#retro bar spoon
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syosset56 · 1 year ago
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magalhaessims · 10 months ago
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THIRSTY CACTUS DINER - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD
Fresh and renewed! One of my very first builds, now with a modern twist! The Thirsty Cactus Diner is the ideal destination for those seeking a brief escape, where you can unwind and savor the perfection of a robust cup of black coffee. Also, I've just created my very first Speed Build Video on YouTube! If you appreciate this type of content, be sure to check it out. I hope you enjoy the video!
NOT CC FREE 
Lot Type: Cafe | Bar | Restaurant
Size: 30x20 
World: Oasis Springs 
Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!
WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE
Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD
CC USED IN THIS BUILD:
NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.
Amoebae: GF Horizontal Slats & Vertical Beans | Vintage Dining Set | Plastered Style || AroundTheSims4: Diner | Paris (Bench) | Restaurant || AwingedLlhama: Nostalgia Living (Blinds) || Charly Pancakes: Chalk (Kitchen Clutter) || TheClutterCat: BubbleGum | Dandy Diary (Glasses) || Felixandre: Colonial | Paris | Soho || Harrie: Halcyon Kitchen | Klean | Spoons || HouseOfHarlix: Baysic Bathroom | Baysic || LittleDica: Delicious Kitchen | Greasy Goods | Rise&Grind | Summer Party || Max20: Cozy Bathroom | Dining Room Kit | Kitchen Appliances | Poolside Lounge (Plants) || Peacemaker-ic: Creta Kitchen (Mini Frigde) || Pierisim: Coldbrew | David Apartment | Domaine Du Clos | Pantry || RVSN: ShopChef Consumables || Simkoos: Clutter Dump || SixamCC: Private Schools (Fire Alarm) || SurelySims: Kitchen Of Tomorrow | Office Space || Syboulette: Crossfit Reborn (Wall Digital Clock) || Taurus Design: Lilith Chillin’ Areas: Coffee Corner || Zx-Ta: Painting | Retro Diner
The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!
HOW TO MAKE IT FUNCTIONAL:
If you want a more immersive experience with this lot, I highly suggest downloading LittleMsSam’s Auto Employees Mod. With this mod, NPCs will automatically work at the lot, once you place the correct object for them to appear.
Make sure to read all the information available on the mods pages in order to make it work properly in your game!
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My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!
Thank you for reblogging: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds and everyone else for helping me boost this post!
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rallamajoop · 9 months ago
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Did Ethan play the piano?
There are a bunch of little hints scattered through these games about Ethan's character. He seems to have a love for the retro ‒ at least, his drawer is full of jazz CDs and he drives a 1971 Dodge Challenger. As Rose notes, he's clearly a wine drinker. And he may have played he piano.
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I don't want to overstate the hints RE7&8 give us on that last part. Resident Evil is, after all, a universe where apparently being able to bang out a full sonata at a moment's notice is just a basic life skill for anyone who might want to infiltrate a suspicious facility (though just jamming a few bars of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star may also do in a pinch).
There's a piano in the Winters' home, but then, maybe Mia's the one who plays, or maybe the BSAA set them up in an already-furnished house ‒ who knows? You can't actually interact with it as Ethan, nor does Rose comment on it. But Rose does wonder out loud if her Dad played any instruments (after he jokes about whether baby Rose banging her spoon to the Miss D. record suggests she's going to grow up to be a musician) ‒ and that at least primes you to notice that piano, if you hadn't already.
There are also two different pianos you can interact with in the Baker property ‒ one in the guest room, which will slam shut if Ethan reaches for the keys, and a second in Lucas' room that merely prompts the message 'it's broken'.
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It's not until Dimitrescu's castle that Ethan himself finally gets to make like all those other Resi heros, and bash out a quick solo to open a mini door in the piano, in which you'll find a key that will open another door... look, you've heard this one before.
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There's an argument to be had whether any of the puzzle solutions in a video game like RE should be taken as truly diegetic. But if nothing else, this does at least suggest Ethan can read sheet music. Here's the asset for the sheet, by the way (and again with the bit you actually play highlighted). You can hear someone play the full song ("Sogno" ‒ which means 'Dream' in Italian ‒ by Francesco Paolo Tosti) here.
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There's even a version with lyrics, though I doubt they necessarily meant much to whoever picked this piece for the game: more likely it was chosen for being a song with a very simple treble clef (so the player doesn't have to do too much work to solve the 'puzzle') but a much more complicated bass (so it still sounds sophisticated when played). Regardless, you can hear it sung here.
There's also one other little clue that might suggest that someone in the Winters' household has some real musical leanings: one of the CDs you can find in that drawer is titled 'Jazz Standard Theory'. Which sounds a lot more like an instructional CD than easy listening (though they're certainly not winning any prizes for those other titles).
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Actually, while we're talking Ethan's CD collection, here's the asset for that Miss D & the Pallboys CD too! Surprisingly, it has a back as well, suggesting that at some point you might have been able to pick it up and examine it. The text is all pretty illegible, however.
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(I've talked before about the theory that 'Miss D' is actually Lady Dimitrescu, but if you want the short version ‒ given that she's not from the village and is 'descended from a fallen noble', this one's surprisingly plausible!)
Hilariously, a love for jazz might just be one thing Ethan has in common with the Bakers, given you can find some records lying around the rec room upstairs.
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Mind you, even RE2R managed to work a jazz festival flyer into this one puzzle solution...
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Does someone in the team at Capcom have a thing for Jazz? Evidence is starting to stack up...
But getting back to our original topic, does Ethan play the piano? You can make a case either way, as the game never tells us explicitly. But there's enough here to point that way that I'd like to think he does, anyhow.
Which only makes the implications of this so much more tragic.
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sulanimami · 2 years ago
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WIndslar Wellness Spa
Nestled in the WIndslar neighborhood of Windenburg, this old tudor was recently renovated into an oasis away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Including a cafe and bar, sauna rooms, hot springs, yoga room, meditation room, nail salon, private massage rooms and an indoor/outdoor pool, this is the place truly made for relaxation.
REQUIRED PACKS: Spa Day, Get Together, Snowy Escape
OPTIONAL PACKS: Island Living, Dine Out
TRAY FILES: Windslar Wellness Spa by SulaniMami
RVSN: Scent to be Diffuser | Full of it Smart Trash Can |
Pierisim: MCM 1 | MCM 2 | MCM 3 | MCM 4 | Domaine du Clos 2 | Domaine du Clos 4 | Oak House 4 (Folded Towels) | The Office (Pencil Holder) | Coldbrew (Books) |
Charly Pancakes: The Strandkorb | Selection One (retro smartspeaker) | Slouch
Charly Pancakes & Pierisim: Precious Promises (3 Candles)
Harrie: Spoons 2 | Spoons 3 | Brownstone 2 | Brownstone 3 | Octave 2 | Octave 3 | Country 1 | Country 3 | Heritage Collection
Felixandre: Grove 3 | Grove 4 | Berlin 2 | Orjanic 2 | Colonial 1 | Colonial 2 | Colonial 3 | Paris 3 | Gothic Revival Exterior | ShoptheLook | London Interior (Merged)
House of Harlix: Baysic Bathroom | Harluxe | Livin Rum | Bafroom | Orjanic 2
Tuds: Wave Living | Cave 1 | IND 3 |
Peacemaker IC: Hamptons Built-Ins | Hudson Bathroom | Hamptons Bedroom | Hamptons Bathroom | Flooring Dump 01 Herringbone Parquet | Shaker Paneling
Mr.Olkan: Cool Pools CC Kit (Pool Water 4)
MadameRiaSims4: Basic Luxe Kitchen (Barstool)
Servinka: OMSP Set | Natalia Dining (Ceiling Lamp) | Christmas Bedroom (8 Large Candles)
Max20: Classic Kitchen Set | Poolside Lounge Pack
S-Imagination: Oak & Concrete Patio Kit
Amoebae: OMSP - The Red Shelf
BrazenLotus: Mythical Patio Lamp Recolors
MyshunoSun: Gale Dining (Wine Glass) | Luna Bedroom (Wall Art)
SixamCC: Small Spaces Pantry
ItsKingFalcon: Fuvwara 2 _ Fountain Set
Cepzid: Let’s Get Fit Modpack
LittleDica: Rise & Grind Coffeehouse Stuff Pack
ANBS: Tokyo Bathroom (Mirror)
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thecglcatalog · 17 days ago
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-Stainless Stillness- Signature Nursery Suite
A sleek and stylish set for adult baby nurseries in retro-futurist style with a toy store’s worth of care-enhancing features!  The Stainless Stillness Set is a full nursery-dungeon made from three luxury materials: the finest virgin rubber, smooth and heavy nylon canvas with a choice of playful prints, and round-cornered square steel bars.
The design goals are two: to provide restraints that keep baby in place for every part of its little day, and to furnish a flexible, attractive nursery that caregiver will enjoy!  
Every nursery centers around baby’s sleeping space, and this one is no exception!  Vacuum Bassinet tucks baby in on a thick, tufted rubber mattress with a sleek neck-high rubber blanket.  Port in the left side lets you suck the air out from in between to pinion baby safely on its back for the night!  Head remains uncovered so baby can still see and hear your comforting presence – though if this is undesirable, an optional matching Total Pacifier Rubber Hood fills the mouth with a soothing pacifier bulb while encasing little one’s head in rubber to match the vacuum sheet.
Outside baby’s vacuum-bed prison, bassinet has a beautifully curvilinear shape with a convertible cover that folds back or pops up at the flick of a switch.  The whole streamlined frame moves on silent locking casters so you can roll baby around as you wish.  The cover and sides are luxuriously upholstered in nylon canvas in your choice of delightfully vintage-futuristic prints: Pink Atomic, Powder Blue Starburst, or White/Multi Geo.  The same fabric makes up the lightly gathered skirt.  Select your rubber color to match or contrast as you please: Silky Pink, Little Boy Blue, Vintage Mint.
Bassinet includes a supportive keepsake pillow and a handsome steel-cased Baby Monitor so you can remotely view your vacuum-bound dolly.  Hooks on right side provide convenient places to hang the Baby Monitor and optional catheter bag.
