#my bookmark list keeps shrinking

[taikoturtle]

Just found two more deleted bookmarks on my ao3 favorites and I’m so sad. I don’t know which ones they were, but they were from 2017 so it was an older one. Maybe a POI or power rangers fic I think.. 😢

I’ve gotten in the habit of downloading fics but man… still hurts.

[unculturedmamoswine]

Fiddauthor Recs

Ya want a Fiddauthor rec list??? You got it. This is just some fiddauthor I have in my bookmarks, in no particular order. I’m not adding warnings, so pay attention to the tags and such. If a fic is a WIP, I’ll let you know. And please DO add your own recs in comments or reblogs, especially if you know of fics that aren’t on AO3!

 If you read these fics, please consider leaving kudos and comments for the authors!

We’re Still Here by hellmandraws

Not fic, but a fan comic starting with college fiddauthor and going all the way through post-series. So great and really worth a read!

rumination: a guided tour by gesso (1.9k words)

Author’s summary: For all the words, expressions, languages he knows; for all the intelligence, experience -- sometimes it's just easier to show, rather than tell. And maybe that means using the mindscape to just pull up very specific memories in a certain order. Because Stanford Pines would much rather take the most convoluted route possible, especially if that means he can avoid plainly talking about his emotions (past and present). [Unlike the other drabbles in this series, this is not complete, and cuts off kind of abruptly at the end of the draft I have]

This fic is sooo worth a read. Technically a WIP, but don’t let that dissuade you.

Somnus Idigus by Abyssalzones (2k words)

Author’s summary: It's hard to sleep, still, nearly a full year after Bill's defeat. Ford manages to be coaxed to bed by kind words and gentle hands, and wonders just what he did to deserve this kind of understanding. (AKA: Ford has nightmares, keeps trying to put off sleep, Fiddleford manages to lovingly wrangle him to bed.)

Sooo sweet! The exact kind of post-canon snuggly Fiddauthor fic I need in this world!

Intricate Rituals by HazelnutofFortune (1.5k words)

Author’s summary: “Fiddleford,” Ford says. He hates asking for help. 

“Mmm?” Fiddleford asks, looking up, scalpel still raised. 

“ Um, could you show me how to get at that big clump next to the Aorta?” How humiliating. Why did he even ask. Except-

“Well, sure,” Fiddleford sets down the heart and takes Ford’s a little gingerly. My heart is in his hands, Ford thinks. Fuck. 

Extremely cute! A WIP! College Fiddauthor and Ford is soooo smitten.

Jersey Boy by Fordtato (110k words)

Author’s summary: Ford does not want to be at Backupsmore University. He should be in California, at West Coast Tech, showing the world that he's more than a freakish waste of space from Jersey; showing the world that he's more than the scrawny, brainy half of a dynamic duo. He's angry, sure, and he's sure-as-fuck tired of being just one-of-two-Stans.

But who isn't angry right now? The world is in turmoil, they're sending our boys to Vietnam and if it wasn't for this stupid school, Ford would have probably been sucked into the draft himself.

But then he meets Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and everything is different now.

A slowburny fic that really digs into the historical side of college Fiddauthor. It doesn’t shrink away from the tougher, uglier stuff that being a poor, gay, Jewish college student in the seventies would mean for someone. Features an angry, confused Ford who is having a Hard Time. Also has a whole host of interesting OCs! Also a WIP. This fic takes a turn or two that I really didn’t expect and I’m very excited to see where it goes, as the author is on record saying that they WILL finish it.

if you love me, come clean by Athgalla (105k words)

Author’s summary: This is pretty much just a collection of various moments and possible events throughout Fiddleford and Stanford's relationship that I felt like exploring, starting with their first proper meeting in college on to post-Weirdmageddon events.

Without further ado, on to the tragically star-crossed nerds!

iylmcc spans Ford and Fidds’s first meeting through post-series. It’s so interesting, and so sweet, and has so many wonderful details! Just a great take on their relationship that you deserve to read, dear reader. Treat yourself!

Maybe It’s Not Too Late by GinAndShatteredDreams (main fic is 82k words, whole series is 110k)

Author’s summary of the main fic: Overall: A post-weirdmageddon asexual Fiddauthor fic in which revelations occur, a confession goes awry, some unfinished business reemerges in the form of a raging pterodactyl, and chaos ensues. (vaguely romantic - hugs/hand holding/cuddling/comfort, no kisses - just adding that so I don't disappoint anyone who's hoping for it - or maybe for the sake of people (like me) who sometimes like to read something without ;))

(Edit - No romantic kisses. There's a forehead kiss between family members at one point.)

*It would probably be good to mention that most of this was written before the journal came out and even after, I tried to keep true to the ideas formed before reading it with one exception that is noted later.

So as you can tell, I linked you the whole series. A both super angsty and very sweet fic with wonderful asexual post-series Fiddauthor! I’ve never read anything quite like it, totally check it out.

Romance is Overrated and Living Confusing by 3HobbitsInATrenchcoat (25k words)

Author’s summary: Stanford and Fiddleford started out as college roommates and over the years grew into something more than friends but just to the side of what others would consider a "normal relationship." But honestly, is it really anyone's business what they are as long as they care deeply for each other?

Scenes from Stanford's life as he tries to figure out where he fits in a world built for romance and traditional family dynamics.

This fic is restricted– you need an AO3 account to read it. Also, it’s part of a series, but the other fic is Stan-centric so it’s not a part of this rec list. Aaaand also it’s a WIP. Okay, with that out of the way, this is another Ace!Fiddauthor fic, which you know I’m all about! This fic is more about college and research-aged Fiddauthor, and it’s as delightfully fraught as you could hope. The author also does a cool thing regarding Fiddleford’s time in Oregon, while still keeping it canon-compliant. My hat is off to them.

To Struggle For Dreams And To Hunger For More by Voidfish (8k words)

Author’s summary: “Am I gay?” Ford reads the quiz out loud, before clicking to begin. To his frustration, most of the questions are simply asking him if he has had sex with men (he hasn’t), if he wants to (he isn’t quite sure), or if he ever will (the jury is still out). Nothing defines attraction, no one clarifies if the burn in his stomach is love or gastrointestinal issues, and nothing leaves him feeling any better on the subject.

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Stanford Pines has never loved a woman but, he realizes with a painful jolt, he can’t say with certainty he’s never loved a man.

Aaaaaa I love this fic. I love it sooo much. Post-series and Ford is trying to figure out his sexuality and his feelings for Fidds. Plus a scene where he comes out to Stan! Just a delight.

And Shifty Makes Three by Sarelle (13k words)

Author’s summary: Ford Pines and Fiddleford McGucket deal with the ups and downs of relationships and parenthood in 1970s Oregon. A task not much aided by the fact they have to keep secret the true identity of their shapeshifting alien grub son, from friends, family and the Feds.

Based on WDW's Shiftyverse, can be read as a standalone.

I fucking LOVE this fic!! Aaaaa the little details about Ford and Fidds and their relationship! Their alien son!! This fic is so up my alley it’s bonkers.

queer clan in the middle of the woods by toosolidcuuj (series is 23k words)

Author’s summary of the series: *to the tune of "our house" by madness* queer clan in the middle of the woods, queer clan in the middle of the

Canon-divergent AU in which Stan and Ford make up, adopt an alien, and gradually amass an extended queer family.

This is ALSO a Shifty-adopting fic! With Fiddauthor! This one also has Stan, and focuses a lot on Stan and Ford fixing up their fraternal relationship in addition to the Fiddauthory bits. I haven’t reread it in a hot second but I remember it being very fun but also taking Shifty’s trauma quite seriously, which I thought was interesting and cool to read.

(There's a) Half moon rising in southeastern skies by orphan_account (17k words)

Author’s summary: A series of memories, all compiled in convenient cinema-reel format. It’s all here, folks, the good, the bad, the sexy, the emotionally distressing. Next to nothing left out.

Sad that this fic was orphaned– I love it. It’s in second person, and I’m all about that! Fiddleford looking back at his fractured memories post-series and also reconnecting with Ford. Absolutely wonderful characterization. Author, if you’re out there, I love this fic!! I hope you are happy with it in your heart!!

Syncing Phases by toosolidcuuj (5k words)

Author’s summary: Stan has gone his whole life never imagining he had a twin, let alone an android twin who can shoot cannons out his hands, makes money appear out of thin air, and has a close relationship with a werewolf named Fiddleford McGucket. Even more surprisingly, FORD needs Stan's help erasing a world-ending computer virus. But BILL has allies in many places, leaving the Stans uncertain who they can trust.

WIP. This fic is SUCH a fun and interesting concept!! Only child!Stan, Werewolf!Fidds, Robot!Ford??? Yes, please! A totally unique fic that is so fun to read!

[mallorykeen]

do u have any percabeth fic recs? i know ur a magnus person but ur pjo/hoo bookmarks are spot on in terms of my taste so 🙏🏻

i only have a few that i've read and bookmarked after my last fic rec list but here:

losing dog

how cruel it is, she thinks, that the boy who won't live past 16 is crying on her bathroom floor scared that she might die. she wonders if in that moment, percy feels the same ache she’s been trying to suppress for the past 3 years. (or in which annabeth does their mission alone causing her and percy to finally talk some things out over a one night truce)

On Heists and Home Economics

Over the last few days, Annabeth has spent a great deal of time imagining what was stolen, what could cause Percy and the Stolls so much antagonism and strife. She imagined valuables and prized possessions and even—thanks to Malcolm—something as ridiculous as an engagement ring.  But never, not once, had she considered the possibility of a baby doll. Because who in Hades would? “That wasn’t just some children’s toy!”  And Annabeth can feel it. She can feel Percy's rage bursting forth with his words—a pressure that whips through the pavilion like the briny wind of a sea storm. It's something primal, she thinks. Something desperate. So when Percy rises to his feet, climbing and cresting like a tidal wave, Annabeth doesn't blame the Stolls for shrinking toward the floor. If she didn't know Percy so well, she would do the same.  “That doll,” Percy grits out, “is worth fifty percent of my Home Economics grade!”

Boyfriend Points

Annabeth didn't realize that "boyfriend points" weren't literal, so she made an entire Excel spreadsheet devoted to keeping track of the points Percy earned when they first got together. She casually mentioned it to Percy while they were studying in the library one day, confusing him immediately.

Sapphic Fic Rec List

MCGA Fic Rec List

[brothersapart]

Oh wise ones!! Have you ever read some multisize or extreme-sized (sfw, obviously) writings? If so, can you guys recommend some?? (spare serotonin pls-)

Oh, man. This actually brings back a ton of memories because I was obsessed with extreme sized g/t ideas (big big fan of this kind of scenario in sci-fi).

The weird part is I do also have trouble finding fics myself to read. Most of the stuff I obsessed over was my own ideas and since I was much younger, I hadn't gotten to the point where I wrote any of it down. I went digging through my bookmarked stories, and found what I could.

If anyone else has stories to add to this list, please do! I know we have a few extreme size difference fans out there.

The Incredible Shrinking Winchester by myself, where Sam's shrinking starts again while he's already borrower sized, only this time it just keeps going and never stops (on the shorter side, originally done as a prompt)

Tiny Intruders by Phoenix-FireMage over on Deviantart, fascinating story about finding very very small intruders and a way to communicate with them.

Deanzilla vs Hydros by nej47, a classic. Dean probably reaches skyscraper sized by the end. There is a sequel, but be warned it's more graphic than the first one, and also involves shrinking along with growth.

One book I read a while back is by an author I knew from Deviantart. She wrote a similar idea to my incredible shrinking Sam story, where the main character one day begins shrinking and just keeps going. It reaches some of the more difficult limits of interaction in g/t, so if you have a few spare bucks lying around ever, I recommend picking this one up:

The Promise by CE Wilson

I have more distant memories of some horror stories that had cosmic g/t in them, but I can't honestly remember where they were found, and I haven't been able to dig them up in my own favorites. If I managed to figure out where they were, I'll add more to the list!

Please feel free to rb and add your own

[rinnysega]

Have you ever read the Encanto fanfic “Futuro” by ZenyZootSuit. It gives the same vibes as the “Precipice” but it is after the movie and Bruno isn’t taking anymore shit from anyone (*cough*alma*cough*) but not in a out-of-character kind of way.

Each chapter is set in each of the characters’ perspectives, so they have more depth to them. Also, the villagers become more than just being spoiled.

It’s a contradiction of family-filled & fluffy and heartbreak & pain.

I think you’d like it. 👍

Thanks for the recommendation! I've bookmarked it at added it to my reading list.

I need to start setting more time aside to read fics because my list keeps growing and my time keeps shrinking lol

[hp-fanfic-archive]

an introductory rec list (that no one asked for) to some of my favorite ships: wolfstar [1/10]

First fic I read for the pairing: Where Rain And Smoke Mingle by smallestbird [1k,T] It doesn't matter if they've disowned you, they're still your family. It doesn't matter how often you walk away, it still hurts. [it’s a bit dreary, but the writing style is so nice and i’m a big sucker for hurt/comfort]

Fic that really sold me on the pairing: Of Brothers and Boyfriends by Amuly [38k,E] There’s no summary on the fic, but, essentially, Remus and Sirius’s secret relationship gets found out and things get… complicated. (warning for homophobia) [My note on my ao3 bookmark pretty much sums up how I feel about this fic: Honestly one of my favorites (and one of the stories that really got me hooked on Wolfstar tbh) and I've read it at least eight times. However, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the homophobic James Potter (even though he does come around).]

