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afterhoursfic · 4 years ago

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Hi! If it's your cup of tea, how about Jaskier's awakening to food kink? like some good ol inappropriate use of honey^^

So this is my first time writing anything like this so I’m sorry if it isn’t great but I hope you enjoy it anyway

He doesn’t know when he started to think of food differently. Maybe it was when the barmaid in Oxenfurt would put a cherry in her mouth and a minute later spit the pip out with the stem in a knot, and later that night he’d learned her tongue could do a fair few other things as well.

It kept happening, she’d catch his eye before popping it into her mouth and when he’d next turn to her, out on her tongue was the stem in a perfect knot every time and only a few minutes later they were pressed up against a wall rutting like animals.

Or maybe it was the farmer's daughter in some no name village who had sat on a stool with her tits practically hanging out as she held his gaze and teased her mouth around the tip of a banana before swallowing it almost whole. She had demonstrated her skills to him an hour later round the back of her house where he possibly received the best blowjob of his life before her mother came storming out. He never looked at the fruit the same way.

It became a habit then, to see the explicit in anything people ate, from the pie one woman bought still warm from the bakery that he couldn’t help but think of sinking his cock into, or the cream one maid spilled over herself and looked far too much like come painting her chest that he desperately wanted to lick off before replacing it with his own.

Even when Saovine comes around and he sees people carving holes into their pumpkins, albeit to make a scary face, but all he can think of was making one just big enough to fit his cock, what the squeeze of it would feel like and the cool of it against his cock, hot and leaking, but he kept his resolve and turned his head the other way when the thoughts came to him.

His answer came to him one spring as he traveled through a quaint little town on market day, and came in the form of one seller practically shoving a jar of honey into his hand, insisting the master dandelion take the gracious gift and if he was willing to play for them.

He couldn’t refuse, especially at the thought of sticky fingers dragging along his chest, the insides of his thighs, and even up to his cock, speaking of he had to adjust himself a little before he performed because it wouldn’t do for the whole town to see how eager he was to get somewhere private.

In the end, he played for just over an hour, and after a bit of bargaining got a razor and some soap from another vendor, he may be horny but he wasn’t exactly stupid.

The process to shave the hair around his cock, balls, and chest was intimate and its own kind of foreplay, a tease waiting on things to come and was enough to get him hard before he’d even reached for the jar.

It was perfect really, a proper jar of honey, one that won’t grow stale or mold on the road, and he can excuse it as being a sweet treat as he traveled, seemingly innocuous to anyone that asked, except for him of course.

First, he dipped the tips of a couple of fingers in, just felt the drag of it as he moved his fingers before bringing it to his mouth where he eagerly shoved them into his mouth, licking every inch of them off, even nipping at his fingers when he was done until he spared a thought to get more, moaning when the taste of it hit his tongue again, it really was good honey.

Next, he moved to one of his nipples, he didn’t use a lot so he could feel his fingers stick and drag against the skin, the tug of it so sensitive it was like lightning under his skin and left him gasping. He brought his other hand up, bare, so he could compare the feel of it, disappointed for a moment at how unsatisfying it felt, even as he pinched his nipple, he couldn’t even get his skin to pebble in excitement, it may have been a loose shirt teasing his nipple for all the effect it had, so could he be blamed for dipping two of those fingers into the honey as well and brought them back up to tease.

It felt good, better than good just knowing he was doing something wrong but getting a thrill out of it anyway. He’s sure if he tried, he could come just like this, teasing sticky fingers over his nipples, even straying them a little to matt in his chest hair, just to feel the pull of it, slowly wandering lower and lower until…

He pulled his hand away with a hiss as his cock jumped as if eager to get a hand on it and fuck if he wasn’t desperate too, but he went to grab more honey, skirting his hand around his cock to go lower to tease and squeeze his balls, smearing the honey into the soft skin and biting back a groan when he pulls it off and feels the slightest sting of pain when he has to slowly pry his hand off, only to do it again and again until it loses its effect, scooping some more honey out of the jar to do it again and again.

At this point his cock was steadily leaking pre across his stomach, begging for attention and Jaskier didn’t think he could wait any longer, so he scooped another healthy helping of honey, only half mournful given how he’d used a good portion of the jar already, maybe he’ll make a detour through the town tomorrow, put on some charm and hope for another generous gift.

That thought was quickly swept aside with any other thought other than ‘good’ and ‘fuck yes’ when he wrapped his hand around his cock. The honey was slightly cold, making his cock twitch at the touch but it only made him moan as he slowly stroked his hand up his cock, dragging out the movement so he could feel the honey cover his cock and feel the pull of it as he steadily moved his hand.

The sound was obscene, almost like he was fucking a wet cunt, but gods this felt so much better, bracing his hand on the wall his head hanged down as he slowly fucked his fist so he could draw out the touch and feel the drag of his cock sticking against his hand.

He lost track of time like that, it was only when the honey was beginning to feel a bit tacky and sticking a bit too much for comfort, but with still a delicious lick of pain, he started to fuck his fist faster. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from smearing a thumb over the head of his cock and watch his precome mix with the honey before sucking it off of the digit, another time.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, hell he’d been teasing himself for gods knew how long, and he was desperate for it. It was just when he was beginning to feel that curl in his gut that meant he was close that he got the idea, haphazardly reaching for the jar and when he did he angled it so when he next fucked his fist, the tip of his cock went into the remaining honey and he’d barely got his head into it when he came with a curse.

Slowly he fucked himself through it, leaving the tip of his cock in the honey as he stroked the base of it, his other hand moving to squeeze his balls and draw his orgasm out longer, especially when he felt his hand truly, almost painfully, get stuck to the skin.

Clean up was going to be a bitch, he needed some warm water and a scrap of cloth, but he could wait a little longer, with his cock sensitive and still aching for release, and groaning as he pulls his cock out of the jar and watches as honey drips off the end of it ever so slowly like the continents greatest tease. What he wouldn’t give to be able to suck his own cock right now.

For now, he was definitely going to make use of how sensitive he felt, especially when he laid back against the bed and felt the head of his cock, still covered in thick honey drag along his thigh, leaving a sticky trail to where it now rested and twitched at his stomach again.

Right now, though he was going to test if he really could get himself off just playing with nipples, hard and sticky with dried honey, and if he teased a finger over the head of his cock, collecting the honey gathered there to tease at his hole well it was nobody’s business but his. Maybe next time he’d ask for a nice jam instead, thick but a little easier to fuck into and his cock was definitely on board with how it twitched in anticipation.

#afterhours cw food kink #afterhours cw exhibitionism #afterhours fic week #any feedback is welcome at this point

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theeverlastingshade · 5 years ago

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Favorite EP of the 2000s: Fall Be Kind- Animal Collective

By the time that Animal Collective released their fourth EP, Fall Be Kind, there was a little over a month left in the 2000s, and in that time no other band even came close to matching their creative output that spanned their 2000 debut, Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They've Vanished up through FBK. Their progression was remarkable; no single two releases sounded anything like each other, and each was unmistakably the sound of their work alone. With their eighth LP, Merriweather Post Pavilion they had come full circle, having transformed from an abrasive, neo-psychedelic freak-folk act into synth-pop festival headliners while molding the sound of independent music into their image. FBK follows directly in the wake of MPP, with the same lineup from that album which included David Portner aka Avey Tare, Noah Lennox aka Panda Bear, and Brian Weitz aka Geologist, with Ben H. Allen returning to produce. What could have been an easy, effortless victory lap that simply aped the advances of their populist breakthrough instead finds the group continuing to flex their chops for studio experimentation while continuing to challenge themselves. During this period Animal Collective simply couldn’t miss. FBK is far from a simple MPP retread, and it caps off one of the most rewarding creative periods from any band ever.