Height-matched Vacuum Activation Stool is a chic way to integrate with all other furniture pieces – and gives owner an observation seat, too!  The small drum-shaped vacuum device with its coiled hose fits under a round vanity stool on silent casters, padded with comfortable foam rubber under a vinyl skirt.  All-around piping in your chosen solid rubber color gives it a neatly finished look.
Use the device to power the Vacuum Feeding Seat, too – this backward-tilted baby-slave lounger encloses baby’s shoulders, arms, and thighs in a vacuum-tight rubber sleeve, so baby’s struggles are limited during bottle-feeding or spoon-feeding.  And if baby misbehaves at breakfast time, some time in the Full Enclosure Nap Mat may be in order – it unfolds like a futon to provide head-to-toe vacuum coverage, with breathing possible through a large pacifier-shaped mouth port.
Position changes make for a healthy baby, so many caregivers also choose a Crawly Cube, a square steel “tent” with rubber sheets that seal tightly together to hold baby in place on all fours.  For restraint variety, Tummy Time Mat is a soft, thick rubber floor tile with jigsaw edges that will integrate with most interlocking floor mats.  Anchored through the durable rubber in four places, a rigid four-hole shackle holds ankles and wrists in a neat little line.  Baby will be forced to assume a face-down, bottoms-up posture when locked into the shackles … or use just the inner or outer ones for less restrictive floor playtime.
Transfer to the Upright Play Chair for a change of scenery.  Its hard molded rubber seat cups baby’s shoulders and buttocks comfortably, while anchoring flexible rubber-and-nylon straps that can be buckled around baby at waist, sternum, and thigh.  Straps retract into the core of the chair when not in use.  Molded rubber armrests “waterfall” down to become colorful front legs, which conceal pull-out ankle and knee straps for when spread legs are preferred to closed ones.  The wrist straps are extra-special – they can either restrain baby’s hands or be used to securely attach the included Play Tray, a steel “desk” space for completing slave’s little homework or playing with toys.  Included rubber Play Tray Mat is a smooth surface for suction cups or dishwasher-safe liner for feeding.  Extra Play Tray Mat Set includes one rubber and one patterned nylon liner for easy swapping, too!
Upright Play Chair has steel legs and locking casters for sturdiness and ease in positioning baby.  Its seat has a discreet center hole so baby can go potty while strapped in.  The hard rubber Stillness Potty slides right underneath!  Potty’s matching soft rubber lap strap with its solid steel buckles retracts underneath to keep out of the way when baby goes peepee from above … springs right back out at a gentle tug to secure slave on the potty.  Complete baby’s little potty corner by positioning the Stainless Full-Length Mirror in front of the chair so slave can watch themself go.
When slaves aren’t ready for potty training – or whenever playtime pauses for changies – Stillness Changing Table is ready for service.  Beautifully upholstered in wipe-clean patterned nylon with rubber corner bumpers, this sturdy nursery necessity has two arching arms that swivel into place above baby’s chest.  The lower arm has two sliding clamps with stay-on rubber tips for attachment to slave’s nipples.  The upper arm has two welded-on loops to hold short chains, where baby’s wrists and ankles can be attached to keep the legs raised in diaper position.  You’ll see very little wiggling when both are in use – especially if you lift the velcro flap from the changing pad and tuck it across baby’s middle, securing it firmly on the other side.
Changing table includes four detachable Velcro Cuffs in matching solid rubber/patterned nylon – and the low steel rails that surround the changing pad furnish extra tie points for absolute flexibility in adult baby restraint.  Two undershelves – one full-width, one half-width to accommodate taller items – are sturdy sheet steel perforated with a subtle space-age pattern.  Don’t risk losing a cuff; order an extra Velcro Cuff Set for half off normal price when you commission your Changing Table.
To complete your nursery furniture, sleek Stainless Steel Nursery Shelf matches Changing Table design and offers three shelves in baby’s reach, while Hanging Steel Nursery Shelf has the same dimensions but screws into drywall at caregiver’s eye level.  Stillness Nylon Baby Wardrobe stands five feet high and contains hanging space, four half-width drawers, and two full-width drawers on silent-glide sliders.  Twelve molded rubber hangers are included to keep cute little outfits looking fresh.
No nursery is complete without matching accessories, so we are also proud to offer nylon-upholstered Lidded Storage Boxes in nesting sets of two, made from heavy chipboard and finished with rubber grips.  These slide easily into the Changing Table’s undershelves.  Hard rubber Toy Bins match your chosen solid color and nest neatly inside the smaller Storage Boxes for perfect organization.  
Complete nursery’s look with Stainless Stillness Nursery Decor Set, including three stand-or-hang stainless steel Picture Frames – one 5x7, two 6x8 – an egg-shaped steel Keepsake Box, and a Steel Planets Mobile.  Prepare for baby care with Stillness Rubber Nursery Essentials, a collection of enema bag, bulb syringe, molded posture collar, and strap-in pacifier, plus two rounded steel padlocks, all in a sleek nylon-upholstered box.  A slightly scaled-up version of this box with sturdy interior dividers contains the Stainless Stillness Restraint Essentials: two telescoping Spreader Bars, spider gag, twelve clover clamps, chain collar, and six additional padlocks in a decorative lock-shaped container.
Help baby sleep soundly with a fleece-lined nylon Eyemask and nylon rod-pocket Blackout Curtains or Blackout Pulldown Shades – and if you do not have a curtain rod, we offer a Space Age Steel Curtain Rod with sleek geometric finials.  Interlocking Rubber Floor Tiles that integrate with the Tummy Time Mat are available in the standard Silky Pink, Little Boy Blue, and Vintage Mint options, plus Black; order two or more sets to create your own high-impact flooring pattern with the low-impact springy tread.
All items may be ordered separately.  10% discount if you order the full suite.  Steel parts can be coated in rose gold or black enamel for an upcharge; contact us for more customization details.
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wardenred · 1 year ago
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Sapphic September 8: Gravity
So I wanted to take a stab at Flo and Meline's enemies-to-almost-lovers dynamic, buuuut I think I'm rusty and mostly got the enemies part. 😅
Rain made X-City grayer than usual. Behind the toned windows of the coffee shop, people hurried down the sidewalk with their heads low and the cars crawled through the wet streets like beasts stalking prey. It was warm inside, though. Cozy. Pleasant. Retro pop music played from the heart-shaped speakers, neon lights changed color smoothly, and the hot coffee smelled like a new beginning.
It was a nice evening. Or it could have been, if Flo didn't look so utterly sullen across the table from Mel.
Maybe dragging her here wasn't such a good idea, after all. But it had felt like the only sensible one when they ran into each other. Strange how they shared such an enormous city and led such vastly different lives, and yet they kept ending up in the same places, at the same time. Like gravity. 
"So. Are you that unhappy to see me?" Mel asked once the silence stretched too far past the point of comfort.
Something dark flashed behind Flo's eyes. "I'm just waiting for the interrogation to begin."
Mel frowned. "This isn't an interrogation."
"Oh, yeah? So you haven't been stalking me?"
"No!" She had to pause and take a breath. Some people were paranoid. Some people were Flo. She should have known. "Why do you always have to be so difficult? I was running an errand. I saw you. I invited you to hang out, and you didn't say no."
"Because I don't want you to follow me home and intrude upon my life."
Yes. Wow. This was going wonderfully. "Why would I?"
Flo leaned forward so sharply Mel's instincts simply forced her to back away. "Maybe because your mommy dearest wants to know who broke some people out of one of her holding cells, and you suspect I can tell you."
So much for not thinking about work for a while, and also, what on earth. "How do you even know about that?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Less than half an hour in each other's company, and they were already exchanging glares. Far from a new record, of course, but seriously, it would be funny if it wasn't so frustrating.
Mel looked mournfully at the receding foam in her cup. "I was really looking forward to taking a break from all the work stuff, you know," she complained, mostly to her coffee. "Flo, seriously? If you or your people are behind that, don't tell me. Don't force me to act on this. Please."
"Way to make yourself a victim," Flo muttered. She crossed her arms over her dull red sweatshirt and huffed, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "You've already acted plenty. You were the one who got those people locked up in the first place, weren't you?"
Mel squirmed in her cushioned chair. "My team and I, yes. It was on the news. Surely you know."
"I know plenty," Flo agreed. "Do you? Look at me. Do you know why those people needed to be behind bars?"
"Gee, because they are criminals? They were stealing from the Corps."
"The Corps are stealing from everybody."
"The laws—"
"Fuck your laws." 
Over at another table, someone's spoon cluttered onto a fine china plate. They were gaining an audience.
It was Mel's turn to lean in, choking on a hot whisper, "Stop this. Those people brought it upon themselves, and you know it. They were caught red-handed, and they resisted arrest—"
"So you murdered a couple to motivate the rest of them to cooperate. Because you're a hero."
"They attacked us first!"
"When you showed up to detain them and they knew what was coming."
Mel looked down at her hands to see them clenched into fists. "There was no good reason for what they did."
"Oh? Let me see." Flo's voice dripped with venom. "One of the guys who didn't survive this run-in with supreme justice? He buried a daughter only recently, and his second kid won't survive either without the stem treatment you're withholding from the masses. So he had plenty of reason to come and 'steal' from you lot. His one mistake was that he got sloppy and scared and now there's a sick kid in the Dumpsters missing a father." She finished her drink in one long gulp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and stood up. "So. Nice running into you, Mel. Hope you've enjoyed our little catch-up. I'll leave you to pay for my coffee since this was your idea, oh, and? Don't you dare follow me."
She stomped to the exit, and Mel was left alone to stew in the guilt she didn't want.
They would have plenty of other meetings like this, she was sure. Coming together, hurting each other, falling apart.
Maybe it wasn't gravity. Maybe it was a choice.
Maybe she should just let go.
She pressed the pay module of her fitness bracelet briefly against the terminal on the wall and picked up her purse. She was going to follow Flo. Just to make sure she made it home safely.
