#pinchen

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the Word tag

Thanks @jezifster for the tag! These are piling up I'm going through them!

My words: chill, lift, wreck, final

Your words: disappoint, raise, bland, flexible

Tagging @theeccentricraven @thepeculiarbird @awritingcaitlin @sleepywriter00 @mikathewriter @little-peril-stories @space-writes @unrepentantcheeseaddict @ohnomybreadsticks @blind-the-winds @andyswritings or anyone else who'd like to play!

Keep reading for:

Training session with dragon

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped....

Don't let this guy fool you he's an asshole

Robbie's infamous fight with Jason

Chill - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

Custos roared and his fire broke through the pitch darkness, illuminating Tyler. He pitched the light toward Custos as Kelsey slammed into him. Tyler stumbled but held his stance, pushing against Kelsey as he tried to keep Custos in the light. “Medina! Go!” I could scarcely make out Noelle’s outline in the dim light, but the chill I felt down my spine as her silhouette moved was strong. I heard a surprised shout. “Gills! What happened?” “My rock stopped! I slipped off the ledge, but I’m okay.” My grip on the stick tightened. Tyler struggled to keep Kelsey from knocking him over. I looked at Custos. Gills told me I was defense. He’d understand. The real problem was Noelle. She grabbed Gills’ rock in pitch darkness. She could get me. I pulled harder on the stick. Noelle’s pull tightened, too. Smirking to myself, I let the stick go and flew upward—cutting through the air. Noelle grunted as the stick hit her with her own force. Once high enough, I shot toward the dragon, hoping to keep the momentum to pass through the dampening field and get the sphere. I knew it as soon as I passed. I lost my grip on the air and began to fall, but I latched onto the collar before doing so. Custos didn’t like that and tried to paw me off, but I managed to unclasp the sphere. “Haha!—oomph!” I celebrated until Custos did knock me off.

Lift - from School of the Legends Year One

Jill seemed mildly confused, but she shrugged, and the three of them began to sneak back to the edge of the mantle. Jack fell a bit behind, struggling to carry the harp. The logical side of him told him to just leave the harp, but his gut told him otherwise. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to take this harp. Ahead, Jill and Beau had already reached the end of the mantle. Jack gestured for them to go on, but too late he realized that was a mistake, as the harp began to slip from his fingers. He moved quickly, gaining a firm grip on the harp before it hit the mantle, but as he did so, one of his fingers brushed against the harp’s strings. Jack froze as both giants turned toward the sound. Instantly, the male was up and crossing the room. Jack bolted toward the end of the mantle, suddenly finding an adrenaline-fueled strength to lift the harp. “Go!” he shouted at Jill and Beau. “I’ll catch up!” They both hesitated, but they soon disappeared from Jack’s view. Jack continued to run, but was soon stopped by the crashing of a gigantic fist crashing onto the mantle in front of him, the force of which sent Jack off his feet, and crashing on his back. The giant loomed over Jack, eyes that were larger than Jack blazing in fury. “Who do you think you are?” he asked in a mountain-shattering voice--in English, Jack was barely able to process. “Breaking into my home and stealing my things?” “It’s not like you’re gonna do anything with them!” Jack shouted--though his voice came out a lot weaker than he expected. “I’m keeping them safe until they are needed!” The giant raised his fist--probably planning to smash Jack--but Jack took the opportunity to bolt toward the end of the mantle. The giant’s size was now a hindrance--too slow, and his fist crashed into the mantle, cracking it, just next to where Jack was. But the crack bent the mantle, and Jack now found himself on a sloped surface--slight enough to where he could still run, but steep enough for him to lose balance and almost fall to his feet. He peered over the side. Jill and Beau were now on the ground, pressed against the wall. They’d left the plants for Jack, though with the force of the crack, the stalk connecting the mantle with the side table had snapped. Jack was now at the edge of the mantle, looking down at the long fall to the table. He whipped his head back to the giant, who was now recoiling from breaking his mantle. He looked back at his options. He could stay here and get crushed, or he could jump. Then his eyes drifted past the table and to the recliner--the back of it. It was a soft surface. It wasn't too much farther. Though directly in the path of the jump he would have to make was the candlestick, the flame on the wick now threateningly large and sparking. A quick glance back was enough to tell Jack that he had no option. As soon as the giant slammed his hand down beside Jack, he jumped, hoping the force from the giant’s slam was enough to propel him over the candlestick.