FBK consists of five songs, the first three of which are sublime vocal collaborations between Dave and Noah, while the last two are songs led by each one of them respectively. The most striking thing about the EP on the whole is the masterful back and forth between the band’s vocalists. On MPP, assisted by an ideal amount of reverb, the abrasive qualities of Dave’s voice were smoothed over for a newly invigorated emphasis on melody, and their voices complemented one another in a disarmingly seamless interplay. This continues here, and with the first song “Graze” it’s remarkable just how well their voices continue to play off of one another. “What Would I Want? Sky” and “Bleed” continue this streak, with the former achieving one of their greatest feats of melodicism to date by making their voices almost function as one while the latter has Dave actually taking the weightless, droning croon typically reserved for Noah to spellbinding results. “On a Highway” and “I Think I Can”, while featuring the vocals of just Dave and Noah respectively and therefore compromising their glorious interplay, both revel in intense introspection, ranking as two of the most heartfelt songs that the band have released to date.

While FBK on the whole follows in the vein of the sample-based template that the band had been executing on Strawberry Jam and MPP, the songs here still exist within their own orbit and hardly scan as diminishing returns. Opener “Graze” begins with a swirling vat of synths, a verse from Dave about their songwriting process and one from Noah about his concerns with heightened expectations placed on them before a pan flute sample cribbed from “Ardeleana (Zamfir avec Amfir)” by Gheorghe Zamfir and Simion Stanciu transitions the song into its spring-loaded, bass heavy second half. The transition is jarring and unexpected, but it works nonetheless. Split between the two sharp vocal collaborations and the standalone vocal songs comes the haunting, ambient breather “Bleed”. More of an extended interlude than a standalone song, “Bleed” exudes an ethereal beauty that the band captured on the lengthy, droning songs that exist on their more challenging releases in a far more succinct form while packing a surprising amount of melody. As previously mentioned, Dave takes the role traditional reserved for Noah’s angelic croon as he chants “That I must bleeeeeeeed” throughout the outro, and his delivery is nothing short of chill-inducing.

After setting the tone with “Graze” the band then transition into “What Would I Want? Sky”, the first song to have gotten a licensed Grateful Dead sample, here in the form of a repurposed vocal line from “Unbroken Chain”. The first two and a half minutes of the nearly seven-minute song feature wordless crooning from Noah and the word “melody” sung repeatedly by Dave over what begins as a blistering kick drum beat that slowly incorporates their characteristically dense wall of sound propelled by what I presume are field recordings courtesy of Brian. A synth melody emerges, the wall of noise begins to dissipate, and we’re brought to the song’s lovely second half that features the “Unbroken Chain” sample grounded by a simple kick/snare rhythm and one of the most cathartic vocal collaborations between Noah and Dave to date. Their voices seem to swell with pure joy. On the flip side, Dave’s “On a Highway” is the darkest song of the bunch. The minor organ chords and ominous rumbles of bass perfectly frame Dave’s feelings of anxiety in the wake of having to support their most successful record to date. All of the songs on FBK are sonic marvels, but the highlight here is without a doubt Noah’s “I Think I Can”. Most of the seven-minute march consists of a stomping kick drum, clanging synths, sleigh bells, and his signature choirboy tenor before transitioning into an extended outro filled with brass synths and marimba that finds him surmounting his insecurities and pressing forward, self-doubt be damned.

The lyrics throughout FBK build on the concerns of prior records of theirs such as growing up, dealing with change, and general existential malaise, now coupled with the burdens of having to navigate the unlikely success they garnered in the wake of MPP. “On a Highway” addresses the exhaustion of unrelenting touring directly “On a highway/I let the bad things taunt me/Why do they want to haunt me?/I don’t know how they find me” and sneaks in a few surprisingly personal lines that give a glimpse of the band’s dynamic “On a highway/Sick of too much reading/Jealous of Noah’s dreaming/Can’t help my brain from thinking”. “Graze” also finds them extrapolating on the rigors of touring “Why can’t I reach you?/When I most need you?/You’re at the beach and/I’m in some strange bed” in addition to pondering the irony of how being in a band that becomes sustainable perpetuates displacement “And to have a band/That cracks the point of fame/Why does a band make me/Less settled in?”. Amidst all of their looming anxiety, resolution finally sneaks in towards the end of “I Think I Can”. The song begins with Noah contemplating the allures of complacency “What’s in the way?/And, and, and/What’s nice about staying on the same pace?” but towards the end he becomes firm in his conviction not to become stunted by things that are outside of his control and seize the opportunities that are “Can ruin the day from good ways/Will I get to move on soon?/I think I can, I think I can, I think I can”.

FBK was the last proper record that Animal Collective released until 2012’s underrated Centipede Hz, which while still good wasn’t quite on the level of their past releases. This decade found the collective primarily splintering to focus on their respective solo careers and side projects, only having gotten together since for 2016’s severely underwhelming Painting With and the meandering 2018 documentary soundtrack, Tangerine Reef. FBK marked the last time that the band were truly at the top of their game and miles ahead of their contemporaries. It’s remarkable to hear how, despite being almost a decade into their career at that point, the music still sounds so effortless, and was simply flowing with ideas. As we reach the end of the 10s it’s striking that despite there being so much exceptional music that’s come out since FBK, there hasn’t been a single band, or even a single artist for that matter, that’s accomplished so much within such a short span of time. Dave and Noah dropped solo records this year in the form of Cows on Hourglass Pond and Buoys respectively, and even though they mark low points for their solo work it’s still inspiring to hear the two of them push themselves creatively and refuse to simply go through the motions like so many other artists. Although the lyrics address their fears directly, the music on FBK suggests that Animal Collective were completely unhindered by their success, and still striving to create something honest, unfazed by trends or expectations. A decade later, and nothing on that front has changed. May we all strive to live so boldly.

Essentials: “I Think I Can”, “What Would I Want? Sky”, “Bleed”

#Animal Collective #fall be kind #ben h allen #domino records

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vierafication · 5 years ago

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D-1, F-3 your choice of character :)

Horribly belated response to this ask since I wanted to wait until I had a proper feel for Faolan first, sorry DX but here it is! Better late than never.

D-1. How would they decorate a house if they had one under their own name?

Faolan has an apartment leftoever from Mikky (who I fantasia’d) and idk if I’ll actually use it for him, since Mikky’s barber shop was a fun, now nostalgic thing to host. But if Faolan himself WERE to decorate a house/apartment, it would be jammed full of knickknacks, odds & ends, trinkets, and the like. Piles upon piles of old tomes, from diaries to history books to grimoires of forbidden magicks to even books cursed so as to never be opened. Some neatly shelved, others stacked in corners, yet others littering the floor- all seemingly at random. Though a houseguest would notice, if they traced a path from the doorway to Faolan’s personal quarters, that his collection becomes more and more cluttered and less organized. His bedroom could be on an episode of hoarders, if hoarders dealt with the strange and the mystical. His bed exists in a pile of *things*, not unlike a dragon’ s hoard. He’s got half-working mammets, statues in abnormally twisted poses, old coins, pieces of ancient machinery of which the function is still unknown, weapons and pieces of armor- some standing up in full suits, others just scattered individual pieces, an entire row of dolls whose eyes seem to follow you. They reappear and disappear throughout different rooms in the house, but they’re never seen moving. Just, sometimes, out of the corner of one’s eye, might one see a quick flash of *something*.

