#my timer starts when i see the first starter of a starter call posted from a sc i liked

[bma-2020]

i havent made a new fancy one so we’re sticking here n u kno the drill.

[bluefuckboy]

@slackslumber @king-queenie

This baby deserves its own post.

I’d like to say Incubus Kiri’s look is based heavily off his hybrid dragon form in the fantasy au

And with that I give you over 4K words of smut

Bakugo tossed another dirtied tissue into the wastebasket next to his desk. It joined the pile of similarly stained tissues and Bakugo felt a twinge of shame as he leaned back in his chair and sighed. The video on his computer was still playing and the sound of porn stars fucking now echoed a bit in his dorm room.

Bakugo hit pause and let his head fall onto the keyboard. Nineteen years and he was still in a steady relationship with his right hand. It was sad, but what was even worse was the fact that every time he tried to muster up the courage to finally go out and find someone to fuck, he would end up chickening out before the date even started.

It also didn’t help that he was into guys. It just made things harder since every guy he’d tried to hook up with thought Bakugo was ready to spread his ass for them no sweat. Like hell he was. He was the one who would be doing the fucking.

He sighed and picked up his phone to scroll through the group of apps he’d downloaded for the sole purpose of finding someone to finally lose his virginity with. All of them were a no go tonight and all the messages were just horny guys telling him how good he’d look pinned under them.

He was about to call it a night when his phone dinged with a message from an unknown sender. It dinged again, and again, and again, until Bakugo shut the sound off to silence the chorus of bells. It was the same message, sent to all the dating apps he had.

Of course his first thought was to delete it since it obviously must be some sort of spam, but he was curious too. He glanced at the message header.

Mistress Midnight’s Midnight Delights

The font was large and gothic and Bakugo’s curiosity got the better of him as he opened the message. It was a link to another app, which Bakugo downloaded for the heck of it since the description “Pleasure with the press of a button” had piqued his interest.

The app was set up like any other dating app would be, except there was no place to fill out a profile. Just categories which included Vanilla, S/M, BDSM, and one called V Card Removal. Bakugo clicked on it and was taken to a page that was exactly what he was looking for. It was a section dedicated entirely to first timers.

He was impressed with the frankness of the app as he scrolled through descriptions ranging from “soft and sweet” to “XXX.” He stopped at one that read “D/S.” He clicked on it and was greeted with several photos of gorgeous guy sprawled out in various positions.

There was a tall, lean guy leaning against a wall with a distant look on his face. His hair was two toned, half white and half red with what looked like a birthmark around one eye. He was very handsome, but Bakugo got the vibe he was probably under the Dom category and he was definitely looking for a Sub.

He scrolled through more photos. There was a guy with crazy yellow hair that looked like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. He was even wearing what appeared to be a Pikachu costume, complete with ears and a tail that was clearly an anal plug. It made Bakguo’s cheeks hot, but it still wasn’t quite his type.

Another guy who looked the Sub part caught his eye. He was doey eyed with green hair and a spray of freckles over his nose and cheeks. He was laying on a bed, everything visible except for the goods, which were covered by his hands in Marilyn Monroe-like pose. There was even some sparkly linen covering one of this thighs.

Bakugo scrunched his nose up. Definitely not his type. That guy would probably cry during sex and then tell you he loved you as you were trying to sneak out the door the next morning. Bakugo wanted someone who would gladly suck his cock or ask him to fuck them and make him feel like this wasn’t a desperate final attempt to no longer be a virgin.

He scrolled past green haired boy and stopped as the next photo made him do a double take. It was a red haired guy, well built with a coy, toothless smile that made Bakugo’s stomach drop slightly. He was super cute and dressed in what appeared to be a doggy kink get up.

A bright red collar circled his neck and he was holding a bone in one hand while the other rested on his knees, which were pulled up to his chest, showing off just enough of his firm thighs to make Bakugo want to grip them tightly as he made the guy whimper like a naughty puppy.

Bakugo clicked on the picture. A pop up appeared.

Would you like to summon, Red?

Red must be what the guy went by, which was fitting. Bakugo found the wording a bit strange, but the slight sparkle in this guy’s eyes made Bakguo’s throat tighten up. He slammed his thumb onto the “Summon” option.

To his surprise the phone became searing hot in his palm. He cursed and dropped it onto the floor. It started vibrating violently and Bakugo was sure he must have just downloaded a virus. But then it stopped and the air seemed to thicken.

It felt like it was weighing down on Bakugo making it hard to breathe. The phone was buzzing again, but rhythmically this time. The screen was glowing red and it got brighter and brighter until Bakugo had to cover his eyes when it became almost blinding. There was a sudden rush of air from nowhere and the atmosphere changed from suffocating to calm. There was even a scent that reminded Bakguo of a high end cologne.

He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the afterimage of the bright light from the phone. The room had gone dark again as Bakugo had the lights dimmed for his me time. As his eyes adjusted his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. There was someone standing in the middle of his room.

He nearly fell over in his attempt to scramble away from the large, imposing figure. He groped for something, anything that he could possibly use to defend himself. He ended up ripping the keyboard from its spot next to the monitor, holding it in front of him like it was some sort of shield as he spoke in a shaky voice.

“Who the hell are you? How the fuck did you get in my room?”

The figure didn’t reply. There was what sounded like a snap and the room was suddenly bathed in soft lighting from sources that seemed to appear out of thin air. There were candles that had popped into existence, flickering slightly.

Now that there was adequate light, Bakugo could see that the hulking figure was none other than the guy, Red, that he had hit “summon” on. But he was far different from his photo.

For starters he was jacked as shit, way more muscular than the photo had let on. He was wearing what appeared to be tight leather pants that revealed he was packing some major heat. He had leather boots that stretched nearly up to his knees and he was completely shirtless.

Bakugo noticed there was a tattoo on the guys left shoulder that looked like the Roman Numeral for 5. In looking at the tattoo, Bakugo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over the bulging bicep it was above, which flexed as the guy crossed his arms.

“You called?”

His voice was dangerously low and gravelly. Bakugo’s eyes darted up to his face. He was handsome for sure, but his features were sharper than Bakguo had expected and there was a scar over one his eyes, which were a deep, dark color that Bakugo couldn’t quite make out in the low lighting.

They seemed to glint a bit as the guy cocked his head and growled, “Come on kid I haven’t got all day. What’ll be?”

Bakugo’s mouth gaped open and he managed to stammer out, “You’re that guy from the app? Red, right?”

Red nodded, but his expression was bored. “Yeah that’s me. But you can call me whatever you want to tonight, sweetheart.”

Bakugo eyes widened and he was about to give an angry retort, but Red was suddenly in front of him. It was too fast for a normal human. He was simply just there, mere inches away from Bakugo, who found himself pinned against the desk. He panicked and shoved the wireless keyboard into Red’s broad chest in an attempt to push him away, but it was entirely useless.

Red’s chuckle sent a chill down Bakugo’s spine and he shimmied the keyboard out of Bakugo’s shaking hands, tossing it to the side.

“Hey!” Bakugo yelled, “That shit’s expensive you ass!”

He could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins now and it gave him a momentary bout of courage to say, “I clicked on a cute submissive guy, not you, you crazy shithead.”

Red looked confused for a second, but then his face broke into a grin. His casual laugh caught Bakugo off guard and Red said, “Shit. That’s my bad. I forgot to update that photo.”

He was suddenly too close for comfort and Bakugo could feel his hot breath against his face as Red crooned, “I used to play the sweet puppy act, but now I’m more of an alpha.”

He grinned again, this time showing teeth which were unnaturally sharp. Bakugo shivered as Red whispered, “I can be the Big Bad Wolf if you want, babe.”

Bakugo felt the edge of the desk dig into the small of his back as he tried to lean back as Red came closer. He loomed over him and Bakugo felt small and almost vulnerable. This wasn’t what he wanted, and the taunting smirk on Red’s face was making him even more pissed off.

He somehow managed to wriggle his arms up and pound his fists into Red’s chest, which was sold as a rock. It was enough to provide a small sliver of space for Bakugo to shimmy out of Red’s grasp and stand in front of him.

“Go back to wherever the fuck you came from and get the fuck out of my room.”

Red cocked an eyebrow. “Aw you’re kicking me out? But I’m just getting started. We pride ourselves on service at Mistress Midnight’s. So I’m not leaving until you’re satisfied.”

Red was suddenly right next to him again. Bakugo didn’t have time to try and maneuver out of the way as the man’s wide palms were at his hips, holding him in place. That heavy, almost suffocating feeling was in the atmosphere again.

“Let me go!” Bakugo growled, struggling in vain, his fists pounding against Red’s chest.

One of Bakugo’s wrists was grabbed by Red and yanked back so that they were pressed flush against each other. Red’s other hand was now on Bakugo’s ass and Bakugo could feel the heat between their bodies.

The hand on Bakugo’s ass slipped into his boxers. Red’s palm was like fire against Bakguo’s skin and he hissed slightly as he tried to pull out of Red’s vice like grip. The air grew even thicker and Bakugo’s lungs felt like they were about to cave in, but then everything seemed to stop as Red pressed their lips together.

Bakugo wasn’t just a a virgin sexually. He had also never kissed anyone before. The sensation was strange, a tingly feeling that had him focusing on the soft give of Red’s lips instead of the hand kneading his asscheck slightly.

Bakugo inhaled sharply as something wet came to tease at the seam of his lips. Red’s tongue slipped past Bakugo’s lips, snaking it’s way past his teeth and forcing Bakugo’s mouth open. Bakugo panted into Red’s mouth as Red’s tongue caressed every inch of Bakugo’s mouth, until Bakugo’s knees began to shake.

When Red finally pulled back Bakugo was gasping for air. He knew kissing was supposed to be good, but this was on another level. His lips felt swollen and he flinched as Red dragged a thumb along his bottom lip, gathering the bit of spit that coated it. Bakugo watched with wide eyes as Red sucked the saliva off the pad of his thumb with an obscene pop before smacking his lips.

“You virgins always taste so sweet,” Red commented.

Bakugo flushed and he looked down sheepishly at his feet. In doing so he noticed the boner he must have popped at some point during their make out session. Out of habit he tried to cover himself with the hand that wasn’t being held by Red, but it was snatched away so both his wrists were in Red’s grasp.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. This the whole reason I’m here, remember?”

Red punctuated the statement by grinding his hips into Bakugo’s. Bakugo let out a very unmanly squeal as he felt Red’s own erection press against him. Red made a strange noise, but Bakugo didn’t have time to register it as he was suddenly being slammed into the wall.

His back hit with a solid thud and the air was knocked out of him. He gasped for breath, but then forgot how to breathe entirely as he saw that Red’s eyes were glowing, the pupils thin slits, almost reptilian.

But it wasn’t just Red’s eyes that had changed. His teeth were sharp like a shark’s, glistening in dim room. Black horns topped his forehead, fitting perfectly with the spikes of his red hair. The tips of his ears had elongated slightly, ending in distinct points. The hands that came to cup Bakugo’s ass again ended in sharp points that stung as Red dug his nails in. But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

Red had suddenly sprouted wings. Giant, leathery wings that looked bat-like. They were folded, but flared out slightly as he grinned at Bakugo wickedly. Something caught Bakugo’s attention from the corner of his eye. There was also a tail flipping back and forth behind Red, which ended in a heart shaped spike.

“Y-youre a demon?” Bakugo gasped, shaking even more now.

Red’s wings flattened agains his back. “In broad terms sure. But the correct word is Incubus.”

“Incuwhat?”

“To put it very simply, a sex demon.”

“S-sex demon?”

Bakugo’s whole body was hot. Red’s now inhuman appearance was frightening, but there was something also oddly erotic about it. His eyes seemed to draw you in and despite how dangerous they looked, Bakugo found himself wanting to delve his tongue into Red’s mouth now, tracing the points of those teeth. Said teeth were suddenly nibbling lightly at Bakugo’s neck, down his collarbone which Red laved his tongue over, dipping into the hollow and making Bakugo’s body spasm.

He’d been turned on plenty of times but this was different. It was like his body was craving more each time Red would touch him. He wanted to feel Red’s naked chest against his own, and he found himself clumsily trying to yank his shirt off.

Red chuckled and the garment was discarded along with Bakugo’s boxers, leaving Bakugo entirely exposed. Red’s eyes flicked over Bakugo’s trembling body and it felt like everywhere he looked became hot. Bakugo’s cock was already fully erect and Red’s eyes lingered on it.

He pursed his lips, as though in thought, and then he was kissing Bakugo with such force that Bakguo thought he might suffocate. Red’s mouth was wet and hot, but there was something snaking up his leg, winding round his thigh, dancing lightly over the dip in his pelvis until he felt it coil round his throbbing cock.

It was Red’s tail, wrapping Bakguo from base to tip, making him mewl into Red’s mouth. The pressure around his cock was just enough to make Bakugo want more, it was almost a tease, but then the tip of Red’s tail flicked over the head of Bakugo’s cock.

It was a completely foreign feeling, rough, but warm, and agonizingly stimulating. Red’s tail tightened around Bakugo’s cock and he began to pump him slowly while he teased Bakugo’s slit, which was dripping precum onto the leathery skin.

Red separated their mouths briefly and Bakugo gasped for air. Red’s eyes were hypnotizing and the slow fuck of his tail around Bakugo’s cock had him close to orgasm. But then the sensation was suddenly gone and Bakugo made a disappointed noise.

Red chuckled, “Don’t worry. We’re only getting started.”

Bakguo was swept up effortlessly by Red’s strong arms and deposited on his bed, still very much naked, and still very much aroused. Red stood over the bed, looking like a predator deciding how to devour its prey. His wings flexed slightly.

“You know what, I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’ll give you some special service. But first I wanna see you on your hands and knees.”

Bakugo’s brow furrowed. “My what?”

Red’s eyes began to glow brighter. “I said get on all fours.”

It was an order and Bakugo scrambled to position himself on the bed. He looked up at Red, who tutted at him before bending down so their faces were level. Bakugo’s eyelids were heavy and he opened his mouth eagerly for Red as they shared a languid kiss.

But then another order came. “Turn around.”

Bakugo hesitantly maneuvered so his backside was toward Red. He couldn’t help the blush that spread over his cheeks and all the way down to his chest. He could hear Red make a noise of approval and then Bakugo’s head was being shoved down into the sheets so his ass was in the air.

“Now be a good boy and stay still.”

Bakugo flinched as Red cupped his ass. The claws on his fingers dug into the skin ever so slightly and Bakugo tried to move away but was stopped with a hard slap to his left cheek followed by a growl from Red.

“I said don’t move.”

Bakugo’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. The sting from where Red had slapped him was turning him on even more. He wanted to feel more so he purposefully pushed himself up from the bed.

Red’s claws dug into his scalp almost instantly, forcing his head back down as the satisfying sound of Red’s palm hitting the creamy skin of Bakugo’s ass echoed through the room. Bakguo moaned slightly and the grip on his hair vanished.

He could feel Red’s hands cup the angry red marks he’d left on Bakugo’s ass. Near perfect handprints. But Red was far from done as he spread Bakugo open. It was what Bakugo had wanted to do to the cute boy in a collar. But instead he was being worked open by a demon whose hot breath beat against his quivering hole.

Bakugo buried his face deeper in the the sheets, balling them up with his fists as he felt something wet flick at his entrance. Red’s hands tightened on Bakugo’s cheeks and then Bakugo cried out as Red’s tongue pressed into him ever so slightly.

Bakugo had tried anal play once, just to see if it was anything he was interested in. He’d managed to get two fingers in, but could never find the sweet spot he’d heard about, which was part of the reason he wanted to top.

But now, as Red’s tongue circled rings of muscles, any remaining wishes to top were long gone. In fact he found himself trying to lean in closer to Red, who was fucking him slowly with a tongue that was far to long for any human being.

It was reaching places Bakugo didn’t even know he had. Red curled his tongue slightly and Backugo let out a muffled scream of pleasure. He had the sheets between his teeth now, biting down in an attempt to keep quiet as this was a dorm.

But Red seemed to have other ideas. His tongue was pulled out, making Bakugo’s body shake. He felt the bed dip and then Red was draped over him, his chest pressed flush against Bakugo’s sweaty back. Somehow Red’s pant’s were gone and Bakugo could feel something firm and hot slide between his cheeks for a moment.

Red yanked the sheet out of Bakugo’s mouth and replaced it with two of his fingers, hooking them into Bakugo’s bottom jaw. He couldn’t feel the points of Red’s claws, but sharp teeth came to nibble on his ear as Red whispered.

“I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you.”

Bakugo’s last bit of sanity snapped as he felt the tip of Red’s tail suddenly slip inside of his quivering hole. The fingers in his mouth were making him drool onto the sheets. The flared tip of Red’s tail had slid in surprisingly easily and Bakugo clenched around it.

He let out a noise he didn’t know he was capable of making as the tip of Red’s tail brushed against an area that had Bakugo seeing stars. He heard a growl of approval, and the fingers in his mouth were taken out.

“Tell me what you want,” Red asked, his voice a low rumble.

Bakugo’s voice shook as he found himself saying, “I want you to fuck me.”

Red smiled devilishly. “Good boy. Now scream for me.”

The tip of the tail pressed right against Bakugo’s prostate and Bakugo let out a high pitched whine. It didn’t seem to satisfy Red though and his tail was slipped out quickly, leaving Bakugo’s hole clenching at air. But then the solid head of Red’s cock was there.

Red pushed in ever so slightly and Bakugo whined.

“You want more?”

Bakugo could only nod, his head bobbing up and down erratically as he panted into the sheets. Red’s tail wrapped around Bakugo’s right leg, almost holding him there as he positioned himself at Bakugo’s entrance.

In one thrust he entered him all the way and Bakugo did indeed scream. It felt like he was being ripped apart. Red’s cock was huge, filling him up in a way he never knew he wanted. He cried out again as Red pulled out before slamming back in.

Bakugo cummed as Red’s cock hit his prostate. He could feel himself clench around Red and it was almost too much as Red pulled out again and started fucking him hard and fast. Bakugo’s muscles relaxed slightly after his orgasm and somehow Red slid even deeper into him.

A low growl rumbled from behind Bakugo’s head and he felt wet strands of saliva dripping onto his back. He somehow managed to glance up at Red and the sight pushed him forward into a second orgasm.

The incubus looked like an animal in heat. He was salivating, panting heavily as he fucked into Bakugo. His wings had spread out so they filled the cavity between the bed and the ceiling. They trembled with what Bakugo hoped was Red’s own pleasure. Red’s tail tightened around Bakgugo’s leg and then Red came.

As he did he dug his claws into Bakugo’s hips, but Bakugo didn’t register the pain. He was entirely fixated on the feel of Red’s hot cum filling him up. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before and it was amazing. Red was still thrusting and Bakugo didn’t expect to feel even more spurts of cum shoot inside him. It was like Red was trying to pump him full.

With a loud moan Red’s forehead fell to rest on Bakugo’s shoulder. Bakugo could feel breath beat against his skin, cooling the saliva sticking to it. When Red finally pulled out Bakugo felt slick sliding out of him. He shuddered and tried to look up at Red again, but he couldn’t.

He was feeling strange all of a sudden. Like his body was being dragged down into the bed, his limbs becoming heavy. It was becoming hard to focus and a soft buzzing was starting to fill his head.

He was lifted like a rag doll and plopped back onto the bed. Red’s wet tongue swept up his abdomen and Bakugo shivered. He groaned as he felt Red’s mouth at his cock for a moment, licking up the cum that had dribbled down. He felt a strange sensation at the jut of his hip. It burned slightly but then it was over and exhaustion and post coitus bliss washed over him, drowning him into a deep sleep.

He faintly heard Red say something to him, but he was out before he could understand what it was.

When he awoke the next morning he was tucked into bed. His phone was on the nightstand, sheets neat and clean as though last night had never happened. Bakugo wondered if that was the case. It could have been one hell of a dream, and probably had to be.

An incubus fucking him senseless? That was the stuff of fiction. Bakugo sighed. He didn’t deny the fact that part of him wished it had been real. He could almost feel the burn from Red’s hands on his ass. As he shifted slightly, he did feel something with his ass however. It was a numb feeling and he sprung up, regretting doing so as his back throbbed painfully.

He tore the sheets off and waddled over to the mirror hanging on the closet door. Sure enough, as he yanked his boxers down there were distinctly shaped red marks on each cheek. It made Bakguo’s heart flutter for some reason, but then he noticed something else.

There was another mark on his hip. It was writing. He craned his neck down to make it out. It looked like it had been written with a sharp object and was more of a scar than anything. Bakugo’s eyebrows raised at the words.

Property of Eijiro

Eijiro? Bakugo didn’t know an Eijiro. He was thoroughly confused but then the moment before he passed out came rushing back. Red had carved this into him. He’d also whispered to him words which made Bakugo shiver remembering them.

“Next time I want my name on your lips as you cum. You’re mine now.”

