#i have been thinking about opening maybe 2-3 slots again to test the waters......... but i worry no one would be interested anymore nowaday
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kandismon · 11 months ago
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This is gonna sound dumb and I tried to look around and it looks like the link is busted, but.. Do you still do commissions and if so, how much do they run? Also, I love your art 💜💜
heya anon!
that doesn't sound dumb at all, thank you for asking!
however, i'm currently not doing commissions due to lack of time, sorry ; -;)
and thank you, i'm glad you like my art! 💜
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lollypopsx · 3 years ago
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Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2
Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x
Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety
Part 1 - Part 3
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Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.
You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.
Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.
"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.
You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.
"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.
Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.
"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.
"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.
"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.
Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.
You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.
"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.
"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.
"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.
"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.
"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.
"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.
"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"
"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.
"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.
"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."
"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"
"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.
"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.
—————————
“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.
“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 
“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 
You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.
“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.
“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.
“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.
You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...” 
Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 
You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”
 “You mean our song...” He whispers.
“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.
“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?
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Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino
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thistreasurehunter · 4 years ago
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Something New
A/N: Set in the After the Rain timeline (1 - After the Rain; 2 - Testing the Waters; 3 - Reflection; 4 - Comes the Rainbow; 5 - And So the Wind Blows; 6 - And Blows Again; 7 - Something New). All characters are aged 18+.
Summary: Pope wants to experiment. Or: The One With the Rimming
Requested: Yes, by multiple anons.
Genre: Smut (with a side helping of fluff)
Word length: 3.9k
Warning: Adult content – including explicit descriptions of an M/M sexual relationship. (Over 18s only please.)
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Outer Banks characters or settings.
**************************************************************
It was the weekend. JJ and Pope had spent the day hanging out with John B and Kie. They’d taken the HMS Pogue out in the morning, done a bit of fishing, then returned to The Chateau to chill. They lazed in the hammocks and cooked up the fish they’d caught that morning in the fire-pit; laughing and joking over cold drinks and fresh, grilled fish.
Late in the afternoon, Kie left to go help her dad prepare for the evening rush at The Wreck. The other three stayed where they were, caught up in a game JJ had come up with that involved passing random objects between them without letting them touch the floor, using only their feet.
They’d been passing Pope’s snapback between them for a solid twenty minutes when John B’s phone pinged and he missed the pass from JJ, letting the hat fall to the floor.
“Dude!” JJ exclaimed, hands raised.
John B shrugged and checked his phone.
“It’s Sarah inviting me over,” he said. “She’s got the house to herself.”
“Booty call,” JJ grinned. “Sounds like you’re in there, mate.”
John B grimaced back. “You know, I’m not even sure. To be quite honest, things have felt a little off between us recently. I can’t quite put my finger on it. She just seems a little… distant, I suppose. She’s been hanging out with Kie a lot. So, yeah, who knows what it means.”
“Women. Just so complicated, man,” JJ let out a sigh of mock exasperation. “Yeah, tits are nice and everything, but cock is far superior. You should just level up and find yourself a nice guy to date instead.” He winked at Pope. “Just not this one, ‘cos he’s taken.”
Pope grinned, rolling his eyes.
“Guys!” John B shook his head frowning.
“Oh, quit whining,” Pope chuckled. “We all know you ship us hard.”
“So hard,” JJ added. “So, very, very hard. As hard as we make each other.”
“Oh, dear god!” John B cringed, covering his ears with his hands. “Mental images! Forcing their way into my brain. Cannot un-think!”
JJ and Pope both laughed.
“Well, on that note, I’m off.” John B patted himself down looking for the keys to the van and started towards the door. “You kids stay safe now. And for God’s sake, don’t cum on anything, please!”
“Don’t worry,” JJ called after him. “We swallow.”
“NOT LISTENING!” John B called back, hands over his ears again as he left, the front door clicking shut behind him.
JJ caught Pope’s eye and Pope raised an eyebrow and asked simply, “So, shall we?”
And JJ barked a laugh. “Hell, yes!” he said, pulling Pope to his feet.
They stumbled towards the spare room, which by this point had basically become JJ’s room, laughing and kissing and fumbling, hands pulling off clothes and blindly knocking into furniture in their haste.
“John B’s really going to appreciate the trail of discarded clothing leading to your room,” Pope smiled, glancing over JJ’s shoulder.
“Don’t care,” JJ breathed, his lips pressing kisses along Pope’s jaw. He took the lobe of Pope’s ear into his mouth and sucked. Pope shivered and JJ grinned, grazing his teeth along the flesh.
The door was barely shut behind them before JJ was sinking to his knees in front of Pope, hands scrambling to unbuckle his shorts.
Pope rested his head back against the door and allowed JJ to pull his shorts and boxers down, but before Pope had chance to step out of them, JJ was leaning forwards eagerly and taking Pope into his mouth.
Pope groaned, long and low, both his hands going to JJ’s head, fingers carding through the hair, fingernails raking slowly and seductively along the scalp. He then tugged gently, in just the way he knew JJ loved and JJ hummed in delight. The vibrations sent a wave of pleasure through Pope and he sighed out JJ’s name. JJ hummed again, then started sucking and bobbing his head in earnest, his hands steadying Pope’s hips.
Pope closed his eyes and let the feelings overtake him. JJ was setting a delicious rhythm, with just the right level of suction. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect. Pope could feel JJ breathe out as he relaxed his throat and took Pope down deeper.
“Oh, JJ…” Pope moaned, gently tugging on his hair again. “That’s so good.”
JJ hummed again and, fighting the impulse to gag, took him down ever further.
“Oh, yes!” Pope sighed. “Your mouth feels so good, babe.” The praises spilled off his lips, “Oh, you’re so good at that. It feels amazing. You’re amazing.” Pope could feel the pressure building, the knot tightening. JJ kept bobbing and sucking. “Oh yes, there, like that. JJ! Oh yes, yes.” He twitched his hips slightly and JJ squeezed his fingers, signalling that Pope could thrust forwards. Pope let out a strangled little sound and – ever so gently – started fucking JJ’s mouth. JJ moaned, his pupil’s blown and his chin wet. Pope could feel himself tensing, his pleasure cresting. “J!” he choked out.
JJ pulled back and off with a wet pop, a line of saliva still connecting them. He began fisting Pope’s length and opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue and rested Pope’s tip on the wet, pink muscle. He looked up: open and willing and eager. Ready to be claimed, though Pope.
Eyelids heavy and eyes dark with lust, JJ gazed up at Pope through his lashes. And staring down into JJ’s eyes, Pope’s pleasure crested and his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal surge. He came undone; pulsing and releasing, thick creamy ropes of cum landing over JJ’s tongue and his lips and his chin and his cheek. JJ closed his eyes and took it, hand still working Pope’s shaft, helping him ride out his high. And Pope just kept cumming, all over his boyfriend’s face and tongue and a bit in his hair. And it felt so dirty, but also so brilliant. And his brain thrummed: mine, mine, mine…
Pope’s cock gave a final weak pulse and JJ licked the small trickle of cum off the tip.
Pope looked down and blushed at the sight of JJ on his knees before him, his cheeks flushed, chin wet, face splattered with cum and his hair sticking up wildly from where Pope had been gripping the silky blond strands.
“Oh, J” he whispered reverently. And JJ smiled and kissed the tip one last time before getting to his feet.
Pope’s thumb came up to JJ’s bottom lip and smeared a spot of cum across the skin. JJ’s tongue came out to taste it, but Pope leaned forwards quickly and caught JJ’s lips in a kiss, tasting himself on JJ’s skin and in the slow slide of their lips and tongues.
“So, I guess we didn’t do what John B asked after all,” Pope smiled.
“Pretty sure he meant the sofa, or in the kitchen or something,” JJ grinned. “I don’t think it counts if the thing you’re cumming on is me.” Pope groaned again. Then reached blindly, grabbed a tissue and lightly wiped the mess off JJ’s face. Then he brought their faces close until the tips of their noses were touching and brushed them together in an Eskimo kiss.
Pope stepped forwards, trying to walk JJ back to the bed but, forgetting about his shorts still pooled around his ankles, he almost overbalanced. JJ laughed and held his arms steady while Pope toed off his high tops and socks and stepped out of his shorts. JJ’s shorts had been abandoned somewhere on the trip from the hammocks to the bedroom.
Pope placed his hands on JJ’s immaculate chest and walked him back to the bed, pushing him down gently onto his back. JJ shuffled backwards, laying his head back on the pillow. He was toned and sun-golden and glorious, his erection a prominent bulge tenting his underwear. He’s gorgeous, Pope thought. Completely gorgeous and all mine. And a thrill ran through him.
Pope got onto the bed and pulled JJ’s underwear off. And then JJ was spread out before him, waiting: standing big and stiff and proud.
Pope crawled over JJ, propping himself up on his forearms so he could bring their lips together again. JJ sighed and ran one hand down Pope’s spine, resting the other on his backside and squeezing.
“Ass man,” Pope breathed into JJ’s mouth.
“Bite me,” JJ smiled back, and Pope caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nipped lightly. JJ groaned and pushed his hips up against Pope.
Pope grinned and rolled them over. He slotted his leg between JJ’s, presenting his thigh for JJ to ride. JJ propped himself up on his arms and pushed his hips down, grinding his erection into Pope’s thigh. He breathed out a sigh and leaned down to continue their kiss, his hips pressing forwards rhythmically. Pope pushed his tongue into JJ’s mouth and let the kiss get dirty, his hands kneading JJ’s ass cheeks as JJ humped his leg. The room was filled with the sound of JJ panting and grunting and the dull thunk of the headboard against the wall as JJ increased the pace and vigour of his thrusts.
“Look at you,” Pope breathed, eyeing JJ’s slack mouth and flushed cheeks. “So needy.”
“I wouldn’t be so needy,” JJ gritted out, “if you did something.”
“Oh, you want me to do something?” Pope teased.
“Yes,” JJ panted, a little frustrated and desperate to get off.
“Maybe you should ask nicely?”
JJ’s eyes went wide. For a heart stopping moment, Pope thought he might have gone too far, might have misread the vibe, might have killed the moment.
But then JJ flushed and whispered, “Yes, please.” Pope squeezed his ass cheeks and JJ whined and clamped his thighs around Pope’s leg, grinding his erection down harder. “Please,” he repeated in a small broken voice, “please do something to get me off.” He brought his lips to Pope’s ear, so close Pope could feel his lips moving, and murmured, “please, Sir…”
Pope swallowed hard. A rush of adrenaline, and also something else – something deeper and more primal – ran through him. He could feel the soft, warm weight of his partner, writhing and rutting against him. Needy and desperate. Needy, for him. Pope was suddenly overwhelmed by an instinctive, primal urge to give and please and provide. Mine, Pope thought again. He’s mine.
Pope hooked his leg around JJ’s and flipped them over again. He pressed one final searing kiss to JJ’s lips and then worked his way down JJ’s body, trailing kisses down his neck and chest, his tongue flicking over the hardened nub of a nipple, then kissed his way down the faint trail of fair hairs that started just below his navel and ended at the base of JJ’s cock. Pope could feel JJ breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. But rather than turning his attention to JJ’s erection. Pope dipped his head lower, and pressed kisses and teasing licks into the delicate skin surrounding JJ’s cock. He pressed his nose against JJ’s balls, nuzzling them slightly, then opened his mouth and sucked as much as he could into his mouth, applying delicious pressure and working the skin with his tongue. JJ whined above him. Pope repeated the action, then moved onto JJ’s other ball.
“Pope,” JJ panted. “Please.”
Pope smiled and rose onto his knees. His hands went to JJ’s hips. “Roll over,” he said.
“What?” JJ’s head came up, eyes slightly unfocussed.
“Roll over,” Pope repeated.
“Pope? What’re you…” JJ looked confused.
“I want to try something,” Pope smiled. “Something new. Something with my mouth. You’re not the only ass man in the room. Now turn over like a good boy.”
JJ’s eyes got wide again, but he obliged, rolling onto his front. Pope encouraged him to spread his legs and lift onto his knees and elbows. Pope sat back for a second and just took in the sight before him: his boyfriend bent over on his bed, flushed and hard and slightly bewildered, but presenting himself so beautifully for Pope. Pope licked his lips and smiled. He was going to enjoy this.
JJ’s head hung between his arms and he craned around to look at Pope admiring him and felt a spike of self-conscious embarrassment. He shifted and started to get up, “Pope, what’s… what’re you doing…?”
“Shhh,” Pope reassured, his hand rubbing soothing circles into JJ’s lower back and encouraging him back down. “It’s okay. I’m gonna make you feel so good. If you don’t like it though, just say and we can stop. But I just wanted to remember this moment.”
JJ narrowed his eyes slightly but relaxed back down.
Pope positioned himself between JJ’s legs and ran his hands over JJ’s ass cheeks, giving the right one a quick pat and squeeze. He leaned forwards and pressed a kiss into the middle of each. Then, using his thumbs, he spread the cheeks apart, revealing JJ’s pink, furled hole.
“Pope…?” He heard JJ choke out.
Pope blew a soft stream of warm air onto JJ’s little rosebud and watched as it clenched slightly.
Then, leaning forwards, he brought his face in close and slowly licked across JJ’s tight hole.