There’s an entire wardrobe filled with nothing but teapots (without teacups), a wall of clocks all telling different times, and so, so many bones. Skulls of all manner of things, some distinctly humanoid and others completely alien. Some small or average sized, others massive end hung upon the wall like a fisherman would place his prized catch on display, only instead of a swordfish, it’s an abnormally elongated, perfectly cleaned femur. They are ALL clean, mind you- these are old bones, not new. No chunks of meat left on them, thankfully, and nothing resembling a stuffed hunting trophy to be found anywhere within. Just bone. Skulls make for good candle holders, and candles seem to make up most of Faolan’s interior lighting. The flames cast flickering shadows and seem to dance about, yet never manage to burn any of the very flammable substances around them, even though they’re left untended often, the wax dripping off and onto everything around them. They’re scented, differently, culminating in a sickly sweet floral scent that barely covers the overwhelming odor of things old, lost, and forgotten. Furniture is clearly recycled, usually from more refined homes, and arranged at random. Their main purpose is to serve as support for the collection, apparently, being draped with quilts and fabrics from far-off lands or being used as table tops to place jars of teeth or urns of ashes upon. The only reverence in terms of furniture placement is given to the fireplace, which stands clean and ready, and mirrors- some of which have been smashed, quite recently it would seem, if examined closely.

And on top of everything, all of this doom and gloom of the old and the dead, are the *flowers*. They’re everywhere, in planters, in vases, growing out of the floorboards or even the walls somehow. Garlands of flowers drape over archways, crowns are placed upon statues and helmets. Radiant and beautiful, some clearly unnaturally so. Other plants, too- leafy ones and long ones and even mushrooms. They litter everything and make up for the dour atmosphere museum that would be Faolan’s home, covering it like an enchanted glamour of its own. The curtains are often drawn, though, so little sunlight manages to reach these blooms, with the exception of the fountain room, which simply has holes in the roof. Yes, there’s one room in the home he’d completely dedicate to fountains, running water making a soft white noise in the background, and the more quiet pooling water a wonderful place for all manner of aquatic plant life to spring up. They smell of lakes, rivers, nature- not some man-made house fountain. The fountain room is the only room locked, because in some of the fountain’s pools, there doesn’t seem to be a bottom.

And for a place that would reasonably be full of mold and bugs and rats and other nasties, it’s remarkably not, through some magic or another. It’s dusty, yes, and occasionally odd paw prints can be found disturbing the dust on the old wood floors, but whatever beings make them have yet to show themselves.

F-3. Who would they have the most fun with?

I don’t know! Faolan’s rp has been limited at best, so far, since he’s new and I’m focusing on getting through ShB right now. No contacts really to speak of, yet! But honestly, he’d have fun with everyone and anyone. People are intriguing! Interesting! Mesmerizing! Dumb and gullible folks are the most fun to play around with and trick, but they can get boring. Intellectuals make for entertaining opponents in a game of minds, but that gets old. People that live for fun are obviously the most fun to have fun *with*, but parties and games can only be so fun until they become repetitive. Faolan’s favorite type of person, though, is someone with a drive. A passion. Be it something as dark as avenging a lost loved one or as innocent as an insatiable curiosity, people with these motivations are by far the best! Because they come with adventures, which means two things: a factor of unpredictability and excitement, and the fact that Faolan doesn’t have to bring anything to the table himself. He can just sit back and watch the show!

#ask meme #about faolan #thanks for the ask anon! sorry i took ten years to respond to it orz

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dezembergirl · 6 years ago

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Hangover

the last part of the Paradise Series (prior part)

I really want to continue writing, especially now that I have more free time, so if you have a prompt, idea or wish for something you’d like me to write drop by in my Asks and I’ll make sure to write more stories!

Also, this is not limited to the Norwegian Skam, I’d love to write something for Charles/Manon, Incantava or any of the other!

as always dedicated to @nonibanoni‘s idea <3

Fandom: Skam

Pairing: Noorhelm

Summary: the morning after William’s night out ended on Noora’s dorstep; featured Noora, Pancakes and a hell of a hangover

originaly posted to AO3

Sunday came with clear skies and a headache the size of five rounds of shots paid for by Chris. He rolled onto his stomach and padded the nightstand for his phone. In the darkened room the brightness of the display felt like a stab to his skull and he squeezed his eyes shut again.

The pounding in his head kept at a steady pace and pulling one of the pillows over his ears only intensified the sensation. His mouth tasted like a badly mixed cocktail of vodka, gin and the lingering stench of cigarets. In conclusion, he felt like a piece of shit and the thought of doing school work, which he had delayed until the last weekend, made him want to curl up in bed and stay there for at least another 12 hours.

He let his heart rate calm down before he attempted sitting up and risking another glimpse at his phone to look at the time - ten past eleven. He ran his hands through his hair, getting rid of the worst of the tangles and deciding that he was in dire need of a mirror and a toothbrush. And he must have really been out of it because it was only when he pressed his head against the pillow in one last attempt of blocking out his hangover that he finally noticed the familiar note of lavender. Dumbstruck, he inspected the other side of his bed and although it was subtle, there was a slight indentation in the mattress. It made sense now, she must have closed the blinds and been the one to plug in his now fully charged phone either last night or after she woke up.

On that thought, he jumped out of bed - if you could call stumbling onto one’s feet jumping - and the sudden flight of panic carried him down the corridor and toward the main living room. His mind was already flashing back to the first time she had slept over at his apartment and fled without so much as a note the next morning. The fact that he was not entirely sure how she had ended up in his bed in the first place did nothing to calm the rising sensation of dread in his stomach. He might have done or said something incredibly stupid.

Thankfully, that particular train of thought did not continue because when he stepped into the kitchen there she was, bent over the opposite counter scooping flour into a measuring cup. She had twisted her wet hair into a bun and he recognized the t-shirt that clung to her hips as one of his. He slumped against the door frame and traced her movements while she mixed the flour and milk. Now that the pounding in his head had receded he was left with a sensation of numbness that gave this whole experience a surrealistic touch. Noora was actually here, preparing pancakes in his kitchen and humming a tune he could not place at that moment. He would have most likely remained like that for longer, had Noora not turned around with the mixing bowl in her hands, ready to start pouring the batter into the pan.

Her eyes widening slightly and she stopped mid-motion, almost as if she had forgotten she was not alone. And for a moment, William felt the panic reignite before her open mouth curved upwards and she crooked her head to side.

"Good morning,“ Noora tugged at her bottom lip and he felt his head spin.

"You’re still here.“

"Yes,“ she said matter of factly and moved to set the bowl down next to the stove top.

Deciding not to push his luck with whatever stupid thing he would come up with next he pushed off of the door frame and joined her at the counter. Noora turned to face him and obliged a little peck before pressing a firm palm to his chest.

"You definitely need a toothbrush,“ she tapped the glass and packet of Aspirin next to her on the counter. "And this.“

He dissolved the Aspirin in as little water as he could manage and drowned the whole thing in one go. His face must have shown his disgust before he could fill the glass with more water to wash away the vile taste because Noora giggled and gave his cheek a pinch. He chuckled and despite her protests pulled her into an embrace to kiss both her temples. "Thank you for this.“

"Well, you still had flour and one carton of unexpired milk. So yeah, I had to take advantage of that, especially since Eskild hasn’t gotten groceries since Wednesday and the shops are closed until tomorrow. So not that selfless, really.“

"Still, this is really nice.“

"But,“ she angled her head away from him. „You'll only get some if you go take care of this,“ her fingers pushed along his jawline and into his hair „situation first.“

He leaned his forehead against her collarbone with a muffled groan. Defying his expectations she did not smell like her usual lavender body mist but the much darker sent of his own body wash. He liked that smell on her, he decided. But when he nuzzled his nose deeper Noora squealed and pushed him away before he could attempt to put another kiss on her exposed neck. "I said toothbrush.“

The tiles in the bathroom were coated with water drops and the humid air clung to every surface and his skin. Noora could not have been up for long as the mirror was misted over and he grabbed a towel to get a better look at his reflection. He supposed it could be worse, his skin creased around his eyes but the dark circles should be reversible with some moisturizer and hydration. In his haste to get to bed yesterday he had not bothered to brush through his hair before showering and now the longer strands had tangled into a sizable knot in the front. He grabbed his toothbrush from next to where the one, he had given Noora to use a week ago, lay and went to work.