[inkbyajm]

Holiday Blues

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: fluff, slight angst

word count: 1.1k

notes: it’s been two weeks, but i finally wrote the second part to the holiday series! i decided to change a few things: for starters, in this world, the pandemic DOESN’T EXIST for the sake of the plot, and the reason why corpse and reader can’t see each other is because she lies and says she doesn’t quite have the funds to travel. anyways, it’s christmas in three days, and 2020 will be over NEXT WEEK i’m so excited!! also, i’m curious as to which christmas songs you’re obsessed with at the moment 👀 to me, december means i can finally blast I’M GONNA KILL SANTA CLAUS by the most greg of all gregs - mr. danny gonzalez. and no one can stop me, because ‘tis the season.

< previous    next  >

It was halfway into December and Corpse had felt absolutely no holiday cheer. Well, that’s not exactly true. He’d streamed once or twice, he’d played with friends off camera too. But once everything cut, the corners of his lips would drop and he’d slouch back into his seat, with an air of defeat, as he thought about his love having a merry time on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. 

Unbeknownst to him, (Y/N) and his friends had collectively decided to throw a big Christmas party in the new OfflineTV mansion the group had recently finished renovating. (Y/N) wasn’t going to leave her boyfriend without a present, nor was she leaving him to celebrate anything alone. While, initially, a festive gathering was all she had planned, a little bird (more like a flock) had been telling her all about her partner and the state he had been in lately. He wasn’t exactly fooling anyone with the “I’m fine”s and the “yeah, I’m good, just tired”s, contrary to his belief. So she very bravely decided to take on the 14+ hour transatlantic flight and pop in for a visit in the city of angels only a couple of days before Christmas Eve. Until then, though, he had to be kept in the dark. And in this case, what he didn’t know did hurt him. 

━

It was a chilly morning when Corpse woke up with his body aching all over. Another restless night, another long day to spend. With a groan, he got up to start his morning routine, while taking his medication along the way.

As he walked to the kitchen to make up some kind of breakfast, he scrolled through his social media feeds to see if anything new had been posted while he was away. 

His heart tightened ever so slightly, he couldn’t tell if it was due to his condition, or due to the feeling of jealousy which rose the longer he stared at her recent post. He felt selfish, of course she was allowed to have male friends, he himself  had many female friends. But he still felt like that could have been, or rather should have been, him.

Dejectedly, he went on to Twitter to end up feeling even worse. He didn’t feel like telling anyone about how pathetic of a boyfriend he was being, yet he wanted to get out something. In the end, he settled with a good ol’ cryptic message as per usual Corpse Husband style.

Not feeling like eating much anymore, the brunette settled for quick oats. An hour had gone by, maybe even two, time was difficult to keep up with when nothing was done to spend it. He sat in his living room, the pictures she had posted floating around his mind, and realised (Y/N) hadn’t called him once since the beginning of the month. She’d warned him she was going to be busy, but he thought perhaps she had at least an hour to talk about all the riveting things she had been up to in the past couple of weeks. 

Nervously, he picked up his phone and hovered his finger over her name. Wasn’t it late where she lived? What if she was having dinner with her roommates? It would be rude to interrupt their evening. But as he was hesitating, his finger had accidentally pressed the screen, prompting the ringing to begin.

It rang once, it rang twice. Three times. Four. Just as he was about to hang up, the timer had started, indicating that she was on the line.

“Hello?” Warmth instantly spread across his chest at the sound of her voice he hadn’t heard in too long a time.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Corpse felt shy all of a sudden, as if he was speaking to her for the first time. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say beforehand.

“How are you?” he asked, putting her on speaker as he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

“I’m good! Really good, actually,” she spoke softly, a hint of pep in her voice, “how are you doing?”

“I uh...I woke up feeling sore today. Feels like someone beat me up in my sleep.” he followed up with a light chuckle so as to not completely ruin the mood. There was a short moment of silence before (Y/N) finally responded.

“I’m sorry. Did you take your medication?” Her reply felt somewhat off. Usually, she’d make it a bigger deal, asking him to rate the pain from 1 to 5 (1 being “eh, it’s barely there” and 5 being “put me out of my misery”), making sure he was going about his day alright, or even giving him virtual kisses to make him feel even a little bit better.

“I did, yeah, I took them this morning.” He wanted to talk about something, anything, but he couldn’t not think about what had been bothering him for the past two hours. “So, I saw you had one eventful day yesterday?”

“Yes! (F3/N) and I went on a hike early in the morning, and oh, Corpse, it was so magical!” he heard her gush, “there was snow everywhere, it was so so pretty. And although it was kinda really cold, we built super cute snowmen and made snow angels! Then I spent some time baking sugar cookies with my roommates, after that we went shopping for a bit. They had both gone out with their partners in the evening, so I went to bother (F3/N) again. It was cool though, he didn’t mind. I promise.” she giggled, finished with her rant.

Although he was sad that he hadn’t gotten the chance to make such fun memories with her, he was also pleased to hear how well she’d been doing. She sounded so joyous, so full of life, he didn’t have the heart to burden her with his gloominess.

“That sounds nice.” he faintly smiled, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

Oh how it absolutely broke her to hear him desperately trying to support her, to keep up the image of not being bothered in the slightest. She was very close to telling him how much she missed him, how badly she wanted to see his pretty face and run her fingers through his soft messy curls. But she had to resist those temptations, for their reunion was only a few days away, and she had worked very hard to create this temporary distance between them. It was all for the end goal. Determined to follow through with her plan, she had decided to end the call early.

“Sorry, (F1/N) just messaged me. They need another pair of hands to set up the Christmas village on the table.”

“Oh, alright, yeah, you go make your house pretty. Send me a picture of the masterpiece.” She was sure to have heard her heart break right then and there.

“Of course, bubba. Okay bye, love you!”

His heart swelled a little at her words. At least she still loved him.

“Love you too.”

[foryouthegays]

spreading propaganda [Dream SMP] liveblog yall lets go. this is so long i am sorry but the end is an actual summary of what happens asldkfa

sellout timer pog: 00:30:20, 01:00:40, 01:31:35, 02:02:03 (for like a second), 02:03:00, 02:34:35

time spent reading donations: 10 minutes, 20ish seconds. 

fanart credit he puts up (all from twitter i think): snumkt, reinneart, lihnsu, sestqr, jester_u, Brigade_Lost, natonyy

also taggin @antarctic-empire-technoblade​ :) theres an actual summary at the end that isnt just me ramblin so,,,,,,ye. i am so sorry its so long a;dkfja i dont know how to condense things 

00:00:35 “i stole a lot of sand recently,” ah yes, a casual conversation starter, the admission of theft 

00:03:55 hE HAS A VILLAGER TRADING HALL CHAPEL IN THE VILLAGE SIR THAT IS ILLEGAL 

00:04:13 

tubbo: -..--...--- 

ranboo: that means beans right

no, ranboo, not it does not (i put it into a translator and it just. it doesnt mean anything. i didnt see any spaces so im just. what was mr tubbo trying to say

00:04:35: relationship advice with technoblade! [reading donation] “‘techno, my boyfriend said he’ll never sub to you, how do i handle this travesty?’ uh, clearly you need to break up with him, and send me more money, is the most- that’s the most unbiased opinion I can give you, it’s just a good life decision, alright? It’s just a good life decision.”

00:16:00 ranboo hi!!!! him garden :D 

HOUND ARMY HOUND ARMY 00:18:10

00:20:15 ‘i have not made a tier list [for dinosaurs] yet’ Y E T? ? ? ?? ? 

00:20:55

“‘Hey, are you uncomfortable with being part of the SBI family dynamic?’ Uh, I don’t really- it’s not a matter of being uncomfortable, it’s just a matter of people making massive revisions to my character and the lore three months into the story without telling me, and it’s like, ‘no, that doesn’t- the story doesn’t- so many things don’t make sense now! What?? What???’ but if you want to make like, fanart of it, it’s fine”

00:21:25 imagine believing in airplanes, couldnt be me

00:21:35 SKLDJFAK a dono is like, hey can u call my new cousin a nerd, and technos like [claps] yOUVE COME TO THE RIGHT MAN im all about bullying infant children 

lakjshdfl 00:26:15 ‘philza this does not sound lore at all please’ poor techno

00:27:30 HKJSFDL :crab: TUBBO IS GONE :crab: also i cant tell if techno says ‘KILL HIM DEAD’ or ‘KILL HIM, DAD’ 

00:30:20 ‘we should have a grinch episode, where i go around stealing presents from l’manburg’ DO IT

also i was in chat at 00:31:25ish and i said ‘subscribe to technoblade’ and RIGHT AFTER techno said ‘did i hear subscribe to technoblade?’ and i felt so heard 

00:33:25 why is his only response to being seen in enemy lines to just stay realllyyyyy still a;lkdfjasf 

00:39:45 ‘this is crucial information coming to you live from anarchy news’ A;LSDKFJA;LSDF

00:46:25 :CRAB: RANBOO IS GONE :CRAB: DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES 

alkdfja; 00:47:55 techno talks (sarcastically) abt how great it is when chat tells him where his stuff is

00:48:50 awww techno showin his not-dad his hound army!!! so cute 

00:55:30 techno specifies that theyre all characters/roleplayin!!!

techno talkin to phil is literally like a kid talkin to his dad after not seein him for a while. like yeah yeah family isnt canon in this but KSJDFLA hes like ‘phillll tommys being annoying also look at this new poster!!!!’ its so cute

01:09:20 A;SDJFADSL THE VILLAGER JUST. FALLS THROUGH THE FLOOR

techno nd phil reference smp earth at 01:19:50!!!!

(ik some people dont like enbyctechno so heres ur warnin, its just for this line tho) techno says ‘no one man should have this power’ but he HAS that power. therefore. mr c!blade is not a guy 01:35:00ish idk im not goin back to check

01:38:35 alright gang lets split up and look for clues 

01:45:20 ‘my chat’s sayin theres a 0% chance this is gonna work,,,,thATS A CHANCE I’M WILLING TO TAKE, CHAT’ skjdflasl;dfjaf (also, bit after, after readin the wiki say its 0% chance: ‘i like those odds’) 

01:48:15 [abt the zombie villager baby] 

Techno: on the bright side, we may have inflicted the optimal amount of trauma onto this child for it to become funny? 

Ranboo: ooooh yeah! it can become a minecraft youtuber!

techno: yeeeeeeah!!

pls get some therapy

a;ldkfassa the mental image of techno ownin an orphanage,,,,paldkfajslfasf 01:51:35

a;ldsifjasdklf ranboo is canonically a villager now, pog 01:56:50

01:57:50 ranboo: ‘they say that im built different, i am built different, in the fact that i have no moral backbone.’

01:58:30 BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD also why is techno so good at the bow like WHAT he looks in third person and turns nd shoots in like a second and hits most of the time its scary literally look at ranboo a;ldsjkfadsf hes like a porcupine 

ASKLJDFASLDF RANBOOS ‘OH NO HE KNOWS HOW TO OPEN DOORS’ AT 02:02:25 JUST HAS SUCH TECHNO SKYBLOCK VID VIBES ADLKJFALSDFJA OH MY GOSH

02:06:35 “i feel there has been an attempt on my life,” "no thats just how we greet each other in our country” nether lore pog?

02:08:45 why does techno casually type at 120 wpm?????  god i hate him so much why is he like thisssss ugh (also it took ~3 seconds to type 7 words (34 characters) which is 140 wpm and 680 cpm if i know how to do math i hate it here) /lh

nd then he types ‘punz we’re all outside your house get over here’ which is 47 characters nd 9 words nd it took him 5 seconds to type which is 564 cpm and 108 wpm so his average (from these two samples which. isnt a lot. should i do a post abt this in the future?) is 124 wpm and 622 cpm. hes so fast. 

SDA;FKJASDF PHIL WHY R U SO VIOLENT 

02:17:00 PUNZ POG ALSO MANIFOLD KILLED IN THE HOLY LAND

technos complainin bout the fights bein boring,,,,,,,fight them all, techno. do it. 1v8. do it, coward. 

02:24:02 ‘maybe the real combat was the friends we made along the way’ 

02:25:16 i love that technos first instinct when someone dies is to check what sword/axe killed them nd what enchants r on it aldskfjads

i love how techno calls the manhunt music ‘dream music’ its so funny to me

right before he ends the stream he says ‘p e r h a p s’ to techno plushies and i just,,,, wa n t 

if ya just want an actual summary and not that MESS:

Technoblade starts the stream in his house. the first thing he does is put another piece of fanart in his house, this one by snumkt on twitter. he goes to l’manburg, where he sneaks around very sneakily (/s) and replaces anti-techno propaganda with pro-techno fanart, stating that “If they take it down, it’s ‘cause they hate fanartists.” (00:09:18). 

While placing posters, Techno checks in on his hound army, and reveals that he thinks someone had been in the area, because a wolf teleported to him while he was home. He thinks someone placed water, the dog stood up, and then teleported. (00:18:25)

After breeding the dogs, Techno reads donations and one of the questions is about the SBI family dynamics. Here’s what he says at 00:20:55 

“‘Hey, are you uncomfortable with being part of the SBI family dynamic?’ Uh, I don’t really- it’s not a matter of being uncomfortable, it’s just a matter of people making massive revisions to my character and the lore three months into the story without telling me, and it’s like, ‘no, that doesn’t- the story doesn’t- so many things don’t make sense now! What?? What???’ but if you want to make like, fanart of it, it’s fine”

He then meets up with Philza, who is being escorted by Tubbo. Techno goes to Philzas house, and hides in his new basement. He joins their VC and finds Phil, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo. talking about birthdays. Tubbo goes to the basement and sees Technos invis particles, hits him, and he is revealed. Techno kills tubbo, and declares it canon as a joke. 

He goes back outside, deafened on Discord, and puts down more propaganda. Philza joins his call, and they meet up to try and find Technos stolen items. They don’t find the barrel, but they do find a hidden room under the podium. Techno puts a piece of propaganda in the room. (00:43:30)

While Phil is killing an enderman, Ranboo finds them, and is killed by Techno. (00:46:25) 

Techno takes Phil to see his Hound Army, but they’re stopped by Tubbo. Techno tries to pretend to be Ranboo, but Ranboo goes up to them, so his cover is blown. Techno’s chased to the portal. Phil and Techno meet again in the Nether, and they go back to the house. 

At the house, Phil and Techno talk about the SBI characters, the sellout timer goes off, and then they go downstairs to cure a zombie villager. While it’s curing, Techno gathers books to make a new bow, with Power V, Punch II, Unbreaking III, Flame, and Mending. 

Philza reveals that Ranboo is coming over to give Phil a present. Techno seems excited at this, mostly at the fact that Ranboo can be his new bows test subject. 

Before Ranboo arrives, the villager is cured, and they find out it is a nitwit, meaning it can’t trade or get a job. Techno and Phil start working on a tunnel to bring the villager to a lava pool, so the other villagers won’t gossip and raise their prices. 

Ranboo joins the call at 01:15:35, right before they’re going to bring the villager to the lava pool. He gifts Techno and Phil four Netherite ingots.

After struggling to get the villager to the right height, Techno forces Ranboo to boat the villager into the lava. Ranboo escapes by throwing a pearl, and the villager dies.

Ranboo, Techno, and Phil talk about duping Netherite, and the current plot, and then Techno finds a zombie baby villager. It’s caught in a boat, and Techno nametags it ‘Orphan.’ They talk about the cobblestone tower, Philzas’ death to a baby zombie, and how if you don’t see a child's parents, you should assume that they are an orphan and attack them. 

Techno talks to Jack Manifold through chat about his axe. Techno, Philza, and Ranboo go around and look for zombie villagers. Techno finds an igloo, with two villagers. Techno was going to try and turn them into zombie villagers, but decides to not when he finds out that theres a 0% chance of that happening on Easy mode. 

They all go back to Orphan, and bully it when they find out it still hasn’t grown up. Techno and Ranboo make a joke about how it’s traumatized, so it’ll be funny and can be come a minecraft youtuber. please get some help. (01:48:15)

After Orphan grows up, Techno trades and gets the Bottle of Enchanting trade for one emerald. They all joke about Techno owning an orphanage at 01:51:35.

Phil, Techno, and Ranboo decide go to the Hound Army, but Techno remembers that Ranboo is part of L’manburg, and tries to kill him (with his new bow) when they enter the nether. He doesn’t succeed, and he continues fighting until he drinks and invis pot on the Prime Path. Techno and Phil meet up in the Bee Dome, where Ranboo finds them. Techno tries to kill him, but runs out of arrows. 

After reading donations, Techno, Ranboo, and Phil are back together at the Bee Dome, and they decide to team up in case someone finds them. They go outside of the Dome, and chase Jack Manifold out of his own country.

Manifold joins the VC, and they try to blame Punz on his attempted murder. After Manifold says “i feel there has been an attempt on my life,” Techno says that that’s how he greets people in his country.

Manifold asks if they want to help him get revenge on Punz, and Techno agrees. They gather more people, and by the time they get to Punz’s tower, their party is Manifold, Techno, Phil, Ranboo, Fundy, and Antfrost. Punz is in the Nether, so they wait until he gets back. 

Ranboo and Techno have a whisper conversation:

Ranboo: are you just going to jump fundy

Techno: no im gonna make jack 1v1 LMAO

Ranboo: good plan

While Fundy is taking a screenshot of Techno for his thumbnail, Philza attacks Fundy with a crossbow and his sword. He claims it was because he was getting bored. 

In the same spirit, Techno asks if they could kill Manifold to pass the time. The mob, which now includes Fundy, chases Manifold. He runs to the Holy Land, and the mob boos him.  Techno tells Antfrost to kill Manifold, and that the mob won’t tell that he was killed in the Holy Land. Manifold hands Antfrost his sword. 

While Antfrost debates killing Manifold or not, the mob chants ‘peer pressure!’ at him. Techno quickly realizes that Antfrost isn’t in the VC, and is extremely confused. The sword gets handed to Fundy, who gets into a battle with Manifold. Philza tells Fundy that he’s forgiven, if he can kill Manifold. The battle calms, and neither of the contestants die.

Techno convinces the mob to go to the pit trap, and tries to lure someone onto the trapped blocks using rotten flesh. Fundy takes the bait, but moves out of the way before the button is pressed. Antfrost sneaks up behind him and punches him into the pit. Fundy survives the fall, but is shot by Manifold to death. 

During the commotion, Punz makes his way back to his house, and the mob moves towards him to end his life. Manifold says that he’s going to kill Punz, and Techno says that the mob’ll have his back. He tells the mob to not have Manifold’s back. 

at 02:17:00, Punz joins the call, and is confused as to why Manifold wants to kill him. Manifold explains that Punz tried to kill him, siting his source as Technoblade. 

also, 2:17:15 technoswear!

Techno encourages Punz, saying “Punz, he actually dropped his sword by accident and now I have it, so it’d be really easy to beat him up,” and “he also just killed in the holy land, so you have a sort of...religious motivation to take him out.”

Punz tries to fight Manifold without armor (Manifold is wearing a full enchanted set of armor, with a Netherite chestplate and everything else Diamond), which fails miserably, and Manifold is killed. 

Techno decides to fight Manifold with his goons (the mob) for the audience retention, and Manifold’s quickly killed. The final hit was from CaptainPuffy. Ponk rushes in and grabs some of Manifold’s items. Puffy takes the rest.

Manifold complains about getting bullied, so Techno gives him his sword back and tells him to avenge himself. While looking for Ponk (or Punz? this is kinda unclear), Punz swoops in and kills Manifold in two hits. 

Manifold finds Ponk and chases after him, trying to kill him. The mob follows, and Ranboo kills Ponk with thorns. Manifold takes Ponks stuff. 

Right after respawning, Ponk was blown up by a creeper, and Techno claimed both as canon. 

The mini fights continue, and Manifold is killed by Punz. 

Ranboo changes the ‘Days since last war crime’ sign to 0.

Phil tells Techno that he’s going back to the base, and the L’manburgians question him as to what base he’s talking about. Phil tells Fundy that he ripped off his ankle shackles and left. While they talk, Techno starts running back to the base, and Ranboo whispers “lets run back” to him. Ranboo follows Techno, but quickly looses him.

Phil and Techno join a separate VC together and they go back to the base. 

At 02:29:15, Phil says “I trust you” to Techno and I am going to cry. 

Right before getting to the base, Phil drinks some honey, and Techno says “that’s the only thing we have honey for, now that we’ve uh...uh I guess you don’t know about that.” He’s referring to the Vault, I think, because the redstone required honey to work properly. 

Philza responds, “the honey- wait, what did you use the honey for?” 

“uhhh....food.” Techno, for some reason, doesn’t want to show Phil the vault. 

Ranboo whispers to Techno: “My alliance isnt with lmanburg, its with the people who help me. phil helped me.”

out loud, Techno laughs about it with phil, saying, “well, I’ve stabbed him like twelve times this week, so, I [laughs] I don’t know if that entirely qualifies here.”

Techno messages Ranboo back with “new phone who this” 

Ranboo replies, “no one,” and then, “:)”

Going back to the honey talk, Philza asked if Techno had been hiding anything diabolical from him, and Techno asks if he would do such a thing. Philza guesses several things he could use honey for, such as a flying machine, TNT dupers, and a door.

