#colorantes

[jms-viriato]

Coca Cola

Japón cambia de color para unirse a la moda de las bebidas transparentes

En Japón, Coca-Cola lanzó esta versión de su bebida, que mantiene el mismo sabor pero no incluye colorantes.

[geohistoarte]

Pigmentos en el arte rupestre

[quemirabobo]

Ya estamos preparando la previa de Percy Jackson 🤩

Y de postre, voy a crear panqueques azules para degustar con dulce de leche.

Heleeeeee💚

NO SABIA QUE EXISTÍAN LOS NECESITO YAAAA😍 Te doy una mano con los panqueques así hacemos un montón, nunca son suficientes! Y para tomar gatorade azul (? 🤣

Estoy re manija, no doy más de la emoción 😭

[sallypepperspices]

Sally Pepper en Tiempo al tiempo

Directo en el programa «Tiempo al tiempo» de «Cuatro» en Sally Pepper Este viernes 10 de mayo del 2024, se pasaron a vernos la gente del programa de televisión «Tiempo al tiempo» de canal «Cuatro». Nos han pregúntanos con que se podía cambiar el clásico colorante artificial alimenticio. También de paso hemos hablado sobre el uso de otras especias poco comunes.

[greendepotgt]

Mejor Ceras Gel en Guatemala

¡Bienvenido a Green Depot! Ofrecemos alta calidad y el mejor producto Mejor Ceras Gel en Guatemala a precios asequibles. Se crea utilizando una combinación de aceite mineral y resina de polímero, lo que le da a la cera una velocidad de fusión lenta y un tiempo de combustión prolongado.

[armatofu]

[impossiblefanwombat]

In merito all'assunzione di insetti c'è una storicità medica. Il colorante alimentare rosso E120 è estratto dalla cocciniglia, un insetto parente della coccinella; ci sono Paesi in cui gli insetti sono alimento ordinario da molto tempo, senza controindicazioni.

[veggiechannel]

In queste ultime settimane si sono riaccesi i riflettori sull’uso alimentare degli insetti e sulla farina di grilli, di recente approvazione Ue. C’è, però, un insetto, che già da anni è presente in molti alimenti della grande distribuzione che probabilmente almeno una volta abbiamo acquistato, la cocciniglia. Scopriamo insieme di cosa si tratta e dove si trova.

[elbiotipo]

Van a ir al supermercado y van a ver unas obleas Cofler nuevas.

Van a estar baratas seguramente, capaz hasta en oferta. Van a querer comprarlas.

No las compren. Nunca pero nunca las compren. No voy a entrar en muchos detalles de mí experiencia pero fue como consumir una especie de terrón de azúcar cubierto de azúcar, cada pedacito tiene más azúcar que un kilo de azúcar. Y posteriormente sufrí lo que mejor puedo describir como problemas de digestión medievales. Y sabrán por el color que es culpa de estás obleas que están hechas de azúcar con colorante. Van a sufrir. Van a sufrir. No las compren.

[m00nsbaby]

The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

[dansformations]

"A straight foward Halloween"

Tags: gay to straight, dumbification, fartkink, burpkink.

Marco y Jalil, vivían juntos en su lindo y ordenado departamento, cada Halloween solían impactar en las fiestas con elaborados disfraces, sin embargo habían decidido un disfraz de Halloween menos producido, pero divertido para este año: los dos novios se disfrazarian de hombres heterosexuales.

Era una idea estúpida, pero todos aman una buena sátira.

Jalil se había decidido por unas bermudas y una camisa de fútbol de la selección del país.

Por otro lado Marco estaba usando unos pants flojos y un sport blanco sin mangas que además había tintado de un marrón amarillento en la zona de las axilas para hacerlo parecer un Sport sudado.

Todo habia sido comprado en lugares de segunda mano.

- Nos quedó increíble, 'Bro' - bromeó Marco dándole una nalgada a su novio

Después de aquel golpe, el trasero de Jalil liberó un corto pero sonoro pedo PPTTTTTTTTTRRRFT. El joven se sonrojo de inmediato.