Wreck - from The Secret Portal Part Three (OLD DRAFT because this word doesn't appear in any current drafts....this was back when telepathy and empathy were separate oh my God whyyyyyyy)

Doctor David Pinchên took a seat on his sofa, reclining into its soft cushions, his coffee warming his hands. Just three days ago, he had published his textbook on Telepathic Theory. It had taken him years of research, but finally, his work was complete. He hoped that the school curriculum would soon offer Telepathic Theory as a course. It was fascinating to think about, and he himself hoped that one day more and more of the youth would be as swept away as he was. He, of course, was not a telepath. He was, however, a Level-1 empath. The two were often confused, and he took umbrage at the ignorance of others when he had spent nearly the entirety of his life being asked, “What am I thinking?!” Though, being an empath, he did understand that not everyone was familiar with the Levels and Classes and abilities of their race. The database was long and complicated, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the one who put it together a millenia ago didn’t have it memorized by the time he or she died, even though when the database was first published, most of the subpowers, and even full umbrella powers, didn’t even exist yet. In fact, it hadn’t been too terribly long since a fourth Class of powers had been discovered, with the arrival of chronokinesis, energy conversion, and dimensiokinesis. With empaths being closely related to telepaths, David found himself sympathizing rather seamlessly with the psychics. Even as a Level-1, he still experienced the common headaches and emotional breakdowns that had formed into a sad-but-true stereotype for empaths to be unstable. He had been what some would call “a wreck” as a boy, and it didn’t help that he skipped two grades of elementary school, so being a physically smaller emotional mess did nothing to stop nasty kids taking advantage of him once his powers kicked in. Though he usually used his abilities to discover if anything else was bothering the bullies, which there usually was, and reported his findings to the school’s counselor, also an empath, all of which were, and usually that kid’s issue was resolved, which led to that kid being nice to him in gratitude. David didn’t want to brag about this accomplishment. He was just using his powers for a good reason. Because of these actions, he’d had mixed reception from adults. Some wished him to continue to use his powers and become a counselor or therapist, while others pushed him to appeal to his science side. He had no interest in therapy, as he had been simply stating his findings to someone much more qualified. So he did go toward the direction of a more theoretical science, which those adults that pushed him to pursue a more scientific path were convinced was “a waste of a great mind.” Oh, how he hoped he could see them once Telepathic Theory became a college major.

Final - from The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

I stopped in my tracks and turned to my right. Jason Sturges stood down the hall, clicking his stupid sticks against the lockers. A rush of fury overtook me as I remembered this morning. I didn’t know what I was doing until I was right beside Jason, punching him in the face. Jason stood up straighter, rubbing his jaw, his steely blue eyes locked on me with a look that could kill. Still, I didn’t regret the action. Yeah, I shouldn’t have done it, but who gave a shit? I may not have been a hero, but justice was justice. “Alright, heartthrob.” Jason tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans. “This is how you want to play?” My right hand was on fire from the punch. Jason cracked his knuckles. I wanted to run, catch up with Akash, but I stood my ground. Jason took a swing at me; I threw up my hands to block my face—actually, my glasses—and Jason’s fist collided with my arm with enough force to cause me to stagger backward. Before I could regain my balance, Jason charged at me, and with full force, slammed me against the nearest locker. The impact caused my entire nervous system to light up, and though it hurt, I felt powerful. The force filled me with new-found energy. The lights flickered, warmth flooded through my body. Jason stepped back, though kept me in place. A scarlet light began to glow from somewhere. Jason looked at the light, then the ceiling. Then me. “What the….” I gave Jason a final push to get off of me, but what I meant to be a good shove sent Jason through the air and crashing into the lockers on the other side of the hall, then falling to the ground. The scarlet light dimmed until it disappeared. The lights stopped flickering. “Stay away from him,” I growled.

