#guam food

[duranduratulsa]

Dish of the day: Kadon Pika #food #foodporn #kadonpika #chickenstew #Guam #guamfood

[fweebie]

As someone from Guam who has a Guam hetalia oc. I wanna share what a family function looks like.

[jesslessthanthree]

So I live in south korea and sometimes I forget that certain things exist cuz they’re not sold here. On today’s episode of things I forgot exist, I randomly remembered cheez-its and I found them online, ordered them, and honestly my first cheez-it in years might’ve completely cured my depression

[jenbunny-star]

Lunch the other day with my good friend and Mali. 😌

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - June 8-14

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Rare foal born on estate for first time in 100 years

“The Food Museum at Abbot's Hall in Stowmarket, Suffolk, is home to a small number of Suffolk Punch horses - a breed considered critically endangered by the Rare Breeds Survival Trust. A female foal was born on Saturday and has been named Abbots Juno to honour the last horse born at the museum in 1924. [...] Juno is just one of 12 fillies born so far this year in the country and she could potentially help produce more of the breed in the future.”

2. The cement that could turn your house into a giant battery

“[Scientists] at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) have found a way of creating an energy storage device known as a supercapacitor from three basic, cheap materials – water, cement and a soot-like substance called carbon black. [... Supercapacitators] can charge much more quickly than a lithium ion battery and don't suffer from the same levels of degradation in performance. [... Future applications of this concrete might include] roads that store solar energy and then release it to recharge electric cars wirelessly as they drive along a road [... and] energy-storing foundations of houses.”

3. New road lights, fewer dead insects—insect-friendly lighting successfully tested

“Tailored and shielded road lights make the light source almost invisible outside the illuminated area and significantly reduces the lethal attraction for flying insects in different environments. [...] The new LED luminaires deliver more focused light, reduce spill light, and are shielded above and to the side to minimize light pollution. [... In contrast,] dimming the conventional lights by a factor of 5 had no significant effect on insect attraction.”

4. When LGBTQ health is at stake, patient navigators are ready to help

“[S]ome health care systems have begun to offer guides, or navigators, to get people the help they need. [... W]hether they're just looking for a new doctor or taking the first step toward getting gender-affirming care, "a lot of our patients really benefit from having someone like me who is there to make sure that they are getting connected with a person who is immediately going to provide a safe environment for them." [... A navigator] also connects people with LGBTQ community organizations, social groups and peer support groups.”

5. Tech company to help tackle invasive plant species

“Himalayan balsam has very sugary nectar which tempts bees and other pollinators away from native plants, thereby preventing them from producing seed. It outcompetes native plant species for resources such as sunlight, space and nutrients. [...] The volunteer scheme is open to all GWT WilderGlos users who have a smartphone and can download the Crowdorsa app, where they can then earn up to 25p per square meter of Balsam removed.”

6. [Fish & Wildlife] Service Provides Over $14 Million to Benefit Local Communities, Clean Waterways and Recreational Boaters

“The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is distributing more than $14 million in Clean Vessel Act grants to improve water quality and increase opportunities for fishing, shellfish harvests and safe swimming in the nation’s waterways. By helping recreational boaters properly dispose of sewage, this year’s grants will improve conditions for local communities, wildlife and recreational boaters in 18 states and Guam.”

7. Bornean clouded leopard family filmed in wild for first time ever

“Camera traps in Tanjung Puting National Park in Indonesian Borneo have captured a Bornean clouded leopard mother and her two cubs wandering through a forest. It's the first time a family of these endangered leopards has been caught on camera in the wild, according [to] staff from the Orangutan Foundation who placed camera traps throughout the forest to learn more about the elusive species.”

8. Toy library helps parents save money 'and the planet'

“Started in 2015 by Annie Berry, South Bristol's toy library aims to reduce waste and allow more children access to more - and sometimes expensive - toys. [...] Ms Berry partnered with the St Philips recycling centre on a pilot project to rescue items back from landfill, bringing more toys into the library. [...] [P]eople use it to support the environment, take out toys that they might not have the space for at home or be able to afford, and allow children to pick non-gender specific toys.”

9. Chicago Receives $3M Grant to Inventory Its Trees and Create Plan to Manage City’s Urban Forest

“The Chicago Park District received a $1.48 million grant [“made available through the federal Inflation Reduction Act”] to complete a 100% inventory of its estimated 250,000 trees, develop an urban forestry management plan and plant 200 trees in disadvantaged areas with the highest need. As with the city, development of the management plan is expected to involve significant community input.”

10. Strong Public Support for Indigenous Co-Stewardship Plan for Bears Ears National Monument

“[The NFW has a] plan to collaboratively steward Bears Ears National Monument to safeguard wildlife, protect cultural resources, and better manage outdoor recreation. The plan was the result of a two-year collaboration among the five Tribes of the Bears Ears Inter-Tribal Coalition and upholds Tribal sovereignty, incorporates Traditional Ecological Knowledge, and responsibly manages the monument for hunting, fishing, and other outdoor recreation while ensuring the continued health of the ecosystem.”

June 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

You mentioned that sometimes zoos don’t get the funding they need? Is there anything that we, as visitors, can do to help with that? Donations, contacting representatives, things like that? What can we do to help zoos, zookeepers, and the animals they love and care for?

What a nice question!

So on a “we need funding for this new habitat or major renovation” level, the cost is pretty astronomical compared to what the average person can contribute. For example, the Oregon Zoo’s brand new Polar Passage habitat (started 2016, finished 2021) cost $19 million. The Brookfield Zoo is planning to add on a new indoor/outdoor ape habitat to their Tropics Building and that’s estimated at $9 million. Unless you happen to know folk with very deep pockets, personal donations aren’t going to have an impact on that scale - although that doesn’t mean they don’t help the zoo in other ways!

Contacting your representatives and expressing your support for your local facilities is absolutely something you can do that helps. Especially so if the facility is funded by the city or the county, but even if they’re not, it’s really good for reps to know that their constituents value the facility and want to see it supported. You can always write them whenever, but it’s most useful if there’s stuff happening that’s directly related (funding allocation, new rules being proposed, etc).

I’m going to take this opportunity to plug another way you can help zoos, though, that’s a bit different. Your question is really timely because there’s actually an ongoing need for support at the moment (date stamp: 6/11/23). There’s an organization I volunteer with, called Zoological Disaster Response, Rescue, and Recovery (ZDR3) and they do, well, what it says on the tin. When zoological facilities, sanctuaries, and other facilities with exotic animals experience disasters - think getting flattened by a hurricane - ZDR3 coordinates a network of 130+ facilities who can show up and help. This is everything from sending food and needed supplies that are limited because of supply lines, deploying staff to physically assist an impacted facility with recovery, and even helping evacuate animals and house them until it’s safe for them to return. And it’s really important that it’s other zoos doing this work: if you’ve got to go chainsaw fallen trees out of an alligator habitat, you need people who know how to work safely around alligators! It’s a type of response work that other major disaster organizations don’t really do, because they don’t have the expertise with the animals or the needs of the industry.

ZDR3 can always use support, but, right now, they’re in the middle of a response in Guam where financial support is more necessary than normal. Guam got hit by the Super Typhoon Mawar on May 25th, and it absolutely ravaged the zoo there. It’s a small facility, with mostly geriatric, disabled, and unreleasable animals living there. A USDA representative asked ZDR3 if they’d be able to assist. The director flew out to assess the site and help as much as she could, but the thing is, because Guam is an island, they can’t ask teams from other facilities to deploy there the way the can with facilities in the continental United States. Instead the zoo is having to purchase all the supplies they need for recovery - and could really use assistance. There’s an Amazon wishlist set up with the tools and supplies they need, as well as a DonorBox link for direct donations (which go directly to the zoo, not ZDR3). If you want a tangible way to contribute to the immediate welfare of zoo animals and function of a facility, this a fantastic way to do it.

[starsstuddedsky]

In Sickness and Secondhand Embarrassment

seungcheol x reader

summary: what’s the best part of a terrible date? the end. that is, until a roommate catches covid and you’re forced to stay together

genre: fluff

warnings: swearing, food, SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT

wc: 5.3k

a/n: hello!!!! this is kinda based more on pandemic protocol from a year ago so it’s not quite the same as the current experience, but also covid is still very real!! anyways if you don’t enjoy second hand embarrassment don’t read.. I need to stop writing kiss scenes 😭

Seungcheol’s shoulder brushes against yours again. He isn’t doing it on purpose, but he thinks it might be his subconscious since he isn’t brave enough to ask to hold your hand. 

“Nice night,” you say. Seungcheol doesn’t miss how you avoid his eyes, staring at your toes. Everything in his heart screams awkward as he tries to think of something, anything to say. 

He thought it would be easy: he called Vernon about the friend he brought to the party, found out your name, and then found out you had asked about him as well. He got your number and asked you out to dinner. He likes you and you like him, so why is this so awkward? 

“I guess this is goodnight,” you say. You smile and Seungcheol forgets what he was about to say. 

“I guess this is goodnight,” you say. You smile and Seungcheol forgets what he was about to say. 

“I guess this is goodnight,” you say. You smile and Seungcheol forgets what he was about to say. 