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demolitionpeach · 1 year ago
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Real World inspired Penthouse
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A four-level Real World Inspired Penthouse in the fashion district of San Myshuno designed to let you cut your Sims loose and watch them discover their own life through various activities and organically formed relationships.
Origin ID- Demolition Peach
🍑 $551,314 Simoleons
🍑 8 Bedrooms | 6 Bathrooms
🍑 Pool area ft. Lounge, Bar & Grill
🍑 Hookah Area, Dance floor, & Activities area
🍑 Photography/Modeling, Dancing, Wellness area, & more
CC List & Links:
*Most of these, if not all, can be found on the CurseForge App. I've done my best to catch every piece of CC I used throughout the build. At most, I may have missed a small clutter item but no major items were missed!
House of Harlix
Kwatei Part 1, 2, & 3
Brownstone
Spoons Part 1, 2, & 3
Baysic & Baysic Bathroom
Livin' Rum
Grove
Harluxe
Stockholm
Shop the Look
Jardane
Octave
Oak House
Bafroom
Florence
Pierism
Auntie Vera's Bathroom
David's Apartment (All available cc packs)
MCM
Domaine du Clos
The office mini kit
Sixam
Hotel Room
Small Spaces: Work From Home
Small Spaces: Laundry Room
Small Spaces: Pantry
Lux Bath
Retro Vibes
Stylish Wood Living room
Stylish Wood Cozy Guestroom
Stylish Wood Fancy Dining
Mid Century Modern Livingroom
Artz Line
Charly Pancakes
Modish
Maple & S. Constructions
Max20
Poolside Lounge
Master Bedroom
Tuds
Wave Living
Kate Emerald
Kozy Korner
Myshunosun
Flow storage & Clutter
Tranquil Bedroom
Sol Kitchen Redux
Lullaby Nursery
Simmify Music Nook
Simmify Music Nook Part 2
Simmify Instant Camera
Vanity Nook
Daria Bedroom
Lottie Bedroom
VÄSTERHAMN seating
Serene Bathroom
Midsummer Eve
Arrie Office
Peacemaker_cc
Bowed Living
Kitayama Bedroom
Syboulette
Nothing to Wear
Leaf-motif
Aubrey Office
Little Dica
Sleek Slumber
Rise & Grind Coffee House
Delicato Lounge
Shooshed
Simified Game Posters Megapack
Quirky Introvert
Lively Mug on a pair of Books
Taurus Design
Lilith Chillin' Areas Part 1 & 2
Eliza Bedroom
Follow me all over the internet to keep up with my builds -
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calmdownandcook · 5 months ago
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Calm Down and Cook Fancy Brownies
I once made dessert for an adult birthday party. The guest list was hip and chic New York City types and I wanted to impress. I wanted to impress but I also had little time available. So I went with a brownie mix but knew they couldn’t be “just brownies”, I thought I’d be so clever and just stir in different “mix-ins” into each of the 4 different batches of brownies. A little flavor intrigue for each brownie. This was so empowering because I immediately thought of 100 different choices. That was a long time ago and the only one I remember was Malt Balls. Malt balls are one of those things people always forget about but remember fondly. I put about one cup of malt balls in a ziplock bag, wrapped it in a dish towel, and smashed it with a hammer. This beautiful concoction of chips of chocolate and powdered malt was then stirred into the batter which was baked as usual. The party guests were blown away. I had invented malt ball brownies. What else could I invent and take all the credit for?
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First step, a basic brownie. You may have a recipe that is tried and true but in a true “judgment-free zone” you can look to a mix. I like any mix by Ghirardelli’s but you can test out many to find your favorite. Some are fudgy, some are cakey. I like to line a brownie pan with foil or parchment. I make sure 2 opposite sides have some hanging over the edge. This way, if the pan is well-greased, you can lift the brownies right out and have tidy slices. Of course, the serving size is up to you, petite 1-inch squares or 3-inch slabs are both appropriate. Find the mix you like best and stick with it, and then start exploring options.
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Explore Flavor your batter! A super easy way to bump up the flavor of your brownies is to simply add vanilla to the batter. It’s better but you don’t know why. This is where the phrase “je ne sais quoi” came from. But from there you can explore different flavor avenues. Instant coffee is lovely. 1 tablespoon is a good amount to start with, but be aware you are adding caffeine to the brownies (on top of the caffeine that comes with the chocolate). Call them mocha brownies and make your friends think you worked harder than you did. Try 1 teaspoon of cinnamon and call them Mexican, super easy (is there a place for a ½ spoonful of chili pepper here?) Is there a spice combo you love? Can you imagine it with chocolate? I can imagine something like ginger and cardamon. Give it a try, give it a fancy name. Another easy way to customize your brownies is with things stirred into the batter. Chocolate chips are the easiest. It can be bittersweet or milk chocolate, everyone has strong feelings about their favorite. An additional 3/4 cup of chips can actually be any kind and there’s a lot on the market now. White chocolate, peanut butter chips, cinnamon chips, and toffee also work as the additional stir-in. Nuts…go nuts. ¾ cup of your favorite kind. Walnuts and Almonds are good. You can go with pecans but I personally, for no specific reason, dislike pecans. Macadamia would be luxurious. Dried fruit is a way to pretend that your brownies are healthy. I’m kinda fond of dried cherries. Dried apricots mixed with chopped candied ginger would be elegant around the holidays. And now, candy. Add candy to your brownies. As previously mentioned, roughly chopped malt balls are very good and have a wee bit of a retro vibe. Very easy to do, try roughly chopped Andes Candies. And finally, a no-brainer, chopped Snickers bars, two of them should do. All these mix-ins can be stirred into the batter or sprinkled on top. Are you ready to take it one step further? Look to jam. You will want to use no more than ¾ cup. If you warm jam in the microwave a tiny bit it will become runnier. After you put your batter in the pan, put blobs of jam evenly spaced around the top. Then take a knife or a spoon and swirl around. Try to keep it evenly spaced. This is something that can be done with any nut butter too. A Cheesecake ribbon throughout the brownies is fun. I have found 8 ounces of cream cheese mixed thoroughly with an egg and a ⅓ of a cup of sugar is perfect. Stir these together until perfectly smooth and then swirl throughout. Once you perfect this you can flavor the cream cheese mixture with vanilla, instant coffee, or whatever you want.
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weeblyteblog · 11 months ago
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Superior Dairy: Wing's Passion for Excellence at Superior Dairy
A sanctuary for those who love frozen treats
Found at 325 N Douty St., Hanford, CA 93230-3951, Superior Dairy, a haven of cherished ice cream memories, boasts a history that spans generations and narrates a delectable tale. Established in 1929, this legendary restaurant, a haven for tantalized palates, has delighted with generous portions of house-made ice cream, the creation of delectably crafted banana splits, tempting sundaes, and savory sandwiches. Rich in history, Superior Dairy, a living testament to the enduring love for frozen treats, transcends the mere function of an ice cream business.
Wing, the current guardian of this icy sanctuary, a haven for generations of frozen treat enthusiasts, took the reins of ownership alongside her brother in 1994, following the passing of their grandfather. Since then, Wing has diligently continued the family heritage, a legacy woven from generations of passion and dedication. Superior Dairy Hanford, more than just a company, serves as a living testament to Wing's unwavering commitment to excellence, evident in every scoop of her delightful ice cream. Each creation, a testament to her passion for crafting the perfect flavor, utilizes only the freshest ingredients. Wing's dedication extends beyond simply serving desserts; she relentlessly pursues the goal of ensuring every customer's visit becomes a cherished memory. Entering Superior Dairy invites you to embark on a journey through history, where a symphony of flavors, a harmonious blend of tradition and innovation, awaits your palate.
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A friendly and welcoming atmosphere that makes you feel like you're part of the family.
Superior Dairy Hanford's menu, a symphony of flavors and textures, transcends the ordinary, inviting patrons to embark on a delightful culinary adventure. A world of timeless classics, such as Rocky Road, Vanilla, Chocolate, and Strawberry, and innovative creations unfolds, encapsulating the essence of this beloved ice cream paradise. The menu, a reflection of the seasons, offers mouthwatering options like Eggnog, Peppermint Stick, and Pumpkin Spice. Whimsical soft-serve choices, namely Vanilla, Chocolate, and Twist, add a playful touch, while housemade sorbets, a vibrant citrus alternative featuring Lemon, Lime, and Orange, offer refreshing options.
Sundaes, works of visual artistry encompassing flavors like Cookie Dough, Banana Split, Strawberry Shortcake, Brownie, and Hot Fudge, are a hallmark of Superior Dairy. Traditional milkshakes, including Vanilla, Chocolate, and Strawberry, as well as playful malts and floats that dance across the palate, delight enthusiasts. Ice Cream Sandwiches, both the classic Double Stuf and the innovative Waffle variety, offer an opportunity to enhance one's ice cream experience. Diverse beverages, such as soda, coffee, tea, and bottled water, quench thirst. Ice cream novelties, including Ice Cream Bars and Cones, offering a nostalgic charm, contribute to the harmonious blend of flavors that elevates Superior Dairy to a culinary haven.
A comfortable and relaxed setting that's perfect for a leisurely meal.
This establishment, a veritable time capsule, welcomes patrons with the echoes of laughter and the clinking of ice cream spoons, creating a symphony of joy. The ambiance, a haven for families and friends across generations, exudes warmth as they gather to create lasting memories. Vintage décor, a hallmark of the establishment, encompassing retro booths and checkered floors, adds to the enchantment, transporting patrons to an era where simplicity coexisted with timeless elegance. The welcoming hum of conversation, a soothing melody, interweaves with the sweet melodies of classic tunes, creating an atmosphere that is both lively and intimate. Whether choosing the iconic soda fountain counter, a symbol of the establishment's history, or a cozy booth, patrons are enveloped in the unmistakable sense of community fostered by Superior Dairy. The staff, with their warm smiles, a testament to their dedication, further enhance the inviting atmosphere, transforming each visit into a heartwarming experience. In the heart of Hanford, Superior Dairy not only serves delectable treats but also weaves a tapestry of ambiance, a captivating experience that captures the essence of a bygone era, making each visit a journey back in time and a celebration of the enduring spirit of community.