“Fuck!” He heard JJ exclaim.
Pope smiled and, tongue soft and wet and wide, he repeated the action.
“Oh, Pope! Oh, fuck!” JJ panted again.
Pope pointed his tongue and flicked it up and down, and left to right, brushing it quickly over the delicate skin. Pope could feel JJ’s hole fluttering under his tongue.
“Pope! Oh god, yes, oh yes!” JJ panted. He shifted his hips and repositioned his arm to take his weight and brought the other down to his cock, which was hanging thick and heavy and neglected between his legs. But before he could take hold of it, however, Pope caught his wrist and stopped him.
“Not yet,” he said. And his face was still so close to JJ’s most private area that JJ could feel the huff of air against his skin when Pope spoke.
JJ groaned, but brought his elbow back down to the bed, resigning himself to the sweet torture.
Pope put his tongue to work again and soon JJ was panting and sighing and pushing back against him, needy little whines escaping his throat.
Pope switched up the movement of his tongue from strong licks and fast little flicks, and instead covered JJ’s hole with his lips and sucked lightly.
JJ groaned under him, pushing back, his legs trembling. “Oh, fuuuuuck!” he whimpered.
Pope gave the furled hole another slow lick, then pointed his tongue and – ever so slowly – pushed it against JJ’s entrance. JJ’s breath hitched. At first JJ’s muscles resisted, but then as Pope wiggled his tongue slightly, he felt the tight ring of muscles begin to relax, allowing him to push his tongue in slightly. Pope pressed his tongue forwards in tight circular motions, then slowly pulled back and pressed in again, fucking JJ’s hole with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, fuck me!” JJ wailed. “Fuck, Pope. Yes! Oh, fuck I need to come!”
Pope could feel JJ trembling under his hands, the erratic twitch of his hips, the desperate, broken edge to his voice.
“Please, Pope,” he pleaded. “Please…”
And Pope, his face still buried in JJ’s ass, finally reached around and gripped his leaking erection and started pumping.
And JJ keened, caught between thrusting his painfully hard cock forward into Pope’s fist and pressing back into the delicious wet flicks of Pope’s tongue against his quivering hole. He was so desperately, painfully hard; the desire to cum so strong. And the feeling of Pope finally touching his rock-hard cock was toe-curlingly amazing. And Pope’s tongue, pressing and licking and sucking him – there – was beyond amazing. And for JJ, time seemed to be caught in one delicious, shining moment of wet, hot, hard, fast, urgent, pleasure, clenching, tensing… and then he was cumming. Hard.
Thick creamy ropes spurted onto the bed and over Pope’s fist and Pope could feel JJ’s hole twitching and clenching under his tongue, and JJ was moaning Pope’s name wildly, then breathlessly, then a little brokenly as his trembling legs gave way and he collapsed onto the bed.
Pope lay down next to him and ran his fingers through JJ’s hair, studying his face, his closed eyes and blissed out expression.
JJ opened his eyes and looked at Pope.
“Pope,” he whispered. Pope smiled.
“Pope,” JJ tried again, “That was just so… thank you. Just, wow! Like really. I’ve never felt anything like that before. It was just,” he screwed up his face, trying to find the right words and failing, ending instead on just a low grunt of consonants. “Nngggh,” he finished.
Pope smiled, eyes fond and affectionate. “Well if I’ve rendered you speechless, I guess it must have been good,” he teased lightly. JJ blinked. Pope brought his lips down and tenderly kissed JJ’s forehead and whispered, “I’m glad you thought so. It felt pretty incredible to do it for you too.” JJ hummed and his eyes drifted closed.
“Hey,” Pope squeezed his shoulder. “You should have a quick shower before you sleep.”
“Don’t wanna,” JJ mumbled. “Tired and comfy and no energy.”
“Come on, up you get.” Pope encouraged. “You’re sticky and sweaty and smell like sex. You’re laying in the wet spot and you’ve got cum in your hair. Shower, now.”
JJ groaned and with great effort pulled himself up and moved towards the bathroom.
“Aren’t you coming?” JJ asked in a small voice.
“You get in, I’ll be there in a sec,” Pope said. JJ nodded and padded off.
Pope quickly stripped the bed and put on clean sheets from the cupboard, putting the dirty ones in the machine to wash. He then went into the bathroom to join JJ.
When they were showered and dry, wearing clean boxers and a couple of the soft old tees that JJ kept at The Chateau, they crawled into bed and JJ rested his head on Pope’s chest.
“Good call,” JJ admitted, running his hands over the crisp sheets.
Pope hummed in response. JJ closed his eyes, listening to the rumble of it against his ear.
“So, power kink, huh?” JJ smiled into Pope’s chest.
“I guess so,” Pope replied. “Believe me, I took me by surprise a bit too.”
“It was good,” JJ said. “Different. I’ve never experienced that dynamic before. With girls, even when they’re on top, you’re still the one fucking them. This was something completely new. Not just the act itself, but the dynamic too. I liked it. I like the idea that we can switch stuff up like that sometimes.”
“Me too,” Pope agreed. “Give and take, assertive and submissive, top and bottom… there’s so much we can try together. And that’s just power stuff. Then there’s, well, everything else as well.” He felt JJ hum his agreement into the skin over his heart.
“How’s the research going?” JJ asked tentatively.
“Still a work in progress,” Pope said. “But I think we might be ready to progress from theory to the practical part soon.”
“An Introduction to Anal with Professor Heyward,” JJ laughed. “Sign me up for that class! Also, don’t you mean ‘continue the practical part’? Surely rimming counts?”
“Thanks for your input Mr Maybank, but in my classroom we raise our hands when we want to talk, I’d thank you to remember that.”
JJ laughed. “Sorry, Sir…” he drawled out playfully.
Pope cleared his throat. “Anyway class,” he continued in a mock stern voice. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, next week we will be moving onto a new topic: fingering.” JJ laughed against Pope’s chest.
They both fell quiet. After a beat, Pope grinned and said, “I don’t know whether I should be a little bit offended, you know? About not being complicated, I mean.”
“What?” JJ frowned, opening his eyes.
“That thing you said to JB earlier, about girls being complicated, so you said he should date a guy instead.”
“Oh,” JJ settled back down. “That.” He paused then added. “You might be deep, Pope, but you’re not complicated. I mean, not complicated complicated.” Pope ran his fingers soothingly up and down JJ’s arm. “It’s not like do you confusing things that I can’t work out. You’re easy.”
Pope laughed.
“I don’t mean easy.” JJ corrected himself. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean,” Pope cut in. He pressed a kiss to the top of JJ’s head. “I think you’re easy, too.” JJ huffed a small laugh. “Although, you know that probably has more to do with us, specifically, right?” Pope carried on. “Our dynamic. Rather than our gender.”
“Yeah!” JJ agreed, peering up at him. “I mean, we just talk about the hard stuff, right? The emotional stuff. We look it in the eye. We don’t keep it bottled up. Really, what’s the point of that? We both care about each other, and from where I’m standing it seems like we’re on the same page about stuff.”
“Yeah, it probably feels like that because we click so well,” Pope said. “It might be just as complicated dating a guy as it is dating a girl if you don’t get each other the way we do. Or talk about the hard stuff, or the embarrassing stuff like we do. But then, I suppose we trust each other, so that helps.”
JJ blinked and swallowed hard.
“We do click, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” Pope breathed out.
“This really is something special, isn’t it?” JJ said quietly. He wants confirmation, Pope thought. He’s a little insecure and wants confirmation.
“Yes,” Pope said, giving it to him. “For me, right from the very first moment, this just felt right.”
“For me too,” JJ admitted.
JJ rolled over and settled on his side, pulling Pope flush behind him; the big spoon to JJ’s little spoon. Pope’s knees tucked into the crook of JJ’s legs, his arm coming over, fingers interlacing and hands curled close to JJ’s chest. Pope’s groin pressed against JJ’s backside, but in this moment, Pope felt nothing more than tenderness and affection. He pressed a kiss to the back of JJ’s neck, the spot right between his shoulders, and shifted slightly, snuggling them even closer.
“After everything,” JJ mumbled into the pillow, voice drowsy and muffled slightly. “After all this time, and everything we’ve been through to get here.” He paused, let out a breath and then carried on. “It’s hard to believe that this is how it could be from now on.”
Pope thought back to how he used to feel about his relationship with JJ – like his life had turned into a series of moments as precious and delicate and fragile as champagne flutes on a tray in the wind. He wondered when he had stopped feeling like the tiniest wrong move or misstep could bring his happiness crashing down in a shower of irreparable shards of shattered crystal.
“Believe it,” Pope replied, and JJ sighed and relaxed further into his arms. Pope shut his eyes and held him close, his heart beating a rhythm against JJ’s back: this, just this, just this, just this, just this…
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scribbles97 · 5 years ago
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Left Behind -- Chapter 10
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13
Read On Ao3
@gumnut-logic again, thankees for all your help with this as always and my constant poking :D <3 
The sun was setting somewhere on the distant skyline, bathing the balcony in a gold glow and warming Lucy’s skin as she reclined back on the lounger. It was good to get out in the fresh air, or at least the open air. Being in the city still tasted wrong and foreign after the purity of the Island. 
Part of her wished she was there now, able to talk to Sally face to face rather than across the bluish tint of the hologram. 
“The clinical records got emailed across,” Sally was confirming as Lucy watched the horizon, “I’m not concerned about Tanusha’s after care, but Kyrano may need a longer term program.”
Lucy snorted and shook her head, knowing that Kyrano had a different plan for his recovery. The man had been saying as much since that morning, not even twenty-four hours after his injury and he had been planning where he would be off to next. 
“He says he’s not coming back to the Island yet. That he wants to get away from things and get back to a proper balance.”
Across the comm Sally shrugged, “It’s what he did after Onaha died, are you surprised that this is any different?”
The older woman had a point, still Kyrano was taking Jeff’s disappearance personally, like he was the one to blame despite them all knowing better. Anger and frustration had taken over the usually calm man’s personality leaving him a shadow of his former self. Lucy knew the time away in Malaysia would be what he needed, a chance to reset himself and find that balance once more. 
“I worry he’ll go after his brother again.” She admitted quietly, “That if I let him go and something happens to him, it will be down to me for letting him go.”
“Would Lee go with him?” Sally suggested, nodding in quiet agreement, “I know he isn’t the most like Kyrano, but maybe it’s what they both could do with?”
She hadn’t considered it, and at the initial suggestion could have scoffed at the idea of her brother going along to some quiet reflective sanctuary. 
Lee was still uptight though, snapping at everything and everyone, maybe some space away from home and a chance to grieve away from his family was just what he needed. 
“He snapped at Val for talking a certain way today,” Sally added, “Luce, he hasn’t been this bad since Val’s accident. I tried talking to him but he just won’t have any of it, sooner or later something is going to give.”
She sighed and nodded, not sure she was quite up to the task herself, “Do you think you could suggest it?” She asked hopefully, “Test the water? Being out here and getting ready for the passing out on Saturday… I wouldn’t say I was in the best place to bring it up.”
“Of course dear, I’ll get onto it later.” Sally smiled, briefly before her face fell to concern, “How are things coming together for the parade? Scott said something about there only being a small number this year?”
Lucy shrugged, the final details had been discussed on another call earlier in the day. It wasn’t something she had been looking forward to in the last few weeks. Passing out was Jeff’s department, the big brain behind IR, the one to give the speech and award the badges to their newest team members. He had always made a point of writing the speech himself, tweaking and altering it right up until the moment before he gave it, always going to her for suggestions. This one was meant to be even more special. 
This one a father was meant to present the badge to his eldest son. 
Instead it would be Lucy herself, the one that had always been happily, quiet in the background. She would still be just as honoured and proud to present the badge to Scott, but both would know who was meant to give the salute that day. 
“I think a few dropped for various reasons,” she murmured, “The recruitment and training team are looking through it, they mentioned something about the change in the GDF recruitment a few years ago being part of it.”
“Nothing to be over concerned about then?” Sally nodded, “The GDF recruitment was always a fallback for those that dropped out. You and I both know it.”
Lucy had to smile, “Jeff always said, ridiculously high achievers only. Should have put that on the prospectus.”
“We can’t exactly trust anyone else with what we do,” Sally sighed, “It’s a hard business.”
She only had to think about the last few weeks to be able to agree.
“Is everything in place there to transfer lead command to Beta crew?” She asked, knowing Sally had the art of communications down to a T, even if it weren’t her preferred field.
“All organised,” Sally nodded with a smile, “The three of us will be at Roca to meet you on the day.”
“...isn’t exactly a good time to tell her-- shit.”
She turned at Virgil’s voice as he hesitated in the doorway to the balcony, raising an eyebrow at him in question.
“I’ll call you back, Sally.” She murmured, not taking her gaze from her dark haired son as he turned to head back inside.
“Virgil.” She called after him, “Out here please.”
His shoulders fell and she was sure she could hear the curses in his head out loud.
“I’ll talk to you later, Alice.”
Swinging her legs around on the lounger, she sat up and patted the cushion next to her, “Come sit kiddo.”
His sigh was heavy as he sunk down next to her, rolling his eyes as he did so.
“How’s Alice?”
His shrug was non committal, all too hopeful that he could brush her off and escape the conversation. 