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

En fin…uno respira y ya le quieren reclutar 🥹

.

[dabid-motozalea]

-Echa al seleccionador a dos días del mundial

-Su hermana le rompe las piernas

-No puede asegurar que no le vayan a meter 1kg de cocaína en el coche

-Se reparte los millones por audios de WhatsApp con Geri

-Se va de viaje a Nueva York con una prostituta con esos millones

-Le da un pico a Jenni Hermoso

-Se agarra las pelotas en el palco para celebrar el mundial femenino

-No va a dimitir

-No va a dimitir

-No va a dimitir

-Pone a su madre en huelga de hambre encerrada en una iglesia

-Monta una pachanga en Motril con sus colegas con una manifestación contra él en la puerta

-Se larga a República Dominicana mientras la guardia civil registra su casa

-Vuelve como si nada

-Pide que le pinchen suero de la verdad para preguntarle si se ha ido de putas

-Pide que le pregunten a "su tío" si se ha ido de putas

[enmipecho-asher]

Entre tu y yo no habían banderas rojas

Nos encargamos de que cada una que pudiera brotar

Fuera en verdad un clavel, una rosa

Que aunque claven y aunque pinchen

Sean fragantes y hermosas

Transformamos un pedazo de tela

En un jardín

Y las conversaciones incómodas se hicieron

Parte del día a día

Para que no fueran estas

Las que nos separaran

¿Por qué entonces abandonaste nuestro jardín?

Ya no hay pasto

Ya no hay flores

Los arboles que plantamos se están por secar

Y yo ya le puse un cerco

Pero la puerta la dejé abierta

Porque tengo la ilusión

Aunque se que no llegara

Que nos pararemos en el jardín

Y con una nueva conversación

Esta vez convocaremos una tormenta y huracán

Y de sus gotas y aguas

Volveremos a brotar

[effyeahmeerkats]

Meerkat (1) by Trevor Pinchen

[jav0211]

Dentro

Espalda corroída y visión ultravioleta por sobredosis de espumosa lluvia ácida. Satisfactorio desgaste y añoranza de interna combustión por falta de calor, hábito mortal de precioso caracter opioide. No me pinchen los tímpanos con esperanza, con esperanza ascendente, que acá abajo en la humedad aprendí a dormir con las arañas y sólo de vez en cuando nos bañamos de luces neón, de un suspiro de la luna, o si andamos muy de buenas nos dejamos embriagar por algunas gotas de amanecer que después nos raspan la garganta.

[poetailurofilica]

ya me conocéis

soy esa solitaria de la que nunca te acordás hasta que es demasiado tarde para hacer algo o muy termprano para olvidar

soy esa cosa que camina que a veces corre a la cornisa buscando puertas, es mi premisa

asisto a la sinagoga y a las operetas existo porque así se quiso y aunque no me quiso, me sostiene la existencia

reclamo entonces el periodismo que no me enquisto que me externalizo

y por más que te diga que amo duda incluso de mis reclamos y confirma tu propia razón

no hay mayor perdón que el que se da a uno mismo por hacer las paces con el corazón

aunque nos tomen por vandidos aunque nos linchen los amigos aunque se pinchen los bolsillos

la torta, los globos y los cumpleañitos la mary que crisma la piba del rincón, de barrio

ya sabes lo que se dice KARMA siempre termina llegando ¿le sostengo el sombrero, señor?

le saco el saco, ¿dónde lo dejo? me pongo el pongo y me dicen pomni

de difícil dormir y fácil como hotwheels derrapa Storni, ya sin bibliotecas

más diabólica lonely menos estricta for me también hay vanidad

lo supiste en el first day aunque oigas todo al revés siempre habrá barro desde donde amoldar

mi arritmia se escucha no hay yelmo que cubra la hendidura de una lanza de longuinus celestial