Now that his mouth tasted more like peppermint than cigarets and his hair had conformed to an acceptable shape he threw on a fresh hoodie and checked his phone. There were no unread messages and only two new emails with his Uber receipts. He pushed it into his hoodie’s front pocket and joined Noora in the kitchen. She had turned up the radio to the morning program and flipped the last pancake over in the pan.

"Feeling better?“ she added the thin piece to the stack of already cooked pancakes and flicked off the stove.

"After a kiss, I will,“ she raised her eyebrows but allowed him to press her up against the counter. His hands found her waist through the t-shirt and he moved to kiss her.

"Did you brush?“ she tilted her head to the side.

"Of course,“ William took a deep breath in and breathed the resulting air into her face.

"Oh my god,“ her mouth dropped open and then quickly closed as she pushed away from him with a flash of laughter. "You’re disgusting.“

He took the plate of pancakes and the only jar of jam in his cupboard - strawberry - and joined her at the table. She had already set out the plates and a glass of orange juice for each of them.

They ate in relative silence except for her protests when he would reach to squeeze her thigh and she would swat him away with a playful smile. William was by no standard a slow eater but he had barely finished his first pancake when Noora was already spreading the jam and folding up her third one. She had strawberry marks in both corners of her mouth that strangely enough reminded him of her red lipsticks.

"Are you in a rush?“

"Huh,“ she looked up and darted her tongue out to clean the jam off her lips. "I just have to write the article that’s due tomorrow. And I didn’t even finish the introduction yesterday. So yeah, kinda.“

His expression dropped and he swallowed the piece of pancake to cover of his disappointment. "You didn’t have to stay you know.“

"Well, you were so disappointed last time,“ he bit his lip.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you into staying or anything,“ he said.

"It’s not like that,“ she dropped her fork and gave him a smile. “I just didn’t think it would have been smart to leave you alone last night.“

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. I can remember most of it.“

Now her smile had turned into a full-blown smirk. “So you do remember drooling onto your pillow?“

“I did not do that,“ he felt the heat turning the tips of his ears red and rearranged his hair accordingly. Most of last night had come back to him, but there were blurry spots left. He just had not expected to hear something like this.

“I mean, it was kind of cute,“ she was tugging at her lip again and twisting the sleeve around her wrist. “But I’m guessing, this not how you usually get girls into bed?“

He groaned and rubbed at his temples. „What else did I do?“

The crumbs and bits of jam left on his plate suddenly became very interesting. He knew Noora was enjoying this and he supposed he deserved that. He remembered driving home with her and getting into bed but god knows what else happened before and in between that.

“Well, for starters you drunk texted me,“ he scoffed and Noora only laughed and ticked each event off on her fingers. “Then I found you half passed out on my porch at like 2 am and you called an Uber. You showered and we went to bed.“

“That’s all? We didn’t like, you know …,“ he trailed off not sure how to properly mold his concern into a question. He would not be able to forgive himself if he had fucked it all up after weeks of being so careful. She did not want to take whatever this was between them any further than making out in his bed and though he admittedly desired more of course, he would always respect her wishes. He loved cuddling with her, kissing her senseless and making her laugh. It gave him an odd sense of satisfaction.

“Oh umm, not really. You were out in seconds and yeah you drooled but I already told you that.“ Noora had pushed the sleeve of his shirt all the way up around her elbow and her complexion had turned from pale to light pink.

His chest deflated with relief and he pushed the last piece of folded pancake into his mouth. Noora took the plates and put them in the dishwasher together with the mixing bowl and measuring cups. Despite the Aspirin he still lagged behind in speed as he helped her clean up the kitchen and start the dishwasher. After making sure the surfaces were spotless Noora got her bag from the sofa and made to lace up her shoes.

“You’re leaving?“

“The essay thing, remember. I sadly wasn’t joking about that,“ she fiddled with her hair ties and pulled the knot on her head apart to let her still damp waves fall down past her chin.

“I mean I did offer to help you with it yesterday. I wasn’t joking about that either.“

“I’m serious William I need to finish this today.“

“I am too. You can write it here, I have some work to do as well. So as long as you don’t distract me I won’t keep you from your work either.“

“I didn’t even bring my laptop or anything,“ her backpack already swung over one shoulder, Noora stared at him with that familiar look in eyes that could pass for annoyance. She was seriously debating his offer.

“You can use mine, for now, I won’t need it until later. And then mail it yourself when you’re done.“

Noora stayed quiet and pushed her bottom lip in and out of her mouth.

“What’s your assignment?“

“Heart rhythms.“

“Okay, so my brother went through a couple of months was he was dead set on studying medicine. Because you know it’s very prestigious to be a doctor and whatnot. Anyways, he bought a couple of books he never opened and they're still around here somewhere.“

Noora considered him with narrowed eyes for a moment, probably deciding that this was way too elaborate to be a lie and finally lowered her backpack back down.

“Okay,“ she drew the word out and William wasn’t sure if she was annoyed with him, herself or the situation in general.

“Great,“ he reached for his laptop on the coffee table and put it down next to her.

True to his own word, his brother kept a small collection of medical books in one of the half-empty storage cupboards. He surveyed the titles and picked out a 2014 edition human physiology textbook.

Noora had settled down on one end of the couch, encircled in an impressive amount of paper and markers she must have produced from her bag in the two minutes he had been gone. She was bent over a black and white copy of different EKGs and a heart diagram.

“So, you are staying then?“ William dropped onto the couch next to her.

“I guess so. But you’ll have to make me hot cocoa later,“ she looked up from her notes and he was relieved to find any traces of her prior annoyance wiped from her features.

“Of course.“

He cupped her jaw and pushed his fingers into her loose hair before dipping down for a kiss. It made his chest swell with heat and his skin prickled with the excitement of having her all to himself for the rest of the day. Noora hummed against his lips and laced her hands around his neck to pull her body closer to his. In the end, she was only inches away from fully straddling his lap and the kiss had turned from innocent to something completely different in a matter of seconds.

One of his hands rested on her hips and the other had pushed his shirt halfway up her stomach before he pulled away with a painful groan. His own body protested when he gently disentangled himself from her and she came to rest on the couch next to him with an exasperated sigh.

„Why did you stop?“ Noora combed through the mess he had made of her hair and wiped over her pink and slightly swollen lips.

„Because,“ he reached over for his laptop and typed in his password before handing it back to her. „We agreed on no distractions, and you,“ he gave her one last peck „are extremely distracting.“

„Ass,“ she made a show of swatting away his hand, but ultimately did not protest when he pulled her legs across his lap and started to trace patterns against her bare skin.

He had never thought it possible that a Sunday filled with school work into the late evening hours could be this enjoyable.

