#Gas Mixtures Market

[electronalytics]

Gas Mixtures Market Analysis, Research, Outlook & Forecast till 2033

Gas Mixtures Market is expected value, which was USD 42.65 billion in 2023, would rocket up to USD 74.79 billion by 2033. undergo a CAGR of 5.94% during the forecast period 2024-2033

The competitive analysis of the Gas Mixtures Market offers a comprehensive examination of key market players. It encompasses detailed company profiles, insights into revenue distribution, innovations within their product portfolios, regional market presence, strategic development plans, pricing strategies, identified target markets, and immediate future initiatives of industry leaders. This section serves as a valuable resource for readers to understand the driving forces behind competition and what strategies can set them apart in capturing new target markets.

Market projections and forecasts are underpinned by extensive primary research, further validated through precise secondary research specific to the Gas Mixtures Market. Our research analysts have dedicated substantial time and effort to curate essential industry insights from key industry participants, including Original Equipment Manufacturers (OEMs), top-tier suppliers, distributors, and relevant government entities.

The key scope of a market research report typically includes:

Market Overview: This section gives a general understanding of the market, including its size, growth rate, and key dynamics influencing it. It provides a snapshot of the market's current state.

Market Segmentation: It delves into the various segments within the market. This includes categorizing the market based on factors such as product type, application, geography, consumer demographics, etc.

Industry Analysis: For reports focused on specific industries, there is a detailed analysis of that particular industry. This includes trends, challenges, opportunities, and key players.

Competitive Landscape: A critical part of the report, this section analyzes the competitive environment within the market, outlining key players, their market shares, strategies, and strengths.

Market Trends and Forecast: Based on historical data and current market trends, this section forecasts future market behavior, projecting growth, challenges, and opportunities. It might also include predictions for emerging trends.

Consumer Insights: Understanding consumer behavior and preferences is essential. This section may include data on consumer buying patterns, motivations, and attitudes.

Regulatory Environment: In industries subject to regulations, compliance and regulatory factors are detailed to understand the impact on the market.

Technological Trends: An analysis of technological advancements relevant to the market or industry and their impact on the products, services, or consumer behavior.

Receive the FREE Sample Report of Gas Mixtures Market Research Insights @ https://stringentdatalytics.com/sample-request/gas-mixtures-market/13367/

Market Segmentations:

Global Gas Mixtures Market: By Company • Advanced Specialty Gases (U.S.) • Air Liquide (France) • Linde Plc (Ireland) • Messer (Germany) • Matheson Tri-Gas, Inc. (U.S.) • Air Products Inc. (U.S.) • AGC Inc. (Japan) • Praxair Technology, Inc. (U.S.) • Hangzhou Hangyang CO. LTD (China) • Guangdong Huate Gas Co.,Ltd (China) • SCG (Thailand) • Taiyo Nippon Sanso Corporation (Japan) • Airgas Inc, (U.S.) • Gulf Cryo (United Arab Emirates) • Yingde Gases Group (China • Air Products and Chemicals Inc. (U.S.) • Universal Industrial Gases Inc, (USA) • Axcel Gases (U.S.) • International Industrial Gases Ltd (India) • SOL Group (Italy) Global Gas Mixtures Market: By Mixture • Oxygen Mixtures • Nitrogen Mixtures • Carbon Dioxide Mixtures • Argon Mixtures • Hydrogen Mixtures • Specialty Gas Mixtures • Others Global Gas Mixtures Market: By End User • Metal Manufacturing and Fabrication • Chemicals • Medical and Healthcare • Electronics • Food and Beverages • Others

Regional Analysis of Global Gas Mixtures Market

All the regional segmentation has been studied based on recent and future trends, and the market is forecasted throughout the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Global Gas Mixtures market report are U.S., Canada, and Mexico in North America, Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe in Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, Rest of Asia-Pacific (APAC) in the Asia-Pacific (APAC), Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa (MEA) as a part of Middle East and Africa (MEA), and Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America as part of South America.

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[sramfact]

The report "Gas Mixtures Market by Mixture Type (O2, N2, Co2, AR, H2, and Specialty Gas), End-Use Industry (Chemical, Medical & Healthcare, Food & Beverage, Electronics), Storage & Distribution Mode (Tonnage, Merchant Liquid), & Region - Global Forecast to 2020", the gas mixtures market size is estimated to grow from USD 28.20 Billion in 2015 to USD 36.76 Billion by 2020, at a CAGR of 5.44%. Factors such as increasing demand for electronic products and growing demand from the healthcare sector drive the gas mixtures market. However, high equipment costs and intricate manufacturing processes act as a restraint for the market. Growth of the chemical industry in the developing and under-developed regions provides an opportunity to the gas mixtures market to grow even further.

The metal manufacturing & fabrication segment is projected to be the fastest-growing end-use industry in the next five years. Furthermore, due to the growth of the metal fabrication industry, gas mixtures such as oxygen mixtures, carbon dioxide mixtures, and hydrogen mixtures are extensively used to enhance the arc characteristics or facilitate metal transfer in gas metal arc welding. The gas mixtures market is also projected to witness growth in the medical & healthcare, food & beverage, and chemicals sectors, during the forecast period.

The report defines and segments the global gas mixtures market on the basis of mixtures, end-use industries, manufacturing process, storage, distribution, and transportation, and region along with providing an in-depth analysis and market size estimations. The hydrogen gas mixtures is estimated to contribute the largest market share whereas, oxygen mixtures, at the highest CAGR, will play a key role in changing the gas mixtures landscape during the forecast period.

The merchant liquid distribution mode is projected to account for the largest market share in the gas mixtures market. Verticals such as tonnage distribution and cylinder & packaged distribution will be key growing distribution modes during the forecast period. The report also covers the geographic markets of gas mixtures. North America is estimated to have the largest market share, while Asia-Pacific is projected to grow at the highest CAGR from 2015 to 2020. The major vendors in the gas mixtures market include Linde Ag (Germany), Praxair Inc. (U.S.), Air Liquide S.A. (France), Airgas Inc.(U.S.) , Taiyo Nippon Sanso Corporation (Japan), Air Products and Chemicals Inc. (U.S.), and Iwatani Corporation (Japan).

[secretmellowblog]

On the subject of the Titanic ‘submersible’ that was lost in the deep with all its wealthy tourists— it’s so insane/eerie in hindsight to read this article from the Smithsonian that interviews the CEO Stockton Rush long before the disaster.

Despite the Smithsonian supposedly being an organization that cares about science and truth, and the fact that there were SO MANY obvious red flags from the beginning and so many people criticizing the company…..the article is a puff piece uncritically glorifying the CEO’s obviously terrible submersible project. It compares him in glowing terms to Elon Musk. It is an article about how private ventures like those of Stockton Rush and Elon Musk can and should be the future of the world.

We’ve obviously learned now that there were whistleblowers at the company who were warning for a long time that Stockton Rush’s submersible was unsafe— only to be fired and then sued. It makes sense the submersible was so unsafe, because the CEO in this interview is open about how he has no background in underwater engineering and is annoyed by quote “regulations that needlessly prioritize passenger safety.”

Soon after, the private [submersible] market died too, Rush found, for two reasons that were “understandable but illogical.” First, subs gained a reputation for danger. Working on offshore rigs in harsh locations like the North Sea, saturation divers, who breathe gas mixtures to avoid diving sicknesses, would be taken in subs to work at great depths. It was the world’s most perilous job, with frequent fatalities. (“It wasn’t the sub’s fault,” says Rush.) To save lives, the industries moved toward using underwater robots to perform the same work.

Second, tourist subs, which could once be skippered by anyone with a U.S. Coast Guard captain’s license, were regulated by the Passenger Vessel Safety Act of 1993, which imposed rigorous new manufacturing and inspection requirements and prohibited dives below 150 feet. The law was well-meaning, Rush says, but he believes it needlessly prioritized passenger safety over commercial innovation (a position a less adventurous submariner might find open to debate). “There hasn’t been an injury in the commercial sub industry in over 35 years. It’s obscenely safe, because they have all these regulations. But it also hasn’t innovated or grown—because they have all these regulations.”

The fact that Stockton Rush (who was piloting the submarine when the disaster happened) is on record complaining about the evils of regulations that prioritize people’s safety, and the Smithsonian uncritically regurgitated that rhetoric in their glowing puff piece about how rich tycoons like Elon Musk and Stockton Rush are going to save the world is just…..in hindsight of how everything ended it’s just so much horrible black comedy? It’s like a satire about the dangers of uncritically worshipping the rich.

It is mentioned in the article that Rush chose to make his submersible in a different shape, and with a different (cheaper) material than is usually used for submersibles. The article frames this as a result of daring innovation, and not of negligence/ignorance. This passage in particular, which in context is supposed to portray Rush’s critics as joyless naysayers who were proven wrong by the noble tycoon, is pretty foreboding in hindsight:

Rush planned to pilot the sub himself, which critics said was an unnecessary risk: Under pressure, the experimental carbon fiber hull might, in the jargon of the sub world, “collapse catastrophically.”

And then!!

