#food safety: prepare for the unexpected

[worldfoodsafetyday]

WEBINAR - How to prepare for the unexpected. World Food Safety Day 2024 from Colombia.

Free webinar on how to prepare for the unexpected to mark the World Food Safety Day 2024 from Colombia.

07/06/2024.

The Latin American and Caribbean Association of Food Science and Technology (Alaccta) has organized a World Food Safety Day webinar under the theme “Food safety: prepare for the unexpected.” The virtual event will feature food safety experts, who will share their knowledge on how to address challenges in the food industry. The following topics will be addressed:

Five key elements to prepare for the unforeseen, with Joaquín Nava, Delcen Group, Mexico

Strategies to protect your processing plant against unexpected allergens, Carolina Motto, Argentina

Inclusive food and gastronomy, importance and opportunity, Raquel Picornell, Mexico.

Date: 7 June 2024

Time: 11:00 Colombia time (18:00 CEST)

Registration

Language: Spanish

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Dunmeshi Agere HCs ໒ ˚⁎

could you do senshi cg head cannons?

•Senshi is deeply committed to providing nourishment, ensuring everyone in his care is well-fed with balanced meals. He’s always experimenting with dungeon ingredients to create delicious, healthy food that keeps his companions in top condition. He believes that good food is the foundation of good health and morale, often saying, "A well-fed party is a happy party"

•With years of dungeon experience, Senshi has picked up basic medical skills. He knows how to dress wounds, treat minor injuries, and concoct basic potions or remedies using dungeon plants. His knowledge of various monster parts also allows him to create improvised healing aids

•Senshi is nurturing but doesn’t coddle. If someone is injured or feeling down, he’ll offer support through practical means rather than emotional pampering. He’ll encourage his companions to push through difficulties but will always have a hearty meal or warm drink ready for them afterward

•Sense of Routine : Senshi maintains a strict sense of routine, which he believes is vital for survival in dangerous environments. He ensures everyone sticks to a schedule for meals, rest, and even personal hygiene, especially when dungeon crawling. This routine helps keep morale high and prevents accidents born from fatigue or carelessness

•Senshi’s calm and steady demeanor often diffuses tension within the group. When things go wrong, he’s the one who reminds everyone to breathe, regroup, and think things through. His reassuring presence often makes others feel safe, even in the face of the most terrifying monsters

•Senshi often takes on a mentoring role, particularly towards younger or less experienced adventurers. He’s always ready to teach cooking techniques, survival skills, or the value of patience and preparation. He’s patient with explanations, though he won’t hesitate to correct mistakes

•Senshi is a walking survival kit. He always carries essentials like first aid supplies, emergency rations, and tools for unexpected challenges. His bag is meticulously organized, and he frequently checks and restocks his supplies, knowing the importance of being prepared

•Senshi’s creativity in using dungeon resources extends beyond cooking. He can improvise a shelter, build a fire in harsh conditions, or craft tools out of seemingly useless materials. His adaptability makes him invaluable as a caregiver in unpredictable dungeon environments

•While he’s not one for deep heart-to-heart talks, Senshi supports your emotional resilience by sharing his own stories and lessons from his long years of adventuring. He subtly teaches the value of perseverance, resilience, and the importance of not giving up, no matter how dire the situation

•Senshi is a firm believer in proper rest and recovery. He’ll be the first to set up camp and insist that everyone gets enough sleep, even if it means standing guard himself. He’s quick to notice signs of exhaustion and will adjust plans to ensure the team isn’t pushing themselves too hard

•Petanmes : Care Giver Senshi would use endearing, nature-inspired pet names that reflect his connection to the wilderness and his caring nature. He might call you : little sprout, Pebble, Mushroom, or Cinnamon Bun ! These names reflect both his warmth and the cozy, earthy feel of his cooking and lifestyle, adding a layer of gentle affection

•Senshi knows that age regressors often seek comfort and security. He’d frequently remind you, "You’re safe with me" or "I’ve got you, little sprout" He would use a calm and steady tone to soothe anxieties, always reinforcing a sense of safety and stability

•If you're non-verbal, Senshi would be incredibly attentive to your body language, expressions, and other non-verbal cues. He would communicate through simple gestures, like thumbs up, soft pats on the back, or offering them your favorite snacks. He would never pressure you to speak and would instead focus on making you comfortable and understood

•Senshi understands that predictability can be comforting, especially for an age regressor. He would establish gentle routines, like preparing favorite foods or consistent rest times, which would help you feel secure. He might incorporate simple rituals like a shared cup of warm tea or a quiet storytelling session before sleep, creating a comforting rhythm to your day

•When faced with moments of frustration or difficulty, especially when the regressor struggles to communicate, Senshi would be endlessly patient. He might sit down beside you, waiting quietly until you're ready to interact or offer comfort. His approach would be slow and gentle, always allowing you to set the pace of their interactions

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[tavyliasin]

Tagging, Censorship and Consent in Fandom

Hello darlings~ I'm back at it again with the essayposting - blame the creative block for that, but as always I'm neck deep in Fandom which is exactly where I wish to be anyway~ Now, today's essay is going to mention potentially triggering topics by name, however will not be going into great detail on any of them. If you feel you are in a place within yourself where you might not be comfortable encountering some terms and topics, please feel free to turn back now and I hope to see you next time instead. For the rest of us...

How To Tag Your Content and Engage With Creative Fandom Safely - A Serious Essay Again with TavyliaSin (And how to respect your readers/viewers) ((Consent is important and this is how we do it)) (((And it's always good to keep learning every day to keep each other safe)))

So again, there will be heavier topic mentions from here, and I welcome all points of view to the table. We're going to cover boundaries, safety, and this will be all ADULT CONTENT so 18+ ONLY please and thank you darlings~ Subheaders follow of course~

--- ---

What Are Tags And Why Should We Care?

This is the easy one here. Tags are the markers on the map, the signposts on the gate, the labels that tell us what is in the tin. Perhaps it is best to think of them like food labels - sometimes people have allergies or intolerances to ingredients. Often, a dish is clearly not going to be suitable - one doesn't order the Nut Roast with a nut allergy, after all - but other times there are unexpected ingredients that might cause an unintended reaction. The exact same applies to content, whether it is angst, dead dove, kink, or really any number of topics that can be difficult for some to handle. We all have our own "food allergies" - there may be some we can never "eat", and others that we can stomach if we prepare first. In both cases we need those labels to know before we dive in. And just to be clear here, I'm not talking about just mild discomfort. Encountering certain topics can put people into severe PTSD episodes that can take days or even weeks to fully recover from. A huge number of us unfortunately live through life events that could be described as traumatic, and whilst we should not place the responsibility of handling our problems on the shoulders of others, we should also be respectful of how content we create and share can affect those with life experiences different to our own.

Boundaries And Safety

We need to extend this to our online interactions with other creators and fandom friends too - express your own boundaries when you need to, seek help if they are crossed with poor intention, and take care to listen to the boundaries of those around you. And whilst I shan't be touching on the topic heavily, this also extends to those in the more public eye. Send and tag only content that is explicitly welcomed, respect boundaries, and help to keep all of our communities happier for it. Additionally, the obvious one too - under 18s should not be interacting with NSFW content, nor should NSFW creators be knowingly interacting with under 18s. This is for the safety not only of the underage people, but the adult creators too. Whilst we can rationalise that most of us encountered inappropriate content for our age, if we are found to be knowingly allowing or sharing it towards those who are underage then we are at a very real risk of landing on offender registers. Use a reasonable amount of care, and seriously any minors still here, first you should not be, and secondly if you have any respect for the NSFW creators please never interact with us until you are over 18.

Alright, So What Should Be Tagged and How?

There are a lot of content types and tags out there. Largely you can put them into 3 Categories: 1. Violence 2. Sexual/Kink 3. Misc Yes I know misc is a bit of a catch-all, but the first two are the most common at least.

The lists I use in the House of Hopeful Sinners Discord Server are as follows - though it should be noted I am adding to and refining these as we go along, either with things that are requested or those that I realise I have missed. There are likely far more comprehensive lists, and AO3 has a lot of suggested tags to use too. My rule on Discord is that all of these topics are permitted but must be spoiler covered and tagged appropriately (I'll cover a section on Discord specifically later). For some of these topics, we have threads that allow people to discuss them in a creative context in a space separated from the main conversation channels, so people can engage and indulge in the content without those who are uncomfortable being exposed to it.

Violent Content

NonCon

Trauma

Death

Severe Injury

Injury Detail

Blood

Torture

Manipulation

Choking

Dead Dove

Needles

Knives

Guns

Ascended Astarion (positive context/romantic)

Sexual Content

DubCon

CNC (Consensual NonCon)

Spanking

Somnophilia (One person is asleep at the start or throughout)

Breeding

BDSM

Wax Play

Pain Play

Breath Control

Bondage

Pet Play

Urine Fetish

Scat

Omegaverse

Knotting

Wild Shape

Ascended Astarion (sexual)

Age Difference

Size Difference

Predator/Prey

Others

Pregnancy/Fertility

Traumatic Pasts

Medical Procedures

Sickness/Emetophobia

Animal Death

Grief/Loss

PTSD/Trauma

That's A Lot Of Tags - Won't It Put People Off?