“She’s fine, was just filling me in on what I’ve missed this week.”
Lucy didn’t buy it. She had never gotten a chance to catch up with him after the alleged night filled with school work she had thought he had been on top of. Virgil was diligent in his studies, he had a schedule she knew he kept to with slots in the day spaced for food and relaxation. 
There definitely wasn’t any night time studying on that schedule. The young man valued sleep too much.
“I thought she wasn’t the type of girl to keep you up at all hours of the night,” She nodded, “So what’s been stopping you from sleeping?”
He shrugged again, avoiding her as she tilted her head to look at him. It wasn’t like him to be so distant from her, so unwilling to discuss anything especially when something was clearly bothering him. 
She wondered if it was grief that was keeping him up at night. 
“I just want to help, kid,” She murmured, reaching out to take his hand, “If anything’s too much for you, you can tell me. If college is too hard, or you’re just not cop--”
He shook his head, a small smile gracing his mouth as he looked across to her, “It’s not that Mom.”
Holding his gaze, she frowned hard at him. If it wasn’t college and it wasn’t grief, she wasn’t sure where to go next. He didn’t have any romantic partners that she was aware of.
Unless…
“You haven’t fallen out with Alice have you?”
He looked away suddenly, shaking his head in a dead giveaway, “No, not really.”
Like his father, Virgil had always been a terrible liar. 
Lucy was glad she’d had a chance to catch up on some of the IR reports handed over to her that week.
“You know she’s been offered a place on the next intake of engineers?”
His nod was quick as he pursed his lips, “She’d mentioned that she had applied. Wasn’t sure she’d got on it yet.”
Lucy shrugged, “I got sent through the prospective successful applicants, the academic board are just waiting on me to sign them off.”
The way his eyes snapped up to her, quick and wide and full of a sudden panic she hadn’t expected. 
Oh. 
“I only had chance to look at the astronauts and engineers this morning,” She told him, pretending not to watch his reaction, “They’re always the shortest lists.”
It was a lie, she always went for the Basic Training list first, eager to complete the most thorough of checks on those that hope to one day work in the field as an IR operative. 
He sifted next to her, so clearly uncomfortable and not at his usual ease. It didn’t take much guess work to try and figure out just what had him so pent up.
Tilting her head she eyes him, “Any idea who might have applied for the basic training program? The board said there was a good selection this year.”
He still wouldn’t look at her as he shrugged, hands fiddling with the seam of the cushion. 
“Please don’t be mad.”
She was quick to shake her head, mad was anything but the issue. When she had been presented with the list of thirty-eight students that had the qualifications to join IR, only one had been flagged up as undergoing further investigations before being offered a place on the course. 
Augustus Taylor. 
It was only that she had seen Virgil’s newly cropped hair the previous evening that had allowed her to place the man in the ID photo. Cleverly photoshopped, chin more rounded, eye colour just off in the wrong tone of brown, and so subtle that the initial team hadn’t caught on to the edited image.
“I’m not mad Kiddo,” She frowned, reaching out to his arm, “I mean… I want to know why, but I’m not mad.”
He sighed and leant into her touch, hesitating for a long moment before he shook his head and everything came tumbling out, “I didn’t want it to be on the basis of who I am. Just because I’m a Tracy I shouldn’t have automatic rights to get onto the program, especially if…” 
He trailed off suddenly, pulling away as he sat straight again, eyes going to the deepening orange glow on the horizon. 
“If?” Lucy prompted gently, slipping her arm around his broad shoulders. 
Sniffing, he shook his head, “I wasn’t sure I’d be good enough for the tests to get in. I didn’t want to disappoint you if I screwed them up.”
She had more faith in him than that. All her boys had a certain degree of common sense, of logic and Virgil the most caring nature of them all. Maybe she was biased, but she knew he needn’t have worried.
“You really think any of you boys could disappoint me?”
He swallowed as he shrugged, “Scott gets his badge next week.”
Lucy shrugged in return, “And what has that got to do with you getting on to the program? Have I not told you before? You are not your brothers. You are entitled to your own path in life with your own successes and failures that are of no comparison to anyone else's.”
Looking down, he nodded, cheeks a deepening colour of read as he smiled a little, ‘Yeah, I remember.”
She turned to him, taking both of his hands in hers and waiting until she knew she had his full attention. He needed to hear her words for exactly what they were, without them being filtered through the doubt that had clearly settled in his mind. 
“If this is what you want to do, then you go for it son. If you change your mind or it goes wrong or it’s harder than you anticipated nobody is going to be disappointed. You do this for you, okay?”
Taking him in her arms as he sniffled again, she hugged him tight, “We’ll always be proud of you kid, don’t forget that.”
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snowwritesall · 6 years ago
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Writing Tips #1
 I've really been trying to think of ways to improve my writing without just getting out my WIP and working on it - I wanted my improvement to be really specific and targeted, so I've come up with the following exercises to help improve different aspects of your writing! For all of these exercises, I’ll be providing an example of my own attempt at these. 
Hope you all find these helpful!
Exercise #1
Writing a description of a room:
Walk around your house and pick a room to write a description of. This exercise will help strengthen your ability to pick and describe unusual and interesting details in the environment. This exercise will also help reveal the personalities and character traits of those that frequently enter the room. Rooms show that people have memories and emotions tied to the room. An example might be of a family member that passed away in the room, and the emotions the character feels when entering the room. It might also change what the character notices about the room depending on what emotion or memory they associate with that place.
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On the right side of the closet are haphazardly hung dress shirts on wire hangers that are slightly misshapen, these belong to the man that has just begun to live again and hopes he can keep going.
The wardrobe clangs open, sadly not a Narnian closet, so there are no centaurs in sight, but there is a large bed that sits snug in the corner of the room. It used to be in the middle of the room, but it changed with the seasons, and now that a gaming rig sits directly in front of the door, the bed must stay in the corner. A packet of cigarettes still half wrapped sits on the chair, remnants of a man who wants to quit but has smoked ever since he was seventeen and life was hard, harder than he ever knew, and so that is why the cigarettes are hesitantly balanced on the arm of the chair.
He isn’t sure.
Not yet.
A copy of The Time Traveler's Wife sits vertical to the wall on the unmade bed, the lump on the other side belongs to a tall, lean figure that can’t fit his feet properly under the silk blue quilt with the raging dragon. He is like a dragon himself sometimes, smoke pouring from his mouth and fire curdling in his lungs.
The book is half read, and she hopes she will finish it, and return it to the woman who gave it to her, the woman that is mother to the man she loves most, and perhaps she will loan her another one soon.
Perhaps.
Exercise #2
Writing a description of a character making a drink - tea, coffee, hot chocolate, etc
This exercise can help reveal what kind of person your character is. Are they very specific about the way they make the drink? Are there any strange or weird things they do while they are preparing the drink? Are they preparing the drink for themselves or someone else? Are they doing it because they want to relax, because they're stressed or it's a comfort? Maybe the kind of drink they're preparing is tied to a memory that they have. Do they drink tea because it's the first drink their mother ever made them, and she would make it for them when they were sick, or when they had a stressful day at school? Do they drink coffee because they remember their father drinking his morning cup before work, and they began to drink it with him so they'd get an opportunity to spend time with him before they went to work? This exercise also gives you a chance to include specific, interesting details about the environment and the procedure of making the drink.
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He puts the stoneware kettle over the flame, two notches below the highest heat, and a stone kettle because it keeps the heat the best. His father was a stonemason, and a avid tea drinker, so he would know these things, and his son, because he thought his father was a god, with the way he could make anything he wanted out of stone, listened to him. He scooped three fresh of lemon and spearmint tea into the cup, the sun floating like fog in through the musty windows, creating a sepia bath over the kitchen tiles. He grew his own lemon trees out the front of the tiny farmhouse he called his own, the one lone horse grazing on half dead grass out in the lonesome paddock, a single battle line of sparrows lined up on the fence for company. The spearmint sat only half wilted in the plastic pot on the window sill, and he plucked a watery leaf off and tucked it in his mouth, drawing out the cool pinch of the mint. The water whistled in the kettle now, and a rough palm pressed quickly against the swell of the stone to test the heat, a satisfied coo leaving the spout as he poured the water into the cup, the leaves swirling merrily like leaves collecting in a gutter. He didn’t bother with a tea strainer, having always been a fan of the gritty crunch of the lemon and mint along with the bleached water, and took a deep sip, relishing the burn in the back of his throat. The horse neighed lustily, the sound nipping his ear, and he smiled. The horse probably wanted some too.
Exercise #3: 
Write a character backstory in a single paragraph
This writing exercise will help you give information and insight into a character’s past without rambling on for several paragraphs. Forcing yourself to have a limit of a single paragraph for a backstory helps you decide which details are the most important to include. Some of these details may include - their job, and why they chose it; an important influence in their life that led them to live life the way they do and a reason and example of how and why they observe the world the way they do. You can include other details besides those, but it’s up to you which ones you think are the most important and defining. 
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Cough medicine lined his cheeks and nicked at his teeth, a special concoction he’d made up for himself, figuring he was allowed to since he’d studied for twelve hundred days and nights and finally given a slip of paper to show his work had been noticed, the stuffy office in the highest building in the city a reward for his sleepless nights and habitual tendency to stay awake longer than the sun ever did. He liked mending things, the way he did when he awake one morning to a thunderous smack against his window, his bathrobe fleecy against the cold as he ran outside, feet thumping against the cement to find the bird splayed out on the grass below his room, his wing crooked and splintered like dry-wood. He’d wrapped the wing in warm linen and cradled the bird; frantic heaving of bird ribs and scrambling of claws against his clothes, and carried it inside. He snapped a ruler in half, and fitted it into the feathers, slotting the wood and bone together until he knew it would heal straight. His mother didn’t believe in wasting time on anything unimportant, so he and the bird went ignored for weeks on end, and they shared the same diet of dried bread and water until they both flew away, the bird to a new tree, and him to a sturdy bridge.
Thanks for reading, feel free to follow and give this post a re-blog or a like if you found this enjoyable/helpful!
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pauperpedia · 4 years ago
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Tuesday Brewsday 28: Touched by an Angel
Hello again, welcome back to another short deck tech with my on going theme of playing with the white color pie in Magic. Over the course of last week while I was enjoying playing some great games with White Nickle, I came across another interesting mono white list. This deck relied on Angel synergies and thanks to a recent addition from Kaldheim, Stalwart Valkyrie, the deck really made an impact one me. So I set out to brew something similar that suits my own style of play. It doesn’t that it’s easy on wallet either.
Mainboard
4 Stalwart Valkyrie
4 Benevolent Bodyguard
2 Children of Korlis
4 Segovian Angel
4 Kor Skyfisher
3 Answered Prayers
4 Seraph of Dawn/Guardian of the Guildpact
1 Cenn's Enlistment
3 Cartouche of Solidarity
2 Scroll of Avacyn/Bonesplitter
4 Journey to Nowhere
2 Oblivion Ring
2 Secluded Steppe
4 Kabira Crossroads
4 Seraph Sanctuary
13 Plains
Sideboard
3 Standard Bearer
1 Dust to Dust
3 Fragmentize
1 Leave No Trace
3 Crib Swap
2 Crimson Acolyte/Dawn Charm
2 Obsidian Acolyte/Dawn Charm
Part of the Angels’ game plan is to utilize life gain and evasive creatures to beat your opponent. Seraph Sanctuary is a land that gains you 1 life when it enters the battlefield, and whenever an Angel does as well. Since it can only add colorless mana, I didn’t want to include copies of Radiant Fountain. Instead I went with the slower Kabira Crossroads because it taps for white mana. One measure to fight flood, because it will happen with high land counts, is that I’ve included 2 copies of Secluded Steppe. All these lands are perfect targets for Kor Skyfisher as well, giving further value to the 2/3 flyer of legend. One thing I’d like to add is that if you decide to play Guardian of the Guildpact instead of Seraph of Dawn, you can easily swap out Radiant Fountain for Seraph Sanctuary. Maybe even a split between the two lands and two creatures would be the most ideal, but that will have to be something you decide best fits your style or metagame.
The creature that absolutely makes this deck worthwhile is Stalwart Valkyrie. This lovely Angel is white’s version of Delver of Secrets/Insectile Aberration. Normally a 3/2 flyer for 4 mana, Stalwart Valkyrie can be cast on the cheap for two mana if you exile a creature in your graveyard. In order to play the Valkyrie for 2 mana, more often than not the deck required creatures that can sacrifice themselves if need be. The creatures I had in mind were Benevolent Bodyguard and Children of Korlis. Bodyguard was in the Angel decks I ran against as well. It’s a sold creature that can protect another creature or help you deliver the final blow. I don’t recall ever seeing Children of Korlis in the decks I faced, but I think I love this inclusion. It’s like a Prismatic Strands attached to a creature, but can only prevent life loss to you so long as it isn’t lethal. Notice how it specifically states loss of life, so it can protect you from those pesky black burn decks if you time it right.
Another one drop creature is an Angel that beats the vanilla test, so I’m inclined to include it. Segovian Angel is a 1/1 creature with Vigilance and Flying. This little Angel, although unassuming in nature, checks off all the boxes we need in a one drop for our Angel deck. For now, we can’t get much better than this.