Absolute favorite fic(s) for the pairing: Text Talk by merlywhirls [141k,Not Rated] Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number. (warnings for homophobia, mentions of abuse, and homophobic language) [One of the earlier fics I read and it’s always just been one of my favorites, even though it’s been 3 years since I read it for the first time.] Harry Potter and the Live Laugh Love Sign in the Basement by loudestfandomsoftheworld [24k,T] Harry spends his summer with his fugitive godfather and his former professor who is a jobless werewolf. It's probably the best summer he's ever had. [The humor, the characterizations, their relationships, it’s all so fucking perfect!!] Go East [+Podfic] by xinasvoice [84k,E] Remus has been running for a long time. Eventually, he runs into a strange castle built by a wizard and his young apprentice. The longer he stays, the more secrets he uncovers...and the less he wants to leave. This is a novel-length adventure story that loosely follows the plot of Howl's Moving Castle. It does not require knowledge of the HMC book or movie to enjoy it. [it made me laugh, it made me cry, and it’s plot is based on one of my all time favorite movies? 11/10] Of Queries and Quarantines by MoonCat457 [51k,E] LUPIN.RJ: James, WHY? POTTER.JF: Because you’re the one currently doing the job, so it makes sense that you’d be the one to train the person hired to take your place. LUPIN.RJ: No, I mean why is Monty hiring a new editor in the middle of a fucking pandemic? POTTER.JF: An old friend of mine is in a tough spot and needs a job, so of course, dad is helping him out. - - - - OR A story set in the middle of the pandemic in which Sirius is hired at the Potter’s publishing company and Remus is responsible for training him. Lots of texting, lots of video calls, lots of mutual pining, and a lot of really bad literature quotes. [i’ve largely avoided quarantine au fics, but sometimes they’re so well-written and hilarious and also a texting fic and i accidentally fall in love with them, so here we are.]

Most recent fic I’ve read for the pairing: There Is No Man, However Wise by enigmaticblue [87k,T] It’s 1988, Sirius has Harry, and possession is nine-tenths of the law. [i adore a good raising harry au and i also adore the premise of the series this is in and i also adore the writing story and characterizations. 10/10]

Favorite AU(s) I’ve read for the pairing: High School AU: Likewise Variable by ssstrychnine [28k,T] James has plans, Peter is the nurse, Sirius keeps fake blood up his sleeves, and Remus just tries to stay alive. [i first read this fic in 2017 and it still lives rent free in my mind. it’s hilarious, a perfect characterization of the marauders (even tho it’s a muggle modern high school au) and adding shakespeare? just icing on the fucking cake. it’s excellent.] University AU: Wannabe Your Lover by Maraudererasmut & shadow_prince [15k,M] Somewhere in America, Fall of 1997 - Returning to University, James refused to room with Sirius in the wake of The Great Cheez-it Battle of '96. They must adjust to living with someone new, Mr. Potter worried they'd both get scurvy, James unsuccessfully continued trying to court one Lily Evans, Snape got what was coming to him, and Sirius was the most confused of them all. [this is the university experience we all wish we had, lowkey. aside from the hilarity that comes from having the marauders in a fic, it’s just cute and well-written and i love it (and southern remus??? it’s everything i never knew i needed.] Alternate Sorting AU (Slytherin Remus): Half Agony, Half Hope by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe [21k,E] A tale wherein Sirius Black loses 750 House Points for Gryffindor. But it’s totally worth it. [listen, if, before i read this fic, you asked me if remus could’ve been a slytherin, my answer would have been “perhaps but probably not.” now, however, yeah. 100%. it’s hilarious, it’s novel (which i love to see), but it’s still the same remus and sirius and it’s excellent.] Haunted House AU: Another Day in the Sun by REwrites [19k,T] Is it haunted? I suppose that depends on who is telling the story. [really really excellent and a little haunting (pun entirely intended). it’s romantic and sweet and a little bittersweet but i adore it.]

WIP(s) I really love for the pairing: We Were Infinite by WolfstarPups90 [336k,E] “The Marauders aren’t something that will just go away once we graduate.” James continued, taking a more serious tone and addressing not only Remus, but the fear that they all had found recently in the back of their minds about what may become of them outside the walls of Hogwarts. “We’re a family. We’ve proven that again and again, haven’t we? We’re forever. Unstoppable. We’re infinite.” The full story of The Marauders from September 1st 1971 - October 31st 1981. (Heavily centered around Wolfstar and Jily in later chapter) [the first WIP i ever read (usually i stick to completed works, but this was being pretty regularly updated when i started reading it and also it’s fucking iconic so what can i say?)] Of Leaves and Stars by irrationalmoony & LadyAmina [273k,T] Almost a year out of Hogwarts, Lily finally manages to convince Sirius and James to get more acquainted with muggle technology and buy phones. Sirius, of course, texts the wrong number. [everyone is queer! (as they well should be). also: is it complete? no. has that stopped me from reading it twice? also no.]

Favorite Series for the pairing: TransVerse by picascribit [30k,E,2 works] Canon-divergent AU in which Remus is a transgender boy instead of being a werewolf. (warnings for underage, transphobia, internalized transphobia, bullying, self-harm) [i am a trans remus stan and this series is iconic, but also heed the tags kids.]

Longest fic I’ve read for the pairing: Once in a Blue Moon by FullMoonDreams [408k,M] In a world where Remus never received his Hogwarts invitation and Sirius wasn't accepted by the Gryffindors the two lonely boys become friends. A story beginning in their first year, and continuing right through Hogwarts and beyond. RLSB. [this fic emotionally ruined me,,, but like,,, in a good way, you know? i will probably never reread it because i cried for hours the first time, but the plot does live rent free in my mind (and i do have a playlist of songs that remind me of it).]

Fic(s) with some of my favorite tropes: Matchmaking: Pining, Parchment, Plotting, and Pranks by KayBee1762 [12k,T] “Idea parchment,” James said. He unfolded it and smoothed it out. “You want to get them together, right? That’s why you came to me?” “Yeah,” Lily huffed, which was ridiculous because he was right, that’s why she came to him. But it was supposed to be her idea, because she wanted to help her dear friend Remus, not James or Sirius. But it was so nice to be able to talk about this with someone, and James looked so pleased and excited. “Good,” James said. “Good, because they need to get together, they would be so happy and so good together, and Sirius will stop sighing like a lovesick puppy and just snog him instead.” In which Lily considers changing Houses, James blushes a lot, Sirius is his usual dramatic self, Remus mopes, and Peter knew everything all along. [the marauders (especially james and lily) trying to play matchmaker is one of my favorite instances of the classic matchmaking trope.] Road Trips + Bed Sharing: Of Comets and Counter-Examples by Woldy [5k,T] If the past is a foreign country, can travel help to resolve a troubled history? Dumbledore assigns Remus and Sirius a mission to explore three European cities, or perhaps to find each other. [a lovely tale of travel, reunions, comfort, friendship, and self-rediscovery. plus, travel, bed sharing, and friends to lovers??? yeah] Matchmaking (again): In The Middle by Blossomwitch [3k,Not Rated] James is the natural confidant of both Remus and Sirius. When they both swear him to secrecy on the same topic, James is stuck watching his friends pine for each other without being able to say a word to bring them together. A lesser man might shrink from the challenge of finding a way to break his promise without breaking his promise, but not James Potter! [i already did a matchmaking trope fic i know but what can i say other than the trope fucking slaps and so does this fic.]

[theolddarkmachine]

Imaginary - Chapter Fourteen

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Also on AO3

A/N: I’M SO SORRY Y’ALL. I REALLY DON’T HAVE ANY OTHER EXCUSE FOR THE DELAY IN UPDATE OTHER THAN I SUCK AND TIME GOT AWAY FROM ME TToTT I’m gonna promise to do better, especially since time management is on my list of things to be better at for this year of my life. but please bear with me its 29 years of procrastinating we’re working against

***************************************

An all consuming warmth slowly drags Katsuki to the very edge of his consciousness, settling him in the soft, hovering glow between wake and sleep. He can’t remember the last time he woke so slowly, so easily. Normally awakened by the sudden cascade of another day jarring him, he almost isn’t certain he hasn’t fallen into another dream as the gentle crest of awareness brushes across his senses.

Humming deep in his throat, he stretches long, enjoying the click and pull of his joints as they pop. A tickle of breath dances across his shoulder as a soft sound to his side shakes through the slow melt of his consciousness. Nails scratch gently at the center of his chest as the hand there twitches with it’s own slow realization of the morning.

Cracking his jaw around a yawn, Katsuki finally lets his eyes flutter open against the pale sunlight. His vision gets lost amongst a forest of green curls that lay fanned out on the pillow beside him.

A shiver dances across his skin with the sudden memory of the night before.

The way Midoriya had looked up at him, with constellations trapped in the evergreen of his stare, and moonlight tangled in his hair.

The way he’d moaned his name, reverent and soft, like something sacred, as he’d etched the very emotion he felt deep into Katsuki’s skin.

The heat of his skin that still lingers on his own, burning him with an inescapable fire that Katsuki wishes would turn him to ash.

It pushes a dangerous feeling through him, tangling it around the spaces of his bones and guts, leaving Katsuki wrapped up in everything that Midoriya is.

Everything that Katsuki could wish and dream and hope to have.

The expanding emotion pushes at the edges of his mouth until he feels a slight smile settle on his lips.

Midoriya’s hand slides slowly from where it’s placed over Katsuki’s heart, leaving a heated trail in its wake as he makes a small, upset sound before pushing his face further into his pillow. He watches in shameless amusement as Midoriya rolls his shoulders, the movement rippling through the muscles of his back. Katsuki thinks of how desperately he wishes to place a kiss right at the top of his spine as Midoriya lets out another low groan.

He thinks he just might, at least, until another small sound catches him off guard.

“Katsuki,” he slurs into the pillow before huffing a small, barely there laugh. Turning to face him, Midoriya opens his eyes. The breath leaves Katsuki’s lungs in a quick breath as he sees the way the morning light turns his eyes impossibly bright.

Quickly connecting the freckles that speckle the bridge of his nose, Katsuki commits the moment to memory, coveting it like a thief.

“Morning,” he gruffs after a long pause, trying his best to ignore the way his voice is tempered. The bite in it is all but erased in the early morning sunlight.

Another moments passes before Midoriya’s brows pull together, leaving his face cast in a shade of confusion.

“Cat got your tongue, nerd?” He laughs, wolf’s grin scrawling across his face. Midoriya ignores him as he pulls his gaze away, turning his body as he looks out toward the room as if in search of something. The silence around them presses in on Katsuki as he watches him cock his head.

“Deku?” He asks, just as Midoriya speaks in a small, confused voice, “Kacchan?”

The cold lick of shock skitters down his spine as he shifts, pressing himself forward until he’s settled in front of Midoriya, ignoring the way his gaze settles just over his shoulder.

“This isn’t funny, I’m right here,” Katuski growls low, praying that it’s just some joke. But he knows. Can already feel the truth as it settles at the center of his chest like a crushing weight.

It’s just like before any of this began. How it was always supposed to be.

He can’t see him.

“Izuku,” Katsuki whispers. It’s vain, he knows, hoping that his name might break whatever terrible curse has rendered him invisible to him once more. He watches as the brightness in Midoriya’s eyes fade as they continue to track back and forth across the room, his shoulders slumping forward as if in an attempt to shrink down into the bed.

An aching chasm splits Katsuki’s sternum as Midoriya sighs. Falling back into his pillow, he trains his gaze upward toward the ceiling.

The corners of Katsuki’s lips twitch downward as he carefully pushes himself off the bed. Grabbing at his clothes that litter the floor, he pulls them on deftly, making quick work of the task before slipping out of the room.

With each step he takes away from the door, Katsuki feels the dark pit at the center of his chest pull wider and wider as he tries not to think of the green eyed man he’d left alone. Balling his hands into fists, he takes the stairs down, doing his best to ignore the lingering memories that cling to them like ghosts.

At the bottom, he turns into the kitchen. Spotting a stray piece of scrap paper and a discarded pen, he quickly jots down a note.

Sorry, Deku.

Forgot I had a work thing, and didn’t want to wake you up.

See you later?

Katsuki is all too aware that that might be a lie, but he has to say it. Needs for Midoriya to believe it to be true.

He needs it to be true.

Swallowing thickly, Katsuki gives it one last look over before scrawling a large K at the bottom. Gently, he leaves it at the center of the counter so it can’t be missed before making his way out of the kitchen.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he looks up them, the void in his chest finally reaching its widest point as he traces the shadows. Unleashing his sigh, Katsuki turns away, and sees himself out.

***

One day Katsuki is going to burn down the solid oak doors of the Administrator’s office, if only so that he can erase their taunting existence from the face of this Earth.