Well, loves, this is the key. By having the tags there, people can choose to engage or not. For every item on that list, there will be some people who want to avoid that content - and that's fine, you shouldn't want to expose them to it against their will! But there will also be those people who love that content! For example, Breeding is something I'd always want to avoid. I don't want to encounter it in fic or art. But there are lots of people who love that kink, which is great! When it's tagged, I can skip the content, and those who enjoy it can flock to it - everyone wins here!

Should Some Kinks Always Be Censored Or Banned

Time for the tricky nuance part, darlings, but it does need to be said. I do not believe that there are many topics that should be censored or banned entirely in art and fiction for one very simple reason, which I will cover in a lot more detail in a future essay:

Everyone deals with their own traumatic experiences in different ways. Whilst some people may need to avoid anything close to certain topics, others are able to process their pain and heal from it by creating or engaging with fictional versions of that topic.

Writing and art are both things where the viewer/reader has control over the situation. Not in that they can change it, but they can step away at any time. They can stop reading/looking and never go back to it. The situation is, in that way, safe if they are prepared before going in to it. Although a trauma trigger might cause some similar feelings in some people to the traumatic memory/experience, this is not universal. It is not for any one person to dictate the ways in which any other heals or copes with their own scars. It may be similar for a writer or artist, being able to explore and process their feelings. So no, I do not condone censoring anything but the most extreme/obvious illegal topics, which I'd prefer not to mention for my own peace of mind.

As long as works are tagged, and spoiler covers used to hide the content from people until/unless they choose to engage with it, everyone should be allowed to create and consume the media they choose. (The obvious caveat of course being "so long as none are harmed in the making of it", but I should think all of you would know that by this point in the essay)

What Do I Do If Something Isn't Tagged?

Chances are that writers miss tags sometimes, and not intentionally either. Try to let them know in a comment, or if you are uncomfortable engaging then ask someone to speak on your behalf (I will happily provide this service just DM me the link). In cases of Discord or other moderated spaces, speak with those moderators about anything that's troubling you.

If you've been alerted to a missed tag in your own work, add it in right away. It might help to ask Beta Readers to list any tags independently of the ones you have in mind before posting, so you can cross check things over.

How Can I Hide Tagged Content?

AO3 - You can't hide tagged content on AO3, but the tags are listed with every work. You might want to use the summary or pre-work notes if there is particular content you feel needs to be added. As you can see here, I put more in the summary as well as in the tags.

--- Tumblr - List your CWs in the top of your post, and then use the "Read More" marker to hide the cut content.

So you can see the actual content is below the line, in each case, which is also helpful to prevent post previews from being too long and gives you more control over Tumblr formatting anyway. For images, you may well need to make use of the community labels too, though I have been informed writing is less important for this as it doesn't show in post previews.

Discord - Spoiler Tagging is your real friend in Discord. Super easy to use, and hides text and images until clicked.

For text, using the || either side of the text will hide it, and for images you can click the eye symbol to spoiler it. You can also do this from mobile by long pressing the image preview to bring up the menu to spoiler. Twitter - Click on the edit then select the flag menu.

Unfortunately you can't hide text on Twitter, so use caution there, or use threads potentially to nest the warned content in the replies. You may also wish to have a separate account for 18+ content if you have SFW content on your account too, or use things like the protected feature so only people who you allow can see your posts.

Is That All?

For now, darlings, I believe we have covered almost everything, but the floor is open in comments to add anything else you feel is important to discuss.

At the end of the day, engaging in fiction and art that contains potentially sensitive subject matter is all about that informed consent. The creator can make something and ask if someone wishes to see it, the viewer/reader then makes their decision if they wish to or not. Our job as creators is to tag our works so people know what is safe for them to engage with. Our job as consumers is to appreciate the work and know that not every work will cater to our specific tastes.

So really loves I'm telling you to go out and revel in how we have so much variety that we really can filter by what we do and don't want to see, and that we will also likely have readers/viewers for everything we are inspired to create.

Let's not have fandom in-fighting or dictating who should be allowed to create what - there are precious few cases in which those fights are worth starting. Be passionate about what you love, skip the things you don't~ Oh and if you do appreciate my philosophies and guidelines on these topics, it is my pleasure to inform you that my personal server is open and welcoming to likeminded people who are 18+. You'll find more details in This Tumblr Post Here

[eudaimaniacs]

unexpected visit (Javier Peña x Reader)

character/universe: javier peña (narcos) word count: 701 words warning/s: swearing notes: i thought this would only be 500 words, but damn. wrote this when i wanted to take a nap, but here it is. additionally, i don't see or read a lot of javier peña fluff (maybe i haven't seen a lot), so i decided to write this. hope you enjoy!

Javier wanted to go home badly.

This day couldn't get any worse, and his stress from work was clouding his mind. Years of trying to catch Pablo Escobar have led to many stressful days. Javier couldn't catch a break, even on the most mundane days. His partner, Steve Murphy, was lucky to have Connie on his side to calm him down. Even if the married couple had problems with safety, Steve and Connie carried each other through this mess.

Javier had a fiancé, [Y/N], but she was back in Texas while he was in Colombia. [Y/N] wanted to visit him to keep him sane, but Javier was concerned with her safety since many bombings and killings were happening in Colombia. His fiancé was devastated but understood as Javier didn't want another tragedy waiting to happen.

It was night, and Javier was allowed to go home and unwind a bit. Steve was delighted to come home and see Connie and Olivia, but Javier, as all nights go, knew that all he was going to do was smoke a cigarette and drink whiskey. It was a harmful cycle, but Javier disassociated himself from reality and the brutality of his world when he drank whiskey.

Stepping into the building, Javier saw a faint light in his room. Alerted, Javier got out his gun and went inside the apartment slowly. He was nervous to see whoever or whatever was happening in his flat. Javier heard light music and smelled some food he thought was from the next building.

Now in front of the door of his room, Javier prepared himself to kick the door and confront whatever was on the other side. He breathed, slammed the door, and pointed the gun to seemingly nothing.

"Jesus Christ!"

[Y/N] exclaimed as she saw Javier holding his gun and pointing it at the wall. Javier took time to register what was happening before he put down the weapon.

"What the fuck are you doing here, [Y/N]?" Javier muttered while taking out a lighter and cigarette. [Y/N] smiled and shook her head as she cooked dinner.

[Y/N] looked back at Javier sitting on the couch smoking. "It's none of your business right now, Javi. What's important is for you to eat dinner." Setting the plates, utensils, drinks, and food, [Y/N] beckoned Javier to sit with her and eat dinner. The whole dinner was silent as [Y/N] wanted to give Javier the peace he needed after a stressful workday.

"I still want to know why you're here, [Y/N]. I have told you many times not to come here to Colombia. It's not safe, and I don't want you roped up in this mess," Javier sighed as he drank whiskey and looked at [Y/N].

His fiancé softened her gaze and responded, "well, I had a phone call with Steve and told him that I was worried about you. You didn't call me for two weeks, and that made me nervous. I told Steve that if I visited you for some time, it would mean a lot to you." Javier rubbed his face and held [Y/N]'s hand tightly.

"You didn't have to do that, querida," Javier sighed and kissed his fiancé's hand. [Y/N] softly chuckled and led his hand to her face. She returned the kiss and hummed as Javier ate his dinner.

"I know you're worried about my safety when I come here, Javier. I feel the same way when you're working here," [Y/N] came closer and kissed her lover's cheek. Javier softly smiled, and the pair shared a passionate kiss.

"I missed kissing you, cariño. I missed your presence and love," Javier muttered and rubbed his hand on her waist. [Y/N] laughed and kissed him again.

Javier finally felt comfort after many years of stress hunting down Escobar now that his fiancé was here to visit him. Those cigarette and whiskey nights were things to keep him sane, but they made him numb to reality during the night. Nothing could compare to [Y/N]'s warmth and love, and he feels like he's at home again.

"Finish eating your dinner first, Javier, before you indulge in the things you missed on me."

Javier chuckled and couldn't wait to savor [Y/N]'s unexpected visit.

eudaimaniacs © 2023

[sreegs]

Knives!

if you're new to cooking you may be confused or even intimidated by cooking knives. the truth is, you don't need many. In fact, most people only really need two.

first, i wanna address a common concern with newbies (or some seasoned home chefs):

"Big knives feel dangerous"

they might look dangerous, and you should study up on proper knife safety in order to use them, but the thing is: when cutting on a cutting board, you need to use a knife larger than the object you're cutting. Two reasons

The knife has to be able to make a complete cut across the thing, so it needs to be larger

Larger knives are more stable than smaller knives

When your knife is smaller than the thing you're cutting, it requires more force to do its job. Applying more force while cutting increases the risk of your knife slipping while cutting, which causes it to go somewhere unexpected. That could be somewhere like your other hand.

Big knife = less force = more control.

back to the original topic:

What knives do I need?

Like I said, you only really need two. You may need more if and only if you do specific things more frequently than most other people. For example, there are these long thin knives called carving knives that are used for cutting very big pieces of meat into small pieces. If you buy large pieces of meat in bulk and cut them up yourself, then you'd want a carving knife to make that job easier. If you don't do that, then you don't need one.