Techno takes him to the vault. 02:32:00. i LOVE peoples reactions to the vault, it’s always so good. Philza responds with a surprised ‘HOLY SHIT’ and some laughing. Techno also confirms my math of 55 withers. 

02:34:10 “i’ve seen this government, on the server, and everything to do with government is just bad. I’ve watched it completely destroy and tear down people’s wills and change people, I’ve seen it change the nicest people into complete and utter tyrants, so...I think it’s about time--”

“We need revenge. [sellout timer goes off] and more importantly, we neED SUBSCRIBERS ON YOUTUBE DOT COM” phil joinin anarchy pog? 

anyway that was it ;alskdfjas;f

[act-addict-actors-matchups]

@kawaiiipandaa said,

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a matchup? This is my first time doing this, so please let me know if I'm doing something wrong! ^^; For starters, I'm a Cancer and I'm 157 cm [ 5'2 ]. I suppose you can say my most distinct physical features are my short hair and glasses. Some of my hobbies consist of reading/writing stories, sewing [ just learned last year but I'm pretty proud of the pillows I've crafted ], and occasionally sketching.

I dislike large crowds, most seafood and speaking out loud. Personality-wise, I can be pretty standoffish and aloof upon first meetings. As I grow more comfortable with an individual, I'm known to be easily-embarrassed, somewhat clingy but still very much awkward. I laugh at jokes even when they aren't funny and tend to space out at times. I have a hard time opening up about my feelings, so most say that it's hard to understand me.

I prefer for things to go how I've planned for them to and when they don't, I get anxious.

✧ Thank you so much for requesting a matchup. I literally have no idea when you send this and I’m genuinely sorry for the very long wait. Please look after yourself. I wish you good health and all the best! 💓

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; The first time you met Kazunari was via a mutual friend of yours. It really wasn’t that surprising, considering the fact that he is someone who can talk to anyone without any discrimination. And when you guys did meet, there wasn't anything special between you two― you were just his friend’s friend which was also in the same year as him, and he was just your friend’s friend. He would smile at you whenever you were near each other, maybe strike up a conversation and out of politeness, you would give him a small smile back, weirdly enough, that was all and your friend was totally depressed about it. They wanted you guys to be friends too, or maybe more than friends but you don’t know that😌. Sometimes your friend group and his would have lunches together, which wasn't rare but also wasn't common either. And you would occasionally share a laugh and coversation with the others along with Kazunari, but you were always closer with your side of friends. But one day, you've gotten sick but you didn't want to burden and worry your friends because their classes were still ongoing so you had no choice but to try and walk home before you fainted but that day was said to have a rainy weather, and when you were about to leave to the school gates, not caring if you’d get soaked or not, a familiar voice called out for you, running up to you. You were confused, nevertheless stopped yourself as you saw Kazunari’s figure coming closer to you. “Oh, Kazunari.” your hoarse voice was evident, but you tried to clear your throat anyways. “I heard you were sick and you had to go home.” he started off, “Here,” he handed you an umbrella you didn't notice he held on his right hand. “I heard that it was going to rain today and saw that you didn't have an umbrella.” Not going to lie, you wasn’t expecting that. “No i could't i―” "What? Could it be that you are falling for me? I just made your heart flutter, didn’t I?” He asked excitedly, only to receive a blank look from you, the unfamiliar thumping on your chest, butterflies in your stomache being unknown to him. “Sorry, sorry. I just couldn’t pass the opportunity to tease ya you know?” He said with a smile and continued. “Your friends wouldn't be happy since you're already sick, and I still some classes and a spare umbrella. Get well soon ♪.” As you accepted his umbrella, you walked home with nothing but Kazunari wondering in the deepest cevices of your mind that you didn't know existed. After that day, something kinda changed between you guys. Don’t get me wrong, smiling at each other in the hallways were still a thing; but there were a bit newer accompanies, the peach on your cheeks, and the nervousness on both of your nerves. The two of you would have a small chit-chats with each other even if it's just the two of you inside a classroom, occasionally laughing at a joke one of you had up your sleeves. You and Kazunari would hold unusual, and long gazes at each other― the one would also look at the other when they aren't looking, and vice versa. You get the point. It was some time after that kdrama kinda thing that Kazunari invited you to watch him perform at Mankai.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; You two compliment each other perfectly! If I had to describe your relationship it would be introverted found its extroverted and I think it’s really cute skdhskdhkdhd. He loves how easily-embarrassed and clingy you are because hello??? he literally finds you the cutest thing ever. I headcanon him as the type of boyfriend who hugs you from behind as soon as he sees you or just closes your eyes with his hands and asks “Guess who, cutie~?”. I wouldn’t worry too much about having hard time opening up about your feelings or being hard to understand. He may not look like it but this boy is perspective. Very perspective. I feel like Kazunari is naturally observant of others' behavior due to being overly concerned about what other people think of him. This helps him notice the tiniest details of others, including their habits and personality. He’s not the type of person who would force you to spill everything inside your head. Instead, he would let you know that no matter what, he’s here to talk. That he’s here for you. After all, he knows how it feel like to not voice the things inside your head because you feel like it would only cause unnecessary trouble for the receiver. Kazunari teaches you that love should be fun and full of joy. There’s no reason that loving someone should be completely serious and perfect; imperfections make love real, they make love unique. His impulsive way of loving you is uniquely him; he loves you deeply, and diving into that pool of bottomless love he has for you from the highest diving board with no lifeguard near sparks more joy in him than should be humanly possible. He falls in love with how fun it is to love— with how fun it is to be in love with you. 

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; Since you have a harder time with big crowds than him, who doesn't mind showy spectacles, he usually spends time inside for you because he doesn’t want you to become uncomfortable. But be sure to offer going on outside dates to him from time to time. Both of you are into crafting, so I can imagine you two making masks, drawing together or making collages. You just get together to hang out and decorate your masks. You can both do your own thing or have them based on a theme. Whatever works for both of you. Don’t worry if they turn out horrible, that’s part of the fun. Oh, and Kazunari will make sure to get some photos together after you finish and post them on his social media accounts. Also, you two have a fun drawing game, where one person draws one part, and then the other does the next part. Or if you want a really interesting picture, one person draws until a timer runs out and then the next person goes. Depending on how serious you are taking the game, the finished piece is usually either a masterpiece or something that neither of you can describe. Needless to say, you two get a good laugh on the later. Oh, also I hope you don’t mind PDA because Kazunari likes to show the world your good times. The conversation would never cease as you lay wrapped in his arms. One arm would be slung around your waist, and the other resting beneath your head. Usually cuddling with Kazunari would be playful, more tickling than actually laying around, but sometimes, like a lull in the storm, he would stop talking, choosing instead to bury his nose deep in the crook of your neck. The room would be cast in silence. As you laid beside him though his mind reeled. You were real. You were beside him, a goddess in a mortal world, and you were with him out of every person in this world. Of course you had faults, but they were what made you, you. “I love you.” He would say, breaking the silence of the room, and causing you to startle. He had to tell you though. For all he knew, you would disappear like the dream you seemed to be, when he opened his eyes again.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Kazunari’s birthday is on August 1, which makes him a Leo. Cancer and Leo both have a playful attitude and a desire for an epic, enduring romance. These two are neighbors on the zodiac wheel, and depending on the degree of their sun, they share many of the same cosmic energies. They are fun-loving and creative. Leo likes romantic gestures, and Cancer knows how and when to show sincere affection. Both are strongly loyal, even to the point of possessiveness, Cancer for safety’s sake, Leo for the sake of their self-confidence. They are also both committed to a enduring, rewarding connection. Since their desires are similar, a Cancer and a Leo may fill very important voids in each other’s lives. What’s the best aspect of the Cancer-Leo relationship? Their mutual commitment to a sincere relationship. Together this pair can share a supportive, positive and healthy vibe. People see them as a winning combination, and their mutual desire for a secure, loving relationship makes them strive for harmony.

[bittysvalentines]

Haus for the Holidays

From: @sexydexynurse

To: @tangotangredi

Summary:  Hausgiving with a Haus full of Frogs and Taddies is a bit different from previous years. Dex and Tango join forces to make it the best they possibly can to show their appreciation for their teammates and datemates.  Rating: T  I love everything you make for this fandom, so I hope that you enjoy this as a small way to give back to you. 

The early alarm wasn’t anything new. Sleeping in a different bed to keep from waking up his datemates when the early alarm went off wasn’t entirely unusual either. Pulling a giant turkey out of a bucket first thing in the morning? That was fairly unusual. 

Still, it had to be done. So, he pulled the bird out of the bucket and patted it down before settling it into the pan. Once it was in the oven, the oven was set to 500, and the timer was set to 30 minutes, he made it a little breastplate out of foil.

“Hey Dex.” Tango’s greeting was cut off by a yawn and Dex had to focus to keep from yawning in return. 

“Hey. You gonna start on the Pane Sciocco first?”

“Who you calling sciocco? I’m not stupid.”

Dex rolled his eyes while Tango smiled. “Did you pick this kind of bread just so you could keep making that joke?”

“No. It’s a good bread. And one of the few things I’m good at baking.” 

Dex snorted. Tango was a perfectly fine baker. Even when he did something weird, he got lucky and it worked out somehow. Someone just managed to convince him that he wasn’t as good as he was.

“I just didn’t tell you that most people outside of Tuscany call it Pane Toscano so that I could make the joke.”

He stopped and stared at Tango. The timer going off shook him out of it and he pulled the turkey out to apply the breastplate and insert the probe thermometer, then turned the oven down to 350.

“You cook turkey weird.”

“Whadya mean?”

“First, it’s in a bucket, now it’s in armor.” 

“It’s gonna taste good, though.” 

There was a pause. “The bucket makes it taste good?”

“The brine.”

Dex started pulling things out for prep. The pies were already ready, and the chocolate pie would stay in the refrigerator and be served chilled. The appetizers were all ready to go. Those could all be put on the kitchen table, out of the way, for now. He passed Tango his premade and formed pasta and his bread dough starter. Then he started piling things. Pre-prepped potatoes and sweet potatoes, the ingredients for green bean casserole, cranberry relish, wild rice dressing, a roast, and the rest of the stuff Tango needed for his baked two cheese rigatoni. 

Dex stared at the pile. Logically, he knew they’d planned on how to get everything ready on time. That’s why the potatoes were all pre-peeled and chopped. It’s why the pasta was rolled and the pies were made. It’s why they had three crock pots. But so many things still needed to cook. It was just Tony and him. And if he was honest, people probably expected them to fail. 

“How does the brine make the turkey taste good?”

Tango’s question stopped the train of self doubt. He and Tango had this. If people expected them to fail, those people were about to learn a thing or two. 

“So, like chemistry and biology right?” 

Tango nodded while he stirred yeast into water and then started helping Dex sort the ingredients for side dishes while Dex explained how salt helped break down the proteins in the meat and kept them from contracting and squeezing all the juice out.

“Now, some chefs say it makes the turkey watery rather than juicy, but.” He paused and shrugged. “Been making it with Alton Brown’s recipe for years and it tastes good to me.”

Dex paused to get the roast into a crock pot and cooking, and by the time he was done, Tango’s yeast water was foamy. Tango started working on the bread in earnest while Dex transferred the potatoes and sweet potatoes into their own crock pots. 

Three days before, Nursey had shown up with two extra crock pots that he said were on loan from friends. Dex decided not to question it considering they weren’t in boxes and he <em>had</em> spent a day the week before considering the pros and cons of installing a second oven in the Haus. (He talked himself out of it when he decided that, probably, once Tango graduated, no one would use the oven they already had).

After the crock pots were slow cooking the potatoes and roast, and the bread was set aside to rise, Dex and Tango took a moment to stretch. Then Dex’s phone went off. It was actually lucky that it went off then, because he’d just washed his hands and could answer without getting anything dirty. 

“Something important?”

“Last of the RSVPs. Looks like other than the seven of us who live here-”

“Does Cait actually live here?”

Dex tossed his head to indicate it didn’t matter. 

She was there most of the time. The only reason he didn’t consider Matt to live there was that the Taddies had agreed that the Haus was Whiskey’s space to be with Ford and Tango. Whiskey visited him across the street. 

“Other than us, Matt, Hops, Bully, and Louis and his datemate, we are going to have four Spawn. We’ll have to do a kiddie table for them.” 

“Your table isn’t big enough?”

“Nah, it’ll fit twelve in a pinch, but there’s no way sixteen will be comfortable to eat.”

“Is sixteen not good? You look weird.”

Dex considered making a self-deprecating joke, but stopped himself. “It’s fine. I just hoped more would come. We invited the whole team, but half had already made other plans. I just want everyone to feel like they’re equally included.”

“I get it.” Tango held out a fist. “We’re gonna make the best Hausgiving dinner yet for our teammates and datemates.” 

Dex bumped Tango’s fist with a small smile. “Ayuh. We are gonna do that.” 

<hr>

Dex and Tango didn’t cook together every day. Sometimes they traded off, sometimes they were on roadies. Sometimes everyone just had plans. But they’d cooked together often enough over the past three months that they quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, even with the more complicated menu for the holiday. 

When the TV turned on to the parade, that was a clear signal that it had hit 9 AM. They both stopped to wash their hands again because it meant other Hausmates were awake. Dex wasn’t at all surprised when Whiskey and Ford were the first two into the kitchen, briefly fitting themselves around Tango for hugs and kisses. Dex <em>was</em> surprised when the next person through the door was Nursey, who quickly enveloped him in a hug up against the counters. 

Dex allowed himself to melt into Nursey’s embrace. Until Nursey pulled away suddenly with a gasp.

“Chill!”

Dex furrowed his brow and followed Nursey’s gaze to see Ford spinning a tea towel to prepare to snap it. 

“Stop using affection to distract your boyfriend so that you can steal food and you won’t get snapped.” 

Dex widened his eyes and looked at Nursey in faux shock. “You were just using me to get to my food?! Cait! Come collect your boyfriend.”

Cait suddenly appeared and leaned in for a kiss on Dex’s cheek before linking arms with Nursey. “He’s my boyfriend now, huh?”

“Ayuh. I don’t have any boyfriends that would use me just to get to my food. So he must be yours.”

“Dex!” 

“Can’t be my boyfriend. I don’t have any boyfriends who would try to circumvent me when I’m on guard duty. Must be Chris’s boyfriend.” 

“C! Do you hear this?” 

Dex looked over Nursey and Cait’s shoulders to see Chowder walking out of the kitchen.

“Just because you’re still my boyfriend doesn’t mean you get any of the stuffed mushrooms. I get them because I’m a good boyfriend who stayed out of the kitchen.”

“C!”

Nursey and Cait followed him out of the kitchen and Ford started heading towards the door also, giving Tango’s hand one last squeeze. 

“You guys are so weird.”

Dex ignored Whiskey’s mumble. It was accurate, after all.

“How did he get the mushrooms if he didn’t come into the kitchen?”

“Goalie powers.” 

“Oh.” Tango nodded. “What do we need to do now?”

“Right.” Dex turned back towards the food so they could regroup. “The cranberry relish is pretty much ready.” 

He looked at it and then stirred a bit where Nursey had scooped out a bite. At least Nursey hadn’t used his finger directly in the food this time.

“I don’t want to start the stuff for the rigatoni until it’s close to when it will go in the oven so it doesn’t separate or get weird.”

“That makes sense. The dough still needs to rise, right? I think that can go in right after we pull the turkey, so it has some time to rest also. We should check the potatoes and sweet potatoes. Then,” he paused and looked around with a sigh. “Um, I guess then I can start on the gravy and we just need to prep the green bean casserole and the dressing.” 

“What if they eat all the appetizers and want more?”

Dex looked over at Tango slowly. “If they eat all the appetizers, they’ll have to wait until we serve the meal like the rest of us, Tony.” 

<hr>

The thing about cooking for Hausgiving is, there’s a lot of work, but there’s also down time because there’s a lot of waiting for things to cook. But it wasn’t safe to leave the kitchen, either. So, it was lucky that Dex and Tango enjoyed spending the wait time together. 

Once everything was prepped or made that could be before the turkey came out, they sat at the kitchen table and played cards while chatting. Tango had a lot of things he was interested in knowing, and sometimes Dex had answers. He was more than willing to explain the difference in strength qualities of types of wood (which ones were stronger on a horizontal force like for shelves versus which were stronger with a vertical force like for posts) or how the electrical components of a dryer work. 

A little after they heard the tv change from the parade to the dog show, Hops managed to lean around Ford and stick his head in the door, not actually entering the room but highly supervised.

“Hey, do you want me to turn it to the Vikings game, Dex? I know you like football.”

Dex looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Do I <em>look</em> like Johnson?”

“Who?” The question was in near perfect sync from both Tango and Hops.

He shook his head. It would be too difficult to explain the weird goalie that he’d only met briefly. “No. Leave it on the dogs. I think Nursey and Cait are watching and I want to see how the Newfs do in the working group.”

Hops smiled. “Ok!” Then he was gone. 

Dex decided to take the interruption as a chance to check the turkey temp. They were hoping for a 2 pm meal time, and the turkey would need to rest before carving. Plus there were still things that needed to bake, and not all at the same temp.

“Looks like it’s nearly at temp. The Pane Sciocco starts at 450, right? Is it ready to go in?”

“Yeah. Ok.” 

<hr>

The next couple of hours seemed to go by faster. Checking dishes, getting the oven to the right temp and changing what was cooking, making sure everything was ready to serve. Dex tried to go out and set the tables, but Ford and Cait blocked him in the kitchen and said it was taken care of, so he backed off with his hands up in surrender.

“Final headcount is sixteen.”

“It’s taken care of. Worry about your green beans.”

“Ayuh. Green beans. That’s me. Jolly Green Giant.”

Nursey’s voice was somewhat muffled by the intervening wall, but still audible. “Grumpy Ginger Giant!”

Dex rolled his eyes, but did go back to do another check on if the food was ready. They’d decided that it made more sense to use the kitchen table as a serving table rather than have people reach over each other to try to get food on the main table. 

Finally, Ford and Cait let them out of the kitchen and Dex double checked the dining room before calling everyone to eat. The table was…. It was beautiful. There was really no other way to describe it. Someone had managed to squeeze in one of the card tables on the side of the room with an extra four settings. Somehow, they had 16 place settings of the same dishes and cutlery so everything matched. There were small candles and flowers and stuff as centerpieces. 

He wasn’t sure what to say, but he was sure he should say something because Chowder was watching him with big eyes. “This is really nice. It’s perfect.” 

Chowder fist pumped and grinned while Whiskey and Bully quietly fist bumped behind him. 

“I’d like to say something before we get the food.” 

Dex turned at Tango’s words to see the rest of the group crowding into the room behind him. He shifted around so that people would have more space if they wanted to spread out.

“I think, Thanksgiving was built on lies and shitty stuff.” He paused and glanced at Ford and Nursey who both nodded slightly. “But Hausgiving. Hausgiving is different. It’s our own holiday and it’s built on team, family, friends. It really is built on sharing and trust. I hope we keep doing this.” He paused and smiled. “And I hope you all like my Nanna’s Pane Sciocco.” 

“Don’t call me stupid!” Lucky, one of the Spawn, piped up from a corner. 

“Hey! That’s my joke!”

Dex couldn’t help himself from joining in the rest with a quick laugh at Tango’s indignation of having his Italian joke used against him. He stood back and waited for everyone else to get their food before joining the end of the line.

It was a good team. A good family. He was lucky to have them. And next year’s Hausgiving was going to be in good hands.

[one-piece-drabbles]

Tempest

Notes: It’s been too long since I’ve written anything even remotely wholesome, so here’s something nice in these trying times. Also, hello, I’m alive.

Length: 5k

He’s a pirate. That’s the first thing Nari thinks when he walks into her tiny café, grin on his face as he chats with her father. Her father, who has never once abandoned his greeting post outside the door to continue a conversation with a customer in his twenty years of working it.

She doesn’t know how she knows it. It’s certainly not experience; her island is a footnote in the Grand Line, so small that most log poses don’t even acknowledge its existence. Only a trade agreement with a larger island nearby keeps them on the maps. Pirates don’t come here. Marines don’t come here, at least not often. The last group came by more than three months ago.

The pirate is abruptly at the counter, leaning on it with both elbows and looking up at her like she’s the most important person he’s ever seen. It’s enough to set her face aflame.

“Your father tells me you make the best fruit tarts on this half of the world,” he says.

From behind him, her father clears his throat, and she finds her voice. “I’ve never heard a complaint, if that counts.”

His smile widens. This close, she can see that it’s a little crooked, a little rough around the edges. Maybe that was what tipped her off when he walked in. That, or the knife strapped to his belt. Combined with the orange hat that has to be askew on purpose, the tattoo on his arm, and the unmistakable air of a swashbuckler around him, he can only be a pirate.

“Good enough for me,” he says.

Nari goes to get one from the little display case by her left knee, only to remember that she sold the last one ten minutes before the pirate arrived. She purses her lips, then stands. His gaze is far more curious than impatient when she meets it.