Contact Information
Address: 325 N Douty St, Hanford, CA 93230, United States
Phone number: +1 559 582 0481
Website: https://superior-dairy.club/
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thedisneychef · 1 year ago
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Chocolate Peanut Butter Sandwiches
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I picked a really bad week to be allergic to peanut butter. Ok, so I can't pick being allergic to peanut butter, but the truth of the statement still stands... This isn't a great week to have a peanut allergy in my house. It feels like everything I've made lately has peanuts or peanut butter in it. An even bigger bummer as everything I've made looks utterly fantastic. The recipe today is a total throwback. While it's something that's still around occasionally in Disneyland, it used to be one of Disney World's signature treats at the Main Street Bakery and Starring Rolls at the former MGM and has since been retired. I have heard that you can rarely find them around in the fall, especially around Halloween, but despite their cult status as a treat that rivals Mickey ice cream and rice treats, it hasn't been found reliably around WDW in about 10 years and Disneyland started phasing them out about 5 years ago. However, there was a time where these little sandwiches were the go-to treat. Creamy, chocolaty, and kept cold (even frozen!), they were like a peanut butter ice cream sandwich and a slice of heaven on a hot summer day. Their taste, retro feel, and former "must have" designation has elevated them almost to mythic cult status with Disney snackers... So much so that when they were brought back for 3 days (that's right, they were randomly available for 3 days), I saw Twitter forwards like you wouldn't believe when they'd been spotted and people giving running updates as to their availability.  Honestly, it was crazy.  I've never seen a snack inspire such frenzy in people. As a result of what I think is the most viral Disney Twitter explosion not involving the new Fantasyland that I know I'd ever seen, I reached out to one of my connections to get some more info about this treat. What I came back with was the recipe, direct from one of the folks who used to actually make it back in the mid 90s. According to him, the snack was good and enjoyed by many, but people complained that it'd melt too quickly and was way, way too messy to really enjoy. Then, as luck would have it, at the place on property where this treat was exclusively available at the time (which I'm not going to name because I don't want to get anybody in trouble for sharing the story with me...), in one of their displays that is refrigerated, they had some extra space and they decided to slide a few of these bad boys in the refrigerated case. From there, the iconic chocolate peanut butter sandwich as it was known was born and became a sensation, eventually becoming available at several places throughout Disney. Nobody really knows why these were phased out... They were time consuming to make and difficult to store, but more importantly they were served in conjunction with a sponsorship with a peanut butter company that has long since expired which may have been the nail in the coffin to this delicious treat. I'd have to agree that, while making these is easy, it certainly is time consuming and requires a lot of space, both on the counter and in the fridge. If you've got both of those issues worked out, then you've got a hit on your hands with this recipe. I served this as is, making no real changes at all. The only thing is that I don't have the fancy-pants molds that they have at Disney, so I quite literally spooned the mixture on the cracker and then molded it with my hands to a square, level shape.  It's not messy or sticky, so I really didn't mind getting hands-on with the peanut butter mixture. I'll also say that I went with a combination of chocolates... I did half of the bars with milk chocolate and a dark chocolate drizzle, the other half dark chocolate with dark chocolate (tempered with whipped cream) drizzle. Honestly, I hate working with milk chocolate because it's such a pain, so for those who don't do a lot of chocolate work, I'd suggest going with a dark or bittersweet and then adding whipped cream to reach a taste that you'd enjoy. But if you're more confident working with milk chocolate without burning it or having it seize, then go for it. Quality of chocolate really matters for this recipe, perhaps more then any other chocolate recipe I've used in awhile. Don't go cheap or you'll regret it. In fact, Disney has a contract with a certain chocolate company that they use for their chocolate work, a company that also has a store in Downtown Disney... Again, can't say the name here because this recipe isn't featured at their establishment, but I have made some marvelous cookies for this blog that come from the same spot if you need a hint... Anyway, they're expensive, but for sure the best way to go if you can find them in your grocery store. ~~~~  °o°  ~~~~ Read the full article
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my-mt-heart · 3 years ago
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Caryl Daydream: Body Art
He was pulled from a mild thought (one that concerned Mr. Hinley's parched rye fields) with a milder creaking of his door, followed by a figure, a dim oil lamp in hand. Though enshadowed, it had the lines of a woman. He gripped the hilt of his knife with furtiveness and waited. 
As the figure drew nearer, Daryl's eyes -they slowly blinked into the moon-coated darkness, to see none other than Carol. Their trip had led them to a tucked-away bungalow; retro looking, with two separate rooms for sleeping. And it looked charming, according to Carol. He had a sneaking suspicion that his longtime best friend had a fondness for vintage anything, really, and it suited her. He, himself, described her in his mind as having that 'touch' that could make any place a home, no matter how disheveled and deserted it looked. She could work wonders with a needle and thread; a bar of soap and vinegar, and create gourmet meals out of near scraps. It was from another time, altogether, that way of hers. And timeless, all the same. He remained reticent in telling her that, though. Settling instead for watching her as she scoped out a room for herself and tossed a "this one's smaller, I'll take it," over her shoulder at Daryl before disappearing inside. 
It wasn't terribly unusual, them using separate rooms. Their adventures on the road afforded them lots of time spent "together", and some space for two loners with individual demons was to be expected. Daryl reckoned Carol's behavior had more to deal with giving him some space from her, though. It turned out she didn't leave all her insecurities behind in rugged, blue-ridge Virginia. He hadn't wanted her to, either. All of Carol needed to be packed up with the rest of their belongings, as they headed off to find something all their own. Wherever that was. No, he didn't want a sliver of her to remain with anyone or anything that didn't involve him. That wasn't him. Not even her "broken" parts.
She hadn't re-emerged from the lofty-looking room, and Daryl took that as a sign of her wanting to be alone and get off her feet. Maybe stretch out on her bed or crawl under its comfy duvet. His steps led him to the other room that appeared to be something out of a Cabin Living catalog, with its sanded furniture and spit-shine floors. An oil canvas of a cowboy with his missus overlooking a piece of well-set range, told Daryl that many things awaited him -them- out there. 
It had been nearing one week since then. 
Shrugging his pack off after another long day, he'd lain down, the perimeters having been secured -and that was hours ago, when the sun still had one eye open at them. 
Now the hot, Pennsylvanian moon watched them through a window with a sash design and a flimsy curtain nailed over it by an even flimsier handyman. 
All of Carol was now highlighted by its rays; the stars flickered behind her like rambunctious children. She was smiling at him and had the comforter she filched from the other room with her, wrapped about her figure and head. Daryl unfastened his hold on the knife just as stealthily as before, and let the weapon slip back into its holster.   
"Thought you was sleepin'."
"A little while ago I was," she replied. "How are you?"
"Mm. Good," he readjusted a bit against the pillows and cleared his throat, whilst raising his right shoulder to relieve a kink in his neck. "You?"
"Me, too," but her voice faltered in the modest space between them. Daryl instantly righted himself, beginning to stand. 
"Huck, again? He do somethin' to you?" 
That would be Huck Hinsley, of Hinsley Farms. A man with a face far older than the rest of his body, and an ego the size of Texas to go with it, he was the lone operator of (according to him) the last handful of family-owned farms in the east country. Daryl imagined that gave him some pride -and certainly explained his arrogance. If one thought he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, they would've been wrong. Huck Hinsley was more liable to have been born with a twig between his gums. It was as native to his body as any of the other appendages that made up his impressive physique. 
He was also the rightful owner of the bungalow he and Carol had found around a week thence.
The most pained cry ripped from his chest as he had drawn his rifle on Daryl, who countered with his crossbow. Shouting profanities and spewing out damnations on him, Daryl was certain the man had gone mad. Who sobbed bitterly while threatening an enemy they didn't know from anywhere?
He had about a foot on Daryl, but he was certain he could still take him if it came to blows. Huck's "hulk" form didn't seem to make him as coordinated as Daryl, so he scanned the room, waiting for an opening to take him down. 
It never came to that. For Carol dashed into the room; her long-bow aimed right at him, commanding that he drop his target on Daryl. The advantage and dexterity clearly on their side, Daryl figured the towering man knew he'd had it. But once again, he had assailed Daryl's presumptions by doing the strangest thing he had seen in a while. 
He'd removed his straw hat. And clasped it against his chest with both hands, his rifle forgotten. 
Daryl thought he'd seen trembling coming off the man, but it was too slight to tell. He appeared stunned, though, rooted to the spot. Beads of sweat collected around his broad forehead; his Adam's apple poked out like a pig with a hernia, bobbing sparingly. 
But it was his eyes that unnerved Daryl the most. For how sincere they were. No longer clouded over with rage. A strange fondness and reverence now resided in them, like the peace that comes after a violent rainstorm. 
They know each other? Not likely, since Carol had never returned the man's strange salutation. She had, however, seemed struck by something about him; in him. She carefully lowered her weapon. 
"Is this your place?" No response. They all looked like statutes posed in a house of dolls. 
"She asked you a question," Daryl ripped out, fingers still curled tightly around the crossbow's trigger.
The man never looked away from Carol, but answered "Y-yes. It is." He had sounded criminally northeast American when shouting at Daryl moments ago, but now, a sort of honeyed Southern drawl replaced it. "Had it when I first married many moons ago, beggin' your pardon. Didn't mean to shout, frighten ya." 
So the place was important to him? Understandable. But Daryl still couldn't fathom the way this stranger had gone from zero to sixty and back down again in record time. He suspected something changed the atmosphere, and it wasn't the heat of the sun, now trekking to the highest point in the sky, that had done it. 
Carol blinked, glancing down the length of his body. And if Daryl knew Carol, it was to see if he was employing some odd tactic to regain the upper hand that she could alert him to. But she found none, and forsook her weapon entirely, stowing it away behind her. 
"We're sorry," she started. "We didn't mean to intrude. The place was empty when we arrived." 
The man gave a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, miss. It ain't empty no more." That placating way of his. An unmistakable mark of southern hospitality. Daryl felt all his muscles stiffen for some reason. "No needin' to be sorry, now. Can stay as long as you like." 