“I… had fun today,” he sputters. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he knows if he doesn’t do anything soon, this already-painful date will turn into a terrible memory that he’ll never be able to live down. He thinks about telling Vernon about this nightmare, or, god forbid, Jeonghan and Joshua find out. He’d never hear the end of it. 

Maybe that’s why he catches your hand before you can turn around. In a spurt of his only confidence of the night, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” 

You look startled at first, but your frown quickly turns into a smile, if a bit nervous. “Sure.” 

Seungcheol leans closer, pausing over your lips and suddenly remembers the garlic pasta he had for lunch earlier. He swallows and prays it’s enough to hide the taste. He leans a little bit closer and your lips are touching and Seungcheol thinks they are warm and soft (and maybe a little bit chapped but his are too). Move, he thinks but the thought doesn’t travel to his muscles and his stupid brain can’t figure out what to do. The kiss lasts longer and longer and all he does is stand there with his lips pressed against yours. 

Finally, you pull away. Seungcheol doesn’t dare look in your eyes as he takes a step back. He can already feel his face heating up with embarrassment. Maybe it’s not too late for him to catch the shuttle to the airport and get on a flight and leave somewhere and never come back, maybe go to Guam, or Canada, or really anywhere but here. 

“Goodnight,” he mumbles, daring to glance at you once. Your hand is pressed against your lips as if you can't quite believe what happened either. Seungcheol turns down the sidewalk and walks away, hoping that he’ll never have to think about this again. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, a welcome distraction. Joshua’s face appears on his screen. 

“Hey, is it too late to cancel your date?” Joshua asks. He’s in the apartment that Seungcheol, Joshua, and Jeonghan share, evident by the cardboard cutout of the Rock that Seungkwan gave Jeonghan for his birthday last year that is staring at Seungcheol over Joshua’s shoulder. 

“Uh, yeah,” Seungcheol says, praying that’s the last question. 

“Cool, how are you feeling?” 

How to answer that? How does Seungcheol explain that he wants a comet to wipe him off the face of the earth, or maybe a time machine so he can go back and at least stop himself from that horrible kiss. 

“Fine,” Seungcheol says, because he doesn’t want to deal with the teasing from the J’s. It’s the only way this night can get worse. 

“No coughing? No sore throat?” 

Seungcheol stops. “What’s going on?” 

Joshua smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and Seungcheol recognizes the anger burning behind them. “Well, the little asshat is coughing and he took an at home test and it may or may not be positive.” 

“Joshua,” Seungcheol says slowly. “Are you telling me Jeonghan has covid?” 

“Yes! I’m supposed to have a meeting with my thesis advisor tomorrow, goddammit. Well, if you’re feeling fine you should probably just find somewhere to quarantine, or come back here and take the L, I guess,” Joshua says. “This is so annoying, and Jeonghan is going to milk the shit out of this until we’re sick too.” 

“Joshua,” Seungcheol says slowly. “Jeonghan and I ate breakfast together today. We shared a spoon.” 

“Oh, then you should come back.” 

Seungcheol sighs, remembering the kiss that would likely go down as one of the top five worst moments of his life. And he thought things couldn’t get worse. 

Well, he can’t be too pessimistic. Maybe telling you that he may have given you covid will somehow make this night better.

.

.

He sits on the far end of the couch. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to invite him to quarantine with you, but you trust that any friend of Vernon’s isn’t a psychopath, and he looked genuinely upset about the entire situation. Besides, if he really isn’t sick, then there’s no danger.

Except for the fact that you cannot forget the horrible kiss that wasn’t even five minutes ago. It wasn’t your worst kiss (that title went to Jimmy at the ninth birthday party of your best friend, who thought the enclosed space you were crammed into together during an intense round of hide and seek was the appropriate time to confess his love and then force a kiss on your lips when you were mostly thinking about how much you had to pee), but it definitely wasn’t the best. 

At least he seems to feel as embarrassed as you are. The few times you work up the confidence to look at him, he’s either staring at your carpet or fiddling with his thumbs. 

“Thanks again,” Seungcheol says. “You really don’t have to do this.” 

“Like I said, if you don't have it, we’re fine, but if you do, there’s a good chance you gave it to me, so you might as well stay here.” You tap your fingers on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, thank you anyways,” he says. “And I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. Not for the first time, you wish you had a roommate, or at least someone else in the apartment so you wouldn’t have to figure out how to deal with this all on your own. How does one properly host the person they went on exactly one (bad) date with and then possibly gave them covid? Offer tea? 

“So, you want to play Mario Kart?” You ask. 

“Are you sure you want to challenge me?” Seungcheol asks. “I should warn you, I’ve been trained.” 

“I have too,” you say, thinking about how many times Jihoon had cursed you out playing the game throughout your lifelong friendship. He taught you curse words you didn’t know existed. 

“Jeon Wonwoo himself trained me,” Seungcheol says, taking the controller as you hand it to him. 

“Jeon Wonwoo?” You frown at him from the other side of the couch. 

“He’s a streamer,” Seungcheol says. “And I thought a pretty popular one, but now I’m realizing I sort of sound like an idiot and should have kept my mouth shut.” 

“I’m sure he’s really good,” you say. “He could be really popular, I really wouldn’t know.” 

Seungcheol flashes a thankful smile and you remember why you asked Vernon about him in the first place. Not just because his smile makes your heart skip a beat, but because he’s so expressive that you think you can read every thought that comes across his face. As painfully terrible as the date was, you aren’t completely opposed to a second date, and his wide smile isn’t helping at all. 

Though, the way things are going right now, you are a little worried you might be stuck with him for the rest of your life. 

“Well, either way, we won’t know until we try,” you say. Seungcheol points his controller at you as if it were a sword, accepting your challenge. The familiar music begins and you select your character (always Shy Guy). Seungcheol chooses Bowser, which doesn’t surprise you. He chooses a kart while you choose a bike, and before long, the numbers count down. 

3.

2.

1.

.

.

In hindsight, Seungcheol wonders if he was too competitive. Then again, the score is still 50-50 for first place after playing four rounds, so it’s not like you didn’t match his energy. 

“This isn’t over,” you declare when he wins the final match and sets the score back to an even win rate. 

“It’s almost midnight, I think it’s over for the night,”Seungcheol says. “Besides, it’s tied!” 

“The last time I settled for a tie was Jihoon, and now he refuses to play with me,” you say. Seungcheol idly wonders if it’s weird that he finds the borderline violent look in your eyes attractive. 

“Oh, believe me, I’m not settling for a tie,” Seungcheol says. “Wonwoo would kill me if he ever found out, he called me his protegé.” 

“And you’re proud of that?” You ask, but you’re smiling. “Fine, I’ll concede for tonight, but this isn’t over.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Seungcheol says, grinning even wider at your fake glare. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with the couch?” You ask, standing up. 

Seungcheol is tempted to flirt and say, “Unless you want to share a bed,” but he decides with how badly he fumbled earlier in the evening, it would be safest to nod and keep his mouth shut. Besides, he is beyond grateful that you’re letting him stay with you; the couch might as well be a king-sized bed. 

Unfortunately, it is not king-sized, and his feet stick off the edge when he tries stretching out on it. You return with a rather flimsy blanket and a giant stuffed dog that Seungcheol is afraid is his pillow for the night. 

“I’m really, really sorry,” you say, “Nobody ever stays over so all I have are these.” 

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol says, already preparing his back for a very long night. “Like I said, I’m the one intruding.” You hand him a spare toothbrush and point him in the direction of the bathroom. 

Seungcheol understands why you never have people over: the apartment, putting things kindly, is shit. From his first step inside, he was shocked at the small size, with a kitchen that doubles as a dining room and living room (and where he would sleep tonight), a bedroom (that he assumes is tiny because you didn’t invite him to see and he figured it would be inappropriate to ask), and the bathroom. On top of the size, he was sure he saw a monstrous bug flying around that looked like some sort of cockroach abomination, but you didn’t mention it, and there was a strange smell coming from the sink drain. At least you were able to lighten the beige painted walls with what looked like handmade canvases. 

There is no saving the bathroom. Seungcheol was scared to enter it earlier, and his fears are confirmed now. He thinks the tile might have been pink once, but it had seen so many years and so many… fluids, that it has become a sickening brown color. The walls have suffered a similar fate, though it looks like there has been a fairly recent coat of paint. There’s no bathtub, and the shower head looks like it hasn’t been changed in ten years, and doesn’t seem to be able to control the water heat or flow at all. The room mostly smells like lemon and bleach, and Seungcheol wonders how long you spent scrubbing before you realized it was a hopeless effort.

He brushes his teeth quickly, feeling a little guilty that he has to dig through your cabinets for your toothpaste. He tries not to look at anything, focusing on his reflection in the mirror. That’s when he realizes that he’s stuck with these clothes: his nicest pair of pants and a button down that Joshua insisted he iron before he left. At least he had a white t-shirt on beneath it, but he was stuck in these clothes unless he asked you for a change, which was not happening anytime soon. He could only pray that he didn’t get covid from Jeonghan and would be free in three days. 

You’re sitting on the couch when he comes out. You don’t turn right away, and for a moment he catches a glimpse of you, back towards him, head facing toward the windows beside the door and staring outside. He wonders what you’re thinking, and hopes it’s not something along the lines of I hope this man leaves my apartment as soon as possible. He doesn’t want to be a nuisance, but he can’t help but feel that after the rousing game of Mario Kart, maybe the relationship between the two of you wasn’t completely destroyed. 