The exact problem that happened to Titan this weekend, happened on Titan’s very first test voyage to the Titanic! The experimental carbon fiber hull had an issue and it caused communications to break down!

The dive was going according to plan until about 10,000 feet, when the descent unexpectedly halted, possibly, Rush says, because the density of the salt water added extra buoyancy to the carbon fiber hull. He now used thrusters to drive Titan deeper, which interfered with the communications system, and he lost contact with the support crew. He recalls the next hour in hallucinogenic terms. “It was like being on the Starship Enterprise,” he says. “There were these particles going by, like stars. Every so often a jellyfish would go whipping by. It was the childhood dream.”

Both Rush and the article writer treat this as a fun quirky story, instead of a serious safety failure and red flag with his experimental macgyvered regulation-flaunting submersible.

Other highlights from the article include:

Stockton rush saying that if 3/4 of the planet is water, why haven’t we monetized it?

Stockton saying we will “colonize the ocean long before we colonize space”

Lots of weird pro colonialism stuff in general??? This article loves colonialism and thinks it’s cool

Rush saying he plans for this to eventually help find more underwater resources for the US to exploit and profit from

Elon musk comparisons. The article writer does not mention that Elon Musk’s rockets explode and therefore it would be a bad idea to get in one of them, because that would imply it’s a bad idea to get into the submersible

Stockton rush seeing himself as Captain Kirk

The article writer comparing the tourists who plan to join Rush to Englishmen who went on colonialist journeys to Africa as if that’s like, a good thing. So much pro colonialism stuff in this article

So many sentences about Stockton Rush being handsome when he literally just looks like some guy

The article beginning with an editor’s note from years later disclaiming that the extraordinary submersible they’re advertising in this article is uh. It’s now uhhhh

But yeah it really does just bring home how so many organizations that supposedly care about scientific truth or journalistic integrity are willing to uncritically platform propaganda for wealthy CEOS. It’s frustrating how easily people fall for the fake myths that careless wealthy people invent for themselves, and even more frustrating that supposedly respectable institutions will platform irresponsible lies that end up getting people killed.

Rush is such an obvious and simple example of this, and his negligence is “only” killing five people including himself. But to me it feels like a cautionary tale to bear in mind when it comes to uncritical puff piece media coverage of similar “daring tycoon innovations” by people like Bezos or Musk.

[seat-safety-switch]

The guy running the counter at the record store looks worried. No, terrified. A wild beast, struggling to escape a deathtrap in the moments before the cruel jaws bite. His feral terror is not caused by me, despite the fact that my dieseling Malaise Era Mopar is spitting out enough half-burned oil-gas-coolant-nitrous mixture to craze the polycarbonate anti-theft coating on the store's windows. No, he knows the humble record store is already well past its expected lifespan, and he's waiting for this job, perhaps the only good one of his entire life, to end.

In order to please the whims of capitalism, he must be sacrificed. Market forces are arrayed against his pleasurable, easygoing employment. It's not personal, just business. Eventually all of this, and I mean everything on this formerly-decrepit, now-hipsterized block, will be raptured into the cloud and we will never see its likes again. Here, now, we are here and it is now. I decide I'm going to buy a foreign-language pop album whose entire jacket is indecipherable to me.

"What kind of turntable do you have at home?" he asks, perking up at the presence of a vinyl-purchasing weirdo that doesn't look like the dictionary definition of "gentrifier."

"At home?"

As I peel away from the curb, leaving behind a cloud of microplastics and fine metals from the deep internals of my engine as I do, I pop the album onto my dashboard-mounted record player. The interior of the car becomes slightly more pleasant at a completely hieroglyphic pop ballad fights valiantly against the screeching of the main bearings evaporating.

Sure, a record player in your car is a lot more cumbersome than fixing the tape deck, but have you ever seen how many tiny gears and shit are in there? Just not worth it when you can instead break into the old, bankrupt, roller rink when the security guard is napping and steal a turntable and several pounds of copper speaker wire. New economy. Get used to it.

[anakinfests]

day two is here! check out these beautiful works!

day two twitter thread: here

01. Wants and Needs by anonymous

On a planet whose atmosphere is filled with a gas with... interesting side effects, Anakin and Obi-Wan are sent to take out a Separatist base. Fill for the Rough Sex square in the 2023 Obikin Bingo as well as a prompt claim for the Sub!Anakin Fest

02. Bare grace misery by anonymous

Anakin let out a pained sound. “I failed my men, I failed you, and now… and now this. Could you, Obi-Wan? Could you come from this humiliation?” His voice broke, and then he was weeping, hot tears streaming down his face even as he kept stroking himself, his sobs of shame intermingling with his whimpers of pleasure. The mixture was so unbelievably erotic Obi-Wan felt his head spin. Or: Anakin gets poisoned, and the antidote that saves his life has some uncomfortable side effects.

03. Serenity, Serenity by anonymous

After learning that the Separatists have gained the favor of a weapons manufacturer that has the power to overturn the Clone Wars, a freshly knighted Anakin and Master Obi-Wan must infiltrate the organization's inner circle and eliminate the partnership at an exclusive event posed as black market dealers. The problem is, the two of them have to act as a married couple, Anakin assuming the role of coy, submissive husband to a domineering and firm handed Obi-Wan. Between Anakin's not-so-subtle pining, Obi-Wan's suppressed emotions, and the fate of the Republic on the line, the two of them must confront their messy feelings for one another over a game of high-stakes, winner takes all sabacc.

04. Subakin and his Obi-Dom by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker was forever in denial. He could not admit, no sorry, would never accept he was a sub. No Never. He, the great and powerful Jedi Knight, was destined to be a dom, and he would not stop until his desires came to pass.

05. no fault of my own by anonymous

“You know you’re not supposed to like this,” Obi-Wan murmured, “and here you are, so wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you.” Anakin looked away, blinking back tears that threatened to well up in his eyes at his master’s disapproval, but he leaked more slick into his lap all the same. “I’m sorry, Master,” he quavered. “I can’t help it!”

06. En Garde, Prêt, Allez by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker is a highly skilled fencer, known for his fast pace and brutal attack style. Young and arrogant, he carries himself as a man who knows he's going to win - no matter the cost. Obi-Wan Kenobi is an equally talented fencer who has more titles and championships attached to his name than most could ever dream of, and who has the respect and admiration from everyone in the community. When the two are paired off against each other during the World Championships, Anakin is caught between wanting to prove himself and win the title, and not dethroning a man who has inspired him both on and off the piste. They say never meet your heroes - and certainly never kick their ass in front of a stadium full of their peers - but winning on the piste might bring more treasures and rewards to Anakin than he ever thought possible.

07. Who's Loving You by anonymous

Anakin Skywalker was the luckiest man alive. He had the relationship he had always desired. Well, almost.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 8 - You ready?

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Hi! Here we go...we're cooking with gas in this one. 🥵 Warnings for: sexual content, blood drinking/feeding, reader briefly in pain/discomfort. Hope you enjoy!

(Gif not necessarily reflective of what reader looks like!)

Bucky gently lowered you onto your bed and sat down beside you.

“I hope you mind if we’re in here. I would take you upstairs but I don’t exactly have a bed…” he laughed.

Your eyes widened. “You don’t have a bed?” you scoffed.

He laughed loudly at that. “Of course not. Steve and I sleep in coffins so no sunlight can get in just in case the window barricade fails. C’mon Doll, this isn’t your first day” he teased.

“Actual coffins?” you sputtered.

“Yes…” his tone was patient but you could see he was a bit exasperated. “Old school I know, but the clichés are sometimes clichés for a reason”.

You nodded dumbly, it made sense of course. They needed complete darkness in order to sleep through the daytime. And you’d never actually been up there to see it for yourself. You thought about Steve conveniently skipping that floor when you had the initial viewing. You just had just never really thought about what might be up there before.

Bucky smiled at you and caressed your cheek.

“Alright, you ready? You sure you’re still good to do this?” he asked softly.

You nodded again, swallowing down a mixture of anticipation and fear. You mindlessly rubbed your thighs together thinking about what waited ahead.

“Okay beautiful, lay back for me” he whispered as he gently guided your head onto the pillow. You followed him pliantly, stretching out as you tried to make yourself comfortable. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that surely he could hear it too.

“It’s probably going to hurt a little more than usual, alright? But it’s over very fast” he cooed softly.

You smiled and took a deep breath. You were nervous but trusted him implicitly. He re-positioned himself to straddle you, a muscular thigh against each of your hips as he leaned back on his heels. You squealed internally at this physical contact, squirming back against him. He paused for a second and then looked at you thoughtfully.

“Would you mind if I took my shirt off for this?” he asked. “It’s nice not to be…restricted”.

You nearly laughed at loud at the suggestion you might have an issue with that. “Go nuts” you replied breathily, biting your lip in anticipation of finally seeing more of him.

He smirked, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it onto your bedroom floor. You nearly gasped out loud at his torso, dazzled by the carefully sculpted abdominals and tree trunk arms. His broad shoulders were somehow even wider in the flesh and his biceps looked good enough to sink your teeth into. You resisted the urge to sit up and explore every inch with your tongue. But there was no need to rush.

