this episode of game changer has been the best so far at also making ME feel like I'm also going insane.

Skz reaction to accidentally seeing a sext from one of their members s/o

note: this was inspired by one of @lavenderbexlatte 's posts

includes- sub!Stray Kids, dom!f!reader, strap on, pegging, lingerie, pet names

if you like my works please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bang Chan

He had only wanted to get back at Felix for the many times he stole his phone when unfortunate timing made a picture of you in a sexy lingerie piece pop up on screen.

Y/N: Don’t forget about me while you’re practicing 😉

He quickly shuts off the phone, handing it back to Felix and apologizing for having taken it. He tries to forget about the photo, watching porn and jerking off in the shower, but your body always comes back on his mind. He cums into his hand, moaning your name, quickly turning the power of the shower hose up to drown out the sounds.

He couldn’t look you in the eye for a month after the incident, worried he would undress you with his eyes.

Felix finally confronts him about his weird behaviour, since he used to be very good friends with you.

“Yeah, she can have that affect on you.”, Felix laughs when Chan admits to what had happened and how the image didn’t want to leave his head, “maybe you should join us sometime so you can see how much more beautiful she is in real life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minho

Jisung’s phone kept buzzing while Minho was trying to sleep, he tried to call for Sung to turn off his damn phone but to no effect. Getting up to take matters into his own hands, he picks up the phone to see who was texting him at such an early hour.

Noona: *dick pic*

Noona: How about this one?

Opening the quick answer function, he starts to type “you guys are weird…” when a thought comes to his mind. He deletes what he wrote, shutting the phone off like he was planning to, before taking out his own device. He searches for that secret picture he took last week, pressing send in your chat with a smirk across his face.

Minho: How about this one?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Changbin

Hyunjin was practicing a new choreo and had asked Chang to record him with his phone when a message popped up at the top of the screen. He tried to brush the pop-up window away but accidently opened the message instead.

He was greeted by a video clip of you stroking what looked like a silicone dick, strapped to your body. He was so enthralled by the visual, trying to figure out what you were grabbing onto, that he didn’t notice Hyunjin finishing the dance and walking towards him to take back his phone.

As soon as Hyunjin’s eyes fell upon the screen his face turned beat red, slapping the phone out of his hyung’s hand.

“What is that?”, Changbin’s genuine confusion was too cute, making Hyunjin proud that he seemed to be more mature than his hyung.

“Oh, just my dinner”, he winks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin

Never in a million years did he expect to see his hyung get fucked.

It was a simple mistake, he had taken the wrong phone home after a concert, but by the time he realised what he had done it was already too late.

He had saved his finger recognition in Minho’s phone before, more as a joke, but now that he had easily opened the phone, looking at the recent messages to see a video of Minho bent over a bed, getting fucked by his girlfriend, the reality hit him like a truck.

There was no way he could explain to Minho what had happened without getting his head chopped off, so he decided to lie.

“I accidentally took your phone instead of mine, but I realised my mistake instantly and came here to give it back to you.”

His arms were shaking as he handed back the phone, making Minho raise an eyebrow but he just quickly ran away, trying to delete the mental image as best as he could. But Minho wasn’t the only one that would remember the ‘Memories of last night’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung

Mommy: How’s my Babyboy doing? If you come home for dinner, I’ll let you eat me for dessert.

The messages flickered on the screen, Jeongin’s phone resting on the table during one of their lives. Jisung quickly takes the phone, putting it in the maknaes Hoodie pocket so the viewers wouldn’t get the shock of their life’s. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised; he had once walked in on Jeongin masturbating in the shower, moaning out your title. If anything, he was a little jealous.

“You need to be more careful where you place your phone”, was all he said he to Jeongin after the live, trying to suppress a laugh as the maknae’s eyes shot wide open when he saw his recent messages.

“You- did you-…”

“Did I see your girlfriend sexting you? Nah, but you might want to hurry home 😉”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felix

He had asked Chan for sex advice before, not wanting to mess up his first time, so he knew that his hyung wasn’t an innocent angel. But what he was greeted with on Chan’s screen when he stole his phone was different from anything they had ever talked about.

The older boy was tied to the bed, his legs pushed to his chest as his girlfriend was gliding a toy into him.

Felix could feel himself getting hard at the mere sight, one hand coming down to his ass to duplicate the feeling his hyung must’ve felt. He kept pressing play on the short video, needing to see it again and again.

He felt disgusted with himself that he was doing something so naughty and all behind his hyung’s back, but he couldn’t help the growing desire to be put in Chan’s place.

After handing back the phone, he patiently waited in the living room until Chan’s girlfriend came over later that day. Counting down in his head he made his way over to Chan’s room, bursting in in hopes of catching them in the middle of the act.

And so, a long night had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin

He dropped Changbin’s phone as quickly as he had picked it up, hands shooting up to his face to cover his blushing cheeks.

As Changbin walks back out of the bathroom, drying his hands against his jeans, he notices the curled-up figure that was hiding it’s face in shame.

“Uhm, Is everything okay Seungmin?”

But the younger boy quickly shakes his head, turning so it looked like he was getting swallowed by the couch.

A loud sigh makes Seungmin shiver in fear.

“Did you steal my phone again?”

Changbin had seen the seductive picture you had sent, putting together the puzzle’s pieces on why his usually chipper bandmate suddenly felt shy in front of him.

“At least you learned your lesson…” and with that he turned and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeongin

Jealousy was the only thing that tainted his mind as your messages popped up on Seungmin’s screen. He had stolen the older boy’s phone to set a quirky selfie of himself as the background, when curiosity made him the messenger app.

Just a quick look, was what he had promised himself, but your seductive messages glued his eyes to the screen, unable to finish his original task.

Y/N: Is you tail still in place? You must’ve been blushing so hard during practice, having the tiny toy stretch you out in front of your unsuspecting bandmates.

Staring at Seungmin’s ass for the rest of the day his mouth was watering with drool, why couldn’t he be someone’s good puppy?!

Y/N: Be a good puppy and send me a picture of your pretty tail.

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masterlist

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taglist:  @vanillaknj, @mingiibabieee, @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @soya-zz, @coeurbreak, @mellowriting, @submissive-bangtan

Like a ticking clock (Seongwha)

Title: Like a ticking clock

Paring: Reader x Seongwha (ATEEZ)

Genre: Fluff, spice, slight angst but with a happy ending.

Word count: 2267

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: @junquisite requested this from a Soulmates prompt. Letter T (Timer) soulmate AU with Seongwha. :D

The bell rang, jolting Seongwha from his daydream. The sound of the bell making him stop tracing patterns on his wrist. He sighed with relief that the day was finally over and he could go home. As he was putting away his books for the day he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, making him glance to see who it was.

"You were rubbing your wrist again during class." His best friend said as she sat down in the chair opposite of him, Her long hair swooping over her shoulders and dancing along her backpack that she had placed on her lap as she stared intently at him.

Seongwha smiled shyly at her. Not sure what to say. "I can't help it. Ever since mine broke I have the weird feeling that I'm missing something. Even though I'm not really."

The thing that he was referring to was a small band about an inch wide with a small screen with dimly lit letters slayed across it. It wasn't a watch, it was nowhere near that simple. It was a countdown to meeting your soulmate.

It was something almost all young adults got by the time they were 13 years of age. Getting this soulmate watch, called Shadow, was the thing the world over agreed would lead to true happiness in people's love lives. Which did work, the divorce rates plummeted after Shadow was released. The cases of domestic abuse even went down. Because Shadow was designed to make people happy and find the one people were truly meant to be with.

Seongwha remembered going to the Shadow company with his parents when he was 13 to get his Shadow activated. Getting a Shadow was a choice made by all parents. But 95% of the worlds population had a Shadow. So his parents were one of those that decided to get him a Shadow. He didn't much care for knowing when he would meet his soulmate, but he went along for his parents. When it was placed on his wrist and the small screen glowed with life it read him his time.

9 years, 15 hours, 65 seconds

His mother glowed with excitement for him. He didn't quite know what to think of it. But he felt a small spark of joy light in his chest. That's why when he was 15 and he accidently broke his Shadow, he felt a strange sense of loss. His parents said they could replace it. But Seongwha didn't want to do that quite yet. Because he was unsure if he wanted to know if he even still had a soulmate now that he was in his last two months of high school. But ever since that day, he always rubbed his wrist. Reaching for the soft feel of the silicone band but never finding it there.

"You can just always get a new one, Seong." His best friend said softly, jolting him from his thoughts.

"I know I can." He said, standing up to throw his pack over his shoulder. "But you're one to talk about getting a Shadow, miss rebellious."

She smiled at his wit as they walked down the hall to the exit. "Some of us don't want a small device to tell us who we should be with."

Seongwha chuckled at her classic stubbornness. She was one of the few that never got a Shadow. Her parents had decided against it. And since it wasn't law that you were supposed to have a Shadow, she never had one. She swore she was happy without it. Which is something Seongwha admired about her a lot when they met when they were 11.

"Are we hanging out at my place later tonight?" She asked him, making him meet her eyes.

"Are we watching another horror film?" He whined, knowing how much she loved the classic horror movies. Especially the black and white films.

"No, its your turn to pick a movie tonight." She sassed back, playfully nudging his ribs with her elbow.

Seongwha let out a laugh. "I'll see you at 8 then?"

8:00 on Friday's being their stay up all night and watch movies routine since they were 16.

"See you then." She said cheerfully as they parted ways.

``````````

4 years later;

"Seongwha, we are not watching that movie again."

"Why not?" He argued. "It's a good movie."

She shoots him a glare as she slumps onto his couch in his studio apartment. "You have picked that movie nearly every time on Friday nights since High School."

"And you have an obsession with black and white horror films and insist on picking them every time its your turn to pick." Seongwha shoots back.

"It is not an obsession!" She says as she throws a pillow at him, making him laugh.

"Fine, we'll both pick a new movie this time." He said, caving into her wishes. There was no point in arguing over it now after they had kept up their movie night ritual for years.

She smiled at him as he sat down on the couch beside her. Both of them going through their options of new movies and shows to start. They finally settled on a newer romantic movie and settled in to watch it. Her head rested on his shoulder like it almost always did. Their physical closeness nothing new to either one of them. It was comforting to them. As the movie progressed, Seongwha felt his fingers trace the spot of where his Shadow used to be. He still kept a mental timer of when he was supposed to meet his soulmate. But this was the year it was supposed to happen, and the year was half over and nothing had happened to him. And he had no way of knowing who it was or when they would enter his life.

Seongwha let out a sigh and let his hand fall away from tracing his wrist. He forced his attention back on the characters playing out on the screen. As he scooted down further into the couch, her head remained on his shoulder. Making him rest his head against hers with a content sigh. Even if he didn't have a soulmate, he knew he could always rely on her to be there.

The movie hit its climax for the couple on the screen. Leading to a passionate kissing scene between the two. Seongwha felt her tense beside him, knowing she got uncomfortable with these types of scenes. But his heartbeat went up when he fingers traced his wrist where his Shadow used to be. Her touches felt different in that moment somehow.

Heat coursed through him as she lifted her head slowly to meet his eyes. Their gaze lasting much longer than normal. Seongwha's eyes darted from her eyes to her mouth, unsure what to do. He had always viewed them as just friends. But in that moment he felt very differently.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by her lips crashing against his. He froze beneath her touch, his lips unwilling to move. But then as if by second nature his lips enclosed hers and his eyes drifted shut, letting every touch soak in completely. His hands drifted until he found her thighs and brought her onto his lap. Her hands sliding from his chest up to weave through his hair.

Seongwha placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her even closer to him, suddenly unable to get her close enough to him. He let his tongue run against hers, making her sigh out into his mouth and a rush of adrenaline course through his veins like fire.

She pressed her body closer to his, her teeth biting his lower lip until he could feel it had swollen slightly. His hands shook slightly as they found their way under her shirt, making her tense to his tracings down her spine.

She pulled away from his mouth only slightly to whisper, ''Can we take this to your room?" She asked between labored breaths.

Seongwha felt the words form in his throat, he could feel his arms carry her back to his room. But the words never left his mouth and the actions never followed through.

"I… we can't." He whispered, pulling his hands out from under her shirt.

She met his eyes, hurt and confusion lacing them. "Why?"

"Because… what if we aren't soulmates?" He asked quietly.

You didn't have to listen to what Shadow said about meeting your soulmate. Some never met their soulmate due to them passing away. That left them with the choice of going with someone that wasn't your soulmate, or never trying to replace the love you dreamed of getting from the one that was supposed to be made for you.

But Seongwha had seen it happen before. He had seen where two people fell in love that weren't soulmates. And it might have worked for awhile or right at first. But nothing hurts worse than one day seeing your real soulmate on the street and having the burning thought that you could've made all the right memories with that one. And from their any founded relationship rarely lasts.

She slides off his lap, sitting beside him. Her lips swollen and her eyes brimming with tears. "So you're saying you can’t be with me because you don't think we're meant to be together?"

Seongwha shook his head, trying to take her hands in his but only to have her shrink away from him.

"No, no, no that isn't what I'm saying. I'm just saying that I remember this was supposed to be the year I found my soulmate. And I can't put you through the pain of getting attached to me only to see who was really meant to be with me walk into my life."

She shook her head, tears starting to streak down her cheeks. "You have obsessed over that stupid device since we were kids, Seongwha. And I have loved you since we were 15. But maybe you're right. If you're so obsessed over finding your soulmate then, fine. Maybe we just need to call this off right now."

She stood to leave, quickly going to the door to put on her shoes and coat. Seongwha quickly stood up, his own heart beginning to ache and throb.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." He snapped. "I don't want to hurt you. A soulmate can be a close friend but it rarely ever works out that way. And I never knew a kiss could mean as much to me as yours just did but I just don't want to hurt you later."

She opened the door and sighed, looking at him through bleary eyes. "Just save it." She whispered brokenly before shutting the door behind her. Leaving Seongwha in the dark.

A few days passed and they did manage to talk things out some. But things were awkward and they couldn't get around it. That's why when she got a job offer on the other side of the world Seongwha felt it was wrong to stop her from going. Wrong to stop her from being happy.

``````

2 years later;

Seongwha walked through the park with a mass of butterflies swirling in his stomach. He placed his fingers on his right wrist again to feel the soft silicone pressed against his skin. He had bought a new Shadow a year ago. He expected not to have a soulmate anymore since the year he was supposed to have one came and went. But that wasn't the case. It ticked and ticked until it got to this day. A day he was anxious for.

But nothing could have prepared him for the person he saw in the park. Standing by the railings over looking the river was his first kiss, his best friend, and now, with how his Shadow was blinking rapidly with a red heart dancing on the screen and how she looked down at her watch to see it doing the same, he knew she was going to be a lot more than all those things in the future.

When their eyes met across the small space between them, their eyes filled with tears. And Seongwha didn't fight it when she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Her familiar scent filling his nose and soothing him.

"You got a Shadow after all." He lightly teased, his head still buried in her neck.

She let out a watery chuckle. "Because I got curious. And I always hoped it would be you on the other side of all this. Because I have missed you so much and I am so sorry about--"

Seongwha silenced her by taking her face in his hands and attaching his lips to hers. Joy sparking in his chest. She melted into his touch, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Slowly, Seongwha pulled away, smiling down at her as their noses brushed each other. "I missed you too." He whispered, making his smile up at him.