You’re smiling a little when the bathroom door clicks shut and you turn to see him. You’ve definitely caught him staring, but Seungcheol doesn’t really care, returning your smile. 

“Thank you,” he says. He trades spots with you as you stand and he sits on the couch. You linger for a moment, leaning against the arm. 

“I’m really sorry about the lack of a bed,” you say. “But I’m very broke.” 

“How about you stop apologizing and I’ll stop saying thank you?” 

You laugh. “Yeah, that works.”

“Good,” Seungcheol says. There’s more he wants to say, but unlike before, it doesn’t weigh him down and make him panic. It’s a warm feeling that makes him think he has a lifetime to learn everything about you. 

“Goodnight, yn,” he says, loving the way your name feels in his mouth. 

“Goodnight,” you say, finally standing and crossing into your room, pulling the door shut behind you with a resounding click. 

.

.

You wake up to banging noises in the kitchen. It takes a minute to remember that you aren’t alone in the apartment, and you aren’t being robbed. Though you want to go back to sleep, the banging is rather noisy, so you drag yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.

You just woke up, but you’re glad you went into the bathroom before confronting Seungcheol, because as your brain slowly wakes up, you realize your hair is a total mess and your breath is terrible. You brush your teeth quickly and try not to think about the boy in your kitchen because it only makes you more nervous. 

Strange, how your feelings for him changed so much in such a short time period. You were nervous before the date, then disappointed after how bad it went, but then last night was so much fun, and you’re back to being nervous at the thought of him. You hate the butterflies that are fluttering around your gut. 

They vanish when you see the state of your kitchen. 

“I am so sorry,” Seungcheol says the second he hears your footsteps. “I wanted to do something nice for you because you’re being so nice and letting me stay, and the least I could do was make you breakfast, except I got lost in your kitchen, and then there was an incident with the flour, and then this giant bug flying around my face, and I was going to clean it all up before you woke up, but I guess I was being really loud, and this is a huge mess, and I’m really sorry.” 

Seungcheol himself almost looks worse than your kitchen, between the frantic look in his eyes and flour covering half of his body. There’s some red sauce spilled on his shirt (which you have absolutely no idea where it came from since you don’t have ketchup in your apartment), and it’s clear he spent the last few minutes failing to get control of the mess of ingredients that spilled on the stove. 

“At least nothing’s on fire,” you say. 

“Yeah, I put it out pretty quickly.” 

“You set my apartment on fire?”  

“Only briefly!” Seungcheol grabs your shoulders, then lets go when he realizes his hands are still covered in flour. “Look, I promise I’ll clean everything up, just go take a shower, wait, no, I’m not saying you smell or anything, but give me like ten minutes and I’ll make it look like nothing ever happened.” He looks really desperate. 

“I’ll order some food,” you say, walking dazedly back to your room. Your kitchen was falling apart before, but Seungcheol has made it unrecognizable between everything that he spilled and whatever he tried to cook. You think maybe it was pancakes, but whatever happened in that kitchen is between Seungcheol and the bug that might as well be your roommate since all of your attempts to kill it have failed. 

“Yn?” Seungcheol says. It sounds like he’s standing right outside your door. It’s only been a few minutes, so there’s no way he’s finished cleaning. 

“Is something wrong?” You get off your bed and pull the door open to find him standing in front of you, head hanging low like a puppy that knows he messed up. 

He shakes his head, looking up at you with an exaggerated pout. “Are you mad?” 

You can’t help but laugh. “No, I’m not mad. A little stunned, because I didn’t think there was that much flour in my kitchen, but it’s not like you did it on purpose, so, why would I be mad?” 

“Seriously?” Seungcheol says. He looks almost hopeful. 

“Yeah, it can be cleaned up, and you didn’t actually set the place on fire, so it’s fine.” You shrug. Seungcheol doesn’t look like he really believes you, so you add, “Seriously, I was just really surprised, but I’ll find the bleach and help you clean as soon as I change out of my pajamas.” 

That’s when you realize a) Seungcheol is still wearing the clothes from the date the night before which b) are now absolutely covered in flour. You can’t believe that you didn’t notice earlier, but it’s obvious that he needs something to change into. You close the door to change, but dig through your drawers to find someone that suits Seungcheol and can’t seem to find anything. 

Your phone rings, and you realize you have the perfect solution. 

.

.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but Seungcheol thinks the kitchen looks cleaner than it was before. It smells distinctly like lemon, and the black stains under the cabinet (that were one of the few spots Seungcheol didn’t create) were successfully removed. Maybe it smells so clean the bug/monster/demon would finally leave your apartment (definitely wishful thinking). He washes his hands again, but they still don’t feel clean; he doubts they ever will be again, since you didn’t have any gloves. 

“It looks good!” You say. You insisted on working alongside him and refused to take no for an answer, which he was grateful for since Seungcheol had no idea where any of your cleaning supplies were. It was a challenge to use bleach without gloves, but Seungcheol is 90% sure you both managed to avoid bleach poisoning. Still, he figures it’s safest to usher you into the shower while he tries to figure out what to do now. 

He can’t even sit down and relax since he keeps leaving flour behind no matter how much comes off him. He ends up sitting on the floor in the doorway since it’s the only place that isn’t clean. Though the door is solid, the large panels next to it are windows, and Seungcheol watches the empty street. 

Here are his options: ask you for clothes to change into (mortifying) or live the rest of his quarantine life in clothes that are turning stiff from the mix of grease, flour, and cleaning supplies that have seeped into the fabric (possibly deadly). He strongly considers running away, but he decides it’s unethical to wander around while possibly infected. 

It’s from staring out the window and longing for freedom that he first notices it. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye so fast Seungcheol thinks he imagined it, but then it happens again. Black clothing, he’s sure of it. It’s moving so fast Seungcheol isn’t quite sure that it’s human. He stands up, now certain that whatever’s out there is real and a threat. 

Are there any weapons? He does a mental checklist of everything he’s seen in your apartment, and all he comes up with are the kitchen knives he saw in a drawer while looking for the cleaning supplies. He wonders if he should ask you, but the water is still running, and he doesn’t want to scare you just because he’s jumpy. He is already beginning to second guess whether he saw anything at all, when there’s a little knock at the door. 

Seungcheol inches back, hands feeling dreadfully empty. As much as he wants a knife, he doesn’t want to turn his back on the door now that there’s noises.

The knock comes again, a small sound followed by a soft rattling, as if something was rolling on the ground. Seungcheol freezes, not daring to get any closer to the glass, but trying to peer out and see what he can. 

The knock comes a third time, except this time it hits the glass and Seungcheol realizes that it’s a tiny rock being thrown. He watches it land in the dirt, trying to determine if it’s from the yard or another planet. Seungcheol takes a step up to the door and realizes his hands have curled into fists. 

He knows more likely than not, it’s probably some town kid that’s looking for an easy prank on poor college kids, but on the off-chance that it’s some other-worldly demon trying to steal his soul, Seungcheol braces himself for the worst. He rests his hand on the door, ready to tell off the kid (or die painfully), taking a deep breath. 

Before he can pull it open, he sees another flash of movement. He turns to the window and suddenly the entire left side of the door is covered in black. Seungcheol drops to the floor, cowering back. He doesn’t realize that he’s screaming until he hears your voice. 

He looks up to see you, hair dripping wet, glaring at the window, which isn’t populated by a monster about to pull him apart, but is just a boy, around his age, dressed all in black making silly faces. Seungcheol can feel his ears turning red with embarrassment as you crouch down next to him. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking genuine. 

“Yeah,” he says, accepting your hand to pull himself up. 

“It’s just Seokmin,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He thinks it’s funny to try and scare everyone. You get used to it.” 

“I don’t think I ever will,” Seungcheol grumbles but he follows you to the door and forces a smile on his face because he doesn’t want your friends to think he’s a sore loser, even if he is. 

Seokmin is still laughing when you open the door, which annoys him even more since his laugh is infectious and Seungcheol can’t help but feel smile isn’t as forced. 

“I got you so good,” Seokmin says. He backs away, keeping a safe distance, leaving a large plastic bag on the doorstep. “Oh my god, I’ve never heard a grown man scream like that, that was hilarious.” 

“Very funny Seokmin,” you say. “Did you bring what I asked?” 

“Everything is here!” Seokmin says, as if immune to your passive aggressive tone. “Breakfast, clothes, half the toiletry aisle from CVS, and two rapid tests donated from Jihoon because he said, ‘check and make sure yn hasn’t been murdered because I don’t trust some random man.’” 

“You can tell him I’m fine,” you say. “And he should stop being a little bitch and apologize.” 

“I’ll pass the message on,” Seokmin says. He turns to Seungcheol. “So, you’ve survived a night with yn?” 

“Yeah, I don’t recommend the couch,” Seungcheol says. He doesn’t want your friends to think he did anything strange the night before. “Thanks for the clothes.” Seungcheol lifts the bag and frowns at the pattern that he can see through the opaque bag. From what he can see, he’s doomed. 

“No problem!” Seokmin says with a grin. “You can keep them, I was going to donate them anyways.” He winks at you. “Stay safe.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin,” you say with a sigh waving goodbye as the door swings shut behind you. You glance at Seungcheol and raise your eyebrows. “You need a shower.” 