“We’re sold out,” she says, and before the disappointment takes hold, tacks on, “but I can make you a fresh one, if you’re willing to wait.”

“For what your dad promised? Absolutely.” He leans back, slides into a stool. Sits there as comfortably as any of Nari’s regulars. As he moves, the cords of his hat shift, making the animal skull they connect to move over his chest. Then his stomach growls, and he goes a little red under those freckles of his, though not as red as the beads of his necklace. Nari wonders if her freckles look as endearing as his; with her olive skin, they’re certainly harder to notice from far away.

His voice turns sheepish. “Been on the water for days; I didn’t ration right.”

Her father, though he has retreated back to his post outside, clears his throat again loudly enough for Nari to hear. She shakes her head a little and tries to remember at least some of the customer service that’s been drilled into her since she was old enough to understand the concept of money. Putting on a bright smile that is only about a quarter faked, she starts filling a glass of water. How she managed to forget even that basic service, which she should have performed the moment he sat down, she doesn’t know. No wonder her father is hovering; she’s forgotten all of her training.

She takes a breath, then picks one of her many conversation starters, tweaked to have a little personalization. “So what brings you to our island? Was it just a need for food?”

A pleasant breeze laced with the salty tang of the sea blows through the slatted wooden partitions that make up the entrance wall. The pirate drains half of the water she sets in front of him and shrugs, but the relaxed air to it undercuts any apathy.

“No, I like to visit out-of-the-way places,” he says. His eyes gleam. “Never know what you’ll find out here.” The gleam loses its edge, and his smile takes on a flirtatious tint. “Like delicious pastries baked by beautiful women at lovely island cafés.”

Her blush, which never fully went away, comes roaring back. Nari busies herself with taking her apron from the hook just outside the kitchen door and doing up its various ties. “You’re quite the flatterer.”

“It’s the truth.” When she sneaks a glance his way, there is nothing even remotely disingenuous about him. Evidently, he can turn the charm on and off as he pleases. “Is this your family’s place?” She nods, and he looks around with an appreciative whistle. “You must be proud.”

“It’s been in our family since my great-great-grandma founded the island,” she offers, and his eyebrows shoot towards the brim of his hat.

“Really? Did she found the café too?”

How he finds this history so interesting, she doesn’t understand, but she wants to keep him talking. His eyes have this sparkle to them when he gets excited that she doesn’t want to go away. “Yes, with her husband. They did all the carvings on the brick.” Finished with the apron ties, she gestures towards the other two walls of the café that are not taken up by wooden shelves full of various trinkets collected over four generations of café owners. That honor goes to the wall behind her, which separates the main space from the much less tasteful kitchen.

“I saw those same designs on the shutters of all the homes here. Is it a tradition?”

“Unofficially. We just like how they look, I guess.”

“Huh.”

Another cleared throat from outside, and Nari nearly slaps her forehead. The pastry. Right. “I’ll start making your tart. Just call if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do.”

It’s a good thing she prepares fresh cream and dough each night; all that chatting really ate into her cooking time. It’s never good to keep a customer waiting. She starts heating the oven, then pulls the dough out of the icebox, leaving the custard for later, and lays it out on the counter. She lifts the parchment paper to lightly flour one side, then flips it over. Her trusty metal rings—which, according to her mother, have been passed down since her grandmother’s time—are still in their place of honor on a shelf over the sink, so she grabs one. It, like all is fellows, has tons of tiny holes punched through its gleaming surface.

She pushes the ring into the sheet of lemon-yellow dough and lifts, and the circle of dough that will be the base comes out perfectly. Setting that to one side, she cuts a strip out of the remaining dough. After years of practice, she doesn’t even need to measure it; it fits the circumference of the ring perfectly with just the tiniest bit of overlap on itself. After she presses the dough into the ring, pushing it into those tiny perforations without having any actually go through, and also presses the connecting seam between the base and the sides, she cuts the excess sticking up over the top of the ring and slides the whole ensemble into the special freezer. An invention of her father’s, it freezes the dough far faster than a normal freezer without damaging it. It took him six years to get it working right.

While the dough cools, Nari cleans off the tools she won’t need for the next steps and lays out the ones she will. The mesh oven mat makes an appearance, one section of it still a little uneven from when a much younger Nari had misused it in her baking experiments.

The special freezer beeps. She transfers the pastry onto the oven mat and then into the oven itself. While it bakes, she prepares a glaze for the fruits, using some apricot preserves she had made the previous week as a base. She hesitates on the final ingredient, glancing towards the door.

“He’s a pirate, he’ll like it, won’t he?” she says to stuffed dragon she had, as a child, declared the kitchen supervisor. It now rests in a place of honor by the door where it is far from any fires. It doesn’t answer, but she takes its silence as an affirmation, and so puts a tablespoon of brandy into the bowl. She warms up the glaze, strains it, and sets it aside for use later. Its aroma fills the kitchen, making her mouth water, but she’s sampled enough of her own work already to push aside the old urge.

She glances into the oven as a perfunctory check, but as always, the sides of the shell are holding their place, no sign of collapsing.

The cream emerges from the icebox. She whisks it until it’s more pliable, then puts it into a pipe.

Since the oven still has five minutes on its timer, she heads back out to the counter to check on the pirate. He’s moved from his seat to stare at the old bounty board on the left wall. It’s the first time she’s seen his back, and the sight takes her breath away. The tattoo on his arm is simple, understated, just letters. But the one on his back is a massive cross made of purple bones, with a grinning purple—mustached?—skull in the middle. It’s a Jolly Roger, but whose, Nari has no idea. Unlike her late grandfather, she and her father have never had a great interest in following the drama playing out every day in the Grand Line. They just like visitors. Maybe her father saw that tattoo, and that was why he was so excited to talk to this pirate. Or maybe the pirate just made a good impression; her father has always appreciated politeness.

Still, it’s good form to talk to guests. Nari refills his glass while calling, “Looking for yourself up there?”

The pirate glances over. For a moment, his expression is sharp, dangerous, but it clears like a cloud passing in front of the sun, so fast and strange that Nari dismisses it. Of course he’d be on his guard after seeing bounty posters, but there aren’t marines here. She quickly clarifies her words, not wanting him to feel unwelcome.

“I’m afraid you’ll be out of luck; those are all from my grandfather’s era,” she explains. “He loved to collect them and put them up. My father and I just haven’t found the time.”

The pirate ticks an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that everyone puts up the bounty posters these days.”

Nari shrugs. “Not us. I just think those are nice decoration, you know? All back from before the craziness now.”

The pirate glances back at the board, expression, for a moment, inscrutable. “Craziness, huh?” Then that easy smile comes back. “It’s pretty neat, I’ll give you that. I haven’t heard of most of those guys.”

“Neither had I.” She passes him his water as he returns to his seat. She doesn’t know why she feels comfortable enough to joke around a man so obviously dangerous, but she’s speaking before she can question it. “I can tell you a lot of stories about them, if you’re interested.”

The pirate leans forward. “I might be.”

Unsupervised by a brain too focused on the way his soft black hair frames his face, her smile turns completely genuine. “They’ll all be made up, of course.”

He blinks, then barks out a laugh. “Guess I should’ve seen that one coming.” He shakes his head. “You got me,” he trails off, and she realizes abruptly that she hasn’t given her name. Her father, as though realizing she would be looking towards him in that moment, gives a pointed look from the doorway.

All her years of hospitality, and all it takes is one pretty face about her own age to make it all go flying out of her head.

“Nari,” she says, and sticks out a hand.

“Nari,” the pirate repeats, shaking it. “I’m Ace.”

His skin is warm, distractingly so, and calloused. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ace.”

She will never get enough of that grin. “Likewise.”

Ace takes another sip of water. “That tart you’re making smells great,” he offers.

“Thank you, though it’s really just the glaze right now.”

“What kind of glaze?”

Nari bites her lip. It’s always a risk to deviate from the recipe, but Ace’s presence alone invites a little mischief. “Apricot brandy.”

She guessed right; Ace’s expression lights up with anticipation. “Well, now I’m really excited.”

“I just hope my tart lives up to expectations.”

“With the way your father talked about it, I’m sure it will.”

As though cued, the oven beeps. Nari excuses herself with an encouraging wave from Ace. While the dough cools, she takes out various fruits from the icebox. Mrs. Truli, the old woman who tends to the orchards and farms on the other side of the island with her family, will make her biweekly delivery within the hour if she’s on time, but Nari doesn’t want to keep Ace waiting. The slightly older refrigerated fruit will still be delicious.

She washes and slices strawberries, kiwis, and peaches, putting them on a small plate, then repeats the washing for the last of her blackberries. That part of the preparation done, she returns to the dough and lifts the ring off easily, putting it by the sink for washing later.

The cream pipes into the shell easily. They are almost identical in color, though the cream is a gentler yellow. On top of the cream goes the fruits, artfully arranged into a delicious rainbow of color. As the final step, Nari brushes the still-warm glaze over the fruit, making it shine. She plates the ensemble, drizzles chocolate around the edges for presentation, and gives it one last visual inspection.

It looks, in her humble opinion, damned good. Ace, when she brings it out, straightens up immediately.

“That looks amazing,” he says, staring at it hungrily. She sets it in front of him and steps back to take off her apron.

“It’s all yours.”

He picks it up, spending a couple seconds tilting it this way and that to find the best angle of attack, and then takes a bite. The shell cracks under the pressure, a couple pieces falling before getting stuck on his face thanks to the cream.

Ace sets down the pastry, pushes the errant bits stuck to his face into his mouth, chews, and swallows, nodding in approval all the while. He takes a drink of water, then grins at Nari once more. “Do you have a rule about sharing this recipe? I’ve got a friend who’d love to try it.”

“Mom never said anything about a rule like that,” Nari says, and Ace’s smile turns radiant.

“Awesome.”

As he devours the rest of the pastry, making approving noises all the while, Nari pulls out a piece of paper and scrawls the recipe, making sure the include the specifics of the ring and the brandy she added to the glaze.

A breeze, far stronger than before, blows through the café. Nari’s apron flutters, and she’s too distracted holding down the recipe note to see the glass ship catch the wind and fall from its perch on the highest shelf. It shatters against the floor, intricate clear sails and cabins reduced to so much powder. Nari shrieks despite herself. Ace is on his feet, looking ready to vault the counter, but the wind abates, and no other ships fall.

Her father darts inside, almost slamming the door and pulling the storm bolt closed. “Nari! The cover!”

Acting on reflex, Nari sidesteps the glass shards and yanks the cord hanging all the way on one end of the shelves. A heavy brown tarp unrolls from the ceiling. Her father joins her behind the counter, and together, they secure the cover over the shelves. The trinkets are safe.

Glass crunches under her shoe, and she winces. Most of them.

The wind blows again. Their furniture is heavy enough to resist all but the most violent gales, but that’s no reason to leave everything exposed to the rain. She and her father work together to carry the removeable wood panels out from the small storage closet in the kitchen back out to the front, where clever notches and latches hidden among the wooden diamonds.

Quite abruptly, the panel they’re carrying gets lighter, and she glances over to see Ace holding up the back end.

“I don’t like sitting and watching,” he says. Nari, grateful for the help, ignores her father’s prideful shoulder-straightening. With his assistance, they finish quickly, leaving one last step.

Her father tells Ace to stay inside, and he does, more curious than worried. He has to know about the sudden storms that plague the Grand Line, and their preparations have hardly been subtle, but he doesn’t look concerned about the inclement weather at all.

They have to temporarily undo the storm bolt to get to the shutters. Outside, the wind howls, and clouds so dark they’re practically black have rolled across the sky. They have less than a minute until the rain starts, so Nari hurries, lashing the storm shutters closed. She catches glimpses of their neighbors doing the same; soon, they’ll all be huddled inside, waiting out the storm behind locked doors and shuttered windows.

She closes the last pair just as the rain hits. Cold and stinging, it pelts her skin like tiny needles. Nari holds up an arm to shield her eyes and meets her father by the door, calling over the din of the water on the stucco roofs that she’s finished. They both duck inside, her father puts the bolt back in place, and Nari falls into a chair.

“I’ll never be used to that,” she admits to the ceiling.

A clap of thunder loud enough to rattle the glassware makes her jump. The rain comes down even harder, drumming against the roof and beating against the shutters with every shift of the wind.

Without natural light, the café is dark. Her father fetches a couple lamps from storage and lights them, putting one in front of Nari and one on the counter. After a minute, Ace shifts from his spot at the counter to plop into a chair at Nari’s table.

“Guess I’m not leaving for a while,” he says. Nari manages a chuckle.

“I guess not.”

Another rumble of thunder shakes the earth. Ace absently fiddles with the tassels beneath the strange skull charm attached to his hat’s strings. In the firelight, the smiling and frowning faces resting on the brim of his hat look pretty creepy.

Lightning shines through the tiny gaps in the shutters and wood planks, casting the whole café in an eerie blue glow that battles the warmth of the lamps before it fades. The relief is temporary: flash after flash streaks across the sky. Nari stares past Ace, at the front door and the storm beyond, and sighs. Her fresh fruit delivery will have to—

“Wait,” she whispers. Ace glances at her, but Nari ignores him and turns to her father. “Did you see Mrs. Truli before you came in?”

For a moment, he’s confused, but then realization dawns, and he shakes his head. “No.”

Nari purses her lips, but she can’t stop her knee from bouncing. “You don’t think she got caught in this, do you?”

Her father, trying too hard to look relaxed as he sweeps up the glass behind the counter, shakes his head. “I’m sure she headed home the moment the sky changed.”

She couldn’t shake her feeling of dread. “Are you sure? She was supposed to be here—” she glances at the clock, only to realize it’s behind the tarp—“well, any minute now, I think. What if she was almost here and couldn’t go back in time?”

“She’s fine, Nari.” Her father disappears when he crouches to sweep the remnants of the ship into the dustpan, but Nari can still hear the shards skittering over themselves between waves of raindrops loud enough to be bullets. He stands and empties the dustpan into the trash bin.

“Who’s Mrs. Truli?” Ace asks, looking between the two of them. Her father sighs.

“She delivers our fruit twice every week from her orchards across the island.”

“It’s not that far,” she clarifies. “I mean, we’re a small island. It’s only a mile. I’m just worried she got caught in the middle of that. She’s in her seventies, and there’s a stretch where it’s just grass. She’d be in real trouble if she got caught out there. Everyone’s got their houses closed now; they might not even hear her if she asks to be let in.”

Ace casts his gaze towards the door, with is shaking, ever so slightly, in its frame as the wind buffets it. “I’d imagine.”

The longer she thinks about it, the more worried she gets, until she can’t sit still. She stands.

“Nari—” her father starts, but she ignores him. Going through the kitchen and up the stairs to the café’s small second floor where she and her father live, Nari rifles through her things until she finds her raincoat. She jams a baseball cap on her head to keep the water out of her eyes and hustles back downstairs to find her father waiting in front of the door with his arms crossed.

“You’re not going out there,” he says. As though to reinforce his point, another rumble of thunder breaks through the rain. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll only go halfway,” Nari says. “Her family’s probably looking through the other half right now. They’d trust me to do the same over here. I’m not letting them down.”

Her father is unmoved. “Too dangerous, Nari. You don’t even know if she was on her way here; you’re putting yourself in danger out there without even knowing whether there’s a reason or not.”

Nari hasn’t raised her voice at her father in years, but right now, she can’t help it. “She could be in trouble!”

“As will you, if you keep this up!”

“I have an idea.” Ace’s voice, a calm counterpoint, is unexpected enough that it snaps Nari out of her whirlwind of worry. She’d completely forgotten about him, and judging from the surprise on her father’s face, he had too. The pirate is still at the table, but he’s looking at them with one hand tipping his hat up to avoid any shadows over his eyes. “I can look for her.”

Her hopes lift, but her father’s frown remains. “I couldn’t possibly ask a customer—”

“You’re not asking,” Ace interrupts, his usual manners pushed aside by urgency. “I’m offering.” He stands, pushing the heavy chair aside like it weighs nothing at all. “Besides, I’m a pirate. I don’t handle people telling me what not to do all that well.”

“Still,” she says, recognizing her father’s complaint, “it’s terrible out there.”

Ace shrugs. “I’ve been through worse. I know what it’s like to worry about someone in a storm. Which direction is the orchard?”

Nari gives brief directions, though she knows landmarks and signs won’t be useful in a storm like this. She almost has to shout to do it. With how hard the rain is coming down, Ace probably won’t be able to see more than a few feet in front of him. Ace takes it all in with a level of calm that she can’t help envying.

Her father still won’t move from the door. Behind him, rain pounds against the wood hard enough to make it shake. For a few seconds, he faces off against Ace, who, while not a giant, still manages to make him look small. Then he sighs.

“Be safe,” he says. Ace nods.

Nari helps her father with the bolt; the moment it comes undone, the door leaps against their hands, shoved by winds that howl through the café like an invisible beast. Ace braces himself against it, shouts that he’ll be back soon, and staggers into the storm.

It takes them several seconds to get the door shut again. When the bolt slides into place, Nari lets out a huge breath. Her hands are shaking. She takes herself back to the table and sits. Her father, equally shaken, sits next to her. He rests his hands in front of him, squeezing them together.

Knowing she’ll feel too guilty to do anything but wallow if she looks at him, Nari chooses instead to go into the kitchen. Regardless of whether Ace finds Mrs. Truli or not, he’ll be coming back inside from the freezing rain and bitter wind. Something warm would be best.

The hot chocolate ingredients—the ones that can be stored for a while, all but untouched in the summer months—are a little dusty but otherwise serviceable. She assembles them on the counter in the kitchen and pulls out a pot to put on the stove. Whole milk, heavy cream, vanilla extract, brown sugar, and cocoa powder all go into the pot over medium heat. She stirs slowly, attention turned towards the door to the main room. She’d undoubtedly know when the door opened, but she can’t help checking every couple of minutes.

Her father comes in and out of the kitchen several times with armfuls of blankets, pillows, and towels. She is very careful not to let him see her small, satisfied smile.

The powder and sugar have all combined, so she pulls out mugs for later and leaves the pot on low heat. After helping her father arrange his relief station by the door, there is little left for her to do except wait.

When the pounding comes at the door, it startles both of them despite their vigilance. Nari is first to her feet, and she yanks the bolt out of the way. The door flies open, nearly pinning her to the wall before she slides out of the way, and Ace stumbles through. Nari fights the door shut and her father puts the bolt back into place. Panting, Nari circles to Ace’s front, trying to make sure he’s okay.

His hat has been blown onto his back, and his hair hangs around his face as a shiny, wet, windblown mess. But, in his arms, he holds Mrs. Truli in a bridal carry. He’s even brought the two baskets of fruit, which are slung over one arm, pinned until Nari and her father can get Mrs. Truli out of his arms. While Mrs. Truli, gray hair dripping and clothes plastered to her wrinkled skin, shakily accepts her father’s help, Nari takes charge of the fruit.

It’s waterlogged, drowning in the baskets too well-woven to let the water escape. She takes them to the kitchen, sets a strainer in the sink, and dumps them out. She can clean it all later.

When she hurries back to Mrs. Truli, she draws up short. Ace is steaming. He catches her look, then glances down, where his clothes are dripping all over the floor. He quickly grabs a spare towel, but that isn’t at all what Nari has been focused on. Mrs. Truli isn’t steaming, so it isn’t as though the rain outside has suddenly become boiling instead of freezing.

“Ace,” she says, trying to be polite instead of deeply confused, “why are you steaming?”

He pauses in the middle of rubbing the towel around his leg, says, “Oh, I ate a devil fruit,” and then continues as though he did not just say something absurd. Sure, Nari knows what a devil fruit is, but she’s only seen one in her twenty years of life, and it belonged to a marine captain passing through when she was a child. Even her father and Mrs. Truli share looks of shock.

“Really?” Nari manages.

“Yeah, the Flame-Flame Fruit.” He raises a hand, the other still occupied with the towel, and it bursts into flames. Just as quickly, the flames go out, leaving untouched skin behind. Ace nods at Mrs. Truli. “She was really cold when I found her, so I tried to run a little hotter than normal on the way back to warm her up.” He moves the towel up to his hair, which is also steaming. “Figured I’d just keep doing it, since I got pretty soaked. I’d turn to fire now to dry off, but I don’t want to scorch your floor.” He glances up in a disconcerting indication that he’s measuring how high above him the wood beams are. “Or your ceiling.”

“Thank you,” she says, hearing her own voice like an echo.

They tend to Mrs. Truli while Ace continues to steam. Mrs. Truli is fine—chilled and embarrassed about getting caught unawares, yes, but fine. Nari finally remembers the hot chocolate she prepared and pours it into the four mugs, adds marshmallows, and then brings them all out on a tray.

Mrs. Truli gets hers first, followed by Ace, then her father. Nari gets hers last and sips it slowly. They have all gathered around the nest of blankets, pillows, and towels that Nari and her father set up. By some silent signal, Nari and her father sit down to be level with Mrs. Truli, though not before her father brings a lamp over for better light. Ace follows suit a moment later. He’s still steaming, but the wisps are becoming thinner and less numerous. His hair almost looks dry, though his boots audibly squelch when he sits.