He doesn’t know when they had become such a big part of his life, but now, standing before them once again, he can’t help but feel like their the gates to Hell. It didn’t help that the only reason he was there yet again was the ominous note stuck to his apartment door that stated he needed to report in as soon as he returned.

Nothing good ever followed a sterile note like that.

Katsuki has half a mind to not go in. Just ignore the directive all together and pray to whoever he could get to listen for the best. What could they do to him anyway?

Fire him?

“You going to head in there, or are you going to just have a staring contest with the door?” Mina’s voice is bright from where she sits at the receptionist desk.

She must be filling in for that extra, Katsuki thinks as he rolls his eyes.

“Shut it, Pinky,” he growls, anger bleeding into his voice as he keeps his eyes trained firm on the office doors.

“No can do, Hot Head. As the receptionist for the day, it’s my solemn duty to keep things rolling,” she replies, the laughter in her voice barely disguising the concern nestled between the gaps of her words. “And you, are not rolling.”

Giving another noncommittal growl, he shrugs, not bothering to turn his attention to his friend. Mina means well, she always means well, and for some reason, that only pushes the anger through his veins faster.

“Anything you want to talk about?” She pushes, letting her cheery facade drop as she sighs.

Even if it was something he wanted to talk about, Katsuki knows it wouldn’t do any good. It’s not like he even fully understood what was going on, so how could anyone else help anyway.

The silence seems to be all the answer Mina needs as she makes a small sound at the back of her throat.

“Must have really liked this assignment, huh?” It almost sounds like pity, which stings all the more. Bristling at the understanding sadness, Katsuki keeps his eyes forward as she continues, “we all have that one that’s harder to let go than the rest.”

Leaving and never coming back starts to sound more appealing as the quiet thickens around them.

“Never thought it’d happen to you though,” Mina says lowly, almost as if it’s an afterthought. The statement pushes low laugh between his teeth. It tastes as bitter as it sounds.

“You and me both,” Katsuki replies curtly before finally reaching for the handle. “Now if you’re done playing reception therapist, I’ll be going in now.”

He can only imagine the way she shakes her head as he pushes the door open, her quiet words at his back as he steps through the threshold.

“I’ll be here if you need me, Bakubro.”

His gaze finds Toshinori easily, his bright yellow suit a beacon from where he sits at his desk with his nose pressed deep into a book. Letting the door click quietly shut behind him, Katsuki watches as the Administrator continues to read, seemingly unaware of the new presence in his office.

He looks the same as every other time, forever frozen as this leading figure of the company. Once upon a time, it had been inspiring. Toshinori was a certified hero as far as Best Friends go.

But now, there’s something solemn about the realization.

Katsuki takes a steadying breath as he slides his gaze down toward the desk and the plain folder that sits at its center.

“You aren’t tired of seeing me, yet?” He grumbles by way of introduction. A small smile curls the edges of Toshinori’s mouth upwards as he slowly places a skinny bookmark in the spine of the book, then closes it with a snap.

“Ah, young Bakugou, I wasn’t sure you’d ever walk through that door,” he fires back good-naturedly. Even wrapped in the Administrator’s kind teasing, it still strikes like a knife. Growling low, Katsuki steps further into the office until he’s standing before his desk.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Toshinori offers, his voice a shade too close to a command as he gestures toward the bean bag chair. Spine stiffening, it sets him closer to the edge as his stare sharpens on the man before him.

“I think I’ll stand, thanks,” Katsuki counters as he folds his arms across his chest, obstinance rolling off him in waves. His mood has soured beyond the point of no return, and all he wants to do is head back to the warmth of the Midoriya household and forget that he doesn’t belong in their world for just a little while longer.

A sudden flash of Midoriya’s jade stare looking through him cuts across his thoughts, turning his blood cold as Toshinori sighs.

Setting his book down on the side of his desk gently, he keeps his gaze down as he trades it for the folder. Katsuki focuses on the way his hands toy with its edge, but never actually opens it.

“Midoriya Eri,” the Administrator hums, keeping his attention down as he bends the corner of the folder back and forth. “Age 4, adopted. Almost a victim of human trafficking. Taken in by the lead police officer on the case. Shy.”

A small spasm rolls across Katsuki’s eyelid as he listens to Toshinori recite the words from memory.

“I know what Eri’s file said,” he cuts in, trying to ignore the quick pace of his heart as it beats its staccato rhythm against the inside of his chest. “Do you want me to finish?”

The tone of his voice causes Toshinori to pause, his thumb frozen at the folder’s edge as he finally looks up. There’s something buried deep in their dark depths, and it turns his gaze sad in a way that punches deep into Katsuki’s stomach.

Tsking loudly, he turns his gaze toward the wall just behind the Administrator’s shoulder.

He can still see her file so clearly in his mind. It hadn’t painted an accurate picture of Eri at all. He hadn’t liked it then, and he certainly doesn’t like it now. Now, he prefers the Eri that he’s come to know. The one with the sunshine smiles and bright laugh.

Another smile he prefers wanders across his mind on the back of a stray thought.

“Concerned she may be a burden on her adopted father,” Katsuki grinds out as he tries to shake the phantom smile from his mind.

“Do you know what her file reads now?” Toshinori asks. The man speaks low and slow, yet it still fills Katsuki with dread as he cuts his stare back toward him, meeting Toshinori’s stare head on.

“No.” The word falls from his lips, heavy and sharp. It’s an answer, but also a command. One that the Administrator ignores are he starts to speak once more.

“Midoriya Eri. Age 4, adopted. Almost a victim of human trafficking. Has a cheery disposition. No longer questions where she belongs.”

“Stop,” he hears himself say.

No, plead.

Katsuki knows what’s coming next. It’s always the same, but it’s never felt like this. Like there’s a black hole deep inside his chest and its sucking away every bit of him, tearing through his flesh and guts and leaving nothing in its wake.

“Status: No longer requires an imaginary friend,” Toshinori says, ignoring him. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing ache, Katsuki balls his fists under his arms, letting his nails cut deep into his palms, if only so that the new biting pain will ground him.

“When?” He asks pointedly, throwing as much vehemence into the single word as he can.

For the first time, in his existence, he finds that he hates the Administrator, and his kind gaze. Hates this job, and hates the never ending loss.

Before the Midoriyas, he’d never noticed it all before. Never quite seen that as an imaginary friend, he was doomed to a life of never moving forward. Frozen at this point, he would never be able to keep any of the people he met in his life.

This job, and everything that he was fated for, was to help other move forward with their own lives.

But who was supposed to help him?

“When?” Katsuki snaps again when Toshinori doesn’t answer quick enough. It charges the room with a brittle sort of unease before the man sighs and places the folder back on his desk.

“Your last day with her is Sunday,” the Administrator says before pushing the folder across the desk and toward him. “Your next charge.”

Ignoring it, Katsuki shakes his head, finally unwinding his arms and slamming his hands down on the desk. The loud boom of his palms cuts sharply through the otherwise quiet room.

“No,” he snarls. “She still needs more time.”

I still need more time.

Toshinori’s gaze turns sorrowful as he gently shakes his head in return.

“I’m sorry, young Bakugou” he says gently, “but you need to tell them goodbye.”

Recoiling as if his words had burnt deep into his skin, Katsuki can’t seem to swallow down the sudden burn of bile at the back of his tongue.

Them.

“You knew,” he manages to push through his teeth. It’s an accusation, bold and heavy as it weighs on his tongue.

“How did you know?” Katsuki continues, voice pitching louder. The Administrator’s pause seems to stretch for a small eternity before he rests his elbows atop the desk and settles his chin on his hands in thought.

His eyes flash with the overhead lightning as he flicks his gaze up toward him.

“This isn’t the first time an adult has been able to see one of us,” Toshinori says, not acknowledging the lack of shock on Katsuki’s face at the admission. Giving a small nod at the revelation, he puts more weight onto his elbows.

“I was close friends with Shimura Nana,” he starts to explain before cutting himself off with a small, huffed laugh and a short shake of his head. “We were best friends. But a week into her last assignment, her charge’s father acknowledged her.”

He already know how that file reads too.

“The friendship was terminated,” Katuski finishes, watching close as the Administrator just nods.

“A new friend was assigned, and the Administrator in charge of the case moved forward as if nothing happened,” Toshinori adds, even though Katsuki can tell that he knows he already knows.

He can feel it in the way he watches him close. Almost as if imploring him to understand something.

“What happened to her?” Katsuki asks. There hadn’t been any further information in the file about Shimura Nana, and what had happened to her after the strange occurrence. Even after he’d gone back to flip through other files, Katsuki had never found any other mention of Shimura Nana again.

Another stretch of silence rolls between them before the man leans back in his seat, hands falling down to his desk in defeat. His sigh is heavy as he pushes the ignored folder a bit closer toward Katsuki.

“If you wish to continue as you are, you need to tell them goodbye,” is all Toshinori says in answer.

It’s a dismissal, one that forces a sharp snarl from Katsuki’s throat as he snatches the folder. Shoving it underneath his arm, he turns quickly on his heel.

Not bothering to say goodbye to the Administrator, he storms through the doors, a dull satisfaction tickling around the void in his chest at the loud sound of the heavy oak slamming shut behind him.

Ignoring the sound of his name as Mina calls out to him, Katsuki marches angrily to his apartment on autopilot. It isn’t until he finds himself in his darkened entryway that he finally feels a coolness settling over his skin.

With a low growl trapped at the base of his throat, he throws the folder into the darkness of his apartment before throwing his fist into the wall.

**********************************

[vesuvianist]

Better Left in the Dark

“I don’t recall any of those stories having good endings.” “I’m not really looking to argue with you, Muriel. You asked what I’m doing and I told you.” “So you don’t think what you’re doing is wrong?” “I thought that was obvious.”

Broken by his distress, Asra turns his grief into macabre determination. However, when Muriel pushes for answers, Asra finds himself backed in a corner. The truth hurts, and more often than not, it hurts everyone involved.

Inspired by the Din Zine.

Hi folks! This is kinda my debut into the arcana fandom so I hope you guys like it. With a little luck and motivation there will be much more to come!

Stop by AO3 and leave a kudos!! ❤

Blood of a basilisk, for cunning. Bone of a stag, for rebirth and vitality. Claw of a manticore for strength and willpower. Asra ran through the ingredients filed away in his head while he scoured his shelves for more of them, setting what he could find on the table. He had lists of ingredients stored in the shop and in his memory, finding similar metaphysical properties, and connecting them for later use.

The entire back room of the shop had been transformed into his own testing space. Books of correspondences, jars of ingredients both common and rare, bottles and cauldrons and bowls, pages bookmarked and note cards spread across the walls with colored threads tied to the nails that held them there. It looked like a mad house behind that curtain, less than a week after his return from the Lazerat. His days were spent pouring over books, and nights like this were spent finding how it all worked in practice, in the comfort of a sleeping city.

Faust had grown increasingly distraught over Asra’s behavior in that time. But the young magician was too determined to let it distract him. She was curled around his arm, just out of a desire to be close to him; while he scrubbed the remaining flesh from the skull of a deer he had been soaking in water to clean. Faust gave a small squeeze to remind him that she was there. It was her only hope of stopping him from going completely out of his mind. Although he noticed her concern and felt guilty for not accepting her offering of calm companionship, he was too focused.

Asra?

No response, but he did give her a brief glance.

Worried…!

“I know.”

Rest?

“I can’t right now,” he says curtly, shaking his head. “Stop distracting me, I can’t concentrate with your nagging. Either keep quiet or go curl up in your basket.”

His tone was sharp, and it caused Faust to stiffen in surprise as she stared at him. Then, slowly she dropped her gaze and rested her head on his arm instead. Guilt quickly washed over Asra and he put the skull back into the bucket. He stood up and went to rinse his hands in the kitchen sink and with his newly freed hand, he pried her gently off his arm to hold her in both hands.

“I’m sorry,” Asra walked to the papasan couch behind the table, seating himself down and curling up with Faust on his stomach. “I know you’re just trying to care about me.”

Asra looked decades older than he actually was. His eyes were ringed with sleepless nights, his skin had an ashen, faded pallor to it, his hair was unwashed and his waistline slowly getting smaller the longer he went without eating a full meal. The months since he left Vesuvia had been taxing. She had every reason to be worried. And he knew that, deep down.

Forgive.

As he gently scratched under Faust’s chin and let her head fall against the crook of his arm, there came a delicate rapping against the door, startling both of them. He stood up, Faust sliding across his shoulders before Asra strode to the door to see who had interrupted him while the shop’s lamp clearly hadn’t been lit for months.

The smell of myrrh registered before Asra had even turned the handle, and his annoyance quickly melted away. He hadn’t even considered the fact that no complete stranger would know Asra was in the shop. He looked up at Muriel, forcing a tired smile.

“When was the last time you slept?” Muriel asked, not even stepping into the shop yet.

Asra answered without missing a beat. “I took a nap this morning.” He conveniently left out how long the nap had been, since shutting his eyes for twenty minutes while reading about how daisy roots were used in ancient ressurective rituals obviously didn’t count.

“And ate?”

“About an hour ago.”

“How much?”