Wanting to level the playing field you beamed back at him and pulled your own top off so you were left in your bra. Figuring you might as well go the whole hog, you wriggled your leggings off too – Bucky lifted himself off of you as you moved them beneath him and threw them from the bed. You were left in just your bra and panties as he moved back into his earlier position of crouching over you.

Any insecurities or body hang ups you may have had instantly evaporated as you watched Bucky voraciously take you all in. He traced a finger from your shoulder all the way to your toes, as if he didn’t want to miss a single inch of you. The look in his eyes was a mix of hunger and yearning. He took his time exploring you with his hand, careful not to miss a single curve or line.

“Well, aren’t you something…” he whispered in awe, so quietly you barely heard him.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours once more. “If we’re getting more comfortable…” he purred as he undid his jeans, slipping out of them and revealing his tight black boxers. You could see the outline of his cock strain against the fabric – and well, of course he looked like he was big. You had never expected anything less.

His legs were now squeezed against your waist, the shocking chill of his skin causing you to flinch slightly. You looked up at him, realising how helpless you were caged in under his sturdy frame. You felt like a tiny mouse trapped by a cat, helpless and completely at its mercy.

You were practically vibrating with excitement.

He smoothly moved a loose strand of hair away from your face and lined himself up with your neck. He took his time kissing you there, nuzzling his nose into your jawline as he lavished attention upon you. You quickly realised he was trying to make you comfortable and relaxed, and you allowed yourself to be lost in his affection. His breathing was becoming deep and laboured, and it delighted you that he was just as turned on as you were.

Finally you felt a tiny prickling on your neck as his fangs circled your vein, and you knew it was time.

“Okay Doll, here we go” he whispered in your ear. You inhaled deeply, closed your eyes and waited.

His fangs sank in and immediately it felt wrong. He had been correct about one thing, it was more painful than all the times before. But you hadn’t fathomed just how much. Pain scattered throughout your body and you felt a wave of nausea swell within you at the overwhelming sting. Horrifyingly, you could even feel the flow of your blood ebb from the wound. And there was no feel good fog?? Where was the fog? A strangled moan of pain forced its way from your lips as your eyes filled with tears and you instinctively tried to push him off of you. When he didn’t budge, you weakly tried to slap at his face. He did not seem concerned by your actions, he simply continued and lovingly hooked his fingers into your hair as you sobbed quietly beneath him – unable to form any actual words of protest. Were you dying? Was this it?

For a terrifying moment you wondered if it was all a deceptive ruse to lure you into doing this – he was going to drain you dry, and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

But then…

It was like you were hit by a freight train. Like someone had just injected you with a cocktail of the most powerful drugs on earth. You gasped as your body went rigid and you pushed yourself further into the mattress, Bucky manoeuvring along with you almost instinctively. A wave of sheer bliss flowed through you as your body relaxed again. None of the other feedings had ever come close to this. You were intoxicated by the intensity of relentless endorphins, rendered boneless and slack as everything else in your brain was drowned out. You could hear yourself mumbling incoherently, at one point you even found yourself laughing. It was like a type of euphoria, but simultaneously relaxing. All you felt was peace. Peace in yourself, peace in the world. You could’ve floated off the bed like a helium balloon and it wouldn’t have surprised you.

Your eyelids were heavy as you moaned softly. You couldn’t feel the sensation of the blood flow any longer, you couldn’t feel anything close to pain or discomfort. If you were dying, then you could not have asked for a better way to go out.

Bucky stopped suddenly, pulling away from your neck abruptly as he cupped your face in his hands and examined you with concern. You peered up at him stupidly, reaching out to touch him to ensure he was really there.

“Are you okay, Doll?” he whispered with a hint of worry. “Is it too much? I can stop…”

You nodded, smiling and stroking his face to communicate that you were just fine. Better than fine. You opened your mouth to speak when you were struck by how he looked in that moment. The intensity of his darkened eyes, wide and slightly frenzied as he looked down at you beneath him. He must’ve been invigorated by what he’d taken from you as he looked more alive than you’d ever seen him. His chiselled muscles as he hovered over your body, the way his long hair was mussed and wild from exertion. A feral type of arousal utterly overtook you at the sight of him, you had never wanted anything more in your life than you wanted him right now.

You reached out and grasped his face, pulling his lips to yours as you kissed him like your life depended on it. You ignored the metallic taste of blood on his tongue and the little grunt of surprise that you shook from him. You pressed yourself as tightly against him as you possibly could, your hands fast and desperate as you fumbled to hold him.

“I want you” you breathed out between kisses. “Now”.

Bucky pulled away to look at you, the wild look in his eyes fading as he watched you.

“You sure?” he said carefully. “It’s not just the cloud?”

You violently shook your head. “Please…look”.

You grabbed his hand and guided it down your body, sliding it into your underwear. He gasped and moaned softly as you pushed him against your core, his fingers circling experimentally as he discovered how wet you were. And you were sopping.

The wild expression returned to his face as you bucked against his fingers, desperate for him to relieve you of this terrible ache.

“Okay” he muttered softly, his eyes now ablaze.  

Without warning he removed his fingers and tore your bra off with one hand, causing you to shriek in surprise. But Bucky was not fazed by your alarm, diving in and kissing your breasts as he stared at your body in awe. He caressed and explored them, taking each nipple in his mouth with such fervour you almost felt like a third wheel to them. He whispered compliments against your skin, how beautiful you were, how angelic. He smothered your torso with kisses, taking his time to lavish attention upon each part of you before he began to peel your underwear down, kissing the sensitive flesh where your stomach met your mound. But it wasn’t enough. You squirmed and writhed impatiently but he ignored your desperation, savouring every second he was pushing you to the edge. He moved down and you gasped as his tongue made contact with your clit, exploring your bundle of nerves as your eyes rolled back in your head. But it still wasn’t enough.

You tightly gripped his arm and he eventually looked up at you, finally distracted from the very important task at hand.

“Please. I need you now” you whimpered through heavy breathing.

Frankly, you were a mess. Still half high from the feed and so close to getting what you wanted that you couldn’t wait any longer. Your skin was flushed and your hair matted, a thin sheen of sweat covered your body. Foreplay was the last thing you needed. You'd had weeks of that. Every feed, every fight, every lingering look, all building to this. It seemed like you could feel every part yourself all at once. Each of his kisses, each swipe of his tongue, felt like thunder against your skin. You believed you could almost climax from the shivers which ran up your spine alone. You simply could not wait another moment.

Bucky grinned devilishly at you in return. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He grabbed your face and roughly lugged you forwards into an intense kiss. You kissed back, moaning as you pulled yourself into him. He then very carefully laid you back on the pillow, breaking the kiss as he moved back to your neck to resume the feed. You groaned with frustration as he straddled you and pushed you into the mattress while he lapped at your neck. It wasn’t that it wasn’t nice – it was. Very nice in fact. But it wasn’t what you’d asked for. And it wasn’t what he’d agreed to.

He silenced your protests with a firm hand over your mouth without breaking his stride.

“Wait…” he croaked in a voice so deep and unrecognisable that it barely sounded like him. He sounded desperate, out of control.

You continued to whine against his hand for a few moments before the fog kicked in and pacified you, mewling softly as the endorphins hit once more and you sank back into the sheets. You couldn’t turn your head properly with Bucky obstructing your neck, but you rolled it lazily to look at him admiringly, running your fingers through his hair as you’d done on the night which started all of this. He moaned softly when you tugged on the strands, his hand grazing your waist as he clutched at your hips and held you close.

You watched through heavy lids as he began to manoeuvre himself so that his hips were aligned with yours without his mouth ever leaving your neck. He tugged at the sides of your underwear and quickly pulled them down your legs before discarding them. Any shyness you might normally feel about being exposed and fully nude was consumed by the cloud, so you just smiled dreamily. He then removed his own underwear and pulled himself out. Of course your suspicions about his size were confirmed…

You felt a swell of excitement hit through your haze as he lined himself up with your entrance. He finally broke away from your neck, cupping your chin in one hand as he looked into your eyes.

“Okay, you ready?” he whispered, his voice slightly ragged.

You nodded back with as much enthusiasm as you could muster in your jelly-like state.

“Alright. And remember what I said, if it gets too much just tell me and we can stop, okay?”

He punctuated his question with a sweet peck to your lips. His eyes were so earnest that you couldn’t help but reach up and cup his cheek, feeling a wave of longing for him. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling against your hand. It just all felt so right with him, like you’d both been doing this for years.

He finally seemed satisfied that you were not too feed-drunk to go ahead, taking himself in his hand he slowly guided himself into you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him push into you inch by inch, heard him groaning as he made contact with your warm, wet heat. The sting was a mix of pleasure and pain, but overall you felt relief – you had wanted this for so long.