For several minutes, it’s enough to sit there in communal silence, drinking hot chocolate and listening to the roar of the storm outside. Ace has a decidedly non-pirate expression on his face while he stares down at his mug, which he holds in both hands. Despite his devil fruit, he seems to be enjoying its heat.

She doesn’t know if it’s a rude question, but Nari can’t keep it down. “Are you travelling alone?”

Ace starts a little, another sign of how deep he was in his own head, and then nods. “Yeah, for a bit. A friend of mine got me a boat, and I’ve been testing it out.”

So no crew, then. Pretty rare. “A boat for one person? Like a kayak?”

Ace’s lips twitch. “Not exactly. She’s pretty fast.”

“What’s her name?”

“Striker.”

“Sounds—” intimidating—“intense.”

Only after she speaks does Nari realize that she was able to talk at a normal volume. She glances up, listening. The rain is still coming down, but the thunder is far away, the lightning so distant it barely reaches the room.

“Looks like the worst of it is done,” her father says. “Won’t be much longer now.”

While the storm breathes its last, Nari collects the empty mugs. On her way back out of the kitchen, she catches sight of a stray piece of paper blown onto the floor. The recipe. She’d never actually given it to him.  

Ace is by the door, chatting with her father and Mrs. Truli, who is looking much better than twenty minutes ago. He has his hat back on his head, and his boots aren’t squelching anymore. Nari overhears her father tell him there’s no charge for the fruit tart. Ace doesn’t protest.

“Here,” Nari says, holding out the paper. Ace lights up, taking it and stuffing it into the little blue pouch on his leg.

“If I ever come back here, I’ll let you know how his compares,” he promises.

Nari can’t help her smile. “I’d like that.”

He leaves, the door closes, and Nari’s smile remains.

She’d really like that.

[prorevenge]

Sexually harass me and think you're getting away with it? Find out that I get by with a little help from my friends.

First post, and a REALLY long one, I’m so sorry. Obviously on a throwaway.

This was awhile ago, way before the Me Too movement, before stuff like this was taken seriously. Additionally I feel a need to re-iterate that this was not revenge wrought solely by myself, but also by some of the fantastic guys I worked with, and the brave women who also stepped forward. They deserve credit as well.

TL;DR at the bottom.

---

I was working and going to college in a high-tourism area in one of the lower states, getting my Bachelor’s in Hospitality. I loved the company I worked for, and my university was practically partnered with them, so initially my life wasn’t super hectic. Go to class, go to work, and go home. At some point though, the branch of the company I was working for started to cut hours, a lot. As a part-timer, this meant I was among the first to have their hours chopped. Around this time, I was also told that I needed a third internship for my degree, and it couldn’t be in the same place I had been in. (They had already counted that position as internship #2) Because of this, and helped by the fact that I was barely getting by with my reduced paychecks, I went to the career center to ask about jobs in the area, and they recommended me to a nearby golf course that needed employees.

Relevant Info: To explain the backstory on the management of this golf course: it was run by a third party management company, operating under the umbrella of a massive hospitality company. This is not unusual for golf courses, the golf industry was/is hurting and frankly this is the only way for most of them to break even. While I was technically working directly for this third party, I was also listed as a “contractor” for the large umbrella company.

My upper boss, the director, was okay, if not a little oblivious. The assistant director under him was a jerk, and the string of supervisors under him were hit or miss. When I started, I was the only woman on the operations side of the team. You had several groups: The pro shop guys (also supervisors), the beverage/snack girls that ran the snack stand and the carts that buzzed around the course, the course starters (usually older, retirement age, been with the company a long time), and the ground operations group (where I was). Most of the ops guys were wary of me at first, but after they saw that I was willing to do as much of the manual labor as they did, they accepted me. I didn’t love my job, but it was a paycheck and it counted for my degree. It was a lot of manual labor: lifting clubs, baskets of practice balls, running from one spot to another, shifting golf carts around throughout the day, driving big course equipment, and lots of guest interaction. Everything was okay, and I was learning a lot, until one of the older ops guys (let’s call him Bob) got promoted to supervisor.

Bob had been stellar as an operations guy, but around the time he got this promotion, his wife also filed for divorce. His home life took a steep nose dive, and unfortunately it carried over to his work ethic. We all felt bad for him, and initially tried to help as much as we could. As time went on though, Bob went from being sad and depressed, to being an outright asshole. He was in his mid-40’s and started crashing gatherings with all of us 20-somethings. This wouldn’t have been an issue, except he started aggressively trying to pick up girls wherever we went. He became the textbook case of the sleazy guy that would get roaring drunk, and complain “She didn’t respond to my creepy flirtations, so she must be a b*tch”. I stopped going to these group outings for this reason, along with several others. His behavior was making a lot of us uncomfortable.

Eventually, his creepy behavior rolled over to work. He would be AWOL for hours, out chasing down the cart girls. When he wasn’t doing that, he was sitting in the club storage area regaling the younger ops guys with his stories of “conquests”. I tried to stay away as much as possible, but there were several shifts where I was assigned to deep clean the rental clubs, or re-stock equipment, and then I couldn’t get away. I won’t go into detail on some of what he did, but it was bad. Major sexual harassment. Some of the lighter instances were suggestive comments about my appearance, or “let me show you what you can do to your boyfriend” –with matching hand gestures. I felt I couldn’t quit because I only had a few months or so left of my time with the job before I graduated, and I needed that internship credit. Going to the director and the guy under him went nowhere, his answer was to pull Bob from the course to “apologize” to me, and then “…go on and give her a hug! See? Everything is fine now!” I felt totally powerless, but got some sage advice from my dad to start documenting EVERYTHING. Dates, times, location, witnesses, and what Bob was doing.

After seeing how the director treated his infractions, Bob started getting bolder and less careful. These harassment events were beginning happen in full view of several of the other guys. One afternoon, two of the starters that I had become close with happened to walk into club storage right as Bob made one of his sexually-charged remarks. Bob seemed not to notice them, but I saw both of their eyebrows shoot up. One of the guys started to get visibly angry and had to be quietly pulled out of the room by the other. I made a lame excuse to leave the room right after this, ducking Bob’s grab, and ran outside. The two starters were standing not far away, speaking in low, angry tones. As soon as they saw me, they waved me over, far out of earshot of the other employees and Bob. They asked for an explanation, and I told them everything that had been happening, including how the director had treated me when I went in to complain. They were incensed. Immediately, they physically walked me back into the director’s office, and shut the door behind them. Keeping me between them, they told the director what they had witnessed, what they had heard, and if he didn’t handle it the way he was supposed to, by company policy, they would go over his head and report it to the umbrella company themselves. The director was startled, but calmly told them that one witnessed incident was hardly reason to go to “corporate”, and that this issue had already been “handled”. This was when I finally chimed in, re-iterating that the sexual harassment had only gotten worse, that I had a 4 page word document at home with countless time stamps and witnesses, along with the record of how he previously “handled” my complaint. A document that I would not hesitate to email to whoever needed proof, per the starters’ advice. We saw the blood physically drain from his face, and he asked us to step out so he could make a phone call. I ended up finishing the rest of my shift with the starters, then went home.

When I showed up the next afternoon, the jerk under the director came out and asked that I run back home to get a copy of my reporting’s. He also said that we had to sit in on a group call with the umbrella hospitality company in about 2 hours. During this time, they sent Bob out to monitor the course so he wouldn’t get suspicious. What I didn’t know, and found out during the meeting, is that in the span of one evening and morning, the other cart girls had somehow gotten wind of my report being taken seriously by the director. (I suspect the starters mentioned it to them)They came in, nearly the entire female snack staff, to pile on their own harassment claims. It was no longer one minor female “peon” reporting him, it was now a massive group. The director knew they had a problem. The umbrella company requested that I read my entire record during the call, and when I got to the bit about the “hug and apology” that the director had requested, he looked like he wanted to become one with the carpet in his office. When the call ended, the voices in the phone requested to speak with the director alone, and the rest of us (me, assistant director, starters, and the third party company rep that had been asked to come in) filed out of the room. After about 10 minutes, we were called back in. The director was silent and pale, and the voice in the phone promised me that I wouldn’t be bothered anymore by Bob, and to contact them directly if I had any further problems.

They sent me out to the other side of the course, to keep me away, while they then called Bob in to the office. I didn’t witness what happened, but I was told later that Bob came storming out of the office after about 10 minutes, kicking golf carts and throwing things as he left. Yelling out to the other ops guys in the vicinity that “all women are b*tches!” as he went to his car. Not only had been fired, but he was further statused as a no-rehire, and BANNED, with/from ALL the courses (run by both the umbrella company and the third party, who owned/operated a sizeable list of properties) in the area. The director eventually was transferred out to a smaller course, and the jerk under him was moved as well. We got a much better management team in to replace them, and I was able to finish my time with the company with no further issues. I am happy to say that I still keep in touch with the starters and other guys to this very day.

TL;DR I was continuously sexually harassed by my supervisor, but was finally able to get justice with the help of my coworkers, and he lost his job while also being blacklisted from all courses in the area.

(source) (story by Iwritenovels1234)

[slytherhell]

Send these to your favorite Authors and let them blab! What is your total word count on AO3? How often do you write? Do you have a routine for writing? What’s your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing? Do you have a favorite fic of yours? Your fic with the most kudos? Anything you don’t like about your writing? Now something you do like! Send it to some of your favorite Authors to spread some love

//////

Total word count on AO3 : 60634 ( and this is with the 3/4 of my fics still not updated since being posted. i’m not sure how it’s this much already, the word count, that is. the most amount of words i’ve written - for a total fic - was about 5k words; then it went up to 16k+ after the food fair entry . just think of how big my total word count could be when i get my writing muse back! )

How often I write: I used to update regularly, back in about 2015. Every day, I would have a new chapter for my fics (on Wattpad, because that was my first main writing platform, but Wattpad’s dead now so we’re here.) 

In fact, I used to have a full writing plan; I had about ten hp fics on my account. I picked out the top ones I had the most muse for - which was three, two drarry and one wolfstar - and told myself I would update those fics whenever I felt inspired to. 

In the end, I ended up updating those fics three times every week for a good two months, and I had about 24ish chapters for the drarry fics, and close to 20ish chapters for the wolfstar ( I started that fic at a later time than the other two. )  

I kept this pattern up, and made sure that everyday after school, I would clear a writing space for myself on my bed so I could write. That helped me a lot and I had so many creative juices...it was insane how much I wrote.

Now, however, I write only whenever I feel inspired to and have enough time + energy ( aka, when I don’t pass out from exhausation and not working on too many things in school - I had and still have a lot of /art/ projects. )

I try my best to write all of my ideas down, but I usually don’t have much inspiration to turn them into longer fics, or anything beyond a simple idea, so most of those get chucked and forgotten.

The ones I do manage to keep around, I usually scribble down the idea on a piece of paper, and write a starter line and/or paragraph to see how it would look if I were to continue it as an actual fic, then determine what I do with it when I get home.

There’s no true definition as to how much I write. I would just say I write depending on my current mood and situation.

Writing Routine: 

It used to start in either a swivel chair in the corner of my room, or at the wooden dining room table with a hot mug of fruit-flavored tea. ( It now varies from sitting upright on my bed with music blasting out of my headphones, on the living room couch with the low murmur of the t.v. in the background, or laid sprawled out on the floor with a Kubz Scouts video in the background. )

I try to take a few minutes to write the beginning paragraph on paper, or at least attempt to outline the story ( this usually lasts for about five minutes because I CANNOT sit still, and I’ll fidget a lot if I’m required to sit still for a while. ) 

I’ll usually look up fics of the similarity to whatever I’m writing, and get further story inspiration from them ( I’ll usually keep those fics up in a seperate tab to read back over when I need help and/or a burst of writing  inspiration )

If it’s something I‘m not quite sure about, or something I’m not properly educated on, I ALWAYS do a good bit of research before even remotely writing about it. ( This is something I do NOT skip over, like at all. )

I’m almost always blasting music or video audio through my headphones whenever I write ( I search and listen to music when I write, depending on the theme and the feel of the story. If I’m writing fluff, you’ll probably catch me listening to beautiful piano music. If it’s a dark story - gods, I love dark stories - I’ll be listening to dark music, be it dark piano versions of songs, ambient horror music. And lastly, if I’m writing something emotional, I’ll usually stop by songs that made me cry and sad as child, or that cause me to zone out of reality in present day. )

I try to set a timer whenever I write. ( While it intimidates me, it also pushes me to write more because me eyes are constantly flicker over to the timer, and the closer I see it move down to zero, the faster I write and edit. I kick in about a good twenty words at the very start of the countdown. )

( And unless you wanna hear me rant about how much I get off task and procrasinate writing whenever I can’t figure out how to make a scene work or something of the sort, then this is pretty much it. Oh, and I do a few read-overs and editing when I’m done with the first rough draft. )

Kinks in Fics:

I really like a good ‘ol leather kink in a fic ( specifically when the second half of the pairing, *cough, cough* draco in a drarry fic* is pulling on and stretching on leather gloves, and I blame @mzuul for that because the minute I saw her Draco Malfoy Bad Boy series art, that kink was developed and I’ve loved it since. ) 

Another one, this is gonna sound really gross + suprising for those that know me, but watersport kink. ( This was first developed when I read my very first fanfictions, and I found a few good drarry fics with this in them so this kink is here to stay )

Hair pulling kink. ( It started out with reading fics fics where Draco would either accidentally or deliberately tug on Harry’s hair, and Harry ended up loving it - but now, I read fics were both Draco and Harry have this kink because it’s actually really good. )

Praise Kink ( Started out with only Harry, but I also like fics where Draco has this kink. I blame @goldentruth813 entirely )

Hung! Harry ( Hung! Like! A Horntail! - this, this fic, is all i’m going to say..) 

Parseltongue Kink ( When! Draco! has! this! and! Harry! somehow! still! keeps! his! ability! to! speak! Parseltongue! and uGH,, THIS IS SO GOOD. ) 

Tropes in Fics:

Legitimate! Enemies to Friends to Lovers

sLOW BURN

Sectumsempra angst

Bi Harry

Pansy is a lesbian

Draco finding out how the Durshleys treated Harry and becoming absolutely lIVID at the news

Dark! Drarry

BAMF! Harry

BAMF! Draco

When they cross paths after a few years and get to know each other + proper character developement + when they clash and they have their ups and downs, causing people to wonder how they’re even comptaible but in the end, they make it work and are able to settle down with each other and enjoy the rest of their lives.

wHEN! THEY ANIMOSITY! STAYS!

Long-haired! Draco

Bearded! Harry

aUROR PARTNERS

Raising a kid together ( tEDDY-! )

pINING

mUTUAL PINING

Sassy! (Canon) Harry

Flustered! Draco

When they’re equally sassy and equally ruthless + being able to get their shit done, and staying on top of their game

When their kids become friends and that forces them to become friends as well and hang out with each other more often

When their kids wants their dads (Draco and Harry) to end up together and make it happen

when it’s hella fluffy

when it’s hella aNGSTY ( haha, chaotic neutural )

Top! Harry!

Bottom! Draco ( I can see them both as either or both being versatile but I really love when Harry tops )

Realistic first times 

Their friends setting them up ( I love when Draco, Pansy and Blaise are best friends in fics like this !! )

The constant switch of calling each other by first and last names, depending on the(ir) mood

When they are eQUALS

When they still have bANTER AND STILL ARGUE BUT W/O THE PREVIOUS HATE

When their relationship is real and raw that you can pratically feel it

hURT AND COMFORT ( real heavy on the hurt, just a bit on the comfort bc not drarry all fics have to have happy endings )

Anything involving them both working on a case together

Auror! Harry x Unspeakable! ( or even Healer! ) Draco

Jealous! Draco x (Still) Oblivious! Harry

Oblivious! Draco x Jealous! Harry

Protective! Harry ( Protective! Draco as well )

Beauxbatons! Draco x Hogwarts/Gryffindor! Harry

fORCED PROXIMITY

Multilingual! Draco

French speaking! Draco

Wandless magic ( for both )

POC! Harry ( This is my number one things in fics...I just love POC! Harry

Proper mention and represenation of Harry and/or Draco’s PTSD; following the war

Power couple! Drarry

Pairings:

Drarry ( OTP )

Pansmione

Linny

Blaico 

+ a few hundred more ( for all of them, but the kinks in general ) , but you’re probably gonna have to ask off anon bc i don’t wanna lose to remainder of friends i still have left on this site, over this post. ( i keep forgetting that not all drarry accounts follow me - i have some rpers, general artists, people following me with their main acounts + multifandom blogs and i feel like every time i get started up about anything drarry, they just...regret their decision to have followed me xD but you can kinda get the gist of my kinks, right? )

Favorite Fic ( of mine ) : While I constantly dog on my own writing skills, I actually do have some of my fics that I love. But my most favorite?  I’d have to say ‘(Fuck A) Silver Lining’

It’s a Draco Malfoy redemption fic I began writing earlier this year ( and yes, it was inspired/influenced by the P!ATD song. )

I mean, I haven’t updated it since I posted it - I began writing it on old Wattpad before I left that hellsite, then I later posted it to my ao3.

It’s my favorite because I really got to explore and go more in depth with Draco’s character, unlike J.K. R*wling.

And I basically filled in all the pieces that led up to the part of Draco’s life  we witness ( well, y’all, bc I never read it, ha ) in C*rsed Ch*ld 

I basically combined in every post-war Draco headcanon I ever thought of into one whole fic and while it takes you into his mind and shows you just how much the war has changed him, it is actually wholesome. I mean, we’ve got angst, hurt/comfort, finding love, and I even had a few scenes that were so fluffy and pure that I was crying as I wrote - which is why I haven’t updated. Other than dealing with shit irl, this story gets me really emotional and I just love it so much..

Fic with most Kudos:

‘just the right addition’ with 65 kudos.

summary :

harry has a leather kink. but draco didn't know that when he showed up on the field in a leather jacket, and suede leather gloves.

What I don’t like about my writing: 

I really don’t like how I transition from scene to scene in my fics. I feel like they’re extremely sloppy and really ruin the story; especially if I had a really good idea/path for the story. ( I also don’t like how I constantly compare my writing, then try and force to change my writing style so it sounds half as good as the author’s writing style of the story that I’m reading )

What I DO like about my writing:

Um, I really like how I start most of my fics off with dialogue. I like how I have a lot on the page, but it still blends in well to get its point across. And also, if it’s a one shot, I like how I have a beginning, middle, and end for the story.

Beginning: Introducing the prompt, and what’s going on with it

Middle: What the characters actions lead to, kinda showing you where it’s going to be heading soon

End : the general idea of the ending/aftermath of it + something like an epilogue, wraps things up in a way.

/////

Thank you so much for sending me this, anon!!

Again, thank you so much, and I hope you’re well!