“Enough. Muriel, I’m fine. ”

Muriel looked at Asra dubiously. He didn’t respond, but his feelings were clear in his eyes.

“It’s kind of late. Did you need something?”

“To check on you.”

“Well, there you have it. I’m alive and well, and busy so...”

Perhaps his tone was sharper than it should’ve been, because he instantly regretted his dismissive words. Muriel was clearly only there out of concern for Asra’s wellbeing. So, Asra stepped aside to allow Muriel to enter, sighing softly. “Come on in, let me make you some tea.”

The instant Muriel entered, his expression was scrunched up with disgust. “...Why does it smell like a dead animal in here?”

Asra stopped mid-stride to look at Muriel and then side-eyed the bucket that sat just outside the closet. Asra had been storing the bucket in there all day to soak the skull. Opening a window would risk letting the smell of blood out so he mostly just kept it there with the closet door closed with a towel under it. Now that it was open while he was working on cleaning the skull, the pungent iron stench had flooded the ground floor of the shop. Honestly, he’d gotten used to it, and could hardly notice it unless he was sitting over the bucket like he had been earlier.

“I’m...cleaning some animal bones. The ones I used to have are missing.”

“...”

Asra kept walking into the kitchen to put a pot of water to boil. Muriel didn’t sit down.

“It’s nothing serious. Just for inventory purposes.” he said, trying to reassure Muriel. But he knew Muriel didn’t buy it. There were ways to get to the bones that were much less offensive to the senses. Asra pulled out a chair from the dining room table and settled into it, looking up at his friend with another tired smile.

“Why so rushed?”

“I’m just impatient.”

“Impatient for what?”

“What’s with the interrogation?” Asra tried to laugh, but it was clear that the conversation was beginning to stress him.

“...You’ve been avoiding people.”

“So is every other person in Vesuvia, if they’re stupid enough to stay. I’m surprised you’re not hiding at home again.”

“This is different, Asra. You’re grieving.”

That caused the tension to rise. Asra had not done a lot of reflection on his actions following his return. None, in fact. He was too busy reflecting on his actions before his return. Both the cards and The Magician had told him he was acting without enough forethought. But he was too invested. Too desperate.

“You’re hiding something.” Muriel pressed on, causing Asra to heave a sigh and lean on the table. He knew he owed Muriel the truth, at the very least. Muriel was his closest friend and confidante. Always had been. He watched the hulking man for a moment. Eventually, he relented.

“I’m...attempting necromancy.”

Muriel remained silent, so Asra continued.

“I want to contact Death to ask for guidance on a ressurection ritual.”

Muriel didn’t speak for a long time, and when he did, there is a very heavy weight to his voice. “...You’re making a mistake.”

“That’s an opinion, and you’re entitled to it.”

“Asra...you’ve been hiding all of this. For nearly a week now. You know as well as I do it’s a mistake.”

Asra couldn’t help the sudden swell or rage that began to brew within him. “I’m making things right again.”

“You don’t have to make anything right. There’s nothing wrong to begin with. You can’t change the past..”

“Yes I can.” Asra snapped at him, and he could feel Faust squeeze his shoulders.

Calm.

Before he could try to apologize, Muriel finally spoke his mind.

“This project...you seem to be letting it consume you.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Asra sighed, sounding unmoved. “I have a lot of research to do, a lot of things to try and practice. Things that take time, and I don’t have lot of it to spare.”

“You need to slow down.”

“I can’t slow down,” he argued, standing up as the pot began to boil, going to set the tea to steep.

“It’s a very stupid idea to raise the dead.”

“It’s not impossible, it’s been done before.”

“I don’t recall any of those stories having good endings.”

“I’m not really looking to argue with you, Muriel. You asked what I’m doing and I told you.”

“So you don’t think what you’re doing is wrong?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Well, you haven’t spoken to me since your return, and you’re trying to hide whatever you’re doing by doing it at night when you’re less likely to be caught.”

Asra turns around, exasperated. “I’m not hiding because I’m less likely to be caught . Contacting an Arcana is a specific and demanding process.”

“...That sounds more like an excuse than anything else.”

“You don’t understand—I don’t expect you to, either. I have to do this.”

“...You really don’t.”

“Who else will? Who else cares?”

“No one.”

Asra gestures a hand, confirming his point, and returns to pour the tea out of the pot and into a couple of mugs.

“You shouldn’t care, Asra.”

The words caused a shift in the atmosphere. Asra stopped pouring, and Faust seemed to shrink a little bit, ducking beneath his sash. Although Muriel was right, it still stung Asra, deeply. He wanted to care. Regardless of the consequences.

Asra carefully set down the pot before he spoke again, voice low and holding a sharp edge. “I think maybe you should go. Before we both say things we’ll regret.”

“...”

Asra turned and left the kitchen, walking over to the short stool next to the closet that held the bone bucket. He pulled the skull out of the murky, soapy water and continued the scrubbing of the stubborn pieces of boiled tissue. Muriel slowly lumbered over to him, standing next to the closet.

“Asra…”

He didn't look up. “Yes?”

“...They wouldn’t have wanted this.”

The young magician took a deep, audible breath to quell whatever vicious words were about to be released. He slowly lifted his head and regarded Muriel with a cold scowl that radiated spite.

Muriel didn’t look ashamed of his words. Nor did he look guilty. But his eyes held an impatient sort of worry, like Asra was a child that would not listen to reason. Asra looked back down at the skull, scrubbing harder.

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

He dropped the skull violently back into the bucket, standing up again. “You’re not succeeding in persuading me, if that’s your intention. The only thing you’re doing is frustrating me. I don’t have time for your mothering and I definitely don’t have time to listen to you preach.”

“...”

Without another word, Muriel turned and left, the front door shutting with a note of finality. Asra slumped back down into the stool, wiping his hands on his pants before lifting his arms to hold his head and prop his elbows onto his knees. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. Bringing a soul back from the dead with a disorganized conglomeration of correspondences that might or might not have even produced anything. Calling an Arcana who might or might not help him. It was becoming an impossible delusion. He couldn’t keep doing this.

Faust peered out from under his sash, and he could feel her concern begin to roll through him in waves. It did nothing but fill him with more guilt. Tears began to flood his eyes and he inhaled sharply, letting his hands drag down his face.

Big friend is right...

Her affirmation caused the dam to break, and Asra sobbed quietly. His head hurt terribly. His heart ached in his ribs, and his body was sore from constant tension and little rest. He was pouring all of himself into this damnable venture, and it was taking a significant toll on him and everyone around him. But he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t let himself. He couldn’t .

Faust gave Asra’s shoulders a gentle, comforting squeeze, but it didn’t soothe him. No amount of physical comfort could, not right now. He only wanted one thing. He wanted them back.

He would give anything in the world to get them back.

[anythingstephenking]

Disney Princess Metaphors Galore

It’s been over a year since I picked up a King novel. Over the course of that year, I sat with Sleeping Beauties on my coffee table, bookmark neatly tucked in at around the 200 page mark, daring me to pick it up, mocking me as I didn’t. 

Sleeping Beauties was a slog, to put it nicely. I didn’t dislike it per-se, but having to literally force yourself to pick up a book after a year on the sidelines is never a great start. 

Co-penned by King and his son Owen, this novel has all the fixings for a strong King. We’ve got a small town. They’re isolated. There’s lots of characters of varying degrees of badness. A mysterious illness and force has infiltrated this small town and shit goes sideways. If these fixings of dough, sauce, meat and cheese came together to make a pizza in The Stand and Under The Dome, in Sleeping Beauties, these ingredients make a calzone. Not bad, just not pizza. And unless you’re Ben Wyatt, pizza is better than a calzone.

I’m on a diet, can you tell?

Alright, let’s get into it. Steve and Owen decided to write a novel together, which is fun if your dad is Stephen King. I believe it was the pretty standard collab of “I write some then your write some”, rinse and repeat until there’s over 700 pages for The Constant Reader. The cast of players is bulleted out on the pages before you get started, and man, is the list long. Really only 4 or 5 folks are of any consequence to the story though, which is a great example of calzone-not-pizza happening here.

So women across the world are falling asleep and once they are out, their faces and bodies grow cocoons. They’re still breathing and seem fine, just catching some ZZ’s. The unidentified growth is nicknamed Aurora, for the titular character in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. We know we’re in a King story though, because these gals don’t need a prince’s kiss. In fact, if you tear open their sheaths, they will literally bite your head off. Many men die early trying to awake their maidens, not realizing they are in an episode of The Walking Dead, not in a 50s cartoon.

It’s not an uninteresting premise, and I do understand where they were going with it. It’s a gender study for the 21st century, using metaphor after metaphor from women’s movements over the centuries. I get it. Perhaps I am struggling because it was written by two men. Side question; what does Naomi King do? The rest of the family are all writers; I might feel better if she wrote this with her dad. Mental note to google her.

Because in Sleeping Beauties, men BAD, women GOOD. As a staunch feminist, this shouldn’t bother me? It does. I feel like Steve and Owen swung the pendulum too far in favor of the female sex. Listen, I am one. We’re not always a walk in the park. Just sayin.

The women are primarily pretty saintly here. The town sheriff, Lila, stays awake as long as she can, protecting her town, as do other female policewomen, mothers and prison guards. Cause yes, our little town is home to, of all things, a women’s prison. 

As women fall asleep, the world erupts into pure chaos. This I believe. Men riot, burn shit, there’s rumors of nuclear explosions, the whole 9 yards. It takes like literally 48 hours for the world to go to hell in a hand basket. Who’s going to cook food and wash laundry?? Better storm the Capital. (The irony of Jan 6th happening after this book was written is not lost on me).

Lila’s husband Clint is the least-worst of all the dudes. The on-staff shrink at the prison, he is trying to keep the prison from erupting into chaos (spoiler it doesn’t, because its a women’s prison, and women GOOD) and keeping an eye on their new prisoner, Eve, who, after killing 2 meth heads (men), is sent to a holding cell. Here Eve sleeps without cocooning, and talks to rats, and sometimes hundreds of moths fly out her mouth? Cool.

Aside from Clint, there are some real shitheads here. Men who burn their wives, men who try to rape cocooned women, men who make jokes like “What is this, the worlds worst PMS?” and say shit like “women are either sluts or frigid”. Cool. I’m not gunna talk about any of the supporting players of douchery, because for the most part they end up dead. Men BAD.

About halfway through, we learn when the women sleep in our world, they have awoken in some kind of bizarro-world. It’s their town of Dooling, but time is different (faster) and it’s pretty post apocalyptic. But because women GOOD, they console each other, consider their circumstances together, and then get the fuck to work. While only a few days have passed in the real world, in Women’s World months pass. The women rebuild society together, with very few obstacles to overcome. I mean in theory, if you told me I could go to sleep and awaken in a women’s-only Upside Down, I’d be very tempted to escape there. But I don’t think I’d expect a utopia. I mean I’ve watched the first season of Yellowjackets at least 3 times now; I’m not sure it would be so easy.

Women’s World just seems too easy. Sure it’s post-apocalyptic there, but there’s vegetables, roaming deer, and at least the remains of an infrastructure for the women to start from. They get the electric going thanks to solar panels, water flowing again thanks to a broken down but fixable water plant, stuff like that. The obstacles are small in Women’s World, for example, they have very bad coffee there. I would never survive. But the women thrive without men. Men decidedly do not thrive without women. The most literal extreme in both places.

Eve is the puppet pulling the strings here, and the story is much more interesting when she is around. Unfortunately she’s not around enough for my liking. And while she survives act 3’s assault, she loses her cause when the women of Dooling choose to return to the real world, leaving behind utopia for the boys back at home.

The final chapter or two are ultimately the most interesting. The women have returned and life is “back to normal” although nothing is normal ever again. Have women regained the upper hand, knowing that the globe’s male population now understands their importance? Seemingly hopeful ending? My cynical self says give it a generation or two and Eve may be back to try her experiment again.

If anything, this book left me pondering not its outcome, but reminding me that I am due for a rewatch of The Leftovers.

6/10

First Line: Ree asked Jeanette if she ever watched the square of light from the window.

Last Line: A moth flutters from the branch of the old oak tree and settles on her hand.

Adaptations:

There has been a part or two of a comic adaptation released. AMC owns the TV rights, purchased in 2019, although I couldn’t find any movement on an actual pilot. In COVID and #MeToo times, I would think this gender based plague-esque story would be ripe for picking, but per usual, no one asked my opinion. 

More Holly Gibbney next in The Outsider, and an HBO series I’ve been sitting on for two and a half years. Yay!

[ssportlive4]

Make-at-Home Ramen Jiro Regular Version.

Hello everybody, I hope you're having an amazing day today. Today, we're going to make a special dish, make-at-home ramen jiro regular version. It is one of my favorites. For mine, I am going to make it a bit tasty. This will be really delicious.

Make-at-Home Ramen Jiro Regular Version is one of the most well liked of current trending meals on earth. It's simple, it's quick, it tastes yummy. It is appreciated by millions daily. They're fine and they look wonderful. Make-at-Home Ramen Jiro Regular Version is something which I have loved my whole life.