What can I say about Kor Skyfisher that hasn’t already been said? There is a reason you see this card pop up in many decks that run white. There are many targets in this deck for Kor Skyfisher to take advantage of as well, making this 2/3 flyer for 2 mana an auto include. It may not be an Angel, but Kor Skyfisher deserves an honorary halo.
Answered Prayers is a special card that I absolutely loved when I first saw it. Who doesn’t love that art!? By running 22 creatures, in addition to Cartouche of Solidarity & Cenn’s Enlistment, there are plenty of opportunities to trigger this angelic enchantment. Don’t discount the fact that it gets around Sorcery speed removal as well and that being a 3/3 flyer it can end games quickly.
In the four mana slot I like two options. If you want to continue with the Angel theme than there is no better choice than Seraph of Dawn. This 2/4 flying lifelinker can help keep you alive and possibly help bring your opponent’s life total down to zero in the process. Alternatively, you could run Guardian of the Guildpact and still kind of be on theme, although you’d definitely want to change the mana base around and drop the Scroll of Avacyn. Regardless, the Guardian’s ability to have protection from mono colored means that in most cases this creature is untouchable as well as unblockable. You can’t beat that value in a creature!
Since we’re running 23 lands in order to cast our midrange spells on curve, there will be times in the late game we tend to “flood out”. As a safety valve to release the rushing waters, I wanted to include Cenn’s Enlistment. Thanks to its Retrace keyword, you can turn excess lands into more creatures. The tokens may not officially be Angels, but I’ve always thought of Kithkin as little cherubs anyways.
Scroll of Avacyn is one Angel themed payoff that essentially cantrips for two mana and gains you 5 life. It’s literally a better version of Revitalize which draws you a card at instant speed and gains you 3 life. If you were set on running Guardian of the Guildpact though, I’d probably recommend running Bonesplitter in its place. This fearsome weapon can be given to the spirit to really put the pressure on an opponent.
No midrange white deck would be complete without utilizing the best available removal. That just so happens to be Journey to Nowhere and it’s slightly more expensive but more flexible sister Oblivion Ring. Someday, maybe WotC will bless us with Path to Exile, which I think is a completely fair card in pauper. You hear that Gavin!? Try to make it happen if you’re ever reading this please 🙏
The sideboard is your typical mono white sideboard, that is until you come across Crib Swap. This card is fantastic when you’re up against flicker deck or decks that rely on creatures dying. The 1/1 creature it leaves behind is more often than not, a better solution than what you faced before. Unmake is undoubtedly a better option, but unreliable to cast, whereas Crib Swap is a ton easier. If you’re playing on a budget and don’t want to spend 80% of your decks $ on the acolytes, I would like to suggest Dawn Charm. This modal spell allows you to be flexible and does the same thing the acolytes try to do, but only once.
Give your blessings to Avacyn and lead her valiant Angels to victory. Let the heroes of the great halls sing about the Stalwart Valkyries and how they Answered Prayers in the heat of battle. I hope you have enjoyed these blogs/articles. I’m always open to feedback and simply want to provide the best content I can. I’m always open to collaborate on a deck as well. Please visit and like/follow me at http://facebook.com/pauperpedia a fan page dedicated to bringing you links to daily articles, videos, and podcast from other content creators covering Pauper. You can also email me at [email protected] if you have deck submissions you want me to cover as well. Till next time folks, have a happy Brewsday!
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lightshadowverisimilitude · 7 years ago
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Chaos and Dancing Stars 7/?
I’m a bit nervous about this one…
Chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Five Years Ago
The mattress shifted under him, and Tony woke with a sharp inhale, pressing away from the intrusion. His body screamed all at once, muscles spasming along his spine and down into his legs. His lungs tried to produce a scream, but his throat shut it down and he ended up coughing. His head spun and lights exploded behind his eyes while he tried to make heads or tails of where he was, and how to get away from the danger.
“It’s just me! Tony, it’s just me.”
Pepper’s voice cut through the fog and confusion, and Tony tried to calm his panicked breathing. He searched through the near darkness to find her perched on the edge of the bed with both of her hands up. She looked like she was ready to bolt, and Tony couldn’t blame her. He didn’t always come out of nightmares peacefully, though this time he couldn’t remember if he’d been dreaming.
“Pep,” he gasped out, and then collapsed back to the mattress as the pieces started slotting into place. Gods, aliens, the vacuum squeezing around him like a fist, falling. Falling. He set a shaky hand over his chest, fingers automatically scrabbling at the reactor casing. It hummed reassuringly against his skin, the faint vibration extending into his bones.
“I’m sorry,” Pepper said after Tony had gotten his lungs under control again. “I should have known better. I just wanted to check on you.”
Her voice sounded strained, and when he looked up at her, he found that she was visibly struggling not to cry. Her face was red and splotchy, and her eyes were bright in the faint light. Tony reached out for her blindly. She all but lunged for his hand, making him jerk back in surprise, but she caught his fingers between her palms and held them tightly.
“Don’t ever do that again, don’t you ever. Ever. Ever do that again, Tony!” Her voice came out as a pitchy whisper. He could tell that she was trying to be firm, but couldn’t get enough air. Fat tears spilled over her lower eyelids and rolled down her cheeks.
Tony wanted to reach up and wipe the tears away, but he was frozen by the force of her reaction. He remembered her picture flickering on his HUD, the Call Failed that had gone straight to his gut. At the time, he’d thought about telling Jarvis to call Rhodey, but it had already been too late, and what could either of them had said to him? Watching her cry, he tried to imagine how he would have felt if Rhodey had called him seconds from imminent death and he’d missed the call.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“Don’t!” Pepper shouted, her voice finally breaking through the emotional stranglehold. She looked furious. “Don’t you apologize to me, Tony Stark. Not for. For.” She dissolved into sobs, her hand clenching his so hard that it started to hurt. He used it to reel her in, and she struggled out of her shoes so she could crawl into the bed with him.
Holding her hurt. Every bruise, bump, and probable fracture screamed at the contact. His head throbbed, and he really needed to go to the bathroom, and he really really needed a toothbrush and a glass of water. Not holding her would have been worse. He ignored the pain, holding her tightly and burying his face in her hair. Her hair smelled like strawberries, which had always amused him, and reeked of fear and sadness, which made him want to stand between her and the entire world.
He didn’t know how long they’d been like that before the door creaked open. Tony twisted – bad idea, neck so did not appreciate at all – ready to bear his teeth at whoever thought they were going to invade his moment, but it was Rhodey staring wide-eyed at them.
“This a party anyone can join?” he asked.
Tony hadn’t seen a look on Rhodey’s face like that since Afghanistan, but his voice was deceptively casual. Pepper waved him over, tugging at Tony – ouch, ribs did not appreciate – until he’d rolled onto his side. Rhodey closed the door behind him, sat on the edge of the bed, and unlaced his shoes. He took so long with it that Pepper finally reached over and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him backwards into the bed. Rhodey’s left shoe hit the carpet with a thump, and then he fit himself neatly to Tony’s spine, face burrowing against Tony’s neck.
“I thought I told you no more funvees,” Rhodey muttered against his skin.
Tony took in a careful breath and said, “Baby, I’m a walking funvee.”
(read more)
Rhodey snorted. He reached across Tony’s hip to put a hand on Pepper’s low back and pulled, squishing them tighter together – ribs really did not appreciate – and fell silent.
Tony thought about going back to sleep. He could use it, and he hadn’t slept in a pack-pile since Afghanistan. Before that, it had been more than a decade. He closed his eyes to test out how likely his body was to cooperate, but his bladder throbbed warningly as soon as he did.
“If you two beautiful people would just stay right where you are, I would appreciate it,” Tony said, and then fought against their hold to get upright. “If you don’t let me up, none of us are going to be very comfortable in this bed for much longer.” The warning finally got Rhodey to let him go, and Tony made painfully slow progress getting out of the bed.
He could feel Rhodey’s eyes on him as he hobbled across the room, but he couldn’t have hidden how much discomfort he was in for all the world. Even if it had been Steve in the bed, he didn’t think it would have mattered. Still, Rhodey let him make the trek alone – which Tony appreciated – and then made a crack about him being an old man – which Tony didn’t appreciate – and only laughed when Tony pointed out that Rhodey was older than him anyway.
Tony wasn’t sure that he was going to make it back to the bed on his own, but found Rhodey on the other side of the door. Without a word, Rhodey wrapped an arm around Tony’s back and all but carried him to the bed. He felt a pang of worry that he was going to fall into a nightmare, but when Pepper tucked her head under his chin, and Rhodey’s arm snaked around his hips, Tony fell immediately into a deep sleep.
~*~
When Tony woke up again, Pepper was propped up against the headboard. She had a hand in Tony’s hair, her fingers gently scratching scalp. The space behind him was empty, but the room still smelled like Rhodey. He shifted against Pepper’s thigh and rolled slowly backwards onto the pillows. She lifted her hand so he could move, and then set it down above his head. She smiled at him.
“Hi.”
Tony tried a smile, but he wasn’t sure how it came out. “Hi.” He turned his head carefully to look over the empty place where Rhodey had been when he’d fallen asleep.
“He wanted to be here when you woke up,” Pepper said, brushing Tony’s hair back from his forehead. “Ross came after Bruce.”
Tony should have thought about that. He struggled to get upright, but Pepper set her free hand on his chest and gently held him down.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Rhodey already cut him off at the knees. I almost wish you’d been awake for it – it was beautiful. He had one of Ross’ goons by the scruff and the president on his cell. Did you know he has the president on speed dial? Between Steve and Rhodey, Bruce got a pardon on the spot, and I thought Ross was going to pop.” A markedly feline smile spread across her face. “All of Ross’ goons practical tripped on each other bearing their throats. Pretty rare to see Rhodey getting his alpha up, and Steve is…” She shuddered faintly. “He’s something else.”  
“I’m sure you just sat back and did nothing,” Tony said wryly, ignoring the mention of Rogers for the moment.
Pepper crossed her legs at the ankles and sat up very primly. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said.
“Sure.” Tony stroked two fingers over her knee. Pepper and Rhodey were nearly matched on their a-levels, but Pepper was sneaky about it. She was good at making people underestimate her, so that when she did decide to get her alpha up, it flattened most people to the floor.
Setting her tablet aside, Pepper shifted over to curl a little closer to Tony’s head. Tony tried to peer over her leg to see what she’d been working on, but she just moved the tablet over to the nightstand and clicked it off. Tony yawned. He thought about reaching for it, but that seemed like a lot of effort. He let his eyes drift half-closed again. If he were functioning at closer to 100%, he would be startled that he’d slept through the ruckus of Ross trying to take Bruce into custody, but then again, maybe it wasn’t so startling. After he’d come home from the cage, Pepper had once put herself at Tony’s front door and snarled down an entire mob of reporters, warning them very effectively not to wake him up. Considering how quiet they’d all gotten afterwards, he probably wouldn’t have woken up if he hadn’t been awake already.
“What time is it?” he mumbled into the cloth of her pajama pants. He had a hazy memory that she’d been wearing one of her high-powered pencil skirt numbers before, but she’d obviously gotten up to change at some point.
Pepper leaned sideways, briefly clicking the tablet on, and then turned it back off before Tony could see anything useful. “Almost three in the afternoon. It’s Wednesday, by the way.”
Tony stilled. “Why didn’t someone wake me up?” he demanded, heart suddenly thudding against the reactor. He struggled upright, ignoring Pepper’s hands trying to hold him down. “Where are my meds?”
“Rhodey went to get them,” Pepper soothed, putting her hands on either side of his face. “I’m sorry, we should have realized earlier. He’ll be back soon. One day isn’t going to matter.”
Tony seethed silently. With as hard as he’d worked and religious as he was about his meds, one day did matter. Before he could say anything, Pepper leaned forward and kissed his forehead, her lips soft and dry between his eyebrows.
“You almost died, Tony,” she reminded him. “And you’ll have them in a few minutes.”
The front door opened and Tony heard the rustle of a plastic bag. He pulled out of Pepper’s hands and crawled backwards off the bed. She sighed, but followed him out of the bedroom. He found Rhodey sorting through yellow bottles at the breakfast bar. He had one bottle in his hand, and his phone in the other, but stopped when he saw Tony carefully making his way out of the hall. Tony made a gimmie gesture and Rhodey handed it over without protest.
While Tony sorted through the bottles himself, Rhodey filled a glass of water for him. Tony took the pills all at once, ignoring Pepper’s quirked eyebrow, and then downed the water just to make her happy.
“I’ll get you some food,” Rhodey said wryly.
Tony probably should have had the food first, but better to just get the pills over with. He noticed a bottle of Ibuprofen in the mix and gratefully accepted a refill to his water before swallowing four of the pills. He lamented again that he couldn’t have anything stronger, but didn’t say anything. He’d done that to himself, after all.
While Rhodey rattled around in the kitchen, Tony made use of the hall bathroom, and then leaned on the door for a few minutes while he waited for the wave of dizziness to pass. Before he’d convinced himself that he needed to get back to the kitchen for food, Rogers turned the corner and nearly ran into him.
“Mr. Stark!” he squeaked.