entendimos que las heridas eran para la silla o aquel acordeón

la última banda el violín más pequeño el simple tarareo de un pájaro matinal

un tango nuevo ahora canta la dicha antes que la bincha me dé electroshock

que tú me animas la vida por practicar con risas este mal don

he de confesarte sin prisa cómo las horas brincan más que mi pororó

son así de mayor esplendor pues olvido los yerros en un encierro de love

confirmo que entendí tarde las burlas que para ti el chiste es la bulla más, mi temple es de cartón

se prende fuego la duda y al final hundo mis uñas a mi ociosa lección

aquí lo único que importa no es otra cosa que este sísmico ardor

lo que sostiene nuestra concordia, en mi idioma, lo llamo: pasión

© Todos los derechos reservados

愛

[iridisscencia]

un cuerpo tan sensible

tan flácido emocionalmente

quisiera entrenarlo

no escapar

que lo pinchen

y sentir, pero soportarlo

que caminar

no me queme los pies

que pensar

no sea una caja de herramientas

que vivir

no sea sobrevivir

[multihc]

¡Pedidos abiertos!

Hola, soy Des y me dedicaré a escribir headcanons y pequeños one-shots de Digimon (romance, cosas simplemente divertidas, ¡lo que quieran!, y en un futuro aceptaré igualmente pedidos de Pokémon.

No vi ninguna cuenta en español que se dedicase a hacer esto, así que quise intentarlo y ser la, ¿primera?, puede, que mete a Digimon en el asunto.

Aceptaré lo siguiente:

Romance de Digimon x lector humano o digimon.

Humano x Humano, solo si son adultos.

Situaciones que ustedes pidan involucrando momentos con algun Digimon por sí solo, junto a un humano, etc.

SFT/Indicios a NSFT (No haré nada explícito, simplemente redactaré algo que pueda intuir a que ha ocurrido "eso" en el caso del NSFT).

NO aceptaré lo siguiente:

Romance involucrando a Digimon en etapa Rookie/Child. Aceptaré headcanons con estos evidentemente, pero NADA de romance involucrado. Nada.

Romance entre los niños humanos del anime, manga, etc. Se acepta si son adultos.

Romance involucrando a Digimon que no tengan apariencia humanoide. Aceptaré headcanons con estos evidentemente al igual que en el anterior caso, pero no me siento especialmente cómoda escribiendo romance de los mismos, lo siento si causa molestias.

NSFT explícito

Cualquier petición que me haga sentir incómoda y de casualidad no haya estado aquí mencionada en los "no". Es raro que ocurra, pero puede darse el caso.

Ahora, por supuesto, pasamos a hablar del tema de Pokémon, lo que estoy dispuesta a escribir y lo que no. Adoro este fandom y, ahhh, espero en serio poder hacerles disfrutar con mis headcanon y one-shot's. ♡

Aceptaré lo siguiente:

Romance humano x lector, siempre y cuando sean adultos.

Romande con Pokémon solo si están humanizados.

Situaciones que ustedes pidan involucrando momentos con algun humano, Pokémon, o lo que sea por sí solo, junto a un otros personajes o Pokémon, etc.

SFT/Indicios a NSFT (No haré nada explícito, simplemente redactaré algo que pueda intuir a que ha ocurrido "eso" en el caso del NSFT).

NO aceptaré lo siguiente:

Romance entre los niños humanos del anime, manga, etc. Se acepta si son adultos o adolescentes de 16 en adelante.

Romance involucrando a Pokémon. Aceptaré headcanons con estos evidentemente al igual que en el anterior caso, pero no me siento especialmente cómoda escribiendo romance con ellos, ¡de nuevo siento las molestias!

NSFT explícito

Romance Pokémon x Pokémon, tampoco soy muy fan de escribir eso.

Nuevamente: cualquier petición que me haga sentir incómoda y de casualidad no haya estado aquí mencionada en los "no".

Mis pedidos están actualmente ABIERTOS. Vayan a mi perfil y pinchen en la caja de preguntas para pedir lo que les apetezca ♡

¡Muchas gracias!