To begin with this recipe, we must first prepare a few components. You can have make-at-home ramen jiro regular version using 26 ingredients and 24 steps. Here is how you cook it.

The ingredients needed to make Make-at-Home Ramen Jiro Regular Version:

{Get of Fresh Ramen Noodles (enough for 750 g of dough).

{Make ready 116 grams of x 3 ○Strong bread flour.

{Get 54 grams of x 3 ○Cake flour.

{Get 72 ml of x 3 ○Water.

{Take 7 grams of x 3 ○Salt.

{Prepare 3 grams of x 3 ○Bicarbonate of soda.

{Prepare of Soup.

{Get 1 of ◇Pork belly on the bone.

{Take 1 of +2 liters ◇Water.

{Make ready 1 clove of ◆Garlic.

{Make ready 25 grams of ◆Cabbage cores.

{Take 10 of cm ◆Green portion of Japanese leeks.

{Take 1 pinch of ◆Ginger.

{Prepare 1 of +80 grams □Pork fatback.

{Prepare of Meat sauce baste.

{Get 250 ml of ▽Soy sauce.

{Make ready 75 ml of ▽Mirin.

{Prepare 100 ml of ▽Sake.

{Take 2 grams of ▽Salt.

{Prepare of Toppings.

{Get 1 of +300 grams ◆Pork.

{Get 1 of +2 leaves ●Cabbage.

{Prepare 1 of +4 packages ●Bean sprouts.

{Take 1 of ◎Minced garlic.

{Prepare of A must for authentic Jiro Ramen.

{Prepare 1/2 tsp of per bowl ☆ Umami seasoning.

Steps to make Make-at-Home Ramen Jiro Regular Version:

Make the noodles with the ○ ingredients. You can make about 2 servings at a time using a normal bowl. Make it in several batches or use a large container..

Once the dough is complete, make the noodles, and let ferment for about a week. About 2~2.5 mm thick noodles look authentic, but cut them to your liking..

Remove the blood from the pork belly bones, and boil in hot water for 20-40 minutes. If you don't do this prep work, then the color and taste will be bad..

Wash the pork belly bones clean, break apart and add to the pot, with 2 liters of water. Bring to a boil. I think there won't be a lot of scum, but discard any that comes out..

Once scum has stopped seeping out, transfer to a pressure cooker, and set the switch. If cooking on the stovetop, keep a steady heat..

After cooking for about 2 hours in a pressure cooker, check the pot contents. A lot of oil will have rendered out of the pork belly bones..

Removing this pork marrow broth will lighten the soup base and discard the smell, but also will remove the umami from the vegetables. You could discard it if you prefer, but if you're using it, just lessen the amount of backfat..

Repeat Steps 6 and 7 once more, and ideally cook down for about 4 hours. When there is not enough water, add in more so you are not heating the pot without water..

Prepare the pork. If you don't mind the shape, then you don't need to tie it up with butcher's twine. Use shoulder roast, belly meat, or a block..

The sizes of the pots at my work and the ones I have at home are different sizes. The amount of ingredients listed above for the vegetables is sufficient. You won't get the aroma of the pork belly bones if you add too many veggies..

The aroma of the ginger is strong, so this uses an extremely small amount. If using tubed ginger, use about 5 mm. When using fresh ginger, use the photo as a reference (about a quarter size)..

Add in the ◆ ingredients (included the pork meat), and cook again. Cooking for 25 minutes when using shoulder roast or 30 minutes when using pork belly meat is ideal in a pressure cooker (Reserve this for the broth in Step 15)..

Prepare the basting sauce and add in the cooked pork. Heat the meat and cool it down more than once, sealing in the meat flavoring..

If you marinate for too long, the flavor will become too strong, so take it out once you think it's done (taste and see. Store the meat and the basting sauce (now soup base) for later..

If you have the time, boil down the broth for longer. (The one shown in the photo has been cooked for about 8 hours)..

Next, add in the back fat. When using as a topping, It will shrink more than you think, so add in lots (I used 120 g in the photo)..

Cook for 45 minutes even when using a pressure cooker. It is convenient to make it together and store the cooked bits in a container..

The amount of soup needed changes depending on the toppings used, but it may be best to prepare 1.1 - 2 liters for 3 bowls..

In truth, you need 3 gas burners to make the best Jiro Ramen. (I ideally want four)..

Prepare the noodles and vegetables by boiling in separate pots, and boil the soup as well or boil the vegetables in the soup..

Add the sauce, back fat and umami seasoning into a bowl. From here on, work quickly..

Warm up the veggies. In winter, just put them on top, the hot soup will cook them. Aadd them in right after noodles finish boiling..

After you have boiled the noodles to your desired firmness, completely drain the water. Add broth and the noodles. Top with pork and vegetables, and it is done..

Adjust the spiciness, amount of grease, and amount of veggies to your liking! The toppings are big so it hard to see, but it has 1.5 bags of bean sprouts..

So that's going to wrap this up with this special food make-at-home ramen jiro regular version recipe. Thank you very much for your time. I'm sure you can make this at home. There's gonna be more interesting food in home recipes coming up. Don't forget to bookmark this page on your browser, and share it to your family, colleague and friends. Thanks again for reading. Go on get cooking!

[cardsvistas]

12 Important Facts That You Should Know About Credit Card Statement Example | credit card statement example

Getting a acclaim agenda has its advantages. Acclaim cards are acceptable for authoritative purchases, and some alike action rewards on what you spend. What’s more, a acclaim agenda can be a accessible apparatus for architecture a absolute acclaim history. If you’re attractive for your aboriginal acclaim card, it’s important to accept how they assignment and how to use them to your advantage.

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A acclaim agenda allows you to accomplish purchases and pay for them later. In that sense, it’s like a concise loan.

When you use a acclaim agenda to accomplish a purchase, you’re about application the acclaim agenda company’s money. You afresh pay that money aback to the acclaim agenda company, with or afterwards interest, depending on the timing of your payment.

Your acclaim agenda aggregation gives you a acclaim absolute you can accomplish purchases against. This absolute will be based on things like your acclaim score, income, and anniversary history. As you allegation purchases to your card, your accessible acclaim shrinks. As you accomplish payments adjoin your balance, you chargeless up accessible acclaim again.

Each month, you’ll accept a anniversary assuming your anniversary activity. This anniversary includes:

The minimum acquittal due is the aboriginal bulk you accept to pay for that month. But it’s consistently a acceptable abstraction to pay added than the minimum if you can.

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Your agenda anniversary will additionally acquaint you how abundant it will bulk you to pay off the antithesis over time with interest. You can abstain absorption accuse on acclaim agenda balances by advantageous your bill in abounding during the adroitness period. A acclaim agenda adroitness aeon is a set time period, about 20 to 30 days, that you accept to pay off contempo purchases afore absorption starts accruing.

If you don’t pay in full, absorption begins to accrue. The bulk of absorption you pay is bent by your card’s anniversary allotment rate, or APR. The APR reflects the absorption amount for the card, forth with any fees the agenda charges, annualized as a percentage.

Credit cards can accept added than one APR. For example, your agenda may accept one APR for purchases, addition for antithesis transfers, and still addition for banknote advances. Some cards additionally action promotional APRs that administer to purchases and/or antithesis transfers for a bound aeon of time afterwards you accessible your agenda account.

Credit cards are accessible to use. If you go into a store, for instance, you may be prompted to admit your agenda in a dent clairvoyant or bash it at the checkout. You can additionally add your agenda to agenda wallet apps for contactless payments in stores. When arcade online, application your acclaim agenda is a amount of entering your agenda information, including:

When you use your agenda to accomplish a purchase, the merchant, the acclaim agenda company, and the agenda arrangement (such as Visa or Mastercard) alike to accredit and action the payment. All of this is done electronically and about instantaneously.

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It’s additionally important to use your acclaim agenda in agency that will advice addition your acclaim score, while not costing you added than all-important in acceding of absorption and fees. For example:

Credit array are based on a array of factors, but your acquittal history is the best important one. Advantageous your bills on time can advice your acclaim score, while advantageous backward or missing payments altogether can acutely accident it. So the aboriginal tip for how to use a acclaim agenda is to be abiding you accomplish payments on or afore the due date every month.

You can agenda automated payments from your coffer anniversary or set up due date reminders through your acclaim agenda anniversary to abbreviate the accident of advantageous late.

Interest accuse can accomplish aggregate you buy with your agenda added big-ticket if you backpack a antithesis from ages to month. When you accessible a acclaim agenda account, be abiding you accept what the APR is and how absorption accrues on purchases.

Remember, you can pay off purchases interest-free during the adroitness period. Also, be acquainted that if you accept balances with altered absorption rates, your payments may be activated differently. For example, say you accept one antithesis at a promotional 0% APR and addition at the approved acquirement APR. Anything you pay over the minimum would be activated to the antithesis with the accomplished APR first.

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Cards with promotional offers may allegation 0% absorption on purchases and/or antithesis transfers, but these ante don’t aftermost forever. Any actual antithesis you owe afterwards the promotional aeon ends will be accountable to the card’s approved APR.

Credit cards can allegation abundant fees, which additionally add to the bulk of application them. Some of the best accepted fees you may appointment are:

All of these fees, as able-bodied as the card’s APRs, should be listed in your agenda agreement. You can additionally acquisition them online afore you apply. If you’re because a agenda with an anniversary fee, counterbalance that adjoin any amount the agenda ability action via a rewards affairs or added benefits. Many cards are accessible afterwards anniversary fees.

Similarly, if you plan to absorb time abroad, you ability appetite to opt for a agenda that doesn’t allegation adopted transaction fees.

After your acquittal history, the additional best important agency that affects your acclaim anniversary is your acclaim appliance ratio. It measures how abundant of your accessible acclaim you’re application at any accustomed time. Generally, it’s bigger to accumulate your agenda antithesis low about to your acclaim limit. Maxing out your acclaim cards can annual your acclaim anniversary to bead and additionally accelerate a arresting to lenders that you may be a college accident borrower.

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A accepted acclaim agenda allegory is that accustomed a antithesis will advance your acclaim score. On the contrary, accustomed a antithesis can potentially aching your anniversary if it agency you’re application added of your accessible credit. You can advice your score—and save money at the aforementioned time—by charging no added than you can allow to pay in abounding anniversary month.

Credit cards can advice you body credit, but they can additionally assignment adjoin you if you use them incorrectly. When comparing cards, be abiding you accept what you’ll pay in absorption and fees, as able-bodied as what you angle to accretion from any rewards and added agenda benefits. Once you activate application a acclaim card, analysis your chargeless acclaim letters periodically to accomplish abiding your anniversary action is actuality appear correctly. That can additionally be a acceptable way to atom abeyant artifice or character annexation if your agenda is anytime absent or stolen.

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[fanfictionlive]

Climbing That Fic Reading Wall or 9 Ways To Make AO3 Work For You

So I've been reading fanfics for more than a decade and I believe that there is always something good to read. The problem is sifting through everything else to find it. Additionally, I only read completed works and I very rarely read WIPs, so that significantly shrinks my selection. I have had to get extremely creative in my search for a good fic. The post about hitting a reading wall has inspired me to compile all the ways I use to search for a good fic. I'm not sure if anyone else has done this but I hope these help!

1. Switch fandoms: If you have been reading from fandom A for a week switch to fandom B.

Sometimes my brain just wants something different

There could be newly completed works I haven't seen

2. Filter update date to < 6 months or < 1 year, while filtering complete works only: this way I see fics that are just lately completed that I would never have seen before because they were still WIPs

This is especially good for big active fandoms (i.e. Harry Potter, Naruto, Teen Wolf, MCU, etc...)

You may find good fics that just haven't found their audience yet, a bit like sorting Reddit to rising

Bonus: AO3 filtering allows you to do this while also sorting by number of bookmarks

3. Pick A Fandom or Pairing and Sort by Title, then Filter Kudos to > 200

This was newly introduced to me by my sister this week and it works so well

It rearranges the list to an order I haven’t seen before and the kudos filter only shows fics that have reached the threshold. This helps keep the list to good quality fics.

Note: You may have to adjust the kudos filter depending on the size and activity in a fandom. Big fandoms like MCU would benefit from a higher threshold like > 500, smaller fandoms > 100 or even > 50 will be enough of a threshold

4. Read That 1 Popular Fic in the fandom that you have skipped over multiple times

Best case scenario: You find out it was actually worth a read and realize it was just hiding under your nose

Worse case scenario: You don’t like it and click backspace

This has happened to me multiple times, for 1 reason or another I skip over some popular fics because I was not interested in them at that moment, only to come back months later and realize I was missing out on something good.

5. Try A Different Pairing: I get tired of reading the same pairing over and over in a fandom so I switch it up a lot. There are a number of ways to do this.

Filter out the main pairing in the fandom, it seems scary because it cuts out 5,000 fics from the list but it's a good way to see other niche pairings with good fics

Ex. In Teen Wolf, filter out Derek/Stiles and see what else is available

Filter the categories to just one: M/F, M/M, F/F, or Gen

Randomly search pairings in a specific fandom. Most of the time, somebody has written for it. Quality is a toss up, but sometimes you hit gold.