- Jaja alguien se está metiendo demasiado en personaje - bromeó su novio

- Sí... No se que paso, lo siento Bro, ¡digo!, amor - contestó, sintiéndose un poco confundido

- No te preocupes amor... - Marco le dio un beso a su novio, no sabiendo que aquel sería el último...

Pronto arrugó la nariz, un hedor rancio estaba invadiendo sus fosas nasales. Era el gas de Jalil.

No quería demostrarlo e incomodar a su novio, pero aquel gas apestaba demasiado, era bastante sorprendente, jamás había sentido a Jalil apestar así. Para no incomodar a su novio, pero dejar de sentir aquel hedor, Marco caminó hacia el baño.

Estando ahí, aspiró profundamente, pero otro olor igual de rancio invadió sus fosas nasales, comenzó a buscar la fuente para toparse que venía de las manchas de falso sudor de su camiseta.

Pero era imposible... Las había hecho con colorante, agua y esencia de vainilla...

Sin embargo entre más olía, más seguro estaba de que aquel olor venía de esas manchas. ¡No podía ir a la fiesta oliendo así!, Así que se quitó la playera y decidió que también iría con una camiseta de fútbol, como Jalil. Que suerte que habían obtenido 2 camisetas de fútbol en aquel extraño bazar... Un momento... Aún estando sin camiseta el hedor lo acompañaba, olisqueo nuevamente y se dió cuenta de que ahora el hedor venía directamente de sus axilas.

Olió directamente y un olor a atleta después de partido lo invadió.

Algo muy raro estaba pasando.

Mientras, en la sala, Jalil se rascaba constantemente la entrepierna, había algo en aquellas bermudas que le causaba una constante picazón. Y eso solo podía resolverse de una forma: Jalil metió una mano a su ropa interior y rascó fuertemente.

Cuando terminó de hacerlo por alguna razón sintió curiosidad de oler sus dedos... así que lo hizo, un olor a sudor guardado y húmedo invadió sus fosas nasales.

"Tal vez necesito un baño... Tal vez" pensó y rió.

Pronto desde el baño se escuchó un enorme:

- PRRRRRIFFRRRFRRRRPT

Marco estaba teniendo una incontrolable cantidad de gases.

Jalil rió, sintiéndose incluso algo humillado, eso por mucho lo había superado

- ¡Buena Bro! - gritó Jalil, está vez no cambiando el Bro por algo más cariñoso.

Pronto marco abrió la puerta saliendo del baño y el hedor invadió todo el departamento, pero esta vez ninguno de los dos arrugó la nariz. Ambos aspiraron aquel masculino olor que les recordaba tanto al olor del locker room después de entrenar, el olor del sofá cuando los 2 se juntaban a jugar videojuegos, el olor que ellos consideraban olor a hombría; todos nuevos recuerdos implantados por aquel mismo olor de las camisetas y sus propios pedos que estaba alterando todo en ellos:

Marcos y Jalil ya no eran aquella ordenada y culta pareja gay, ahora eran 2 sucios, descuidados y descerebrados mejores amigos, dos bros que vivían juntos ya que eran los únicos capaces de aguantar el hedor y desorden del otro.

Marco hizo una reverencia a modo de broma, aunque realmente sí estaba orgulloso, seguro que aquel pedo había sido audible hasta en la habitación del nerd que tenían de vecino. Se puso su camisa de fútbol, y ambos estaban listos.

Este año los dos amigos habían decidido usar sus uniformes de fútbol como disfraz para Halloween, no era un disfraz muy creativo, pero ellos tampoco lo eran y no era como que a sus amigos hetero de la fiesta a la que iban les importará.

- ¿Listo, bro?

- Como siempre

Marco nalgeo a su mejor amigo, a lo cual este contestó con un ruidoso pedo, pero esta vez no hubo besos ni vergüenza, solo risas como los buenos jugadores de fútbol heterosexuales que eran.

[jms-viriato]

¿Qué significa la "E" en las etiquetas de los alimentos?

La letra “E” corresponde a “Europa” y el código que le acompaña identifica al aditivo: colorantes, conservantes, antioxidantes, edulcorantes.