.

.

Putting it kindly, Seungcheol looks like a Christmas tree from the 80s that was left up year round and then left forgotten to rot in someone’s backyard. The sweater was once bright green, but faded to a strange color that you don’t think actually exists on purpose, and has a swirling bright yellow pattern that’s somehow withstood the test of time to remain neon. Because there isn’t enough going on, the sleeves have a plaid pattern in the same green and yellow, the hemming around the neck and at the bottom is faded red. You have no idea where Seokmin found it, or why a sweater like that was ever designed.  

Still, you can’t quite say you regret asking Seokmin to bring the clothes, because as chaotic as it is, he still looks rather cute. His hair is wet from the shower, a mess of curls that seem to be just a little out of place, and you wonder how long he spends styling his hair each day. 

“I’m hideous,” he says. 

“It’s horrible,” you say, “But you look kind of cute.” 

“You’re just trying to make me forget the fact that it was your friend who brought me the sweater,” he says but you see his smile. 

“Maybe,” you say, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Or maybe I think you’re cute.” The last time you were this close to him, he kissed you. A terrible kiss, yes, but you were very nervous, and you know he was too. Now you’re just curious if a second kiss will be as bad. 

Before you get the chance to ask, you hear a rumbling sound from Seungcheol’s pocket. He grimaces and pulls out his phone, answering it before he looks at the screen. You take a step back and fold your arms, wondering if you should give him some privacy. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Seungcheol says. You can’t quite make out the words of the voice on the other line, but after a moment Seungcheol frowns. 

“You’re joking,” Seungcheol says. “How many tests did you take?” There’s a pause before he asks, “So what do you have?” A few moments later, he shakes his head and hangs up the phone, saying, “I’ll talk to you later.” 

When he looks up at you, you are suddenly reminded of the night before, when he knocked on your door and told you that he might have given you covid. There’s this look in his eyes that says I’m sorry without him speaking a word. 

“So, that was Jeonghan,” he says. 

“Your roommate that has covid?” 

“Yeah, so apparently he doesn’t have covid?” Seungcheol says, looking exasperated. “I’m really sorry about all of this, but he just called and said his PCR test was negative and he’s feeling a lot better today and he thinks it was just a cold.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, Jeonghan tends to be dramatic,” Seungcheol says. “Listen, I already felt terrible that all of this happened, and now it turns out that it was for no reason, so I really don’t know what I can do to make up for it.” 

You tilt your head. “No idea?” 

Seungcheol frowns. “No?”

You take another step closer to him, peering into his eyes. He really doesn’t know what you’re implying, so you ignore your pounding heart and smile at him, tentatively resting your hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh,” he says. “Maybe a small idea?” 

“You should at least try,” you say. 

He leans a little closer, and you catch a whiff of his hair, which smells like your own shampoo. “Can I?” 

You nod, and this time he doesn’t waste a second before kissing you. He doesn’t freeze like last time, and neither do you, molding your lips against his. After a couple seconds, you can’t help but smile, and Seungcheol pulls away with his own smile. Much better than last time. 

“Does that make up for it?” He asks. At some point his hand found its way to your waist.

“It’s a good start,” you say, “But you’ve got to at least ask me out on a second date before you have a chance at fully making up for it.” 

“I think I could do that,” Seungcheol says, almost sounding arrogant. It makes you smile. His smile fades after a moment and he sighs. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve got to go back and save Jeonghan,” he says. “Joshua might actually kill him when he finds out.” He flashes a smile at you. “But I will call you as soon as we’re done and we can schedule that second date.” 

“I like the sound of that,” you say. You nearly jump when he kisses your nose, dropping his hand from your waist and wandering around the house as if nothing happened. He doesn't have much to collect, so it isn’t long before he’s standing in your doorway, poised to leave (and avoiding the flour on the floor). 

“I’ll call,” he promises. “Unless Joshua is in jail, then it might take a while, but I’ll call eventually.” 

“I know a good lawyer,” you say. “Well, he will be, eventually.” He pushes the door open and walks out, but pauses before letting the door swing shut, turning back to look at you again. 

“As chaotic as it was, I’m sort of glad that this happened,” he says. “I mean, obviously I still feel bad that I crashed on your couch for basically no reason, but I got to see a lot more of you, and I really liked it. Being with you.” 

“I like you too, dork,” you say. “And if you didn’t crash on my couch I never would have called you back, that was a terrible first date.” 

“Yeah, it really was,” he says. He still lingers. 

“Don’t you dare forget that we still have a rematch for Mario kart.” 

“Oh, liking you means nothing, I will take you down,” Seungcheol says. He smiles at you. “Goodbye, yn.” 

“Goodbye, Seungcheol,” you say. He finally lets the door swing shut, walking down the sidewalk. He pauses at the end to wave a final time, then disappears around the corner. 

You turn back to your apartment. Though you didn’t even spend twenty-four hours stuck here with him, it already feels emptier without him. You lay back on the couch, thinking about the whirlwind of emotions of the past day, and finally settling on the thought of seeing Seungcheol again. And you smile. 

a/n2: I had to clown dk I’m sorry

[jbdforspence]

SCU (smosh cinematic universe) headcanons:

This is basically me geeking out over fucking smosh sketches of all things (😭) and wanting to try and view it as a coherent story n shit 💀

This is more so me rambling while being lowkey out of it and definetly shouldn’t have let the drafts but hey I’m hoping someone appreciates this idk

Uhh also these aren’t tumblr style headcanons it’s like weird lore shit idk

Most of these aren’t Ianthony sketch ones btw!!

Augustus was fired from Smosh after the events of We Interviewed our Biggest Hater (oct. 2021), where he then got a job working for GameStop which we see in POV: You’ve entered a GameStop (nov. 2021). This head canon is more so just for like putting together a cohesive timeline but anyways

The documentarian from the grimace sketch is the same guy from the totally true documentary series

all the chosen lore shit isn’t bs and actually true because i think it’s way more fun (sorry, know that’s not the popular approach) also the chosen HAS powers in No Nut 2022, which isn’t a sketch I’d want to be canon but oh well 💀

Some of this is rooted in canon but instead of Anthony’s whole leaving smosh saga and all the vids surrounding it, Anthony straight up completely disappears from the public eye and becomes Anthobrie (idk how to spell her name) for 7 years after food battle 2016. Every video where Anthony plays his sketch universe self post fb2016 before he quit in the timeline takes place beforehand, with new Ianthony sketches taking place after fb2023 and after whatever video they make where they reanimate him (honestly I’m predicting fb2024). Anyways to the main headcanon, Anthony straight up left the face of the earth and everyone was like “yeah he quit smosh ig…” until during the first chosen multiverse Courtney’s chosen came and was like “bro he’s fighting laser dolphins in Guam???” Because the Anthony from their universe is doing that and everyone just kinda went with it until fb2023

Pharaoh High, I’mBarly, Lianna Indiana, The Curse Of The Shorts, Dancer @ Singer School, Varsity High and Smosh the Movie (as well as other tv shows and movies acted out in sketches I didn’t say) are canon tv shows and movies within the SCU, with Smosh the movie being acted out by sketch universe Ian and Anthony

fuck it the two paramedics played by Spencer and Tommy in the pregnancy smoffice sketch are married to each other 🥰🥰

The Every Blank Ever vids are canonically sketches played by the sketch universe versions of the cast

Shayne is actually 5’6 😘

Yo feel free to reply n shit disagreeing or whatever I’m real open to other’s views n shit, like for one I don’t even know whether to put Ianthony sketches in the same universe as like smoffice n shit lmao idk too sleep deprived to process anything I said in this post 😍😍

[fan-of-all-doms]

Introducing my Hazbin Hotel OC, Cyrus!

Sinner (Bat)

25

He/they

Autistic

Lived in the U.S. Midwest until he moved to Guam to work at a bat sanctuary

Got sick and died sometime after 2020 when he was 25

Gen Z

Trans FTM

Nonbinary

Panromantic

Asexual (Sex-Positive)

Has gotten top surgery but not bottom (that'll be important later)

Likes

Angel

Feminine clothing

Fall Out Boy (and any emo music)

Making art/crafting

Plushies

Cartoons/Animation

BDSM

Dislikes

People hurting his friends

Trans/Homophobes

Needles

Having Meltdowns

Anything not his safe foods/textures

Valentino

He didn't turn out exactly like I pictured, but hopefully my skill will improve and I can redraw them closer to what I want. The wings on his arms are extendable so he can fly. If they were canon I'd want them to be voiced by Julian Comeau from the band Loveless.

Cyrus is just one of my many OCs for different fandoms, and I have time now to really start bringing them all to life and can hopefully soon start a sideblog for them! Feel free to ask me questions about Cyrus in the comments or my askbox (it's always open)!

[peskellence]

up in smoke

Explicit content (18+)

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: M/M, Oral, Rough Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Shameless Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Toxic Relationships, Ex-Boyfriends

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: Gavin couldn't stand parties. Least of all, the ones that were hosted by his pretentious older brother. When the ‘small festive gathering’ he has been invited to turns out to be a networking event, he's quickly left wondering if things could possibly get any worse - and then he runs into Nolan, his former colleague and ex-boyfriend.