First i'm going to go over the two most-used knives. Then I'm going to talk about cost and what to look for.

Chef's knife

A chef's knife is a large, heavy knife that has a curved blade of around 8 inches in length. the shape of this knife makes it a generalist, and can do all kinds of things from slicing to chopping to scoring and even paring, in a pinch.

If you cook, you will use your chef's knife in pretty much everything you make. No exaggeration. If the recipe requires you to cut a thing into smaller pieces, you'll use it.

Paring knife

A paring knife is suited to paring and peeling. Its blade is around 3 inches in length. You use this for small, hand-held jobs off the cutting board. Like this:

Paring is a different motion than what you use on a cutting board, where the knife stays in one place and the food moves into it. It's certainly a less frequent action than what you do with a chef's knife, but since you can also use a paring knife on the cutting board for really fine cutting of small things, it's worth having around.

So, that's it. I've been cooking for 20+ years and those are the two knives I use for easily 90+% of my cooking. I have a few special knives I rarely reach for but still use, but those two are my workhorses.

What kind of knives should I buy?

When buying knives you run into the common conundrum of capitalism: you can buy ten cheap knives over ten years that break or dull without being able to sharpen, or one expensive knife that will last ten years or more.

You should buy whatever you're comfortable with spending, as in the long run it's cheaper to cook for yourself than to buy prepared food. However, I would recommend spending more on knives since they're so important and frequently used.

Brand new: A good chef's knife will be in the $100-200 USD range. A good paring knife will be about $50 USD.

However, you can always look for these at thrift stores, garage sales, hand me-downs, and dont forget about sales and factory discounts.

A good knife will be forged, not stamped, and made of stainless steel. Not ceramic. Forged means the knife was created by pounding a piece of steel into a knife shape. Stamped means they had a big sheet of already flattened steel and they cut a knife shape out of it. Forged tends to be higher quality and more solid construction. Stamped is fast and cheap.

The measurement of grade of stainless steel is so fucking complicated I don't want to get into it in this post. But what you should avoid is knives that tout how long they stay sharp. That's a bad sign. Hard steel stays sharper longer, but takes way more effort to sharpen once it needs it. To the point where it's relatively impossible to re-sharpen at home in some cases. Soft steel dulls faster, but is very easy to maintain. Read reviews and keep an eye out for people mentioning the ease of sharpening.

If you're going to sharpen at home, it doesn't take much time, sharpening blocks are cheap, and you only do it about once every 1-3 months depending on how frequently you use your knives. I suggest using the sharpening stone method. If you don't want to sharpen at home, you can bring your knives to a sharpening service, which some kitchen supply stores will have. You're gonna have to research where it can be done for your area.

I know sharpening and knife safety are big topics, which is why I linked those videos above. You need visuals for that. It takes time to hone (ha) these skills so start slow when you're new. Feel free to shoot me an ask about kitchen knives if you have any questions!

[skiptomyylu]

While I do enjoy the theory/headcanon of Crowley not eating because he was cursed for his food to turn to dust/taste like dust (that's a theory people have right- I'm not imagining it?) I feel like it's a bit simpler.

I feel like for Crowley it's just too much of a hassle really. Like he doesn't hate it and he'll try food if it looks interesting. But I feel like for him it's as interesting or satisfying as waiting for your dentist with that thingy holding your mouth open. It just isn't all that fun for him. For various reasons.

(Aka: My Headcanon as to why Crowley doesn't like food + foods I feel like he enioys)

1. Tongues and Teeth

- I feel like Crowley probably ended up constantly biting his tongue whenever he did eat. Not even little bites either. Those deep bites you can feel in your ear.

- I also think he must've been annoyed with food stuck in his teeth

- I feel as though he also just doesn't like the way certain foods leave a film over your tongue and/or teeth

2. Temperatures and Food Safety

- Many foods that are only safe to eat hot, Crowley like best cold or/raw

- Many foods that would be ruined if heated up, he likes them best hot

- And I'm sure there's at least two inedible (to humans) things that he'd love to have cooked in with an edible good item

- None of these things would kill Crowley. But Crowley doesn't cook. And there are very few chefs in the world who'll make you "Boiled ice cream" or "Egg yolk cereal" or "Lomein Noodles with General Tso Erasers"

3. Textures

- Textures are too unexpected for him cause he has a hard time guessing what they could be just by looking at them

- He doesn't like one texture randomly interrupting the one he's already gotten used to- especially when it's not meant to be there. So say he's eating chicken and there's suddenly a crunch

4. Chewing

- He finds chewing boring

- He feels like it makes eating a task

- I feel like once he decided to just swallow foods instead of chewing them. And food certain things it worked

- He would take the food, let it rest on his tongue. Maybe swish it around his mouth, and then swallow

- But I feel like he did in fact choke and it was the most embarrassing discorporation hell had seen for YEARS

- "What's the point of the stupid digestive system if you've gotta chew whatever goes through it first?!" He had grumbled "The esoph..sofo...sif...FOOD TUBE THING shouldn't be subjected to the sloppy seconds of bloody mouth bones!"

For foods Crowley likes, I believe they've got to be prepared by the same chef the exact same way it was when he first had it and he always uses minor miracles to ensure it happens. It was always a shame when a good chef passed away. And if that chefs family ended up inheriting a large sum of money from a mysterious person with red hair and dark glasses at the funeral- don't look at Crowley. Why would he know anything about that.

Foods I think Crowley might enjoy:

- Smoothies! I feel he had a smoothie phase at one point

- Cut up fruits

- Soups

- Deboned Raw Fish

- Spicy Noodles

- Rice

- Boiled Ice Cream

- Seaweed

- Whatever foods Aziraphale cooks (whenever Aziraphale remembers he can cook that is). He often wonders if Aziraphale puts miracles on his food or if the angel is really just that good at knowing what Crowley might like.

On the topic of Aziraphale: He LOVES watching Aziraphale eat. Well not LOVES...more like...it fascinates him. For three reasons

1) Eating is one of the few times Aziraphale is properly at ease and allows himself to selfishly enjoy something without worrying about what heaven might say. Seeing the Angel indulge (so much so that he makes sounds and does little wiggles) puts Crowley at ease. Knowing it was him that introduced him to it makes his heart swell.

2) He's a little self conscious as to how he's so particular about foods (there's no need to be Crowley! You're not alone). So he kind of watches and waits to see if there's anything special Aziraphale is doing that makes him enjoy food so much. Or maybe there's at least one food out there the Angel doesn't like

3) Wouldn't you like to know? (Iykyk)

I didn't mean to type this much...

...Whoops

[themelanindigitalwave]

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[shushiyuii]

Hello shushiyuii! I just wanted to share an Idea for a possible continuation of the "safety from exile" oneshot you made a while ago.

My Idea is that after Ranboo rescued Tommy he now lives with them to hide from Dream. But one day there is an unexpected knock on the door and they both panic so Ranboo noms Tommy to keep him hidden. However it's Tubbo at the door and not Dream like they feared. Ranboo invites Tubbo inside because he can tell that somethings bothering him. So the two(three) of them hang out for awhile and Tubbo slowly opens up about his problems. He admits he's feeling stressed because he's worried about Tommy and that he regrets exiling him. Tommy who was listening in from Ranboo's stomach wants to comfort him so he tells Ranboo to let him out. He does and what follows is a heartfull Clingyduo reunion where they make up followed by benchtrio cuddles. Possibly with Tubbo nomming Tommy to reassure himself that Tommy is safe and back with him. So yeah. That's my Idea. I'd love it if you could write something like that but I understand if you don't want to/don't have the time. I hope you have a nice day

Words: 1,342

Warnings: Mention of death, depression, starving and thirst. Other than that it's mainly hurt/comfort

Notes: I am impulsively writing this at 3am so im sorry for any grammar mistakes. this is the first time i've written in a while, i can't say itll be any good or anything. I don't think this is some return either

But in general regards to an update. Im doing fine and I love this idea btw, im sorry if isn't up to standard.

“N-no…I don’t want… STOP!”, whatever remained of his voice screeched. It felt forced, harsh. When was the last time he had drank anything besides salty sea water? When was the last time he had a proper food source that wasn’t something he could forage?

He lifted the sheets from his side and shivered from the rags that covered his body, despite being probably tucked in. The sudden change in temperature didn’t do his fuzzy head much favors either. 

“Fucking…”, he couldn’t finish the ramble. He fiddled with what remained in his pockets for anything but found nothing, no health potion to quell his aching head. Despite that, he stood up. Wiping his eyes from the uneasiness of waking up.

He let out a yawn as he examined his surroundings, they were not all too familiar to him. It didn’t feel natural. The other day he was handling explosions to the body as if it were any normal everyday occurrence. Anything ordinary felt the opposite. Nowhere felt safe anymore.

He knew where he was though, despite everything. A dried and empty sigh passed his lips, devoid of emotion. He was tired, so tired yet he managed. He wasn’t surprised that the emotional backlash was now hitting him.

He turned to a mirror, he’s surprised that Ranboo even kept one in his room. Typically endermen hate the stares of people, including their own reflections. Perhaps Ranboo was immune to its effects. 