Tony stared at him. Captain America had just squeaked, and goddamn him, but it was probably the cutest, most ridiculous thing Tony had ever heard. He felt his jaw dropping slowly open as Roger’s cheeks blazed red. The man honest-to-fucking-God shuffled his feet and scratched the back of his neck. How was he even real?
“Cap,” Tony said before the moment could get awkward.
Steve looked him up and down, and frowned fiercely. “You don’t look so good, Mr. Stark. Can I help you back to bed?”
Tony tried to summon up some rage, but he was already starting to feel queasy. Besides that, he didn’t trust himself not to just throw up all over Rogers’ pearly white obviously brand new running shoes. He just grunted and pushed away from the bathroom door, caught himself on the frame, and slid down the hall with his shoulder pressed to the wall. Rogers followed at a discreet distance, trying so hard to Not Hover that it would have been less annoying if he’d just picked Tony up in a bridal carry.
When they made it into the kitchen, Pepper was perched on one of the stools with her laptop out, frowning deeply at whatever she was working on, and Rhodey was doing trick-flips with his pancakes. Tony eyed the high barstool at Pepper’s side, decided that he would probably embarrass himself if he tried, and opted for the table. Rogers darted forward like he was going to pull Tony’s chair out, but diverted at the last second and took a seat himself. Tony lowered himself carefully to the padded chair and watched Rogers’ out of the corner of his eye as it occurred to the man that he’d sat down with nothing to do. Rogers squirmed in his seat for a few seconds, and then jumped back up.
“Can I help you with anything, Colonel?” he asked respectfully, standing just to one side of the line between the kitchen tile and the sleek wood flooring.
Rhodey gave Rogers a side-eye and then said, “There’s cheese in the fridge. Grater is in the cabinet by the dishwasher.”
Obviously relieved at having something to do, Rogers hopped-to like any airman under Rhodey’s command. Tony watched with a vague sense of surreal wonder as Captain America set about cooking breakfast with Tony’s best friend. He pinched himself surreptitiously, but Pepper caught him and smirked. Tony stuck his tongue out at her.
“What are you working on, Ms. Potts?” he asked, doing his best to sound professional and unconcerned.
Pepper snagged a banana out of the basket and cradled her laptop against her chest as she slid out of her stool. She handed Tony the banana and pursed her lips at him until he peeled it and took a bite, and then set her laptop down curled into a chair.
“How much chaos is there?” Tony asked quietly as she opened the screen and tapped at the mouse pad.
“Unlike the effects of your usual antics, our stocks are currently at a ten year high,” she announced proudly, turning the laptop so he could see the numbers.
Tony snorted incredulously, but he wasn’t going to be taken in by the numbers for at least another month. They usually saw a brief surge in stocks when Iron Man did something ‘heroic,’ followed by a dip when the public realized that his heroics had come along with property damage and political fallout. After a stunt like this… either they’d get a world-saving boost for a while, or they’d crash once people started tallying the damage to the city.
He shuddered faintly. “We need to talk about clean up,” he said. “There’s alien tech and alien bodies all over the city. I don’t want some kid to pick up a Chitauri weapon and start waving it around, and I hope the CDC is already out in force. Who knows what kind of bugs the Chitauri were carrying around with them.” He felt his stomach turn, but that was probably as much from taking his meds on an empty stomach as anything else.
“I understand that the city is already contracting cleanup crews to get the bodies out of the streets, and SHIELD has been coordinating efforts with the rest of the agencies. Natasha has been helping me put together a strategy for the company going forward – Don’t give me that look,” Pepper chastised. “I know what she did, and I haven’t forgiven her for that yet, but she’s smart and she did help you save the world. That’s worth at least taking her off the black list.”
Tony made a noncommittal noise and bit into his banana. “What else?” he asked without commenting, waving toward her laptop.
“The entire board of directors has been on my ass all day, but I told them all to shove it and had Jarvis block their calls. I also took the liberty of getting started filing for the merchandising rights for your new friends. I didn’t think you’d want Disney to run off them with them like they did Captain America.”
From the kitchen, Rogers straightened up. “What does that mean?”
“Disney bought the rights to the Captain America brand about fifty years ago. Dad was livid, believe me, but Disney is one of the few companies in the world that can go toe-to-toe with SI, and we’ve never been successful getting them back,” Tony reported neutrally. Of course, once he took control of SI, he’d put a stop to the ongoing bickering legal battles over the matter. He guessed he would have to put some backbone into it now that Captain America was more than a moldering pile of memorabilia and an outdated comic book.
“You’re a Disney princess,” Rhodey clarified for him, deadpan.
Pepper dropped her forehead into her hand and tried to stifle her laughter. For his part, Rogers just stared at them all uncertainly. “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said finally. “Should I have the rights to… me?”
“Yeah, no,” Tony answered. “Doesn’t work that way. They tried to snag the rights to Iron Man when I first started making news, and they probably would have gotten it if I hadn’t gone public.”
“That seems. Wrong?”
Pepper finally got her giggles under control enough to say, “That’s capitalism, Cap.”
~*~
Tony sat at the table long after the dishes had been cleared away. He was aching and tired again, but getting out of the chair seemed like too much effort for too little reward. Rhodey and Pepper had both been called away despite protests, but even after the world almost ended, life continued on. Bruce was apparently down town with SHIELD already analyzing the Chitauri remains, and Tony hadn’t seen the two superspies since sending them off to bed.
Which left him alone with Rogers. The silence was saved from being awkward by virtue of Tony just being too tired to care. Pepper had sicced a doctor on him before she’d left, and Tony had another appointment in the morning with an xray machine.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Tony announced into the quiet.
Rogers jumped guiltily. “I’m not,” he lied. Badly. Before Tony could call him on it, he shrugged uncomfortably. “I tried to go out earlier today to see if I could help, but I was mobbed by reporters. Fury suggested that I might actually be doing more harm than good right now.”
He looked weary as he said it, boyish – really, almost cartoonish – charm banished, and Tony saw something other than Captain America Defender of Freedom and Justice and the American Way for the first time. He was so young. It was startling to realize exactly how young – twenty-seven if Tony’s foggy brain was doing the math right – and this is what he’d woken up to. Before Tony could figure out what to do with the information that the symbol he’d alternately worshipped and hated as a child was a human being, Steve shook off the exhaustion and disappointment in his face and offered Tony a smile.
“I’m not babysitting,” he repeated, “But I thought maybe being here would be better than the SHIELD bunker they wanted to shove me in. So if I needed to imply to a few people that my teammates needed me…”
A laugh startled its way out of Tony chest, sudden and sharp enough to send a stab of pain through his ribs. He put a hand on his chest and rubbed faintly at the bruises under the dark shirt while Steve watched him with a worried pucker to his lips.
“You have my permission to keep up the fiction,” Tony said graciously, though they both knew that it wasn’t really a fiction. As much as Tony liked to be self-sufficient, even he could admit that being alone was probably not a great idea for him. He looked back at Steve and thought that maybe he might not want to be alone either.
They fell back into silence, Tony doing the math on how much distance he would need to cover to get to the bathroom and then to his bed. He stacked that against how many steps he thought he could actually make on his own, and how much embarrassment he was willing to take by asking Steve to help him. He was reasonably sure he could make it to the bathroom, and he could always just rest there until he felt up to moving again.
Steve reached across the table and picked up one of Tony’s pill bottles, left out from earlier. He turned it over in his hands, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. He gave Tony a sideways glance, cleared his throat and said, “So, they tell me you were born omega.”
And that was apparently the end of pleasant conversation with Captain America. Tony was surprised by the pang of disappointment. “I’m sure they’ve told you a lot of things,” he said, pushing himself out of the chair and trying to hide how much it hurt to be back on his feet. “I guess you want to know if I’ve still got all my parts? If I can get it up? If I miss being in heat? Try Google.”
Rogers’ mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened in obvious embarrassment. Tony snagged the bottle from him, scooped the rest back into the plastic bag, and turned around. It would have been more satisfying if he’d been able to storm out of the room in good dramatic fashion, but he had to settle for holding onto the wall and locking the bathroom door behind him.
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josephkitchen0 · 6 years ago
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Reviving Old Crab Apple Recipes
Previous generations grew crab apple trees as an edible, not just decorative, tree. People knew how to care for apple trees and nurtured these trees well to produce great abundance. The varieties that were planted grew bigger fruit that was a little less tart and crab apple recipes abounded to use them.
There is an old heritage crab apple tree in the village where I live. It bears well every other year and this was the year for it. So, I went to gather the fruits and as I approached the tree, all I could say was, “Wow.” The huge old tree was laden with fruit.
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The crab apples were large and beautifully colored. They almost resembled large Rainier cherries. I immediately had to eat one, of course, to see what their flavor was like. It was still tart but deliciously so. Unlike any crab apple I had ever eaten before, I finished the whole thing.
I thought to myself — what a wonderful gift to this village — this tree planted in a public spot, which produces such amazing abundance. I was so happy I had come to pick; so that all of these apples wouldn’t go to waste.
Crab Apple Recipes
Sweet and Sour Crab Apples
I guess it’s a sign of the times that it can be difficult to find crab apple recipes; no one thinks of crab apples as a usable fruit anymore. I did finally find a recipe that looked good in Putting Food By (Greene, Hertzberg & Vaughan 2010).
To begin, I picked out three pounds of crab apples with no dings or dark spots.
These spots can easily ruin a jar of food so they are to be avoided with vigilance.
Then I cleaned the apples and used my fingernail to rub off the blossom end of each.
The recipe said to use a large needle to poke the apples so that they wouldn’t explode when cooking. I did this as well, poking each with a big pin several times.
With my fruit prepared, I turned to the brine. I had to prepare a spice bag for the flavoring. I cut two layers of cheesecloth in a small square and put the spices in the center: cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, and whole nutmeg cracked open. Then I used little pieces of kitchen twine to tie it into a satchel.
This went into a pot with cider vinegar, water, and sugar. I brought it to a boil and cooked three minutes before adding the apples.
The recipe said to add the crab apples and simmer about fifteen minutes. This is where I will alter the Putting Food By crab apple recipe a little. This is what happened when I followed the original instructions: mushy crab apples.
The skins on the crab apples burst after about five minutes in the brine and soon became a mushy mess. I decided to turn them into applesauce, which I’ll show later. The two things I thought went wrong with my first attempt at this crab apple recipe were: 1) maybe I didn’t prick the skins well enough and 2) they shouldn’t cook nearly so long in the brine.
So I began again. When I got to the step where I had pricked the apples with a pin, I used a large-tined fork instead. Then, when I put them in the brine, I kept it at a low simmer after adding them and only cooked them four to five minutes, keeping a close eye on when they began to soften slightly. I suppose this step could be very different based on how ripe your fruit was to begin with. If you have less ripe, harder fruit, it might need to cook longer.
This time my apples didn’t split and they looked beautiful when I scooped them out with a slotted spoon and packed the jars.
I poured the brine in over the apples, cleaned the rims and put on the lids and bands. They went into the hot water bath for 20 minutes. I have to admit that the heat of the canning process did make them split slightly again, but they are still lovely, and more importantly, their flavor is wonderful!
Sweet and Sour Crab Apples (modified from Putting Food By)
3 pounds crab apples, cleaned, blossom end removed and pricked with a fork
4 cinnamon sticks
3 dozen whole cloves
1 whole nutmeg, crushed slightly
3 cups apple cider vinegar
3 cups water
2-1/4 cups sugar
Prepare your fruit.
Make a spice bag with two layers of cheesecloth. Put the spices in it and tie it closed.
In a large pot, combine the remaining ingredients to make the brine. Stir to dissolve the sugar then add the spice bag. Bring the brine to a boil and cook three minutes.
Turning the brine down to a low simmer, add your apples. Keep a close eye on them, only letting them cook until they begin to soften slightly — about four to five minutes.
Use a slotted spoon to scoop the apples into the jars, leaving about 1/2 inch of headspace.
Pour the hot brine in over the apples, clean the rims and put on the lids and bands.
Process in a hot water bath for 20 minutes.
Crab Applesauce
I mentioned earlier that I decided to make applesauce from my failed crab apple recipe for Sweet and Sour Crab Apples. This was a pretty easy process. I rinsed the mushy apples in a colander to remove a little of the brine.
Then I returned them to my pot and let them cook about 10 minutes on medium heat until they really began to break down.
Then I got out my grandma’s old food mill and ran the mush through it a scoop at a time. The food mill is such a cool invention. It traps the solids on top and pushes the puree through small holes into the container below. My grandma’s isn’t the most efficient version, but it does get the job done.
I ended up with three pint jars of wonderfully pink apple sauce. I left one in the fridge to eat right away and froze the other two for later consumption. These, too, could be canned if you so desired. The flavor of the applesauce was nice without any additional spicing since the apples had been cooked with the spice bag containing nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves and had also retained a little of the sweetness from the brine. It was a happy accident that my first try at the Sweet and Sour Crab Apple recipe didn’t work out; I ended up with some great applesauce too.
Crab Apple Jelly
When I was looking through Putting Food By for the Sweet and Sour Crab Apple recipe, I happened upon a no-added-pectin jelly recipe. Since I had so many crab apples, I made some of this as well. It was a fairly easy process, which if you’re familiar with making how to make peach jam or jelly — or really any kind of jelly — you could easily tackle!