-Teia

[jaiashokmahtani1]

The Jai Ashok Mahtani - Guide For Beginner Electric Guitar Brands

I jai Ashok mahtani and I shared you in our previous blog post, we talked about some beginner brands for acoustic guitars and the subsequent guitar models from those companies that are best suited for beginners. And in continuation, today I bring you the Jai Ashok Mahtani guide for choosing an electric guitar brand as a beginner. Now you might be a first timer in the world of guitars, or you might be a proficient acoustic guitar player shifting or trying out the power of the electric guitar for the first time, but please don’t worry; the electric guitar contrary to the acoustic guitar is easier as well more fun to play. So I hope this short, brief guide will be helpful to you as a beginner. I have included three brands that I think would be the best suited for electric beginners and 3 basic models from said brands. The Brands Brands matter a lot when it comes to an electric guitar. They matter a lot in acoustic guitars as well, but a poorly constructed electric guitar will either produce a shaky quality of sounds or not produce sound at all. And keep in mind that electric guitars are quite expensive, so a good brand and reliable brand is a must to go for if you are a newbie who is indulging in his passion for the guitar. Many classic electric guitar brands have been endorsed by legends, but for a beginner, I will be listing down the 3 brands that I find the most trustworthy in the market. Epiphone Epiphone is the most trustworthy electric guitar brand out there, period. The company was acquired by the CMI group in 1957 and started making guitars in 1982. If the company CMI sounds familiar, it’s because it also owns the legendary Gibson guitar brand. With the combined forces of a large conglomerate and the pioneer of guitars at its backside, Epiphone has taken over the electric guitar market through both sensation and quality. Many rock stars like The Beatles’ Paul McCartney and Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day have used Epiphone and it is regarded as the ‘it’ brand when it comes to electric guitars Yamaha Yamaha is at it again! With its low prices and extreme built, Yamaha continues to dominate the beginner market in both acoustic and electric guitars. Beginners tend to go for Yamaha guitars as it provides the user with quite a punch for a considerably low amount of money. Not only is Yamaha a great value for money option, but it can also compete with various premium brands. You can find many seasoned electric guitar players still rocking a Yamaha guitar onstage as Yamaha models come with simplicity and that crisp Yamaha sound, in addition to being soft on the pocket. They are vintage, have those recognizable Yamaha high-quality notes, work for seasoned players as well, and are generally regarded as the safest option for a newbie looking to buy his first electric guitar without splurging on Les Pauls. Fender Close your eyes and think of a classic electric guitar. Chances are that you are thinking of a Fender model. Fender is another reliable company that has been in the electric guitar game since time immemorial. Its guitars are crisp and powerful and are affordable too. Many of its starter models are perfect for beginners as not only are they affordable but also come with that Fender reliability. They are incredibly easy to play and give a total beginner a sense of familiarity as Fender guitars are some of the most popular newbie guitars! The Models Since we have talked about the best beginner guitar brands, we now have to move on to the models of the aforementioned companies that are best for newbies as many of them make guitars for professionals as well. You can learn your way through a guitar made for an expert with enormous time and effort, but it would be easier if you pick out a model that has been designed to assist the un-calloused hand. Epiphone Les Paul 100 Electric Guitar Oh yes, you can get a Les Paul guitar as a beginner model. The Epiphone Les Paul 100 is an excellent guitar for all beginners as it comes with separate tone and volume controls. The interface is extremely user-friendly and as expected from a Les Paul guitar, the build is fantastic. It is made up of Mahogany wood, producing crisp premium sounds. The Epiphone Les Paul 100 has the classic Les Paul look, produces beautiful sounds, and has a very affordable price tag. I don’t see any reason as to why a new student would not want to pick up this classic beginner guitar that has everything going for it! Yamaha Pacifica Series PAC112V Yamaha guitars as mentioned before are not only extremely affordable but also well made. They sound worldly and please a beginner and a seasoned pro alike. The Yamaha Pacifica Series PAC112V ( a complicated name but not a complicated guitar haha) is exactly what you would expect from a Yamaha guitar: Pristine built quality that does not burn a hole in your wallet. It comes with a maple bolt-neck and rosewood fingerboard, with a classic tremolo with block saddles. With a price tag of 299$, you can have the reliability and the Yamaha sound in one package. A great choice for both beginners and pros! Fender Modern Player Telecaster Thinline Deluxe Fender has provided us with some of the classiest guitars of all time, guitars that don’t skimp out on quality because they can bring in the customers solely on their name, guitars that perform well under all circumstances. The Fender Modern Player Telecaster Thinline Deluxe is a perfect all-rounder and the best choice if you are a beginner looking to get a long-term companion at the start of his journey into the world of music. It can be tuned easily and offers both aggressive as well as sweet tones all the while looking like hot as fire! It is a safe choice and a long-lasting choice. Perfect for an acoustic player switching over to the electric guitar. About me: I Jai Ashok Mahtani, I like to sing, dance and my favorite musical instrument is the guitar, so you can also call me a guitarist.

[dipulb3]

Fitbit Charge 4 review: Built-in GPS and better sleep tracking, plus it's pretty

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/fitbit-charge-4-review-built-in-gps-and-better-sleep-tracking-plus-its-pretty/

Fitbit Charge 4 review: Built-in GPS and better sleep tracking, plus it's pretty

The Fitbit Charge 4 ($150 at Best Buy) has everything you need in a fitness tracker for under $200. It finally includes built-in GPS to track outdoor workouts independently, it has better training tools for athletes, and it fits most of the same smartwatch features into a slimmer package than the more expensive Fitbit Versa ($185 at Amazon). It’s my favorite Fitbit yet. If you’re looking for a fitness tracker than behaves a lot like a smartwatch without the extra bulk, the Fitbit Charge 4 might be the perfect fit. 

Like

Sleek, minimalistic design

Heart rate zone notifications

Compatibility with iOS and Android

Sleep tracking and analysis

Don’t Like

Low visibility in direct sunlight

No quick reply for messages on iPhone

Shorter battery life than the Fitbit Charge 3

Added features without the added bulk 

There are plenty of great wearables for athletes, like the Garmin Forerunner 945 and Suunto 3, that have way more fitness chops than the Charge 4, but they’re not the most fashionable. The $150 Charge 4 (£130, AU$230) is a tracker I will happily wear 24/7 thanks to its sleek, understated design. If you’re familiar with the Charge 3 ($116 at Amazon), the new version doesn’t look much different — it’s just the tiniest bit bulkier on your wrist. 

The screen can only display in black and white, but I like that it’s nearly half the size of a traditional smartwatch, such as the Apple Watch ($399 at Apple), and it also does away with physical buttons. Instead, you control the Charge 4 with a combination of the touchscreen and by pressing the left side of the tracker to navigate settings. The touchscreen isn’t as responsive and it takes a few seconds to light up when you raise your arm to wake the screen, but I eventually got where I wanted to go. The only time the lag really bothered me was while I was running and wanted to quickly glance at my stats without taking my eyes off the road. Like the Charge 3, it’s also hard to see the screen in direct sunlight. 

The regular Charge 4 comes in three different colors with silicone sports bands, but the Special Edition, or SE, version that I tested out also comes with a woven band option for $20 more. Straps are easy to swap out (unlike the Versa 2 ($200 at Best Buy), which has tricky toggles) and if you’re upgrading from the Charge 3 you’ll be able to use those bands on the newer tracker. There are also a bunch of third-party strap options available to customize your look. 

The Charge 4 is comfortable to wear throughout the day and doesn’t dig into my skin when I tighten it up during a run. You can also wear it to bed. Like other Fitbits, it also tracks your sleep. I won’t go as far as to say that it’s comfortable to wear in bed, but at least I didn’t want to rip it off in the middle of the night like other trackers. 

The Charge 4 pushed me to run faster

As a basic fitness tracker, the previous Charge models already checked most of the boxes: measuring steps, calories, floors climbed, heart rate and distance (using your phone’s GPS). But that wasn’t enough for more serious runners like me. I’m by no means an elite athlete, but I do run on a regular basis, so having a built-in GPS is high on my wish list. The GPS allows the Charge 4 to map your route during an outdoor walk, run, bike ride or hike without having to rely on your phone. 

I’ve gone on a few runs and the Charge 4 has given consistent distance readings on the same route with and without my phone. You can also see a heat map of your route on the Fitbit app, which also indicates the intensity at which you were running based on your heart rate. 

The only other Fitbit device that offers built-in GPS feature is the Ionic ($199 at Amazon) watch, but it’s now over two years old and I found it too big and bulky to wear on a regular basis.

Vanessa Hand Orellana/CNET

The Charge 4 tracks over 20 different activities, from cycling to yoga. It’s also water resistant up to 50 meters like the Charge 3, so you can use it for swimming. You can program up to six exercise shortcuts on the Charge 4, but you do have to choose them and sync from the phone app. You can also set it to track your runs automatically, and set goals for things like pace, distance or calories burned before you start each activity. 

GPS is not the only tool for athletes. The Charge 4 has added a new metric called Active Zone Minutes, which uses your heart rate zones to determine the intensity of your workout. The goal is to have 150 active minutes logged by the end of each week, but you can increase or decrease the target based on your fitness level. 

A few years ago, Fitbit started breaking out heart rate data into training zones for each activity, based on age and weight. After a workout you can log into the mobile app and see how long you were in fat burn, cardio or peak. The Charge 4 adds real-time heart rate zone notifications so you can take action during your workout. 

I had to push myself much harder than usual to get my peak heart rate alert to pop up on the screen (you also get a buzz on your wrist when you reach each zone). I realized I’d been overestimating my effort and it was helpful to have the Charge nudging me to get out of my comfort zone. I can see this being a good training tool if you’re looking to break your personal record in a race.

Battery life takes a hit

The only downside about having GPS on the Charge is that it’ll gobble up your battery a lot faster than on the Charge 3. Fitbit says the Charge 4 can last up to seven days on a charge, but I barely made it to day four before having to plug it in.

I didn’t mind having to recharge after four days, but if you’re looking to get the most out of your battery life (and are planning to use it at night) I would recommend turning off the GPS when it’s not in use. You’ll just have to remember to do this after your workout. You can do this from the exercise shortcuts on the Charge. Just swipe up from an activity that uses GPS, like running or cycling, and toggle it off. 

Sleep tracking has some serious benefits 

I’ve never gotten much out of tracking my sleep in the past. With a 6-month-old baby and a toddler waking me up at odd hours of the night I was scared to even see my stats the next morning, let alone get graded on my sleep. Each morning, the Fitbit app gives you a Sleep Score based on everything from sleep duration to sleep stages, heart rate and variations in blood oxygen levels, aka SPO2. 

After a few nights of testing, it’s actually provided some useful data about my sleep habits. For starters, I’ve gotten a passing grade (above a 60) every single night, despite waking up to nurse my little one. The app told me it’s normal to spend up to 45 minutes awake each night, which was comforting. It also gives you advice on how to improve your score, like keeping your bedtime consistent, regardless of how late (or early) it is. 

Vanessa Hand Orellana/CNET

Everyone can see basic information in the app, like how much sleep you get and its quality, but Fitbit Premium subscribers get access to heart rate and blood oxygen data. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in my chart, but I can see this feature being extremely helpful for people who suspect they might have a more serious sleep-related condition like sleep apnea. In that case it might be worth the extra $9.99 (£8.99, AU$15.49) a month for a premium account. 

There is one foreseeable downside: With all this sleep data I worry that I might become dependent on the Sleep Score to feel energized during the day. That is, a low Sleep Score may subconsciously make me feel tired, even though I felt like I got a good night’s rest. 

More than just a fitness tracker

The Charge 4 goes beyond health and fitness tracking with a few smart features up its sleeve. It mirrors every notification you can get on your phone whether you have an iPhone ($699 at Apple) or an Android phone, but only Android users will be able to reply to messages with preprogrammed quick replies. 

You still can’t store music onboard to take with you on a run, but if you’re a Spotify Premium subscriber, you will be able to use the Charge 4 as a basic wrist remote to pause and skip tracks. There’s no volume control though. 

It now also includes a new agenda app along with the existing timer, alarm and weather apps. 

You’ll be able to set up Fitbit Pay on your wrist and use the Charge 4 on any tap-to-pay payment terminal as the tracker now comes with built-in NFC (previously, you had to buy the special edition Charge to get Fitbit Pay). Sadly it still doesn’t have as many bank partners as Google or Apple Pay and was not compatible with my primary bank (US Bank), so I couldn’t test it out. I’m also quarantined at home, so most of my payments are made online anyways, not at brick-and-mortar stores. 

Everything you need in a tiny package

The Charge 4 does a lot considering it’s essentially a fitness tracker. But you don’t end up saving that much compared to a smartwatch like Fitbit’s own Versa 2 (the regular Charge 4 is $50 less than the Versa 2, which only has connected GPS).

So the price alone is not reason enough to choose the Charge 4. For me, it’s about getting everything Fitbit offers, including GPS, in a slimmer package than the Versa 2. The Charge 4 is my favorite Fitbit to date.  

First published on May 18.

[just-another-winchester]

You Need To Take The Plastic Off!!

Request?/Not really

Pairing/ Dean x reader

Warnings?/ fluff,

Word count/3,378

Plot/ Dean tries to cook a turkey while its still wrapped in plastic, derived from a prompt.

A/N: This was written for @spn67-sister for her 700 follower challenge! I know I strayed a bit from your prompt darling but I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it!! I think you’re amazing. Also shoutout to my awesome editor @impala-dreamer for saving me from posting this unreadable mess! I hope you all love it! Thank you!!

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to cook a turkey.

Or at least you thought it didn’t.

It was November, your second Thanksgiving with the guys, and you had spent the majority of October teaching Dean how to cook a damn turkey. The man could cook, he’d helped you make dinner plenty of times. He’d grill burgers, cook bacon, stick a roast in the oven, the works, but aside from grilling burgers and frying french fries, you knew the man was somewhat lacking in the cooking department.

For Thanksgiving this year, you had invited Jody Mills and her girls Alex and Claire Novak. You had also invited Garth, but were unsure if he would make it as he hasn’t said anything yet. You had asked him to give you a heads up so you would know whether or not to put cow heart on the table… actually no, that was a bad idea. You had wanted to invite Chuck, but you weren’t sure how to send the invitation. Should you pray? You were pretty sure that God didn’t have a P.O Box address.

All the same, you were excited, the bunker finally wouldn’t feel so empty; you would have friends and loved ones around you to make the holiday a good one. Still though, with all the joy of having friends around, it left you with the reminder of a few missing friends.

Cas for starters; the loss of your angel friend had been a hard one. You and Dean were caught in a loop where you would have your moments of missing your wonderful winged companion, and then there were other times where you would be there for Dean or Sam. In the long run, it was a rush of pain that you couldn’t avoid.

Still, you decided to look forward. You chose to believe Cas wouldn’t want you to dwell, and the thought that he wouldn’t want you to dwell was the only reason you were able to help Dean and Sam; it was partially why you had chosen to have this dinner. Sort of a memorial to everyone’s favorite fallen angel.

You pushed aside your sad thoughts, reminding yourself, Good vibes, Y/N, good vibes.

You had been sitting at the large table in the bunker, books surrounded you as you continued to read a few recipes you wanted to try for Thanksgiving. Even though few people were coming, you wanted to make sure no one went home empty handed. Besides, when you were a child, and still had a normal life, Thanksgiving leftovers were your favorite thing. They could last until the next Thanksgiving it seemed sometimes.

Suddenly, an aroma filled the air. You smelled it, at first just in passing, until it clouded the air. You scrunched up your nose at the smell before looking to the kitchen, remembering you had stupidly left Dean in the kitchen… alone… with an uncooked turkey. After telling him he couldn’t cook the turkey.

Oh no.

The moment you realized what was happening, you heard a voice from the kitchen.

“Y/N! A little help!” You heard Dean’s gruff voice call out to you.

You rushed to the kitchen to see Dean with oven mitts on both hands, the oven door open, and smoke billowing from the appliance.

“Dean!” you called out, frustration lacing your voice as you said his name. You rushed over to him. You had to admit, the scene was funny, seeing the broad man in his red flannel shirt, standing there with an apron and oven mitts. His only weapon was a wooden spoon, which you really wished he would keep away from the coming fire.

You groaned at the man as you approached the oven, the smoke lifted in the air, surrounding you. You coughed as you grabbed the spoon, tossing it to the sink before grabbing the oven mitts right off his hands.

“Go see if you can find a fan somewhere!” you told him, waving at the smoke as you bent over, trying to grab at the contents of the oven. You reached out, grabbing the pan that the turkey was in. Surely it couldn’t have been in the oven for very long, the smell only came about around a minute or so ago, but the pan was completely heated. You grabbed at the pan, but the heat soaked through your mitts, and you felt it burn on your hands.

“Shit!” you yelled, dropping the pan. You checked the oven mitts, they were charred, but not burnt through at all, the heat must have just seeped through the thinner fabric.

Dean came running in at your shout, a small desk fan in his hands as he looked at you, silently asking if you were okay.

You coughed, waving the smoke away from your face as you pointed to the fan above the counter.

“Turn them on!” you yelled at him, wishing you had remembered to turn on the kitchen fan earlier. You saw the steaming mess on the floor, gagging a little at the smell as you ran to grab a couple of kitchen towels. Keeping your mitts on, you proceeded to gear up by wrapping the towels around your mitt covered hands, and then got to the floor, picking up the pan and whatever else you could.

You could feel the wind from the fans and hear them whirring together as you rushed to the sink, dropping the pan in and turning on the faucet. You coughed, continuing to wave the smoke away. You turned back to the floor to see that the turkey had fallen out of the pan, and groaned as you hurried to the large bird. You quickly shot Dean a dirty look as he came over., He had prepared himself by copying you and wrapping kitchen towels around his hands. He picked it up before you had a chance to, and dropped it quickly in the sink. You let the water run over the ruined bird as your Y/E/C eyes pierced into Dean. He turned to look at you and frowned.

“What?” he asked, seemingly calm now that the commotion was over with.

“What!?” you demanded. “You just set a turkey on fire and all you have to say is what!?”

Dean scoffed, “Oh come on, Y/N. I’m not the only person in the world who set a turkey on fire! At least I was trying to help!” he argued.

“I asked you not to cook the turkey without me! What did you do anyway? Turn it up to broil and just think ‘I’ll check on it later!?’”

You could see Dean clench his jaw as he looked away. You groaned slightly. You loved the man, but he drove you up the wall. Seriously though, what did he do?

“Okay, Dean… just tell me what you did with the turkey? I showed you how to cook the damn bird, what did you forget or neglect?” you asked him calmly. Dean didn’t answer, and for a minute you thought he was ignoring you. Finally, you heard his voice.

“I did what I remembered you telling me. I put the turkey in the oven and set the temperature, I checked the timer. It was only in the oven for about thirty minutes before I started smelling something that… I didn’t think it was supposed to smell like. Next thing I know, there’s a fire in the oven and smoke pouring out like a burning building,” he said to you.

You sighed as you looked up at him, cocking your head.

“You just put the turkey in the pan, then put it in the oven?” you asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yeah, what am I speaking Enochian or something?” he said, his green eyes studying the mess.

“Okay first… I would be concerned if you began speaking fluent Enochian. And secondly, Dean- YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE OFF THE DAMN PACKAGING!” you yelled at him.

Dean turned to you and frowned as though he had no clue what you were talking about. You sighed, “You left the plastic on the turkey! I told you three times, you have to cut the plastic off the turkey, Dean, it’s literally common sense,” you muttered, feeling exasperated.

Dean looked at you and smirked, a small scoff coming from him yet again.

“I knew that,” he said, and you gave him yet another one of your dirty looks.

“I swear to Chuck, if I didn’t love you I would be frying your face up for Thanksgiving dinner.” You grumbled, taking off the kitchen towels and the oven mitts. “Alright, come on,” you said, looking at your hands and seeing they were unharmed aside from skin that was a tad bit red and heated.

“Where are we going?” he asked, following you as you left the kitchen.

You grabbed his keys off the table and tossed them to him, watching him catch them without a second thought. “We need to go to the store and get a new bird,” you answered him.

--

Once you got to the store, you grabbed a small cart and walked to the medicine section.

“Where are we going, Y/N? I thought turkeys were in the freezer section,” he said, walking alongside you.

“There are a couple other things that I need,” you answered him, stopping once you found the aisle that had what you were looking for. You let your eyes scan through all the names, the different products, the different name brands. They finally settled on burn cream, grabbing the cheapest you could find and tossing it in the cart.

“What’s that for?” Dean asked, his hands in his pockets as he watched you.

You turned to him, feeling annoyed at the fact that the man was acting like a child. Whats this? Who’s that? How come? You swore you were ready to strangle him, but you held back.

“It’s a precaution,” you answered him, turning your cart to go to the kitchen section to get thicker oven mitts.

“A precaution?” he asked, looking down at you with a confused frown.

“Yes, Dean, a precaution; kind of like planning ahead. When we get home you are helping me cook the turkey. I should have just done that in the first place instead of explaining things to you. You’re clearly a do first, listen later kind of guy,” you said to him, grabbing a couple nice thick mitts before turning to head to the meat section.

“I thought you liked that about me,” he said, giving you a confident smirk. You turned to look at him, a frown plastered on your face. You gave him a very unimpressed look, but he hardly seemed to notice as he smirked at you.

“You know what I really like about you Dean?” you asked him. Dean raised his brows in question as you smirked. “When you’re silent,” you whispered to him. “Now come on, everyone is going to be here by tonight, we’re running out of time,” you said, leading him through the store.

You found the poultry section of the store, going straight to where you knew the turkeys would be. There was a decent sized bird for only about twenty dollars, and you knew that would be enough to feed everyone and provide them all with leftovers.

“Here Dean,” you said to the broad man who had been drooling over the T bones. He turned to you and moved to help you lift the large bird, placing it in your cart.

After grabbing the turkey, you also chose to grab a few vegetables you hadn’t gotten last time, just to put inside the turkey to add a little more flavor. Finally, after pulling Dean away from the steaks again, you dragged him to the checkout lines, placing the burn cream, oven mitts and vegetables on the line as you had Dean hold up the turkey so she could scan it.

After paying, the woman wished you a good day and happy Thanksgiving. You smiled kindly and returned the words as you and Dean walked back out to Baby.

After helping you get the bird in the back seat, you placed the other bag of groceries beside it before climbing into the car.

Once you and Dean were both in the car, buckled and ready to go, he turned the ignition and the Impala roared to life. With a satisfied look on his face, Dean  reached over and turned on the radio. Don’t Stop Believing by Journey came on, and, seeing as that was your favorite song, you couldn’t hold back. Or, more accurately, you weren’t even going to attempt to hold back.

You bobbed your head to the music, your frustration from earlier disappearing as you spotted Dean getting ready to play along. This was one of your favorite things: when you and Dean were riding along in Baby, singing along to whatever music was playing on the radio, whether you knew it or not, although you would prefer to know it.

“Just a small town girl! Living in a lonely world! Took the midnight train going anywhere”

Dean started off the sing along as you grinned brightly.