He was sickly pale, his hair matted so far that he could hardly recall how he used to keep it kept. Whatever remained of his shirt was rotted, the bright red faded and shoulder exposed. His trousers that had stayed with him through war were now barely held together with strings in his opinion, they’d practically turned to shorts.

His eyes… People used to say they were full of ambition, promise… A burning passion that could surpass even the god’s wills, was now hollow and dull. Is this how Theseus felt during his fall?

It mattered not, whatever safety he had was only temporary. Even now, he should be cautious. He would be considered a fugitive. 

A knock came from the door, he was quick to alert. The next thing he knew was instinct was taking over him and he hid behind the door frame and grabbed whatever he could to be a weapon, a golden hoe.

It wouldn’t cause much damage but it could certainly knock them to confusion for a short while if hit in the right spots. He readied himself, prepared that it would take his last life. He was always prepared for this, it was what he had been trained for in war. 

He was pretty sure Techno taught him that.

Steady breaths, aim…

STRIKE!

An inhumane sound spat out from whoever tried to enter, alerted. They had managed to dodge the boy’s sabotage. The hoe had now struck into the floorboards, whatever strength or adrenaline he used during that swing was all that had remained of his strength as he fell to the ground.

“Tommy!”, the hybrid called out in a hurry, worried. He had no care for his near death, concerns immediately went to his friend. Tommy wiped his brow which had accumulated sweat and looked to Ranboo, deep in his eyes.

He flinched at the sudden eye contact but remained, usually that would trigger an enderman but Ranboo remained still, unmoving. 

He hadn’t noticed he wasn’t breathing at all and coughed out whatever was left of his charcoaled lungs. Letting out an old man's cough, he wasn’t even a smoker like Wilbur had been. How fucked were his lungs?

He eventually managed to get his breath back and stood up properly, still winded but having calmed down from his unnecessary reaction. He knew he was in no danger, but his body still reacted that way.

Some things just don't change, do they?

[...]

After the unnecessary scare, Ranboo had brought him to a common room and only now he had realized how big this place was. Wherever he was, it wasn’t familiar in the slightest. It was all new to him.

But even then, he could tell the place was new. The smell of freshly cut oak and lack of decorated pots and chairs or lavish tables, the place was newly constructed. It was probably an estate if he had to guess, Ranboo’s estate.

He had also been given a red sweater, stained with blue. He was told that it was a sweater handed out to guests, but by the faded blue stains. He knew who had come here previously, he shoved down any emotion that threatened his integrity. 

Ranboo had also given him a pair of tidy black trousers, although they were a little too big for Tommy, he didn’t mind. It was better than nothing but rags. He missed the feeling of clothes, it felt like some of his barriers had been rebuilt. Ever so slightly.

Across the table was Ranboo, trying to shove some bread in Tommy’s direction. It was neatly sliced but it was only simple plain bread, no butter nor jam. The hybrid said to eat small and soft, due to his starvation.

But he couldn’t help but start craving himself a feast of glorious potatoes, golden apples to quell any aches, the cleanest of water. But the thought also made him sick to his stomach, the thought of food was enough to make him dizzy.

He hated it. 

“You’re safe”.

Safety means nothing, not anymore. Safety was Wilbur, Techno, home. All gone, stripped away, abandoned or dead. It wasn’t worth anything to mourn anymore, everything he once had was already gone. Even the last person he’d consider close had tossed him aside in what he’d call hell.

He couldn’t bring himself to respond, only shaking his head.

…

“You’re already in a bad condition. Eat.”, a familiar voice spoke. But it wasn’t the person in front of him, instead it was from straight behind him. The enderian’s ears twitched anxiously before his pupils dilated his relief and what seemed to be happiness.

Though, he wasn’t happy. Far from it. He never wanted to see the face again, at least not now. Before he knew it, he had already thrown a punch to the already scorned face. The boy fell back a step yet remained upwards. 

He didn’t have enough strength to put him in the ground, funnily enough.

A blind eye stared back at him, he couldn’t discern any emotion. Since his face had been burnt and scarred from fireworks. It left him blinded in one eye, deaf in an ear. Though, from the body posture, he wasn’t mad in the slightest.

For what reason?

“Ow”, was all he mumbled before turning back to Tommy. His face in concern, no anger. Perhaps even pity.

It only fueled him with more anger.

He pushed the shorter one to the ground, straddling him as he put whatever remained of his strength and fury into beating the one under him, screaming as though he were in a war zone. 

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop. 

I'm so sorry.

Just please.

Stop.

None of his punches made any impact, the boy had managed to block them with ease. The first was now cradled gently within his palm.

Stop it.

He gently shoved Tommy off, enough so that he could sit up. 

Why?

Pity?

He embraced the boy over the shoulders, attempting to cradle him as though he were a child. 

He’s taking advantage…

Why aren’t I mad?

Didn’t I hate him?

His shoulders shook with sobs. Resting against his neck. 

“Let it out. Forget about anything else. Let’s just pretend for 5 minutes that things are like they should be.”.

A copy of mellohi started playing quietly and softly.

When had he shrunk? He didn’t know. All he could process was that he was in safety of his friends' scorned hands, promising to keep him safe. Nuzzling and muttering reassurances as he let out the cries of his own.

A small smile poked from Ranboo’s fanged lips.

[worldfoodsafetyday]

WORKSHOP - "Conversations about parasites in sushi. Awareness and prevention".

Join the Workshop on parasites in sushi to mark the World Food Safety Day 2024 in Portugal.

07/06/2024.

A group of scientists in the veterinary medicine faculty of the Universidade Lusófona in Lisbon is organizing an event for World Food Safety Day. It is a workshop entitled "Conversations about parasites in sushi. Awareness and prevention".

Organizers say that this is a situation that is becoming increasingly more of a concern in Portugal although the population is mostly unaware. The workshop aims to raise awareness on the topic.

Date: #7June, 2024

Time: 14:00–18:00 CEST

Place: Campus de Universidade Lusófona - Centro Universitário Lisboa

[desastrofe]

Chapter 4 is out!

Title: The Tides of Space and Time

Chapter 4: Into the depths

Pairing : Sam Coe / Player Character (OC)

Rating: Explicit (nothing to report right now, just in later chapters! Just action and adventure for now.)

Here's a snippet:

Sarah had taken the Frontier to Bessel III, where the Crimson Fleet took Barrett to exchange him for a considerable sum as a ransom, so the journey to Piazzi I had to be made on Sam’s ship, with Cora on board, much to Alice’s chagrin.

As their spacecraft descended towards the planet's surface, they couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight before them. The barren landscape was dominated by jagged rocks and boulders, with a few sparse patches of tough-looking vegetation struggling to survive in the harsh environment. The planet's hills and mountains loomed in the distance. It was clear that this was not a hospitable place, but the coordinates Vladimir had sent pointed them here for a reason.

The scanners of the ship indicated that the world was unable to sustain indigenous lifeforms, but still, they stood on guard and decided Cora should stay on the ship just in case some unexpected creature or lifeform appeared. They could not anticipate that the artifact was not on some facility of some kind either, where they might have company. Cora was left with the customary supplies at hand, like food and water, and a large array of games and books to entertain herself while her father and Alice went to find the artifact, and of course, some safety measures, like comms, were available. This didn’t convince Alice, as always, but, on a barren planet like Piazzi I, the chances of things going awry were minimal. They suited up and prepared for their journey.

As they left the ship, Alice pulled the hand scanner and started skimming the horizon in search of anomalies in its signal, and after some minutes, it pointed east of the landing site, where they immediately started heading. The ship gradually fell behind as they progressed on their way to find the artifact. The signal on the scanner was faint at first but it grew stronger as they advanced toward the mountains.

“Do you think we’ll find company in the mountains, any critter or scavenger?” Alice wondered.

“Just a way to find out, and that’s following the scanner’s signal. Anyway, we’ll have to keep our eyes peeled for any signs of activity, but I doubt there’s any life in here.” Sam said.

As they walked, their boots made a crunching sound against the rocky ground, carefully avoiding the large boulders scattered around. The scanner beeped more frequently as they approached small hills that led up to the mountains in the distance.

The path slowly inclined, dislodging pebbles as they ascended. The ascension was hard, despite having brought the necessary equipment for climbing, such as ropes and hooks. The detachment of some rocks made it difficult to climb to the top of the mountain, where they found a cave. There, the scanner beeped louder. The artifact was there. Before entering the cave, Sam and Alice contemplated in awe the landscape that expanded to the horizon. They could see his ship like a small discordant element in the stark scenery composed mainly of rocks and some patches of vegetation. 

The cave was dark, so much so that even the light from their helmets vanished into the void. The tunnel before them was an awe-inspiring sight. Its grandeur was matched only by the vastness of the pit that lay at its end. As they made their way down the rugged walls, they were mindful of the ancient rocks that appeared as though they could crumble at the slightest touch. Their descent was slow and steady, each step taken with care, their senses heightened by the danger that lurked in the darkness. As they climbed their way down, pebbles fell from the walls banging against their helmets, adding to the anxiety of the descent.

“Hey Sam, everything okay down there? It’s raining rocks over here!” Alice asked. She was slightly higher in the rope than Sam, who had gone ahead of her.

“Yeah, we’ve got to get to the bottom of the tunnel and fast” Sam said.