The first step, as usual with jelly, was to make an infusion with the apples. I put about 4.25 cups of them into my food processor with the shredding blade on it. This cut-up apple went into a large pot with three cups of water and onto the stovetop. I brought it to a boil then covered it, reduced the heat to a simmer, and let it cook 25 minutes.  
I strained the pulp out and divided the remaining liquid into two pots. One I would make into plain Crab Apple Jelly and the other into Blueberry Crab Apple Jelly.
For the plain, I put the pot on the stove top. To this, I added two cups of sugar and brought it to a boil, stirring well to dissolve the sugar. I let it cook at a high boil just a few minutes, testing it often to see if it had gelled, by letting it roll off the spoon. When the viscosity changed so that they drops rolled together then off the spoon (instead of falling straight off in fast drips), I removed it from the heat, skimmed off the scum on top, and filled my jars. After cleaning the rims and apply the lids and bands, I finished them in a hot water bath for five minutes.
For the blueberry version, I also put the pot on the stove top with the crab apple infusion but I added a cup of blueberries. I let it cook about ten minutes on medium heat until the blueberries got mushy and released their juices. Then I ran the mixture through the strainer again to remove the blueberry skins and seeds. The rest of the process was the same as above: add sugar, boil, test for gel, fill, and process jars.
Both jellies came out nicely, without any added pectin and adding the blueberries to part of it offers us more variety in our pantry without much added effort. Just the kind of recipe I like!
(Blueberry) Crab Apple Jelly
4-1/4 cups crab apples, cleaned and shredded in food processor
1-2 cups blueberries (optional)
3 cups water
4 cups sugar
Clean and shred your apples.  Put them in a large pot with the water and bring to a boil.  Cover, reduce heat to simmer and let cook 25 minutes.
Strain out the solids (great chicken treat!) and return liquid to large pot.
If adding blueberries to some of your infusion, add them now. Cook over medium heat for about ten minutes. Strain out solids again and return liquid to pot. (Note- if you are making your whole batch as blueberry crab apple you can add blueberries at the beginning with the crab apples.)
Turn heat up to high and stir in all the sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring constantly, and cook until you can see the change in viscosity when the liquid drips off of your spoon.
Remove from heat and skim off any scum on top.
Fill jars, leaving about 1/2″ headspace. Wipe rims clean, apply lids and bands and process for five minutes in a hot water bath.
Crab Apple Wine
I wrote about the whole process for making crab apple wine on my blog. I’ll include the recipe here, but you can find a more detailed explanation of the process with lots of photos on my site.
Crab Apple Wine
5 pounds of crab apples, washed and halved
1 cup raisins
1 teaspoon lemon juice
filtered water to fill a large stockpot
6 cups sugar
pinch of yeast
Wash apples and cut them in half. Put them in a large stock pot then add raisins and lemon juice. Fill the pot with filtered water so that it was almost full.
Turned on the heat to high and when it begins to boil, add sugar. Turn down the heat and let it simmer about ten minutes, stirring to dissolve the sugar.
Remove from the heat, cover with a clean dish towel and leave overnight. In the morning, I add yeast, stir, and re-cover the pot.
For three days, stir the pot once each day then re-cover it with the clean towel. You should see bubbles forming at the top to show fermentation has begun.
After this period, strain out the solids and pour the remaining liquid into a sterilized carboy topped with an airlock to ferment for two months.
When the liquid turns clear and the bubbling stops, you’re ready to bottle it.
For more on how to bottle your homemade wine, my dandelion wine recipe shows step-by-step how we got our wine into bottles, corked and labeled it.
There are so many crab apple recipes out there to try. I sure hope if you are blessed to have inherited a heritage crab apple tree in your yard or neighborhood that you won’t let its wealth of food be wasted. Let’s learn from times past and turn this classic fruit into a pantry staple again!
Reviving Old Crab Apple Recipes was originally posted by All About Chickens
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oovitus · 7 years ago
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The benefits of overindulgence. (And the 4 key lessons that eating too much can teach you).
New clients often come to us feeling guilty and weak after a holiday season, a vacation, or a long weekend of overeating. Our response often surprises them. Because we know that there are some surprising benefits of overindulgence and key lessons that eating too much can teach.
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Thanksgiving. Valentine’s Day. The first big summer BBQ. A family reunion at the beach.
Throughout the year, new clients come to us feeling guilty and terrible about eating (and drinking) too much at [insert the latest festivity here].
With a cocktail of regret, shame, and resolve to “do things better”, they tell us how “bad” they’ve been. And how ready they are to shape up once and for all.
Our response often surprises them.
Because it’s not, “drink water” or “get more fiber” or “focus on clean eating”.
It’s actually:
Maybe you needed to overindulge.
Record scratch.
Why would a health, fitness, or wellness coach ever say that?
Because overindulgence has several important — and vastly underrated — roles to play in the bigger picture of health, fitness, and nutrition.
Here are four of them:
Lesson #1. “Slipping up” is a necessary part of change, progress, and success.
We often imagine change or “progress” as a linear graph, like this:
Every day, we get better and better, until eventually we’re perfect, fit, godlike creatures who’ve Got Everything Together.
In reality, change and progress look more like this:
We wholeheartedly embrace better food choices for a bit, then eat macaroni and cheese for a week, then ace our new habits for a while, and then a business trip throws us off for a minute, then we’re back on the horse…
From week to week or month to month, our cycles and rhythms are like a Slinky (or a coil) that’s been stretched like this:
We try something new and move forward, or upward, bubbling with excitement and energy.
Then we cycle. Life throws us a situation that tests our new approach. Progress pauses, or dips downward, or goes backward.
Up, down, forward, back.
There are a number of perfectly good reasons for this:
Maybe we need to go back to re-open or revisit something — to reconsider an idea that didn’t grab us right away, or address a question we avoided answering when first asked.
Maybe we need downtime — to think, reflect, regroup, reboot, or incubate something new.
Maybe we need to regress briefly — to dip into our old selves or old habits and remember why we are building new ones, like visiting an ex to remember why you left them.
Maybe we need to repeat something — to practice, drill, and/or test our skills under different conditions.
Or maybe it’s that we simply don’t have the skills yet to reach the next level of our progression and, like everything else in life, we need to accept that doing things badly is a necessary precursor to doing them well.
Regardless of the reason, weight loss progress can stop or even go the opposite direction. And that usually happens on the tail end of a stretch where we’ve put our exercise regimen on hold, or dived into a week-long food orgy.
That’s why almost every weight loss graph looks like this.
The trend is headed in the right direction, but the day-to-day and week-to-week fluctuations feel turbulent.
But that’s not because every single person trying to lose weight sucks, has no discipline, and can’t do weight loss correctly.
Rather, based on our experience with nearly 100,000 clients and patients, it seems like dips, plateaus, and everything in between are actually necessary.
Both physiologically and psychologically.
Perhaps that’s why they’re so normal.
Which leads us to…
Lesson #2. Indulgence offers an opportunity to ask the bigger questions (and learn some stuff).
Our indulgences — even the ones we ultimately regret — can serve as amazing learning opportunities, if we let them.
Oftentimes, new clients feel ashamed when they feel they’ve overindulged. They just want to hide from their “mistake” and “start over”.
Instead, we encourage them to use overindulgence as the impetus for self-reflection.
This practice helps them get into the habit of observing and learning from what’s going on in their lives and bodies (rather than judging and self-shaming).
For example, we might ask:
What job is indulgence (or celebration, or reward) doing for us?
How important is that for our lives?
What kind of person are we when we’re indulging?
What is good about not doing anything differently?
Clients are often (rightfully) confused when we ask these kinds of questions.
“What could possibly be positive about this?” they want to know, pointing to empty ice cream cartons and a recycling bin full of beer cans.
But here’s the truth: We do the things we do for a reason.
That indulgence, no matter how big or regrettable, is doing a job for us. It’s somehow solving a problem for us, even if not very well.
Recognizing how our behaviors serve us — even “bad habits“ like four cocktails with a junk food chaser — can help us put resistance aside, stop hiding, and see things more clearly.
What need is the indulgence is fulfilling?
And what would be a more valuable/health-affirming way to fulfill that need?
Though it might seem counterintuitive, cutting our bad habits some slack and acknowledging what role they play for us, can actually lead to deeper, more lasting change.
Lesson #3. “Sometimes you need to fall off the wagon to want to get back on again.”
Recently, I shared a large, hearty meal with my friend (and PN food photographer) Jason Grenci.
As the meal was winding down — about the time belt buckles started to loosen and regret threatened to creep in — Jay waved his fork in my general direction and, through a mouthful of pickled beets, dropped this insight bomb:
”Nah. There’s nothing bad about this. Sometimes, you need to fall off the wagon to want to get back on again.”
He was right.
Not only is ‘falling off’ a part of change, but it can also make getting back on feel pretty darn good.
Let’s be honest: Few things motivate healthy choices better than waking up with the meat sweats, heartburn, a hangover, or some other uncomfortable form of bodily rebellion.
And even if you feel perfectly fine after having fun, there’s still an intuitive natural shift that winds the party down.
Perhaps taking a short break from more structured, healthy choices allows us to keep making those choices in future.
It’s the way blowing off a workout to sit on the couch, read trashy novels, and drink too much coffee actually gives you that I-can’t-wait-to-hit-the-gym buzz.
Or the way taking a vacation and making full use of the “all inclusive” swim-up bar and breakfast buffet makes you happy to come home, hit the grocery store, and stuff your fridge with green vegetables.
While you might fear that one indulgence will lead to a lifetime of chaos, research shows that we naturally adapt to pleasure in such a way that — assuming we have at least some interest in our own health and fitness, and perhaps the support of a team or coach — we naturally self-correct.
Lesson #4. Healthy indulgence might actually support “deep health”.
Spend a bit of time hanging around Precision Nutrition, and you might hear a phrase called “deep health”.
Deep health means thriving in all domains of life: physical, mental, emotional, social, etc.
Deep health means:
We are physically robust and resilient, able to act effectively in the world and enjoy a high level of physical function.
Our minds are wise, agile, and kind, helping us solve problems creatively and make thoughtful choices that align with our deeper principles.
Our emotions are available to us and used for good — to take action, to signal something that we need to attend to. Overall, our balance of emotions is positive.
We enjoy healthy, strong, affirming relationships and a variety of high-quality social connections.
We are constantly growing and developing, repairing and recovering, strengthening and flourishing, in whatever ways we are able to do so.
With deep health, we are moving in a “life-forward direction”.
By this definition, a “healthy indulgence” is one that is somehow:
meaningful
truly enjoyable
self-fulfilling
life-affirming
We are fully present for this indulgence. We are more alive because of it.
Non-food examples of healthy indulgences include: playing hooky from work to go hiking with your kids, or see that great movie / big game you’ve been dying to see, or get a decadent massage and soak happily in a hot tub.
Conversely, an unhealthy indulgence might be:
meaningless
an empty distraction
self-destroying
life-detracting
An unhealthy indulgence might be going out and getting trashed on crappy-tasting booze that you chug rather than sip, with people you don’t particularly like, who then encourage you to pick up that smoking habit you’ve been trying to kick.
Interestingly, a healthy indulgence often seems to have its own natural resolution.
At the end of a healthy indulgence, we often feel satisfied and content.
Let’s say you’re a parent who works hard, and then healthily indulges yourself with “me” time and rest.
After some delicious sleeping-in while the kids stay overnight at Grandma’s, you pad around the house in your pajamas, yawning happily and lazing over the Sunday paper.
And then you shower, get in the car, and go pick your ducklings up — excited to see them, ready to enter the parental fray again.
You can’t sleep in forever, nor do you really want to. But sleeping in, getting that “you” time, recharges your batteries and comes to a natural end.
Conversely, an unhealthy indulgence often doesn’t resolve. It may even be actively unsatisfying.
We might try to get the “hit” from it over and over with no results, like playing the slot machines repeatedly with no payout, not even enjoying yanking on that lever but feeling driven to do it anyway.
Plus, if we’re caught in a cycle of binge-and-restrict, indulgence can be part of a pendulum that swings back and forth between chaos and rigid order forever.
In this case, “indulgence” might be code for all-or-nothing. You’re either strictly self-monitoring or utterly, bizarrely impulsive and irrational:
ME MAKE CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER WHISKEY CIGARETTE BACON GRAVY MILKSHAKE NOW NOM NOM NOM.
(Of course, compulsive bingeing is not part of deep health and can be hard to break without help from a doctor or therapist.)
In the end, what if we stopped trying to prevent our indulgences, and accepted them instead?
What if we treated “back” or “down” or “off the wagon” periods as a natural and normal part of the entire experience of change and growth?
I mean, look at how commonly people experience these periods. With that level of frequency, isn’t it time we asked whether they’re important instead of just something to tolerate or “get through” on our way somewhere else?
Isn’t it time we examined them, dare I say respected and appreciated them?
What if they turned out to be fuel for our “forward” and “up” periods?
And what if we all ended up healthier, happier, and even fitter, for them?
What to do next: Some tips from Precision Nutrition
Try these next steps to learn to embrace your indulgences in a health-supporting way.
1. Ask the questions.
Consider the following…
What does a “healthy” indulgence look like for you? Why?