After a few moments Bucky began to thrust, slowly at first as you adjusted to him but then becoming faster as he worked into a rhythm. He swallowed your whimpers with his kisses as he clasped your face in his hands, you clung to his shoulders like your life depended on it. His cool torso against your hot chest sent a shiver down your spine, but you welcomed it all. You felt dizzy with pleasure but hadn’t experienced any of the intensity Bucky had warned you of – so you wondered if he was exaggerating.

His quiet moans were music to your ears as he took you apart piece by piece, you felt strangely proud that you had elicited those from him – it made you feel powerful, desired. You pushed hard back into his kiss, desperately trying to convey how much you wanted this, how much you wanted to be here with him in this moment.

His hand left your cheek and made its way to your core, expertly finding your clit as his fingers working you over as you mewled and rutted against him. His eyes never left yours as he watched you with fascination, not wanting to miss a single facial expression or whimper as you came undone beneath him.

You felt your climax build…and build…your breathing becoming laboured as you closed your eyes and tiny beads of perspiration danced at the top of your forehead…almost there…just a little bit more…Bucky knew you were close and dutifully kept up the momentum…

And then…

An explosion.

And not solely the one you expected.

The second your climax hit you almost blacked out. Your orgasm thundered within you, each nerve ending suddenly alive as you rode each wave. And then bursts of memories of Bucky inside your head…meeting him, the first time he fed from you, the first time he kissed you. It was as if your time together flashed before your eyes. Colour suddenly seemed brighter, sound seemed sharper. You stared at him open mouthed as he held you tightly, feelings of warmth and admiration towards him soaring through you. He looked so beautiful, a strand of fallen hair framing his face. The lines of his broad torso against the darkness. The sparkle of his eyes. You felt you would do anything to protect him in that moment. The need for him was so overwhelming it almost made you feel nauseated. You dug your fingernails tight into his arms as if you were afraid he would let you go. It was dizzying, somehow both invigorating and draining all at once. You tried to speak but no words came out. The intensity of it all almost paralysing you.

Bucky must’ve realised what was happening as he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, soothing you, reassuring you. His own climax hit and he groaned as his hips stuttered against yours as you felt the warmth of his release seep within you. You clung to him with an iron grip as he nuzzled his face into your neck. The house was deathly quiet apart from the sounds of you both breathing. You held each other in silence for a moment, just sitting in the stillness, enjoying each second you were still entwined.

[kirbyofthestars]

Cheese is a dairy product produced in wide ranges of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk, usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep. During production, milk is usually acidified and the enzymes of either rennet or bacterial enzymes with similar activity are added to cause the casein to coagulate. The solid curds are then separated from the liquid whey and pressed into finished cheese.[1] Some cheeses have aromatic molds on the rind, the outer layer, or throughout.

Over a thousand types of cheese exist and are produced in various countries. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and how long they have been aged for. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives, or cranberries. A cheesemonger, or specialist seller of cheeses, may have expertise with selecting the cheeses, purchasing, receiving, storing and ripening them.[2]

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long shelf life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese.[3] Hard cheeses, such as Parmesan, last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable. Vacuum packaging of block-shaped cheeses and gas-flushing of plastic bags with mixtures of carbon dioxide and nitrogen are used for storage and mass distribution of cheeses in the 21st century.[3]

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 2: Self-Mutilation

(Disclaimer: the character in this story does not belong to me. Phantom is the property of Nathan Sharp and Give heart Records. Also, please note that this scenario happened sometime before the events of the Phantom music video.)

(Trigger Warnings: body horror, knives/blades, gore, blood, exposed bones, ritual, implications of illegal business, drinking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1  Day 3   Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

The cane didn’t seem like anything special at first. Oh sure, its wood was a glossy shade of black, and its hilt had been crafted to resemble a set of three curving, silvery talons.

And while that did set it apart from more standard walking-sticks, it still looked. . .cheap. Fragile. Like something you’d find in either a gas station or a sidewalk vendor’s booth, alongside bootleg toys and the like. (The claws weren’t even grasping anything! They were just clutching empty air! What was the user supposed to do, intertwine their fingers with it? Because if that was the case, then that was just sad.) 

Even so, Phantom had wanted it. He knew he hadn’t been drawn to it like some fantasy B-movie might suggest. He just so happened to be in the market for a personal talisman. No magic-user could fully conduct their power without a talisman. Not even one with an eldritch-level status like him.

He’d visited numerous antique stores and curiosity shops and what have you. He’d already come across a few interesting candidates (a rainbow-steel switchblade, a fountain pen with an abalone-esque pattern, too many rings and necklaces to count, etc.) but none of them stood out to him quite like the cane did. 

It didn’t matter how the cane had probably been slapped together, how the metal of its claws would potentially turn pink wherever it was most often touched, how it’d likely been sheer dumb luck on the manufacturer’s part to include quality wood. 

None of those things mattered, because Phantom took pride in being a creative bastard. 

He’d transformed a handful of condemned buildings into places anyone would like to visit on their nights off, hadn’t he?

He’d managed to keep his underground empire safely under the radar centuries now, hadn’t he?

He’d earned a reputation for having one of the largest soul collections on earth, hadn’t he?

Shaping this cane into something stronger, something better, something real. . .how hard could that possibly be?

___

As it turned out, improving his new talisman might be just a wee-bit harder than Phantom had thought. 

Not like that was going to stop him, mind you. He’d already paid a sum that was more than this cane was actually worth. (For now, at least. Once he was done with it, the price tag would be much, much higher than any measly amount of dollars. . .)

Phantom murmured a song in his monstrous native tongue as he paced, carefully pouring a jar of white powder on the floor at the center of his personal den. The powder in question was a mixture of ashes and ground-up bones, courtesy of the last idiot who’d tried to steal something from him. 

The shape he was creating almost resembled a mandala, if not just a piece of abstract art. With how he had to constantly shift his hand in order to get each part right, his wrist honestly might’ve snapped if he was human. 

Even with whatever was festering in his gut right now, Phantom still appreciated the irony of that thought. 

Once the symbol was finally complete, Phantom set the now empty jar aside and surveyed the purple-stained shelves that made up one of the four walls here. His eyes settled on two glass bottles. 

The first was a wine decanter that he’d cleaned out a few weeks prior. (Just because he was a horrific abomination didn’t mean he was ignorant about reusing and recycling, Karen.) The liquid now residing inside of it was the same color as a bruise, churning of its own accord. Phantom had brewed it and poured it into the bottle to cool about an hour ago. 

The second was a much smaller vial that had been molded into the shape of a human skull. This one contained an emerald-green oil; the way it glowed looked radioactive and appealing at the same time.

Phantom took both of them into his hands and strolled back across the room. He sat down in the center of the bone-powder symbol, setting the bottles down beside him, then peered at the table in the corner. He bared his teeth in a sharp whistle, and the cane came soaring like an over-eager dog. It stopped to hover before its owner at a horizontal angle, waiting silently for his next move. 

Phantom had already popped one of his spare orbs into the space between cane’s three silver claws. (Not only had it been such a perfect, satisfying fit, but it could also give him an excuse to cause some hell-raising if his rivals ever tried asking him about how he pondered it.)

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. 

Making a talisman required a lot more sacrifice. 

With that in mind, Phantom decided to stop with the dramatic effect and just get this over with. 

He glanced back and forth between his legs. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t decide which one to use for this ritual; they were just part of his disguise, after all. Whatever damage was done would be minimal. Still, as he leaned forward, he specifically rolled the right pant-leg up to his knee. (Humans always made a big deal about things being on the left.)

He then uncorked the skull-vial, pouring some of its contents into his cupped free hand. Once he decided there was enough, he reached up and slathered it all along the cane’s stem, leaving no square-inch untouched. After that, he drained a little more of the green liquid out and applied it to his partially-uncovered leg. He had to be more careful with it this time, tracing a network of jagged, spiraling lines onto his false skin. 

By the time he was done, there wasn’t much of the potion left. Then again, that wouldn’t be much of a problem: it was a simple concoction of ink, tears, and blood. He’d have a fresh batch ready in no time.

The stuff in the wine decanter, on the other hand. . .it was one of the few things that beings like Phantom struggled with. He cringed as he raised the bottle closer to his face. The odor leaking out was almost similar to the fresh, distinct scent that always followed a good rainstorm—geosmin, if Phantom remembered correctly. Except if geosmin had an oily bite to it, as though some idiot thought it’d be a good idea to mix sweat with Pure Evil 13 Million hot sauce for a YouTube video.

Phantom stared down the elixir for a few long seconds, then screwed his eyes shut and took a swig. He had to really commit to the whole Bottoms Up thing, craning his neck all the way back in order to force himself to not immediately spit the fluid out. Worcestershire sauce was already the bane of any eldritch’s existence, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that adding spleen milk and apple cider vinegar to it made it even worse. 

It tasted like it was insulting him. 

How the fuck did that even work?!

But that didn’t change the fact that this particular mixture proved so effective for most self-involved rituals.

So, Phantom drank about half of the decanter. Once he knew he’d consumed enough for his plan, he set it down beside the skull vial (it took some effort not to instinctually chuck the decanter across the room). 