Los colorantes van desde el E100 hasta el E180.

Los conservantes, que prolongan la duración de los productos, van del E200 al E290

El grupo del E300 al E321 son los antioxidantes.

Los agentes de textura, que ligan los ingredientes, los hacen untuosos o impiden la formación de residuos, del E322 al E483.

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[mezzopieno-news]

INVENTATA LA BATTERIA CHE NON SI DEVE PIÙ RICARICARE

Un gruppo di ricercatori sudcoreani ha sviluppato una batteria semipermanente di nuova generazione che non richiede ricarica, basata su celle betavoltaiche.

Questa nuova tecnologia è un dispositivo che genera energia quando gli elettroni dei raggi beta emessi da radioisotopi (ad esempio carbonio, nichel e idrogeno) colpiscono un semiconduttore. Uno dei maggiori vantaggi delle celle betavoltaiche è che queste possono generare energia da sole senza richiedere fonti di alimentazione esterne né sostituzioni e hanno una durata di vita quasi illimitata. Invece di utilizzare costosi materiali semiconduttori, il team del Daegu Gyeongbuk Institute of Science & Technology ha utilizzato il colorante N719 che appartiene al gruppo del rutenio, il radioisotopo 14, l’acido citrico e il biossido di titanio, materiali molto economici e ad alta efficienza. I raggi beta, che costituiscono la principale fonte di energia delle cellule betavoltaiche, non sono pericolosi per il corpo umano e sono altamente stabili.

Il professor Su-il In del DGIST ha affermato: “Abbiamo sviluppato con successo un nuovo tipo di cella betavoltaica basata su un colorante economico. Condurremo ricerche sulla progettazione e sulla produzione di massa di batterie nucleari per rendere la tecnologia commercializzabile in futuro”. Il gruppo di ricercatori prevede che questa tecnologia verrà utilizzata nel mercato in molti campi come quelli dello spazio, della mobilità, dell’assistenza sanitaria, veicoli elettrici e droni e che potrà diventare una delle tecnologie fondamentali per guidare la crescita futura della Corea, aiutando il paese a raggiungere una leadership mondiale.

___________________

Fonte: Daegu Gyeongbuk Institute of Science & Technology; foto di Pixabay

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[levysoft]

Pensate alle ecografie, o alle radiografie. Per quanto siano ormai entrate da tempo a far parte delle prassi medica, rimangono strumenti eccezionali, perché ci permettono di andare oltre e vedere quello che si cela dove il nostro sguardo si ferma. La capacità delle tecniche di imaging è andata via via crescendo e si è affinata, e c’è chi è al lavoro per spingersi ancora più in là. C’è chi per esempio mira a rendere trasparente la nostra stessa pelle in maniera non distruttiva e reversibile, in vivo, grazie all’uso di un un colorante alimentare. E ci è riuscito (negli animali per ora), come dimostrano le diverse immagini appena diffuse dalle pagine della rivista Science.

Giocare con la luce

Parliamo della ricerca di alcuni ricercatori di Stanford che sono riusciti a rendere trasparenti prima una fettina di petto di pollo, e poi l’addome e lo scalpo di un topo, in maniera reversibile. L’ambito in cui ci muoviamo è quello del “tissue clearing”, ovvero dell’utilizzo di sostanze per rendere trasparenti i tessuti. La strategia con cui i ricercatori sono riusciti a farlo ha a che fare tutto con il modo in cui la luce interagisce con la materia, consentendoci di vedere o di non vedere. La pelle per esempio ci blocca la veduta a tutto quello che si trova sotto. Questo succede perché, spiegano i ricercatori, quando la luce incontra la pelle va incontro al fenomeno noto come scattering (di diffusione) e di assorbimento. Lo spiega meglio a Wired Guosong Hong da Stanford, a capo dello studio: “I tessuti biologici, come la pelle, di solito non sono trasparenti perché la luce viene dispersa quando li attraversa. Questa dispersione avviene perché diverse parti del tessuto, come acqua e grassi, piegano la luce in modo diverso [hanno indici di rifrazione diversi, nda]. L'acqua, in particolare, piega la luce meno dei grassi nella parte visibile dello spettro”.