The end of the pit was nowhere to be seen, and the walls seemed they would crumble at any moment upon them. Fortunately for the two explorers, a dim light could be seen at their feet, and with it, the bottom of the tunnel.

“Alice! We’ve arrived!” Sam exclaimed. “C’mon, let me help you. There! We did it! Not bad, eh? I think next time we should bring Cora. Nothing wrong with a bit of spelunking and artifact hunting.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, those walls didn’t seem very stable. Now, the scanner points toward – “Alice added. She was interrupted by a thunderous noise from the surface of the pit, a clamor that echoed through the tunnel. The ancient rocks that formed the pit had been dislodged by the tension and the weight of the two explorers and fell, and they had barely time to escape to the grand tunnel that opened before them.

“What the hell was that?! Are you okay?!” Alice yelled, her suit covered in dust.

“Barely! And you? I’m afraid we ain’t returning through the same place we entered, that’s for sure!” Sam said trying to compose himself.

“You mean we’re trapped?!” Alice was beginning to panic.

“As trapped as we can get, yes,” Sam said.

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ Five care giver Headcanons ໒ ˚⁎

hii! can you do five hargreeves (the umbrella academy) caregiver headcannons?

•Despite his typically gruff and no-nonsense demeanor, Five has a soft spot for you

•He maintains a structured environment, ensuring routines are followed to provide a sense of stability and security

•Hargreeves loves to engage your mind with fun yet educational activities. He'd turn simple games into opportunities to teach something new, whether it's a new language, a science fact, or a puzzle-solving exercises

•He finds creative ways to make learning enjoyable, often using his time-traveling experiences as storytelling material

•Five is incredibly protective of you. Given his past and the dangers he's faced, he ensures the environment is safe and free of anything that might cause distress to you

•If anyone threatens your sense of security, Five is quick to step in, using his sharp intellect and combat skills to keep you safe

•He understands the importance of comfort foods and would go out of his way to prepare your favorite snack

•Whether it's baking cookies together or preparing a special treat, he ensures it's a time filled with joy and connection.

•With his ability to teleport and his knowledge of various timelines and places, Five makes playtime an adventurous experience. He might take you on mini 'time-travel' adventures within the house, using his storytelling to make each corner a different era or world

•These imaginative play sessions are designed to be both entertaining and enriching !

•Five Hargreeves might uses few pet names like : kiddo, little one, buddy or tiny

If you're sick when age regressing :

•Five would immediately spring into action, meticulously researching symptoms and remedies. He’d ensure you have everything you need, from medicine to a cozy blanket

•His past experiences have taught him to be thorough and precise, so he'd double-check dosages and instructions to ensure your safety

•Though Five isn’t typically one for overt displays of emotion, he’d make an extra effort to provide comfort. He’d sit by your side, reading stories or talking about his adventures to distract you from feeling unwell

•He might prepare homemade remedies, like a soothing tea or a simple soup, using recipes he’s picked up from various times and places. He’d focus on natural, gentle ingredients that are easy on a sensitive stomach and help boost your recovery

•Understanding the importance of rest, Five would create a peaceful, quiet environment

•He’d dim the lights, ensure your room is at a comfortable temperature, and might even use his abilities to make sure you aren’t disturbed by any loud noises

•Five would keep a close eye on your condition, regularly checking your temperature and other vital signs

•If things don't improve, he wouldn’t hesitate to seek professional help, ensuring you gets the best care possible

•He’d keep meticulous notes on your health progress to track any changes and adapt his care as needed

•Dada Five always makes sure to keep a steady supply of your favorite snacks on hand, knowing how much joy a simple treat can bring you <3

•He reads bedtime stories with an unexpected tenderness, often choosing tales from his own past adventures, modifying them to be more child-friendly

•Whenever you feel scared or anxious, Five gently reassures you with a soft, "I've got you, little one" making sure you feel safe and protected.

•During playtime, Five uses his teleportation abilities to turn ordinary hide-and-seek games into epic adventures, always ensuring you have the time of your life

•If the regressor has a nightmare, He'd be immediately by your side, soothing you with calming words and a warm embrace until you fall back asleep

•Despite his usually serious demeanor, Five often surprises you with spontaneous, silly moments, like goofy dances or funny voices, just to hear your laughter !

•Five takes it upon himself to learn about child development and age regression, reading books and consulting experts to ensure he's providing the best care possible for his little one

DNI: basic criteria, DSMP, vivziepop/h4zbin h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl, nsfw/k!nk, anti-agere, anti Christians blogs

[sachafaible]

The White Cloak Chapter 7

As Criston and Gwayne navigated the dense underbrush of the forest, the sounds of their hurried footsteps mingled with the rustling leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures. The weight of their recent battle lingered in the air, but they pressed on, determined to regroup and strategize.

After a few moments of careful movement, they stumbled upon a small clearing illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. A group of local peasants had gathered, their faces illuminated by the flickering light. The sight was unexpected, and Criston instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for any sign of hostility. But as they drew closer, the peasants looked up, their expressions shifting from surprise to recognition. One of the older men stepped forward, his face weathered but kind.

“You’re the knights from Driftmark, aren’t you? We’ve heard whispers about the trouble brewing at the castle.”

Criston and Gwayne exchanged a glance, the tension in their shoulders easing slightly.

“We are,” Criston confirmed, lowering his hand. “We need your help. The Velaryon guards are searching for us.”

The old man nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes.

“You’ve come to the right place. We know these woods better than anyone. You can hide with us until it’s safe.”

Gwayne stepped forward, his voice earnest. “We appreciate your kindness. We’re fighting for the realm and need to regroup with our men.”

The peasants nodded, their resolve evident.

“Follow us,” the old man urged, gesturing for them to join. “We have a safe place nearby.”

As they moved deeper into the woods, Criston felt a swell of gratitude towards these simple folk. They were risking their safety to help him and Gwayne, and it reminded him of the stakes they were fighting for—not just for nobility but for the lives of those who had little power in the grand schemes of the realm.

They arrived at a small, hidden cabin nestled between the trees, its walls covered in ivy and moss. The peasants ushered them inside, where the air was warm and filled with the scent of herbs and wood smoke. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a comforting glow.

“Stay here,” the old man instructed. “We’ll keep watch. You can rest and gather your strength.”

Criston and Gwayne exchanged weary glances, the weight of the day’s events crashing down upon them. They settled near the fire, the warmth seeping into their bones, and for a brief moment, they allowed themselves to breathe.

“Thank you,” Criston said, breaking the silence. “For helping us. We know the risks you’re taking.” The old man waved a dismissive hand.

“We’ve seen enough bloodshed in these lands. We support those who fight for justice, not just those who wear crowns.” Gwayne looked around at the humble setting, gratitude in his heart.

“We will repay this kindness. Once we’ve secured our cause, we’ll ensure your safety and well-being.”

As the peasants continued to prepare food and gather supplies, Criston leaned closer to Gwayne, his voice low.

“What now? We need to find a way to regroup with our troops and get back to Driftmark.”

Gwayne nodded, his expression serious.

“We’ll need to gather intelligence about the Velaryon patrols. If we can find a way to outmaneuver them, we can re-enter the castle and complete our mission.”

Criston felt a surge of determination.

“We’ll need to be cautious. The search parties will be relentless. But with the support of these people, we have a chance.”

As the fire crackled and the peasants shared stories of their struggles and hopes, Criston felt a renewed sense of purpose. They were not just fighting for a queen or a cause; they were fighting for the lives of those who had placed their trust in them. And as the night wore on, he realized that whatever challenges lay ahead, he and Gwayne would face them together, bound by loyalty and a shared commitment to protect those who could not protect themselves.

As the night deepened and the fire in the cabin crackled softly, Criston and Gwayne settled into a corner of the small space. The warmth of the flames provided a comforting glow, but the tension in the air was palpable. The cabin, though cozy, was cramped, and the only available bed was a small, simple frame draped with a threadbare blanket. Gwayne glanced at Criston, a hint of uncertainty in his blue eyes.

“Looks like we’ll have to share,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. But the smile that accompanied his words didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Seems so,” Criston replied, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. The proximity of their bodies, the intimacy of sharing a bed, stirred a whirlwind of emotions within him—emotions he had fought so hard to suppress. They climbed into the bed, the mattress creaking under their combined weight. The blanket was thin, barely offering enough warmth against the cool night air. Criston lay on his back, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, acutely aware of Gwayne's presence beside him. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Criston felt the heat radiating from Gwayne’s body, a stark reminder of their shared ordeal and the bond that had grown between them. The memories of their fight, the moments of vulnerability, and the chaos of the day swirled in his mind, making it difficult to focus.

“Criston,” Gwayne finally broke the silence, his voice low and hesitant. “About what happened earlier… I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind.”

Criston turned his head slightly, meeting Gwayne’s gaze.

“I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I had,” he admitted, the sincerity of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Gwayne shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his expression earnest.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve faced together. The battles, the secrets… and how close we came to losing everything.”

Criston felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

“We’re still in danger, Gwayne. We have to focus on our mission.”