[iamdarcylewis]

ES QUE A QUIEN SE LE OCURRE HACER CAMBIOS EL DÍA DEL FESTIVAL NO JODAN PINCHEN MAMEN

[moviediscopuntacana]

Best Clubs in Dominican Republic | Moviediscopuntacana.com

Dé rienda suelta a su vida nocturna en Movie Disco Punta Cana

Introducción

Si busca una experiencia nocturna inolvidable en Punta Cana, no busque más que Movie Disco Punta Cana. Famosa por su atmósfera vibrante, eventos temáticos y entretenimiento de clase mundial, esta discoteca es el destino definitivo para los amantes de la fiesta. Aquí le contamos por qué debería hacer de Movie Disco su próxima parada en su aventura en Punta Cana.

1. Emocionantes noches temáticas

En Movie Disco, cada noche ofrece algo nuevo y emocionante. Nuestras noches temáticas, que van desde fiestas retro de los 80 hasta extravagancias de pop moderno, garantizan que siempre haya una razón para celebrar. Ya sea que desee bailar como si fuera la era disco o disfrutar de los últimos éxitos, nuestros eventos temáticos prometen una experiencia única cada vez que nos visite.

2. Los mejores DJ y música en vivo

Baile toda la noche al ritmo de talentosos DJ y artistas en vivo. Traemos a los mejores DJ locales e internacionales para que pinchen temas que lo mantendrán en la pista de baile toda la noche. El ambiente lleno de energía, junto con espectáculos de luces cautivadores, crea una experiencia inolvidable que no querrá perderse.

3. Ambiente cinematográfico único

Movie Disco Punta Cana no es solo otro club nocturno; es una experiencia inmersiva. Nuestra decoración con temática cinematográfica celebra películas icónicas, creando un ambiente divertido y atractivo. Los invitados suelen venir vestidos como sus personajes favoritos, lo que se suma a la energía vibrante del club.

4. Cócteles y refrescos exclusivos

Disfrute de una refrescante selección de bebidas en nuestro bar. Nuestros hábiles bartenders elaboran deliciosos cócteles que complementan el ambiente festivo. Desde los favoritos tropicales hasta los brebajes clásicos, hay algo para que todos disfruten mientras bailan toda la noche.

5. Ubicación conveniente para todos

Situado en el corazón de Punta Cana, Movie Disco es fácilmente accesible desde muchos hoteles y complejos turísticos. Ya sea que se hospede cerca o explore el área, nuestro club es el lugar perfecto para comenzar su velada.

Conclusión

Si buscas una experiencia nocturna electrizante en Punta Cana, Movie Disco Punta Cana es el lugar ideal. Con emocionantes noches temáticas, entretenimiento de primer nivel y un ambiente cinematográfico único, tu velada será inolvidable. ¡Únete a nosotros y baila toda la noche!

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word tag

Thanks @ceph-the-ghost-writer for the tag!

My words: borrow, beg, steal, manage

Your words: tool, personal, appear, sour

Tagging @gracehosborn @thepeculiarbird @gothamxwattpad @blind-the-winds @jezifster @little-peril-stories @stesierra @sleepywriter00 @loopyhoopywrites @captain-kraken @herrmannhalsteadproduction @theharpywrites @buffythevampirelover @little-mouse-gardens @hippiewrites or anyone else who wants to play!

Keep reading for:

Halloween party snippet but Carla and George just learned what Halloween was last week

A traumatic event from Jedi's childhood (CW: child and spousal abuse; done through fantasy violence: attacking via electromagnetic fields)