He could already feel the emerald oil tingling on his skin, as well as the Fuck You Juice starting to boil in his stomach. However, he knew from experience that potions were a bit similar to computers: they almost always seemed to need at least three and a half days to start working.  

Phantom shifted to lie down on his back, stretching his arms and folding his hands behind his neck. It was his turn to wait as he stared up at the cane. 

Sooner or later, something manifested inside the orb it was holding. That something flickered at first, like indigo embers at the bottom of a firepit. But as he watched, it grew larger and brighter. It transitioned from energy to a solid mass, and it writhed similarly to an octopus in a cramped aquarium. 

There was still barely anything to prepare Phantom for what came next. 

The muscles inside Phantom’s right calf began twitching, much more violently than the occasional spasms humans typically experienced. The ensuing sNaAaP was as sickening as it was muffled. The lower half of Phantom’s leg buckled, most definitely not bending the correct way. The involuntary movement suggested that he’d just been hit with a reflex hammer that was somehow on steroids.

Phantom’s dark, toxic blood sprayed out as a glistening shape tore its way through his flesh. Considering how hard it really was to break bones (especially with how resilient Phantom’s disguise was), it was no surprise that both the tibia and fibula looked a little worse for wear. The ends that had formerly been connected to the patella were now jagged and splintery, tangled with strands of skin. 

Phantom’s ankle effectively dislocated, which sort of felt like all the times it’d just randomly rolled when he walked for no reason. Except this was worse, because the talus didn’t seem ready to be snapped like a gory KitKat bar. 

The partially-exposed bones bucked and shook like an animal in a trap. In response, whatever amount of Phantom’s blood that hadn’t spilled yet decided to grow claws. The layers of Phantom’s skin shredded themselves apart. A few pieces were sent flying as the gash grew wider and wider.

Finally, with an awful Strrr-cRaCk, Phantom’s lower leg bones rose into the air. They twisted around the cane to a chorus of popping and clicking, like a strangler vine growing around a thin tree. 

A sharp, sizzling hiss buzzed through Phantom’s ears as the bones started steaming, starting melting. But they refused to drip down onto the floor below. No, instead, they just kept sliding all over the cane, slowly but surely soaking into its material.

Phantom wasn’t sure how long it took for the absorption phase to be complete. His pain receptors weren’t active, of course, but something about watching your own body parts be mauled and repurposed by unseen hands just seemed to make time slow down. 

Eventually, the cane appeared clean once again. Aside from the remains of Phantom’s leg, there was no evidence that anything had happened to the cane at all. 

Phantom raised one of his arms, holding his hand open to the air above. The cane faithfully drifted toward him. The wood felt like snakeskin as Phantom closed his fingers around it. After a few seconds passed, he sat up on his haunches, holding the cane a bit closer for examination. 

The metal hilt was hot to the touch. Its trio of claws were sharper than before. 

The orb now appeared empty, but Phantom knew better.

A satisfied grin etched its way across his features—way more satisfied than it probably should’ve been for a guy whose leg looked like it’d been shoved into a garbage disposal.

But that wasn’t a problem. His disguise’s bones had grown back before, so they’d grow back again. In fact, the healing process would probably be even faster than usual.

Phantom’s new talisman was ready for service, after all. . .

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au. @captainrose35 @th3w00ds @thelittleautisticgirl @ineedallofthehugs

[m1ntted]

do u like cheese .

Cheese is a dairy product produced in wide ranges of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk (usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep). During production, milk is usually acidified and either the enzymes of rennet or bacterial enzymes with similar activity are added to cause the casein to coagulate. The solid curds are then separated from the liquid whey and pressed into finished cheese. Some cheeses have aromatic molds on the rind, the outer layer, or throughout.

Over a thousand types of cheese exist and are produced in various countries. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and how long they have been aged. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives, or cranberries. A cheesemonger, or specialist seller of cheeses, may have expertise with selecting, purchasing, receiving, storing and ripening cheeses.

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long shelf life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese. Hard cheeses, such as Parmesan, last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable. Vacuum packaging of block-shaped cheeses and gas-flushing of plastic bags with mixtures of carbon dioxide and nitrogen are used for storage and mass distribution of cheeses in the 21st century.

in short.... yes. im very much a lover of cheese. cheese. give me cheese..

[tardis-ghost-blog]

I want to remember those special moments (The Master x Reader)

Rating: T Summary: "In years to come I want to take out those pictures and re-remember all of those special and beautiful scenes. All this small moments that made me happy." On one of your trips you find yourself explaining to the Master why photos are so important for humans. Strangely enough - he listens.

It was evening, the dark sky above your heads was clear and tinted in the most beautiful shade of bluish almost-black you had ever seen, adorned with countless freckles of brightly glowing stars. Two moons hung above a set of purple mountains in the distance and through the dense atmosphere of the planet you could make out the white shimmering rings that surrounded it.

Beautiful, you thought, your heart thumping excitedly in your chest.

It had been such a great day. The two Time Lords and you had visited the local market, which was known throughout this whole solar system for its exotic wares. You had seen so many different species! Some that were only colourful gas clouds, others which looked like spindly frogs in suits, another group you could swear were actual werewolves! Then there had been this couple of bird people, with folded wings on their backs and their whole body covered in blue and purple feathers.

The market itself was not less colourful, the wares so weird that, most of the time, you had no idea what the items actually were good for. While the Doctor ran around and annoyed the merchants with his bubbly attitude (and the fact that he had no money), you and the Master had stayed a little behind, taking everything a little slower.

"What's that?" you asked, as the two of you made a halt in front of a cart that was filled with all sorts of gadgets. "It almost looks like a camera."

The Master chuckled. "Because it is, stupid."

You poked out your tongue and elbowed the Time Lord. "Smartass."

"Pfff, it's common knowledge!" he mocked. "The Loperals are known for their advanced image capturing devices. Every proper traveller knows that!"

You sighed. He was always bragging around like that. Even more than the Doctor, and in a way that made every bit of information he gave out sounding like an insult to your intellect. The Master knew perfectly well that you literally couldn't know these things, and usually you just tossed some sarcastic comment back, resulting in the two of you bantering half serious, half joking.

Only now did you not find yourself in the mood for it. This camera device reminded you of how you always loved to take pictures in your old hometown, of everyone and everything. You were actually really good at it, having a great eye for aesthetics, angles and composition.

"You're alright?" the Master asked, his voice a mixture of teasing and earnest. "Or did your little brain just get fried from all that knowledge?"

"Shut up," you grumbled and strode away from the stand.

"Oi! Don't be rude, ape."

"You're the rude one," you snapped back, burying your hands in your jacket pockets.

The Master grabbed your hood and tore at it hard enough to make you stumble backwards and right into him. For a moment you startled at the closeness. Normally he did his best to keep his distance to you, but now you were almost certain to feel his hearts beating against your back.

He then ruined the moment by resting his elbow on your head.

"You're acting weird. Weirder than usual, I mean. What's up?"

Strangely enough he didn't sound cocky and mean, this time. It also was quite nice to stand so close to him, since the temperatures were a little cool and his body warmth was making you relax.

Gosh, you really should stop feeling so comfortable around a lunatic mass murderer, you scolded yourself with a frown.

"Hellooooo! Y/N... you're still alive? Answer your Master!"

Again you elbowed him, not hard enough to be painful. A smile involuntarily crept over your face.

"Don't mind," you finally responded. "It's not as if I could afford anything here, anyway."

"Oh, I bet, selling you to some collector would yield a bit of pocket money." He sniggered in his meanest way and moved away from your back. "I'll leave you alone for a bit. Need to have a little fun without getting bored to death by your stunted brain."

"Yeah, I think those lobotomized crabs from before might be a way better company for you," you grumbled back sourly. He couldn't just be nice for one single, bloody time, could he? Or at least speak one sentence without insulting you...

Without even looking back at him you continued strolling over the market, marvelling at all the weird and alien things around you. One booth caught your eye that sold fantastic statues made out of what seemed like soap-bubbles, held together by cobwebs. The constructs were floating slightly above metal sockets and you wondered how to even transport this, without breaking it.

Somewhere you also met the Doctor again and he did his best to tell about everything you came across. Then he found a particularly nasty fly-looking alien and greeted them as if they were old friends. Maybe they were, you had no idea and continued on your own.

Some hours must have passed since you all had arrived here, your stomach started to rumble quite a bit and every booth that sold food made you wish you were brave enough to just rob them. The low blood sugar let your mood drop significantly, so you sat on a low, broken stone wall nearby and just watched the different species.

Someone stepped behind you. You noticed it just a second too late and already had two arms wrapped around your throat, making you struggle in a panic.

"Hold still, dimwit!" a familiar voice called out and you relaxed turning your head up to see the Master scowling down at you.

"Damn you!" you shouted at him. "Why'd you scare me like that? What are you even doing?"

The arms around your neck vanished and you realised he had fastened a clasp there. With a small tug he moved the attached leather straps and you suddenly had a device dangling over your chest. It was the camera thing you had seen before. The exact one you had been staring at.

"Wh... what? How?" you stammered.