Modern-day Human!AU loosely taking place at Christmas.

Word Count: 5.4K

Gavin stood at his brother's front door, his fist poised hesitantly over the sleek black panelling. The invitation had come last minute, and he still couldn't quite explain what had compelled him to accept. Perhaps it was the promise of free food - or the opportunity to make his brother squirm with visceral recounts of the most recent horror movies he’d been watching.

Regardless, he found himself rooted in place, the bitter chill outside nipping at his skin - with the cheapest, shittiest bottle of wine the gas station had to offer clutched in his available hand. A torn grumble escaped his lips as he reluctantly brought down his fist. Not seconds after it made impact, the door had swung open. 

"Gavin, you're here." 

Elijah's greeting was accompanied by a nauseating grin nearly as bright as his garish red suit. Gavin had always found it impressive that despite his sibling's enviable wealth, he couldn't afford himself a sense of style.

Shoving his lacklustre gift into his brother's chest, he stepped through the doorway, dusting off his mud-caked boots on the runner. He did a quick scan of the hallway and discovered that the nearby shoe rack was stacked to the point of overflowing. 

“So, who have you invited to this thing other than me? And please don't say Auntie Christie. If I have to listen to one more story about that 20-something masseuse she met in Guam, I'm going to kill myself.” 

“No, Auntie Christie”, Elijah assured, his lips curled inwards as he suppressed a chuckle. “This is really more of a…networking event, with some of the teams from the sister office.”

Gavin, who had been halfway through shrugging his jacket off, promptly halted his movements. He glared at his brother accusingly, mouth pulling into a tight scowl. “You said this was a ‘small festive gathering.’”

“It is small, really. There can't be much more than a hundred people.”

As he focused in on the sounds coming from the parlour, a persistent rumble of voices reached his ears, accompanied by a flurry of footsteps. While the incessant drone of Christmas music sought to drown it out, the signs of life were unmistakable. The house was heaving. 

“I'm out”, he announced, turning on his heel and rounding towards the exit. “You always do this, I can't believe you.”

“Gavin, stay a while”, Elijah implored, stretching out an arm to obstruct his path. “It's freezing out there.”

“Why do you even want me at a networking event? I thought you were done inviting me to those after the last time I embarrassed you.” 

There was a flicker of recollection across his brother's face, followed by a wince. ‘Embarrassed’ was an understatement. Gavin had humiliated him. After receiving a dare from Tina, one of the few lively consultants at their office, he had revisited an old childhood pastime: sliding down the stairs on a baking tray. The result was a shattered collarbone and an enduring bloodstain on a pair of silk curtains. 

“I thought maybe we could discuss your resignation”, Elijah continued, trying to usher him back inside. “We’ve not filled the position yet; it’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I’m not going to change my mind”, he shot back. 

Even if it hadn't been for the ‘incident’, Gavin was firmly set on the fact that he would not be returning to work. The job at the company had been all but handed to him, accepted at a time of financial desperation. Truthfully, he had never fully grasped what the role entailed. Other than being mind-numbingly tedious. 

“The team misses you.”

“I seriously fucking doubt that.”

“Well, Tina misses you”, his brother corrected, trying to remain diplomatic. 

Gavin hesitated briefly, feeling a small spark of interest. Perhaps he could inject some much-needed life into the festivities with the help of an old confidante. “Is she here?”

“No, she has the flu.”

The rogue spark of hope extinguished, and he resumed his efforts to push past his brother. “Then I'm not staying. Bye, Eli.”

“You didn't need to leave over what happened”, his sibling said back. “We could implement some restructures to the teams to make it more comfortable for everyone. I spoke with Nolan about it, and he - ” 

“Don't.” Gavin felt a bitter twist in his stomach at the mention of the name. Glancing back into the house, his eyes darted towards the presumably bustling parlour, narrowed in a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Is he here?”

“I haven't seen him…” Elijah said vaguely, “Not unless Chloe let him in.” Then, his eyes twinkled in inspiration as he made a last-ditch effort to convince his sibling. “She made those Mac and Cheese bites you love. Did you not want to have some before you go?”

Gavin’s cavernous belly rumbled to life at the mention of the snack. It was no surprise that his current lack of employment had left him with dwindling funds - as well as a sparsely filled fridge. Realistically, he couldn't say no to the offer of free food, even if it meant tolerating some less-than-stellar company.

With reluctance, he conceded, turning back into the house. “...Fine, but after that, I’m gone.” 

Perfect,” his brother responded, the nauseating smile returning. Glancing down at the bottle he had been gifted, he struggled to mask his disappointment. The label read ‘White Wine’ in a messy back font, with no other information - having likely been scribbled on by the store clerk himself after losing the original tag. “You know what, this is lovely. It really should be saved for a special occasion.”

Entering the parlour, Gavin parked himself at the end of an outstretched buffet table, canvassing the spread for his desired target. He was hard-pressed to believe that ‘cheese bites’ would feature in the selection at all, with most of the foods seeming to be more to his brother's pretentious tastes. 

The fuck is Densuke Watermelon? Why am I here?

He was shuffled around repeatedly as other guests approached the table, humming appreciatively at the options. Elijah had clearly understated the numbers, with every inch of the expansive room densely packed with bodies. Having reached ‘sardines’ territory, Gavin concluded that it was far more pretension than he was willing to tolerate sober. 

Forgetting about food, he instead focused on the myriad of expensive-looking bottles lining the back of the table. He cared little about what they contained, with his only real consideration being which would get him drunk the quickest. That was when he noticed a shared detail. A single, harrowing digit which sought to sever what lingering threads remained of his optimism: 

0% 

Very clever, Eli, you smug bastard. 

He felt a firm tap on his shoulder - followed by a flat, monotonous voice which burrowed unwelcomely into his ear. “Ah, Gavin, it’s been a few months. How have you been?” 

Out of his peripherals, he spotted Walter Brown: A heavy-set man in his early fifties with a combover as sparse and flimsy as his charisma. If Gavin had a tenuous grasp on his own position in the company, he had even less of an idea about what Walter did. All he knew was that he attended almost every company event and had a knack for showing up at the most inopportune times. 

He turned to him, mouth stretched into a twisted parody of a grin, as his voice dripped with false sincerity. “Just peachy, Walt, what about you?”

The older man frowned at the nickname, which Gavin knew he disliked, before haughtily clearing his throat. “We've just secured the Stratford Cooperative as a client, so I'd say we're doing marvellous. I heard your team lost Parsons over a little blowout - such a shame.”

“Yeah, real pity,” the younger man hummed, picking at a piece of what he assumed was an extremely expensive watermelon - rolling it between his fingers and squashing it firmly. “So, how’s the wife doing? Still fucking her personal trainer?”

Elijah, who had been schmoozing his way around the table, made an audible sound of disconcertment upon hearing this. His head snapped round to face them, eyes bulged in disbelief. 

“Have you found the cheese bites yet, Gavin? They’re over here. Let me show you.” Flashing Walter an apologetic smile, he placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders before swiftly steering him away.

Once they had sufficiently distanced themselves, he leaned in close, speaking firmly into the younger man's ear: “Be nice.”

"You were the one who said I should stay”, Gavin hissed back. “I never promised I'd be nice.”

Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly exasperated. “I need to speak with Anderson quickly.” He gestured to a secluded area of the buffet, where a mostly ignored platter labelled 'Cheese Bites' was placed. “Just grab a plate and relax. When I return, we can discuss the restructure.”

"I already told you, dipshit, I'm not coming -" His brother hurried off before he could say anything else, leaving the sentence to hang in the air. 

Left with only the solace of breaded cheese, he grabbed the entire platter, not bothering with a plate. Sitting down on a nearby chair, he prepared himself to indulge. As the first bite touched his lips, a sudden noise startled him, causing it to slip from his fingers and tumble onto the floor. Gavin could feel his agitation simmer, bubbling under his skin, as he zoned in on the source of the noise. 

A group of well-dressed men stood nearby, exchanging a series of mundane anecdotes. Everything about their presence seemed to exude an inflated sense of importance, and as Gavin continued to eavesdrop, his face contorted into a grimace. 

The group, amused by a particularly uninspired joke, erupted into a fit of laughter. Unable to resist the temptation, he mockingly joined in, barking out a sharp cackle and throwing his head back in an exaggerated show of amusement.

Caught off guard by this, one of the men turned to him with an expectant smile before innocently inquiring, "What do you think?"

Gavin hummed in faux deliberation before shedding the pleasant facade almost as quickly as he'd adopted it. 

"I need a piss. That's what I think.” 

He stood from his chair, platter in hand, and hastily stomped away, leaving the men to exchange a series of perplexed glances. Manoeuvring his way through the crowds, he sought out a room that was less densely occupied - stuffing cheese bites into his mouth as he did so, leaving a trail of crumbs. 

This can't get any worse.

Turning a corner, he collided face-first with the chest of an unknown figure. The platter smashed against them, crushing much of the food and leaving an oily stain on their expensive-looking shirt. 

“...Hello, Gavin. I didn't think you'd be here”, a voice calmly addressed him. 

Never mind. It just got worse.

He blinked up at his ex-partner as dribbles of cheese oozed down his chin, unable to be contained by his outstretched jaw. Nolan looked back at him, grey eyes narrowed in scrutiny but expression otherwise unreadable. 