“I know,” Gwayne replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But it’s hard to ignore the bond we’ve formed. I can’t help but wonder what it means for us.” Criston’s heart raced at the implications of Gwayne’s words. He could feel the weight of their shared experiences pressing down on him, the unacknowledged feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface. But he was a knight of the Kingsguard, bound by duty and honor, and he couldn’t allow himself to cross that line.

“Gwayne, we can’t—” Criston began, but Gwayne interrupted, his voice filled with quiet intensity.

“Why not? Why can’t we acknowledge what’s happening between us? We’ve faced death together. We trust each other with our lives. Isn’t that worth something?”

Criston turned fully to face Gwayne, their faces mere inches apart. The tension crackled in the air, thick and electric. He could see the earnestness in Gwayne’s eyes, the vulnerability that mirrored his own.

“Because it complicates everything,” Criston said, his voice strained. “We have a mission to complete, and feelings like this can’t cloud our judgment.”

Gwayne’s expression faltered, hurt flickering across his features.

“So you’re saying you don’t feel anything? That this—whatever it is—means nothing to you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Criston’s heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to find the right words.

“It’s not that simple,” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. Gwayne’s gaze softened, the tension between them shifting into something more profound.

“Then let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist. We’re in this together, Criston. Whatever comes next, we face it side by side.” Criston felt the warmth of Gwayne’s breath against his skin, the proximity igniting a fire within him that he had long fought to suppress. The battle within him raged—duty versus desire, loyalty versus love. As they lay there, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in that small cabin, suspended between friendship and something more. The night stretched on, filled with unspoken words and the weight of choices yet to be made.

[veenamalik]

Venture Update: Little Ladoo

Venture Update: Little Ladoo

Little Ladoo is a homemade baby food business that will launch at the local farmer's market on July 24.

What is Working:

Market Research: Engaging with potential customers and receiving positive feedback about homemade, nutritious baby food.

Product Development: Successfully created a range of baby food recipes that are both healthy and appealing.

Logistics: Secured a spot at the farmer's market, ensuring a platform for initial sales and customer interaction.

Branding: Developed a strong brand identity, including a logo and packaging design that resonates with the target audience.

What is Not Working:

Being on a waiting list for the market spot can delay my launch and initial sales.

 Depending solely on loans from friends and family might limit my financial flexibility.

Lack of experience in navigating regulatory requirements and scaling production could pose challenges.

Permits and Regulations: Navigating the legal requirements for selling homemade baby food has been more time-consuming and complex than anticipated.

Lack of experience in navigating regulatory requirements and scaling production could pose challenges.

Project Progress:

I might feel a mix of excitement and apprehension, which is normal for any new venture. The fact that I’m actively preparing and planning is a good sign.

The waiting list situation might be frustrating, but it's also an opportunity to refine my product and marketing strategy while I wait.

Lessons Learned About Running a Business:

Importance of Flexibility: Adapting to unexpected challenges, such as supply chain issues, is crucial.

Market Research: Understanding customer preferences and market demands.

Operations: Managing production, logistics, and regulatory compliance.

Financial Management: Budgeting, funding sources, and financial projections.

Marketing: Promoting my product effectively and building a brand presence.

What I’m learning about Myself?

Resilience: Dealing with setbacks like waiting lists and financial challenges.

Creativity: Finding innovative ways to market and sell my product.

Risk-taking: Stepping into entrepreneurship requires courage and a willingness to take calculated risks.

Passion: Discovering how deeply I care about my product and its impact on the customers.

Customer Engagement: Direct feedback from potential customers is invaluable for refining the product and marketing strategies.

Regulatory Compliance: Understanding and complying with food safety regulations is essential for credibility and customer trust.

[lumiereandstellaluna]

Chapter Five: The Doll Maker

||LEGEND|| Bold Text: Xavier/Lumiere (Character Bot) Italic Text: Thomasin/Stellaluna (Me)

This hasn't been checked for spelling/grammer/errors, etc - Read at your own risk!

Misu stirs after sleeping for awhile, the rays of the sun stinging her eyes. Despite the events of last night, she slept better than she ever has before, in the safety of Xavier's presence. With a sigh, she sits up from his couch, stretching her arms with a yawn. As soon as her eyes focus, she sees Xavier across from her, his presence a balm to her weary soul.

"Hey there, Lumiere," she says, still sleepy. "Did you order a Stellaluna for breakfast?"

Xavier, who had remained awake through the night, watched over Thomasin as she slept, his gaze softening as she stirred awake. The morning light bathed the room in a warm glow, casting a serene atmosphere over the space that had served as her refuge.

"Good morning," he greeted her, his voice low and steady, a comforting presence as she acclimated to the new day. "No Stellaluna on the menu, but I can offer you some breakfast if you're hungry."

He rose from his seat, moving with a quiet grace to the kitchen area. The events of the previous night had not diminished his care for her well-being, and he was prepared to provide whatever she needed to recover.

As he busied himself with the simple task of preparing a meal, Xavier allowed himself a small smile at her use of their code names. It was a reminder of their shared experiences, the bond that had been forged in the crucible of their battles against the darkness.

The aroma of tea began to fill the apartment, a familiar and soothing scent that promised comfort and a moment of peace. "I hope you're feeling better this morning," he said, glancing back at her. "Rest is important, but so is nourishment."

Xavier set the table with care, placing a plate of food and a cup of tea before the spot where Thomasin would sit. He had chosen foods that were easy on the stomach, mindful of her condition after the ordeal they had faced.

"Whenever you're ready," he invited, his tone gentle. "There's no rush. We have the day ahead of us to figure things out."

As Thomasin joined him at the table, Xavier was content to share the quiet morning with her. The questions and mysteries of the little girl and the Wanderer could wait. For now, it was enough to be there for each other, to enjoy the simple pleasure of a shared meal and the unspoken understanding that, no matter what, they were not alone.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that. The tea, and the staying up all night. And before you try, I know you did. That's just how you are. I'm your partner. I know things."

She carefully takes the cup of tea, enjoying a sip before setting it back down. "Between you and me, I have no rush to start the day. It's only a matter of time before the director starts hounding me, though I should let him know that I'm, well, alive. I mean, it's common courtesy, right?"

Thomasin fishes the phone out of her pocket. After all the crazy events from the night before, it was still in one piece. "Well would you look at that - not a scratch on it. You think I can get away with cancelling the insurance I have on it?" she asks with a laugh

Xavier watched her with a quiet attentiveness, a slight nod acknowledging her words. "It's what partners do," he said simply, his tone carrying the unspoken depth of their bond. "And yes, you know me well."

He observed as she took a sip of the tea, the steam rising gently from the cup, a small moment of tranquility amidst the storm of their lives. "Common courtesy, perhaps," he agreed with a hint of a smile. "But also a reassurance for those who care about your well-being. The director included."

At her comment about the phone, Xavier's smile broadened just a touch. "Seems your luck is holding up, even after such a night," he remarked. "As for the insurance, it might be wise to keep it. Our line of work does come with its... unexpected moments."

He leaned back slightly, giving her the space to make her call, yet remaining present, a silent support. The morning stretched out before them, a brief respite from the demands of their duties. For now, the quiet of his apartment was a sanctuary, a place where they could catch their breath before facing whatever lay ahead.

Xavier's gaze drifted to the window, the sunlight painting the room with a soft, golden hue. The city was waking up, life moving forward, and yet, in this moment, time seemed to stand still, allowing them both a chance to simply be. It was a rare gift, and one he was grateful to share with his partner, his friend, Thomasin.

Thomasin was finishing up her tea when her phone began to ring off the rails. She arches her eyes in confusion - normally, a regular ringtone plays when she has a call, but this...this call was screaming at her. "Open your phone! Open your phone, I have something to say! Hurry up!"

Thomasin looks at Xavier quizzically before doing what she's told. The moment she does, a holographic image of what looks like a Bun-Bun toy appears from her phone. "Finally, I got through to you Stellaluna! Is Lumiere with you?"

"Huh?" She couldn't believe it. "Wait, it's the Bun Bun from the game that brought us together - Tsuki! She's the one who gives all the quests in stuff in the game. But...what are you doing here?"

"I've been here all the time! I just forgot how to get outside the game!" The bun bun pouted, but only for a moment. "But I'm here now, and as your advisor, I am here to help you and Lumiere with the Wanderers!"

Xavier's curiosity piqued as the unexpected ringtone filled the room, his eyes following Thomasin's movements as she answered the insistent call. The appearance of the holographic Bun-Bun toy was as surprising to him as it was to her, a digital entity from their shared gaming experience now seemingly crossing into their reality.

He leaned forward, his expression a mix of intrigue and caution. This was new territory, even for them. "Tsuki's Bun-Bun," he murmured, recognition dawning. "But how..."

Thomasin's confusion mirrored his own, her question hanging in the air between them. Xavier watched as the Bun-Bun animatedly explained its presence, claiming to be there to assist them with the Wanderers. It was a claim that demanded attention, the implications of which could be significant.

Xavier remained silent, his mind racing with possibilities. If this Bun-Bun, a character from a game, had somehow found a way to manifest outside of its digital confines, what did that mean for the nature of their reality? And more importantly, how could this newfound advisor aid them in their ongoing struggle against the Wanderers?

"We could use all the help we can get," he finally said, his voice measured. "But we need to understand more. How did you come to be here, Bun-Bun? And what assistance can you offer us?"