"Oh, I have my ways." The Master smirked sarcastically.

You had a vague idea of how he had used his hypnotism or some other nefarious way to get his hands on it. But why had he at all?

"You seemed so sad. Thought it might brighten your mood a little," he said in an almost soft voice and hopped on the wall right next to you. Distinctly you got aware of your shoulders touching as he sat there, letting his feet dangle and swing in a quite boyish manner.

"Thank you," you breathed and felt a blush creeping over your cheeks. Could you dare to lean just a little closer?

Suddenly he stopped the dangling and shot straight, his eyes shooting towards you, brows raised. "You have no clue how to operate the device."

"Uhm... no." That made you a little sad again. "It probably would be too annoying to explain it to me. I'll just look up a manual when we're back."

To your surprise the Master laughed. "Don't be daft. Look."

And with that he almost rendered your entire brain useless by leaning over to you, putting one arm around your shoulder to be able to grab the camera with both hands. His face was so close to your own, it was hard to concentrate on his words, to keep in mind what all the different buttons and dials did.

"Well... it might be enough to flip that one and then press the release. It's sort of an automatic mode, but since you're so skilled with human photographs I thought the rest might interest you as well."

It did! Tremendously at that. And you had even understood most of the explanations. But how and why did the Master know of your skills? And why was his arm still around your shoulder?

"It... it really does interest me," you brought out somehow. "Thanks." It took all the courage in your system to speak out the next words. There was no guarantee you would ever dare to ask it again, so you pulled yourself together, took a deep breath and, "Wou.... would you... could I have a picture? I mean... with... with you in. I mean, us. Both. Just, uhm... err..."

The Master snorted, but still didn't move away. "What would you need that for? I know I'm a good looking guy, but why would you be in the picture?"

An almost growl emerged from your throat. Suddenly there was an enormous wish to simply push him from the wall and storm away.

"Why do you need all those pictures anyway?" the Master continued. "You can never capture a scene exactly as it is. Even with those advanced devices."

It was then that you understood. Of course, how could it be different?

"Hey! What's the sad look for again?" he called out exasperated. "That wasn't an insult. Just a question."

"I know," you mumbled and gave him a weak smile. Why was his face so close, god damit! "Human memory is not as great as a Time Lord's, you know." Your finger brushed over the camera around your neck. "One day the images in my head will fade, they will distort, vanish even. I don't want that to happen. In years to come I want to take out those pictures and re-remember all of those special and beautiful scenes. All this small moments that made me happy."

For a few seconds it was silent.

"Oh... I see," came the soft reply from next to you. "So, this is a special moment to you?" he asked in an almost husky voice, leaning close to your ear.

You almost squeaked at the proximity, but then nodded – and blushed furiously at the boyish grin the Master gave you.

"Alright then. Let me take the photo, I have longer arms."

He carefully pulled the strap over your head and held the lens towards the two of you, draping his other arm back over your shoulder to draw you close to him. You smiled into the camera, not bothering what expression he might be making (probably something silly, but you didn't care).

"Hm... no, that won't do," he mumbled afterwards and held the camera out once more. "Y/N, look at me."

Perplex you did, remembering how close his face was. Shyly you peeked into his hazel eyes, seeing a weird expression in them that was completely unfamiliar to you. And before you could form another coherent thought he suddenly was even closer, his lips brushing over yours. The realisation made you gasp in surprise, but only for a second, before you found yourself responding carefully, the thing in your chest no longer a heart, but a bird, wildly fluttering against its cage. He kissed you so tenderly, yet with an eagerness that surprised you, that was so much more than you had imagined in your daydreams.

The click of the camera's release resounded.

And with that the Master broke away from you, a mischievous grin spreading his lips almost ear to ear, eyes crinkling in clear joy. He tossed the camera at you and hopped from the wall.

"Next time you want to sneak something to the Doctor I will use that picture as blackmail. He will sooooo not be pleased with you for mingling with the enemy." The Master threw his head back, cackling idiotically to himself, while he strode away into the crowd.

You stayed behind, completely dumbfounded about what had just happened. You pressed a hand over your heart, trying to calm it down in vain. Had this really only been a trick? And when had you ever snitched on the Master for anything?

Confused you slid from the wall and strode in the same direction the Time Lord had vanished. Only now did you notice that it had gotten dark and that the market was now illuminated by floating orange paper lamps. The sight let you forget everything for a moment and you got lost in taking picture after picture, banning all the beautiful sights into the device.

Eventually, though, your hunger got too bad to ignore and you were almost about to head back to the TARDIS, when you found the Time Lords again. They were arguing about something, and by the look on the Doctor's face it seemed as if he had caught the Master stealing something, or hypnotizing someone.

"I didn't hurt anyone!" the Master spat. "And they won't go poor from loosing this little."

"It's still not right!" the Doctor whined.

Finally they both spotted you and for a moment you were tempted to hide the camera. But no, you were not going to give it back or even apologize for keeping it. Not in the universe! The Master shot you an impish grin and tossed a small paper back at you, which you caught in time.

"You must be starving, little one," he commented. "Our dear Doctor keeps forgetting how much food your species needs."

Puzzled you opened the bag and found it full of fried little meat balls. You took one out, noticing they were still hot, and carefully bit into one. They were delicious! Slightly spicy and a little savoury.

"Mhm... those are soooo good!" you let out and the glance from the Master you caught told you that he knew perfectly well you would like them.

"Alright, alright." The other Time Lord gave up. "Just this once. Go and get some snacks. I want to watch the firework later."

Giggling and grinning the Master rushed away, doing his nefarious deeds. The rest of the evening was spent with laughter and jokes and really delicious street-food. He had picked all the things you absolutely loved, and each time you closed your eyes in delight, you saw a happy smile on his face when you opened them up again.

When the loud bangs of fireworks clogged your ears you suddenly felt a hand slip into yours. It was warm and gentle and you simply leaned your head against the Master's shoulder, not caring at all what he was planning again. Clearly he wouldn't just hold your hand without gaining anything from it.

"Don't want to take a pic of the fireworks?" he asked in a mocking voice.

"I don't think I can capture it good enough," you confessed.

At those words he reached over your shoulder once more and showed you the right settings. You weren't able to pay much attention to it, however, being too busy peeking at him from the side. Of course he noticed it, turning to you with a wicked smirk and slightly poked out his tongue.

"What? Want more blackmailing material?"

"Wha... no! I'm not kissing you again!" you shot out, turning your head away hastily so he couldn't see you flush again.

The Master removed his arm from you and straightened, but you could swear you heard him mumble, "Too bad, I liked it."

When his hand left yours there was something staying behind. A tiny figurine of sorts. Later you found out it was a delicately crafted miniature of a fox, your favourite animal. For now, though, you put it in your pocket and took a few half hearted snaps of the remaining fireworks, deciding to show them to the Master later.

They surely must be bad enough for him to explain – definitely in an exasperated tone – how you could have done it better.

[stardustshimmer]

Cheese is a dairy product produced in wide ranges of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk (usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep). During production, milk is usually acidified and either the enzymes of rennet or bacterial enzymes with similar activity are added to cause the casein to coagulate. The solid curds are then separated from the liquid whey and pressed into finished cheese. Some cheeses have aromatic molds on the rind, the outer layer, or throughout.

A platter with cheese and garnishes

Cheeses in art: Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels, Clara Peeters, c. 1615

Over a thousand types of cheese exist and are produced in various countries. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and how long they have been aged. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives, or cranberries. A cheesemonger, or specialist seller of cheeses, may have expertise with selecting, purchasing, receiving, storing and ripening cheeses.

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long shelf life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese. Hard cheeses, such as Parmesan, last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable. Vacuum packaging of block-shaped cheeses and gas-flushing of plastic bags with mixtures of carbon dioxide and nitrogen are used for storage and mass distribution of cheeses in the 21st century.

Etymology

Various hard cheeses

The word cheese comes from Latin caseus,from which the modern word casein is also derived. The earliest source is from the proto-Indo-European root *kwat-, which means "to ferment, become sour". That gave rise to cīese or cēse (in Old English) and chese (in Middle English). Similar words are shared by other West Germanic languages—West Frisian tsiis, Dutch kaas, German Käse, Old High German chāsi—all from the reconstructed West-Germanic form *kāsī, which in turn is an early borrowing from Latin.

The Online Etymological Dictionary states that "cheese" comes from:

Old English cyse (West Saxon), cese (Anglian) ... from West Germanic *kasjus (source also of Old Saxon kasi, Old High German chasi, German Käse, Middle Dutch case, Dutch kaas), from Latin caseus [for] "cheese" (source of Italian cacio, Spanish queso, Irish caise, Welsh caws).

The Online Etymological Dictionary states that the word is of:

unknown origin; perhaps from a PIE root *kwat- "to ferment, become sour" (source also of Prakrit chasi "buttermilk;" Old Church Slavonic kvasu "leaven; fermented drink," kyselu "sour," -kyseti "to turn sour;" Czech kysati "to turn sour, rot;" Sanskrit kvathati "boils, seethes;" Gothic hwaþjan "foam"). Also compare fromage. Old Norse ostr, Danish ost, Swedish ost are related to Latin ius "broth, sauce, juice."