The Sol Account Chapter 2: Sapphire Spiders

The motion sensor alert dragged Emily out of her sleep. Her internal clock claimed it had been 4 hours since she’d drifted into sleep while maintaining her body. The silicone nanotech skin of her left arm still pulled back to reveal the honeycomb paneling holding it up and the sticky ball joint that had been messing with her for the past week. That and all the other mechanical issues her body experienced. There were not many reliable parts in the atomic hellscape that now stretches between Toronto and Florida. Her sonar equipment was on before she was even awake, one animate target. Weight and height estimates put it well outside of human limits and wildly outside of even the Architect's largest personal exoskeletons. She locked all motors and forced sleep breathing, whatever this was she wanted the element of surprise. The thermal scanners were online within moments. There was a large crystalline mass in the shape of a vaguely humanoid creature with four arms and a lower half somewhere between an arachnid thorax and lobster body with eight arachnid legs. It was currently rustling through a backpack fitted to it’s bizarre physiology. Emily had expected another human to be bunking with her but didn’t care much. At least she wasn’t at risk this time. She reactivated her motors and chose to greet them while she continued work on her arm.

“Nice to meet you”

The creature jolted backwards at the comment and hurriedly chittered into their translator, which began speaking in an even british accent. “I could have sworn you were a statue!”

Emily carefully re-laid a wire that was nearly caught in her joint and affixed it with electrical tape. “Nope, just mostly metal, well, now that I think of it a better descriptor would be a small bag of meat piloting a metal statue, it’s a weird situation. Anyways, I'm guessing you’re my roommate?”

The creature tilted it’s almost canine head backed by a cobra-esque hood. Five compound eyes shimmering on either side as it’s mandibles spoke with a sound like hundreds of glass bottles vibrating against each other. “I believe so, but is the Terran word for such a concept not bunkmates?”

She set her tools aside for a moment and turned to the creature while pondering the question. “Kinda, we’re good at making useless distinctions. Though something you absolutely should know, this isn’t ‘Terran’, we’ve got too many languages to declare one as definitive, we call this English. Anyways, I’m Emily”

“I’m T’Throuk’tnaurtuk- wait that’s not right, uh, let me see what’s wrong with this thing,” The creature began fiddling with the device. The three digits on three of its forelimbs rapidly ricocheting off the display on one side of the titanium trapezoid before lifting the edge to its mouth once more and speaking. “I’m Arthur, well, that’s the closest name that won’t be impossible to speak. I could have sworn I had set this thing to shoot for cultural and rarity replication, but it appears I had been mistaken,”

“Nice to meet you Arthur, I must say your physiology is strange, is your body composed of crystals?”

“Yes, Aluminum and Phosphorus silicate oxides to be exact. Though I would prefer if you avoided the term ‘Lithoid’. It was accurate by technicality but now it’s just used by meat people like the less savory of the Architects to insult anyone who runs on silicates. My species, the Tourazi, or Cavers if that rolls of the mandibles better, prefer the terms crystalide or gemoid,” Arthur began rummaging through the pack once more, Idly decorating their bed space. Adorning the corners with glowing maroon crystals and paper thin sheets of crystal that had been, cut, scored with lettering, and bound into books.

“Oof, a biochemistry slur, I’ll be sure to avoid that then. What are you here for?” Emily carefully pried a piece of debris from between the joint’s mechanisms. It instantly went from borderline arthritic to moving perfectly.

Arthur’s response came carefully and laden with worry. “You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was a literary nerd hired to itemize your civilization’s best works would you?”

“Eh, I’ve seen weirder, last week I was walking through a glowing swamp and fighting crocodile shark hybrids. A crystal covered alien literature nerd is nothing.” Emily swiftly knitted the honeycomb paneling of her forearm back together and began using the nanotech binder to do the same to her skin.

“Wonderful, you’re the first person I’ve told who hasn’t laughed in my face and asked if I was a mercenary”

Emily grimaced and began piling her tools back into their bag. “Sorry, most Terrans suck at keeping an open mind. I tried to make sure everyone I brought up here was as open minded as possible, but I didn’t have much time and some of the ones who were nearly perfect for coming up here first weren’t okay with me specifically leading. Tried to have me killed or, just tried kill me themselves,”

Arthur recoiled, their crystalline body flickering through several distinct glowing shockwaves of confusion and horror. “What!? Why? What could you have possibly done to prompt such aggressions?”

“I’m what my species calls transgender, what I wanted to be physically and socially was different from my sex at birth. It’s part of the reason I replaced everything I could with machines, and despite a lot of people being open minded everywhere else, people like me just don’t fit in to their opinions on the world around them. And they lash out because they made those opinions part of themselves. By not fitting their opinions I became a personal attack. The people I could take were at worst not actively aggressive about it,”

Arthur shimmered a puzzled purple as they laid down across their bed, curling their legs into their thorax and rolling themselves to lay face up. “I see, an unfortunate fate for sure, to become so wrapped around one’s own misunderstandings as to forget where you end and they begin. I’m sorry for my lack of awareness, my species doesn’t have much dimorphism and our bodies are all compatible for transplantation, so while we have similar concepts they resolve quite easily. I myself would probably be considered phenotypically male, though I doubt the concept translates quite as well,”

Emily pivoted herself upwards into the open top bunk with her empty hand. Carefully stowing the tool bag before laying down. “Understandable, there are too many ways for a species to work for such ideas to match up. Thanks for the interesting talk Arthur,”

Silicone casting for stop motion: obscure tips

Even with books and the internet I found it surprisingly tricky to find actual detailed information on casting silicone specifically for stop motion puppets.  There’s a lot of word-of-mouth-only stuff and weird little issues to trip you up, and there’s plenty of useful tricks that I only stumbled on in obscure comments sections, vague offhand references or through what little experience I’ve gained.

Point is, here’s an incomplete list of some of the little things I found useful that never seem to be in one damn place.  I’m still very much figuring this out myself, so if some of these are more obvious or strange than others don’t laugh too hard.  Hopefully somebody’ll find them useful (taken with a hefty pinch of salt).

Even with soft, deadened silicone, the thinner it is the better, so every joint in the armature should be packed out fully with soft sponge-y upholstery foam beforehand

It’s better to take a big block of this foam, punch a hole in the middle and slide it over the joint like a sleeve - before attaching the other end if necessary - than to try gluing or sewing two halves back together

If you make a maquette around the final armature, which already has neatly-carved foam on it, trace around the thing on a piece of paper so you’ve got a reference for the shape and size it’s meant to be - when you sculpt NSP clay on top the foam will squish and it’ll be otherwise impossible to tell if you’re laying it on too thick or unfaithfully

When casting silicone around an armature covered in spongy foam, seal the foam first with a thin layer of silicone and allow it to cure outside the mould so the final ‘flood’ of rubber doesn’t just soak in and solidify the joint

Also do this to stop air bubbles getting trapped in the silicone and moving throughout the cast when you pour on it

If the brush you paint this on with is too stiff the silicone will get pressed into the sponge instead of sitting on top like a thin film.  I usually spread it like butter using a flat tool eg. a lollipop stick

Put texture/hatching/lumps and holes on the armature’s solid bones to get as much mechanical grip with the silicone as possible, since it doesn’t properly stick to anything but itself

Joints work better with big, defined creases in them and very stiff hinges/wiring to counteract the silicone’s natural springiness

If mixing silicone in a plastic cup, make sure it’s not full of static electricity or everything you pour in it will fly around and stick halfway up the sides, which is all kinds of a pain in the arse

To get all the silicone casts tinted the exact same colour, tint an entire batch of Part A (ie. set all you're planning on using aside in a good sealed container, like a jam jar) with the pigment then use bits of that same batch for all casting and patching

If possible, brush on a thin backfill layer inside the mould before flooding or adding the armature, and allow to cure to a level of tackiness before mixing up and adding the rest of the silicone - this both prevents ugly air bubbles rising to the surface of the cast and stops the armature from poking through

Flip the mould over now and again while the backfill cures or it’ll all just pool at the bottom

If the backfill skin you’ve just done is too thick, or the silicone’s supposed to be very thin around the armature, start mixing up the flooding batch pretty much immediately after applying the backfill, so when you pour it it’s tacky enough that the armature can sink in a little to the outer skin if pressed by the mould halves

For god’s sake don’t forget the clamps

You’ll thank yourself later for winding the clamps to the right distance to fit around the mould before you’ve filled it and it’s slowly seeping out onto the tabletop

Coloured silicone can be backfilled into tiny spaces with a syringe for little details

You don’t technically need to put release agent - like Vaseline - in a plaster mould when casting silicone in it, but sometimes it makes life a little bit easier.  And if you’re using a plaster mould, it’ll chip and break and crumble away details more quickly without it, so it’s worth using

No ordinary paint will stick properly to silicone (but if it’s a solid unmoving piece of the model and you’re both careful and lazy, you might get away with a couple of little details)

You can add minor shading and weathering with powders like chalk and charcoal if you need to

If adding this before the silicone’s been cast (the easiest way IMO) you can draw on the inside of the mould with, for example, a charcoal pencil, and it’ll be set in the surface of the cast afterwards

If adding it after the silicone’s done, you can apparently grind the chalk into powder, mixing colours to taste, then apply it to the silicone surface with a brush.  Then you seal it in by airbrushing on a thin, clear solution of cheap silicone (eg. sealant) mixed with lighter fluid (I think).  I have not tried this one.

I was suspicious, but it turns out filling both halves of a mould with silicone, adding the armature and then just sandwiching them together is a totally normal and legitimate way of casting that doesn’t somehow give you a ton of trapped air bubbles.  Injection moulding seems much trickier, if cooler-looking

Exposed K&S tubes at the end of extremities are an extremely useful way to float an armature in the centre of a mould without it sinking into the silicone - if you don’t have any solid bits like that I hear pins can be used to support the armature, if you fill the holes afterwards

When repairing patchy bits of silicone by applying more to the surface of a piece, you can secure something a little rough (tissue, gauze, tape, etc.) on top while it’s curing so it ends up with a fine matte texture.  Alternatively just sprinkle a healthy coating of cornflour or talc over the whole thing, then wash it off when it’s done (this is easier IMO and gives a smoother, clean finish).  Left to its own devices outside a mould silicone always ends up with an ugly liquid gloss

When seaming, trim off as much as you can with small scissors then apply Vaseline to the cast before filing the seam lines away with an emery board or a dremel’s stone tool.  The idea is that the Vaseline acts as a lubricant to stop the tools snagging on the silicone and tearing it up (I’ve heard lighter fluid works for this too, though I didn’t have much luck with it)

Alternatively you can cut a small trench into the seam area and patch it up with more silicone afterwards, which may be a little smoother.  Personally I found this gave a nicer finish, but beware peeling patch edges.

If your silicone’s still tacky or jelly-ish after the recommended 45 minutes, don’t immediately panic.

If it’s still like that after another two hours, then yeah, sure, maybe it’s time to panic

A decent estimate of how much silicone you’ll need to fill a mould is to weigh the clay you stripped from the maquette, then add 15% or so for safety.  Obviously this isn’t at all precise given clay and silicone have different densities, but I find it pretty useful

Make sure to write down how much silicone you’re going to need - the scales won’t tell you much Part A you put in after the cup’s got pigment and a lolly stick sitting in it too

A few grams will always stay in the cup no matter how hard you try to scrape it all out, so compensate

And for good measure here’s where I bought materials when I ordered them online (I’m based in Scotland btw):

Crystacal R plaster (more durable and detailed than normal stuff)

Mouldlife silicone pigments

Dragon Skin FX-Pro platinum silicone (1kg)

Also here’s some other useful links:

The How And Why Of Silicone (Part 1)

Misadventures in Mouldmaking

Making silicone puppet - Stopmotionanimation.com forum

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Kissing Solves Everything (an AOS one shot fic)

This little fic is based on a prompt from a prompt sheet I posted earlier this weekend. I wrote it for the lovely and beautiful @blue-cat-lady ! I really hope you like it! <3 It was SO MUCH FUN to write! I will never, ever, ever get tired of writing about the Space Boyfriends and their crazy space escapades. :,D

         “Listen, if you kiss me right now, they’ll probably attack us.” Jim kept his voice low. Beside him, Spock stood perfectly still, one hand on Jim’s wrist. Through their bond, Jim felt his t’hy’la’s surprise woven through the lingering threads of mingled desire and contentment.

         All around them, silent, silver-skinned humanoids armed with what appeared to be super-heated plasma projectile weapons crouched, twenty fingers on twenty triggers. They’d appeared out of nowhere, emerging from the rocky landscape like spiders sensing a disturbance in their web. Thankfully, Jim thought, they’d arrived before he and Spock had gotten any further along in what had been a particularly steamy mental make-out session. Jim still had his shirt on, which was both fortunate and unusual given the circumstances. The aliens had arrived just before things got physical.  

         Jim wondered if Spock could read his disappointment through the bond.

         “Jim,” said Spock, speaking in a soft, non-threatening tone. There was no telling what could set these aliens off; better safe than sorry. “I believe they are V’rachis, a rare and reclusive sub-species of silicon-based lifeforms known to inhabit five of the seven habitable planets in the Kepler-5 system.”

         Jim glanced at Spock. He swallowed, struggling against the growing urge to reach for his phaser. Escalating the situation would get them nowhere. Nowhere, or dead. “Where’d they come from?” he asked, bemused.

         Spock’s grip on Jim’s wrist tightened almost imperceptibly. “I do not know, Jim. It is possible that, given the abundance of silicon present on this planet’s surface, the V’rachis are able to camouflage themselves by blending or merging visually or physically with their surroundings.”

         Jim nodded. He straightened up a little, lifting his head. He faced the silent, watchful aliens. “My name is Captain James Tiberius Kirk.” He kept his voice neutral, steady. “We’re with the United Federation of Planets; we’re here on shore leave. We mean you no harm.” There was a one-in-a-billion chance that even one among these creatures understood him. But with any luck, if they were an advanced enough species (and it seemed that they were; they had plasma weapons, after all) they may have invented translation devices similar to those used by Starfleet.

         The alien closest to Spock and Jim stood up. He kept his weapon trained on them, but the shift in his posture from tense and rigid to soft and relaxed was a definite improvement. Hopefully, he’d understood what Jim had said. Or had at least been able to read the essential message of non-hostility in his tone.

         Jim felt a spike of anxiety flash through the bond. He glanced at Spock; Spock’s face was, as usual, entirely unreadable. Or it would be for anyone else; Jim, however, noticed the slight shift in the set of Spock’s mouth, and the growing apprehension in his eyes.

         Spock. He sent his thoughts through the bond, concentrating on the point where Spock’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist. What’s up?

         Spock raised an eyebrow. Jim had the distinct feeling he was contemplating Jim’s use of colloquial speech and deciding whether to comment on it. The Varachos seem to be using a limited form of telepathic communication. Spock’s voice was inside Jim’s head, filling his mindscape with beautiful, cool, swirling colors. Jim hardly registered what Spock was saying—he was too busy reveling in the unique and thrilling sensation of their consciousnesses touching. But then the reality of what he’d just heard sunk in, and he frowned.

         Wait, they can read minds? You think you can communicate with them, then?