#skam #noorhelm #skam fanfic #william x noora #noora x william #noora sætre #william magnusson #noorhelm fic #skam fic #the last one I can't believe I actually finished this series

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cococrazies · 7 years ago

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Lovestruck Series Review: Starship Promise (Season 1)

Personal playing order: Orion - Jaxon - Antares - Nova - Atlas

Warning! Minor spoilers ahead for Antares’s/Nova’s/Atlas’s routes, as well as CGs under the cut.

Orion: I’m torn on this one. I really enjoyed the story -- a lot more than I thought I would, given my lack of enthusiasm for the series concept -- and Orion himself. (If anyone ever wanted Shang from Mulan but in outer space, this is it.) The writing also had a very natural cadence and flow; it pulled me in easily, never getting too heavy-handed with sudden plot twists and cliffhangers... except for one instance, but more on that below.

And the MC! She was a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t been too impressed by her in the first-ep sneak peeks we get in each route, but she’s really cute -- she can be a bit of a space cadet at times (sorry, bad pun intended), but she isn’t dumb. Furthermore, she really develops over the course of the route, which is impressive given everything else stuffed into these mere 12 episodes.

So now to the things I didn’t like about this route: for one, the romantic development. It seemed really sudden and almost shoehorned-in as a result of the route length, which was jarring given how well-paced everything else had been up to that point.

Also, the Antares plot twist; it felt cliché and gimmicky, especially since I could see it coming from a mile away. I think I would’ve preferred for it to be a Season 2 reveal, or at least presented to us right from the start -- as it was, it just seemed like it was there for the “shock factor” + to forcibly give us a reason to care about the antagonist if we didn’t already. But since this was a pilot season, I guess I can understand how they wanted to tease at an intriguing backstory as early as possible to get players invested.

Overall, they still did succeed with the latter, because now I’m pretty curious about where they’re going with this. And also because I need more Orion/MC in my life; rushed or not, those two are simply way too cute.

Jaxon: Whoa, this story was jam-packed with action scenes and chemistry between the OTP. The pace is hella fast, but you never get the sense that we’re skipping past important details; the writing makes the most of every episode it has got. Not a single scene is wasted or filler-like.

Jaxon himself is a bit of a harder sell. His gargantuan ego, jokester personality, and YOLO take on everything make him one of those characters that you either love or hate -- although for me, he fell somewhere near the middle of the spectrum. I like his concept and find him a refreshing addition to Lovestruck’s character lineup, but he’s not really my type as far as romance goes; and sometimes he toes the line for being near annoying.

(The fact that I constantly seemed to make the wrong choices -- at least judging by the sheer amount of weird looks or lukewarm responses he gave me after 90% of my choices -- didn’t help. Heads-up: don’t try to play it cool. This MC really, really can’t do cool. I had several near-death experiences from sheer secondhand embarrassment while playing this route.)

That aside, he makes a surprisingly good team with MC. Except from some cringey non-heart options (which were brutal this route, by the way), they naturally eased into working as a combo. I like how they both are able to pull each other out of their respective emotional ruts, as well as complement the other’s shortcomings. Jaxon’s character turnaround near the end felt a little sudden, but I like the teased insight on his past, and am looking forward to learn more about it.

Antares: Oh, MC. Trust me, I of all people totally understand crushing on the hot, mysterious, and possibly noble anti-hero holding you captive for unknown reasons, but even so. Being constantly unable to focus on anything but your attration to him -- and using it as a basis for your foundation to trust him almost straight away despite how he works for the Big Bad, and is literally using you as a tool(-fixer) for whatever evil purposes the Empire has in mind for the galaxy -- is like a whole new level of uncool.

(Also, how is a sheltered colony girl’s reaction to seeing a military leader telling his troops not to leave a single ship standing “swoon, he’s so charismatic” instead of “holy shit, he kills people”? Priorities, MC.)

Beyond that, Antares’s route was very intriguing to me. Out of Lovestruck’s villain routes so far this is the one that has done the least to paint the love interest as less of an antagonist, or the side he sympathizes with as more morally grey. I also appreciated seeing another side of Antares himself that actually knows the definition of the word chill isn’t perpetually dressed in bunny-ear mecha armor that’s not completely absorbed by his thirst for vengeance against his brother.

Similar to Orion’s route, the romantic development also dropped on us out of the blue here... but strangely, I didn’t mind. In a way, it seemed to make sense for Antares’s emotionally dysfunctional personality (to the point that it gave me Chance S1 in GiL flashbacks). I think I almost preferred this to him doing a sudden 180 and going all mushy on MC when any potential romantic build-up outside of premium choices has been minimal. I’m holding my thumbs now for a gradual turnaround -- much like Chance got -- in his future seasons.

Nova: I keep going back and forth re: how I feel about this route. To again start with the positive -- I’d been worried that Nova would be a Space Medusa 2.0, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn’t. For all the kuu in her kuudere demeanor, Nova still spends a fair amount of the route bonding with MC through actual conversation, and unlike Orion’s/Antares’s routes this season the romance didn’t even seem that rushed. Furthermore, I was intrigued by Nova’s backstory (not to mention that she’s hot as hell).

But to be entirely honest, this story is also the most formulaic, “typical otome”-esque route I’ve read so far in Lovestruck -- not so much in concept as in execution. It reminds me of one of those Voltage JP fantasy routes where we spend the first 1/3 of the route with semi-slice-of-life scenes interspersed with action, the middle 1/3 of this route discovering the LI’s angsty past and them distancing themselves to protect MC, and the final 1/3 with MC dissolving into hysterics/apocalyptic depression, stupidly running after LI alone, and declaring their undying love for them after having known them for a couple of days in the middle of a life-or-death situation.

Since I do play Voltage JP games I’m not saying it’s necessarily a terrible thing, just... jarring. I might seem like I’m awfully hard on Lovestruck’s writing a lot of the time, but that’s because I have high expectations of it. In a sea of near-identical mobile otome clones Lovestruck stands out with a more Westernized and creative take on standard otome tropes, hence often avoiding common pitfalls associated with the genre. The writing in general is a cut above what I expect from mobile games as well, hence all my criticisms; I don’t balk (as much) at LIs doing sudden 180s or MCs being stupid in a Solmare game, but I do with Lovestruck because I know -- and have seen firsthand -- that they can do better.

So this route was confusing to me. Because, if I were to go for my usual standard from what I would expect run-of-the-mill Voltage JP route, for example, or a Shall We Date? one -- then I’d think it’s fine. Or even good. But for Lovestruck? I don’t know. I wouldn’t say it’s bad, just not... good. (The GiL-esque Pokémon-battle narration for action scenes -- yes, this is my official pet peeve now -- didn’t help.)

With all that said though, I didn’t dislike Nova’s route. (Hence the confusion.) And definitely not Nova herself. I just don’t really know how I feel about its writing direction, and how it measures against my expectations of a Lovestruck route.

Atlas: I fell head over heels for this route. Seriously, this was Astraeus-in-season-3-of-AFK level instant love, except without the devastating angst and with a decent helping of fluffy feels on top. Not that it was all fluff -- we had our share of prospective angst here too, if less literally earth-shattering. And hell of a lot of action, character development, and tons of other goodies tightly stuffed in a 12-episode-package of awesome.

Similar to my review for Astraeus, I don’t even know where to begin talking about this route’s good points. The prose, for one -- there were just so many beautifully worded narrative transitions, and the dialogue didn’t lose out in that aspect, either. The sass, sarcasm, and the humor were well-timed, but didn’t go overboard/seem out of character for MC or the rest of the cast.

Then there’s Atlas himself. Breaking down tsunderes is one of my favorite otome pastimes, and doing exactly that to our resident grouchy pilot was no different. First of all, I love that he maintains a healthy balance between insults that are obviously all bark and no bite, and genuinely worded criticism that should logically be voiced. In fact, there’s so little unnecessary tsun here that he could almost pass for a kuudere.