Jack and the Beanstalk parody

Robbie & Akash dynamic

Borrow - from The Secret Portal Part One

“You’re dressed as Dr. David Pinchên.” Carla looked down at her sweater vest and khakis. “Wait, isn’t that the telepathic theory guy?” Ash asked. Carla nodded. “Hey, can I borrow some of his books?” “Sure,” said Carla. “Thanks,” said Ash. George turned to his sister. “Well, that’s everyone. Let’s go down to the break room.” Ash, Rose, George, and Carla went through the kitchen toward the elevators. Carla and George got off at the breakroom, while Ash and Rose stayed to change in the dorms. “Whoa,” George said, gazing around. There were black and orange streamers and fake cobwebs everywhere and what appeared to be spiderpig webs on every other surface. The lights were dim and the sources of flickering light came from inside pumpkins with faces carved out of them. A couple tables were pushed against the wall with candy and punch. Spooky music played in the background, and George and Carla weren’t sure they liked how it made them feel, but it certainly fit the mood. Tyler walked up to them, his black hair slicked back and wearing fake pointy teeth. Red paint dripped down his chin. “Velcome to the party.” “Why are you talking like that?” Carla asked. “Because… Dracula’s Romanian?” “Romania?” “It’s a country on Ceteri.” Tyler looked back over his shoulder for a second. “Hey, Carla, you want to get some punch? It’s directly from Ceteri.” “Um, sure,” said Carla, glancing back at George, who gave her an encouraging smile. “I like your outfit, by the way,” said Tyler. “Sweater vest, khakis. You even have fake stubble. You look like my seventh grade science teacher.” Carla blinked. “Is that a good thing?” “If that’s the look you were going for,” said Tyler. “But I don’t think you’re my seventh grade science teacher.”

Beg - from The Secret Portal Part One (Jedi POV)

“You bitch,” Dadaidh snarled. “Using your telepathy against me?” “You used your powers against me; you gave me no choice.” I could tell Eomma was crying. “I’m sorry, Tayler.” Dadaidh’s eyes grew darker. “You will be.” His eyes were on me, and a hot pain was in my head like nothing I’d ever felt. I placed my hands against my temple, gritting my teeth together and trying not to scream. “Tayler, no!” Eomma screamed, but Dadaidh held her back, causing her to curl to the floor. The world around me spotted as I dropped to my knees, bending over. My teeth soon couldn’t push against each other any more, and my voice ran out of my body in a cry that I didn’t know it was capable of making. “Tayler, I beg of you, stop!” I fell to the ground, relieved from the pain as my cheek fell against the cold tile. I choked as I sobbed. Eomma had sat herself up, staring my dadaidh in the eyes. “Jedi,” Eomma said weakly. “Go to your room. Stay there. Your father and I need to talk.” I slowly pushed myself to a seated position before rising to my feet. As soon as I was standing, I ran up the lift, climbing up to the second floor as soon as I could reach it and scrambled to my room as if my life depended on it. I slammed my hand against the frame to close the door before sliding my back down it so I could sit against it on the floor. I didn’t know what Eomma wanted to talk to Dadaidh for. I wasn't sure that I wanted to. I glanced up at the metal frame on my wall, a holoimage of myself, Eomma, Dadaidh, and Kirstie. All of us were smiling. I couldn’t remember what day it was; I had only been about five at the time. But we were happy; and that was all that mattered. The metal frame began to shake. I pressed my ear against the door, expecting to hear my eomma scream, but I heard nothing. I knew something was wrong, but I stayed where I was. I didn’t want to go back out there again.

Steal - from School of the Legends Year One

Beau knelt down beside a crate with holes poked in the top. He peered through one of the slits in the crate. “Merde, there’s a chicken in here.” “A what?” Jack and Jill chorused. All three of them whipped their heads toward the giants. Neither appeared to hear anything--maybe their smell was the only sense that was enhanced. They turned back to the crate, joining Beau in peering through the crate. Sure enough, there was a chicken. “That’s weird,” Jack stated the obvious as he stood straight again. His eyes rested on a harp leaning against the clock. He carefully set it upright, studying the instrument close. There was something about it that was inherently mesmerizing. “I think we need to take these things.” “Steal?” Jill asked. “It’s not like these belong to them,” Jack said. “But they don’t belong to us, either.” “We have chickens on our farm,” said Jack. “We could bring this one! What are they going to do with it?” Jill looked at the bag of coins in her hand. “Hm.” “It’s not theirs,” Jack repeated. Jack could sense how badly Jill wanted to say it wasn't theirs, either. “If we take this, we’re donating most of it.” She paused. “A good chunk of it.” She shook her head. “No, most.” “If it’s real,” Beau said. They turned to him. “Come on, those coins are way too shiny to be real. And not nearly heavy enough.” Jill exhaled. “Well, that makes me feel loads better.” “I’ve always wanted to play the harp,” said Jack, admiring it. “Since when?” “You don’t know everything about me.”