         Spock’s hand moved down Jim’s wrist. Their fingers twined, electric sparks racing down the glowing, invisible string of their bond. In his mind’s eyes, Jim watched the bright yellows and reds of his own chaotic consciousness mixing with the luminescent, breathtaking blues and greens of Spock’s logical one. I believe they have already breached your mental barriers, Jim. That is why their commander has decided against attacking us. He is, as Terrans might say, ‘reading your mind.’

         Ah, Jim thought. Well, that explained Spock’s concern. It wasn’t that they were about to be assaulted by an unfriendly gang of aliens with plasma guns. It was that these silicon creatures had decided to intrude into Jim’s mind, a place that, as far as both Spock and Jim were concerned, was private property. Ever since they’d established the bond in the first place, nearly six months before, Spock had been attempting (mostly in vain) to teach Jim how to protect his mindscape from possible intruders. After all, Vulcans weren’t the only tele-empathetic race in the galaxy. And they were by far the politest, or so Spock had informed Jim.

         The weird thing, Jim found himself thinking, was that he had had no idea these strange aliens were getting inside his head at all. He hadn’t felt it happen. He hadn’t noticed anything was off and wouldn’t have if Spock hadn’t been there to tell him so.

         Which begged the question: how many times had Jim encountered a species that, on the surface, seemed friendly and/or reserved, but had in reality been reading his thoughts, emotions, and intentions all along?

         Spock shifted beside Jim; he felt another surge of mistrust and apprehension spike through their bond. Jim, Spock said, still speaking inside Jim’s mind, you must strengthen your barriers and clear your mind. Now that they know who we are, it is possible that the V’rachis will attempt to view personal and confidential information stored in your conscious and subconscious memory.

         Well, Jim thought. That’s not good.

         It is not. I am now attempting to extend my own protection through the bond, Spock continued. As he spoke, flashes of vivid color rose up around Jim’s thoughts, shielding them in a bubble of ocean blue. I am not sure how long it will hold. I have never tried this with anyone else before.

         Is that right? Well, I’m honored to be your first! Jim colored his thoughts with the mental equivalent of a smirk. Then he sobered, remembering the critical and delicate nature of their situation. How long do we have?

         Before Spock could answer, the commander of the V’rachis lowered his weapon. He tilted his head, looking from Jim to Spock with narrowed eyes. His eyes were smooth and pupil-less, polished ovals of obsidian set in his rock-like silver skin. He showed his teeth, letting out a sound somewhere between a snarl and a sigh. Jim had the sinking feeling that this strange alien didn’t appreciate being kicked unceremonious out of the captain’s mind.

         Spock, how long? Jim repeated his question, trying not to let his growing apprehension seep into his thoughts.

         Given the strength of the V’rachis’ mental capabilities, even my defenses will not hold for long. Spock’s thoughts were colored with a faint, fluctuating white glow: a mark of intense concentration. Sparks of red and yellow twined with blue and silver-green. Their minds, already connected by the threads of the bond, twined tightly around each other like two strings in a thicker, stronger rope. Jim, you will have to build up your own defenses, or the V’rachis will access your memories before I can stop them.

         Spock, I can’t even tell when someone’s inside my head. How am I supposed to kick them out? Jim fought the urge to close his eyes. It was easier, he’d found, to concentrate on what was going on in his mind if he didn’t have any external visual stimuli to distract him. But given the situation (and the lurking possibility that breaking eye contact for a long period of time might be seen by this species as offensive) that just wasn’t an option.

         The V’rachis commander took a step toward them across the alien planet’s rocky terrain. He tilted his head, eyes shimmering as he sized them up. He stared at Jim for a long moment, then turned his unreadable eyes on Spock. Something close to a smile formed on his silver lips. He motioned to his nineteen companions with a quick sweep of his hand; they lowered their guns but remained crouched and ready.

         And that’s when Jim realized: by shifting his defenses and concentration onto Jim, Spock was likely leaving his own mind vulnerable to attack. Spock! He colored his thoughts with red: urgency. You have to protect yourself. The V’rachis commander, he’ll attack you while your defenses are down!

         Spock didn’t reply. Frustrated, Jim pulled his hand out of Spock’s. He turned to face his first officer, face set in a stubbornly determined expression. “Spock,” he said, this time out loud, “I can’t let you—”

         Before Jim could finish his declaration, Spock had stepped forward and taken both of his hands, their fingers intertwining. Instinctively, Jim pressed his body against Spock’s. And then they were kissing, both in the Vulcan and Terran sense of the word. For a long, white-hot moment, Jim’s mind went completely, entirely blank. He closed his eyes and let his emotions surge like tidal waves, crashing against the rugged shoreline of his consciousness.

         When the kiss ended, Jim was unsteady, drunk and high on the feelings racing through his blood like a forest on fire. Spock kept the contact between their hands. “Whoa.” Jim blinked a couple times, recalibrating his brain. “That was—”

         “Effective,” Spock finished for him, and yeah, that was definitely not was Jim was going to say.

         “I was gonna say ‘hot’.” Jim grinned at his t’hy’la.

         “The V’rachis,” Spock said, returning his attention to the barren, rocky landscape, “are disgusted by physical displays of affection between beings of different species. In their culture, it is considered extremely unlucky to have contact with anyone who has engaged in such an inter-planetary relationship.”

         Jim looked around. To his utter surprise, they were alone again. The V’rachis had disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared, fading back into the silicon hills. Confused and delighted, he turned to face Spock. “How the hell did you know that would work?” he asked, sending an accompanying jolt of I’m impressed! through the bond.

         Spock smiled faintly. Just enough that Jim could see. “Telepathic connections work both ways, Jim. While the V’rachis were distracted by their inability to access your mind, I slipped past their mental defenses and accessed their leader’s.”

         “God, I love you,” Jim said. “I really, really love you.” He grinned when Spock sent a sharp, vibrant jolt of joy through the bond in response.

         “And I you, Ashayam. Now may I suggest we find a more suitable place to continue our previous engagement?”

         Jim ran his thumb over the pulse point in Spock’s wrist, reveling in the steady, warm beat of his bondmate’s heart under his hand. He smirked at Spock’s proposal. “Hell yeah,” he agreed. “As long as it’s nowhere near Bones’ sick bay. He told me this morning that if he catches us making out in there while I’m supposed to be recovering one more goddamn time, Jim, I swear to God…”

         “I am quite aware of Dr. McCoy’s fondness for questioning your life choices, Jim.” There was a smile in Spock’s tone. “And for ‘empty’ threats. Which is why I have selected a much less hostile environment than his sick bay for us to enjoy the remainder of our shore leave together. There is an oasis two-point-three miles from here that is renowned for its tranquility and clandestine nature. I have heard crew members discuss it on several occasions.”

         Jim’s smirk grew. “Sounds great, Spock. Lead the way.”

         Together, they set out across the shiny silver surface of the alien planet, their hands touching and their minds entwined.

How Tony Hsieh Built Zappos - In His Own Words

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/how-tony-hsieh-built-zappos-in-his-own-words/

How Tony Hsieh Built Zappos - In His Own Words

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA – NOVEMBER 28: A tribute to tech entrepreneur Tony Hsieh is displayed on the … [] Fremont Street Experience attraction’s Viva Vision screen on November 28, 2020 in Las Vegas, Nevada. (Photo by Bryan Steffy/Getty Images)

Former Zappos CEO Tony Hsieh tragically died last week at age 46 from smoke inhalation in a Connecticut house fire. While questions remain about his death, I chose to celebrate his life by reading his bestselling, surprisingly compelling manga-style comic book memoir from 2010. It’s called Delivering Happiness: A Path to Profits, Passion and Purpose with illustrator Rob Ten Pas.

Hsieh led a quintessentially American Dream life of success and eccentricity. Being in the right place at the right time during the Silicon Valley Internet boom, his strangeness translated to a sometimes cultlike customer-centric culture at Zappos. He describes the mistakes he made – and how he pivoted quickly.

Born to Taiwanese immigrant parents in Illinois, Tony Hsieh grew up in California’s wine country near Sonoma. Like Warren Buffett, he caught the entrepreneurial bug early. During elementary school, he tried out a worm farm business, paper route, and garage sales. In middle-school, Tony started a mail-order button business that brought in $200 per month. “I think the biggest lesson I learned,” he writes, “was that it was possible to run a successful business by mail order without any face-to-face interaction.”

It would be a powerful lesson – and one that in Silicon Valley and Big Tech has had profoundly mixed results.

A standout student, he got into Harvard, where he co-managed the Quincy House Grill with his friend Sanjay. They experimented with the menu, making more pizzas because they were more profitable. His best customer was Alfred Lin – who he later found out was bringing the pizza back to his house and selling slices to his roommates to earn an even higher margin. “We ended up hiring him as our CFO and COO at Zappos,” Hsieh explained.

Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. After Harvard, he and Sanjay took jobs with Oracle back in the Bay Area during the height of Internet Mania. On weekends, they started experimenting with coding and built an early web ad platform called LinkExchange. They soon quit Oracle. Within months, a buyer offered them $1 million. They made a $2 million counteroffer that got turned down. Months later, Yahoo!’s Jerry Yang offered them $20 million – and they turned it down. Eventually Microsoft bought it for $265 million. Hsieh, bored with the company, turned down a bigger golden parachute to walk away early. “I had decided to stop chasing the money,” he said “and start chasing the passion.”

Hsieh and friends bought lofts next door in San Francisco, recreating the camaraderie of dorm culture. They started a small investment fund called Venture Frogs with Alfred Lin. One of their first pitches came from Nick Swinmurn: Shoesite.com, which became Zappos. Zappos – derived from zapatos – became the quintessential middleman, the “Amazon of shoes” selling other brands’ shoes with a focus on customer service. Venture Frogs loved Zappos but bigger VCs didn’t. So Venture Frogs – and Hsieh and Lin – went all-in on Zappos.

At this time, Hsieh started getting into rave culture and the acronym PLUR: Peace, Love, Unity and Respect. A woman told him: “Envision, create, and believe in your own universe.” Hsieh and Lin did just that with Zappos, putting in more of their own money to lead it through the dotcom bust, the ensuing recession, and 9/11.

Big mistake: “As an e-commerce company,” Hsieh wrote, “we should have considered warehousing to be our core competency from the very beginning.” Instead, Zappos outsourced their warehouse inventory to eLogistics, who did a poor job. Being unable to promptly fulfill orders nearly bankrupted Zappos – and Tony. “Outsourcing that to a third-party and trusting that they would care about our customers as much as we would was one of our biggest mistakes,” Hsieh recalled. “If we hadn’t reacted quickly, it would have destroyed Zappos.”

Sales rebounded, but they soon faced another big decision. “Our strategy of combining inventoried product with drop-shipped product continued to drive our sales growth,” he explained. Problem was, at least 5% of drop-shipped shoes never made it to the customer. They got refunds but mostly walked away unsatisfied. Hsieh faced a seeming paradox: If Zappos wanted to build their brand around customer satisfaction and become profitable, they needed to turn off their cash cow. “So we made what was both the easiest and hardest decision we ever had to make up to that point.”

Zappos soon got a line of credit from Wells Fargo. Their next challenge: If customer service was another core competency, they needed an extensive in-house call center. But they had trouble staffing those unglamorous jobs in the Bay Area. So in 2004, they moved Zappos headquarters to Las Vegas. In a tribute to the company culture, 70 out of 90 Zappos employees moved to Vegas with them. By 2008, they reached $1 billion in gross sales.

LAS VEGAS, NV JANUARY 14, 2017-At the entrance to Downtown Container Park in the area Hsieh helped … [] revitalize, a praying mantis structure by artist Kirk Jellum shoots fireballs. (Jason Ogulnik/For The Washington Post via Getty Images, 2017)

Secret sauce. Hsieh saw culture as synonymous with brand – people who enjoyed spending time together, making customers happy, and making decisions as a group, what Zappos calls Holacracy. Every employee, Hsieh said, would get trained as a call center rep to start, regardless of title – so customer service would be fundamental to their job.  He said these investments – instead of advertising – drive brand and word of mouth better than any advertising campaign ever could. “Everything else,” he said, “can and eventually will be copied.”

“We put our phone number at the top of every page of our site,” Hsieh explained, “because we want to talk to our customers.” Why? Isn’t it cheaper to interact through email, texts, apps and bots like virtually every other company? “The telephone is one of the best branding devices out there,” Hsieh explained. “You have the customer’s undivided attention for 5-10 minutes, and if you get the interaction right, the customer remembers the experience for a long time and tells his or her friends about it.”

Psychologist Jonathan Haidt, founder of the Heterodox Academy for viewpoint diversity and against political correctness, describes the same values that animated Hsieh also went on to define Zappos: “open and honest, passionate and humble, fun and a little weird.”

Amazon bought Zappos for $1.2 billion in 2009, but Hsieh stayed on until this past summer. Despite being worth a reported $840 million, he mostly lived in an Airstrem trailer in a Burning Man-inspired downtown Las Vegas trailer park he owned and called Llamapolis, with a pet alpaca. The trailer park lay at the center of an area he helped revitalize with $350 million and re-define through his philanthropy – a fitting memorial to this great, strange man.

More from Vices in Perfectirishgifts

ADVANCE: Nebula Labs (part 1)

Author: L. A. Lanquist

Content Warnings: References to ableist language, imposter syndrome

Advance: Nebula Labs (part 1)

Nebula Labs: “The place where the future becomes realized.” It’s a bit of an over-the-top motto, but people don’t really think about that because, well, Nebula Labs is an over-the-top experience. When people go to the talks and the demonstrations and the expositions that show off the fancy new gadgets Quinn “Q” Foster and their people came up with, they see flashy new ideas with research to back it up. They see charismatic speakers telling everyone how this new invention will change the world. And everyone believes it once they hear Q talk--when they think about how far Human technology has come since back on Earth. They think about the Brain-drive readers and the autoflyers and all of the other things Q themself came up with. And everyone believes that we can “leap into the future” as Q always says.

I believe that too--I guess if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, at the Bayside District branch of Nebula Labs, ready for my first day. But I’m not one of those impressive people who give talks and make ground-breaking developments in science and tech. I just got lucky.

Just under a month ago, Nebula Labs hosted the Youth Advancement Competition and Fair, and I was one of the 100 winners. As a winner, I get to be a part of one of the Advance teams of Nebula Labs and learn alongside some other people my age from actual staff members of the Labs. So technically, I’m officially a part of the famous Nebula Labs. But I’m not a formally educated professional or a young visionary or an ambitious upstart. I’m just Leo. I just wanted to make an automated drone carrier to help my Mom when her chronic pain gets too bad. I honestly don’t know why they chose me as one of the winners. I was just hoping for a little grant money so I could build one that actually worked instead of a prototype.

Don’t get me wrong, though! I’m super excited! I get to actually work at a place as awesome as Nebula Labs! I’ll get to learn a lot, and I can maybe get a good reference to do some other interesting things in the future. Maybe I can also make some more friends while I’m at it.

But right now, as I’m standing outside the Bayside District branch of Nebula Labs, staring at the motto engraved on a stone plaque just ahead of the big glass doors, I can’t help but feel nervous. I mean--I saw some of the projects people were working on at the Competition. There were people working with enzymes and with quantum physics and with brain drive adaptation devices. Mine by comparison is nothing major--we’ve had drones and automation since the Earth days. I’m not exactly doing anything new.