Vedere sotto la pelle

La loro idea è stata quella di superare questo ostacolo. Come? I ricercatori si sono ingegnati per trovare un modo per ridurre il fenomeno dello scattering con un colorante, o meglio una soluzione acquosa contenente un colorante alimentare, la tartrazina, usata per donare un caratteristico colore giallo-arancio. E lo hanno fatto in maniera, come scrivono essi stessi, all’apparenza controintuitiva. “Riportiamo l'osservazione controintuitiva che molecole fortemente assorbenti possono raggiungere la trasparenza ottica nei tessuti biologici vivi”. In particolare, grazie all’utilizzo della soluzione contenente il colorante sono riusciti a modificare, innalzandolo, l’indice di rifrazione della soluzione acquosa.

L’azione del colorante

“La tartrazina, un comune colorante giallo, assorbe la luce molto fortemente a 428 nm, una lunghezza d’onda che si trova nella parte blu dello spettro visibile,ma assorbe a malapena la luce oltre i 600 nm, nella parte rossa dello spettro - riprende Hong - Secondo un principio fisico chiamato relazioni di Kramers-Kronig, quando un materiale assorbe molta luce in un colore (ad esempio, 428 nm), piegherà di più la luce in altri colori (ad esempio, 600 nm). Quindi, quando la tartrazina viene disciolta in acqua, fa sì che l'acqua pieghi la luce più come fanno i grassi, senza assorbire molta luce nella parte rossa dello spettro. Ciò rende il tessuto più trasparente, specialmente nella regione rossa dello spettro visibile”. E lo fa appunto in maniera controintuitiva, perché il risultato è l’opposto di quello che ci aspetteremmo: più colorante si aggiunge alla soluzione, più materiali opachi come pelle e muscolo, prosegue il ricercatore, diventano trasparenti. “Sebbene solo nella parte rossa dello spettro luminoso”.

Una trasparenza reversibile

I ricercatori hanno testato in diversi setting la loro soluzione colorata, procedendo per gradi. Hanno prima mostrato la capacità del colorante di rendere trasparente un idrogel con silice colloidale, quindi una porzione di petto di pollo e infine sono passati ai test in vivo. Qui sono riusciti, applicando la soluzione, a vedere sotto la pelle dello scalpo, mettendo in risalto i vasi sanguigni, e sotto l’addome, visualizzando i diversi organi e osservando che questo metodo permette anche di osservare la motilità intestinale.

Un risultato che potrebbe apparire sotto certi aspetti inquietante, ma che secondo i ricercatori ha la potenzialità di rivoluzionare l’imaging medico. Tanto più che, assicurano, la soluzione può essere lavata via, rendendo l’interno processo reversibile, in vivo. E questo, sottolinea una perspective sul stesso numero di Science, è uno dei punti di forza del lavoro. Infatti scrivono Christopher J. Rowlands e Jon Gorecki dell’Imperial College London, la novità dello studio non risiede tanto nella capacità di rendere trasparente il tessuto, quanto nell’abilità di farlo in maniera reversibile appunto, ma anche in modo meno distruttivo, a concentrazioni più basse di altre sostanze e senza alterare troppo i tessuti. “Il nostro approccio offre l’opportunità di visualizzare la struttura, l'attività e le funzioni di tessuti e organi profondi senza la necessità di rimozione chirurgica o sostituzione di tessuti sovrastanti con finestre trasparenti”, scrivono i ricercatori su Science.

Le possibili applicazioni

Questo, tradotto, aggiunge Hong, potrebbe aprire alla possibilità di fare prelievi di sangue in maniera più semplice o magari riuscire a vedere anche segni precoci di tumori. “Se la stessa tecnica potesse essere applicata agli esseri umani, potrebbe offrire una serie di vantaggi in biologia, diagnostica e persino cosmetica. Ad esempio, invece di affidarsi a biopsie invasive, i medici potrebbero essere in grado di diagnosticare tumori profondi semplicemente esaminando il tessuto di una persona senza la necessità di una rimozione chirurgica invasiva - spiega - Questa tecnica potrebbe anche migliorare procedure come la rimozione dei tatuaggi laser consentendo di localizzare in maniera più precisa del pigmento sotto la pelle”.