Manage - from The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

“Well, Jason slammed me into a locker and Ms. Bradley let me off with a warning.” I slowed my pace to sync with Ariel. “Well, Ms. Bradley likes you, and she probably saw Jason pressing you against the locker.” “Actually, she didn’t. Jason was already off me.” “How’d you manage that?” “Um,” I allowed my hesitation to carry through my opening of the exterior door and holding it open for Akash. “Something?” “Something?” Akash repeated, revolving Ariel to face me with a skeptical look. I stayed leaning against the door. “I dunno. This is gonna sound really, really weird, but when Jason slammed me against the locker, I felt… alive.” Akash smirked. “Kinky.” “Dude!” “Joking!” Akash protested, holding his hands in a surrender pose. I stepped away from the door, allowing it to close. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “There was a red light. Just kinda… glowing.” Akash raised an eyebrow. “Glowing…? From where?” I shrugged. “I dunno, man. But then the lights flickered. And Jason freaked out, loosened his grip, and I pushed him off.” “And then Ms. Bradley came out?” “And then Jason went flying across the hall.” Akash opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. “Dude, I’m telling the truth.” “And I believe you.” “Wait, what?” Akash scoffed. “Why would you make it up? That’s weird, I agree with you.”

[trukqsofficial]

Not Alone § Izzy Pinchen

[justcoffee-nomore]

Que horrible estar en el hospital, que me pinchen a cada rato y tener que aguantar esas agujas metidas en las manos por dias , no me gusta nada y eso que es en el area del seguro que aun puedo usar de mi madre ya luego me tocara en areas públicas

Lo peor es que ya me quisiera morir quiza en unos 5 años para no sufrir tanto en vida mas porque creo que no hallare trabajo ni de lo que estudio ni de otra cosa, mas alla de si puedo o no ser feliz ya no importa pero almenos quisiera tener algo para poder comer y comprar cosas basicas pero bueno ojala pronto me muera y no sufra tanto

[mayirecetas]

Carrot cake (zanaorta?)

Un par de días atrás (o semanas, ya perdí la cuenta) Nea me pidió que haga carrot cake, así que aproveché el Domingo que venían algunas personas a cenar y la hice :3. Anduve buscando recetas y me crucé con la de Alton Brown, en quien confío ciegamente. Tiene gusto a especias sobre todo, pero está bien balanceado y queda muy rico (y el frosting de queso crema está bastante bueno).

Para la torta (rinde para un molde de 24 cm. (o dos budineras medianas, o una docena de muffins))

Ingredientes

340 gr. harina 0000

1 cdta polvo de hornear

1 cdta bicarbonato de sodio

1/4 cdta pimienta de jamaica molida (se consigue en Mercado Libre, The Pick Market, seguramente en casas de repostería como Doña Clara o El Nuevo Emporio, etc.; si no consiguen pueden reemplazarla con un toquecín de pimienta negra y clavo de olor molido)

1/4 cdta canela en polvo

1/4 cdta nuez moscada recién rallada

1/2 cdta sal

340 gr. zanahoria rallada (con el rallador intermedio si tienen la caja; son masomeno 6 zanahorias medianas)

285 gr. azúcar común

55 gr. azúcar negra

3 huevos grandes (no grandes de feria, si son de feria vayan con medianos)

170 gr. yogurt natural (si solo consiguen griego o sin grasa no se hagan drama, que sale bien igual)

170 gr. aceite de girasol

Precalentar el horno a 180C (medio). Enmantecar el molde que vayan a usar (o poner los pirotines en la muffinera). Si tienen procesadora procesan el harina, especias, sal, polvo de hornear y bicarbonato de sodio, y si no tienen nomás los tamizan. Ponen con mucho amor la zanahoria en un bowl (grande, porque acá van a ir agregando todo) y la mezclan con los secos. Tienen que tratar de lograr que toda la zanahoria quede bien cubierta con harina.