Someone with bright purple hair tears past me towards the entrance doors. For a fraction of a second I almost think it’s Q in the flesh what with the bright hair color, but this is definitely not them. This person has a thinner build, white skin, and their hair is straight. They’re so different it’s hard for me to understand why I mixed them up.

Once I figure out they’re not Q, the dread hits me: I know who they are. I never got their name, but they were one of the most talked-about participants at the Competition. They’re doing something with Wormhole Mapping that’s really promising. There were even a few local papers that ran stories about them. They’re also someone I accidentally bumped into (literally) during the Competition. I was reading a text from one of my hometown friends wishing me luck and wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me and then--wham. Neither of us fell down or anything, but it was definitely a heavy jostle. I apologized, but they were pissed. I only managed to get out of it because they were too busy to stick around to chew me out, but from their tongue click, glare, and angry shout of “Watch where you’re fucking going, asshole!” I can tell they probably wanted to shout some more.

Of all of the branches they would go to--why did it have to be this one? Thankfully they didn’t recognize me from behind, but there’s no way I’ll be able to avoid them forever.

“You going in, kid?”

I jump, just a little bit. It’s an adult, with long brown hair that falls off to the left, exposing a shaved side of their head and a heavily pierced ear. Their style clashes with the bored look their face has--big eyes and a slightly open mouth.

“Yeah--” I manage to squeak out--“just taking it all in.” Wow, Leo. Taking it all in? Well, not the worst thing I’ve said under pressure.

They take a long look at me, then glance down at their watch. It’s one of those vintage silicone watches with the grey tinted screen and the weird, segmented lettering. “Well, suit yourself, kid. Don’t be late.” And they proceed to walk inside.

It can’t be that late, though. I got here at 8:30. I check my phone.

8:45.

Oh jeez--I am gonna be late. I still need to check in and find room 420!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I make it to the room at 8:54 only because I ran (I really did think the room was going to be farther away), and I walk in at 8:55 after waiting for my face to stop feeling so hot.

The room is small, four rolling chairs: three facing forward to the screen and the white boards, and one facing the other chairs off to the side next to the screen. Two of the three forward-facing chairs are filled. Seated in the middle of the three chairs is a girl who also looks like she’s about fourteen, tall with blonde braided hair, staring straight at her phone. Next to her on the chair farthest from the door is--by my own lack of luck--the angry purple-haired person from before, facing away from the girl. I guess I could look at the situation optimistically and think about how it’s lucky that the angry person’s not next to the empty seat, but that’s a bit of a stretch.

But hey! That girl might be nice. I went into this hoping that I could maybe find a friend, so let’s try our best!

So I sit down and ask the girl, “Why are you here?”

Fuck. She slowly looks up from her phone looking like… well… like I was a weirdo, which isn’t far off from the truth at this point.

“Wait--no--I meant--uhh like what was your project on?” Fuck. There’s no salvaging this.

She says simply, “Extreme distance laser perception.”

Long distance laser perception. I don’t have the slightest clue how you would study that. Or what the use of that could be.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Emily. She/her.”

“Cool. I’m Leo. He/him.”

“Nice to meet you.”

I really don’t know what else to say. Do I ask about her research? But what if the question I ask is so stupid that--

“What did you do?” she asks.

“Automated flying drones based off of Cephalo ships.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit different from what you did,” I say.

“Yeah.”

I get the feeling that she’s just not a very talkative person, maybe?

“That’s all you two could come up with?” the angry person sneers from the side.

Emily and I both turn to look--her, still composed; me, uncomfortable. Neither of us says anything.

“There was a whole year of time before the competition and all you could come up with were some long range lights and a drone that flies itself? I mean, the first one could be useful for reading the distance of a planet, but we’ve had drones for fifty years. What a joke. How did you even get selected? No one cares about drones that can pilot themselves these days!”

“Shut up!” I force out.

Look--it’s true that I don’t really deserve to be here, especially compared to someone who’s doing something so important as Wormhole Mapping, but that last part makes me mad. I’ve seen so many people say things like that to my dad--about how he should just go to the store himself and how he does it on some days but not others so why make his kid go to the store instead of focusing on being a kid. They don’t know anything, and they’ve never cared enough to learn.

“What did you just say?” They cock their head to the side and their purple hair sweeps ever so slightly over their face. Their chin is forward in a challenge.

“Just because you don’t know anything about it doesn’t mean people don’t care about it, so shut up.” I’m glaring past Emily, now, who’s slowly rolling backward in her chair away from the two of us.

“Oh I remember you now--you’re the fucker that bumped into me!” They stand. “Is that how you got in? You try to take someone else out of the game with stunts like that?”

I stand up, too. No way am I going to just take this without a fight. But as I’m thinking of what to say back, the door opens.

In walks the person who spoke to me out front with the piercings and the old-school watch, but their bored expression is now gone. In its place is a tight smile with their big eyes now squinting with a sharp stare.

“Glad to see you’re all getting along, because fighting isn’t allowed, and I’d hate for you to lose this opportunity to work at Nebula Labs.”

No one moves.

“Please take your seats,” they say. “We have a video for you to watch, and then we’ll make our introductions.” The two of us sit, Emily scoots her way back forward, and the video starts. It’s a brief, one-size-fits-all video of Q that talks about Nebula Labs and its mission. Q’s narration voices over images of the main branch in The Capital and of this one in the Bayside District, as well as a few photos of smiling staff members. It ends, dramatically, with the same motto that was on the placard outside: The place where the future becomes realized. The screen transitions to white and the music fades out.

“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way--” the pierced person from before starts--“My name is Robin Graham. They/them or she/her. I study delayed imaging, which I believe is going to be most familiar to you,” they say to Emily. “For you two, delayed imaging relies on multiple cameras, so to speak, placed at various extreme distances imaging the same place to get photographs of that place at different times. That’s the bare minimum, but you’ll be learning plenty about it over the next year or so.”

I almost expect the purple-haired angry person from before to roll their eyes or make some comment about how they already knew what delayed imaging is, but when I glance over, they’re staring at Mx. Graham in something akin to awe. It’s a weird shift, if I’m being honest.

“So long as you all follow the rules,” Mx. Graham continues with a pointed stare to both me and the purple-haired person, “you’ll be guaranteed to be able to learn from experts for the next year before the Winter Tech Summit in The Capital. You’ll also be allowed to participate in the Winter Tech Summit in some capacity, though what you do will be determined by an in-house competition in the Fall.

“At that competition, each submission will be judged by Q, themself, as well as a panel of experts within Nebula Labs each with their own specialty. Those that do well will end up presenting. Those that do poorly will end up doing support work to ensure things go smoothly and can try again in a future year.”

This sounds amazing! I know I don’t have a chance of doing something like presenting at the conference, but I might be able to meet some people who’d be interested in making production actually possible.

Mx. Graham continues, “As you all know, there were a total of 100 chosen winners of the Youth Advancement Competition. It’s likely, however, that some of them have already chosen not to continue on and that some will drop out as time goes on for various reasons. In that regard, I can’t prepare you just yet for who will be on the teams going up against you three--”

“What?” The purple-haired person says.

“Is there a problem, Kiran?” Mx. Graham asks, acting innocently.

All the purple-haired person--no--all that Kiran says is: “Teams?”

“Oh yes, you three will be working on a team together.”

“What?” Kiran is looking more and more irate as the seconds pass.

“If that’s a problem for you, you can always leave,” Mx. Graham says with a smile. “Each of the teams were compiled by Q, themself, so it’s a take-it-or-leave-it kind of situation. It would be a shame to have you go, but if teamwork isn’t something you can do, Nebula labs isn’t right for you.”

Kiran stays with their shoulders tense and their teeth gritted, but does not say another word.

“Good. Glad to see you’ll all be continuing on. I look forward to working with you all as your team leader.”

And that was that. Maybe I should leave after all.

Reading not-Wednesday

After feeling sick for a while lately, I saw on doctor on Friday and discovered I have bronchitis! Which means this week has mostly been an excuse to sit still and read light-hearted things. What did you just finish? The Windfall by Diksha Basu. A light but charming novel about a middle-class Indian family who abruptly become fabulously wealthy when the father sells a website he developed. Mr and Mrs Jha – middle-aged, comfortable, traditional – decide to move from their old family apartment in East Delhi to a brand-new mansion in Gurgaon; the American equivalent might be a couple selling their Queens apartment to set up in a McMansion in Silicon Valley. This, of course, leads to cultural clashes both funny and sad, from broken ties with old friends to an ever-escalating game of financial one-upmanship with the new neighbors. Meanwhile, their son Rupak is attempting to acquire a MBA from an American university. "From Cornell", the elder Jhas like to say at first, when they're showing off their upward mobility; "from the nearby Ithaca College", they say later, when it becomes clear that having a failure of a son is even more of an indication of wealth – after all, only the really rich can support useless offspring! Rupak himself strives to chose between two romantic possibilities: the white Elizabeth (Rupak assumes his parents would never approve of him dating an American, while Mr Jha secretly longs for a white daughter-in-law to humblebrag about) or the Indian Serena (who, despite being the niece of a family friend and fellow Delhite, culturally comes from ivory-tower artists who are possibly even more foreign than the Americans). None of the characters are particularly three-dimensional, but then, it's not really that sort of book; it's more interested in recognizing certain real-life types of people and having a gentle laugh at them than exploring the deep personal ramifications of sudden wealth. It's also an excellent book for Westerners despite being set almost entirely in India. Basu has a subtle but deft hand at explaining various cultural allusions without exoticifying them. For example, at one point Serena sends a joking text to Rupak: Have you seen all the places in Collegetown charging $5 or more for turmeric milk? Good old haldi doodh that our mothers make every day. Forget banking, that should be your next big business idea—something from our childhood at marked-up prices. I’m thinking Maggi Ramen. Wait, that might actually be a good idea. Look at that! Providing a translation and context for "haldi doodh" in very naturalistic-sounding dialogue, adding "Ramen" to the brand-name "Maggi" so that it becomes something recognizable even to someone who's never been to India, and all without alienating a reader who's already familiar with both. It's such a minor thing to point out, but I noticed Basu doing this work in several places, and I'm very impressed at how she manages to speak to two audiences at once. Anyway! It's fun, it's breezy, and it's not too serious: I recommend it. I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. An Extraordinary Union by Alyssa Cole. A romance novel set during the American Civil War. Elle Burns, a black woman with photographic memory, works as a spy for the Loyal League, a (fictional? I think?) network of black men and women working to end slavery. Her first independent mission requires her to travel to Richmond in the opening days of the war, where she goes undercover as a slave in the house of a Confederate senator. She soon meets Malcolm McCall, a confederate soldier who is strangely kind to her – and who turns out to be a spy himself, employed by the Pinkerton Detective Agency to gather information for Lincoln. Their immediate attraction to one another is constantly hampered by distrust, the need to maintain their cover stories (which includes Malcolm's flirting with the senator's daughter), rumors of the Confederacy developing a new superweapon, and general social stigma (even without the complications of spies and war, an interracial relationship in the 1860s isn't exactly easy or welcome). There are kidnappings and burning buildings and gunshot wounds and dramatic escapes to add adventure to the love story, but ultimately it is very much a love story. This was a great book, but unfortunately it wasn't quite as great as I had wanted it to be. I can't quite put my finger on why – maybe I needed slightly fuller characterizations? a longer timespan for the relationship to develop? richer dialogue? maybe my expectations were just too high? – and I absolutely don't want to discourage anyone from reading it. It's great! It's just not, you know, the GREATEST. Although bonus points for including a slightly fictionalized version of the story of Robert Smalls! I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. Dearest Rogue by Elizabeth Hoyt. A historical romance, set in England in the mid-1700s. Phoebe is the younger brother of a Duke (himself the star of the Regency Batman! romance I read last year) and has slowly been going blind for the last decade. In response, her brother hires a bodyguard, Captain James Trevillion, to follow her around everywhere and keep her from danger. Although since her brother hardly ever lets her leave the house and even then only to specific, sheltered events it seems a bit like overkill, but then overprotective older brothers: what are they for other than giving heroines a reason to rebel? Unfortunately for Phoebe, her brother seems to be proven correct when a gang of men attempt to kidnap her for mysterious reasons. Phoebe's need for independence and James's need to protect her provide a nice set of conflicts for them to resolve as they slowly start to see one another as friends (and more!) rather than obstacles. Phoebe's youth, status, and cheeriness are contrasted with James's age, cynicism, and working-class-ish origins, so that even once they finally admit their feelings they can't immediately hop into marriage. They have nice chemistry, but my favorite part of the book was Phoebe herself. Here's a scene I feel captures her character very well (she and James are pretending to be married for the purpose of traveling together): “And, just for you, I’ve ordered a mild ale instead of wine,” he said. “Have you?” “Much against my better judgment. It’s a common drink, my la—ahem, wife, and I cannot think it’ll be pleasing to your palate. Although,” he added under his breath, “considering where we are, the beer is probably better here than the wine.” She brightened at the prospect of a new experience. “Then I must taste it at once.” “It’s right here.” He took her hand and placed it on a pewter tankard. “To your health, husband,” she said solemnly and took a sip. Or rather tried to, for her nose seemed to be buried in foam. She inhaled in surprise—not the best thing to do—coughed, and then sneezed. “I do beg your pardon,” Captain Trevillion said, and she couldn’t help noticing that his voice was oddly muffled. Phoebe sneezed again—rather violently—dabbed at her eyes and nose with her handkerchief, regained her breath, and immediately demanded, “Are you laughing at me?” “Never my… wife. Never,” he assured her, his voice shaking. He was. He was most certainly laughing. She sat up straight, threw her shoulders back, and brought the tankard to her mouth again. This time she kept her nose out of the way and delicately sipped through the foam. The beer was… well, sour. And oddly prickly on her tongue. She held it in her mouth for a moment, thinking, and then swallowed. “Well?” She held up a finger and took another sip. Sour. Yeast. Something earthy. And those funny little prickles. She swallowed and took another sip. Did she like the aroma? She’d smelled it all her life—most of the people of London drank beer—it was the common man’s water. That sour tang, so warm and strong. She plunked down her tankard. “I think… I think I shall have to experience it more.” “Why?” he asked. “If you don’t like it, then drink wine.” “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” “Nor did you seem overcome with your enjoyment of it,” he pointed out drily. “It’s… different—very different—from anything I’ve ever tasted before,” she said, her finger tracing the cool metal of the tankard. “I’d like to try it again.” “If you wish to do so, then I’ll certainly obtain you beer at our meals while we travel, but I don’t understand. Why force yourself to drink what you don’t like?” “But I’m not forcing myself,” she returned, tracing the edge of the tankard, feeling the bubbles pop against her fingertip. “Don’t you see? I want to explore different things—food, places, people. If, after several tastings, I find I cannot stomach the beer, then I shall give it up. Often something tasted for the first time seems foreign to us—strange and off-putting. It’s only after repeated tries that one realizes that this new thing, this once-strange thing, is quite familiar now. Familiar and beloved.” Phoebe inhaled, her breath coming too quickly with the force of her argument. “To only try but once and declare a thing lacking… why, that’s quite cowardly.” Of course I love a character who is devoted to tasting new things! The scene also shows how Phoebe's blindness is handled narratively, which I was very curious about before reading. Would Hoyt pull out some weird stylistic device to get around describing things visually? No – as here, there's usually so much dialogue that the lack of visuals hardly makes a difference. Overall I think the issue of Phoebe's disability was very well-handled; it's easy to sympathize with her desire for autonomy, and yet she's very much not defined by her blindness. One could write the exact same book starring a sighted character without needing to change one detail of the plot – overprotected younger sisters are not exactly a rare character type. The blindness feels simply like a realistically-presented detail. The multiple kidnapping attempts and their ultimate resolution are a bit silly, but eh, it's a historical romance; I don't need the plot to be all that serious. I had fun and enjoyed the characters, which is all I ask, and this is an excellent example of the genre.