When the Romans began to make hard cheeses for their legionaries' supplies, a new word started to be used: formaticum, from caseus formatus, or "molded cheese" (as in "formed", not "moldy"). It is from this word that the French fromage, standard Italian formaggio, Catalan formatge, Breton fourmaj, and Occitan fromatge (or formatge) are derived. Of the Romance languages, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian, Tuscan and Southern Italian dialects use words derived from caseus (queso, queijo, caș and caso for example). The word cheese itself is occasionally employed in a sense that means "molded" or "formed". Head cheese uses the word in this sense. The term "cheese" is also used as a noun, verb and adjective in a number of figurative expressions (e.g., "the big cheese", "to be cheesed off" and "cheesy lyrics").

A piece of soft curd cheese, oven-baked to increase shelf life

Cheese is an ancient food whose origins predate recorded history. There is no conclusive evidence indicating where cheesemaking originated, whether in Europe, Central Asia or the Middle East. Earliest proposed dates for the origin of cheesemaking range from around 8000 BCE, when sheep were first domesticated. Since animal skins and inflated internal organs have, since ancient times, provided storage vessels for a range of foodstuffs, it is probable that the process of cheese making was discovered accidentally by storing milk in a container made from the stomach of an animal, resulting in the milk being turned to curd and whey by the rennet from the stomach.

The earliest evidence of cheesemaking in the archaeological record dates back to 5500 BCE and is found in what is now Kuyavia, Poland, where strainers coated with milk-fat molecules have been found.

Cheesemaking may have begun independently of this by the pressing and salting of curdled milk to preserve it. Observation that the effect of making cheese in an animal stomach gave more solid and better-textured curds may have led to the deliberate addition of rennet. Early archeological evidence of Egyptian cheese has been found in Egyptian tomb murals, dating to about 2000 BCE. A 2018 scientific paper stated that the world's oldest cheese, dating to approximately 1200 BCE (3200 years before present), was found in ancient Egyptian tombs.

The earliest cheeses were likely quite sour and salty, similar in texture to rustic cottage cheese or feta, a crumbly, flavorful Greek cheese. Cheese produced in Europe, where climates are cooler than the Middle East, required less salt for preservation. With less salt and acidity, the cheese became a suitable environment for useful microbes and molds, giving aged cheeses their respective flavors. The earliest ever discovered preserved cheese was found in the Taklamakan Desert in Xinjiang, China, dating back as early as 1615 BCE (3600 years before present).

Ancient Greece and Rome

Cheese in a market in Italy

Ancient Greek mythology credited Aristaeus with the discovery of cheese. Homer's Odyssey (8th century BCE) describes the Cyclops making and storing sheep's and goats' milk cheese (translation by Samuel Butler):

We soon reached his cave, but he was out shepherding, so we went inside and took stock of all that we could see. His cheese-racks were loaded with cheeses, and he had more lambs and kids than his pens could hold...

When he had so done he sat down and milked his ewes and goats, all in due course, and then let each of them have her own young. He curdled half the milk and set it aside in wicker strainers.

Columella's De Re Rustica (c. 65 CE) details a cheesemaking process involving rennet coagulation, pressing of the curd, salting, and aging. According to Pliny the Elder, it had become a sophisticated enterprise by the time the Roman Empire came into being.

Cheese, Tacuinum sanitatis Casanatensis (14th century)

As Romanized populations encountered unfamiliar newly settled neighbors, bringing their own cheese-making traditions, their own flocks and their own unrelated words for cheese, cheeses in Europe diversified further, with various locales developing their own distinctive traditions and products. As long-distance trade collapsed, only travelers would encounter unfamiliar cheeses: Charlemagne's first encounter with a white cheese that had an edible rind forms one of the constructed anecdotes of Notker's Life of the Emperor.

The British Cheese Board claims that Britain has approximately 700 distinct local cheeses; France and Italy have perhaps 400 each (a French proverb holds there is a different French cheese for every day of the year, and Charles de Gaulle once asked "how can you govern a country in which there are 246 kinds of cheese?"). Still, the advancement of the cheese art in Europe was slow during the centuries after Rome's fall. Many cheeses popular today were first recorded in the late Middle Ages or after—cheeses like Cheddar around 1500, Parmesan in 1597, Gouda in 1697, and Camembert in 1791.

In 1546, The Proverbs of John Heywood claimed "the moon is made of a green cheese" (Greene may refer here not to the color, as many now think, but to being new or unaged). Variations on this sentiment were long repeated and NASA exploited this myth for an April Fools' Day spoof announcement in 2006.

Cheese display in grocery store, Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States

Until its modern spread along with European culture, cheese was nearly unheard of in east Asian cultures and in the pre-Columbian Americas and had only limited use in sub-Mediterranean Africa, mainly being widespread and popular only in Europe, the Middle East, the Indian subcontinent, and areas influenced by those cultures. But with the spread, first of European imperialism, and later of Euro-American culture and food, cheese has gradually become known and increasingly popular worldwide.

The first factory for the industrial production of cheese opened in Switzerland in 1815, but large-scale production first found real success in the United States. Credit usually goes to Jesse Williams, a dairy farmer from Rome, New York, who in 1851 started making cheese in an assembly-line fashion using the milk from neighboring farms; this made cheddar cheese one of the first US industrial foods.Within decades, hundreds of such commercial dairy associations existed.

The 1860s saw the beginnings of mass-produced rennet, and by the turn of the century scientists were producing pure microbial cultures. Before then, bacteria in cheesemaking had come from the environment or from recycling an earlier batch's whey; the pure cultures meant a more standardized cheese could be produced.

Factory-made cheese overtook traditional cheesemaking in the World War II era, and factories have been the source of most cheese in America and Europe ever since.By 2012, cheese was one of the most shoplifted items from supermarkets worldwide.

I’M NOT GRADING YOUR INFORMATIVE ESSAY.

[accidentalmistress]

GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS

No, it's not hump day. It's Accidental Mistress Release Day!

(Really showing my age with that reference, lol)

Man, has it really been two weeks already? Time sure flies, don't it? OH, and I sneezed today! It's been exactly 15 weeks since the last one! An auspicious day indeed!

Today we have a relatively short piece, but it's one of my favorites. This is a very snz-centered piece that's entirely from Oraion's point of view, so please do enjoy the next installment of Accidental Mistress...

Title: Silver Metal

Word count: 2,044

Content and warnings: snz (male)

----------------------------

Oraion waited patiently for the perfect opportunity to present itself, and the time had finally come. One of the middle levels of his Mistress’s tower was one sprawling room that served as her library, study, and workshop. Today, he found Noelle standing before her workbench, fussing over a number of glass bottles, vials, and beakers. She had her back to him and was quite absorbed in whatever she was working on, so he took a moment to let his eyes rove her figure. Noelle was a petite little thing, barely taller than five feet while he stood three inches over six. Today she had on one of her usual ensembles of a plain dress in a neutral color with a knit shawl around her shoulders. Despite his efforts, Oraion had not yet convinced his Mistress that simply because she was a witch did not mean she needed to dress like someone's grandmother. At least she was wearing the silver earrings he had gifted her back when they visited the Silver Market together with that Knight friend of hers.

He crept into the room as silent as a cat, crossing the distance until he was standing directly behind the young witch with her being none the wiser. Her focus was intent on a metal bowl on the table—Oraion hesitated to call it a ‘cauldron’—and the small vials she held in each hand, one containing a luminescent green fluid and the other a substance that was milky and pale blue. It seemed she was just about to add some measure of each to the mixture.

Oraion waited until he was nearly touching her, leaning to peer over her shoulder, before he spoke.

“My, that looks fiddly.”

Predictably, Noelle shrieked and jumped, the two vials in her hands dropping from her grasp completely. With a satisfied smirk, Oraion reached out a hand and snapped his fingers, and the falling vials of liquid froze in the air as though time had stopped. Noelle turned to look over her shoulder with an indignant look, but her freckled cheeks were a delightful pink.

“O-Oraion! Do not sneak up on me like that! What if this was something volatile and explosive? Or if it produced some kind of toxic gas? It’s dangerous to startle me when I’m working!”

“Oh, come now, I had everything well in hand.” The demon twirled his finger and the liquid that had begun to spill from the vials flowed right back in. “See? No harm done.”

Noelle snatched the two vials out of the air before flashing Oraion an irritated pout.

“You still scared the life out of me.” She turned back to her work and added in a sulky grumble, “I’d say that’s some harm done.”

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve upset my Mistress.” Oraion placed his hands on her shoulders and started to massage the tension there with his thumbs. “I do hope she will allow her humble Servant to make it up to her.”

“W-well, I suppose that does feel nice…”

He could feel little ripples of pleasure radiating out from where he touched her—not the same as what he felt when he pleasured her in more intimate ways, but it still provided him with a tantalizing taste of her. She really was different from anyone else he had ever fed on, an intoxicating nectar more exquisite than the finest wine and sweeter than the most tempting dessert. Now that he had gotten that small taste, though, it only left him wanting more. He leaned down as though he were trying to get a closer look at what she was doing.