Si tienen procesadora (o licuadora) procesan los huevos con los azúcares y el yogurt hasta que quede una masa uniforme. De a poco, con la procesadora todavía corriendo, le van agregando el aceite hasta que quede todo hermosamente emulsionado. Si no tienen procesadora, usan la batidora (o batidor de mano para los que no le temen a la artritis) y baten los huevos con el yogurt. Le agregan los azúcares y siguen batiendo hasta que quede bien integrado, y finalmente le van agregando en forma de hilo (o sea, muy de poquito) el aceite, nunca dejando de batir, hasta que emulsione. Vuelcan la mezcla esta en el bowl donde estaba la zanahoria enharinada y lo mezclan con amor.

Finalmente lo tienen que poner en el/los molde/s y mandar al horno durante un laaaargo rato (unos 45' a 1 hora si hacen en el molde de 20 cm.; en la receta de Alton Brown recomiendan que después de los 45' se baje el horno a 160C y se cocine por 20' más; si tienen un termómetro de horno, háganlo que queda genial, pero no es vital). Cuando la pinchen el cuchillo tienen que salir como en todas las otras tortas: sin masa cruda pegada (puede que salga húmedo o con miguitas, pero eso no significa que le falte cocción).

Para el frosting

225 gr. queso Philadelphia (acá sí que no puedo recomendarles reemplazos, no sé si el Finlandia quede bien D:) a temperatura ambiente

57 gr. manteca a temperatura ambiente

1 cdta extracto de vainilla (o esencia, o polvo, o pasta)

255 gr. azúcar impalpable (tamizada)

Con una batidora (normal o con lira) o batidor de mano combinar la manteca y el queso crema. Agregar la vainilla y darle hasta que quede bien integrada. Agregar el azúcar impalpable en 4 tandas en la velocidad más baja que puedan (para que no se llene hasta el techo de azúcar impalpable; si tienen batidora de pie, pueden poner un trapo sobre la batidora y bowl cada vez que empiezan a batir, así evitan esparcir mugre por todos lados), batiendo bien en cada tanda. Dejar reposar de 5 a 10 minutos en la heladera antes de usar.

[jav0211]

Sueño1

Cargué (mal) con la melancolía cerca de 6 meses, ya con la espalda corroída y la visión ultravioleta por sobredosis de mi propia lluvia ácida . Satisfactorio desgaste y añoranza de incinerarme desde adentro, hábito mortal de precioso caracter opioide. No me pinchen los tímpanos con esperanza, con esperanza ascendente, que acá abajo en la humedad aprendí a dormir con las arañas, y sólo de vez en cuando nos bañamos de luces neón, de un suspiro de la luna, o si andamos muy de buenas nos dejamos embriagar por algunas gotas de amanecer que después nos raspan la garganta. Te dejé de escuchar, el susurro del conejo ojos saltones apareció espontáneamente y me apresuré a seguir su rastro. Deje atrás la plaza pública, sin decir nada, la estática de sinsentidos cotidianos decayó despacio tras de mí. Despacio, pero mis piernas van a prisa. Despacio, pero en locomoción psiquica. Doy mis últimos pasos sobre el pavimento y me apresuro a levantar, clavándome las puás en los dedos y sangrando de inmediato, la verde reja que separa la plaza de la maleza. Me llevo un par de arañazos en la espalda, pero estoy anesteciado, y ni las manos ni la espalda me desatan de la oníria. Hay sangre en el suelo sobre la amarilenta hierva seca, pero no es mía, la mía está detrás entre las púas y embarrada en mis pantalones y coloreándome la blanca playerita. Mi sangre es sólo sangre, pero ésta brilla, resplandece como si tuviera diamantina entremezclada, es el rastro del conejo y no puedo evitar llevarme a la boca una pequeña probada que me exalta de inmediato y dice "sigue". Me adentro entre el decuidado pasto seco que me llega a la cintura, hay que brazear para avanzar y mirar, comienza la estructura: trinchera de piedra volcánica, sin techo prácticamente; en el suelo ya no hay hierva, sólo tierra, pero aún se distingue el resplandor de la sangre.