(DW link for easier commenting)

The Great Backpack Switchup

@ushibakawaka: aww you’re too cute, this request wasn’t bad at all! I actually really loved it! Thanks for requesting, I hope you like it(:

Pairing: Mingyu/Reader

Genre: don’t be fooled by the summary, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 3K

Summary: In which a tampon, a notebook and a dildo lead Mingyu to his future girlfriend, or a sex addict, either is valid. 

Author’s Note: I may have made this a lot weirder than I should but oh whales, I think it’s funny. Do you guys care for profanities by the way? I have a sailor’s mouth constantly, so I never really censor myself but if you guys want me to start putting in a warning please let me know! I don’t want to offend anyone!  And just a side note: I’m not going to be able to write every request I get, just because I don’t get inspiration to write from the scenarios that are requested. Don’t be offended! I just suck at being creative sometimes. I do keep the idea in my drafts just in case an idea suddenly pops into my head! 

“Dude, is that a tampon?” Dokyeom asked from his desk beside his friend, a sly smile creeping on his face, ready to torment the boy. Mingyu’s eyes trace his arm, down his bicep, forearm and to his hand which was holding a white wrapped contraption like a pencil over his paper. A gasp escapes his lips, dropping the tampon immediately, hands and body staying away from the masculinity killing item as he could. 

“What the fuck.” Mingyu mumbles, hands rubbing against each other as if the object had burned through his skin. Dokyeom and Minghao are already falling from their chairs, laughing hysterically at the situation at hand. Mingyu, however, is flooded with confusion, trying to pinpoint exactly where he had grabbed that, thing. “I meant to grab a pencil.”

“Looks like you’re having more issues than just a lack of pencils buddy.” Minghao pats Mingyu’s back, still giggling, “Do you need Advil or something? My girlfriend tells me coconut water is good for cramps.”

Mingyu sends a death glare to his friend, the look searing through the red head’s skull, anger bubbling through his body. Mingyu takes the pencil from Minghao’s desk and pokes the tampon back into backpack-which past experience have informed him that it’s clearly not his in the first place.

“Why are you acting like that thing will kill you? You won’t die from touching it.” Dokyeom questions, pushing the tampon the rest of the way into the bag.

“Isn’t it, unsanitary?” Mingyu looks at Dokyeom’s hand, almost disgusted. Clearly, Mingyu didn’t understand girls as much as he had claimed to. He begins searching through the bag, pulling out a pretty yellow pencil case that definitely didn’t belong to him.

“It hasn’t even been used, you’re being ridiculous. You’re acting twelve.” Mingyu stops listening to his friend, earning an eye roll from Dokyeom. The boy is too occupied by pulling out the contents of the bag to listen to a lecture. It didn’t take long, with Mingyu’s arm stuffed into the back pack, blindly reaching around the bottom, until he felt something rather peculiar. His hand wrapped around it, his thumb sliding over what felt like a silicone button.

Vibrating. 

His hand was vibrating. 

Why was it vibrating.

The sound seemed to echo against the canvas, and all three boys eyes dart to the bag. Their faces scrunch up in confusion, heads tilt trying to figure out what exactly that was. 

“Is that their phone?” Minghao asks, Mingyu shakes his head almost too violently.

“It doesn’t feel like a phone,” the boy replies getting an idea of the item he was holding, already wanting to burn his hand off even more.

“Take it out of the bag.” Dokyeom prods, catching on to Mingyu’s clear nervousness. A sly smirk rests on his face, a laugh already forming in his stomach.

“I don’t want to.” Mingyu replies meekly, not really sure why he had his hand still wrapped around it. Maybe he didn’t want to believe he was actually holding what he was holding. Maybe he was too shocked that he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Mingyu,” Dokyeom says through the fit of laughter he’s already breaking into, “Show me whats in your hand.” Mingyu complies, ready for the ridicule from his friends, bracing for the years of jokes that will follow. He slowly lifts his hand from the bag, still vibrating-why he hadn’t turned it off was beyond him- a magenta dildo staring all of them in the eyes, all at once. Minghao and Dokyeom lose it, falling from their chairs again, grasping their stomachs, tears threatening to fall.

“Now that’s, that’s unsanitary.” Minghao practically yells, hand grasping the desk still struggling to breath properly. The entire room turns their heads, the brightly colored toy catching their eyes first. Confusion hits most of them, laughter follows and suddenly everyone is asking questions. Mingyu drops the item onto the floor, still too freaked out to turn it off. Thankfully, the teacher had left the room earlier, needing to copy papers for the next class.

“Turn it off Mingyu, you’re wasting the battery. If it runs out you won’t be able to use it later!” A student exclaims from the ahead of them. Laughter taking over him as well. Mingyu picks up the dildo, fumbling to find the button and throwing it to the floor as soon as he figured it out. 

“It’s not mine!” Mingyu all but screams, pointing to the magenta device as if it had been ridiculing him too. But it basically was, tormenting his very being, threatening his very existence. Mingyu wanted to hide for the rest of his life. 

“mmhmm. Okay Mingyu, just get back to your seat please.” The teacher speaks as he walks into the classroom. He’s shuffling through papers, not caring enough to look at the scene as he reaches his desk. “And for the love of God, please don’t use it while I’m lecturing.” A smile tugs on the teachers lips while a defeated gasp escapes Mingyu’s throat. He throws his hands in the air, gathering the silicone monster and dropping it into the bag. He slumps in his chair as soon as he sits back down. 

He was going to get to the bottom of this, and he was going to clear his name. 

The bag is dropped in front of the boys who occupy the lunch table. Mingyu sits across from Wonwoo, unzipping the bag and pulling out the numerous books and notebooks. Wonwoo reads the textbooks as Mingyu pulls them out.

“Calc 3, AP Biology, Shakespearean Literature, this girl is way too smart to have a class with you, so that’s definitely not an option.” MIngyu sends a pointed stare to his friend.

“Says you, you’re too old for this grade anyways, what did you do, get held back?”

“I started school late!” Wonwoo whines, palms flat against the lunch table, the rest of the groups laughs at their friend, “Besides, I’m not the one who brings a dildo to class so,” Wonwoo shrugs it off, a smirk already plastered on his face as he crosses his arms. 

MIngyu grabs the bag defensively, groaning in frustration, “We’ve already decided it’s not my bag. You said it yourself, I’m too stupid to have these textbooks!” 

“I feel like you’re not helping yourself very much.” Vernon comments beside Mingyu, head resting in his hand, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Look, none of that matters right now. I just need to figure out what freak this bag belongs to, so I can prove to everyone I didn’t bring a fucking dildo to class.” Mingyu explains, pulling out a folder with hopes to read a name off of one of the papers. He shuffles through the sheets, scanning through the corners in an attempt for an easier answer. 

Nothing. No named papers were scattered across the table. Who doesn’t write their names on papers?

Mingyu exerts a sigh, the frustration building up by the second, “This is going to be impossible.” He shakes his head and buries it into his hands.

“Maybe it was switched up during the assembly this morning.” Chan suggests from down the table. “We threw the bags in that pile to save space in the bleachers remember? You probably picked up the wrong one.” He shrugs, as Mingyu snaps his finger in approval.

“Wow, now we know how they got switched, if only that information would actually figure out who brings a dildo to school.” Vernon replies instead, making Mingyu retract his hand to think once again. 

“Dammit. He’s right.” Mingyu comments, putting his hand to his chin to think. A minute or two passes, the boys surrounding the table trying to think of a decent plan and Mingyu decides to search through the backpack once again.

“Are you sure you want to do that? You might find some more weird shit, I’m just saying from your past revelations.” Wonwoo asks, watching Mingyu as he pulls out another notebook. It looked worn out, most of the pages were filled, doodles and scribbles covering most of them.

“Is that a diary?” Dokyeom asks, sitting up straight to catch a glance at it as Mingyu lays it on the table. “You’re not telling me you’re going to read it are you?” Mingyu looks up at his friend, nodding at the question.

“That’s like, a complete invasion of privacy!” Seungkwan interjects, grabbing the journal from the table and coddling it like a baby. Mingyu frowns, prying it from his friends arms, setting it on the table to read it. Seungkwan argues once again, only to be pushed by Mingyu in order to silence him.

“I just need to see if there’s anything that will tell me who she is.” He flips through the pages, doodles of teachers and students catching his line of sight, earning a laugh on his end as he sees a familiar name. “Jihoon, you’re in here.” 

The older boy turns his head, not really paying attention to the conversation until that moment, he walks over to stand behind Mingyu as he reads the notebook. “That doesn’t even look like me.” Jihoon complains, the cartoonish character looking back at him. The words ‘Jihoon hates me):’, sloppily written under it. 

“That’s probably why you hate her huh.” Mingyu looks up at his friend, who’s head is hovering over his shoulder.

“I don’t even know who she is!” He exclaims, shuffling back to his seat and grumpily taking a sip from his water. 

“Well at least we know she has a class with Jihoon, so we can narrow down our options.” Minghao explains as he shuffles through the textbooks once again, “You take AP Music Theory don’t you Jihoon?” The boy nods, trying to remember the faces from his fifth period class. 

“I have that class after lunch, I’ll just ask around I guess.” Jihoon suggests, Mingyu shaking his head in disagreement.

“No, I want to ask. I want an explanation,  I’ll come to class with you.” Jihoon raises an eyebrow at Mingyu.

“Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Eh. Who needs Pre-calculus anyways.” Mingyu shrugs leaning back into his chair. Jihoon scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval.

“I don’t know who this girl is, but she sure as hell too smart for you. Everyone is.”

“There’s no one in this class.” Mingyu complains as he takes a seat in a desk next to JIhoon. He scans the faces of the various students entering, none of them he could recognize.

“What are you talking about, theres like twelve people in here already.” Jihoon states, pulling out his notebook to take notes.

“No one I know.”

“That’s because the people in this class are AP students. Ever heard of that Mingyu? Advanced. Placement. I know those words might be too far out of your vocabulary, mister school is nothing” Mingyu side eyes his friend, eventually focusing back on the door.

“You’re so pretentious.”

“Wow, three syllable. I’m impressed. Do you know what that means?” Mingyu coughs, avoiding the question and earning a laugh from Jihoon in return. Fewer people walk into class as passing period comes to an end. Some redhead he’s never seen, some lanky guys he’s never seen, some irresistibly pretty girl he’s nev- holy shit who is that- Mingyu thinks as he stops in his tracks. You huff as you shuffle in, eyes scanning the classroom before landing on Mingyu.

You’ve never seen him before, but he smiles greasily at you anyways. You stifle a laugh moving your eyes to the right to see Jihoon. He turns to you, gesturing to the seat next to him, where you always sat. You turn your body, preparing to walk through the aisles when a certain something about you catches Mingyu’s eyes. 

A backpack. His backpack. 

Mingyu is torn between throwing your backpack at you and wanting to ask for your number. He turns to Jihoon quickly, whispering to his friend as he kept his eyes trained on you.

“That’s her. This is her backpack.” Jihoon looks at Mingyu, then looks at you, not believing Mingyu.

“Y/n? No way. She wouldn’t bring a dildo to school.” As Jihoon replies, you take the seat beside him, smiling at both of the boys before adjusting your chair. “What’s up y/n. This is my friend Mingyu, he’s an idiot and also brings dildos to class.” Jihoon glances at Mingyu, smirking at the younger boy’s panic. You laugh, assuming it was a joke between friends. You look at Mingyu, who’s face is far redder than is should be and he shyly smiles back at you. “How’s it going?”

You sigh in reply, clearly exhausted from your day. “I’m doing fine, pretty tired though, it’s been hectic all day for me. By the way, can I borrow a paper and pencil? My backpack got switched today, and I just don’t feel right searching through this person’s stuff you know.” You look at Jihoon innocently, a horrified look is plastered on your friends face.

“Oh my god you did.” Was all Jihoon says, earning a confused look from you. He coughs, pointing to Mingyu beside him, “about that. I think MIngyu’s got something for you.” Your attention turns to Mingyu, who drops your backpack onto his desk and waves cheekily at you.

“My backpack! Wow, it really does look like yours, did you get it from amazon? That’s where I got mine” you laugh as you reach across the tables to retrieve your things. Mingyu pulls back the bag, shaking his head. 

“Ah ah ah.” He exclaims, your eyes squinting at the boy you’ve never met before. “I have some questions about the contents of the bag actually. You can retrieve your bag outside of the classroom. “ Mingyu stands up, and turns to the door, walking out of the classroom. You watch him for a second before standing up, not really understanding what was happening. You tell your teacher you’re going to the bathroom, only to be waved off because, honestly she couldn’t care less.

“What are you talking about? Just give me my backpack.” You reach for your bag once again, only to be intercepted as Mingyu turns his body. “Did you look in my bag? You have the audacity to look in my things when I didn’t peek at yours! Who the hell are you?”

“You seem rather upset about me looking at your things, do you have something to hide, y/n?” Mingyu sets the bag down beside him, bending over slightly to look you in the eyes. You had pretty eyes- he thought. He’d like to look at the more often. 

“My tampons?” You peep, not understanding the question.

“Oh no, no, no, I’m talking about something else. Something that has caused me a lot of trouble.” Mingyu straightens up and leans against the wall, scanning your body. Losing track of his thought as he did so, “You seem pretty smart, do you tutor by chance? I could use a tutor, see Jihoon wasn’t lying when he said I’m an idiot and I figure someone as pretty as you could help me focus a little more,” Mingyu asks, clearly getting off topic. You roll your eyes shifting your weight to the other leg as you cross your arms. 

“What did you find in my backpack, Mingyu?” 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” He nods, before going on, “care to explain why you have a dildo in your bag?” You choke on your breath, eyes widening in surprise.

“A what?”

“A dildo.” He says louder. You hush him immediately, before reaching over to cover his mouth. The attempt proved itself to be failure, as the boy was much too tall for you to put in the energy. 

“I don’t know what your talking about.” You shake your head, wondering why he would blatantly lie about the matter. 

“Don’t play dumb. I can show it to you if you want.” Mingyu crouches down, unzipping the bag and pulling out the magenta silicon device half way before you stopp him

“Oh my god there’s actually a dildo in there.” You say in horror, placing both of your hands on Mingyu’s to push it back down in the bag. The two of you were a lot closer than you had intended, and when you looked up his face was inches from yours. You fell backwards in surprise, landing on your butt in front of him. You cross your legs and put your hand to your lips to think, trying to identify exactly who would put a dildo in your backpack. After a minute, you knew exactly who had done it. “That fucker.” You whisper, Mingyu still watching you as you sat in concentration. While you were trying to figure out the situation, Mingyu was figuring out how to get into AP Music Theory, AP Biology, and Shakespearean english, halfway through the second semester of his Senior year. He’ll have to speak to his counselor later. 