Regardless of whatever mold he’d better fit into, finally crumbling down that cranky demeanor of his and seeing him dere was a sweet, sweet reward. (I actually caved and went premium twice despite my agonizing wallet because I couldn’t resist seeing more of it.)

Or heck, even the platonic moments building up to that were great. Because the romance with Atlas was really well-paced; I love how we went from almost-hate (my favorite trope!) to begrudging respect, then to friendly equals/teammates, and finally something more -- all the while there was obvious chemistry between him and MC interlacing every interaction. I was kind of worried whether we’d get some last-minute romantic confession slapped on near the end, but thankfully we got a development that, for all its unrealistic corniness, still had me squealing. Especially with that cliffhanger; dammit, how am I even supposed to emotionally last until I get to his second season?

The main plot was really interesting, too -- probably my favorite premise out of the ones we’ve been offered so far. Even though it starts out similarly with MC on the run, I like how 1) we see the Union as evil right from the bat, avoiding having another MC-gets-out-of-her-naïve-colony-girl-mindset mini-arc; 2) rather than being perpetrated for some valuable information/artifact that the Starship crew might benefit from, MC is in a situation where they actually have no reason to keep her around, adding more tension to the intro; and 3) how all of this tied into Atlas’s own personal character arc. (Not that I minded how the other premises played out, it just made for a fresh change of pace.)

To wrap this gigantic word-vomit ramble up, I’d just like to conclude by gushing one last time how fantastic this route is -- I’d warmly recommend it to anyone interested in giving Starship a chance, because after this, the series personally had me hook, line, and sinker.

Final character ranking: Atlas > Orion > Jaxon > Antares > Nova

....This got a little longer than I intended it to be, oops. Kudos to anyone who has made it to the end of this season review. (I’ll try to be a little more concise in my next one, i.e. GiL S7.) You can follow my tag #coco reviews lovestruck for more reviews of Lovestruck games, or check out the ones I’ve done so far on this list.

#coco reviews lovestruck #lovestruck #voltage usa #amemix #starship promise #orion akatsuki #jaxon silva #antares fairchild #nova #atlas molniya #oelvn #mobile otome #otome review

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heartslogos · 7 years ago

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newfragile yellows [167]

“There’s a raven perched on top of the main stair bannister,” Krem says when he finally manages to find Lavellan through Skyhold’s many twisting corridors. Finding her to report this not so strange anomaly was not his goal. That’s more of a thing to do on the side. Mostly Krem is just looking for where his room his.

There are parts about Skyhold - living castle, living castle grounds, apparently living mountain - Krem deeply enjoys. The changing scenery that promises something new and exciting about working in one place for extended periods of time without the drudgery and boredom associated with long jobs like these, the suspicious but not unwelcome supply of fresh fruit and vegetables, an always changing catalogue of things to read, and watching Dorian Pavus grow increasingly frustrated with the apparent disregard being shown towards science and understandable phenomena occurring.

The latter is especially fruitful.

However Krem does not joy getting perpetually lost for hours out of his day because Skyhold is - at best, playful with how people get places, at worst downright sadistic and cruel about what it shows along the way to getting someone to their goal.

“Did the roof open up again?” Lavellan asks, because Krem’s walked into foyer of Syhold next to aforementioned stairs several times and seen strange trees growing where no trees were growing before, stretching up into the sky where there was no sky before. “If we wanted more outdoors we’d go outdoors, I keep saying.”

“Keep saying it, because Skyhold isn’t listening,” Krem says. “No, the roof was fine, I didn’t see any vegetation or anything different. There was just a raven sitting there.”

“And?”

“And nothing, I just thought you should know,” Krem says, “Because these things usually are some sort of sign that you need to know about.”

Lavellan nods, “Let’s go see the raven, then.”

“I was actually hoping to go to my room,” Krem says.

Lavellan tilts her head, “Hoping?”

“Skyhold’s had me going around in not-circles for about twenty minutes,” Krem says. “I don’t think Skyhold was having me look for you, otherwise I’d have found you right away.”

“Fair enough, find anything interesting?” Lavellan asks as she starts walking towards where Krem came from. Krem turns around to follow her and is completely unsurprised to find that as soon as they turn the corner they’re standing in front of the main stairs.

The raven stares at them and then proclaims, “The dead will claim what is theirs; the serpent swallows its own tail; the serpent is a dragon.”

Krem watches Lavellan’s face.

She looks annoyed, “That’s poetic.”

She looks at him, “That’s poetic, right?”

“Pretty sounding, yeah,” Krem says, “What’s it mean? Should I warn the Chief?”

“It’s a raven of ill omens,” Lavellan says, “I somehow find it surprising it hasn’t shown up sooner.”

“A what?”

Krem turns to look at there’s a second raven. “Is this an attempted murder?”

Lavellan laughs and nudges his arm with hers, “Cute.”

Krem grins at her as the second raven looks straight at the first one and croaks out, “the messenger is always sacrificed; the blood of ravens runs smooth and clean; the stones will have their toast; raise a glass to survival.”

“Oh, this is going to get crowded,” Lavellan murmurs just as a third raven alight onto the bannister next to the second one and says, “one should not blame the mouth of the message; the root of the poison lies beyond the tongue; seek the source.”

“Are they just declaring ill intent at each other?” Krem asks and Lavellan rolls her eyes and gestures for him to follow her.

“Well, I didn’t like the first one, so I’m assuming that’s what called the second, and I guess the first one didn’t much like what the second one was saying so that brings along the third, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to ask Skyhold for a cat.”

“You found the larder,” Solas says as Lavellan glares at the large stone cellar walls. There are entire aisles full of food.

Jars without a single speck of dust full of jams and jellies and preserves of all sorts. Barrels upon barrels. Somehow there’s entire bushels of apples and pears and pomegranates and baskets of eggs and huge rounds of cheese and cloth-wrapped loaves of bread. There are herbs and vegetables hanging from the ceiling and cuts of meat and -

The sheer amount of food and ingredients is staggering.

“I can’t believe,” Lavellan says through her teeth as she pushes down on her irritation and the throbbing pain in her hand and her temples, “You actually had me buy groceries when you had all this. Do you even know what food wastage is?”

Solas - the ghost of him, her imagined figment, whatever - is silent before he says, so softly, so painfully, “I haven’t seen the larder open for anyone in centuries.”

Lavellan bites her tongue and reminds herself of the poison on it. His and hers. She shouldn’t be feeling sorry for him.

“This was her space,” Solas says and something inside of her makes her turn her head to the side and she sees a huge fire place an hearth, ready and waiting with stacks upon stacks of firewood. “Her domain. When she - when she was displaced it disappeared with her. I didn’t think it would ever return.”

Lavellan wonders how many more parts of Skyhold vanished. She wonders if that’s part of why Skyhold seems to crumble in on itself, the lack of its own internal organs.

Is that what happened to Solas?

Lavellan goes and runs her hand over solid wood tables and shelves. No dust. No sign of time’s passage.

The apples are red and perfect. No bruises. No sign of mold or damage. Same for the lettuce and the carrots - the potatoes don’t even have shoots. The peaches smell fresh and are firm underneath her touch.

She breaks a loaf of bread and it smells like it just came out of an oven.

“How much is there?” Lavellan asks, intent on bringing as much of this up to the kitchen as she can. Who knows when she’ll find the stores again?

“I don’t know,” Solas says, sounding far away and watery, like he’s a child’s chalk drawing washing away underneath a patient and indifferent hose, “It was never my place to know. Everything, possibly. Anything.”