"Nah, we're leavin'," came Daryl, crossing the length of the room to stand in front of Carol. He couldn't name it, but he felt that was where he belonged at the moment. Even behind him, Daryl could sense Carol furrowing her brows at him. "Like she said. Sorry 'bout that." 
He had hoped that would be the final word, but for the umpteenth time, this large man who smelt of sweat mingled with whiskey, threw him off. 
"Reckon you can't be gettin' far with them bad wires of dynamo on your motorbike," a look of surprise flashed across Daryl's face. He knew the spark plugs were failing on their bike? The man nodded solemnly, as though he heard. "Had a chance to look 'em over when I did my usual inspectin' of the area. I know that particular smell of gas comin' off it ain't cause your engine's faulty." 
So he did have the advantage after all. Knowing the area, he recognized a foreign vehicle and also assessed its problem. He probably concluded, then, that Daryl and Carol would be unable to get very far without the bike failing them completely. 
Daryl knew the spark plugs were dying; it was why they stopped here in the first place. And he had explained to Carol that they needed new ones in order to continue traveling safely. That day they had made a plan to scout the area for any cars or trucks or bikes (though less likely) that might resolve the issue. One day turned into a few and they still came up with nothing. 
Until this strange man appeared.
Carol had gently patted Daryl's arm, as if asking for permission to speak. She didn't need it. 
"We actually were looking for the parts off any abandoned vehicles in the area," she explained. "But we weren't successful. Would you be able to help us, Mister…" the man's eyes brightened. 
"Huck Hinsley, miss." When Carol smiled at him, the man looked as though it touched him to his very being. 
"I'm Carol. This is Daryl. We hope we have your forgiveness for trespassing on your property. Maybe there's something we could do to make up for it? A trade, perhaps?" Daryl kept his eyes on this huckster Hinsley, but narrowed them at Carol's queries. What was she suggesting, time in exchange for supplies? "You help us with our problem and we help you with yours?"
"Don't look like he got anything that needs doin'," Daryl countered, not wanting any unnecessary involvement with the man. But he just smiled, sort of toothy, his head tilted ardently.  
"Reckon all of us got problems. The real bad kind." He had no idea what that could be referring to, but Daryl couldn't say he cared for the way Mr. Hinsley continued to stare at Carol. "Don't know where my manners got to these days. Pardon my rudeness." Only then did he nod at Daryl, finally acknowledging his presence since Carol entered the room. 
But only for a moment. Then it was back on Carol. "Didn't know you had a lady present." 
And that was four days ago. Or one repaired barn, three patched fences, four cleaned horse stalls, and eight, ten-foot long plowed and planted Rye rows, later. All in exchange for the parts they needed to get the bike running safely, again. That had been the agreement Mr. Huck Hinsley had offered in return for helping him fix up his farm about a mile up the road. They could even stay at this place for the duration of the agreement instead of with him in the farmhouse. Daryl had still been skeptical, but Carol eagerly accepted, rubbing Daryl's arm where neither man could see it. 
The one stipulation was that Carol specifically not lift her finger to do any hard manual labor. She could, however, use the farmhouse's kitchen to cook the meals for that day and evening and perform general housekeeping duties, including the cleaning and re-stitching of some old-fashioned dresses inside a wooden chest in his bedroom closet. On the third day of their tenure there, Carol had approached Huck about planting a bean garden in the patch of tilled soil, flanking the house. 
Man looked about ready to melt at her addressing him. Daryl felt his bowels burn with--
"Your eyes are red, Daryl," Carol touched Daryl's face, inspecting him under the moonlight, finding what she had been looking for. 
"Eyes are always red," He avoided. They were. Between the wind pounding his face as they rode fast down the highway, and the early hours they rose to track food and cover miles, Daryl's eyes were always red. Carol shook her head, retracting her hand. 
"Not this much," she returned softly. "And not this often." 
"Yeah?" What consequence was it, really? 
"You're tired, Daryl. You're not sleeping. Even less than you normally do. What's bothering you?" 
"Asked about Huck," he diverted. "He do anythin'?"
Carol frowned, but not in anger. "No, he didn't. You always ask that. Ever since we met him." Gesturing to his slightly slumped form, as if that were her proof. "It's literally keeping you up at night." He shrugged with a pretended indifference. 
"Don't trust him." 
"Why not?" 
"Just don't," he replied, turning his face away from her. His tone let Carol know he didn't care to explain what would classify as his reasons. Or rather, he couldn't.
So there was silence. The awkward kind that made one fidget in their seat or look around aimlessly for something to ramble on about, nervously. The long fringe of hair offered Daryl some invisibility as he glanced on Carol to see what she was doing, always careful to view how his words affected her. Or if she could see straight through him. Interestingly, there was a pursing together of her lips and a clutching of her fists around her mantle-blanket, before she slowly retreated from the room. 
Daryl watched her go, pretending to be unfazed. But failing. 
He was surprised when she returned -as the Black-Crowned night heron just completed two of its calling rounds- carrying a tray that contained food, covered with a linen cloth, which she placed without a word on his end table. 
She must have wanted him to eat, but he wasn't hungry. Something that tasted like an apology, however, clotted his throat; something he wanted to voice, but wondered if that would make it worse -seeing as though he couldn't properly explain why he was sorry. 
Carol came near him, again. Blanket still in place. She ran her eyes over all of him, before letting out a steadying sigh. 
"What are you doin'?" He peeked up at her, sideways.
"Scooch," was all she said, sliding in beside him. A scent like flower petals entered his nostrils, filling his lungs, and he couldn't help the exhale that followed. 
Sharing a bed was more common for them than sleeping separately. But Daryl gave a bewildered look at the way Carol was practically hovering over him, her palm pushing the curtain of strands from his face. She seemed to be searching for something there, and must have found it, because she pressed her lips to his forehead in a kiss. 
".....?" Daryl could only gasp. What's she doin'? 
The night heron stopped mid-call. "Carol…?" 
"Relax," her voice was of a soothing quality. Therapeutic. "It's okay." She kissed just above his eye -where his scar was- before bringing both her hands up to massage his temples. Her fingertips were cool. Cooling. Like-
"That smell…" he voiced, recognizing it. The herbs Carol had planted all over Huck's garden. Her hands smelled of it, now. Just now? Was it there before? Why hadn't he noticed it? Had Huck? 
"Peppermint," she answered deep into his ear as she continued her work on his temples. A shiver swiveled down his spine like descending a fireman's pole. "Do you like it? It's good aromatherapy."
"Aroma?....Therapy?" He winced at the pleasure she inflicted on him. What on Earth was happening? "...Why?" 
"You work so hard everyday. All the farming and repairing you've done with Mr. Hinsley-" 
"-Huck," Daryl cut in, his face moving with Carol's ministrations like putty, as she moved over to massage the delicate skin around his eyes. If she had noticed the brazen tone he'd used, she didn't mention it. Instead, she hummed in support. Their bodies vibrated in the prying light of the moon. 
"He said you two work well together." She mused. 
"No, we don't," he grunted in return. In his estimation they didn't, anyway. Not one of their grueling tasks had been completed without the man throwing demands over his shoulder at Daryl like they were hot potatoes. 
And some of them were actual potatoes, too. Huck would chuck them backwards between his legs like some All-American football star from the 1930s; just ordering Daryl to collect the unearthed tubers in the burlap bag, and to stay behind him. He might have been a considerable deal younger than this Hinsley man was, but Daryl was no kid. They would get a lot more accomplished if he would just let him work independently.  
Same was true with that damn barn of his. If Huck just let Daryl hammer along with him, instead of making him stand below to hand him extra pieces of plywood like a waterboy, the barn would have been repaired in half the time. And the sooner that was done, the sooner they could leave.
Only when Carol would step into view, could Daryl see the change in him. Sometimes she carried refreshing glasses of homemade iced tea or lemonade with her. Other times it was water and a midday meal. She always looked like a drink of water, though. The way he noticed how Huck would routinely lick the sweat from around his lips, and remove his hat for her in respect -and her, smiling genuinely in return- made Daryl the third wheel on that wheelbarrow they were using to haul around supplies on the farm. 
And he felt his blood heating up, but not from Carol's hands. 
"He's a kind man," accentuated Carol. "Maybe a little rough around the edges…" she let her hands travel up into his hairline, pulling and pressing on his scalp with the right amount of pressure that Daryl's eyes drooped sleepily, beckoning him to relax. Somehow he had developed a headache over this entire frustrating situation, and Carol's fingers in that area were creating a natural compress. "Nothing a little tenderness can't help soften up, though." 
"The hell he need softenin' for?" As good as Carol was making him feel, it did little to abate the anger in him. "You ain't his maid."
That remark made Carol's hands pause in his hair. She moved her face to his before briefly nuzzling it. Having her this close for longer than an embrace was intoxicating. Daryl wanted to purr but didn't. 
"I know I'm not," she whispered solemnly, dragging her nails down both his earlobes in repeated motions. The hairs on his neck stood up, liking it. "I just mean he's got his reasons. For being the way that he is." 
"That his reason for lookin' at you so damn much?" 
"What do you mean?" Now Carol had stopped all movement and focused on Daryl, whose own eyes were shifting about, in an attempt to find something safe (or safer) to look at. "Daryl?"
"Nothin'. Don't mean nothing." He said with haste, wanting to forget it.
Carol seemed about ready to comment when something flickered by the other window above their headboard, catching her attention. She noticed it and looked up at it, Daryl following her gaze a few moments later. 
"A moth." Carol observed. The insect appeared to have been trying to get out, but couldn't. "Kind of big, too, isn't he? Is that a different breed of moth around here? Or did he just swallow half that curtain over there?" She asked half-seriously, as if Daryl would know. Insect breeds, classification, wasn't his area. But he squinted in disbelief at Carol not being able to recognize the most basic difference in this case.
"She." Carol peered back down at Daryl, as though she hadn't quite heard him.