Anche se per ora ci si ferma al condizionale, dal momento che i test non sono stati fatti nell’uomo, sottolineano i ricercatori. Una nota della U.S. National Science Foundation (che ha finanziato lo studio) ricorda a tal proposito come anche i coloranti possano essere pericolosi.

Infine, per quanto il sistema consenta di rendere invisibile la pelle, va ottimizzato. La presenza di molecole nei tessuti molto diverse tra loro infatti rende per ora impossibile eliminare del tutto lo scattering, scrivono gli autori, e per tessuti più spessi potrebbero essere necessari metodi diversi, come l’iniezione, per trasportare il colorante lì dove serve. Sarà in ogni caso interessante vedere dove potrebbe portare tutto questo.

[pizzettauniversale]

Ciao pizz, ho una domanda da farti

Premessa: vivo in una casa in affitto con due coinquiline, di cui una ha 60 anni, è quasi certamente alcolizzata, da una serie di segnali che ho captato, e violenta. Ha atteggiamenti da bulla, sclera e intimidisce gli altri se io e l'altra osiamo contestarla, evito di raccontarti come mi ha messo le mani addosso (e mi hanno convinta a non denunciarla). L'altra è una tipa di 30 anni piena di problemi, egoista e ossessiva e francamente inutile nel risolvere situazioni simili, dato che ha cercato di stringere amicizia con me solo per lamentarsi dei suoi cazzi senza effettivamente risolverli e avere qualcuno che la aiutasse in caso di crisi, ma subito pronta a voltare le spalle.

La vecchia stronza, dopo un periodo di calma, si è risvegliata, ma dato che mi sono rotta ho deciso di andarmene (prima non potevo/volevo per vari motivi, ma adesso basta). Ergo, volevo chiederti consigli su come "divertirmi" prima di andar via definitivamente (i.e. modi alternativi di usare lo spazzolino).

Grazie mille se risponderai 💕

1- spazzolino nel cesso

2- pisci nello shampoo, balsamo e bagnoschiuma

3- crema depilatoria nel balsamo

4- fai scongelare la loro roba dal congelatore poi la rimetti dentro e la ricongeli soprattutto la carne

5- colorante nella vaschetta del detersivo mentre c’è la loro lavatrice

6- pulirsi il culo con l’asciugamano con cui si asciugano la faccia

7- vestiti a stendere giù per strada ups è stato il vento forte

8- ultimo giorno prima che te ne vai, la ciliegina sulla torta: spazzatura sparsa per tutta casa poi chiudi la porta

Successo assicurato

[quemirabobo]

Holaa Yu💚

Paso a mostrarte el pan que hice ayer (sin gluten, obvio) en honor a Sally y Percy Jackson 💙🌊

Estaba al pedo y se me ocurrió ponerle colorante azul porque 1) soy le unique que lo come y 2) why not?

Veredicto final: muy bueno 💯 ni se siente el colorante y a Hele y mi mamá les dió gracia la idea 🤗

También hice masitas de limón y budín de remolacha (porque o hago de todo o no hago nada ajaja).

¿Vos qué tal? ¿Cuál fue la última cosa que cocinaste? Espero que la búsqueda de trabajo esté yendo mejor y no sea tan estresante 🙌💛

Autuuuumn💚

AMÉ😍 Me encanta mal, buenísima la idea y quedó re fachero!! Que rico las masitas de limón lpm y te tengo que juzgar por el budín, whyyyy?? La repostería con verduras no es lo mio, sorry 😔 Qué onda, sabe a remolacha??

Lo último que cociné fue un budín de limón pero se ve que la harina o los dioses me odiaron porque quedó como apelmazado y crudo! Seguí todos los pasos como siempre pero bue, vete a saber. Lo traté de salvar pero no lo logré T-T

Gracias queride💚 Lamentablemente la búsqueda de laburo va como la verga y me acaban de bochar de un final so una desgracia todo jeee