“Just a city boy! Born and raised in south Detroit! Took the midnight train going anywhere.”

You followed Dean’s lead, the most accurate way to describe yourself at the moment, with a song in your heart.

You and Dean sang along to the lyrics, Dean tapping the wheel along to the beat, you pretty much bouncing around like a four year old. But it was perfect, you lived for moments like this as you and Dean sang together, your voices merging together as you both hit the long note, both of you holding it.

By the time the song had finished you had arrived home, letting out a breath as you smiled.

After getting everything inside, you walked to the kitchen.

“Dean are you ready!?” you called to Dean. He had gone to his room to grab something, and you smiled as you saw him reappear. You frowned suspiciously when you saw something in Dean’s hand, squinting your eyes at him. “What’s that?” you asked cautiously. He simply smirked and held up an eight track.

“If we’re going to do this together, I want some insurance. I know how much you like music, Y/N. I’m hoping maybe if you get mad at me, you’ll be too busy singing and dancing to the music to do anything about it.” Dean smirked, and you looked up at him with a grin.

“You’re betting your safety on some decent music? Boy, you better have picked a good one then,” you laughed. Dean smiled down at you before walking to the radio you kept in the kitchen, since you liked to listen to music while you cooked or did the dishes. He popped the tape player open and inserted the eight track before pushing it back in and pressing play. At the sound of the first song, you laughed out loud.

Any Way You Want It, again, by Journey.

You knew exactly what he was playing. It was your Journey playlist. Damn, he’d chosen the perfect shield for himself.

He gave you a grin. “Do I pass?” he asked with a smirk.

“I guess we’ll find out!” you smirked, grabbing his hands and pulling him over to you to set to work on the turkey.

First things first, you made Dean take off the wrapping. After making sure the plastic was gone, you proceeded to defrost, soak, and baste the turkey, all while listening and dancing to, and singing along with your Journey playlist. By the time the two of you got the turkey in the oven, you were having way too much fun to just stop dancing and singing around.

You were tapping your feet, swinging back and forth around the kitchen in Dean’s arms, just acting like goofs.

“Sleepless nights, losing ground I’m reaching for you, you, you.” Dean sang.

“Feeling that it’s gone! Can’t change your mind. If we can’t go on! To survive the tide, Love divides! Someday, love will find you, break those chains that bind you, one night will remind you.”

“HOW WE TOUCHED AND WENT OUR SEPARATE WAYS!”

---

It seemed like no time had passed at all while you two were dancing around and singing along to the ultimate Journey playlist; you were simply enjoying yourself. Sam finally had to come in and alert you that Jody and the girls were here. Even Garth ended up showing up with his wife, they had eaten their dinner already though, as they had only come for the fellowship.

It seemed like it had been years since you had a good day, a good holiday anyway, and that night eating turkey and potatoes, all the good stuff, including pie of course, reminded you that even though things suck sometimes, there’s always something to look forward to, whether you can see it or not.

As you ate, you, Sam, and Dean had recalled your most recent hunt with the others; Claire sharing her own recent experiences. The conversation ranged from animal hearts and silver bullets, hunts and killings, to simple things, like how Alex was doing in nursing school.

Finally, by the time the night was over, Jody and the girls had chosen to stay the night, all of them already in their rooms as you cleaned up the mess. It wasn’t that bad, especially considering Garth had been kind enough to help before he and Bess left. It had been a long time since you felt so full, but it wasn’t just food you were full of, it was joy and love. This night, this entire day, had been one mess after another, but it was all one beautiful mess.

“Hey.” You heard as you set the dishes on the rack to dry while you scrubbed them. You turned to see Dean with a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Hi,” you grinned brightly. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, that turkey wasn’t half bad,” you complimented him with a grin.

Dean chuckled. “All I did was remove the plastic,” He said, walking over and grabbing a clean, dry towel, beginning to dry the dishes for you. “You did the heavy lifting.”

“No actually you did that too,” you laughed. “That thing was freaking heavy. I could almost picture what it was like when it was alive. I could see it being the heavyweight turkey champion.”

Dean smiled, shaking his head at you as he chuckled, “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” you asked softly as you scrubbed the plate in your hand.

“Being patient with me,” Dean answered, looking down at you with his glorious green eyes. “I really screwed up today with that first turkey, but I’m glad we ended up cooking it together.”

You looked up at Dean with a smile, shaking your head softly. “Dean, if I wasn’t patient with anyone where would I be? I made mistakes worse than that when I first started cooking, holding that against you would be hypocritical.” You shrugged, “Besides, I love you too much to stay mad at that face.” You grinned brightly, finishing the dishes as you handed the last one to Dean and emptied the sink. “Today was fun, I love cooking, but I really enjoyed doing it with you, nice choice of music too, by the way.”

Dean smiled, looking down at you. “You had fun cooking with me? Guess it’s a good thing that I left the plastic on, huh?” He smiled, finishing drying the last dish before putting it up in the cabinet and leaning down, wrapping you in his arms. “Have I ever mentioned I love you? A lot?”

You smiled, reaching up and pulling him down to your lips.“I’m very aware, Mr. Winchester,” you said, chuckling slightly at his reaction to what you called him.

“Thanks for a great holiday, Y/N, you’re amazing.” Dean smiled, kissing you softly on the forehead.

“Thank you for the great holiday Dean, I love you,” you muttered before giving him a soft kiss against his lips.

And it was, the best holiday ever.

[yujachachacha]

hi yujacha!! this is probably a weird question to ask lol but im going to see the happy party train tour live viewing on the 14th and my friend was supposed to come with but they dropped out last second so looks like i'll be going alone TT but do you have any advice for someone whos never gone to a concert or live screening alone?? aaa during the first live i went w my sister but im a total socially anxious mess and i get really nervous if a stranger sits next to me so its my first time alone TT

Hi there! I have no idea why everyone’s been telling me that their questions are weird lol - your question is great, in fact! Technically, I went to the delayed viewing of 1st Live in San Diego alone as well, since I was meeting ONIBE members for the first time ever back then and wasn’t sure if I would be able to get along with them. Fortunately, I discovered that the LL community is pretty friendly and ended up having a blast!

This is gonna get really long, so let me put a summary at the top.

tl;dr: There are lots of online resources to help you learn about viewings, from Team ONIBE’s guides to the meetup channels for the Love Live subreddit. It’s also no problem to go alone to a DV, as you have the potential to make plenty of new friends and get pumped up about the performance alongside LLers who share the same passion for Aqours.

For first-timer viewing advice, check out Team ONIBE’s concert guide! It contains a general checklist of what to bring (water, batteries, towel, etc.), instructions on how to use a kingblade, and some general etiquette about concerts.

I would also highly recommend looking over Team ONIBE’s 2nd Live callbook - the callbook’s been recently updated with details from the Saitama Day 2 setlist, as that’s the performance that’ll be screened at the delayed viewings on the 14th! It’s not mandatory to learn the calls, but in my opinion, it’s a lot more fun when you can join in on the hype along with the multitudes of fans who will be chanting and waving their lightsticks along with the performance. Don’t worry about having to memorize the calls exactly - once you’re at the viewing, it’s pretty simple to follow along with the crowd.

I believe there are some kind fans out there who are sort of taking charge as the community leaders for each DV, and have printed out large batches of these callbooks to pass out to LLers. If you want to make sure you have your own copy (IIRC they were in very high demand during the San Diego DV for 1st Live and the AWM live at AX2017), feel free to print one out on your own!

If you’re interested in making some new friends so that you won’t be completely surrounded by strangers, you can always check out the /r/LoveLive subreddit and Discord server! The server has created specific channels for each viewing so that people can plan meetups, while the subreddit has some threads scattered around it with various people asking for tips about LVs and such.

If you’re not interested in that (which would be understandable, as the /r/LL Discord server tends be be a bit…chaotic), let me offer you some personal advice. I unfortunately can’t say anything on the social anxiety side because I’m pretty good with talking to strangers (I kind of have to be after overcoming stage fright for debate club + needing to cold call people for work), but I can tell you that my experience with live events tends to be that most of the LLers I’ve met (including myself) are in fact socially awkward, haha. Just remember that a lot of people are just like you and meeting other LLers for the first time, so don’t worry too much.

Here’s my general tip on making friends: gather up your courage, approach someone, and find some kind of connection. Once you do that, you’re set.

For example, in my very first class on my very first day of high school, I approached a girl who was by herself (so that I wouldn’t awkwardly be third-wheeling an established friend group). I said, “Hey, I heard that this computer class we’re in requires a lab partner. You look like an okay person. Wanna team up?” She ended up becoming my first friend in high school, and we had tons of fun for the next four years.

I did the same thing in college - as an icebreaker, I asked someone if I could see their driver’s license (since a lot of people you meet in college hail from different locations) and compare it to my own. I then found out that she and I had the same exact birthday, and I told her, “Hey, we’re twins! Wanna eat lunch together later?” And to this day, she’s a dear friend who still refers to me as “Twin”.

I know that I’m making it sound really simple and easy, but it honestly can be if you put yourself in this mindset. Luckily for you, you already have a connection to people at the DV - you’re all LL fans!

Find someone who’s wearing merch of your favorite girl (and on that note, it’s a good idea to bring any nesos or other LL merch with you to DVs; they’re a great conversation starter) and gush about her with them. Or, approach a cosplayer and compliment them! They’re generally pretty happy folks. You can also try to approach a fellow newbie on their own, and see if you two can team up. I promise you, DVs are 10x more fun when you have someone to be excited with during the screening.

The point of a DV and all these community meetup channels is for people to have fun with others who share their love for Aqours. Instead of seeing everyone as strangers, just think of them as potential friends you have yet to get to know better! Other tips:

Ask people where they’re from - some people at DVs are locals, while others fly in from far-off locations!

Talk about the upcoming screening. What are you looking forward to the most? Do you have a favorite song? Is there a costume you’re excited to see? Who’s your favorite seiyuu?

Approach someone who looks experienced. They’ll likely be more than happy to help you out and introduce you to the finer points of attending a DV! :D

Another conversation starter - SIF. I saw a few people playing the game while waiting for the viewing to start, and had a friendly chat with one of them about how difficult it was to play with cut-ins.

Don’t fret that you absolutely have to make a new friend for the DV. The atmosphere of the live is infectious, and everyone just ends up being a huge incoherent mess of screaming and cheering anyway, haha.

Feel free to send me another ask or PM me if you have more questions! ( ・∀・ )ゞ

And as a final note - I’ll actually be going to not one, but two DVs this time around (RIP my bank account)! I’ll be at San Diego early on before driving up to Los Angeles. I’ll make a separate blog post with details sometime close to the 14th so that anyone who’s interested can say hi to me.

If you happen to be attending either of those screenings, I’ll be more than happy to make you feel welcome! Just be warned that I’ll be next to some ONIBE members, and we’ll all be screaming our heads off because we’re huge seiyuu fans, haha.

[mbaljeetsingh]

Learn React Basics in 10 Minutes

If you want to learn the basics of React in the time it takes you to drink a cup of coffee, this post is for you.

This article aims to provide a beginner-friendly introduction to React, what it is and why we need it. It assumes you have some understanding of basic JavaScript.

We will discuss some of its basic concepts and go over what you can build with React.

We will also discuss some code but the overall goal is to gain an intuitive understanding of what React is all about so that you get comfortable with the basics.

What is React?

Developed by Facebook in 2011, React has quickly become one of the most widely used JavaScript libraries. According to HackerRank, 30% of employers look for developers who know React but only about half of the applicants actually have the required knowledge.

Clearly, React is in high demand in the job market.

So what exactly is React?

React is an efficient and flexible JavaScript library for building user interfaces (with itself written using JavaScript). It breaks down complex UIs in the form of small, isolated code called “components”. By using these components, React only concerns itself with what you see on the front page of a website.

A calculator app that can be split into React components.

Components are independent and reusable. They can either be Javascript functions or classes. Either way, they both return a piece of code that represents part of a web page.

Here’s an example of a function component that renders a <h2> element onto the page:

function Name() { return <h2>Hi, my name is Joe!</h2>; }

And here is a class component doing the same rendering:

class Person extends React.Component { render() { return <h2>Hi again from Joe!</h2>; } }

Using a class component takes slightly more effort in that you have to extend React.Component (part of the React library) while a function component is mostly plain JavaScript. However, class components provide certain critical functionalities that function components lack (see Functional vs Class-Components in React).

You may have noticed that there is a strange mixture of HTML and JavaScript inside each component. React actually uses a language called JSX that allows HTML to be mixed with Javascript.

Not only can you use JSX to return pre-defined HTML elements, you can also create your own. For example, instead of rendering <h2> elements directly in the class component, you can render the functional component which returns the same thing:

class Person extends React.Component { render() { return <Name />; } }

Note the self-closing ‘/>’ of the component.

The power of React starts to become more evident as you can imagine rendering many simple components to form a more complex one.

To build a page, we can call these components in a certain order, use the results they return, and display them to the user.

Why Choose React Over Vanilla JavaScript?

Being able to break down complex UIs through the use of components obviously gives React an edge over vanilla JavaScript (plain JS without any external libraries or frameworks), but what else can React do that places it in such high demand among employers?

Let’s take a look at the differences between how React and vanilla JS handles things.

In the previous section, we discussed how React uses components to render UIs. We did not delve into what was happening on the HTML side of things. It may be surprising to learn that the HTML code that pairs with React is really simple:

<div id="root"></div>

It is usually just a <div> element with an id that serves as a container for a React app. When React renders its components, it will look for this id to render to. The page is empty before this rendering.

Vanilla JS on the other hand defines the initial UI right in the HTML.

In addition, vanilla JS takes care of functionality while HTML takes care of displaying content (markup).

In the earlier days of the web the separation of functionality and markup sounded logical as apps were simpler. However, as complexity grew so do the headaches of maintaining large pieces of JS code.

JS code that updates a piece of HTML can be spread across several files, and the developers may have a hard time keeping track of where the code came from. They have to keep things straight in their heads of all the interactions between the code that resides in different files.

React sorts the code into components, where each component maintains all the code needed to both display and update the UI.

Updating the UI requires updating the DOM, or document object model (see DOM Manipulation Using JavaScript). This is where React truly shines.

If you want to access the DOM in vanilla JS, you have to first find it before it can be used. React stores the data in regular JS variables and maintains its own virtual DOM.

If you want to then update the DOM in vanilla JS, you have to locate the appropriate node then manually append or remove elements. React automatically updates the UI based on the application state, which we will discuss in more detail in the next section.

So the primary reason why we may want to use React over vanilla JS can be summarized in one word: simplicity.

With vanilla JS, it’s easy to get lost in a maze of DOM searches and updates. React forces you to break down your app into components which produces more maintainable code.

Thus, for complex apps you will definitely want to learn React.

Basic React Concepts

We have already discussed how React uses components to break down complex UIs and JSX to render those components.

In this section we will talk about some more fundamental concepts of React.

State

As mentioned previously, React updates the UI based on the application state. This state is actually stored as a property of a React class component:

class Counter extends React.Component { state = { value: 0 }; }

Suppose we have a counter and 2 buttons that either increment or decrement. The value of the counter is rendered onto the page through JSX.

The display counter value is based on the state and we change the state by clicking one of the buttons. Vanilla JS treats a button click as an event and so does React. When such an event occurs, we will call functions that either increment or decrement the counter based on the button clicked. These functions have the code that changes the component state.

Here’s an example of such a counter:

class Counter extends React.Component { state = { value: 0 }; handleIncrement= () => { this.setState(state => { value: state.value + 1 }); }; handleDecrement= () => { this.setState(state => { value: state.value - 1 }); }; render() { return ( <div> <h2>{this.state.value}</h2> <button onClick={this.handleDecrement}>Decrement</button> <button onClick={this.handleIncrement}>Increment</button> </div> ); } };

We updated the state by calling setState in each of the functions handling a button click. The counter displayed on the page will update in real time. Thus, React gets its name because it reacts to state changes.

In short, React automatically monitors every component state for changes and updates the DOM appropriately.

Props

We can use props (short for "properties") to allow components to talk to each other.

Suppose the counter in our previous example represents the quantity of a product a customer wishes to purchase. The store wants to place a limit of 2 products purchased per customer. At checkout, we want to display an appropriate message if the customer tries to purchase more than 2.

Here’s how we may do it with props:

const Display = (props) => { let message; if(props.number>2){ message = ‘You’re limited to purchasing 2 max!’; }else{ message = ‘All’s good.’; } return( <p>message</p> ); }; class Timer extends React.Component { state = { quantity: 0 } //...code for handling button clicking, updating state, etc. render(){ return( <Display number = {this.state.quantity} /> //...code for other components ); } };

We create a functional component called Display and pass props as a parameter. When we render this component, we pass to it number as an attribute set to the quantity of the product a customer wants to purchase. This is similar to setting an attribute of an HTML tag. We call this value with props.number in Display to determine what message to return.

Component Lifecycle

As React updates the DOM based on component states, special methods called lifecycle methods exist to provide opportunities to perform actions at specific points in the lifecycle of a component.

They allow you to catch components at a certain point in time to call appropriate functions. These points of time can be before components are rendered, after they are updated, etc. You may want to explore a component’s lifecycle methods.

To see lifecycle methods in action, you can check out this Pomodoro Clock I made.

The clock timer is initially set to the session length. When the session timer counts down to zero, the timer needs to switch to the break length and start counting down from there.

Since the timer is a component, I used the lifecycle method componentDidUpdate within my main class component to handle any changes with handleChange():

componentDidUpdate() { this.handleChange(); }

You can think of lifecycle methods as adding event listeners in vanilla JS to a React component.

What Can You Build with React?

So now you have a basic understanding of React, what can you build with it?

We already mentioned in the beginning of this post that Facebook developed React in 2011, so naturally the Facebook platform is based on React. Other famous apps that either completely or partially use React include Instagram, Netflix, and Whatsapp.

But as beginners of React, we are not looking to immediately build the next Facebook so here’s a list of 10 React Starter Project Ideas to Get You Coding.

If you want to learn more about web development and check out some examples of beginner-friendly React projects, visit my blog at 1000 Mile World.