"It's a female moth?" She tilted her head back at the creature, unsure of which signs she should be looking for to distinguish its sex. "Are the females usually the larger of their kind?" Daryl chewed on his lip a bit before deciding to answer. 
"It's pregnant." Carol gasped, unabashedly fascinated. 
"Really? How can you tell?" From Daryl's position, he had an upside down view of the window's ledge with the moth above him. He didn't know if that made it easier to spot, but he craned his neck further back and pointed with his chin at it. 
"Its ass is, like, twice the size of a normal moth's." Carol gave a sound that told Daryl she comprehended. But then, she snorted. 
"Spying on her bum and saying it's fat -don't you think she's self-conscious?" 
Daryl's muscles rigidified beneath her, and he looked away from both Carol and the moth, slightly. Trying to think. He didn't know what made a female self-conscious. He didn't have a mother to teach him any of that by the time he was an adolescent. No way he would learn any of it Merle's way, either. Body parts were just that, weren't they? He didn't mean anything by it.  
Carol's smile was flashing in his face like the high beams on an eighteen-wheeler. He narrowed his eyes at her, but wondered if he was just blushing. 
"Don't mean it like that," he recovered with a mutter that made him feel pathetic. "Its belly is pretty big, too..." he added as an afterthought. 
Carol, an idea having struck her, lifted the heavy blanket from her to reach for the linen cloth covering the tray she had brought in with her, earlier. Daryl stared with curiosity as he saw her rip off a small piece of fabric and place it near the moth's plump buttocks. 
"What's that for?" 
"Giving her some privacy," Carol said on an exhale, reaching over them to tuck the soft material where the moth had stopped flailing about against the glass. "Us girls have to look out for each other, right?" She had said to the nocturnal moth, and maybe that was what caused her to settle down a bit more and rest against the fabric; its bottom now completely covered. "There. Do you think she'll be okay?" 
Daryl couldn't say. But he didn't see why not. "I'm sure nature will take its course." 
Carol gave one more sympathetic look to the winged creature, her features contorting into something rueful. 
"You know Ed wasn't there when I had given birth to Sophia, either." It was a dead note, like the ending of a tragic number in a classical arrangement. And the sentiment hit Daryl like a ton of grand pianos that played that life-snatching note. "I had her all alone, trying to drive myself to the hospital. Stuffing towels under myself, so my baby would have something soft to land on, upon coming into this world." She shook her head at the memory, and rubbed Daryl's sleeve absentmindedly. "But, you're right. If I was okay, our moth friend will be, too." 
Daryl wanted to chastise himself for bringing up something that stirred up such awful memories for his best friend. But knew that Carol wouldn't take too kindly to that response, so he dropped it. Sighed and offered: "She wanted to meet you. Your little girl." 
It wasn't much of a condolence, and he knew it. Still, Carol looked down at him, emotion stinging her eyes. As if that was the kindest thing anyone's ever told her. He wondered if it indeed was. To him, Carol deserved all the accolades and compliments one could give. But maybe, in this instance, a moment of silence was the highest honor. So he stayed quiet. She almost whispered: "I wanted to meet her, too. So badly." Then brought her head down to rest on Daryl's shoulder, and let herself sniffle. 
A barn owl sang out from a tree canopy-ing the house and they laid together, enjoying the break in tension it offered.  
"So," she mused in a mischievous tone. "If I were pregnant, would you be able to know it by the size of my trunk, too?" Daryl blanched. 
It clobbered any thoughts he had been paying to the departed Sophia and the anguish her mother had gone through since. Now his facial muscles felt foreign, and too large for his own body to maneuver.
"Huh?" He answered, trying to backtrack his thoughts and coming up with nothing sufficiently controversial. 
"Would you?" She actually wanted to know. It wasn't just her yanking his chain, as she was apt sometimes to do. When the mood hit her just right. Like the moon was hitting her hair just right now, giving it an ethereal shine. 
Maybe it was her hair messing with his thoughts, making them less coherent. Because before he knew it, he had uttered an undramatic, "guess I could. Since that's where most of the weight on you would go." And immediately, he regretted it. 
Carol had pulled back to stare into his terrified eyes, just as shocked as he was. It was like looking at his own reflection in a mirror. And the owl 'hooted' no more. 
"You watch my ass, Daryl?" She quirked a brow at him. He couldn't read how she was asking that question; whether as a flummoxed female, or a disturbed equal or an offended friend. Over the years, he had certainly watched her. Watched over her while she slept or cleared hundreds of abandoned buildings. Watched her from afar as she canoodled with the king, and that Tobin fellow; watched her up close in that odd friendship she forged with Negan of all people. He watched her walk away. From him. From them. 
He suddenly felt quite ill, having too much experience in that area than he was comfortable admitting. He wanted to open a window, let the stale air out. But was trapped beneath Carol, imprisoning him with that gaze of hers -and that query. 
So he went tripping over his words, like a regular Jack-and-Jill. "I, uh- no. I, that's -meant that…'s just, I always watch you. All of you." He hoped that sufficed, however choppy. Carol was good about putting the pieces together. Understanding what he meant. He hoped she was doing that now. 
But she hadn't said anything. Not a word. Even the silence was loud. Carol simply stared at him, nothing in her face giving away a thing about how she took his honest remark. His whole body burned under her gaze, wanting -needing- for her to speak, and say something to him. Even if it was critical. Or reprimanding. 
"A lot of folks look at you," he tried again, attempting to iron his crumpled up voice out. "Back home. And out here. Huck does. A lot. Seen him doin' it a whole bunch of times. Ain't just me." He hated how defensive he sounded. Like he had a right to justify his actions by explaining it that way. He clicked his teeth, wanting to forsake himself altogether. Why couldn't the words just come together? Why couldn't they ever for him? 
Carol remained silent, a concentrated gaze searing a hole into his head. He felt exposed then, as though she could see and read and hear every thought he had stored away about her in there. And confiscate it. 
"Daryl, I-" she finally began, but Daryl cut her off so fast, his breathing came out in shallow spurts. 
"You mad?" He wanted to, but could not help the fear, shading his tone a dark color. It contrasted greatly with the lightness in hers.
"Oh, Daryl," Carol breathed, as she brought her lips unmistakably close to his before saying. "I think that's pretty romantic." 
He had only begun to process that familiar phrase, when the next thing Daryl had felt was her lips on his for the very first time. 
I am so sorry. 😞 This is actually just a one-shot but it is too long. It is supposed to have a love scene between them too but maybe I did it wrong by writing too much? I tried to fix it. But my story pacing is not good. But I wanted to give this to you first before TWD starts again. If you don't think it should have it, I can just leave it like that.
Well HOLY GODDAMN as our friend Negan would say. Babe, don't apologize for your writing style. To me, it felt like I was reading an extended scene straight from the spinoff. The nice thing about writing fan fiction/ short stories is there's a lot more room for mundanity. Sometimes the excitement is in the smaller details and your work here is a perfect example of that. I loved the subtle allusions to Daryl's jealousy and Carol being coy, and I especially loved the payoff at the end. It works well as it is, but I REALLY want to read the love scene. Don't worry about the length. I guarantee it won't detract from the quality of the story.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago
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Looking for a Place to Happen 5
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down
💀💀💀
It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.
Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.
Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.
“Is that man coming back?” she asked.
You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”
“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”
You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.
“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.
“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.
“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”
“Nan,” you gasped at her language.
“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”
You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.
“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”
“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”
“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”
“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.
“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.
“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”
“And what happened to him?”
It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.
“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”
You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.
“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.
“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”
You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.
💀
Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.
He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.
“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”
“I’m working,” you said quietly.
“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.
“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.
“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”
You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.
The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.
“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”
“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.
“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”
He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.
“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”
You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.
“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”
You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.
“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”
You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.
“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”
You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.
You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.
He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.
“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”
He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.
“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.
“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.
You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?
“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”
You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.
“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”
You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.
You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.
You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.
“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”
You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.
“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.
You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.
“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”
You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.
“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.
“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”
“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.
You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.
You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.
“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”
You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.
“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”
You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.
He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.
He caught your shoulder and held you down.
“Again,” he ordered.
You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.
“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.
He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt. 
“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.
You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.
He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.
“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.
You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.
“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”
“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”
His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder. 
He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.
He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder. 
Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.
He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.
“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”
He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.
“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”
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flufffysocks · 4 years ago
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let's talk about andi mack's worldbuilding
sorry this took forever to make! i've been pretty busy with school stuff and i kind of lost my inspiration for a bit, but i ultimately really enjoyed writing it! i wish i could've included more pics (tumblr has a max of 10 per post), and it kinda turned from less of a mini analysis to more of an extremely long rant... but i hope it's still a fun read!
i've been rewatching the show over the past few weeks (thanks again to @disneymack for the link!), and i’ve been noticing a lot that i never did the first time around. this is really the first time i’ve watched the show from start to finish since it aired, and it honestly feels so different this time - probably a combination of the fact that i’m not as focused on plot and can appreciate the show as a whole, and also that the fandom is much, much smaller now, so there’s a lot less noise. so the way i’m consuming this show feels super different than it did the first time, but the show itself doesn’t - it’s just as warm and comforting to me as it was the first time around, if not more so.
i think a lot of that can be attributed to andi mack’s “worldbuilding”. i’m not quite sure that this is the right word in this context, to be honest, because i mostly see it used in reference to fantasy and sci-fi universes, but it just sort of feels right to me for andi mack, because you can really tell how much love and care went into constructing this universe. for clarity, worldbuilding is “the process of creating an imaginary world” in its simplest sense. there’s two main types: hard worldbuilding, which involves inventing entire universes, languages, people, cultures, places, foods, etc. from scratch (think “lord of the rings” or “dune”), and soft worldbuilding, in which the creators don’t explicitly state or explain much about the fictional universe, but rather let it’s nature reveal itself as the story progresses (think studio ghibli films). andi mack to me falls in the soft worldbuilding category. even though it takes place in a realistic fiction universe, there’s a lot of aspects to it that are inexplicably novel in really subtle ways.
so watching the show now, i’ve noticed that the worldbuilding comes primarily from two things - setting and props, and oftentimes the both of them in tandem (because a big part of setting in filmmaking does depend on the props placed in it!).
one of the most obvious examples is the spoon. it really is a sort of quintessential, tropic setting in that it's the main gang's "spot", which automatically gives it a warm and homey feel to it. and its set design only amplifies this:
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the choice to make it a very traditional 50s-style diner creates a very nostalgic, retro feel to it, which is something that's really consistent throughout the show, as you'll see. from the round stools at the bar, to the booths, to the staff uniforms, this is very obvious. the thing that i found especially interesting about it though is the choice of color. the typical 50s diner is outfitted with metallic surfaces and red accented furnishings, but the spoon is very distinctly not this.
instead, it's dressed in vibrant teal and orange, giving it a very fresh and modern take on a classic look. so it still maintains that feeling of being funky and retro, but that doesn't retract from the fact that the show is set distinctly in modern times.
of course, this could just be a one-off quirky set piece, but this idea of modernizing and novelizing "retro" things is a really common motif throughout the show. take red rooster records. i mean, it's a record shop - need i say more? it's obviously a very prominent store in shadyside, at least for the main characters, but there's no apparent reason why it is (until season 2 when bowie starts working there, and jonah starts performing there). a lot of the time, though, it functions solely as a record shop. vinyl obviously isn't the most practical or convenient way of listening to music, but it's had its resurgence in pop culture even in the real world, mostly due to its aesthetic value, so it's safe to say that it serves the same purpose in the andi mack universe.