Despite the now prominent stain on his shirt, he looked incredible - dark hair slicked back, showcasing the full expanse of his sharp jawline and freckled skin. Gavin felt his stomach twist in a confusing mix of want and envy as he attempted to rudely side-step him.

“Out of my way,” he demanded harshly, spraying more crumbs from his mouth as he did so. 

Nolan refused to budge, unfazed by the frosty reception. “How are you doing? It's been…”. He paused momentarily, seemingly torn between tact and honesty. “...strange not having you at the office.”

“Funny way of saying ‘relaxing.’” Gavin darted to the side again, but the other man mirrored his movement, blocking his path. 

“You left your succulents on our desk. The rest of them, that is.”

Suppressing the biting laugh that threatened to erupt from his lips, he chose not to respond, rolling his eyes in feigned disinterest. 

"They're still in my car. I could get them for you.”

Having cleared his mouth, he wasted no time in slipping another bite between his lips. He made a point of flapping his jaw as he chewed, gnashing his teeth in uncomfortable proximity to the other man's ear. “Fucking keep ‘em. Like I care.”

Nolan shuddered, but only subtly, before quickly composing himself. “Yes, well, I know you didn't like them much anyway. They hardly ever got watered.”

“I did water them”, Gavin corrected, scowling. “It's not my fault that the internet lied when they said they were easy to take care of.”

“They tend to live longer when they aren't being launched at someone's head”, Nolan dryly replied.

“You asked for it.”

In a clear attempt to shift the conversation, Nolan breezed past the remark. He straightened his back, as he always did when trying to maintain an air of professionalism. “So, what have you been doing since you left?”

“Jacking off and watching reruns of Criminal Minds. I like to switch up the order. Keep it fresh.”

Just then, one of their co-workers approached from behind Nolan, allowing for a fleeting respite in the tense conversation. She clapped her hand on his shoulder and beamed at him pleasantly. “Congratulations on the promotion. We're going to love having you on our team.”

As she happily trotted away, Gavin glared after her before staring back at his ex accusingly. “Oh, I see. So that's what Eli meant when he said there'd been a ‘restructure’”

The other man deflated a bit, his tightly held shoulders stooped in vexation. “The project is struggling, and I'm one of his most senior consultants. It's only natural that I -”

“Save it”, Gavin interrupted, holding out a hand. He popped another bite into his mouth, humming loudly in appreciation, as the cheese oozed itself across his intentionally exposed tongue. “Anyone else would have been punished for the Parsons fuck up. So have you been screwing my brother for long, or is that more of a recent development?”

“I would say that the Parsons ‘fuck up’ was more of a shared effort. You were the one who turned the office into a war zone.”

“I threw one plant, and it missed you. Get over it.” 

From the corner of his eye, Gavin spotted someone attempting to encroach on his platter. He swiftly yanked it away, snarling fiercely to establish his claim. Despite this, as he moved to grab another bite, he hesitated, his stomach beginning to churn.

“You know what? Looking at your face for this long, I think I've lost my appetite.”

The juvenile remark threatened to crack Nolan's composure. His jaw clenched uncomfortably as the corner of his lip twitched in frustration. “Scathing. I don't know how I'll ever recover from such a cutting insult.”

“Just leave me alone, you smug asshole.” Unwilling to engage with his ex for a moment longer, Gavin finally set down the platter - before angrily storming past, clocking the other man's shoulder as he did so. 

He continued to a nearby hallway, heading towards a flight of stairs, cussing the entire time. He was suddenly accosted by Elijah, who parted his way through the sea of confused-looking onlookers. “Gavin, did you want to talk about -”

“No.”

The words died on his brother's tongue. With consideration for the people who were staring, he calmly readjusted his approach. “If you're going to have a smoke, please remember to -”

“Eat a dick.”

He stormed up the staircase and weaved this way through the many corridors. The murmurs of voices and clinking of glasses became fainter the longer he persisted until they were no longer audible. Turning his way into his brother's recreation room, he ignored the overtly opulent furnishings and focused instead on the attached balcony.

Stepping onto the iron grate, he felt the tension in his body ease. He leaned against the railing, looking down at the expansive driveway and the army of SUVs and flashy sports cars. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He placed one of them into his mouth before lighting up.

After taking a long, comforting drag, he continued to survey the vehicles before a familiar flash of cobalt blue caught his eye. He wondered how much damage he could do to Nolan's car if he were to haul one of Elijah's chairs over the guardrail. 

Indulging in the fantasy, he closed his eyes and attempted to regain some semblance of calm. His moment of peace was short-lived as a shuffle of footsteps approached from behind.

“I thought you quit.”

With a frustrated grumble, Gavin took another drag before turning his head to glare daggers at the unwelcome intruder. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ did you not understand?”

Nolan coolly ignored him, stepping onto the metal grate, careful not to slip on the ice. “You were doing so well. I thought you might actually kick the habit.”

“What do you care?”

“Smoking is disgusting. It smells terrible, stains your teeth - and it is toxic not only for you but everyone you associate with.” 

“Spare me the lecture, Mom”, Gavin retorted, taking a deliberately long drag and blowing in his direction. “If it's so disgusting, why don't you fuck off and leave me to it?” 

Closing his eyes to guard from the smoke, Nolan took a long, steadying breath. With purposeful strides, he advanced, his steely eyes darkening. While his former partner had always displayed remarkable emotional control, Gavin could sense a quiet intensity that was threatening to boil over. 

Attempting to step back, he found himself cornered as his ex-partner loomed menacingly. To conceal his unease, he puffed out his chest and lifted his chin in a show of bravado. 

What the hell is he doing?

In a swift motion, Nolan plucked the cigarette from his mouth and placed it between his own lips. He drew a long, measured drag before exhaling the smoke into Gavin's face.

He felt his breath hitch as the dense veil obscured his vision. Through the haze, he could see Nolan's stern expression beginning to shift. There was a twinkle of intrigue in his eyes, accompanied by a satisfied smirk. He lifted the cigarette into the air and, in one final act of dominance, flicked it over the balcony. 

Gavin reeled as his mind raced with conflicting impulses, as a rogue twitch of interest flagged in his jeans. Fuck, that was hot. Why was that hot? 

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Nolan hissed, narrowing the gap between them. "The most infuriating man I have ever met.”

“Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” he challenged. “Shove me off the balcony?” 

A hand fisted into his hair before harshly wrenching back. Any lingering resistance swiftly deserted him as Gavin felt his body surge with a powerful wave of excitement. 

“No, I'd rather keep you up here so I can teach you some manners.”

“Fuck you, Nolan…” he spat back weakly, inciting a chuckle from the other man.

“Only if you beg,” he purred, beginning to trail kisses along the expanse of his neck. "And trust me, you will.”

The kisses trailed upwards until they were dancing across the shell of his ear, interspersed with harsh nips. Gavin made a small, almost whimpering sound as his face flushed with embarrassment. The other man chuckled, low and throaty, before whispering a hushed command. 

“Get on your knees.”

Before he had a chance to respond, he was being pushed downwards until he was positioned with his face inches from Nolan's zipper. He gulped back a needy breath as he greedily eyed the bulge, a rush of adrenaline leaving him numb to the icy chill of the grate. 

Without much further consideration, Gavin unfastened the pants, pulling them down, before moving on to the exposed set of boxers. Nolan gasped as a cool rush of air struck his arousal. It only lasted a moment as a tight heat quickly engulfed it.

Gavin rolled his tongue across the tip of his length before bringing it further into his mouth, bottoming out as it reached his throat. The man above him growled as he deftly picked up the pace, hollowing out his cheeks. 

“Just look at you, so needy.” Nolan tightened his hold on his head, leaning back against the balcony for much-needed support. “Anyone could see us out here. So desperate for me that you don't even care.”

Gavin responded to the suggestion with a pointed raise of his middle finger before resuming his movements, humming against the hardness in a way he knew drove him insane. Nolan's eyes swiftly rolled into the back of his head, lips parted in a ragged groan. 

Then Gavin pulled away, catching the sensitive flesh with an intentional graze of his teeth. The other man hissed in pain before glaring down in accusation. 

“Why do you always have to make things difficult?” His hoarse voice rumbled, hand clenching Gavin's hair with near excruciating force. “If you're good, you'll get what you want - Now open your mouth. Wider.”

As he allowed his jaw to slacken, he felt Nolan's hips bucked forward with unyielding force. It wasn't long until he had established a pace of hard, relentless thrusts. Gavin gagged and choked around the intrusion as a raw pain burned his throat. 

The hardened flesh twitched in his mouth as the movements became increasingly erratic, signalling that the other man was nearing release. He braced himself, knowing he was unlikely to receive any warning when the length was pulled from his mouth - leaving its seal with a sinful pop. 

“As much as I'm sure you're enjoying yourself”, Nolan began, his voice thick with desire. “It’s getting a little cold. Let's move this inside.”

Pulling up from his knees, Gavin followed him into the recreation room, eagerly speculating on what else he might have planned for them. The answer came in the form of hands gripping his hips as they firmly pulled forward - leading their bodies to roll together in smooth, fluid motions. Then, he was being pushed away with the same intense force he had been used to hold him close. 

“Strip.”