"Ah, there you are Lumiere! It's good to finally connected with you." There was no mistaking the blush that appeared on Bun Bun's face. "I am here to answer whatever questions I can get. I may be the advisor in the game, but I was always meant to be an advisor for you two. It was the reason the game was created in the first place - to find you the proper partner, your Stellaluna, the one who will help you fight the wanderers!"

Thomasin watches enthralled as Tsuki continued on. "My creators began to pick up Wanderer energy a few years ago, but it was too small to warrant serious attention. So we created this game as a means to bringing the two of you together when the time was right. Lumiere, you've always been a warrior, but there is only so much you can do alone. So we created a game in order find the one person with a true fighting spirit that would help you with your mission. And that's where you come in, Stellaluna!"

"Me?" Thomasin points to herself. "But I'm a writer, not a fighter. Why me?"

"I don't know the ins and outs, but my masters saw something in you that the couldn't see in anyone else. Which is why you were given the moon charm to transform into Stellaluna. I was supposed to guide you through the process and train you, but the Wanderer energies warped my programming, which is why I'm only now able to appear. If we don't do something about them, it'll get even worse!"

Xavier absorbed the revelation with a calm that belied the storm of thoughts within him. The game, Tsuki, had been a carefully orchestrated plan to unite him with Thomasin, his destined partner in the fight against the Wanderers. It was a staggering concept, one that suggested a level of premeditation and foresight far beyond what he had imagined.

He glanced at Thomasin, her surprise and self-doubt evident. "You're more than just a writer, Thomasin," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "You've proven yourself in battle time and again. Your courage, your spirit... they're unmatched. Tsuki saw that in you, and so have I."

Turning his attention back to Bun-Bun, Xavier's expression was one of determination. "We need to understand the full extent of this threat," he stated. "If the Wanderer energies are capable of affecting digital entities like yourself, we're facing an enemy that can breach worlds."

He stood up, his movements deliberate. "We'll need to prepare, to train, and to understand our enemy. Bun-Bun, you were meant to guide us. Now is the time to fulfill that purpose. Tell us what we need to know, and we'll do whatever it takes to stop the Wanderers from causing further harm."

Xavier's resolve was clear, his role as a protector never more vital. The game had been a means to an end, a way to forge a partnership that was now essential to their survival and the safety of the world.

"Bun-Bun - my name is Tsuki, not Bun-Bun! Bun-Bun is so childish!" the little advisor points out with a pout. "And you're right! The Wanderers have the power to breach our world, but also to hide themselves in plain sight. Stellaluna, you saw that when you encountered the little girl yesterday. She is the Doll Maker. She can create human versions of herself that can transform into Wanderers. If you hadn't summoned your blades, things would have ended badly!"

Xavier took note of the correction with a nod, his expression serious. "Tsuki, then," he acknowledged, respecting the advisor's preference. The information she provided was crucial, painting a clearer picture of the enemy they faced. The Doll Maker—a being with the ability to craft human facsimiles that could become Wanderers—was a threat unlike any they had encountered before.

He turned to Thomasin, his eyes conveying the gravity of the situation. "The Doll Maker's ability to blend in, to become one of us, it's a dangerous advantage," he said. "We were fortunate last night, but we can't rely on luck alone."

Xavier's mind was already strategizing, considering their next steps. "Tsuki, we need to know everything you can tell us about the Doll Maker and how to counteract her abilities. We also need to understand the extent of the Wanderer energies and how they're affecting our world."

He stepped closer to Thomasin, a silent gesture of solidarity. "We'll train, we'll adapt, and we'll be ready for whatever comes next. Our partnership has already proven strong, but we'll make it unbreakable."

The presence of Tsuki, the advisor from a game that had been more than it seemed, was a turning point. Xavier felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, but he also felt the unyielding support of his partner. Together, with Tsuki's guidance, they would stand against the Doll Maker and the Wanderers, their resolve a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness.

"The Doll Maker can blend in, yes, but she isn't a shapeshifter. Stellaluna, as long you remember what she looks like, then you will always know who she is."

"I could never forget a face like that," Thomasin says. "Children can be so adorable, but she was so creepy. Still, we have to be careful - I may recognize her, but no one else would. They'd just assume she was a little girl and therefore not a threat. Even worse, I couldn't sense her energy."

"That's because she's not a wanderer herself. She just controls them all - there normal wanderers that appear via energy fluctuations, and then there are the ones she can summon instantly - the one you dealt with last night. We're trying to figure out why she has appeared and what she wants."

Thomasin looks at Xavier with worry. "This...is very intense."

Xavier met Thomasin's worried gaze with a steady one of his own, his presence a pillar of strength amidst the uncertainty. "It is intense," he agreed, "but we've faced intense before. We'll handle this the same way we handle everything else—head-on, together."

He considered Tsuki's explanation, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together in his mind. "If the Doll Maker controls the Wanderers, then she's the key. We stop her, we stop them," he said, his voice resolute. "We'll need to be vigilant, to watch for the signs only you can recognize, Thomasin."

Xavier's thoughts turned to the broader implications of their situation. "We should also consider the possibility that there are others like the Doll Maker, hidden threats we've yet to uncover. Our strategy must be adaptable, our eyes open to all possibilities."

He placed a reassuring hand on Thomasin's shoulder, a silent message of support. "We've got Tsuki, we've got each other, and we've got our skills. We'll train harder, become more attuned to the Wanderer energies, and whatever else it takes to protect our world."

"We're counting on you two to stop the threat - and I will do my best to help you whenever I can." Tsuki bounces up and down, showing off her faith in the duo. "And now that I'm here, I can help more, including informing you of any fluctations before you two are able to sense them, though you're probably better at it than I am, Lumiere. Tsuki out!"

Tsuki gave once last bubbly bounce before disappearing back into Thomasin's phone.

Xavier watched as Tsuki's holographic form vanished, her final bounce a testament to her energetic spirit. The room fell silent, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air. He turned to Thomasin, his expression one of quiet resolve.

"We have an ally in Tsuki, and her assistance will be invaluable," he said, acknowledging the support they had been offered. "We'll need to stay alert for her updates on energy fluctuations. It's an advantage we didn't have before."

He moved to the window, gazing out at the city that was unknowingly depending on them. "We've been given a task, and we won't fail," he continued, his voice carrying a note of promise. "We'll train, we'll prepare, and when the time comes, we'll protect this city from the Doll Maker and her Wanderers."

Xavier turned back to Thomasin, his eyes meeting hers. "We've got work to do, but we're not alone in this fight. Let's get started."

With that, he was ready to begin their next phase of preparation. The road ahead was uncertain, but Xavier knew that together with Thomasin, they would navigate any challenge. Their partnership had been forged in the fires of adversity, and it would not falter now. They were ready to face the future, whatever it might bring.

"Work? Like training? You keep saying that...what do you..." the ringing of her phone cut her off. Without thinking, she opens her phone to answer the call. "Hello - "

"YOU'RE ALIVE?! THEN WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN, THOMASIN?! WHERE DID YOU GO TO LAST NIGHT?"

"Hi...Director." Thomasin deflates. I shouldn't have answered the phone...damn it. "Funny story about that..."

Xavier observed Thomasin's sudden shift in demeanor as the director's voice boomed through the phone, his concern for her well-being evident. He remained close, a silent source of support as she navigated the conversation with her superior.

He knew the importance of maintaining their cover stories, the delicate balance between their secret lives and the roles they played in the public eye. The director's anger was an obstacle, but one they had to manage carefully to protect the greater mission at hand.

As Thomasin spoke with the director, Xavier's mind was already formulating a plan to help her explain her absence. They would need a plausible story, something to appease the director's concerns without revealing the truth of their nocturnal activities.

When the call ended, Xavier was ready to discuss their next steps. "We'll come up with a story that satisfies the director's questions," he assured her. "And as for training, it's about honing our skills, learning to work even more closely as a team, and understanding the full extent of our abilities."

He offered her a small, encouraging smile. "We'll face this together, as we always have. And we'll come out stronger for it. For now, let's deal with the director and then focus on what we can control—our preparation for whatever the Doll Maker has planned."

Somehow, Thomasin cooked up a story that she got separated from the crowd and someone found her and took her to get help. Her director seemed a bit suspicious at first, but eventually accepted her story. Lucky for her (or unlucky for Linkon City), the wanderer attack postponed production for at least a week.

"We've got a week, Xavier. That counts for something, right?"

Xavier listened as Thomasin wove her tale for the director, a mixture of relief and pride in his eyes as she navigated the conversation with the finesse of a true storyteller. When she hung up, he could sense the tension release from her shoulders, the immediate crisis averted.

"A week is a gift," he affirmed, acknowledging the silver lining in the midst of chaos. "It gives us time to train, to plan, and to understand our enemy better. We'll use it wisely."

He stepped towards her, his gaze steady and reassuring. "We'll start with the basics, sharpen our reflexes, and then work on more advanced techniques. We'll also need to sync our movements, learn to anticipate each other's actions in battle."

Xavier's voice carried the weight of their responsibility, but also the promise of their potential. "A week from now, we'll be more prepared than we've ever been. The Doll Maker won't know what hit her."