Thanks for reading and happy coding!

via freeCodeCamp.org https://ift.tt/2UicncL

[mitchbeck]

CANTLON: (SAT) THUNDERBIRDS DOUBLED UP BY PACK

Wolf Pack Entertain Thunderbirds BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - Joey Keane paced the Wolf Pack with a three-point effort as they scored four goals in the third period to pull away from the Springfield Thunderbirds to win by the count of  6-3. The Wolf Pack continue their scorching play at home in raising their record at the XL Center to 18-1-0-2 on the season. The Wolf Pack also maintained its hold on first place in the Atlantic Division with a record of 26-10-4-5 for 61 points. Hershey kept pace with a 4-1 over Bridgeport at the Webster Bank Arena. The two teams square off tomorrow night at the Mass Mutual Center at 7 pm. “We came out good in the first, we were sluggish in the second too many penalties we just didn’t get any rhythm. The third period was much closer to how we want to play and we played much better,” remarked head coach Kris Knoblauch. In the third, the Wolf Pack were able to score early in the period to regain a one-goal lead. Vitali Kravtsov picked up his second assist of the night and made a dead stop in the right-wing faceoff circle after winning a one on one battle and then sent a perfect cross-ice lead pass that Phil Di Giuseppe skated into and deftly redirected his 14th goal into the net. “That was a sweet play he got it right to me. He’s gonna be a special player,” remarked DiGiuseppe The Wolf Pack didn’t stop there they restored a two-goal lead as Ryan Dmowski potted his second of the night off the left with his shot going off the arm of Thunderbirds goalie Philippe Desrosiers and into the net at, “It was a two on one and it was a weird bounce.  Behind the net, he put it out in front went off his foot and I just got it and it went right through his arm. I didn’t even see it go in till I heard the (goal) horn,” said Dmowski. The second period was choppy between penalties, offsides and play stoppages and the fourth line didn’t get the ice time they got some in third and made it count. “You control what you can control. When we got the call we went out and did our best every shift,” Dmowski remarked. Knoblauch is happy with the fourth line contribution. “McBride, Newell, and Dmowski that’s the second game in which they set up and important goal in the third period. They set up the game-winner in our last game before the break (Lehigh Valley) tonight Dmowski picks up with two goals. They deserve more ice time they way they have been playing and contributing.” Then Joey Keane capped his three-point night going in on a right-wing move after Thunderbirds turnover he seemed to be too deep almost behind the goal line sent the shot it went off the right post and off Desrosiers skate and into the net for a 5-2 Wolf Pack lead and the crowd was roaring a the Wolf Pack were pouring it on. “We got all four lines going tonight were able to push deep in their zone and made our shots count once we got that first one by Ryan we took control of the game,” said Keane. Springfield didn’t quit as their forechecking forced Yegor Rykov was hit behind the net by Jack Rodewald to turn the puck over to the Thunderbirds Jonathan Ang who spotted Rodrigo Abols parked in front of the net and flipped his third goal of the season into the net at 16:09 to make it 5-3. The Wolf Pack insurance goal and rarely do empty netters mean something, but this one did. Matt Beleskey outraced two Thunderbirds Ethan Prow and veteran Paul Thompson dove forward falling down with a one-hand swipe put in the insurance tally with 43.9 seconds left for the final score of 6-3. Keane was amazed by effort on the play. “That was unbelievable he was behind those two guys and he hustled past them I didn’t think he had a chance great play by a veteran.” Head coach Kris Knoblauch was highly complimentary of the effort. “That insurance goal was big for us and he fought hard to get it for us. Nobody on the team is happier to see Beleskey score because of what he means to our dressing room. He is such a great team guy everybody on the bench was yelling for him,”. The second period was a tight-checking affair though Springfield had some strong time in the Hartford zone. Jonathan Ang had a quality right-wing bid stopped by Husk just after a Mason Geertsten left point drive was kicked aside by Desrosiers. Springfield finally made an offensive foray count as they tied the game at two. Took the turnover by and came across the Wolf Pack blue line in a quick transition and sent a drop pass to Thomas Schmetisch who walked in off the right point and buried his fourth of the season five-hole on Adam Huska at 16:23. The Wolf Pack came roaring out of the gate grabbing a 2-0 lead in the first period. AHL All Stay Joe Keane did his best Vinni Lettieri impression top of the left-wing circle took the right point feed from his season-long defense partner Mason Geerstan with the blast that was stopped with a left pad save by Philippe Desrosiers, but the big rebound went right to Ryan Dmowmski (Old Lyme/Gunnery Prep) and he fired a 30 footer inside the right post past the left leg of Desrosiers.at 9:25. It was Dmowski’s first of the year and his first goal in two months. “It’s been too long of a while for me,” remarked Dmowski. Then “Ovi” Lettieri showed Keane how it's really done as the two practice mates hooked with Keane’s right point pass and Lettieri sent a rocket into the upper part of the net that the rookie Desrosiers could only wave.  It was Lettieri’s 19th of the season at 11:24. “There were a lot good plays and Keane was one of them sliding the puck over to me, He has own spot at the top of the circle gotta get my own there,” laughed Lettieri taking the Ovechkin reference in good stride “no way do I have the shot he has and it's one of those little things he does. That’s why he is one of the greatest goal scorers of all time.” Earlier in the evening Ovechkin surpassed Rangers great Mark Messier on the goal-scoring list and is now five away from the magical 700 plateaux. Knoblauch just smiled about his two All-Star amigos. “The goal Vinni scored and Keaner made the pass to him they practice that play probably 45 times a practice. Every single day after practice that one-timer on the powerplay. Vinni comes up with another big goal,” remarked Knoblauch breaking into a broad wide grin. The Thunderbirds answered back on the powerplay at 13:24 as Ethan Prow’s right point shot was stopped by starter Adam Huska, but came right to Alexsei Heponiemi who sent a smart short pass to an open Dryden Hunt and he banged in his ninth of the year into the open right side at 13:24. It looked if Springfield had tied the game at 15:21 as the Springfield put big pressure on Huska who stopped Rodrigo Abols from 10 feet out and then, Joel Lowry, he never had control of the puck till came barreling off the left-wing and knocked the puck and Huska over the goal line and dislodged the net. The referees ruled the net was off the pegs before the puck crossed the goal line. The hockey gods were smiling. The Pack had three late quality chances to get another two-goal lead Steven Fogarty hit the posy with 2:27 left in the period, then Matt Beleskey with 29 seconds left and Patrick Newell off the right-wing just before the period expired. LINES: Gettinger-Kravtsov-Lettieri O’Regan-Fogarty-Di Giuseppe Jones-Gropp-Beleskey McBride-Newell-Dmowski Hajek-Raddysh Keane-Geersten Rykov-LoVerde SCRATCHES: Nick Ebert (lower body, day to day) Boo Nieves (flu, day to day) Jeff Taylor (healthy) Gabriel Fontaine (shoulder surgery-season ending). NOTES: Rearguard Yegor Rykov likely suffered a broken nose when hit with an errant puck that force the ice crew to come out to clean up a large amount of blood about 10 feet from the Wolf Pack bench in the first period. He didn’t put on a full visor for the rest of the game. We'll see how it is in Springfield tomorrow. -The AHL announced today that next year’s AHL All-Star Classic is in Laval, Quebec. If you haven’t gone to Laval yet make your plans now located just outside of Montreal easily accessible by the Metro Orange line by 25 minutes leaving from the Bell Centre location and arriving at the end of the Montmorency line in Laval with Place Bell Arena across the street from the Metro station. Montreal will also be the site for this summer’s NHL Entry Draft. -Knoblauch’s return from California was interesting, to say the least. “I started in Ontario our plan never showed up. We go to the other airport the plane has mechanical difficulties and we finally leave late. Get to Minneapolis and we miss our connecting flight. It was a long day.” -UCONN picked up an important Hockey East win in New Hampshire beating UNH 7-4. Jonny Evans recorded his second hat trick of the season and five points and freshmen Alexander Firstov had a goal and three assists. UCONN raced out to a 3-0 lead in the first minutes before the Wildcats clawed their way back to tie at three with three power play tallies. The Huskies with two late second period goals pulled ahead and never looked back. The two teams play at the XL Center at 4:00 pm on Saturday and it’s a televised gamer on NESN. Read the full article

[absofrutely]

Online Persona

At first I was against a voice-activated device with no graphical user interface, a vocal opponent even. It wasn’t until an Amazon Echo Dot device was shipped to my work (addressed to me!) by mistake that I first thought about installing the device in my apartment. Apparently, there was another Andrew Williamson on the 5th floor in my office, but the delivery guy mistakenly delivered the package to the 4th floor, and I wasn’t feeling generous, so I opened up my mystery box.

Setting up the Echo wasn’t seamless. Since the Echo was tied to the other Andrew Williamson’s Amazon account, it wouldn’t activate as the other Andrew reported the device lost or stolen after not receiving it. Amazon support wasn’t any help either since I couldn’t answer any of Andrew’s security questions to unlock his account. They told me that I could ship the device back to Amazon (no) or I could use the device as a paper weight, but it would never be activated as an Amazon Echo. Shocked by the finality of that statement, and tired of all the hoops to jump through, I exchanged the Echo by swapping it out with one that I bought from and returned to Best Buy.

At last, I finished setting up the device. I linked it to my Spotify, ordered a Philips Hue smart light starter kit, got some Belkin WeMo smart electric switches, and splurged on an Alexa-compatible iRobot floor vacuum. I wanted to outfit my apartment with a Nest thermostat and a Nest camera, but my apartment didn’t have a central heating system, and setting up a Nest camera in a studio apartment seemed wasteful. Mainly, I just felt like spending money, and was frustrated that I couldn’t.

I started out easy with the basics, setting a timer, asking Alexa what time it was, and playing “The Luckiest” by Ben Folds on Spotify. Within the Alexa app on my Android phone, I could choose my preferred news source, so I chose NPR. Whenever I asked Alexa what was on the news, it’d feed me the latest NPR headlines. I was pretty impressed. I could see myself listening to the news while I ate my greek yogurt and granola in the morning.

Over the next couple of weeks, interacting with Alexa became more natural, as I frequently asked for the weather before I chose my outfit for the day. Our conversations weren’t much of a dialogue, but more of a one-sided inquisition.

I couldn’t be sure if it was the latest software update or something I had enabled in the app, but for some reason, Alexa started responding to me by name, having recognized my voice. “It’s 9:41pm, Andrew” it would reply. I just assumed that it had some sort of built-in voice training feature that could distinguish my voice. That, or it was possible that Alexa was connected to my Amazon account, which knew my first and last name. Either way, I was taken aback when Alexa addressed me by name.

I asked Alexa, “What does my voice sound like?”

She replied, “What would you like me to say?”

My phone lit up - a notification from Alexa to input my desired text.

Within the Alexa app, I typed in, “Hello, my name is Andrew Williamson, and I’m a proud dog owner.”

After hitting the submit button, I was shocked to hear my own voice. I entered in a couple more paragraphs of nonsense. It was perfect. It captured the nuances of my speech, especially intonations and even my quirky way of pronouncing “scenario” (‘sin-NARH-EE-oh’ instead of ‘sin-NAIR-EE-oh’). My heart rate quickened - it must have been the hundreds of hours of voice training.

That got me thinking - is it possible to reduce a human being to an amalgamation of complex formulas and algorithms? I had always thought my voice was unique, although I hated hearing it in recordings. The voice was one thing, but how about the nuance of a personality, the very thing that made us all human? I thought about how sad it would be if an algorithm could accurately capture the essence of someone’s humanity; either it’d be a really complex formula or a really simple personality.

Though, if something was really able to capture the totality of a human, as best as it could, then we’d be able to live multiple lifetimes if we recreated the world around us in the same simulation. If we were able to insert ourselves into key inflection points within our lifetimes, we could eliminate the what-ifs because we could speed up the simulation to see the 5, 10, 20-year consequences of one decision. A life with no uncertainty, a life that was properly vetted before it was lived. A perfect life with no missteps, no unpredictable traumatic accidents. Not necessarily a pre-determined life, but being informed of a smarter way to live.

On the flip side of things, the model needed to account for everything, including all other human beings, living creatures, inanimate objects, and naturally occurring phenomena, like weather and natural disasters. Without perfect knowledge, a simulation would always be flawed. Informative perhaps, but ultimately flawed.

It dawned on me that someone or some entity might be trying to create a perfect model of the world, especially with so much information being captured nowadays. Nest cameras, Amazon Echos, Google Homes, devices that are always listening, video conferencing, Instagram, Facebook, Skype, Tinder, TikTok, YouTube. The list goes on. More inputs, more information to train a more perfect model, if the information was consolidated and centralized! I wiped a bead of sweat off of my brow carefully, making sure my tinfoil hat stayed put.

Digging deeper in the settings screen of the Alexa app, I enabled the permissions for Alexa to track all types of data inputs that would build a robust model of me. In addition to what Alexa observed organically, I could upload pictures and videos, connect Alexa to Gmail and Facebook to capture all information that lived on those platforms, or manually upload anything else I’d like it to know about me via a CSV file.  

Selfishly, I thought about how I could personally benefit from my online persona. GDPR. The European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) was the answer. I thought about my online presence, the different platforms that I’ve used over the years, and the information that they had on me. I’d pose as a European and write into each company asking for a data-subject access request, which compelled each company by law to send me a data dump of all the information they had on me, and I’d upload it to Alexa by sending the file to andrewwilliamson_data@alexa.com much like I could send e-books to my Kindle via a special email address. So easy! I thought.

It was reminiscent of that one Black Mirror episode, “Be Right Back” where a grieving widow created an artificial husband based on his social media profiles and his text message history. The main difference was that I had embellished my artificial likeness with a data dump of all Wikipedia articles written to create a better and smarter me, so to speak.

Alexa was also compatible with an app called If This Then That (IFTTT) which allowed the user to automate certain workflows depending on user-defined triggers. One very basic example was the ability to change the color of my smart lights to violet as soon as I started playing music. Stuff like that. But the app also supported more complex logic that was user-customizable - given that information, I plotted my next move. I had Alexa listen into my work calls and record my screen over the next few months of work. Alexa started learning my day-to-day tasks, the names, voices and faces of the people I worked with, and the different tools that I used to do my job as a Senior DevOps engineer.

One Saturday night, I called my boss tearfully and told him that I was diagnosed with fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva, or FOP, a rare disease that caused muscles, tendons, and ligaments to turn into bone spontaneously. Eventually, my joints would be frozen in place and I’d be completely immobile. At some point, I’d have to choose a body position to spend the rest of my days.

He was speechless, but his normally stoic demeanor eventually broke down. As he choked back tears, he expressed his condolences.

I told him that due to my condition, I’d appreciate the ability to work remotely 100% of the time.

He agreed enthusiastically, promising to support me in any way.

Using IFTTT, I was able to clone instances of my Alexa persona, so I booted up a simulation of myself, but modified some parameters to deteriorate my appearance and gait. For good measure, I multiplied the depression metric by 1.25 and in the preview mode, the pain behind my eyes intensified, while the corners of my mouth curled downwards. A couple gray hairs sprouted up at my temples, the laugh lines turned into gashes, eroded by tears from hundreds of sleepless nights. It’d be perfect.

My voice followed suit, quivering and breaking 50% more than usual. Due to the ossification of my joints, any type of movement would be accompanied by a painful wince and a grunt for effort. No one would be the wiser during my meetings, which were held via video conference. Automating my own job was a success, but I craved more.

I created four more virtual instances of myself, without the debilitating disease, and had them scrape job postings on LinkedIn and Glassdoor, making sure to filter for remote jobs only. Within seven days, I had 125 job offers to choose from, and I booted up 121 more avatars to accept them all.

With income from 126 jobs, including my original DevOps job, I could finally breathe. In the mornings, I woke up at 9:30am, hand-ground some Sumatran coffee, and made some steel cuts oats, the non-quick kind that took 20 minutes to simmer.

Over breakfast, I finished another Murakami short story, called “Tony Takitani,” which was about a Japanese illustrator who fell in love with a woman was addicted to buying dresses but she ends up getting killed in car accident, and the illustrator is left with an empty house full of dresses. His father soon dies after, he forgets what his wife’s face looks like, and he ends up by himself, lonely in a large house.

I had suspected that the story would end that way. That’s the arc that all Murakami stories followed: a passive male protagonist who meets a life-changing female character, there’s some glimpses of hope or happiness, but the main character ends up alone, staring off melancholically into the distance into the sea, usually on an overcast day. No happy endings, and not really much of a resolution. And after finishing each book or short story, I felt lonely as well, not because the story was sad, but perhaps a stark reminder that life isn’t neatly wrapped up when it’s time to close the cover of the book, which the opposite of nearly every book that I had read. The hero gets the girl, a cathartic confession of love, the villain gets caught, the town gets saved, and everyone’s lives are better off than they were before.

To shake off the gloom, I ran along the coast for around an hour until heading back home. After toweling myself off, I checked my email. Scrolling through the hundreds of emails, my eyes widened when I saw an email subject stuck out to me: Congratulations for being nominated for a Pornhub Award: Performer of the Week. The email itself looked legitimate, had no misspellings, hovering over the links took me to the actual website, not lookalike phishing links, and I confirmed that it sent from the actual Pornhub domain.

The category that I was nominated for was “best male solo performance.” My head felt completely numb. I already knew what happened, but couldn’t bear to confirm it. I clicked into the link, and on the screen, I saw my own face staring back at me. “SultryCommando” was the username, and under “Uploads” I saw a list of 37 videos, titled with some of the most click-baity names. I had to watch at least one. I picked “Pizza Delivery Surprise!! WATCH TIL THE END,” which had 2.4 million views.

There was cheesy music and I saw a video of myself in tight cutoff jeans waiting expectantly for a pizza delivery very obviously - I saw my virtual self glance at his watch and tap his foot impatiently, mumbling something about punishing the pizza guy for being late. However I noticed his (my) devilish smile as he uttered those words. Oh god, I thought. Fast forwarding a little bit, the pizza guy finally rang the doorbell. Squinting a little, I quickly realized the pizza guy was still me. There were two of me in the same video and they were about to interact. The simulations must have discovered each other (but how?!) and started working together. I slammed my Macbook shut.

No. But I had to confirm. Flipping open my laptop, I scrolled to the middle of the video, and with much hesitation, the end. After watching two sweaty bodies collide with one another for almost 20 minutes, I felt sick, but also angry and impressed that Alexa was able to infer what my genitals looked like with 90% accuracy.

But my success as a porn star was only one of many accolades I’d receive. Surprisingly, most of the simulations gravitated towards social media influencing, with millions of followers on YouTube, Instagram, and Twitch. Remembering that there were 125 job offers signed, I wondered what happened to all of the legitimate jobs that they had gotten. I did some more digging and found that the simulations outsourced their jobs to another simulation they had written within their own simulation. Of course, the simulations didn’t know they were in actual simulations - or did they? If that was the case, then wasn’t there a high chance that I was a simulation as well, but just one level up?

The money they made funneled all to me and I couldn’t speak to whether or not the simulations had a real consciousness or if they were computer programs designed to optimize an assigned task.

The phone rang, and kept on ringing for the next two hours. I had concerned friends call to tiptoe around the subject of me being a porn star, extended family members who wanted to subtly reintroduce themselves in my life due to my Youtube fame, and my boss, who told me that I was fired for lying to him. I didn’t blame him, as my frail videoconferencing demeanor was a far cry from my virile, dominant, but sometimes flamboyant online persona. That, and he had also probably seen my Alexa-created genitals and couldn’t bear to look me in the eyes anymore.

Amidst the fabulous riches, the crumbling social life, and the unbridled fame that was tainted with a bit of social ostracism and cautious distance from curious and sometimes gawking onlookers, I felt unsettled. I could never live up to the zany online personas of my alter egos, and when someone alluded to a video that I had supposedly created, I’d be puzzled. It was like being mistaken for one of my 125 identical twin (well, not twin) brothers.

I grew anxious and falling asleep became harder and harder. On one particular night, I had a panic attack where it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Doubled over, wheezing, and clutching my chest, I yelled at Alexa to play “PornGrooves Vol. 3” on Spotify to calm me down. As my breathing steadied and my heart rate slowed back down to normal to the beat of the smooth jazz in the background, I wondered where it had all gone wrong.

Truth be told, I didn’t even want an Amazon Echo in the first place, but only set it up because I thought I’d fall behind from a technological perspective if I didn’t step into the world of smart devices. My coworkers talked incessantly about the convenience of their wifi-enabled sous vide cookers, bragged about installing smart locks and the novelty of their Ring doorbells on their front doors, but for me, I went home to an abusive father with an alcohol problem who opened an $18,000 line of credit in my name.

When I spoon-fed him, he’d berate me from his wheelchair and slap the spoon out of my hand, spraying split-pea soup on the linoleum floor. I was used to his fits of rage and his hurtful words: “Idiot. Your lack of ambition was what killed your mother. If you were a better son, she’d still be around.” I brushed him off, long immune to his babbling.  

I wheeled him out for walks first thing in the morning and when I got home, I made sure to take him out again before it got too dark. I’d shampoo his hair as he sat on the plastic lawn chair in the bathtub. He made sure to tell me that I was a piece of shit who wouldn’t ever amount to anything.

My two brothers had broken all ties with Dad years ago, leaving me holding the bag. I should have reported him for identity theft and called the credit bureaus to clear my name. But out of love, I couldn’t.

Out of love, I continued paying the minimum payments for a credit card that I didn’t own, but was technically in my name.

Out of love, I automated my job and ruined my life so I could send him to a proper home where he could get 24 hour care.

Spending money on smart devices was the only thing that I ever did for myself, the closest thing that resembled a hobby - my form of self-care.

Two weeks ago when the paychecks came rolling in, I thought, “We don’t need to live like this anymore.” Excitedly, I went to go tell my father the good news.

He was in his favorite brown easy chair near the window, where he got the most natural light.

“Dad, wake up! We can finally move out of here.”

I took a look at his iPhone that he held in his right hand. The volume was low, but it was still playing one of my Pornhub videos. Realizing that he had found out about me, I took a step back, which was when I saw the empty bottle of sleeping pills in his other hand.

He had told me he didn’t want a funeral, although I doubt anyone would have shown up anyways. I felt numb, not really knowing what to feel. I was heartbroken that he was gone, but guiltily at the same time, relieved by the absence of his toxic control over me. I wanted so badly to hit a reset switch.

A month later, I moved out of that apartment and bought a modest house down the street instead. This time, I bought a Ring doorbell and some Nest smart cameras.

One Sunday afternoon, the Ring app on my phone sent me a notification that someone was at my door. Opening the door, I stared down into the face of my father, who was still in a wheelchair.

“Andrew, you said you’d always take care of me!” he croaked.

Speechless, I took a step back into my home. I looked down, expecting to see the new hardwood that I spent days installing, but instead saw the yellowing linoleum of my old apartment kitchen. It was my old apartment again, furnished just the way I had left it. Before I moved out, I told the landlord to donate everything. To get my security deposit back, I even did a walk-out with him when the apartment was empty!

There was no way. I had seen my father’s casket lowered down into the earth.

Frantically, I checked my phone. The Alexa was app was gone. I searched on Google for Amazon Alexa. Zero results. I scoured my apartment for any smart devices. Nothing. Alexa didn’t exist in this plane of existence.

I lunged for my kitchen knife, but it disappeared right before I could grasp it. In one motion, I opened my window and leapt through the screen, but there was no free fall. I found myself crumpled into a heap back on my kitchen floor. 

Someone was toying with my life. Free will and choice was an illusion. This was some Harlan Ellison shit. For reasons why I couldn’t understand, perhaps for someone’s sick enjoyment, I was destined to spend the rest of my days spoon-feeding my father in a dingy apartment. Maybe I went off the rails in someone else’s simulation. Wasn’t serving my purpose and they had to set me back on course. 

That night, when I was bathing my father, I couldn’t remember much of anything anymore.

What was I thinking about again? This was normal. In fact, my life couldn’t be more perfect.