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the fringe seems to be nostalgic of a different era, specifically the Y2K/early 2000s period (because it's meant to be bex's territory and symbolic of who she used to be, and its later transformation into cloud 10 is representative of her character arc, but that's beside the point). to be honest, exactly what this store was supposed to be always confused me. it was kind of a combination party store/clothing store/makeup store/beauty parlor? i think that's sort of the point of it though, it's supposed to feel very grunge-y and chaotic (within the confines of a relatively mellow-toned show, of course), and it's supposed to act as a sort of treasure chest of little curios that both make the place interesting and allow the characters to interact with it.
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and, of course, there's andi shack. this is really the cherry on top of all of andi mack's sets, just because it's so distinctly andi. it serves such amazing narrative purpose for her (ex. the storyline where cece and ham were going to move - i really loved this because it highlights its place in the andi mack universe so well, and i'm a sucker for the paper cranes shot + i'm still salty that sadie's cranes didn't make it into the finale) and it's the perfect reflection of andi's character development because of how dynamic it is (the crafts and art supplies can get moved around or switched out, and there's always new creations visible).
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going back to the nostalgia motif though, the "shack" aspect of it always struck me as very treehouse-like. personally, whenever i think of treehouses, there's this very golden sheen of childhood about it, if that makes sense. i've always seen treehouses in media as a sort of shelter for characters' youthful innocence and idealistic memories. for example, the episode "up a tree" from good luck charlie, the episode "treehouse" from modern family, and "to all the boys 2" all use a treehouse setting as a device to explore the character's desire to hold onto their perfect image of their childhood (side note: this exact theme is actually explored in andi mack in the episode "perfect day 2.0"!). andi shack is no exception to this, but it harnesses this childhood idealism in the same way that it captures the nostalgia of the 50s in the spoon, or the early 2000s in the fringe. it's not some image of a distant past being reflected through that setting; it's very present, and very alive, because it reflects andi as she is in the given moment.
some honorable mentions of more one-off settings include the ferris wheel (from "the snorpion"), the alley art gallery (from "a walker to remember"), SAVA, the color factory (from "it's a dilemna"), and my personal favorite, the cake shop (from "that syncing feeling").
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[every time i watch this episode i want to eat those cakes so bad]
these settings have less of a distinctly nostalgic feel (especially the color factory, which is a very late 2010s, instagram era setting), but they all definitely have an aura of perfection about them. andi mack is all about bright, colorful visuals, and these settings really play to that, making the andi mack universe seem really fun and inviting, and frankly very instagrammable (literally so, when it comes to the color factory!).
props, on the other hand, are probably a much less obvious tool of worldbuilding. they definitely take up less space in the frame and are generally not as noticeable (i'm sure i'll have missed a bunch that will be great examples, but i'm kind of coming up with all of this off the top of my head), but they really tie everything together.
for example, bex's box, bex's polaroid, and the old tv at the mack apartment (the tv is usually only visible in the periphery of some shots, so you might not catch it at first glance) all complement that very retro aesthetic established through the settings (especially the polaroid and the tv, because there's really no good reason that the characters would otherwise be using these).
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besides this, andi's artistic nature provides the perfect excuse for plenty of colorful, crafty props to amplify the visuals and the tone. obviously, as i discussed before, andi shack is the best example of this because it's filled with interesting props. but you also see bits of andi's (and other people's) crafts popping up throughout the show (ex. the tape on the fridge in the mack apartment, andi's and libby's headbands in "the new girls", walker's shoes, andi's phone case, and of course, the bracelet). not only does doing this really solidify this talent as an essential tenet of andi's character, but it also just makes the entirety of shadyside feel like an extension of andi shack. the whole town is a canvas for her crafts (or art, depending on how you want to look at it. i say it's both), and it immensely adds to shadyside's idealism. because who wouldn't want to live in a world made of andi mack's creations?
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and, while it's not exactly a prop, the characters' wardrobe is undoubtedly a major influence on the show's worldbuilding. true to it's nature as a disney channel show, all of the characters are always dressed in exceptionally curated outfits of whatever the current trends are, making the show that much more visually appealing. i won't elaborate too much on this, because i could honestly write a whole other analysis on andi mack's fashion (my favorites are andi's and bex's outfits! and kudos to the costume designer(s) for creating such wonderful and in-character wardrobes!). but, i think it's a really really important aspect of how the show's universe is perceived, so it had to be touched upon.
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[^ some of my favorite outfits from the show! i am so obsessed with andi's jacket in the finale, and i aspire to be at bex's level of being a leather jacket bisexual]
and lastly, phones. this is a bit of an interesting case (pun intended), because the way they're used fluctuates a bit throughout the show, but i definitely noticed that at least in the first season terri minsky tried to avoid using them altogether. these efforts at distancing from modern tech really grounds the show in it's idealist, nostalgia-heavy roots, so even when the characters start using their phones more later in the show, they don't alter the viewer's impression of the andi mack universe very much.
so, what does all of this have to do with worldbuilding? in andi mack's case, because it's set in a realistic universe and not a fantasy one, a lot of what sets it apart from the real world comes down to tone. because, as much as this world is based on our own, it really does feel separate from it, like an alternate reality that's just slightly more perfect than ours, which makes all the difference. it's the idealism in color and composition in andi mack's settings that makes it so unmistakably andi mack. even the weather is always sunny and perfect (which is incredibly ironic because the town is called shadyside - yes, i am very proud of that observation).
the andi mack universe resides somewhere in this perfect medium that makes it feel like a small town in the middle of nowhere (almost like hill valley in 1955 from "back to the future"), but at the same time like an enclave within a big city (because of its proximity to so many modern, unique, and honestly very classy looking establishments). it is, essentially, an unattainable dream land that tricks you into believing it is attainable because it's just real enough.
all this to say, andi mack does an amazing job of creating of polished, perfect world for its characters. this is pretty common among disney channel and nickelodeon shows, but because most other shows tend to be filmed in a studio with three-wall sets, andi mack is really set apart from them in that it automatically feels more real and tangible. it has its quintessential recurring locations, but it has far more of them (most disney/nick shows usually only have 3-4 recurring settings), and it has a lot more one-off locations. it's also a lot more considerate when it comes to its props, so rather than the show just looking garish and aggressively trendy, it has a distinctive style that's actually appropriate to the characters and the story. overall this creates the effect of expanding the universe, making shadyside feel like it really is a part of a wider world, rather than an artificial bubble. it's idealism is, first and foremost, grounded in reality, and that provides a basis for its brilliant, creative, and relatable storytelling.
tl;dr: andi mack's sets and props give it a very retro and nostalgic tone which makes its whole universe seem super perfect and i want to live there so bad!!
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beigehearts · 4 years ago
Text
The Price of Self Respect
Please refer to my master list for the other chapters! Sorry for the short chapter, the last three will be long
PART VII
CW:  mentions of kidnapping
1,054 words
____________________________________________
Instead of splitting off as planned form the rest of the troupe, you and Chrollo are sticking around for a while so you can count the jenny you got from the last mission. In order to divide it evenly among the troupe. Another thing, you were somewhat surprised to find out that Chrollo is against PDA. Not that you mind of course, finding it embarrassing, especially with the man who kidnapped you.
The familiar struggle of knowing you can't have feelings for Chrollo and the fact that you still do- still lingers. An inner warfare rages through you when it comes to Chrollo. There's a very fine line between pretending to show genuine affection and actually showing genuine affection at the moment. Though it's a fine line that is very blurry.
The nights where you are are very cold, close to below zero. You're unsure of where the rest of the troupe has been sleeping but you and Chrollo have put a mattress on the ground with two pillows and a heavy sheet.
To say you're cold is an understatement- the heavy sheet providing little warmth- though the heat of Chrollo's skin makes up for it. He has his arms wrapped around you, both your bodies mostly bare in order to generate more heat. Your eyes travel up his chest until they stop at his face. The cross on his forehead seems unnaturally placed, though without it he wouldn't be the same. You trace your fingers up his muscular arm, wondering what time it is. It's no longer dark out- sun shining through the foliage and into the cave you occupy.
Your attention is caught when he begins to shuffle around, pulling your body closer to him. He plants a kiss on your forehead and nuzzles your head into his chest. "Good morning." He yawns out.
You hum in response to his greeting. "Another day of counting jenny, how fun." With a roll of your eyes, you flip over and push your back against his chest.
He chuckles, "Oh don't be dramatic. We'll stop by the nearest town for breakfast before we start the day."
The sound of a hot coffee or a hot tea right now is heavenly. Some food wouldn't hurt too- you've been living off of granola bars for a while now. You can only eat so much granola before your body begins to crave something other than grain.