Ex. In Avatar: The Last Airbender, I wanted to know is someone ever wrote Aang/Azula and behold an extremely good fic

6. Browse Based on Tags: AO3 has a function wherein you can see all the works tagged with Tag A

I like reading AUs regardless of fandom, so I click “Alternate Universe”, sort by bookmark and filter out all the fandoms I don’t read from or are tired of. Just keep filtering out the fandoms until you hit a space you like, wherein majority are fics from fandoms you are interested in. This is one of the more tedious ways to find fics but it works. I use this also for smaller tags like “political”.

Click “Random” on the browse tag page, I was surprised by the index of tags available to explore.

7. Filter by Word Count: For when it’s late at night but you still want to read a fic before you fall asleep

I read fics before sleeping, but sometimes it's 11pm and I don’t want to fall into a 150,000 word epic then say goodbye to my sleep

Usually I go to a specific fandom/pairing/tag and filter to complete and put 10,000 on the max word count

I find great well written one-shots this way and bonus: I get enough hours of sleep

8. Explore an Author: Found a good author? Read everything they have written.

If they have bookmarks, check that out as well. Good authors read good fics.

9. Use the Search Function: Advance search for the advance reader

Search>Work is the advance search function of AO3

It’s useful for people who are open to reading from multiple fandoms

There are so many things you can tweak in this that I don’t know if I can write all of them down, but just know it’s a useful tool at your disposal. Read up on the text help “?”s. It will teach you how to filter for or out specific words.

Almost everything I shared in the earlier tips can also be used in this function

Bonus Tips

10. Fic Recs and Outside AO3: Thank you for your reclists

Go to google and search for Character A/Character B fic recs or Fandom A fic recs

Check out fanfiction.net, livejournal, etc...

Explore Fandom Fic Subreddits (list copied from the r/Fanfiction sidebar)

/r/TheCitadel (ASIOAF)

/r/wormfanfic (Worm)

/r/HPfanfiction (Harry Potter)

/r/HPSlashFic (Harry Potter Slash)

/r/mylittlefanfic (My Little Pony)

/r/narutofanfiction (Naruto)

/r/pokemonfanfiction (Pokemon)

/r/Sherlock_Fanfiction (Sherlock)

/r/dbzfanfics (Dragon Ball)

/r/ToTheStars (a Madoka Magica fic)

/r/FalloutEquestria (a My Little Pony / Fallout fic)

/r/Outerworldsfanfic (The Outer Worlds)

11. Take a Break

Sometimes I need to step away

Read a book, watch a new show, and check out new movies. These also have an added benefit of increasing the fandoms I am interested to read fics from.

In conclusion, sometimes it takes a bit of work but I think it’s worth it when you find a great fic to read. I cannot guarantee the tips above can help you find gold all the time but I can guarantee that they have helped me find silver nuggets that have gotten me through the years until I hit my next gold.

Please share your own way to find fics. I am extremely curious to know how other people’s process.

submitted by /u/builtoncuriosity [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/2QoJvPP

[webbygraphic001]

Would The Web Be Better With One Good Browser?

When Tim Berners-Lee gave us the WorldWideWeb in 1990, it was the first and only web browser. But it didn’t remain alone for long.

Even in those early days of the web, there was plenty of competition for web browser market share: Mosaic, MidasWWW, SlipKnot, Arena, Netscape, and Internet Explorer emerged around that time, too, and duked it out for the top spot for the better part of a decade.

So, if there’s always been a battle of the browsers, why do we care so much about how many browsers are available today? You’d think it wouldn’t matter much. After all, browsers are nothing more than a shell through which we access the web, right? Superficially, that’s true. As consumers, browsers provide us with key navigational elements that help us move around the web: the home button, address bar, back and forward buttons, bookmarks, and more.

As designers and developers, though, you understand that browsers play a bigger role in the user experience than just what users can see at the top of their screen. With various rendering engines used to interpret and display code, we see varying results in how browsers show our websites to their users. As such, it’s a worthwhile question to ask: Would we be better off if there were only one browser?

The State of Web Browsers Today

There was a time when Internet Explorer was the reigning champ of browsers. However, it failed to prioritize the user experience and to adhere to web standards put in place for that very purpose. It was this failure that ultimately opened the door for other browsers to usurp IE from the lofty position it sat upon for years.

Here is what the global browser market share looked like in 2010, according to StatCounter:

As you can see, IE was quickly losing popularity to Firefox, which provided a much better (i.e. less intrusive) browsing experience for its users.

What’s interesting to note, though, is that Firefox didn’t remain the frontrunner for long. Just a year later, Chrome surpassed Firefox in terms of market share.

Eight years later, this is what the browser market share looks like:

It’s a totally different picture. Chrome owns the majority market share and there are no major waves detected in the market. Everyone’s browser preferences seem to be holding steady.

Even when we throw mobile browsers into the mix, the same holds true.

Notice how Chrome’s percentage share shrinks slightly, from 69.08% to 63.72%. That’s thanks to Safari, which cuts a bit deeper into Google’s share on mobile:

Even so, it’s clear that Chrome is an untouchable force when it comes to browsers. So, why don’t the others give up and just let Chrome run it all? Wouldn’t it be a better experience for users and, by consequence, make it easier for designers and developers to build for the web?

Is One Browser the Solution?

This is a tricky question to answer. Because if we’re being honest with ourselves, there’s really only one browser that we realistically could default to without the entirety of the web going bonkers: Chrome.

That said, there are some (albeit legit) concerns that will probably keep that from happening.

Concern #1: Privacy Is at Stake

Google is the entity behind Chrome and Chromium, the open source project that helps others create better browsing experiences. Browsers like Opera, Brave, and Vivaldi have been built with Chromium. Even Microsoft’s own browser, Edge, is getting a makeover with Chromium.

While it’s great that Google’s doing its part to bring order and stability to the web, that doesn’t negate the fact that there are serious privacy concerns when it comes to the Chrome browsing experience.

There’s the issue with cookies, for starters. Some web browsers have gone so far as to block websites from using cookies, by default. Google, on the other hand, leaves this to its users to configure on their own. Granted, the passing of GDPR has brought more awareness to the issue of privacy and cookie tracking on the web. But in terms of getting support from the leading browser, consumers aren’t going to get much there.

Then, there’s the matter of how much tracking Google is doing on its own. After all, if someone is using Chrome, that means they’re using other Google products as well. So, how much data is Google collecting as it watches its users go from its email platform to Google Drive to its search engine and so on? Probably a lot. Which will only strengthen the monopoly it has over the web.

Concern #2: Google Doesn’t Play Fair

Google has demonstrated that it doesn’t always have others’ interests in mind when it passes down big decisions. And that’s something that consumers and companies alike should be concerned with.

For instance, there’s the recent news about what Google wants to do to the Web Request API; specifically, how it relates to ad-blocking extensions.

Its reason for this? It says it’s moving its Chrome extensions to the Declarative Net Request API in order to improve user privacy. Some suspect, however, that Google wants to introduce its own API in order to cripple ad-blockers (which obviously impact its own ability to generate revenue through ads).

There are also assertions that Google edges out products it doesn’t like (including competing browsers) using less-than-reputable means. For example, the former CTO at Mozilla, Andreas Gal, told Bloomberg:

“There were dozens and dozens of ‘oopsies,’ where Google ships something and, ‘oops,’ it doesn’t work in Firefox. They say oh we’re going to fix it right away, in two months, and in the meantime every time the user goes to these sites, they think, ‘oh, Firefox is broken.’’

It’s not just the big competitors that Google has edged out either. The same article reports that developer Samuel Maddock had a similar experience. After building a browser using Chromium, Google refused to give him permission to use one of their products to complete it. When he sought out a reason for the rejection, there was none given.

Concern #3: Innovation Will Slow

When you look at the history of web browsers, you’ll see that it’s not just the leading options that have improved the browsing experience.

Take Opera, for instance, which was responsible for giving us browser tabs, thumbnail speed dial, and mouse gestures. Even if it’s never held a large share of the browser market, it’s still been a major innovative force, and one that the big players have had no problem copying.

Which leads me to wonder: Without multiple browsers competing and collaborating, is it possible that innovation will stagnate?

You could argue that we wouldn’t need to upgrade the browsing experience if we were given one really high-quality option to work with. But as we’ve already seen, Google doesn’t always look out for its users. So, who’s to say that it wouldn’t just kick back and wait to make improvements to its browser only when it served its own interests?

That’s not how technology works. As our needs change as consumers and the world around us becomes more complicated, technology always needs to be on the cutting edge. It would be rather reckless to give up on less popular browsers whose mere presence leads to greater innovation in how we move around the web.

Wrap-Up

As it stands now, we’re better off with multiple browsers. We could definitely stand to trim down the list of browsers that are available — for the sake of development and testing — but it would require the leading browsers to collaborate and work on building a more standardized web.

You can’t design for the majority of your visitors; you have to design for all of them.

As for what you can do with this information, here are my final thoughts:

You can’t design for the majority of your visitors; you have to design for all of them.

So, first things first: familiarize yourself with the differences between the leading web browsers. If you don’t have this set up already, install Chrome, Firefox, and Safari on your desktop and mobile devices. And put them into rotation as you spend time on the web, for work or personal use. You’ll quickly learn where these browsers fall short and where they shine.

Next, take a look at Google Analytics. Which browsers do your visitors use? What about in years past? If you don’t have any data to go on, then you need to assume that visitors could be coming in from any and all browsers.

And, finally, build websites that adhere to basic web standards. You’ll find information on this at the World Wide Web Consortium. Until our web browsers come together to align their rendering engines and browsing experiences, we have to do what we can to bring consistency and stability to the web.

Source from Webdesigner Depot https://ift.tt/2qUNHfK from Blogger https://ift.tt/2NLPH2D

[meet-the-saints]

Writing challenge part 3

Day 3 of 10 Write an action sequence

(this part is a bit long, but some excerpts do tend to be. Happy reading! Also, warning for gorew)

“I will beat one of you with this book!” The young woman yelled, pointing the book at the various people standing in front of her desk. The young woman looked quite infuriated at the newcomers, considering that they were getting on her nerves really quickly. The customs officer had dark blue hair, covering her right eye, and turquoise eyes as deep as the Royal Sea. Her black sleeveless turtleneck was covered by a light blue vest and she was carrying a green book with several bookmarks in it. She had a vial hanging around her neck with what appeared to be sea water in it.

“ちょっと　まって　ください, Misty。"1 Rose mentioned, coming towards the front of the group. His normal prankster’s face was replaced with perpetual glee. "We’re just trying to get through here. Why are you threatening us?” He sent Misty a playful wink.

“Because you all are getting on my nerves!” Misty commented. “I’m trying to check you all in, and one of you keeps poking me!” Rose shook his head as a blonde with olive eyes lifted their head from behind Misty and smiled. They held up a peace sign before shrinking back down. Misty’s right eye twitched, before she swung the tome at the other person’s nose, successfully knocking them out. Blood was on Misty’s book, and starting to drip on the floor. Rose laughed hysterically as some others from the Saints of Hell helped the other person up.

“Sorry about Alex, they’re worse than me sometimes when it comes to pranking people.” Rose commented sincerely.

“Uhm guys, ten thirty!” Slate said, as the police moved toward the group. The Saints of Hell all exchanged looks before nodding in sync.

“Look Misty, we’d love to stay, but as you can see we have an issue at hand.” Rose winked. It was a good thing that the Saints could change forms. Rose, Hazel, Midnight, Violet, Scarlett and Ken dissolved into mist, Derek and Raven became beams of light before leaving everyone’s sight. Slate morphed into a tiny ice blue dragon and sat on Misty’s shoulder. Veronica stood by another officer’s desk and started to chat with them. By this time one of the policemen had caught up to Misty and the remainder of the group.“Miss Waters, have you seen the group known as the Saints of Hell? They’re wanted for treason, espionage, and over three hundred counts of murder.” With this statement, Misty sat up straighter and pulled on a straight face.

“No sir, I’m afraid I haven’t. If I did, I would have been dead by now,” lied Misty, “When I do, I will certainly notify you.” She mentioned, sighing as the police left her alone. “Okay guys,” Misty mentioned, talking to Veronica, Alex, and Slate. “My work day’s over, so you’re on your own.” Slate looked dejected as Misty said that.

“Please?” Slate asked, curling around Misty’s shoulders. Misty looked really irritated at the trio. Alex peered back at Slate, keeping up with them.

“Ugh! Fine.” Misty growled. Alex and Slate cheered quietly. As the quartet left, the rest of Misty’s workplace sighed in relief. When the group got to Misty’s convertible, the police that had talked to them earlier heard Misty calling the dragon Slate, which he recognized as a Saint of Hell.

“Hey you!”

“Get in the car!” yelled Misty.

“After her!” replied the policeman.

Misty threw Slate and Veronica into the vehicle. Alex claimed shotgun and Misty started the car. When the police got in their cruiser the group had already got on the road.

“My sister is going to kill me!” yelled Misty, as the car speed away. Slate changed back to their human-ish form.

“Nice ride.” Slate commented nonchalantly. Veronica leaned her head outside the window, apparently very nauseous.