Lavellan picks up an apple and bites into it, the juice is tart and runs down her chin as she examines the room, mind turning as she tries to figure out what to prioritize first.

Everything, Skyhold seems to whisper back to her. For you, anything.

Except a door, Lavellan thinks. Everything except a way away.

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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dhreamsx · 5 years ago

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Um, how do I gift someone?

That’s pretty much the way I felt when trying to gift to someone that I didn’t realize and didn’t know. It’s hard, stressful and always takes up more time than I would expect. Here’s the thing though, it doesn’t need to be this hard, in fact, it should be pretty straightforward.

Occasionally gifts are given by us since we all know that the recipients will love and love them. Sometimes the niche is hard, like trying to gift someone cat themed gifts, for folks who own cats and are interested in cat wear. The hints that were ideal were dropped by them, we chose the ideal thing to wrap into that paper that was gorgeous and believed their preferences and pursuits. We give gifts from responsibility, picking items because flowers make people contented or even sending flowers. And sometimes we scour museum gift stores souvenirs our nearest and dearest will probably not treasure for at least a minute. But that second is worth the area and the 15. Gift-giving is one and a love speech which everyone can learn how to speak. This guide can allow you to build your fluency.

This might be the most significant question on your journey.

Gifting may be a method of representing the maintenance somebody has shown you, or showing you care about somebody. There is not a time. Oftentimes we attempt to induce our expressions of love to match molds instead of the recipients. ," that is an excellent novel, but nevertheless.)

Obviously, many occasions have established methods such as weddings and birthdays, and a few cultural or religious holidays. While by providing presents around these 6, rote can be felt, it's still important to attempt and convey your affection.

A note: Yes, a number of individuals have private ideologies around gift-giving that refuse things as materialistic or just clutter. It's still possible to find a way. Hang on, we will arrive.

Maintaining those truths in mind, Here Is the way to approach these and a list of events that are Potential:

Most folks, even though they"hate birthdays," wish to feel validated in their personhood, which really is the day that they turned into a person. Consider your connection. Is this someone with whom you're very near, someone whose desires and preferences are known for you? Is that a individual with whom you are trying to boost your familiarity? You need to receive something, if the reply to any of these questions is yes. The present need not fit the specific size (size, cost, etc.. ) of whatever they have given you previously. The purpose would be also to open the door, and also to exude their love and generosity. (For children, unless otherwise defined, a little gift essentially required at a celebration.) Spiritual vacations. There is a reason we envision incandescent living rooms full of wrapped presents once we think of this winter vacation season: People give a lot (sometimes more than they could afford) in the conclusion of every year. The National Retail Federation has estimated that Americans will invest between $717 billion and $721 billion in December and November, before Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. These presents are earmarked for relatives, but all sorts of relationships are able to span. Begin a dialog if you are unsure whether you are on these terms with somebody. There is nothing wrong by asking,"Are we exchanging presents this season?" Also it might save . Annually a few chooses to stay together is well worth marking, whether that is having out a night, a talisman for continuing companionship or any blend of both. If you are stuck about what to expect, there is nothing wrong with choosing the tack that is conventional. Years 1 through 60 of union have material topics that could direct your search. Not. However, some of those days produce conditions for giving that is creative. Are capable of enjoying a feeling of love. So whether that is a telephone call on Father's or Mother's Day, or even a bouquet of roses on Valentine's Day, it is well worth it. Graduations, transfers, deaths, births: A lot of these might be marked with cards, but in the event that you're able to think about something which supports or reflects the transition that the receiver is moving through, talk about it. Even better if it is something since they're managing the anxiety of change, they may neglect to consider is: consider meals for a friend or a doormat for a homeowner. Suitable occasions. The traditional wisdom of presents for weddings, bat and bar mitzvahs, sweet 16s, quinceañeras and the like is the present needs to match the price of a location setting, which can be more or less the cost of a fancy dinner (think somewhere between $50 and $120 and twice that if you are attending a guest). In scenarios where you are particularly close with all the honoree(s), your present may exceed that dollar number. Additionally, it may not be measured. If your budget is tight, then it is also possible to provide to exchange in experience for large events; if you are a photographer, by way of instance, your gift to the soon-to-be-wed few may be a pro-bono photo bundle. Random acts of kindness may be the most exciting: leaving something considerate about a colleague's desk, even sending a publication to a long-distance buddy, showing up with flowers for no reason except they had been beautiful and you wished to share this beauty with somebody else. The yield on those gestures is higher than the effort put in to them.

Just how Big Can It Be?

In regards to gifting, size matters. Here is the way to keep things in check.

Many times, gift begins with a budget. That is just reality. You can not purchase your buddy with a long commute that is hellishly a gorgeous Tesla because you know it would be appreciated by her.

1. Who's the receiver to you?

Is this person a direct relative? A friend? A buddy? A substantial other? An elongated family member? Your psychological and familial proximity will determine the present and private will be. That is to say, you do not have to reserve a spa package to get a new buddy , even when they actually, really need to unwind. Begin with a ball.

2. What values is the connection predicated on, and how can those values be reflected by the present?

Some associations trade mutual love of afternoons or garage rock, in dishes spent crafting about a coffee table. Some are profound, although incidental, suspended in possibility. Gift-giving may honor -- in both subtle and obvious ways -- your receiver and the motives you are linked and how much your connection has arrived. In the event the aspect of your connection is comedy Nevertheless, there is nothing wrong with a gag present.

3. What type of jealousy have you been shown by this individual ?

Can they go large and attend your marriage or your kid's birthday? Reciprocity will help narrow down your search and is proper.

4. Is there something over a physical thing might be appreciated by that the individual?

Receiving gifts isn't the love language of everyone. A dinner, or an offer while they are on holiday to walk their teacup pig, may do more for your connection than anything else. There's not a price tag on those kinds of gestures, but the attempt can make them precious.

Find even if they don't understand it.

The gifts are astonishing in a way that is fantastic. So before purchasing anything, think about these strategies.

Consider the things they may need. Can they only proceed, adopt a puppy or reserve an adventurous holiday? Gifting may be an chance on the manners they spent their money. Whenever someone states they need something, listen. There is nothing really like finally becoming the thing you have been hinting at for weeks. Having said that, do not be too practical. The purpose would be to delight, to not restock your significant other's bathroom paper stash. Has the individual ever complimented your own taste? It is likely that some thing on your wish list will make a't-know-I-needed-this present for a friend. Contemplate the non-gift Present. Some individuals do not want anything. But that does not mean that they do not desire anything. They don't need things. Lest an in-law insults perishables and experiences may be gratifying than something you need to remain forever. What is tricky is picking a dollar amount which does not induce the receiver to invest much of their money at a location. Nevertheless, you should not invest more and your gift needs to land. The etiquette expert Jacqueline Whitmore urges composing a notice to highlight the idea that you put in the gesture.

Can Be regifting O.K.? Regifting is not necessarily a cardinal sin. Why do you deprive them that joy, if you have received a gift which you are convinced someone would adore?

Imagine if they despise the present? Beware the Potential misread. Is your receiver the type of person who'd take the manner to soap? If the solution is"possibly," rethink the present.

Gift wrap does not need to be complex and elevates the experience.

Selecting a present your receiver will adore is the tough part congratulations. It's time to contemplate how the present can be elevated by you . Nobody wishes to be given a present in a tote with a reception.

It is a question whose answer is the same as the reply to a different one: Is your present living? You needn't wrapping even a pup or a plant. When they're introduced under wraps However inanimate items are given some intrigue.