“That who?” He asks and you look up. Mingyu’s already standing and he holds out a hand to pull you up. You take the offer and your suddenly standing up in front of him.

“My brother. He plays these pranks all the time. I gave that dildo to him as a gag gift, and he’s been fucking with our family ever since.” You shake your head, smiling at the thought. “Sorry about that, you must have been very confused.” Mingyu smiles gently at you, already forgiving you for the constant torment that will follow him.

“Completely.”

“I’m still angry you looked through my bag.” You comment, MIngyu shrugging in response, “But I guess I can get over it, since you’re probably the guy everyone has been talking about today. You can tell everyone it was my bag if you want.” Mingyu ponders the offer for a split second before waving his hand in rejection.

“It’s fine, I’ll live as dildo boy for the rest of high school, it would be worse if everyone found out it was your bag instead.” You soften at his sweet gesture, a reaction Mingyu was hoping to get.

“Wow dildo boy, you’re my hero.”

“But,” Mingyu pauses before grabbing his phone from his back pocket, “You have to give me your number in return. It’s only fair.” You take his phone, punching in your phone number and setting your contact information.

“A phone number for weeks of ridicule. Seems fair.”

Mingyu watches as you speak, all worry from the events of the day drifting away from him. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted to keep making you smile and if that meant saving your ass, he would do it a thousand times again. He smiled again, something he felt like he has done a dozen times since meeting you a mere fifteen minutes ago. 

“I’d say you’re worth it.”

Midnight on Midwinter

Triplet AU Fic. Direct Sequel to The Longest Night of the Year

Ty chewed a peppermint stick as she carefully undid the ribbon on one of the packages in her pile. So far the King of Winter’s generosity had proven to be quite bountiful and she was saving the largest parcel for last, hoping it would be a new guitar. She looked up at the sound of one her siblings leaping to their feet with a cry of joy.

Mabel held an unwrapped gift over her head and did a little excited shuffling dance with her feet. “Santa, you perverted bastard, you are the best!”

Dipper squinted at the object in his sister’s hands. “Mabes, what the hell is that?”

The middle triplet felt her cheeks start to burn. “Please tell me that wasn’t on the christmas list you gave to mom and dad, too.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “I’m not dumb. Santa just knows what we really want in our hearts.” She dashed over to sister and showed off the device. “Look, it’s one of the good ones too: two strap, phthalate free silicone, insertable bits for both parties and check this out.” She thumbed a small button and it started to emit a low buzzing noise.

Dipper face was suddenly awash with realization and horror. “Is that a sex toy?”

Mabel herself was practically buzzing with excitement. “Yes!”

Ty read her sister’s face plain as day. “Mabel, don’t you want to finish opening your presents before playing with them?”

“I did! This was the last one.” She looked from one of them to the other. “What? It’s not my fault you two are slow-pokes.”

Their brother craned his head, brows furrowed. “Why does it have straps?”

“Oh Dip, you are in for a treat. If Ty is willing to take a break from her painfully slow unwrapping, we can suit her up and show you.”

“Wait,” Ty startled “it’s your present, why am I putting on?”

“Because it’s my present.” Her sister winked at her, threw an arm around her neck and pulled her in for a long kiss. When their lips parted, she pressed their foreheads together, puppy-dog eyes in full force. “Please, Ty. It won’t take all that long and I double-secret-triplet swear I’ll return the favor.”

Ty sighed and put her own partially unwrapped gift down. “Alright, show me how to put it on.” She rose and started to slip out of her panties. It took a couple of minutes and a little trial and error to get Ty kitted up, but when completed, the straps held the pink silicone phallus in place. Ty looked down at it and experimentally swayed her hips from side to side. “Ok, this is a little weird.”

Dipper sat back and folded his arms, looking unconvinced. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh you two.” Mabel scoffed and pulled her body close to her sister’s “I think you look sexy, Ty.” She kissed her sister again, running the fingertips of one hand down her body and giving the strap on a little tug.

Their brother gave them an incredulous look. “So is the whole point of this thing to just render me moot?”

“Such a pessimist, Dipstuff. The point is to increase the possibilities. Get over here and I’ll be happy to demonstrate.” She offered her hand to him and pulled him to his feet when he took it. She positioned herself between them, Ty behind and Dipper at her front. Tenderly, she started to kiss her brother’s collarbone at the same time reaching back with one hand to caress her sister’s hip.

Ty and Dipper looked at each other over Mabel’s bowed head. Ty gave a little shrug and stood a little on tip toe to kiss him. She slipped a hand between Mabel and Dipper’s bodies and ran in along their skin until she could cup one of Mabel’s breasts. Then, Dipper drew in a breath as Mabel’s hand found his crotch and began to message him through his boxers.

When he’d grown fully excited, Mabel slipped down to her knees between them and yanked down the elastic of his underwear. As she took him into her mouth, one of her hands reached up and found the little button on the toy Ty was wearing. The middle triplet stifled a little moan as the vibrations hit her; at the same time Dipper broke their kiss to make a sort of wild noise. His arms wrapped around her as his knees buckled under the pleasure of whatever in particular Mabel was up to down there.

She heard Mabel’s voice from below. “I think we better get our brother off his feet, Ty-bear.” Gently she guided Dipper to lay on the floor of the living room. Mabel was on all fours now, to resume her work on their brother. Her back end was pointed up at Ty and moving slightly as her head moved up and down. After a moment of inaction on her sister’s part, Mabel took Dipper out of her mouth, looked over her shoulder at her, and winked. “You’ve got a hammer, Ty, everything is supposed to look like a nail.”

Ty realized she was missing a cue and sunk to her knees as well. She hooked her fingertips into Mabel’s panties are pulled them down and out of the way. Gingerly she rubbed Mabel’s vulva with a couple of fingers and found her sister was more wet than she could remember on any other occasion. She looked to her brother for a moment, expecting to find a little reassurance in him, but his head was rolled back in ecstasy.

Well, she reasoned, this doesn’t look tricky when men do it.

She guided the tip of the toy to its target and slowly pushed forward. Mabel let out a moan around Dipper’s cock, which in turn caused him to make a noise of enjoyment. Ty placed her hands on her sister’s hips and started to thrust. It turned out to be quite a bit more fun than she expected. The buzzing of the toy’s little motor and its own parts designed for her use helped, of course, but the real fun was they way it felt to push and pull against her sister, causing a series of lovely little noises and making Mabel buck back against her hips. It made Ty feel good, sort of powerful.

She looked up and Dipper was watching her with half lidded eyes. He flicked his gaze to Mabel’s face and back, eyebrow cocked a little. “I think she likes it, Ty.”

Ty nodded, leaned forward, and changed her motion to short strokes, allowing her to slip a hand around Mabel’s front. Mabel’s moans intensified as the stimulations of fingers and toy combined. She was starting to really grind back against Ty’s body with each stroke. After a few moments Ty felt her sister’s legs start to twitch and spasm a little. Her whole body shook as she climaxed and she pulled her mouth free of Dipper so she could vocalize her enjoyment. Dipper opened his eyes and looked at Ty, locking gaze with her as their sister was wracked with waves of pleasure between them.

Mabel let out a final little squeak and slumped forward over her brother’s stomach. “Heck to the yeah.” She said weakly. “I’ve wanted that for a while. Totally up to expectations.”

“Glad you liked it so much.”

Ty shuffled over on her knees and kissed Mabel’s cheek, then gently moved her aside a little. She bent down and languorously licked the length of Dipper’s erection, then let the tip slip into her mouth. As she worked, Mabel crossed her arms on her brother’s stomach and rested her chin on them. “And that’s just one possibility. Do you remember that thing you asked Ty about the other day?”

Dipper’s breath was ragged. “Yea, of course.”

“Well, imagine you get to do that to one of us while the other uses that little toy the traditional way. It’s like in that video you showed us.”

Their brother bit his lip and groaned from deep in his throat. Ty recognized the signs and let him finish in her mouth, rubbing the base of his cock with her hand as he came. After, when her throat was clear, she tapped Mabel on the shoulder. “Did the elves bring any orange juice? Something acidic is usually helpful after that.”

Mabel sprang to her feet. “After the good job you did, Ty-dye, you deserve a heck of a lot more.”

“Well,” Ty smiled, “if you don’t mind sharing your gift, I can think of some possibilities for how you can even the score.”

Her sister handed her a tall glass of juice. “Don’t want to get back to opening your presents?”

Ty took a swig. “They’ll still be here in the morning. Now help me out of this, you get to play with your toy now.”

ZenSleep Starter kit- Find out Which Solution Works First-Class For You!”

Snoring usually happens in three places: again of the throat, or the mouth, and the nostril. ZenSleep Starter kit consists of three verified and powerful merchandise to the goal each snoring place:

ZenGuard is a tongue preserving tool that opens up obstruction that reasons throat snoring.Entrap lightly supports lower jaw while stopping snoring originating from the mouth.

ZenVents maximize airflow in nasal passageways; targeting snoring originating from the nostril.

ZenSleep Starter kit is a revolutionary and straightforward manner that will help you and your partner pick out where your snoring occurs and which product(s) work great for you.

We realize from great snoring studies that one product can not work for everybody.

Why?

Now not everybody snores from the same place or for the identical purpose. Attempt every ZenSleep product one after the other to see which one works fine for you.

How does it work?

Every product in the kit is designed to target precise snoring area. ZenGuard for throat was snoring, entrap for mouth snoring and Z events for nostril snoring.For maximum effects, you can use a combination of products.

For excellent results, we suggest repeated use of every product for 10 to 15 consecutive nights.As an unfastened BONUS, ZenSleep Starter Kits includes extremely comfortable three-D sleep ZenMask and silicone reusable ear ZenPlugs.

ZenMask blocks out a hundred% of light. Tender and Contoured with nostril Ridge. Might not put pressure on your Eyes with Adjustable Velcro Straps.ZenPlugs are washer-friendly and reusable for extended put on. Those special flanged earplugs are constructed of silicone and designed for ultra-gentle, extremely cozy noise discount.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

In case you are questioning that ZenSleep is a rip-off, let me inform you it's miles certainly no longer. The kit is fantastically recommended through one of a kind doctors, and the gadgets work considering that day one. Except, ZenSleep has tremendous customer support, so in case you are having a problem with your device you are going to have all the guide you want.

Cons:

the handiest disadvantage I'm able to discover with this software is the fact that it's miles a bit expensive. But the right factor is that you want to do one funding, and then you could use the package for so long as you need.Besides, in the beginning, the gadgets may additionally seem a bit uncomfortable or a bit weird, but just the first night time.

ZenSleep reviews

Earlier than doing any buy, I usually want to understand how have been different humans' reviews. To recognize other critiques about the product. This is why before buying this kit I googled ZenSleep opinions, to recognize if somebody knew it. 

No longer handiest people was greater than happy with this kit, but also I didn’t find another anti-snoring package that seems to work. People had been speaking approximately how outstanding this kit turned into and how unexpectedly did its work.

This is why I significantly inspire you to google ZenSleep reviews and notice it for yourself. This system works. However I suppose you want to examine different humans' experiences because it is undoubtedly useful; specifically in case, you have any particular doubt, the ones critiques can undoubtedly assist you.

Some of the reviews I found online: ‘The devices are so comfortable that you don’t even word you're carrying them’; ‘thanks to ZenSleep, not best I am glad, but my spouse is also notable satisfied!’.

ZenGuard

The ZenGuard is a Tongue Stabilizing device (TSD) designed to hold the consumer’s tongue in the vicinity at some point of sleep. This placement allows to save you Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA), which can be precipitated while the language falls back of the mouth, obstructing air go with the flow and resulting in constriction and relaxation of the throat muscle tissues.

The ZenGuard is meant to prevent this form of obstruction while last as unobtrusive as viable.With the aid of making use of suction to the tongue to keep it slightly out of doors the mouth, the ZenGuard also allows preventing enamel grinding and immoderate jaw movement, without being as cumbersome or intrusive as a Mandibular development tool (MAD).

Zenvents

Additionally, with the aid of ZenSleep, the ZenVents are a nasal accessory designed to address snoring from the nose rather than the larynx. One not great purpose of nasal snoring is nasal congestion, regularly because of allergies.

The ZenVent is designed to provide the most feasible airflow by way of dilating the user’s nasal passages while last secure and clean to use. Just like the ZenGuard, the reason of the ZenVents is to provide the quality possible night time’s sleep with the aid of stopping snoring, which can block REM sleep for the sleeper or their accomplice.

Snore Guard Review

Snore guard has emerged as one of the most reliable and effective anti-snoring mouthpieces invented up to this date. Snore Guard not only looks different from all other mandibular advancement devices (MADs) but it has a whole lot of other advantages too.

Being budget-friendly is also one of the many qualities that make Snore Guard the priority of countless people all around the world. People who snore habitually cannot enjoy a peaceful sleep which results in a disturbed work routine, a sour mood and bad behavior.

ZenMask

The ZenMask, a blackout eye mask, is extra of a conventional sleep aid than a mainly snoring focused answer. Just like the entrap, it is made with a smooth and herbal feeling fabric, with an adjustable strap to in shape every wearer’s wishes. It also capabilities a domed shape, so the mask does not press into the wearer’s eyes, even as still fitting securely sufficient to block out all ambient light.

ZenPlugs

The ZenPlugs are fixed of silicone earplugs meant to provide the excellent stability of comfort and noise discount. Not like OTC products, the ZenPlugs are designed for longevity and are reusable over a prolonged time frame. 

They alter to suit the scale of your ear, so are appropriate for all customers. Just like the entrap and the ZenMask, the ZenPlugs work nicely as a conventional sleep resource or a supplement to the

ZenGuard or the ZenVents.

ZenSleep offers various products proper to one-of-a-kind troubles with snoring; this means that there's something for each person here. The historical medical part of the corporation additionally method that the products are certified extraordinary. Furthermore, while a few clients may also locate the fees of some ZenSleep merchandise to be prohibitive, the number of bundles makes ZenSleep properly well worth investigating for the ones in want of snoring answer.

Pros:

style of options

scientific quality

correct for oral and nostril

gives aids for snorers and others

Cons:

The Sequel - 900

Food Blog

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“What are you doing? What is that sound?”

“I’m cutting limes into wedges for the tacos but I’m trying to cut them on a plate because my butcher block and cutting board are both covered in veggies, so every time the knife hits the plate it makes that terrible sound.”

“That’s a lot of vegetables.”

“I’m drowning in avocado and red onion.”

“Want me to let you go?”

“No. I miss you. I missed your voice. You never call me.”

“The phone works both ways, cariña.”

“Actually I do need to get off. I just don’t want to. Can I call you during the dinner? I’m not gonna sit out there and make it weird.”

“Text me 30 minutes ahead of time and it’s a date.”

“K.”

“Bye, baby girl.”

“Later.”