“Misty, are you really a customs officer? I’m not trying to be rude for once, but you don’t hold yourself like one, if that makes any sense.” Slate questioned quietly.

“Wow I can’t believe you noticed!” replied Misty sarcastically, “No. I am, in fact, a coroner. I believe Veronica has told you about my help in her cases…” Misty continued, more seriously this time. Slate nodded her head slowly.

“Veronica and I really don’t get along that well, but yes. She did talk about you a bit, especially along with Trenton, even though she didn’t really like her subordinate either. But back to you; who’s your sister?”

“Oh, my sister’s name is Brook Waters, she’s an expert archer, and she also enjoys hunting, surprisingly.” explained Misty. “Oh yeah she’s also two years older than me.”

“Oh, is she nice?” Slate asked. “Very, she’s the best sister ever.” Responded Misty. As Slate and Misty finished talking, they approached Misty’s quaint suburban home. “Welcome to my cave.” Said Misty in a very bad Northern accent.

“Ah ah ah…” Slate started, clicking their tongue. “Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly..” They finished, bowing and letting their familiar thick accent flow off their tongue again.

“Wow. Just wow.” Misty deadpanned. “Oh yeah,” She piped up. “My sister is a bit overprotective, but she’s awesome when you get to know her.” As soon as the quartet walked into the house, Slate was tackled by a girl with dark green hair. Slate’s head hit the floor as they muttered a small ‘oof!’. Veronica laughed hysterically. It seemed her motion sickness was cured. Alex gave Veronica a DiNozzo. Misty pried the mystery woman off of Slate.

“Brook, seriously?” Yelled Misty. “Get off of Slate.” “Of all people, you.” Brook sassed.

“It’d be nice; my wings are already torn. I don’t need anymore help.” Slate mentioned quietly so Brook couldn’t hear and slowly got up. The young lady, in addition to her hair, had a light green colored shirt on with a skull and a crossbones necklace; the jolly roger, if you will. Her left eye was black and her right eye was blind. This was Misty’s older sister, Miss Brook Forrestt Waters. She had a quiver filled with arrows all the way around the rim and they were grouped in colours for some unknown reason. A simple traditional wooden bow was slung over her opposite shoulder and her black jeans stayed ripped.

“Veronica, Alex, Slate, meet my sister Brook. Brook, these people are my friends from around town.” Misty explained.

“I know that one from work,” Brook stated, pointing at Slate. “And that one.” She continued, pointing at Veronica. “Not the other, though. But these….creatures, are your friends?” She asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. The quartet’s eyes twitched and Misty snorted like a bull.

“Don’t ever call these people creatures.” Misty growled at her sister before stalking off.

“Misty, we’re…. Used to it…” Alex tried to reason with her. Brook stood there in silence, not knowing what made her sister tick so much, not knowing of the blood coursing through her sister’s veins.

“Okay then…” Brook trailed off. They all walked inside and got settled down in the living room, where a crime scene was broadcast on the television.

“We have just received news about yet another murder in the area! The lady to my right is Faith. We were not given her last name, but as you can tell, her death you pretty gruesome.” The reporter said, motioning to the mangled body next to her. The body had its eyes, trachea, heart and vocal cords removed brutally. There were also several stab wounds all over the body. Alex glared at Slate. Slate sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Veronica sat slack jawed at the sight before her. All of a sudden, police sirens were heard. However they were not on the television. They were blaring through the windows. An officer had knocked on the door demanding Slate, Alex, and Veronica to surrender. They then added one more person to that list of names. Misty. Knowing what to do, Brook shoved the four into the basement.

“Motherfucker!” Slate yelled.

“Let me handle them!” Veronica shouted, pounding on the door. “I’m a cop!”

“Put a sock in it!” Misty demanded. “She’s trying to help us.” She walked down the basement stairs and turned on the lights. The basement was more like an underground home than anything.

“Misty, what’s this?”

“A hiding place, and it’s Mist.” Mist replied. Slate’s face turned from one of curiosity to confused familiarity. They heard loud voices when the door opened with a bang. In stepped a round policeman with a large mustache. Laying behind him was Brook, passed out on the floor. Seeing this as an opportunity, Mist turned into a cloud of black smoke. When the smoke dissipated, Mist had large black and red wings along with longer hair. Terrified, the officer attacked. That was a stupid move on his part. Next thing you know, he’s on the ground thinking Mist is going to kill him. She didn’t. She only taught him a lesson. “Run. Run and never come back. Or you will die here.” Mist growled, her eyes slightly glowing. The officer ran for his life. Slate furrowed her brows together.

“What? Are you?” Alex asked.

“A shapeshifter.” Mist answered simply.

“Why didn’t you use your books?”

“Left them upstairs.” Mist admitted with a shrug. The five went and tended to Brook. When Brook started to stir, Mist bolted for the bathroom. When she came back out, she was normal. Or at least, as normal as she looked. “Let me tell her what happened.” “Go right on ahead.” Slate said, sidestepping. Mist explained everything to Brook once she was conscious enough to understand. Everything except for the fact that she was a shapeshifter. After about two hours after that scare, Mist brought up something.

“Brook, I want to join the Saints of Hell.” Brook stayed silent for a minute.

“What? Don’t you know what they do to people?” Brook asked.

“Yeah, they do all of it in self defense. Brook, they are literally history. The only reason why they’re getting a bad rap is because people are trying to kill them! They’ve lived for so long, people are getting jealous of them! The fact that these people can be assets to everyday life, and they’re the country’s most wanted. So yeah, if I’m gonna do something with my life, I’m gonna surround myself with living history!” Misty shot back. 

[welcometophu]

Harvest 4

Twinned Book 1: Commit to the Kick

Harvest 4

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Alaric is already far from the house when he shifts back into human form and digs out his phone.

Going out for a run. Avoiding my father.

He sends the text to Chris and leans his elbows on his knees while waiting for a response.

Okay. I’ve actually started writing. Keeping writing is good.

Alaric snorts softly. He’s seen Chris start writing three times already, and each time after a half hour, Chris has deleted the file and gone back to his research. Maybe this time will be the right start.

He shifts back into the hound and raises his nose, catching scents on the air. The fading scent of apples has him loping toward the orchard, weaving through the trees with his nose to the ground. It’s too late in the season for the apples to be good—there’s already been a hard frost, and the remaining apples were turned to cider weeks ago. But it’s a comfortable place to explore, catching the scent of his extended family and the rest of the community.

The orchard is always a popular place in the fall, as the Clan gathers apples for food and preservation. Alaric remembers shimmying up the trees to shake the apples from the highest branches, so that Corbin and Drea could collect them.

He pauses, catching their scents, entwined together and bright as if they passed recently. Nostrils flare and he follows the scent, intent on the path until he stumbles over them.

Entwined, yes.

Lying on the ground together, tangled and hip to hip, mouth to mouth. Soft sounds that only register after Alaric’s stepped on Corbin’s foot, in the split second before Corbin jerks upright.

“Fuck!”

Alaric takes several steps back, lowers his body to the ground, tail drooping.

Drea sits up more slowly, combing leaves from her hair and tugging her shirt back to her waist. “Ric? What are you doing out here? If Mom wants us to come in, you could’ve texted.”

Corbin is flushed, his heart hammering, scent a confused melange of arousal and fear. “Ric, I… we….” He trails off, and Alaric shifts back to human, because he gets the feeling he’s supposed to say something.

He kneels there, silent. Cold seeps through his jeans from the damp ground, chilling his knees.

“Ric?” Drea says, and there’s worry in her scent now. She rolls into a crouch, one hand out.

“I’m not a wild animal you have to tame,” Alaric growls.

“Yeah, well, you might be giving off the wild animal vibe right now,” Corbin says quickly. “Complete with growl. Should I be worried you’re going to tear my throat out?”

“Were you hiding this from me?” Alaric knows the answer as soon as he asks it, knows he shouldn’t have even bothered. Warmth rises under Corbin’s skin, and Drea ducks her head, won’t look him in the eye. “Why?”

“We didn’t want to hurt you,” Drea says softly. “You and Corbin—”

Alaric shakes his head. “I love you both. You’re my best friends. It’s not like….” He trails off, because he doesn’t have the words for it. “I’m not angry.” He means the words to be truth, and isn’t sure why they taste like a lie on his tongue.

Drea kneels in front of him, reaches out until he leans forward, lets her hug him. She presses her cheek to his, and he turns to take her scent on his skin before he pulls away.

“It’s good,” he says, and pushes to his feet. “We’re good. I’m not going to tear anyone’s throat out.” When he grins at Corbin, there’s a puff of smoke from his nostrils. “I don’t need to. If it comes to that, Drea can defend herself. Don’t fuck up.”

He doesn’t know what he’d do if they couldn’t stand each other after this. He holds up his hands—Corbin’s his right, and Drea his left—then lowers them slowly, as if maybe they’ll understand what this really means to him.

Corbin comes to his feet, and Alaric shakes his head before Corbin can approach. “Not now,” Alaric says. He lets wings carry him skyward, spots Corbin flying close behind. Alaric wheels tightly in the air, diving back to the ground, daring Corbin to follow.

By the time Alaric levels out, Corbin is gone. Alaric takes another lazy turn, spots Corbin on the ground below with Drea.

He lets the air carry him back to the house. He taps on the window of his room with one claw; it takes three tries before Chris looks up from his laptop and blinks. Alaric taps again, and Chris finally rises and opens the window.

Alaric resolves into human form before his feet touch the ground. He frowns as he looks at Chris, opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Sorry to interrupt your writing,” he finally says.

“It’s fine. I don’t know why I expected you to come back through the door instead of the window.” Chris rubs his eyes, glances at his watch. “I probably needed a break. It’s been a few hours. Were you just out flying? You’re probably starving.”

“Started out running. Just following….” Alaric shrugs, because it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t live by instinct and nose. “Found Corbin and Drea.”

“I’m surprised you’re not still out there with—” Chris cuts off abruptly, frowning. “Alaric?”

“They were together.” It’s not a big deal, and it’s not something he needs to worry about. Or worry at, picking at the thought and feeling like it’s a scab on his skin. “It doesn’t matter. It’s okay.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

Alaric tries to taste the words again, and this time they taste more like truth. “No. ’t’s okay. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

He pushes through the door to his room, not sure where he’s going until he stands in the hall. He can smell the stay away scent from several doors down, knows that this is the one place his father doesn’t want him to go. Alaric strides down the hall, passing Drea’s room, and stops at the door to the room that belonged to Orson. He pushes it open, shrinking back from the wave of scent that pours out. He tilts his head before he thinks better of it, baring his neck to his father even without him there.

“Ric?”

“It’s okay,” he says again, lowering his chin and standing resolutely in the doorway. “My father marked this room to make sure we didn’t go in.”

Chris crowds close behind him, and Alaric inhales that scent instead, familiar and strong, letting it wash away the inherent order in the marking.

“Did your father seriously piss on this room to keep you out?” Chris asks, breath warm against Alaric’s ear.

Alaric huffs a laugh. “Not exactly. I think. He wouldn’t have harmed anything important.”

Chris moves behind him, and Alaric hears the sound of his phone waking up. “So, are we going in?”

Alaric takes a slow step over the threshold, body stiff and wary in the face of the strong scent. Once he clears the doorway, he can breathe more easily, and he takes a moment to steady himself and take stock of what’s been brought back.

“Hey,” Chris says quietly, and when Alaric turns, he realizes that Chris is aiming the camera at the room, then at Alaric himself.

“Hi, Ric,” Thorne calls out. “You’ve got both of us here. Chris thought that if there’s anything in those boxes, we might be able to help out.”

“And I figured you’d rather have Rory on the phone than Pawel,” Chris says quietly, and Alaric can hear Rory’s low laugh on the other side of the call.

“Yeah, then let’s start opening boxes.”

The boxes are labeled neatly, as if someone had been planning for a move. Bedroom 1. Bedroom 2. Kitchen. Living room. It’s as if they somehow have the dregs of the entire apartment here, whatever might have been deemed important by someone collecting evidence, without any of the furniture.

Alaric starts by pulling the tape off the living room box. Half burned candles, and a bag filled with a bowl and herbs that make Alaric sneeze. He holds them up to the camera, and after a moment, both Rory and Thorne chorus, “Sage and thyme.”

“There’s something else in there,” Alaric says. “You might not see it, but I can smell it, and it doesn’t smell like dinner.”

“Bring it back with you,” Rory tells him. “We’ll take a closer look then.”

Chris hands the phone to Alaric. “We’ll do better if we go through two boxes at a time. I’ll start on one of the bedroom boxes.”

“Do you know what you’re looking for?”

Chris raises both eyebrows. “Nope. Do you?”

He has a point. Alaric just points at the boxes, and Chris pulls the tape off and digs in.

It’s a lot of little personal things. A bookmark that’s a scrap of paper in handwriting that Alaric doesn’t recognize. A to-do list in a flourished scrawl, interspersed with Orson’s writing, and for a moment Alaric’s heart arches. He smells Orson on the books he pulls out, and on one particular throw pillow. He stands there, holding it to his chest for a long moment, inhaling the scent.