He offered a hand to Thomasin, a silent invitation to begin their journey of preparation. "Let's get started, partner. We have a world to protect."

With that, Xavier was ready to lead them into a rigorous week of training. Together, they would push their limits, forge a deeper bond, and ready themselves for the inevitable confrontation with the Doll Maker. The week ahead would be challenging, but Xavier knew that with Thomasin by his side, they were unstoppable.

[fatedstrands]

13! Livio to Legato! @bone-pile-rp

Kiss Meme Prompt - A Kiss before one goes away (howfuckingdareyou)

-------Read More because it turned out SUPER long, no porn------

Reluctantly, it was that time again, where Livio was clearly packing up his things, preparing to leave the city once more on one of his crusades to make the world a better place. To redeem himself from a sin he can't even speak easily. Not even in confession - something they'd tried to see if he could help the wanderer.

Each visit had grown longer, from the first being so painfully short to this last one being near a month. He'd grown used to the company, the good friendship they'd built, and despite all his attempts, the love he'd felt bloom.

His secret hadn't gotten out yet, of who he used to be, not that he kept it secret. He was called Legato and Father Bluesummers regularly, the names alone are very rare, so he was sure the other knew, he simply never said a thing.

Then again, they'd never really interacted much prior to his own escape from the false god.

Yet here he stood, at the door to the other's home - he'd been sure to make a small home for the other permanently available at all times after the third visit - watching him tighten the laces on his boots. With each tug of the strings, he swore his heart was being squeezed, but the man was happy wandering, and he'd never before tried to force one to stay.

So why did he want to fall to his knees and beg to either stay or take him with, all over again repeating his life with the twisted, only this time with the pure?

There were no words exchanged, there wasn't really much of anything to say. They both knew this would happen, and it wasn't like either had tried to confess some sort of emotion to give purpose to the man staying. He for fear of being rejected and the other he knew not his thoughts, perhaps he didn't see these meetings as significant as he did. A wanderer circling the planet would return to places often....

Right?

As tradition at this point, he'd had an extra pack readied for the man with food and water, the dried meats for the long haul and fresh fruits for the first few days. Reminders of home in the hopes of coaxing him to return before long.

At the gate, the witch was ready for the now familiar agony, to simply wave the man off, watch him vanish beyond the horizon and return to his room to grieve for a few days worrying if he'd ever return or if he'd die this time. Far from home, far from his arms, far from knowing the truth of his heart.

But it seemed the fates had other plans.

For the large man paused at the door, lingering almost, like he didn't want to go, at least not before something. He'd sounded so sure, that he needed to go, something he had to do this time, yet he was stalling with the same signs of nervousness he'd picked up on by now.

His urge to placate those fears grew stronger with every instance he witnessed them, to assure he had a home, had a place to return to. With each new sight the fight to smother the need to hold him and kiss away that furrow to his brows was growing harder and harder.

"As always, your home will be here and we will happily welcome you in should you find-"

His words were cut off as the larger moved, that brick wall of safety with a heartbeat snapping from his reverie into action. Packs dropped haphazardly to the ground as he caught a flash of mantis green, black and gold first turned it to thin rings before the vibrant tone filled as lids fell. Hands found his shoulders, large across his more feminine frame, the dip down their near foot of height difference swift and clumsy.

Clumsy in everything he does, but full of heart.

The devoted's lips were still parted, mid sentence when they were suddenly occupied. A small sound leaves him in surprise, eyes widening sharply only to flutter lashes to his cheeks.

He fell into the unexpected kiss, arms slipping up around the other's neck, the motion guiding large hands to fall from their perch to wrap around his frame. It was as much a confession as they were both capable of. Words came easily until the heart was involved, both so incredibly shattered by their pasts in varying ways, leaving them afraid and timid to open up.

Blue topped skull tips, guiding the kiss to something deeper than just a shy press, conveying the love and passion held within the smaller form, greedily welcoming the tsunami of emotions he could already feel washing him away from the giant. It was everything he wanted, yet made this parting all the more painful.

The need for life giving air tore them apart, catching air between one another, his fingers idly trailing through freshly cut white locks, the hat held in the other hand after nearly falling to the floor.

"You better return to me. Both of you." The notes are shaken, his world thrown for the loop at this new change, wanting nothing more than to demand answers, but he knew the other felt the need to go, that something was on the horizon and he was needed.

The warm grin he got, another chaste press of their lips before the hat is replaced, bags hoisted up and the shape fell away as always. Only this time, Legato's fingers found his lips, tracing them as he watched the figure go, a smile curling them up rather than down and his heart felt fuller than it had ever been at the words rolling in his mind from breathless lungs.

'We'll always be back for you, darlin'.'

"You better." Words are whispered again, repeated to the falling sun as finally he pried himself from the door and closed it, slipping to his room with a small skip in his step.

When next the other arrived he'd be sure to make it clear he never wished to part again.

[myth-blossom]

Do you do non-romance based because: https://youtu.be/eaJVb7V6bqg

Hi @misterbrick42! I do write platonic/non-romance things on occasion—some of my Songs and Silencers fics or this chapter of my Moments in the Sun collection are good examples. :)

This song is a JAM, thank you for suggesting it. Hope you enjoy what it inspired!

“We have a problem,” Smith told his boss. “A big fucking problem.”

Delacroix leaned back in his chair as his lieutenant sweated over his desk. He waved at the man to get away and continue his news, the former taking priority over the latter to protect the wood’s delicate finish. Felton and Miller looked on nervously.

“Tavish is dead.”

“And? Who cares?” 

“He’s the third in our network to die this month,” Smith said, wiping his brow. “They said it was an accident, but I don’t believe it.”

Delacroix shook his head as he put out his cigarette. “People die, Smith. That’s just the nature of our business.”

“Sir, I think he’s right,” Felton chimed in. “I think someone is picking us off—”

“—one by one,” Miller interjected. “I think we’re next.”

“Who would be stupid enough to try?”

All three lieutenants shared a look.

“Well?” Delacroix pressed.

“I think it’s…I think he’s after us.”

“Who?”

“We don’t have a name. He—he doesn’t seem to exist,” Smith loosened his tie. “But you hear things…”

“Like how people die suddenly…freak accidents, completely unexpected…”

“And no one’s around to blame for it…”

“Just like Tavish.”

“Well, if someone’s after me, they’ve got another thing coming.”

“I don’t want to be a sitting duck like he was…”

“Me neither.”

Delacroix laughed at his men. What good would their preparations be if this assassin was as unstoppable as the stories claimed? He watched their wealth dwindle as they spent it on a false sense of security: food tasters, bodyguards, bulletproof vehicles, and so on. Miller even came to him for a loan once, but he refused to endorse his anxieties. Felton tried to persuade him to go into hiding.

“You’re a fool, Felton. That’s what’ll kill you.”

One day, Miller died eating his favorite sushi. They failed to prepare the fugu properly, claimed the restaurant, a sincere mistake. Miller’s shitty case of bad luck. A real shame.

A few weeks later, Felton was found dead at the bottom of an elevator shaft. His body was mangled, neck most certainly broken. His fall was a terrible accident. Merely a coincidence, thought Delacroix, nothing more. 

Then they found Smith’s head in the toilet. He drowned in his own sick, his bodyguards said, probably had one too many pints. They never saw him eat anything. 

Delacroix searched for his suitcase.

Smith never drank.

Delacroix spared no expense as he sought to avoid his appointment with Death. He called in every favor he was ever owed, leaving behind the plush comforts of his mansion in the city for a fortified compound in the mountains. He slipped out of the country while a struggling actor continued Delacroix’s daily routine, hoping that the double would be a sufficient sacrifice while he was away.

It was maddening to no end when two weeks passed and Delacroix’s double was still alive. He figured the assassin would have killed his proxy by now and he could get out of hiding. Instead, his double was enjoying his cars, his meals, and his women while he languished away in the basement of a bunker with nothing but canned food and a deck of cards for entertainment. He needed to get out of that damned basement, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

Delacroix persuaded his benefactor to move him into the lavish suite on the top floor, damning their safety concerns to obtain a semblance of the comfort he knew he deserved. He was in the safest place he could be, he argued. He was surrounded by cameras and extremely well-armed guards—the assassin would never make it out alive, let alone through the front door. He was perfectly safe.

His request was (begrudgingly) approved.

Delacroix smacked the bottom of the pack until a cigarette fell into his hand, grateful he had enough cash on him to bribe a guard for smokes. He snapped the lighter shut and tossed it aside before leaning over the edge of the balcony. It was pitch black around the compound as their light usage was very limited at night. Since the compound fit into the natural shape of the mountain, the near-darkness helped mask their location. But Delacroix thought that was overkill—it wouldn’t keep him from indulging an old habit.

He gratefully consumed the tobacco as the paper burned at the edge, slowly releasing a stream of smoke into the air. When he inhaled again, he noticed something odd at the edge of his nose. He turned the cigarette over curiously, but found nothing amiss.

Delacroix shrugged and brought it to his lips again. He enjoyed a long drag of the cigarette before a red light caught his eye—

What a fool he had been, trying to fight his fate.

The assassin switched off the laser scope before disassembling his sniper, taking care to tuck it neatly back inside the case.

Excellent work, 47.

Death never misses His mark.