Spurred by unbridled want, Gavin complied with the command. He rid himself of his clothes, allowing them to gather in a crumpled heap around his feet. As he stood in the centre of the room, exposed, Nolan raked him up and down, emitting a satisfied hum. He tilted his head towards a nearby pool table, the action speaking for itself. Nevertheless, he made his desires clear:

“Bend over it. Now.” 

Gavin once again followed the instructions, knees weak as he stumbled over - before positioning himself at the end of the table. Nolan draped over his back and pressed a set of fingers forcefully against his lips. “Open your mouth.”

The digits slipped past his eagerly parting lips as Gavin caressed them with his tongue, thoroughly coating them. Nolan pulled his hand away and - with torturous slowness - ran it down the expanse of his back before settling against his entrance. Without warning, he entered him - fingers curling into the heat as the other man arched back, keening in appreciation.

He worked him open, scissoring his fingers as he pushed himself deeper into his body. His wandering digits struck against a tight bundle of nerves, and Gavin made a loud, strangled noise - succumbing to an intense wave of pleasure.

Nolan continued to tease, pumping in and out, as the other man rolled back, fucking himself against his fingers. A tight warmth coiled in his stomach as the swell of his arousal pressed firmly against the edge of the table. 

“Holy shit”, he whispered, eyes bulging wide in surprise. “Fuck, Nole, I think I'm gonna -”

The other man abruptly pulled out, earning a loud growl of protest from the disgruntled man beneath him. Oh, you fucking asshole.

His frustration was short-lived, however, as Nolan readjusted his position, pressing himself firmly against his entrance. Each drawn-out second seemed to stretch for an eternity as Gavin shuddered in anticipation, gripping the edge of the table. 

Then, the movements stilled before the pressure slowly began to recede. Excitement dwindled into impatience as he glanced over his shoulder, glaring accusingly. “The fuck are you doing back there? Having a stroke?”

A teasing pressure was placed against the willing body as a stern demand was growled into his ear. “Beg.”

“You can't be serious”, Gavin complained. As he strained to glance further behind him, the other man seized his jaw and firmly wrenched him back. With a vice-like grip, he was shoved down and propelled face-first into the table.

“I'm very serious”, Nolan informed. “Either you do as you're told, and I fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow - or I leave you here. Desperate and needy, without any sort of release.”

A steady force resisted any attempts Gavin made to pull himself up, and realising that he had been bested, he grumbled back in defeat. “...Fine. Please.”

“Please, what?”

There was a moment of hesitance before he conceded, abandoning what little remained of his dignity. “Please fuck me.”

Nolan hummed in approval as he rewarded his compliance with a return to his original position. “Was that really so difficult?” 

Then, he was stretching him open - slowly and methodically - until every inch had buried itself inside his eager warmth. Gavin groaned at the fullness as the other man responded in kind with a testing jerk forward. 

He repeated the motion several times until the tip of his length brushed against the same bundle of nerves he had previously sought with his fingers. Gavin’s toes curled as his lips parted, begging for more. “Fuck, right there. Keep going.”

“Tell me how good it feels”, Nolan demanded, leaning down and - with deft accuracy - striking the same point again. Harder.

Gavin could feel himself unravelling, a sheen of sweat gathering on his skin as his breath escaped in short, laboured pants. He hated how desperate Nolan made him. Knowing exactly what he wanted but holding back just enough to drive him crazy. “It feels so fucking good.”

Nolan appeared satisfied by this response - as from this point onward, he did not hold back. There was no time wasted in building the pace, as his movements became relentless and forceful, unapologetic in their intensity. Fingers dug into his hips with bruising strength as each harsh thrust propelled Gavin further into the table. 

He trembled under the force, his arms outstretched above his head, as splayed fingers clawing desperately against the slate. Long, needy moans rumbled their way out of his throat as the man behind him responded with small huffs of satisfaction. Each noise Nolan made shot straight to his cock, which pleaded for attention against the edge of the hard plastic rail. 

“Fucking touch me…”

The pace began to slow, and it didn't take Gavin long to realise his mistake. A large hand reached down and gripped the front of his neck - before long fingers spread out, forming a cage of pressure. 

“I would think you would have learned by now that you will get nothing from making demands.” His voice was firm and domineering as his hold on the other man's neck began to tighten.“Or perhaps you want to be punished.”

Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes as Gavin’s vision filled with patches of white. He tried to respond, but the only sound he could muster was a strangled whine. Nolan gradually slackened his grip, and he felt his chest burn with the rush of oxygen that filled his lungs. 

“Tell me how desperate you are.” A hand left his hip before snaking its way around his waist,  lightly brushing the tip of his aching erection. “Then maybe I'll consider touching you.”

Gavin held his throat, coughing and spluttering as he did so. “Please touch me. I need it - need you.” His obedience was rewarded as he felt the hand wrap itself around his arousal, trapping it in a tight fist - before beginning to tease him in long, rhythmic motions. 

The strokes became faster and more forceful, matched by the weight of Nolan's thrusts. With every sinful movement, he pushed against him - shamelessly seeking more. He was unable to see sense through his dense haze of lust, becoming a slave to his own desperation.

“I've missed this”, Nolan gasped, his words trailing out like wisps of smoke, becoming lost amidst the storm of steady thumps and fervent groans. “Missed you.”

Gavin wasn't given much time to consider this, as he felt the pressure build in his stomach. “I'm gonna come”, he moaned as Nolan leaned further forward until his chest was flush against his back.

He nibbled on the lobe of his ear before exhaling a heated breath into the sensitive canal. “Then do it. Come for me.”

With a final, measured stroke, the pressure spilt over. It flowed in trails down his cock, onto Nolan's hand as he screamed out his name in a long, broken cry. The other man followed suit, his movements becoming increasingly frenzied - until a long, shuddering breath tumbled from his lips. Gavin could feel the wave of heat as it slowly filled him before dripping out between his thighs. 

Nolan allowed his weight to drop, the disordered rise and fall of his chest echoing through Gavin's back. His face was burrowed into his hair, warm air fanning through it with every shuddered gasp.

Eventually, he pried himself away, allowing Gavin the opportunity to twist himself around. He watched as Nolan lifted his boxers and hurriedly zipped his jeans, his demeanour snapping back to impassive neutrality with unsettling ease. 

As the high of his orgasm subsided, Gavin cursed how willingly he had surrendered to him - sacrificing his convictions for the sake of a few fleeting minutes of pleasure. He also stood up, gathering his clothes, before levelling an accusation at Nolan. Hoping to make him feel a measure of the loathsome frailty he was experiencing:

“I'm guessing this is why you followed me.” The words were hissed through gritted teeth, bared in a vicious snarl. “Well, congratulations, dipshit. You got what you wanted.”

“This isn't what I wanted at all”. The response was swift, laden with protest. A far departure from the muted discomfort that Gavin had been anticipating. As his ex-partner finally turned around, his usually intense eyes had softened significantly, brimming with remorse. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Don't know if you've realised, but you can actually do that without fucking the other person.”

Nolan winced before his head dipped. “I'm sorry. I have no excuse - I couldn't help myself.” All of his usual confidence was absent, replaced by a meek uncertainty, as his voice barely rose above a whisper. “I can't stop thinking about you - all the things I could have done differently.”

“It's a bit late for that.”

“Does it have to be?” While there was an element of his usual assertion returning, a vulnerability lingered. “Maybe we aren't good for each other, the way we are now, but maybe we could try to be…different. Better.”

As the sentiment of the words began to sink in, Gavin was left entirely stunned. The toxicity of their relationship had always been something they'd quite happily embraced. It had kept things dynamic - exciting - until the novelty had been exhausted. Entertaining the idea of a future beyond this seemed utterly absurd. 

Yet something about the sincerity of Nolan's words, the unapologetic rawness of his voice, compelled him to reconsider. If only for a moment. 

“...There's this new slasher coming out in a few days”, Gavin grunted, pressing forward before he had a chance to change his mind. “ Yuletide Fright.”

Nolan hummed thoughtfully, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “I remember you saying you were looking forward to it…”

“Yeah, well, we can go and see it together. If you want.” He paused momentarily before quickly adding, “- but you're paying.”

There was a hopeful intrigue in Nolan's bright eyes as he nodded again with greater exuberance. “Okay, that sounds good”, he agreed, smiling softly as he did so.

“On one condition”, Gavin stipulated. “You need to promise that you won't fuck my brother. Chloe will be crushed if you do - and if I lose out on my cheese bites next year, I'll never forgive you.”

[themadcapmathematician]

Let me put it another way: in the US, the maximum SNAP pay out is $281 a month.* In many states in the US, a one way ticket on the bus costs somewhere between $1.25-3. If someone makes a grocery run twice a week, nothing else, just goes out and gets groceries and uses the bus system, it costs somewhere between $20-48 a month just to get groceries. That's assuming no transfers, no other errands that might take more tickets, nothing else.