Is it true that the thing lend itself to wrap paper or tissue paper? This is determined by if the present is soft or hard. If it's set in a box Whatever could be wrapped with paper. A jar of jam that is , or even a dry Riesling, on the flip side, would fare with tissue paper. Bags are an alternative, and she or he will reuse the vessel of the gift whether the receiver is resourceful.

Materials: Present, box (if present Isn't box-shaped), tape, paper, scissors

(The flooring is fantastic. In case you've got a designated gift-wrapping space , that is great also, but if you probably don't want this information.) Spread a sheet of wrapping paper and set the box onto it facedown. Wrap the newspaper loosely round the box to make certain that it is going to cover each side, then put the paper flat again. Cut the sheet, if you are using a roll of paper. The newspaper ought to be flush against the box so it creates creases along the borders. Push the left and right surfaces of the wrap paper in toward the face of the box that is facing you, then press down on the top and bottom faces of the newspaper so the paper kinds 40-ish-degree angles. Twist the top and bottom flaps toward one another and tape one across the other. Repeat these steps on the remaining part of this box. Have a second to respect your job. The best way to wrap a jar:

Twist every one the sides upwards toward the neck of this jar, and fasten them in a loose grip. Attach ribbon or twine round the neck of this jar to guarantee the paper. Other wrap tips for your less-talented one of us:

If you are creatively inclined and ready to spend the moment, Pinterest is total of all whimsical thoughts which are certain to delight. Anything could be gift wrapping, and because it generally goes in the garbage anyway it is wonderful to begin with something recycled. Some people today use newsprint or bags. Plenty of merchants provide gift wrapping for a fee. It is well worth it if you are feeling not confident in your abilities. And when it is complimentary take it. It'll help save you money and time and str Can I want to write a notice? You ought to. It may be as short as long or a sentence as a letter that is full size. However, it is going to lend heft.

When would you send the present? It worth doing if only to observe the receiver's joy radiate if it is possible to provide a present in person. But you also live an ocean away, and if your daddy's birthday is next Tuesday, you are better off state mailing his present. Some events have. That way will not have to push a U-haul value of boxes dwelling.

Do not worry over the particulars.

● Gift-giving is a love speech, but it is not everybody.

● Sometimes the best present has no financial value but is, rather, the free gift of existence.

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cyberpoetryballoon · 4 years ago

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Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

Since it opened in 2011, Jessica Koslow's Los Angeles restaurant Sqirl has been positively fawned over for its "new California cooking" and artisanal jams (including by MUNCHIES). "For a certain stripe of out-of-town visitor (me)," wrote Marian Bull for Eater in 2016, "a meal there has come to symbolize everything that defines the most stereotypically bourgeois notion of a contemporary Los Angeles lifestyle right now." No trip to Sqirl is complete without Instagram proof of its toast: thick-cut bread topped with a ricotta cloud and bright swipes of its signature small-batch jam. Sqirl's jam is the focus of a cookbook due next week, but following recent allegations, it's now also the center of a microbial controversy.

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In a series of Instagram stories titled "The Fungal," scientist and self-described "food antagonist" Joe Rosenthal shared claims against Sqirl, screenshots of which circulated on Twitter. Testimonials from current and former employees allege that the restaurant had a separate space hidden from health inspectors where jam was improperly cooled and stored with lids off, allowing it to develop a thick layer of mold. As recently as this week, employees allegedly removed mold from the jam under Koslow's guidance, deeming it "satisfactory for use once mold was scraped off." (Rosenthal also shared a photo from one of his sources of a bucket of mold scrapings from the jam.) When inspectors visited the restaurant, Koslow and her team allegedly instructed employees to hide "locked in this illegal kitchen space, with the lights off." And on top of all that, the restaurant and this hidden space reportedly had a rat and roach problem. Sqirl's high-end jams retail for $14-17 per jar, or $180 for a yearly jam subscription.

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In response to the allegations, Koslow stated through Sqirl's Instagram that the restaurant has an A rating from the health department and that its jams have always been made "legally and always labeled accordingly." She added that the low sugar content and lack of commercial pectin or stabilizers in its jams—part of their initial appeal—result in a product that's "more susceptible to the growth of mold." Comparing it to the mold growth on cheese, charcuterie (think: the white mold on salami), and dry-aged beef, she wrote that discarding the mold, and the inches of jam below it, was done with "with the guidance of preservation mentors and experts." (MUNCHIES has reached out to Sqirl for comment and will update with a response if we receive one.)

But as the New York Times' California restaurant critic Tejal Rao has pointed out, while this practice is accepted by the USDA for hard salami and hard cheese, the agency does not recommend it for jams and jellies. "The mold could be producing a mycotoxin. Microbiologists recommend against scooping out the mold and using the remaining condiment," says the USDA's Molds on Foods fact sheet. Similarly, the National Center for Home Food Preservation's official guidance is to regularly check homemade jam for "mold or yeast growth, or off-odors" and to "discard the product immediately if any signs of spoilage are detected." According to Michigan State University, low-sugar jams are, indeed, more likely to ferment, but that anything fermented or moldy should be tossed, not scraped.

That said, after an interview with mycologist Dr. Patrick Hickey, who Koslow cited as guiding Sqirl's practices, the BBC concluded in 2014, "Fruit normally lasts better than vegetables because the acid in fruit keeps harmful bacteria at bay. The [molds] you find on jam, are fine—just scrape them off." (As Hickey told the BBC, apples are the exception to this, due to their ability to produce the mycotoxin patulin.)

Sqirl announced that it will change its practices for handling bulk jam, but the damage of "The Fungal" has perhaps been done. Spice company Diaspora Co., which recently worked with Sqirl on a rhubarb jam made with its cardamom, pulled their collaborative product after conversations with Sqirl's leadership and past and present employees, and will issue refunds.

As off-putting as moldy jam is, it's just a layer above a much bigger discussion. Scrape it back, and employees allege that Sqirl's work environment was toxic and abusive in other ways, with former chefs like Javier Ramos and Ria Dolly Barbosa claiming that Koslow took credit for their recipes to great success. (Koslow was a recent James Beard Award nominee, and her 2016 cookbook was critically acclaimed.)

Koslow has also made unapologetic remarks about Sqirl's gentrifying effect on the primarily Latinx stretch of Virgil Avenue where it has been located since 2011. As Marian Bull wrote in her 2016 piece, Koslow has attributed part of Sqirl's success to what she calls its "shitty corner" where space comes at "two dollars per square foot," but as the blog Jimbo Times argued just last week, Sqirl's long lines and crowds are the manifestation of "another white wall encroaching upon another once-predominantly immigrant neighborhood," a process that has failed to cater to longtime residents of the community.

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

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carolrhackett85282 · 4 years ago

Text

Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

twitter

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

via VICE US - undefined US VICE US - undefined US via Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network

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melodymgill49801 · 4 years ago

Text

Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

twitter

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

via VICE US - undefined US VICE US - undefined US via Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network

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carolinechanson97838 · 4 years ago

Text

Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

twitter

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

via VICE US - undefined US VICE US - undefined US via Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network

0 notes

latoyajkelson70506 · 4 years ago

Text

Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

twitter

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

via VICE US - undefined US VICE US - undefined US via Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network

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deborahaphillips54303 · 4 years ago

Text

Mold? In My Trendy, Artisanal Jam?

Food Twitter had two things on its mind this weekend: cake memes, and moldy jam.

twitter

Yet again, reality is never as perfect as a well-lit, tightly cropped Instagram post might make it out to be.

via VICE US - undefined US VICE US - undefined US via Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network Mom's Kitchen Recipe Network

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cayleespenceros88 · 7 years ago

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