Okay, two pans worth of onions and peppers ready to go. Sweet potato cubes ready to go. Avocado cream drizzle just needs a squeeze of one of these limes. Rice is cooking. Black beans are on the stove ready to fire. Pico needs to be mixed. Cilantro is chopped and covered. And gross. Still need to slice avocados, but that can wait ‘til closer to dinner. Need to cut some for the guacamole too. Red onion, check. I know I said I’d do a version of the avocado cream with cashew cream instead of yogurt but I’m too lazy. What else? Christina wiped her hands on a towel and looked around her kitchen, which was organized chaos.

Grilled steaks and fish were out. Taco Night was in. She told André his team dinner menu was impractical, because everyone likes their steak and their salmon cooked differently and it would be difficult to make sure everyone got what they liked if two people were trying to bulk-grill all the food. Instead she furnished a list of ingredients that were heavier on the prep but much easier to actually cook. There was 7 pounds of spice-rubbed pork shoulder getting fork-tender in her slow cooker for the meat eaters, shrimp defrosting in the sink for the pescatarians, and spicy sweet potato and black beans for the vegetarians and vegans. They had flour and gluten-free corn tortillas. Everyone was covered, and most importantly, everyone could serve themselves and have exactly what they liked. Christina could put everything out on her island counter like a buffet and then be completely done with her hosting duties.

They’re supposed to be here in like half an hour, which means I have 15 minutes before I need to put anything in the oven. I’m taking a chip break, the rider decided upon completing her prep survey and checking the time. She grabbed the bag of whole wheat tortilla chips, ripped it open, and dumped the whole thing in a wooden salad bowl. Then she scraped the diced tomato and onion from her cutting board into a smaller bowl with finely chopped Serrano chile and some of the cilantro. She squeezed one of her lime wedges over it, sprinkled some salt on, and delicately mixed it all together. It seemed like she only stepped away from her chips and salsa for a couple of seconds- just enough time to open the refrigerator and get the bottle of Pellegrino- but André managed to get in there and start eating her snack.

“Do you need anymore help, pretty girl?” he asked with his mouth full. He’d been on the patio getting the space heater and the fire pit going. The extra folding table was already set up end to end with the glass one so that everyone could sit together, face to face, and he brought the dining room chairs out after promising he would make sure they didn’t get dirty. Before all that, he had to help in the kitchen.

“I think we’re good for now. I was just going to sit for a little.” Christina picked up the pico de gallo and the tortilla chips and walked away even as the player was trying to dip a chip. He followed her around to the other side of the big island and pulled a stool out for her so that they could have a break before the swarm of Bees arrived. On a scale from 1 to letting a 4-0 Revierderby lead slip, how pissed would she be if I asked her to finish making the guac before she sits down, he wondered. Then he felt the bag of ice wrapped to her ankle hit him in the knee as she climbed onto the tall seat and decided not to ask her to get up to make him more food. Christina had to ride and teach all day, and there was no rest for her between rushing home from the barn to see Lukas off with Zoe and Noah and beginning her vegetable cutting. She just changed her clothes, strapped on her ice, and went to work.

“Thanks for doing this,” André told her once he was in his own seat. She was gobbling chips.

“You can thank me by getting your shit sorted out and winning some games.”

“On it.”

“Can you make sure the puppies don’t get too much people food?”

“Where are you going to be?”

“I’m making myself a burrito bowl and hiding upstairs.”

“Why?”

“I’m not part of the squad. You guys should be alone to talk out whatever you’re gonna talk out. Believe me, I’m perfectly fine eating dinner in bed and watching TV all night.”

“I have a gift for you that I wasn’t going to give you yet, but maybe you could use it tonight.”

“I like gifts.”

“I’ll go get it.” The player scooped some chunky salsa for the road, but paused to kiss his girl’s cheek before getting down from his stool. Christina pushed both bowls away while she chewed her last crunchy whole wheat triangle. She didn’t want to ruin her appetite. The pork smelled amazing. She had designs on pigging out, having a long chat about nothing with Juan in bed, and passing out. Lukas was having his first sleepover and his dad vowed to do all the cleanup from the dinner. There was no reason to have to do anything else for the rest of the night. She hoped the gift was a holiday candle, or an interesting face mask, a cozy blanket, or maybe, if she were really lucky, an air popper. Popcorn and a movie sounded great. But André came back with a long, slim box wrapped in chrome paper and tied with a burgundy velvet bow. It definitely wasn’t big enough to be an air popper.

“I can tell you didn’t wrap it,” the rider smiled once the box was in her hands.

“I paid the extra €5 to have it wrapped for Christmas! Open.” A sneaky smirk lurked behind the unusual humility with which he presented the present. Normally he openly salivated in anticipation of the response. He watched her tug the pretty bow loose and carefully place the ribbon on the counter. It was nice enough to keep. The top and bottom of the box were actually wrapped separately, so she didn’t need to tear the heavy duty paper. Before lifting the lid, she shook the box and asked if it was a dragon. André said it was not, and apologized for that.

“Okay, let’s see...” Christina plucked the top off the box and immediately recognized her gift as a sex toy. It was an unmistakably phallic wand with bulbous top after a pinched in bit at one end. It was smooth black silicone, just as she asked for. The length of it was plain- tapered at the tip and a little narrowed in the middle. It was not intimidatingly big or disappointingly small. The proportions were just right, like her other toys.

“It’s rechargeable, bendy, and self-heating. How nice is that?” her partner asked like a salesman. “I think it has 10 different vibrations.”

“Thanks, babe,” his wife chuckled. She then bit her lip, but it wasn’t a shy gesture. It was more like she was trying not to laugh.

“Do you like it? Try bending it. It’s probably not charged yet so I don’t know if it turns on.”

“I definitely like it. I’m just...” Christina snorted and couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you really want me to be using this upstairs while you’re outside having crisis talks with the guys? Isn’t that weird? Who does that? Who is like, “Oh, there’s a dinner party happening at my house but I’m not really part of it so I’ll just go masturbate”?”

“Why would I care? Now that you mention it, it might actually be kind of sexy to think about that- To know what you’re doing. I for sure would know what we’re doing together when everyone leaves! It’s supposed to be very quiet, by the way.” He watched her lift the toy from the box and investigate its flexibility. It was a solid thing, so it took some effort to bend it. It held whatever curve one shaped it to. “I think you’re supposed to use that big part for your clit. That’s why it bends. To make it more comfortable to hold, I guess.”

“You did good. I’m very interested in this self-heating business.” Seriously, he’s good at picking out vibrators. He’s three for three, she realized. I can’t wait to try this. I have a phone date with Juanin. It’s like my stars have aligned! Except that would be particularly cruel wouldn’t it? Break in the new vibrator boyfriend gave me with Juan instead? While boyfriend is home, even?

“Go plug it in in the bedroom so it’s charged up for later.”

“Okay,” she laughed. Things had really changed. There was no way she would be so relaxed in a conversation about a sex toy with André when they first got together. It had become just a regular thing, or a funny one. She pulled the USB cord out of its indented place in the packaging to make sure she wouldn’t need scissors to free it, and then took everything upstairs. Just holding the device- feeling the silicone texture, and the weight of it, and the hardness under the surface- was kind of exciting. She thought to check the tiny user manual to see if it indicated how long it took to charge. There was always the possibility of trying it out and then eating dinner. Especially when she discovered that it was already fully charged. She went up through the different speeds and vibration patterns, and turned on the heating feature. The device took about as long as a curling iron to warm to a sort of humanlike temperature. It wasn’t going to burn anything. I’m gonna take a picture of it and text it to Juanin with my 30 minutes notice.

André helped with the food when his party caterer returned. He was in charge of dredging the shrimp in chili powder, cayenne, salt, pepper, and cumin, and skewering them for the grill grate on Christina’s gas range. Having 6 burners, a grill, and a griddle made the range her favorite feature in the whole house. She gushed over it to people all the time, like her mother-in-law. This made André feel very proud. His dad once told him that one of the most important things a man can do for his partner is flatter her with the finest kitchen appliances. He’d enlisted his son’s help in choosing a new toaster oven for Luise, and his teenage son had no interest or patience for walking around the store and comparing all the toasters. A toaster was a toaster. The wisdom stuck with him though, because his mom was thrilled with the eventual choice. She was happy for days, and used it to make things she normally would have put in the regular oven. And her happiness was tied to who gave her the very nice, extremely expensive, top quality toaster oven. Thus “he who provides his wife with the finest goods for her kitchen is the most accomplished man” was ingrained in André and set out as a future goal. When he met girls that made him smile, he tried to imagine their future response when he was able to give them the best appliances money can buy. Doubt was cast upon a budding relationship if he decided the girl probably wouldn’t care that much.

Christina loved having two ovens and a separate broiler too. She had three sheet pans of vegetables going in there while she made the guacamole and started setting out serving dishes and plates and bowls and utensils on the island. They did get the holiday decorations out the night before but never actually started the decorating, except in the kitchen. The rider filled her glass fruit bowl with white, silver, glittery, and disco-ball like tree ornaments, and put two staggered height pillar candles in there with them. It sat on the raised part of the island with the stemless wine glass and the carafe full of Cabernet Franc. André teased her about how unnecessary it was to decant wine for that specific dinner “party”, and she countered with some excuse about how it made up for the fact that she was wearing skinny track pants and a sweatshirt.

“The onions and peppers go on the long platter so that they’re not all piled up and steaming themselves,” she told him when he grabbed the plate in question with the intention of using it for the trio of cheeses.

“You know how we’ve been talking about what you want to do next with your career, and what else you want to try? You should do something with cooking, pretty girl,” the footballer suggested somewhere between kidding and thoughtful.

“Like what? A YouTube channel?”

“Or a blog. I don’t know. You’re so good at this.” Who else thinks about the shape of the plate and the effect it has on the food? Oooh, people must be here.

“Your phone is ringing.”

“I hear.”

Christina didn’t have much time to consider the suggestion. The embattled Bees arrived in a steady stream of calls and texts seeking passage through the security gate and guidance on where to park. André handled that, and his wife handled transferring food to the appropriate plates and dishes, shredding the pork, grilling the shrimp, warming and setting out the tortillas, showing the guys where to find different drinks, and accepting cheek kisses and compliments on her spread. She did in fact make herself a big bowl of rice, savory carnitas, cotija, cheddar jack, pico de gallo, and shredded lettuce before announcing to the 30 footballers milling about her home that “the buffet” was open, and she did take it straight upstairs. Spencer and Lucky were invited to join her but they were much too interested in running around to sniff all the strangers. She put the bowl on André’s nightstand because it was the closest to the door, went in her dressing room to take her pants, sweatshirt, and bra off, and was then surprised to hear her partner in life and in food prep call her name questioningly from said door.

“What do you need, babe?” she asked, leaning out of her closet and looking toward the adjacent doorway.

“Thank you so much for taking care of everything,” the blonde forward said. He walked over to give her a smooch. “Love you.”

“Welcome.” His girl smiled inside and out. It’s very nice to be appreciated, she thought. Even if it’s for something he shouldn’t have sprang on me in the first place. He’s been very helpful and he gave me a really nice new vibrator so I guess it’s all okay. “If I hear a riot, I’ll call the police, mm?”

“Sounds good.” André gave her another kiss, on the forehead, to close out his hit and run, and went to get some food and take his place at the table outside.

I’m gonna eat and watch TV and then I’ll call the Spanish Teddy Bear. I’ll give him his heads up now. I think I should save my gift for later with boyfriend though, especially if he doesn’t finish this dinner with a good feeling about the team. I can make him feel better, or distract him at least. I’d be such a ho if I christened the new vibrator with somebody else. That’s ungrateful ho shit. But I’m still gonna send the picture to Juanin because I’m a tease like that. I miss the fuck out of that boy, Christina thought as she got settled under the black satin quilt and chose a jersey pillow to serve as her lap table. Schü was right yesterday. I did want his attention. I want anybody’s attention. Sometimes it really sucks to be here with him while he’s in a bad mood, or he’s really busy, or wants to do stuff alone all the time, when I know there is someone in London who is desperate to hang with me, and be fun, or even just be with me on the couch. It makes me miss Juanin even more than I always do. Plus I want to complain to him every day about how angry I am that we moved here for Dortmund and Dortmund just keeps getting worse, and I mean as a whole situation, not just results. It’s been nothing but bad for us. I want boyfriend to be happy. He was happy one night when he scored an equalizer against Real Madrid and he was semi-happy when they won the league cup. That’s it in a year and a half. The rest he’s hurt, not playing, or losing. This pork came out soooooooo good. What did Teddy Bear say? The rider rested her fork in the oversized salad bowl and lifted her iPhone off the pillow to read the Chelsea midfielder’s response to her photo.

“Do you give it a name?”

“No. I’m not that girl.”

“See if it fits in your butt.”

“Not that girl either.”

“Your Christmas wish list is weird this year.”

“I’m that girl that asks for a new vibrator and secondhand sweatpants.”

“One of a kind.”

“Do you think I could be that girl who does cooking tutorials on the YouTubez? Or nah?”

“I think you can be any girl you want. That would be a big project though. We’ll talk about it when you call?”

“K. See you in 30.”

Christina wrote one more text, to Zoe, before fully resuming her burrito bowl grazing. The text breaks were actually important because they prevented her from inhaling the food too quickly, as she was prone to do. She asked Zoe how dinner went and if Lukas wanted to talk to her or Face Time or anything before bed. Zoe said she was letting the boys stay up until Noah’s regular bedtime, a bit later than Lukas’, and that they were playing with action figures and watching Toy Story. Lukas’ mom was really looking forward to introducing him to some classic Christmas movies. His dad told her to pace herself and not overdose on Christmas too soon and run out of Christmas stuff. André told Lukas a different story. He told him it was going to be wall to wall Christmas, for weeks, and that they were going to help Mommy have the best Christmas ever. Of course, that was before he forgot their tree shopping date- the very first part of the holiday season.

Her 30 minutes of dinner, CNBC Europe, and getting upset about geopolitics went quickly. Juan called right on time. He was on his couch with a blanket, his MacBookPro, and a to-do list of images to make for the restaurant’s Christmas menu announcements to be posted on social media. His faraway friend shared André’s stunted idea about doing some sort of cooking or food blog.

“What do you think? Should I do long pithy posts and funny videos with cool recipes?”

“I think you should ride. You just told me the thing you want to do is ride and win. You know you can’t do it as well as you used to if you take on too many other things. Make riding your focus. You haven’t found the same kind of motivation again yet. I’m afraid if you stray now, you may not get it back,” the Spaniard testified with logic and levelness, and most importantly, keen interest. “Not too many days ago you got very upset- furious, even- and then very unhappy about a mistake from hours earlier that you had already dismissed as meaningless.”

“Well it didn’t bother me that much when it first happened,” the rider shot back, referring to a miscalculation she made in the ring in Doha on her Winter Soldier. It cost them a rail in the second round of the Champions League finale. She walked out of the ring shaking her head at Daniel, who was already saying the name of the sponsor on the jump. But then she just shrugged and said it wasn’t a big deal, and that riding the approach to that fence differently could have resulted in a knockdown anyway. Hours and hours later, at a corner table at the jazz club, Christina worked herself almost to tears of condemnation for not doing better in the tack, and being smarter, and above all else, for acting like her mistake didn’t matter. She hated letting herself off that way. The attitude disgusted her when she was able to look back on it. “It just gnawed at me whenever I re-rode the class in my head.”