What kind of indulgence would enable and promote “deep health” and balance for you?
What kind of indulgence would inspire you, replenish you, and get you back on the path to deep health again?
What does an “unhealthy” indulgence look like for you? Why?
What things leave you unsatisfied, regretful, frustrated, demoralized, and/or feeling “stuck” in negative patterns?
2. Be honest, thoughtful, and grown-up.
Avoid playing mental games like “If I’m ‘good’ then I get to be ‘bad”, or “If I pretend I didn’t eat the cookies, then it didn’t happen”.
Face your behavior with open eyes, maturity, and wisdom.
Accept that all choices have consequences.
Find a framework for reviewing behaviors and consequences, and zeroing in on what’s “OK” and “Not OK” for you, and for the health you’re trying to achieve.
3. Start building a “flight plan”.
Think of yourself as the pilot of your own life, health, fitness, and nutrition. With that in mind, consider…
Where are you trying to get to, and why?
What challenges can you anticipate that might throw you off your ‘healthy’ flight path? What can you do now to prepare for these obstacles and help yourself adapt when they arise?
Who’s your flight crew? Think about who you have (or who you’d like to have) in your life to help you get to where you’re trying to go. We all need support in our lives — so ask family/friends/coaches for help if you need it.
What’s your flight checklist? What systems or strategies do you have to help keep you get back on course after a (planned or unplanned) deviation?
4. Notice the cues and signs that tell you it’s time to correct course.
Ideally, you’ll learn the cues that tell you it’s time to change your path before you’re too far in one direction or another.
For instance:
Perhaps one decadent meal is perfect, but an entire weekend of them will leave you reaching for the Pepto-Bismol.
Perhaps one missed workout every few weeks actually helps you recover, but a string of couch-potato or desk-monkey days will leave you feeling cranky, lethargic, and squashy.
Perhaps a few martinis and some champagne over the holidays feels like celebration, but after the festivities wind-down, those weeknight glasses of wine start to feel like an unwelcome habit…
5. Accept — perhaps even embrace — periods of “back”, “down”, and “nothing”.
Play the long game.
If your general direction is “forward” and “up”, and you are, overall, working on “something”, then maybe cycling is part of the process.
Maybe cycling actively, significantly, helps you.
If you’re a coach, or you want to be…
Learning how to coach clients, patients, friends, or family members through healthy eating and lifestyle changes (including how to accept indulgence) — in a way that supports long-term progress — is both an art and a science.
If you’d like to learn more about both, consider the Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification. The next group kicks off shortly.
What’s it all about?
The Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification is the world’s most respected nutrition education program. It gives you the knowledge, systems, and tools you need to really understand how food influences a person’s health and fitness. Plus the ability to turn that knowledge into a thriving coaching practice.
Developed over 15 years, and proven with nearly 100,000 clients and patients, the Level 1 curriculum stands alone as the authority on the science of nutrition and the art of coaching.
Whether you’re already mid-career, or just starting out, the Level 1 Certification is your springboard to a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results.
[Of course, if you’re already a student or graduate of the Level 1 Certification, check out our Level 2 Certification Master Class. It’s an exclusive, year-long mentorship designed for elite professionals looking to master the art of coaching and be part of the top 1% of health and fitness coaches in the world.]
Interested? Add your name to the presale list. You’ll save up to 33% and secure your spot 24 hours before everyone else.
We’ll be opening up spots in our next Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification on Wednesday, April 4th, 2018.
If you want to find out more, we’ve set up the following presale list, which gives you two advantages.
Pay less than everyone else. We like to reward people who are eager to boost their credentials and are ready to commit to getting the education they need. So we’re offering a discount of up to 33% off the general price when you sign up for the presale list.
Sign up 24 hours before the general public and increase your chances of getting a spot. We only open the certification program twice per year. Due to high demand, spots in the program are limited and have historically sold out in a matter of hours. But when you sign up for the presale list, we’ll give you the opportunity to register a full 24 hours before anyone else.
If you’re ready for a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results… this is your chance to see what the world’s top professional nutrition coaching system can do for you.
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renegadesepiida · 8 years ago
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Something wakes you in the dark. It may be pitch black outside, but a warmth is already on its way through the light material of the tent. The soft, distant chirping of birds works its way into a song that’s being carried on the breeze. Facing the flashlight toward the path ahead, you almost ignore the ground while scanning the nature around you. The tall pine trees, the dark night sky filled with stars, the rock that you just bumped your foot against causing you to stumble and “gracefully” regain your balance (arms circling every which way). Composure recovered you continue to walk forward, still looking up and ahead, but down once every few seconds to make sure that you don’t trip on anything else.
Dirt turns to boulders and sand as you near the water’s edge, but before reaching it you turn and walk down a thin trail up the hill through scattered trees. You can feel it, the sun’s rising. The air is warming, the sky is brightening causing the stars to disappear, and the birds grow louder and more constant. Through the trees you begin to see the sun peak over the mountains. It’s blinding. While letting your eyes focus for a moment behind your hand, the sun continues to rise, chasing the night away, turning the dark into simple shadows. After a long, deep breath you have the peace of mind to continue the day. Walking back down along the trail you find yourself walking backwards in time, where daylight has not reached. Approaching the main path you take another moment to think and choose to continue to the water, to watch the sunrise again, from a different perspective.
The water lapping on the rocks creates its own rhythm. Sitting on the stones gets you close enough to the water to run your fingers through. The clear blue water is cold to the touch, but there is a sense of welcoming felt as the small wave crests shimmer in the morning light. Time seems to stand still until the entire sun has broken over the mountains. Now there is less of a feeling of calm around even though you are still sitting alone. The world is now awake, so you cherish the memory you had just experienced, turn away from the wide-open water, and walk slowly back to camp with the flashlight hanging inactive by your side.
As morning continues adventure calls; the hardest part is choosing between all of the options. That’s why you’re glad that you made a weekend plan.
Option one, Saturday, is rafting and already you can tell it’s the perfect day for it. The breeze has died down and the bright summer sun is drying the air, adding to your desire to get into the water.
It’s a decently short drive to the American River raft loading area and as you wait for the rest of the party to get situated you scoop up some water splashing it in your face and over your head before dipping in your feet. This river run is not a difficult undertaking, only reaching level III class rapids. Most of the 2-5 hours (depending on how many times you want to stop and play in the water) is spent leaning over the side of the raft, soaking your feet, splashing your friends or family, or light paddling to keep moving forward. As you pass by dozens of people and dogs enjoying each others’ company celebrating summer in their favorite ways.
Sometimes though you’ll hit a rock and your sister (or whomever) will drop their paddle in the water. It’ll float far enough away where she can’t reach it, which causes her to say f*@# it and jump in the water. You just laugh during the whole thing as she wades through 3-4 feet of cold water over to the paddle that got caught up in the branches of a bush, which she in turn gets slightly tangled in. As she attempts to climb back in the raft she shoots you a playful glare for laughing and splashes a large amount of water at you. Although it’s slightly bothersome that your clothes are wet, since the wind is picking up again, the water still feels good in the heat so you laugh it off and respond with a bow and a thank you. She’ll get cold soon enough because of her actions (karma haha).
While she shivers we all complete the run and jump back in the car to travel to our campsite. With several hours still left of daylight a decision is made to take a couple hours long hike to Vikingsholm. The large, almost palace-like building was modeled after 11th-century Scandinavian buildings complete with sod roofs, paintings on the ceilings, beams carved to look like dragons, and both antiques and reproductions; altogether creating the feeling of stepping back in time upon entering.
Hiking back you are less concerned about where you are going and instead thinking about arriving, it’s dinnertime and the mere idea of food is calling your name. A bit over half way back you realize that you are not taking these moments to heart. Slowing your pace, you take a look around, at the trees, the flowers, the ferns, the birds, and down the steep hill towards the bay, Emerald Bay. Though you can only see parts of it through the trees the relaxation hits you and, just like in the early morning, you take a long breath through your nose, causing your eyes to close for a moment before releasing the breath and all previous thoughts, if even for a moment.
Although tall pines surround camp, a slight breeze works its way through. The day is slowly coming to a close when you make it back at a perfect time for dinner. In classic camping style, thick sausages are roasted over (and in your case, in) the flames of the campfire. Warm on the inside, partially charred and all-over crispy on the inside, with the smokey smell and flavor, along with all the best fixings, it’s just perfect.
As day turns to night, the campfire keeps burning. Sweaters and jackets are donned in preparation for the final part of the day. With a nice hot drink by your side, a skewer holding a marshmallow in your hand, and the graham cracker/chocolate combo prepped on your leg you are ready to make s’mores. Just like the hot dog you like the marshmallow like you like your volcanoes, outside black and crisp with the inside molten. Dipping the marshmallow in the flame sets the sugar ablaze. Twirling the skewer between your fingers lets the flames crawl upward engulfing the parts that were not yet burning. Raising the candy torch toward your face you can feel and smell the heat. For what seems like another eternity you are watching the flames dance over the blackening marshmallow skin (this might set you up as a pyro-, might want to get yourself tested) before taking a deep breath, blowing it out, and squishing it between the crackers and chocolate. While munching on your treat you listen to your party trading ghost stories, jokes, dirty limericks, and more.
As it gets later and later the campfire is allowed to burn itself out. But before turning in, you hike up to the crest of a nearby hill to get a clear view of the night sky. Without the interference of light the entire sky is clear, all the stars glisten and the Milky Way carries you away along its winding trail. Looking up makes you feel so small and insignificant, but on the other hand, it makes you so happy, so at ease, though you don’t understand why. The shooting stars of the annual Perseid Meteor Shower burn through the night sky. And while you don’t admit to it you close your eyes and make a wish, with all your heart, hoping it will come true.
Option two, Sunday, takes you away from the woods for a while. While Reno-Tahoe is not the most ‘hopping’ place it’s still a bit of culture shock. Buildings and streets? What’s up with that? Too much time won’t be spent wandering through shops, but it’s nice to lose yourself in the art hanging on all the walls. Including the stupidly popular 90’s-retro wolf T-shirts and knick-knacks on all the shelves. Saving on parking fees your party walks across the California-Nevada state line, passing the Pony Express statue, across a street into a world of tall, stone buildings and concrete. Entering a casino and seeing people around you constantly losing at the slots always made you wonder why anyone would throw money away like that, ‘but I guess we all have our vices’. Lunch at the Hard Rock Café is the annual tradition, but it ends and there is time to enjoy the outdoors again. If you all thought ahead and brought warm clothes then time can be spent at the lake itself, if not *sigh* you have to go back to the camp site to retrieve them.
On the Sand Harbor of the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest you wait eagerly for the Shakespeare play to open. The sun is not close to setting, it was still hot, and you wished that you could be swimming, jet skiing, kayaking, or paddle boarding on the crystal blue lake in front of you. Anything to keep busy. But, as you don’t have another change of clothes, you practice your rock jumping skills and maybe take a decent picture of the downward inching sun. Once the “doors” open your “dinner” can be picked up, since you’re still full from lunch the meat and cheese plate that your party preordered is plenty for all. In the stage area chairs are set up on the sandy hill from which you can get a beautiful view of the lake and watch the sun FINALLY go down. Now the play can begin. Comedy or tragedy, it doesn’t matter, Shakespeare always wrote the most human stories and the theatre is the best way to experience it.
Even though the visuals of the play are entrancing, the sky is more so. Even with the lights of the stage the stars are still easily visible and you watch the shooting stars just as you did the night before. With wonder for the universe and having Shakespeare’s words in the background the incredible notion of how much there is under that sky enters your mind. How much have these stars seen? Billions of years in existence and you are only here for an inconsequential amount of that time. It spurs you on, if you have only this, then get as much out of it as possible.
                                                                                                                                                                                       I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with what I want to write about, what I can share. So I am diving back into my childhood, to my family’s eventual annual tradition of summer camping in Lake Tahoe. Every camping vacation is different but if you are going to stay in Lake Tahoe there are things that have to be a part of the trip.
I just want to put out that there are many, many camping areas around the lake but my favorite is Emerald Bay. It’s secluded and perfectly woodsy, but easy to get to with any kind of car. And the camp areas are set up, and have communal flushing toilets with sinks. Now a’ days I would much rather backpack to keep away too many people, but then there are better trails for that elsewhere. Keeping to the theme though, Emerald Bay has the perfect views of the lake, the night sky, and great hiking trails. Plus, since it’s easy to get to you can easy have day trips to rivers nearby for rafting, Reno for a different kind of party, to Nevada’s Sand Harbor Theatre for the Lake Tahoe Shakespeare Festival, or anything else you could imagine!
  Hiking
Campfire
Rafting
Lake Trips
Reno (for wandering and lunch)
Shakespeare Festival
  *https://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=506
*http://www.truckeeriverrafting.com/index.php
*https://www.visitrenotahoe.com/
*http://laketahoeshakespeare.com/
Camping Lake Tahoe Something wakes you in the dark. It may be pitch black outside, but a warmth is already on its way through the light material of the tent.
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oovitus · 7 years ago
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The benefits of overindulgence. (And the 4 key lessons that eating too much can teach you).
New clients often come to us feeling guilty and weak after a holiday season, a vacation, or a long weekend of overeating. Our response often surprises them. Because we know that there are some surprising benefits of overindulgence and key lessons that eating too much can teach.