“Alaric.” Chris is holding up a composition book. “Your brother kept a journal.”

Alaric reluctantly sets the pillow down on Orson’s bed and sits down next to Chris as he points the phone at the book. Chris opens the book, and Thorne lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Is that your brother’s handwriting?” Thorne asks.

Alaric runs his fingers lightly over the ridges the pen made in the paper. “Yeah. Most of it is. Some of these notes in the margins aren’t, but it’s the same handwriting from most of the other notes from the living room. Probably his roommate.”

“Those are rituals.” Rory’s voice is cautious. “I mean, that page is a discussion of ritual. A deconstruction, like you’d probably do in Pawel’s class. Did Orson major in Magical Studies?”

Alaric shakes his head, the motion slowing. “I don’t think so. He was an engineer.”

“He could’ve gotten a minor and not said anything about it,” Thorne suggests gently. Chris nudges Alaric’s shoulder, and Alaric leans into him, stares at the book rather than the phone.

He can see what Rory’s saying; as he skims through the words he sees things that sound like they could be magical ritual. But more like information about it. Almost as if Orson and his roommate were holding a conversation on the page about how Clan could mix with Mage Talent in ritual. It twists into a tight knot in Alaric’s gut, and he closes the book.

“We should probably take a closer look at that.”

Alaric grunts. He can’t deny that Thorne’s right. But the idea of reading it himself makes him feel vaguely sick. “I’ll bring it back.”

His nostrils flare, a sudden bright flash of anger in the air. Footsteps land harshly in the hall outside; Alaric stands as the door bursts open, moves in front of Chris.

“Get out,” Theobald growls deeply, the sound reverberating in the room. It burrows under Alaric’s skin, and he takes a step back, stopping when he bumps into Chris’s knee. “This room is closed.”

“Because you don’t want the truth.” Alaric drops the phone into Chris’s lap, behind his back where Theobald can’t see. He hopes Chris has the sense to end the call before Theobald catches the small sounds of Rory and Thorne breathing. He keeps talking, trying to cover. “Because you don’t want to know the real reason why Orson died.”

“I already know!” Theobald pushes into the room, gets in Alaric’s face, pushes at his shoulder. “I know that it was a Mage that brought this on my son. The same way they are trying to twist your mind, trying to turn you into something other than Clan. And we will have retribution for Orson’s death. For the loss of my son and heir.”

Alaric barks out a sharp laugh. “You still have a son, and an heir.”

Silence, anger growing in the air around them, thick in Theobald’s scent.

“We will have our retribution,” Theobald growls, low and dark. “Before they take you as well.”

Alaric huffs and smoke swirls around them. He feels the tension in Chris’s knees where they press against Alaric’s legs, the small jerk of motion backwards. “No,” he growls, voice rumbling with another puff of smoke. “We aren’t going to war.”

“We’re going to war if I say we are,” Theobald counters. “And it is past time to make them understand—”

“Make who understand?” Alaric shouts. “Mages? All Mages? They aren’t all the same. They aren’t all one person, and neither are we. There are Clan who have communities where they live with Mages. Where they marry Mages. This isn’t even about magical ritual. I tried to tell you, it’s something different. That isn’t a symbol—”

Theobald roars, and Alaric stops abruptly, words dying in his mouth. He reaches for Chris, getting an arm around him as soon as he rises in clear statement of his protection for his friend. Theobald’s gaze narrows, and Alaric stares back at him.

“No,” Alaric says, tone falling flat. “I tried. I came back here for dinner today, but you want me to be something I’m not and you’re determined to destroy our community. You want to go to war, and there isn’t a war that needs to be made. I won’t do it. I won’t be blind to everything outside of this place. I can’t be. I’m angry about Orson’s death and I’m going to find out what happened. That’s what we need to do, not fight blindly because that’s what your father did, and his father before him. This isn’t Mages. We don’t know what it is, and I’m going to find out. And I refuse to go to war on your behalf.”

“If you walk out—”

“Don’t come back?” Alaric barks out laughter, short and sharp. There are steps in the hall, claws clicking on the floor, and his mother’s scent, bright and worried. “I thought I was all you had left, father. I’m either your heir or I’m not. You can’t have it both ways. But fine, I won’t come back until I know what happened.”

He pushes Chris ahead of himself, toward the door. Alaric keeps his body between Chris and Theobald, refusing to let Theobald threaten Chris. There’s a low growl in Theobald’s throat, but Alaric ignores it, just as he ignores his mother standing in the hall, and the gathered Clan around them in various shapes and sizes.

Chris heads toward Alaric’s room without needing direction, and Alaric follows close behind.

“Alaric.”

He almost stops at his mother’s soft voice. He pauses, rocks back before stepping forward again. “I’m sorry,” he replies quietly. “We won’t be at dinner tonight.”

“Be safe,” she murmurs. Alia makes no move to follow, and by the time Alaric reaches his room, he and Chris are alone.

Chris holds up the book. “I thought you’d want this.”

“Fuck.” Relief spirals through his chest in a bright, hot spike. Alaric takes the book, then yanks Chris close for a hard hug, holding on. It’s meant to thank him for rescuing the one thing that might help—for daring to smuggle it out in front of Theobald. But it feels more like taking comfort as he inhales Chris’s scent, presses his cheek against him and rubs for a moment as if Chris were Clan.

“I assume we’re leaving.” Chris’s voice is a rumble as they stand pressed close together. Chris’s hand moves across Alaric’s back, then lightly pats him. “Let me pack up my project, and we can be out of here in five minutes.”

Alaric’s phone chimes, and he steps back, chest aching as he shivers in the cold. He thumbs it open, stares at his sister’s text.

I’m sorry.

Air rushes out. I’m sorry, too, he types. Rumor travels fast?

I meant about—wait, did something happen?

Alaric stares down at Drea’s words, realizes she isn’t in the main house and has no idea. I’m leaving, sorry. Not you and Corbin. I can’t stay here with Theobald.

What did our father do now?

Chris lays his hand on Alaric’s shoulder, warm and heavy. “You just about ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Alaric types out one last reply. He won’t listen, and he won’t investigate to find out the truth. He says he’s going to war.

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[gethealthy18-blog]

How to Make & Use Dried Flowers for Decor, Tinctures, and More

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/how-to-make-use-dried-flowers-for-decor-tinctures-and-more/

How to Make & Use Dried Flowers for Decor, Tinctures, and More

We use a lot of flowers around here for purposes other than decoration, from calendula for skin to dandelions for iced dandelion lime tea. While I enjoy a vase of fresh flowers as much as the next person, the practical side of me always wishes for a way to extend the enjoyment.

I did a little research, and as a result, here are five natural ways to preserve flowers so their beauty lasts for weeks (even months!).

How to Make Dried Flowers for Lasting Beauty & Benefits

Yes, they’re pretty, but flowers have other benefits. Science has shown flowers make us happier!

I may be known for suggesting gifts other than flowers (preferably, experiences!), but there are tangible benefits to this popular gesture. In 2005 researchers explored how flowers impact behavior. People who received flowers were happier and had more positive interactions with those around them. The flowers even positively affected the recipient’s memory!

Fresh flowers can get expensive though! (I personally love to receive potted plants for this reason.) One other approach though is to dry flowers in order to preserve them (and the positive emotions!). Dried flowers are one of the simplest and most classic ways to preserve flowers and make the enjoyment last.

Which Flowers Work Best

Flowers that are delicate can crumble more easily when dried, so sturdy flowers work best. Sunflowers and daisies usually lose their petals when dried, so they’re not the best candidates for dried flowers.

Here are some flowers that work well:

Marigold

Carnation

Rose

Hydrangea

Delphinium

Tip: Flowers are best preserved when they’re vibrant and before they’re fully opened. Don’t’ wait until they’re dying!

How to Make Beautiful Dried Flowers at Home

There are three basic ways (that I know of) to dry flowers: by hanging, by pressing, or in wax.

Option 1: Dry Flowers by Hanging

Pros: Easy to do, little prep time. Ideal method for flowers and herbs that may be used in tinctures.

Cons: Some fading and loss of color. Will crumble easily if touched.

Supplies

You’ll need:

Flowers

Twine

Coat hanger

Scissors

Brown paper bags (optional)

Instructions

Remove the leaves from the stem so the flowers dry better.

Arrange the flowers in small bundles. Space the flowers out so there’s enough airflow and the blooms aren’t smashed together.

Tie twine around the flower stems and pull it tight. The stems will shrink some as the flowers dry.

Tie the twine to a clothes hanger. Each coat hanger will fit about 2-3 flower bundles.

Hang the flowers in a warm, dry place for 2-3 weeks or until dry.

Tips for Success:

Moisture will prevent the flowers from drying properly and can cause them to get moldy.

There should be air circulation, but make sure there aren’t any breezes nearby!

Direct sunlight causes the petal color to fade. Covering flowers with a paper bag while they’re drying can help. Once the flowers are tied, gently place the flower heads into an open paper bag and secure with some twine.

Storage and Shelf Life

Keep the flowers away from direct sunlight and protect them from gusts of wind. When stored properly, dry flowers will last for years, if not indefinitely.

Option 2: Dry Flowers by Pressing

Pros: Easy, low prep, and perfect for framing

Cons: Will lose the three-dimensional beauty; only works with certain flowers

This well known method to preserve flowers works best on blooms that are naturally more flat. There are some inspiring wooden flower presses available, but good old-fashioned books work just as well. According to Better Homes and Gardens, here are some flowers that work well for pressing.

Flowers that work well for pressing:

Violets

Pansies

Daisies

Shrub roses

Cosmos

Delphinium

Miniature roses

Geraniums

Forget-me-nots

Ferns

Leaves

Pressed Flowers Supplies

You’ll need:

Flowers

Scissors

Heavy books or flower press

Absorbent paper (newspaper, regular printer paper, etc. NOT wax paper or paper towels)

Pressed Flowers Instructions

Snip the stems from the flowers as close to the base as possible.

Lay a sheet of paper on the pages of the book. Arrange the flowers on the paper so they don’t touch each other.

Lay another sheet of paper on top, then close the book or flower press.

Stack heavy books on top and leave it be for several weeks.

Storage and Shelf Life

Pressed flowers will last indefinitely when stored properly. Keep them away from excessive heat, moisture, and direct sunlight. The flowers can be displayed in a glass frame, or laminated for things like bookmarks.

Option 3: Preserve Flowers in Wax

Pros: Lasts indefinitely and preserves color better than the other methods

Cons: Time-intensive and can be finicky; more to clean up.

I use beeswax in everything from homemade deodorant to non-toxic candles. Turns out it’s also handy for preserving flowers. Paraffin wax is typically used to wax flowers. However, like petroleum jelly, paraffin is a by-product of oil refining so I prefer to skip it. Soy wax is often used, but it comes from highly refined GMO crops (definitely not eco-friendly), so it’s also on my no list. So that leaves us with beeswax.

Wax Flowers Supplies

Flowers

Beeswax (about 1 cup)

Wide mouth Mason Jar

Pot

Metal Spoon

Wax Flowers Instructions

Fill the pot half full of water and place it over medium/high heat on the stove.

Put the beeswax into the jar and place the jar in the water.

Stir occasionally with a spoon until fully melted.

Quickly dip the flower into the wax, making sure it’s fully submerged.Large flowers like roses need more wax than something like daisies.

 Pull the flower up out of the wax, but keep the head still in the jar: give it a spin so the excess wax comes off.

Dry flowers upright for a few hours until hardened.

Tips for Success:

This method is a little trickier than the others and takes some trial and error.

The wax should be hot enough to smoothly coat the petals, but not so hot it cooks them.

The wax made the pink and red flowers duller and faded. However the method works beautifully for leaves, yellow, and orange-toned flowers.

Flowers with petals that aren’t tight together work best (flowers should be completely bloomed and open). Delicate flowers that won’t hold up to the heat of the wax are also a poor choice.

Storage and Shelf Life

Waxed flowers will last about 1-4 weeks, although some people have reported theirs have lasted for years. Keep them out of direct sunlight.

Fun Uses for Dried Flowers

Here are some ideas to use dried flowers:

Mount pressed flowers in a picture frame and hang them like art. Frames that are clear glass on both sides work well for this!

Put pressed flowers on some scrapbook paper to make a bookmark. Cover it in contact paper or laminate.

Arrange and put in shadow boxes (these are like picture frames but much thicker for large items).

Make a wreath with dried flowers to hang in the home.

You can make handmade paper from paper scraps and add flower petals for color.

Decorate gifts by tying with some twine and tucking dried flowers in the twine.

Pressed flowers can even be used to decorate a smartphone. Simply arrange the flowers on the phone back, then snap a clear phone cover over them.

Memory books and scrapbooks are another way to keep pressed flowers. Be sure to use very flat blooms and cover them with modge podge, contact paper, or something similar so they don’t crumble on the page.

Have you ever dried flowers before? What are some ways you use the dried blooms?

Sources:

Haviland-Jones, J., Rosario, H. H., Wilson, P., & McGuire, T. R. (2005). An Environmental Approach to Positive Emotion: Flowers. Evolutionary Psychology. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/147470490500300109

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/403578/dried-flowers/