“It gnawed at you because you were careless, it cost you, and you pretended not to care to protect yourself from being disappointed. I don’t know how you never learn that doing that to yourself- trying to put off the disappointment- just makes it worse when you finally let it in. You used to always face everything head-on, cariña,” Juan practically whined. He was always lamenting the disappearance of that quality in her.

“I know.”

“Don’t load up your schedule with other commitments again,” he reiterated, voice lowered, intensity dialed up. “Work on your horses, on your body, and your relationships. The mind takes care of itself when you do that. You’ll be happiest when your horses are performing their best, you feel good physically, and you spend lots of time having fun and relaxing with your family and friends.”

“Okay.”

“I know you’re looking for things that help keep you sane and happy, so that you can ride with a clear head.”

“Yeah. I just keep thinking that maybe more non-horse hobbies would help with that,” Christina shrugged before rolling over onto her side and pulling her blanket up.

“I get it,” her absentee teddy bear affirmed, emphatic. “I just believe you’re better off making your relationships your hobbies. I don’t want to sound selfish when I say this, but the time you use for writing a food blog or something is time you aren’t spending with Lukas, or André, or your girlfriends, or me. For you, and I think for me too, the most important thing is to be with my friends and family. Then it doesn’t matter what we do- it’s always fun, or relaxing. Don’t launch a video account and teach people how to make lasagna two ways. Just cook something with Lukas. Come here and cook with me in a professional kitchen. You get what I’m saying?”

“Yes. But I’m gonna be real honest. What if I go 100% No Holds Barred Show Jumping All-Star and I’m still making dumb mistakes and my instincts are still bad? At least when I’m not 100% committed I can keep telling myself I’m not at the top because I’m not trying that hard. I’m really and truly afraid that my best- No- That Dirk’s best, for example- isn’t good enough anymore.” Phew. Got that out, Christina thought, applauding herself. It was hard for her to air real fears and insecurities. What she said could never be for Tom’s ears, for example, because it would jeopardize the footing her whole working persona was built on. Her whole professional existence was staked on confidence and an unyielding belief in her horses and their supremacy over the others. To let anyone see her doubts in them or herself would feel like a violation of her very being. But it was a petit, intelligent, and understanding Chelsea midfielder that she was speaking to, and he could learn anything about her without changing his belief in her.

“You have to find out, cariña,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation. His immediate reactions were so valuable to her, because they were instinctive and real. He didn’t take the time to think about what she said and then take care to qualify his response so as not to upset her, or to deliberately manipulate her in some way. Sometimes André’s ponderous nature on matters of consequence that he didn’t fully comprehend from the get-go read as strategizing and made the eventual reply feel a bit contrived. “You find out the answer as quick as you can, and if it’s the wrong answer then you go to work to fix it. If your best isn’t good enough anymore, you make a new best. And don’t even try to argue that because I know you believe too that’s how it should be.”

“I do agree on that,” she chuckled, amused by his forcefulness. “It’s daunting though. I don’t want to feel like Stevie G.”

“I really don’t think you need to be worrying about that. Your 80% is better than most riders’ 110% right now. Get back to the hundred and you’ll be the best again. Use getting to the hundred as inspiration and motivation to get the extra 10% you used to unleash in big moments to shock everyone. I would love to see this.”

“Thanks. You have a way of making me feel better about myself by making me feel bad about myself.” That is the clearest way I’ve ever been able to put The Juan Effect into words! By George, I’ve got it!

“You’re welcome? I guess?”

“I would hug you so hard right now if I were in London.”

“Have you ever had shaved octopus?”

“Is that food or like a sex thing?”

“Food, cariña.” Juan’s eye-roll was audible over the line. He was calm again after getting a little excited there about self-improvement and reaching for top. Christina could hear his typing and taps on the computer resume too.

“So like octopus carpaccio?”

“Yes.”

“Come on. You know the answer to that.”

“You should try.”

“What else is on the holiday menu?”

“My mum’s slow roast lamb, and Spanish bread pudding.”

“Sign. Me. Up. Are you having Christmas dinner at home or at the restaurant?”

“Home! The whole family will be here with me Christmas Eve to eat.”

“Good. That’s how it should be. Are they all staying for Boxing Day football again? I didn’t even look at the fixtures yet. Are you home or away?”

“Home, against Brighton. Most of the family is coming. I’m saving a ticket for my girlfriend though, in case she decides at the last minute to come to her favorite match of the season.”

“Do you want me to?” she questioned in a small voice after a brief pause to be touched by the player’s sweetness. “Or are you just looking out for my love of Boxing Day at Stamford Bridge?”

“If you’re asking is it important to me that you come for that game? No, not especially. I know you love the atmosphere with all the kids. I always want to see you though.”

“That’s very sweet. Lemme ask you this though- which do you want more- for me to come over that morning for the football and stay one night while your family is there, or...for me to come the morning of New Year’s Eve, and stay for a party and the associated hungover lie-in on New Year’s Day?”

“Is “both” an option?” the Spanish footballer laughed. Christina said it was not. “Would you really come for New Year’s?” he asked with more sincerity in his lilt. “I thought you wanted to be at home?”

“I do. Home is as much with you in London as it is here.” THERE’S a truth I’m willing to confront head-on. For better or for worse.

“Come home whenever you want, baby girl,” Juan sighed with something like muted satisfaction. There was a softness in his voice too, which the primary listener found deeply comforting and personalized for her. “If you’d rather come for a party than football, or if you want to be alone together the next morning instead of surrounded by nosy Spanish people, either is okay with me.”

“Let me think about it, okay?” She pushed and pulled idly at the “stuffing” in her satin quilt to make it fit evenly in its square instead of bunched up in half of it. It was one of her favorite blankets but it was impossible to prevent that bunching problem. No amount of shaking it out helped. It drove her nuts whenever she let herself think about it for too long. Luckily she wasn’t really thinking about it while she tried to fix it. She was thinking over André’s potential reaction to either London visit. The New Year’s one was something on the fringes of her mind for a few days already. It was amplified a little the previous morning when she found the pretty and romantic red party dress in her closet. The flared Gazar silk skirt, with its organza underpinnings, was a touch dramatic for her, and it begged to bounce and twirl at a glamorous celebration.  

“Mhm.”

“Hang on a second. I have a message.”

“Come downstairs. We’re going to have dessert. Schmelle brought you an Oreo cheesecake as a thank you,” Christina read on the screen.

“I’ve been summoned downstairs. I’ll call you back?”

“I’ll be here.”

Pointless Research: Twilight Vampires

When one paces around their room for a good thirty minutes thinking about how dumb Twilight’s vampires are while listening to Beyonce and Nikki sing about being flawless, one must seriously consider stepping back and evaluating what events lead them to that moment in their life. Unfortunately for this dear website, I was inspired. Inspired to put those research skills that I have been developing in school, and have used almost solely for school, to use and do several hours of pointless research on a topic that has not been cool since 2013.

I’m going to a perfectly honest right now, I did not expect to end up writing solely about Twilight vampires. I had planned to talk about a couple of things and then link them to some folklore or talk about other pop culture vampires and maybe even talk about the realities of vampires and how a vampire might actually work in the real world. It was going to be pretty rad. But no, I dove into a wormhole that I genuinely had not expected. That is not to say I don’t plan to write about this topic in more detail in the future but I can not help but feel that this piece is going to be way to long as it is because, oh my goodness, this subject is way more confusing than I thought. 

If you were going to write about vampires from a preteen supernatural romance series, where would you start? Well, I’ll tell you where a grown woman with way too much time on her hands starts, the Twilight Saga wiki. Quite frankly, I did not feel like wading through a lot of needless information when someone has already condensed all the information down into articles about the very topic I was interested in. So, let me tell you what the Twilight Saga wiki page, entitled “Vampire,” said about these creatures.

In the first paragraph on page, a vampire is defined as “immortal beings who feed and survive on the blood of humans or animals.” And, you know, this definition isn’t crazy. It sounds like basically every other vampire ever but later in the section on history is says the following:

“Vampires are unharmed by garlic, holy items, or wooden stakes; they have reflections and shadows, and are able to walk freely in the sunlight without being physically damaged by it.”

Um.. What? Is that not basically everything that our standard vampire is harmed by? Given the definition that this universe uses to define a vampire and the fact that they are not weak to anything that other vampires are weak to, it is really a questions of what exactly these vampires are.

Beside being immortal and drinking blood, the following are all characteristics of Twilight’s vampires according to the Twilight wiki. 

Drinking human blood turns a vampire’s irises a red color while drinking the blood of an animal leads to the irises a golden color.

“Due to the crystalline properties of their cells, when a vampire is exposed to sunlight, their body will sparkle like diamonds.”

These vampires not only have super strength and speed but also super senses; sight, smell, and hearing are all mentioned.

They do not age and their hair and nails do not grow but if a limb is somehow removed it can be reattached with their venom.

Magic vampire venom. I’ll not even joking, this is a major plot device that we seriously need to talk about.

They, apparently, have 25 pairs of chromosomes while a normal human has 23 pairs of chromosomes. This, again, is not a joke and we are definitely talking about this and it’s lack of use in this series. 

So, this is a Twilight vampire. A vampire has 25 pairs of chromosomes, magic plot device venom, cells that have crystalline properties, and eyes that change color based on diet. But is this even remotely reasonable? You probably already know the answer because, you know, I’ve said the words magic venom more than once in the last couple of paragraphs but I’m going to spend several more pages talking about this anyway.

Why? Because chromosomes are pretty freaking rad and I am genuinely upset that magic venom is a thing in that universe when Meyer had access to something way cooler and far more believable and did not even bring it up until the last book.

So, what is a chromosome? Why am I so hyped about this? And why is it way better than whatever the heck caused Renesmee to be a thing. (Besides the need to have another book instead of just tying the series up with Eclipse.) Let’s answer that first question and then see where that takes us.

The National Human Genome Research Institute says the following about chromosomes:

“Chromosomes are thread-like structures located inside the nucleus of animal and plant cells. Each chromosome is made of protein and a single molecule of deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA). Passed from parents to offspring, DNA contains the specific instructions that make each type of living creature unique.”

So, chromosome are located in cells and house DNA but not just small amounts of the stuff. The same article states that if all the DNA inside of one cell were to be remove, unwound, and  lined up end to end, that line would be nearly six feet long. That’s one cell. We literally have millions of cells in our body, just take a moment to think about that.

Okay, but why does having two extra pairs of chromosomes matter to our marble-like friends? Because that is a lot more genetic possibilities. The National Center for Biotechnology Information and the U.S. National Library of Medicine have a really interesting chromosome map for different diseases that a human may develop over time or be born with. According to this map, chromosome six has five different diseases associated with genes located on that chromosomes; this include both diabetes and epilepsy. So when I say that vampires have two extra pairs of chromosomes, that is not something to laugh at. These guys are a risk of getting some diseases that don’t even exist yet and I don’t see Edward becoming a genetic researcher anytime soon.

But these extra chromosomes may not be all bad and might actually be why vampires are like they are. In fact, everything else I’m about to write about can be explained away by simply saying “Oh, but they have two additional pairs of chromosomes so, who knows, it might be possible.” Which it actually crazy! Meyer could have gone all X-Men on us and we wouldn’t even be able to argue because we are talking about some chromosomes that don’t exist in our world! In fact, I’m about to prove that because crystalline properties. Seriously, some of the characters in X-Men had some crystalline properties and we can’t argue because mutations.

Nevertheless, let us have some fun and talk about these crystalline properties anyway. By saying something has crystalline properties I am going to assume we are talking about crystalline solids. A neat little webpage I found describes crystalline solids pretty well:

“Crystalline solids are those in which the atoms, ions, or molecules that make up the solid exist in a regular, well-defined arrangement.”

Seems simple enough, except no, there are four different types of crystalline solids; ionic, molecular, covalent network, and metallic. And given that ionic solids are super brittle, molecular solids have low melting points, and that Edward does not seem to be made of metal, we are going to say that the crystalline solid that Twilight’s vampires are made of is an covalent network solid. Which is pretty weird because that is the same category diamonds and silicon dioxide. And I’m going to be frank here, I don’t really see flexible diamonds roaming around in the wild and that is because of the covalent bonds that make up these solids.

Covalent bonds are those formed when two atoms share valence electrons rather than transfer those electrons. These types of bonds are pretty freaking strong because of this and makes the solids created incredibly hard and not very malleable. So, how are vampires not just stones and are, in fact, moving creatures? Well, the answer that the wiki provides is vampire venom and because magic vampire venom seems to be the answer to a lot of questions regarding how Twilight vampires work, we should really talk about this.

Going back to the wiki, the page on vampire venom is ridiculously short and weirdly vague when you consider how big of a spot it holds in the plot of this series. In fact, the article on vampires gave more information about this venom than the article on venom. Nevertheless, I’m going to show you just how big a plot device this venom is: 

“...[I]f an arm, leg, nose, or other such appendage should be removed, albeit painfully, it can be easily reattached. Vampire venom is noted to be the only thing that scars a vampire. Since the venom is adhesive, coating the severed end with it will help it heal faster.”

“The venom, and venom based liquids replace all of the natural chemical processes and functions in the body. It wets and pools in the mouth instead of saliva. It coats the eyes, burning through contacts after only a few hours, protecting them from damage and thus eliminating all necessity and reason to produce tears. It also lubricates them, allowing them to move around more easily within their sockets. A similar venom based liquid lubricates between the vampires cells allowing their hard stone bodies to move.”

This one may make some people uncomfortable: “Requiring little or no change to produce sperm, males can still breed… In male vampires, the venom takes on a form so similar to seminal fluid that it can bond with a human ovum, making possible the creation of a human-vampire hybrid. The underlying biochemistry and physiology is currently unknown.” 

For those who were not comfortable reading that last one and for more emphasis about how insane this venom is, that last sentence actually said that “[t]he underlying biochemistry and physiology is currently unknown.” That means that not only did Edward never become a genetic researcher but no one was remotely curious about this and decided to become any sort of researcher which is crazy because they are immortal. I’m pretty sure that taking a few decades out of your immortal life to learn more about your kind is not that big of a deal.

Nevertheless, you see the problem here; this venom is a crazy plot device that makes more questions than it answers. And if you want even more proof, the following was found on the webpage about the venom:

“Real werewolves are the only known species to be completely immune to vampire venom, whether in the painful or transformative departments.”

I’m not kidding, this is a dumb plot device. I’m sorry, I just can’t understand why Meyer chose to make magic venom the answer to everything.

As I said before, there is a much better answer to how the vampires in Twilight work; chromosomes. While I understand that this last part feels pretty rant-filled, I want people to understand why I find this so incredible; when an author is creating a world and the creatures that inhabit that world that author can not just say that something is the answer to everything without helping the reader understand why. In truth, I have read this series before; it was several years ago but I still read it and I honestly don’t remember the chromosome thing, that is how little Meyer thought it mattered. However, the reality is that if some of those vampires would bother with science we would probably not be told that the magic venom it the answer to everything and would probably have a much more viable biological understanding of them.

End of pointless research rant-paper-thing.

Now, I want to say something. I know that a lot of people could not care less about the genetics of a vampire but, like I said, this ended up being way more involved than I thought it would be. Given that, thanks for reading this far. I really do hope to do more stuff of a similar vein in the future so if anyone wants to give me some ideas or just let me know how to improve, I would be appreciate it.