It doesn't even factor in that the average person who uses public transportation must spend nearly twice as long to get somewhere as someone who drives does, or that the way the SNAP payments are calculated assumes people will spend 14 hours a week preparing food if they want nutritious meals. It doesn't factor in that using the bus system restricts the amount of groceries you can buy at a time, or that many people on SNAP and who take public transit are disabled, single working parents, the elderly. It doesn't cover the human cost here, just the financial one

If youre poor enough to receive the maximum SNAP pay out (which, i can't stress enough, is incredibly stringent and most people don't qualify for), and have to use public transit to go grocery shopping, it costs around 7-17% of your monthly grocery budget to just get the groceries in the first place. Public transit fares are a poor tax

(*excluding Alaska, Hawaii, Guam, and the Virgin Islands, where the maximum is between $356 and $545, though transportation and food prices in those locations are also often severely inflated)

[rabbitcruiser]

National Wienerschnitzel Day

Make your own deceptively simple Wiener Schnitzel out of pork or veal to add a delicious and wholesome new meal to your repertoire that dates back centuries.

Wiener Schnitzel is a delicious treat that is much beloved by Austria and other countries in that region. It is, in fact, one of the premier examples of Viennese cuisine and has served as the backbone of many a native’s childhood diet.

Wiener Schnitzel Day celebrates this meal, its culture and its history.

History of Wiener Schnitzel Day

A breaded cutlet that is deep-fried in oil, Wiener Schnitzel is traditionally made from veal, but also can be made from pork. In Australia, it might even be found made out of chicken or beef.

This dish is actually named after the city where it was invented, as “Wien” is the way Vienna is written in German.

Wiener Schnitzel was first mentioned in 1831 in a cookbook where it was called eingebröselte Kalbsschnitzchen, and would find its way to Vienna in 1857. The dish continued to appear throughout the region, and one comment from 1887 said that it was “a gastronomic dream”, though the dish he describes is decidedly a complex affair, including slices of lemon peel, sardines, gherkins, capers, and an unknown array of other spices.

Today’s version of Wiener Schnitzel is also known by other names around the world. In the Midwest of the United States, it’s known as a “pork tenderloin” and is typically served on a bun as a sandwich. In Latin American, the dish is known as “Milanesa”, and in Czech Republic, it is called “Řízek”.

Wiener Schnitzel Day celebrates this dish and its place in that history!

How to Celebrate Wiener Schnitzel Day

Enjoy the celebration of Wiener Schnitzel Day with these types of fun activities:

Learn Some Fun Facts About Wiener Schnitzel

Impress friends, family members and coworkers by sharing interesting facts and tidbits about the guest of honor on Wiener Schnitzel day:

Wiener Schnitzel is tenderized through the use of pounding on it to make it thinner and more comfortable to eat.

An American fast food chain named ‘Wienerschnitzel’ was founded in 1961. Strangely enough, they started by selling hot dogs, but have since expanded into other menu items. They’re located in at least 10 states and also in Guam.

In Finland, Wiener Schnitzel is called “Wieninleike” and is always made of pork. It became particularly popular toward the end of World War II. Here, it is typically served with mashed potatoes or french fries.

Garnishes for this food vary significantly based on the place where it is served. It may range from a simple lemon wedge to butter, from parsley to potato, from anchovy slices to capers and horseradish.

Visit Vienna for Traditional Wiener Schnitzel

A trip to Vienna is just the thing for experiencing the most authentic and tastiest Wiener Schnitzel found all over the globe. Enjoy visiting the palace where the Habsburg royal family would spend their summers, or view museums that house works of art by famous artists such as Gustav Klimt, Albrecht Dürer, or Hieronymus Bosch.

From the US, hopping on a flight to Austria can be fairly quick and easy, as Trans-Atlantic flights go. With several airlines that have direct flights from a few different American cities, a trip to Vienna can be made in around 8-9 hours from the east coast.

For enjoying the best of Vienna’s culinary delights, almost any traditional restaurant will serve a delicious schnitzel that’s probably bigger than your head! Squeeze a bit of lemon juice on that tender breaded meat and enjoy some potato salad on the side.

In between delicious meals, don’t forget to visit Vienna’s best attractions, including the Schönbrunn Palace, St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the Hofburg Palace and Museum. And, of course, after meals, visiting a Viennese cafe for a delightful cup of Viennese coffee is the perfect treat.

Source

[chanoyu-to-wa]

A Brief Update (7/7).

Dear Followers and Readers,

It has been horribly, horribly hot here the past week or so. So much so that every attempt to pack boxes left me gasping for breath after 15 or 20 minutes. As a result, I have been focusing my efforts on the translations, since that at least allowed me to work in an air conditioned room. Even when some of the material in the translations seems to have been discussed before, I generally produce a new translation, from the sources, on each occasion (not only in the interests of including new material -- which was certainly the case with this morning's post -- but because it is almost impossible for me to search out posts that were made years ago, since my eyes have not been working well enough to make that an efficient process: it is easier to produce a new translation than to try to scan through 12 years of posts, which could potentially take several days). I hope that the new information -- including the formulae of all of the six traditional varieties of neri-kō -- will be of interest.

The other day I heard from Elmar, who informed me that none of the 15 or 20 people who have recently started following this blog has seen fit to contribute toward its support. In the aftermath of the many new expenses that I have been facing recently, I had only $100 for food when the month of July started (which makes things difficult when food costs more than $7/day, even if one is trying to subsist on little more than instant noodles). And, of course, the necessity to run the air conditioner almost constantly this past week, will shoot the July electricity bill through the roof.

I understand that many people do not have much extra money these days -- and that there are probably many more exciting possibilities for disbursing that money than donating it to this blog. So it seems necessary to say that I am going to be forced to stop posting unless this situation changes. I could easily take a bus to a mall or department store, and sit there during the hottest hours of the day, but that would mean I would be unable to do any work on this blog (I obviously can not afford to add the $40/month expense of a wi-fi account to my already overwhelming burden of expenses, and it is impossible to do any work when I am separated from the books and other resources that are needed from time to time -- when I had to stay in Guam for more than two weeks three years ago, I ended up having to take a large suitcase full of books and papers to support the work on this blog that I was going to undertake while there).

The heat has been so bad that the router that allowed me to use my telephone (an internet phone) and laptop in addition to this PC burned out a couple of weeks ago; and in order to get that working again I was informed that I would have to pay for a new modem, plus pay the technician to come here and literally plug it in (this kind of modem is only provided by the telecom company, at a cost of $35 for the modem plus $35 "installation fee" -- and, no, the customer is not allowed to just plug it in by themself). So the issues just continue to pile up, and are, once again, making it harder and harder for me to continue. I try to save money by not running the air conditioner at night, only to wake up gasping whenever the heat in my room becomes too much, so I am forced to run it for 10 or 15 minutes. The lack of sleep that results is, of course, having an impact on my mental acuity, further limiting the time I can spend productively during the day.

And that, being enough complaining, is where I guess I will end this. My thanks to the few people who do continue to support this work. But given the pressures of inflation (whenever demand is high, the utilities now raise the rates, and they never come back down again, so I am sure that will just make the upcoming electric bill just that much higher), their generosity alone is no longer going to be enough to keep this ship afloat....

Thank you all for your time.

Sincerely yours,

Daniel M. Burkus daniel_burkus@yahoo.com

Donations: https://paypal.me/chanoyutowa

[fieriframes]

[And they've got one named after both the airport and the area code that's getting its Guam on. It's the only place that has Guamanian food that I know of. SABLAN: Fried shrimp fritters. Done. The shrimp fritters are very unique.]

[whyeverr]

Cherry has kindly agreed to help, despite the cruelly early start time—though unfortunately, “cook together with” has proven to be janky even at the best of times, so it’s mostly just a lot of backseat driving. Given the amount of recipe and ingredient improvisation required, this may not be a bad thing...

“Hang on, you’re boiling them? Aren’t you supposed to steam tamales?”

“Look, I’ve had to make a lot of modifications... They’re more like, I don’t know, tamal-ish.”

So I went down the custom food rabbit hole... I started off by looking for mooncakes (and found them!) and then started looking for any other culturally-specific dishes I could incorporate into this save. 

And, wouldn’t you know it, I was also able to find tamales—which seemed perfect because Christmas would fall sometime during this week (no one knows exactly what day it is these days), and it’s Tyler’s rotation and of course he would want to make tamales for everyone!

But then... I don’t know if I just wasn’t looking closely at the scale of things in the preview image, or if I am just blindly ignorant to how custom food usually looks. But oh. my god. The tamales.

They’re... huge. And are both served and individually plated on very fancy decorative dishes.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re lovely, they just... don’t quite fit in the setting of a community of survivors scraping by in the post-apocalypse...? Food is still looking a bit rustic here, either homegrown or carefully extracted from a dusty package found on a well-picked-over shelf.

So... Enter the hallaca: a tamal-adjacent Venezuelan dish miraculously already in the game. They’re also traditionally served at Christmas, but instead of corn husks, they’re wrapped in plantain leaves (which, hey! we actually already grow). There are some notable (and quite tasty-sounding!) differences in what’s included in the filling—but for our purposes, regardless of what they’re wrapped in or what should traditionally be included, the filling is mushrooms and vegetables. 

To finish this D+ report with some fun facts, both dishes (and the many, many other varieties available throughout Central and South America, the Carribbean, the Philippines, and Guam) all originate from the same indigenous Mesoamerican cultures (which totally makes sense but didn’t necessarily occur to me), dating back to as early as 8000 to 5000 BCE. Aaaaand apparently tamales are believed to predate ceramic technology and therefore the tortilla, which is pretty fucking wild to consider.