The both of you get dressed, putting your clothes on while remaining under the covers. While it is freezing- it's a beautiful walk through the woods to the next town over. The hour it takes to get through the wooded area is filled with small laughter and quiet talking. The both of you being quiet as if not to disturb the nature- the creatures of the woods. Morning dew wets your shoes, and there's a satisfying crunch under your feet thanks to the leaves and twigs.
It's a pretty big town and you two stroll through a quaint neighborhood with some small shops. Chrollo probably wouldn't feel comfortable taking you somewhere super populated just in case you make a scene and try to escape.
You sit down at small diner named "Galactic Dining". It's old fashioned with red booth seats and retro tables. The seats are a bit ripped up but comfortable.
You order a coffee and so does Chrollo. Oldies quietly play and serenade people throughout the building. Even though there are only four other people eating here.
"I have a question." You state.
"What is it?"
"What do you expect from this?" You make eye contact and continue, "Keeping me with you against my will until we're both old and wither away?"
You spin your spoon in your coffee, clinking against the ceramic cup.
He clears his throat, seeming like he's been put on the spot. "Against your will? Is that what this is? I didn't realize." He hums, "I'll have to rethink this since I now know I'm not what you want. Either way you'll stay with me."
"What's the difference of me wanting to stay with you and not wanting to if you're going to keep me anyway?"
"It's the difference of whether or not I take your nen ability." He leans his face against his hand and gazes at the speckled ceiling, "Do you really dislike me that much?"
With his beautiful features so close to your face, how could you ever say no? "I never said that. It's important to know what your fate entails."
Your waitress comes over, placing down your eggs and toast, and putting pancakes in front of Chrollo.
"I just don't understand what you think is going to realistically happen in this situation." You take a bite of eggs and look at your reflection in your coffee.
He nods slowly, buttering his pancakes and pouring the small container of syrup on it. "I see." He takes a few bites before answering, "I suppose in time I will give you the choice to stay with me or not. While leaving does mean I will most likely take your nen ability, it will be your choice." He takes a sip of his black coffee, "I hope you stay with me as my girlfriend and not my captive."
Somehow it surprises you that he has such a grip on reality. He isn't living in delusion and understands the situation. His actions just made it seem otherwise, but something tells you he doesn't really mean what he says about giving you a choice. How could he let go the person he studied for so long before methodically kidnapping you. You agree that you would like to stay with him- but your grip on reality is a little stronger than his.
After consuming your breakfast, you lay back in the booth and he breaks the silence, "We will be leaving soon. We have another missions before the troupe disbands for a while. I will need your help on this one. After that I will let you make your choice."
What could he possibly need you for... "What's the mission?"
"If you really want to know, we will be robbing this continent's museum- it's one of the most valuable museum's in the world."
Somehow his face looks earnest, maybe he really will give you the choice to leave.
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nomanwalksalone · 4 years ago
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IN THE DRINK
by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans
My first legal drink was a vodka martini. Because I was naïve and impressionable, and those impressions were formed, of course, by James Bond - the most famous mixed drinker in the world, who made the vodka martini the most glamorous, if not the most famous, mixed drink: legendarily shaken, not stirred, with a twist. I had my first drinks prior to Bond’s heavily merchandised resurgence, so that he, his wardrobe, his drinks and their accoutrements were all at the time distinctly retro if not uncool. It was the age of Slacker. Rituals involving martini shakers seemed like unfamiliar anachronisms. In that way, perhaps they appealed the more for being so exotic.
Over the years, my tastes have matured. I prefer gin, not vodka, in my martinis; I find Bond fun, not cool, and can laugh at myself in recognizing how he influenced so much of what many of us middle-class kids originally thought was sophisticated or elegant. I still think he was right about the twist, even if I’m more likely to make it out of a lime rather than a lemon peel. I like olives, but not in my drinks. And until recently, I kept shaking my martinis despite knowing that purists say it “bruises” the gin. That is, shaking a drink made with clear or translucent liquids can make it cloudy (and supposedly dilute it with ice fragments crushed during shaking).  
It took the ineffable #menswear godhead @voxsartoria, my sartorial #schreibro, to help bring me around. As always, I also needed to get my hands on a sufficiently interesting tool to stop being one. I found it in the shape of a sterling silver-bamboo-handled cocktail spoon, a midcentury design by Van Day Truex for an American jeweler. My 1949 Esquire Handbook for Hosts reminds me to use it for drinks made entirely with spirits; those made with fruit juices, nonalcoholic mixers, or cloudy liquids can still be shaken (since the result would be opaque anyway). You’re supposed to use ice cubes in stirred drinks, crushed ice in shaken ones, but I tend to ignore that rule. And indeed, my stirred martinis do taste better – crisper and rather stronger, for better or worse, since less ice gets dissolved stirring instead of shaking. (Yes Isle, you have a standing invite. Ed. note - Invite accepted) I’ve read that stirred drinks are supposed to be colder than shaken ones, but surely that must depend on how long you stir before pouring.
The bamboo got me. I’m a sucker for those odd organic shapes like coral or bamboo, even when rendered in metal instead of the real whangee of John Steed’s umbrella. The piece was part of a broader collection. But today we’re a long way from midcentury, a long way from a world in which we could claim to have a lifestyle requiring, or affording, all the patterned utensils of a collection, from cocktail to demitasse. Instead, at best most of us can only hope to salvage what we need from history’s subduction. So many wonderful, glorious things eventually get pulled under never to reappear again. At least with this spoon, stirring seems less prosaic. And it’s long enough, if not to sup with the devil, then to drink with mine.
Between the shaker and the stirrer, and with a well-enough stocked bar, you can be prepared to mix just about any drink imaginable, as rattled off by Christopher Lee in one of cinema’s great moments, his musical number “Name Your Poison” in The Return of Captain Invincible. More often than not, mine is still the martini, here on a coaster with three-dimensional images based on Kota Ozawa’s LYAM 3D, an art installation with clips from Last Year at Marienbad. The spoon rests on bamboo hashioki finished with urushi lacquer. Deflating all pretension, however, the martini glass is an Iittala knockoff I got free with a bottle of vodka. We can’t escape ourselves, after all.
Quality content, like quality clothing, ages well. This article first appeared on the No Man blog in 2016.
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kabira · 4 years ago
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tagged by @taeyongtime to do the 'describe your bias using vibes' game! i'm so sorry i never do tags because i keep forgetting them :( but as long as this one is still on my mind ;; (i'm ot21 for nct but ig i'll just do the ones that come to my mind first) i stan too many peeps so i'll just do some boy groups lol.
tagging: @jaextapose @amourpcy and whoever else wants to do it !! (i am pitiful and friendless lmao)
vernon is finding the perfect song for the perfect mood, head bopping, dancing really close but never quite touching. not having the courage to flirt so smiling with your eyes instead, tuning a guitar in the back of an empty garage, being comfortable in your own skin. old jeans and new sweatpants and shared hoodies. zoning out. retro, vinyl, timeless music, mustard and maple and wooden walls. shy but loud smiles, cheek kisses when you least expect them. taking everything in stride. fitting in the last piece of a puzzle. the sturdy rock in the middle of a rough sea. a perfect fit.
taeyong is standing in a candy store and having hours to pick out your favorites, sticky fingers and nose bumping and giggles. shades of pink and pale pastels. strawberry jam and plushies, holding the back of someone's neck when you kiss them, wrapping up in blankets like a burrito, creaking floorboards in a quiet attic and the quaint little café down the street. absolute faith. being ready to sacrifice anything for the one you love.
minho/lee know is knowing smiles, quiet support, little quips when you pass someone on the way to the kitchen. witty remarks, making fun of people together, leaning your head against the crook of their neck. secret winks, cat ear headbands, scarves, colors of autumn and mute blues and gray hues. unassuming wisdom. nipping teeth. eye rolling. refusing to hold hands, but brushing your knuckles against the other's anyway. always being there, whether to help or provide fond, snarky remarks.
taehyung is playing with fingers. low leather couches and expensive clothes, drawstring trousers and plain colors, stark blues and white and beige and brown. watchful eyes. curling hair, paint-splattered hands and t-shirts. slow, sensual movements. knowing exactly what you're doing when you bite your lip. slow smiles. languorous kisses. brushing your lips against earlobes and jawlines. the smell of coffee brew. pizza, surprisingly. loyalty. an ache of freedom in your chest. independence, unpretentious art. nostalgia.
baekhyun is sly winks, big grins, living loud and happy. pulling someone up to dance to an rnb tune in the kitchen, honeyed voices and fluttering kisses along your cheekbone. growing up but never losing that childish streak. watching the city move at night. meeting an enigmatic stranger in a bar. sharing hidden places. cargo pants and ringless hands. afterglow. caring looks, being obvious on purpose. obnoxious laughs. never shying away from adventure. sunroofs and closing your eyes. blind trust.
mark lee is video games and nacho-stained hands and wide eyes. the sparkle of something new, biting your lip in excitement. being unable to hold in your laughter. customized headphones, whooping, seeing good in everyone, trying to act aloof and failing. pretending to be brave during horror movies. tiptoeing at night. slipping into bed and spooning under the covers. tip of the nose against nape of the neck. blowing on your hands to keep them warm. forehead kisses and reassurances even when you're scared. honesty.
yangyang is playfulness and kittenish touches, curling your fingers in air and rolling over like a puppy, impromptu dance breaks when hearing a new song and freestyling to random things. stupid pranks and baking bad cookies. licking the frosting off the cake. scooping up big chunks of ice cream. stealing food. explosive moods, neon lights, a wave of euphoria at the strangest moments. pure, unadulterated adoration, and maybe a little puppy love.
kang taehyun is groaning to hide a smile, burying your head in a book, not knowing how to react to a joke. perfect calm, absent-mindedly brushing hair away from their forehead, making sense. being the only one who's not onboard with the plan but getting roped in anyway, road trips and starry skies and letting out a woah when you see a beautiful painting. quiet but supportive. knowing the ins and outs of someone. being impatient but waiting anyway. being the smart one but not knowing how to initiate a kiss. then kissing you anyway.
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