++++
Thanksgiving. Valentine’s Day. The first big summer BBQ. A family reunion at the beach.
Throughout the year, new clients come to us feeling guilty and terrible about eating (and drinking) too much at [insert the latest festivity here].
With a cocktail of regret, shame, and resolve to “do things better”, they tell us how “bad” they’ve been. And how ready they are to shape up once and for all.
Our response often surprises them.
Because it’s not, “drink water” or “get more fiber” or “focus on clean eating”.
It’s actually:
Maybe you needed to overindulge.
Record scratch.
Why would a health, fitness, or wellness coach ever say that?
Because overindulgence has several important — and vastly underrated — roles to play in the bigger picture of health, fitness, and nutrition.
Here are four of them:
Lesson #1. “Slipping up” is a necessary part of change, progress, and success.
We often imagine change or “progress” as a linear graph, like this:
Every day, we get better and better, until eventually we’re perfect, fit, godlike creatures who’ve Got Everything Together.
In reality, change and progress look more like this:
We wholeheartedly embrace better food choices for a bit, then eat macaroni and cheese for a week, then ace our new habits for a while, and then a business trip throws us off for a minute, then we’re back on the horse…
From week to week or month to month, our cycles and rhythms are like a Slinky (or a coil) that’s been stretched like this:
We try something new and move forward, or upward, bubbling with excitement and energy.
Then we cycle. Life throws us a situation that tests our new approach. Progress pauses, or dips downward, or goes backward.
Up, down, forward, back.
There are a number of perfectly good reasons for this:
Maybe we need to go back to re-open or revisit something — to reconsider an idea that didn’t grab us right away, or address a question we avoided answering when first asked.
Maybe we need downtime — to think, reflect, regroup, reboot, or incubate something new.
Maybe we need to regress briefly — to dip into our old selves or old habits and remember why we are building new ones, like visiting an ex to remember why you left them.
Maybe we need to repeat something — to practice, drill, and/or test our skills under different conditions.
Or maybe it’s that we simply don’t have the skills yet to reach the next level of our progression and, like everything else in life, we need to accept that doing things badly is a necessary precursor to doing them well.
Regardless of the reason, weight loss progress can stop or even go the opposite direction. And that usually happens on the tail end of a stretch where we’ve put our exercise regimen on hold, or dived into a week-long food orgy.
That’s why almost every weight loss graph looks like this.
The trend is headed in the right direction, but the day-to-day and week-to-week fluctuations feel turbulent.
But that’s not because every single person trying to lose weight sucks, has no discipline, and can’t do weight loss correctly.
Rather, based on our experience with nearly 100,000 clients and patients, it seems like dips, plateaus, and everything in between are actually necessary.
Both physiologically and psychologically.
Perhaps that’s why they’re so normal.
Which leads us to…
Lesson #2. Indulgence offers an opportunity to ask the bigger questions (and learn some stuff).
Our indulgences — even the ones we ultimately regret — can serve as amazing learning opportunities, if we let them.
Oftentimes, new clients feel ashamed when they feel they’ve overindulged. They just want to hide from their “mistake” and “start over”.
Instead, we encourage them to use overindulgence as the impetus for self-reflection.
This practice helps them get into the habit of observing and learning from what’s going on in their lives and bodies (rather than judging and self-shaming).
For example, we might ask:
What job is indulgence (or celebration, or reward) doing for us?
How important is that for our lives?
What kind of person are we when we’re indulging?
What is good about not doing anything differently?
Clients are often (rightfully) confused when we ask these kinds of questions.
“What could possibly be positive about this?” they want to know, pointing to empty ice cream cartons and a recycling bin full of beer cans.
But here’s the truth: We do the things we do for a reason.
That indulgence, no matter how big or regrettable, is doing a job for us. It’s somehow solving a problem for us, even if not very well.
Recognizing how our behaviors serve us — even “bad habits“ like four cocktails with a junk food chaser — can help us put resistance aside, stop hiding, and see things more clearly.
What need is the indulgence is fulfilling?
And what would be a more valuable/health-affirming way to fulfill that need?
Though it might seem counterintuitive, cutting our bad habits some slack and acknowledging what role they play for us, can actually lead to deeper, more lasting change.
Lesson #3. “Sometimes you need to fall off the wagon to want to get back on again.”
Recently, I shared a large, hearty meal with my friend (and PN food photographer) Jason Grenci.
As the meal was winding down — about the time belt buckles started to loosen and regret threatened to creep in — Jay waved his fork in my general direction and, through a mouthful of pickled beets, dropped this insight bomb:
”Nah. There’s nothing bad about this. Sometimes, you need to fall off the wagon to want to get back on again.”
He was right.
Not only is ‘falling off’ a part of change, but it can also make getting back on feel pretty darn good.
Let’s be honest: Few things motivate healthy choices better than waking up with the meat sweats, heartburn, a hangover, or some other uncomfortable form of bodily rebellion.
And even if you feel perfectly fine after having fun, there’s still an intuitive natural shift that winds the party down.
Perhaps taking a short break from more structured, healthy choices allows us to keep making those choices in future.
It’s the way blowing off a workout to sit on the couch, read trashy novels, and drink too much coffee actually gives you that I-can’t-wait-to-hit-the-gym buzz.
Or the way taking a vacation and making full use of the “all inclusive” swim-up bar and breakfast buffet makes you happy to come home, hit the grocery store, and stuff your fridge with green vegetables.
While you might fear that one indulgence will lead to a lifetime of chaos, research shows that we naturally adapt to pleasure in such a way that — assuming we have at least some interest in our own health and fitness, and perhaps the support of a team or coach — we naturally self-correct.
Lesson #4. Healthy indulgence might actually support “deep health”.
Spend a bit of time hanging around Precision Nutrition, and you might hear a phrase called “deep health”.
Deep health means thriving in all domains of life: physical, mental, emotional, social, etc.
Deep health means:
We are physically robust and resilient, able to act effectively in the world and enjoy a high level of physical function.
Our minds are wise, agile, and kind, helping us solve problems creatively and make thoughtful choices that align with our deeper principles.
Our emotions are available to us and used for good — to take action, to signal something that we need to attend to. Overall, our balance of emotions is positive.
We enjoy healthy, strong, affirming relationships and a variety of high-quality social connections.
We are constantly growing and developing, repairing and recovering, strengthening and flourishing, in whatever ways we are able to do so.
With deep health, we are moving in a “life-forward direction”.
By this definition, a “healthy indulgence” is one that is somehow:
meaningful
truly enjoyable
self-fulfilling
life-affirming
We are fully present for this indulgence. We are more alive because of it.
Non-food examples of healthy indulgences include: playing hooky from work to go hiking with your kids, or see that great movie / big game you’ve been dying to see, or get a decadent massage and soak happily in a hot tub.
Conversely, an unhealthy indulgence might be:
meaningless
an empty distraction
self-destroying
life-detracting
An unhealthy indulgence might be going out and getting trashed on crappy-tasting booze that you chug rather than sip, with people you don’t particularly like, who then encourage you to pick up that smoking habit you’ve been trying to kick.
Interestingly, a healthy indulgence often seems to have its own natural resolution.
At the end of a healthy indulgence, we often feel satisfied and content.
Let’s say you’re a parent who works hard, and then healthily indulges yourself with “me” time and rest.
After some delicious sleeping-in while the kids stay overnight at Grandma’s, you pad around the house in your pajamas, yawning happily and lazing over the Sunday paper.
And then you shower, get in the car, and go pick your ducklings up — excited to see them, ready to enter the parental fray again.
You can’t sleep in forever, nor do you really want to. But sleeping in, getting that “you” time, recharges your batteries and comes to a natural end.
Conversely, an unhealthy indulgence often doesn’t resolve. It may even be actively unsatisfying.
We might try to get the “hit” from it over and over with no results, like playing the slot machines repeatedly with no payout, not even enjoying yanking on that lever but feeling driven to do it anyway.
Plus, if we’re caught in a cycle of binge-and-restrict, indulgence can be part of a pendulum that swings back and forth between chaos and rigid order forever.
In this case, “indulgence” might be code for all-or-nothing. You’re either strictly self-monitoring or utterly, bizarrely impulsive and irrational:
ME MAKE CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER WHISKEY CIGARETTE BACON GRAVY MILKSHAKE NOW NOM NOM NOM.
(Of course, compulsive bingeing is not part of deep health and can be hard to break without help from a doctor or therapist.)
In the end, what if we stopped trying to prevent our indulgences, and accepted them instead?
What if we treated “back” or “down” or “off the wagon” periods as a natural and normal part of the entire experience of change and growth?
I mean, look at how commonly people experience these periods. With that level of frequency, isn’t it time we asked whether they’re important instead of just something to tolerate or “get through” on our way somewhere else?
Isn’t it time we examined them, dare I say respected and appreciated them?
What if they turned out to be fuel for our “forward” and “up” periods?
And what if we all ended up healthier, happier, and even fitter, for them?
What to do next: Some tips from Precision Nutrition
Try these next steps to learn to embrace your indulgences in a health-supporting way.
1. Ask the questions.
Consider the following…
What does a “healthy” indulgence look like for you? Why?
What kind of indulgence would enable and promote “deep health” and balance for you?
What kind of indulgence would inspire you, replenish you, and get you back on the path to deep health again?
What does an “unhealthy” indulgence look like for you? Why?
What things leave you unsatisfied, regretful, frustrated, demoralized, and/or feeling “stuck” in negative patterns?
2. Be honest, thoughtful, and grown-up.
Avoid playing mental games like “If I’m ‘good’ then I get to be ‘bad”, or “If I pretend I didn’t eat the cookies, then it didn’t happen”.
Face your behavior with open eyes, maturity and wisdom.
Accept that all choices have consequences.
Find a framework for reviewing behaviors and consequences, and zeroing in on what’s “OK” and “Not OK” for you, and for the health you’re trying to achieve.
3. Start building a “flight plan”.
Think of yourself as the pilot of your own life, health, fitness, and nutrition. With that in mind, consider…
Where are you trying to get to, and why?
What challenges can you anticipate that might throw you off your ‘healthy’ flight path? What can you do now to prepare for these obstacles and help yourself adapt when they arise?
Who’s your flight crew? Think about who you have (or who you’d like to have) in your life to help you get to where you’re trying to go. We all need support in our lives — so ask family/friends/coaches for help if you need it.
What’s your flight checklist? What systems or strategies do you have to help keep you get back on course after a (planned or unplanned) deviation?
4. Notice the cues and signs that tell you it’s time to correct course.
Ideally, you’ll learn the cues that tell you it’s time to change your path before you’re too far in one direction or another.
For instance:
Perhaps one decadent meal is perfect, but an entire weekend of them will leave you reaching for the Pepto-Bismol.
Perhaps one missed workout every few weeks actually helps you recover, but a string of couch-potato or desk-monkey days will leave you feeling cranky, lethargic, and squashy.
Perhaps a few martinis and some champagne over the holidays feels like celebration, but after the festivities wind-down, those weeknight glasses of wine start to feel like an unwelcome habit…
5. Accept — perhaps even embrace — periods of “back”, “down”, and “nothing”.
Play the long game.
If your general direction is “forward” and “up”, and you are, overall, working on “something”, then maybe cycling is part of the process.
Maybe cycling actively, significantly, helps you.
If you’re a coach, or you want to be…
Learning how to coach clients, patients, friends, or family members through healthy eating and lifestyle changes (including how to accept indulgence) — in a way that supports long-term progress — is both an art and a science.
If you’d like to learn more about both, consider the Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification. The next group kicks off shortly.
What’s it all about?
The Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification is the world’s most respected nutrition education program. It gives you the knowledge, systems, and tools you need to really understand how food influences a person’s health and fitness. Plus the ability to turn that knowledge into a thriving coaching practice.
Developed over 15 years, and proven with nearly 100,000 clients and patients, the Level 1 curriculum stands alone as the authority on the science of nutrition and the art of coaching.
Whether you’re already mid-career, or just starting out, the Level 1 Certification is your springboard to a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results.
[Of course, if you’re already a student or graduate of the Level 1 Certification, check out our Level 2 Certification Master Class. It’s an exclusive, year-long mentorship designed for elite professionals looking to master the art of coaching and be part of the top 1% of health and fitness coaches in the world.]
Interested? Add your name to the presale list. You’ll save up to 33% and secure your spot 24 hours before everyone else.
We’ll be opening up spots in our next Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification on Wednesday, April 4th, 2018.
If you want to find out more, we’ve set up the following presale list, which gives you two advantages.
Pay less than everyone else. We like to reward people who are eager to boost their credentials and are ready to commit to getting the education they need. So we’re offering a discount of up to 33% off the general price when you sign up for the presale list.
Sign up 24 hours before the general public and increase your chances of getting a spot. We only open the certification program twice per year. Due to high demand, spots in the program are limited and have historically sold out in a matter of hours. But when you sign up for the presale list, we’ll give you the opportunity to register a full 24 hours before anyone else.
If you’re ready for a deeper understanding of nutrition, the authority to coach it, and the ability to turn what you know into results… this is your chance to see what the world’s top professional nutrition coaching system can do for you.
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