“Hm, perhaps I could also offer my Mistress some assistance? After all, is it not my duty as your Servant to lend a helping hand with your magical endeavors?”

Being a demon, his ears were long and pointed, like an elf, and as he bent down with his head next to hers, he allowed the tip of his ear to brush hers and the silver earring that hung from it.

“Ah, sorry.”

“Oh, n-no, it’s all right. Um, this potion, though, is really more manual than magical. I don’t know what I would have you do to help.”

“Hmm, I see… Then perhaps it would be acceptable for me to simply observe?”

“I-I suppose… I don’t see why not.”

Oraion smirked and straightened back up. “Wonderful. Well, don’t let me interrupt you any further, Mistress.”

“Um, all right…”

As she resumed her work with the potion, readying the vials to add to the mixture, Oraion felt the telltale prickle in his sinuses blossom. He had only barely touched the silver for a fraction of a moment, so it was a tenuous tickle stirring at the bridge of his nose, but it was enough to start a sniffle forming.

“So what is this potion you’re -snf- making?”

“Oh, um, it’s an energy potion. I’m trying to perfect the formula, so whenever I’m feeling a little tired I can take some for a quick boost. I have to be very careful with the proportions, though. I don’t want it to be too strong, or, um, I won’t sleep for days.”

Oraion chuckled. “Sounds like you’re, ah, -snf- speaking from experience.”

“Y-yes, well, it’s a… work in progress.”

He could tell he had her attention, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for him to be a bit sniffly at times. She wasn’t getting riled up quite yet, but half the fun was the slow build, wasn’t it?

He moved his hands from kneading her shoulders to lightly rubbing the nape of her neck. The silver charms dangling from Noelle’s ears were shaped like luna moths, and he surreptitiously brushed one with a finger. The effect was more immediate now that his sinuses were already irritated, and the tickle began to spread.

“Mmh…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, -snnff- sorry.” His nose was beginning to run, giving his sniffling more substance, and he could just barely detect a stirring of desire within her.

“O-oh, okay…”

He watched her add the ingredients from the two vials and put them away, then start stirring the concoction with a metal rod. He stopped rubbing her shoulders so he could instead rub his own nose, which he was certain was starting to flush. Though the itch had spread, it still wasn’t enough to send him over the edge, and as he bided his time it even began to subside a bit.

A slow burn was his aim, no need to rush things. So far his sniffling was nothing out of the ordinary, just enough to catch her attention and interest.

“So, ah, what’s our -sdnf- next step?”

“Um, well, I need to keep stirring it until it changes color. Right now it’s a dark blue, but as I stir you’ll see it lighten and change to a sort of lavender color.”

“Lavender, eh?” He seized the opportunity to tease her. “Just saying the word makes my nose itch.”

Looking at her profile, he could see her cheeks turning redder as the desire within her sparked. She laughed as well, but it was more of a nervous giggle.

“W-well, it, um, it won’t smell like lavender, it will only take on the color. So, uh, no need to worry.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. Even if it did smell like lavender. That would only make things more interesting, I think.”

Things were about to get more interesting either way. He touched her earring with a finger again, and a flare of irritation swept through his sinuses so quickly that he very nearly lost control right then and there. He pressed a knuckle beneath his septum as his breath caught.

“hehHEH–  Oh, g-goodness, I’m sorry. -snnff- I-I suppose it’s all that talk of lavender.”

That spark of desire within his Mistress began to smolder and burn, and he had to suppress a shiver as the feel of it washed over him. Another anxious titter crossed her lips.

“Oh, um, sorry, haha. W-we can talk about, um, something else.”

Now it was getting fun. Time to turn things up a little more.

“Ah, yes, I certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt you again, Mistress.” He snapped his fingers, and a handkerchief appeared in his hand. “This ought to help. Excuse me for a moment.”

He turned and blew his nose into the cloth, a satisfied smirk crossing his face. Under the guise of trying to restrain himself, he could wind her up even more. It was delicious.

“R-right. Um, oh, look: the potion is changing color. See?”

He craned over to peer at the bowl on the workbench. Indeed, the liquid inside began to change from the sort of navy blue color it was before to a lighter color. A perfect opportunity: he brushed her ear with his own again, and a sharp buzz lanced through the bridge of his nose. He felt his nostrils twitch and flare. 

“Oh dear— eh-heh-hehh! S-sorry, I duh-heh- d-don’t know what– what, um… hehh-HEHH!”

Gods, he was barely hanging on. He wasn’t going to be able to hold it back much more than this. If he touched the silver again, that would surely be the end of it. He pressed the handkerchief desperately over his nose and mouth and somehow wrested control back over his sinuses.

“Nnhehh… P-please forgive me, -snndff- Mistress. I-I’m so sorry to be such a- such a-hah! Mmnh- -snnf- A d-distraction. I don’t know what’s c-come over me. -snf- You know, s-sometimes the, ah, littlest things can se-set me off.”

Oh, she was enjoying this. The more he apologized, the more flustered she became and the brighter her desire burned. It was becoming difficult to stay in character, all contrite and genteel, when his instinct was to embrace her and whisper in her ear all the things he could do to her right there on the table. He’d been with her long enough now, though, to know that something like that would only stoke her anxieties. His Mistress required more care, a gentler touch—Oraion suspected she might be a virgin. And so, the perfect gentleman he would remain, with his remaining hand on her shoulder being the only touch between them until she wanted more. Until she wanted him.

Noelle shifted, barely paying attention to her potion at this point. Oraion could feel her body heat radiating through the charged air between them. The sight of her face, so flushed and red, set his pulse racing.

“Um, i-if you really need to, you can, uh, you know, g-go ahead. It wouldn’t… bother me.”

The demon grinned and leaned down close to her ear again.

“Then do I hihh-have your p-permission, Mistress?”

She didn’t reply, only nodded with a little closed-mouth squeak. He leaned in even closer and nuzzled her ear, brushing the silver earring directly against his nose.

“Oh- p-please excuse m-me, I- hiihh- iihhHHIIIH-! HIIESSSHHHOO! HNG’TCHIU! heh-haaESHHIUU! S-sorry- hiih-! hih-hih-hiTCHIU! HIIHTCHUU! Nguh… -snnff- I c-can’t seem to s-stop- heh! … hehhHEHHhheh-! … heh-HEH-HEHHIISSHIIEEW! HEH-HIISSHHIIEW! HEH- HEH- HEH-TCHOO!”

Once the sneezing subsided, he dabbed at his running nose with his handkerchief.

“Oh my, -snnfff- that feels much better. -snf- Thank you, Mistress.”

“Y-yes, of course. I’m, um, glad you feel better.”

He could think of one thing that would make him feel even better…

“I think I -snf- must have touched your earring. I quite forgot it was silver. -snnff- I-I’m terribly sorry. I can tell that I’ve worked you up into quite a state, -snnf- s-so if there’s anything you need, Mistress, please let me make it up to you.”

She finally turned and looked up at him, her potion work forgotten. Oh, but she looked so adorable like this, all rosy-cheeked and impassioned, her large brown eyes batting shyly beneath her lashes.

“Um, well, h-how long has it been since you last, um, fed?”

With supreme effort, Oraion managed to keep a triumphant grin off of his face.

“Oh, about a week, I think.”

Noelle fidgeted with her fingers and gave a thoughtful nod. “Well then, maybe we should… go to my room?”

He took her hand in his own and bowed over it, placing a gentle kiss upon her fingers. Now he could no longer keep the smile from his face.

“As you wish, my Mistress.”

[nils-little-freakshow]

Interview With A...?

The camera feed crackles to life once more, after a long bout of silence. You're surprised to see this old show of death make a return, but Nil's smile is still toeing that familiar old line between mania and the façade of motherliness.

"Hello hello, darlings! It's been a while, hasn't it? But we'll ignore that for now, I have a little program I've organized for you all! I think you'll find it quite useful, for, ah... writing purposes, yes. Purely fictional things, just like this is, no?"

She sends you a playful wink, before lifting the camera off it's stand to walk your view over to her cabinets in that familiar old basement that's seen many a horrible thing. There's several bottles of chemicals, mostly cleaning products, and a few medical things as well.

She lifts a bottle of hydrogen peroxide up so it's easily visible in the camera, giving her audience beyond the screen a wide smile.

"The first thing you should always remember for your projects, is that this will destroy bloodstains in a way that makes them no longer reactive to UV light, making it harder for police to find evidence. You'll want to wipe up the majority of it first, of course, but after you've cleaned it up normally so it's no longer visible to the naked eye, go over it again with the peroxide, twice or even three times if it was sitting there a while."

She sets the bottle of peroxide down, then points the camera at a bottle of bleach.

"Now, everyone knows you shouldn't mix bleach and ammonia while cleaning, because you'll create mustard gas, but did you know mixing it with rubbing alcohol will create chloroform? Just a few tablespoons making it's way into only a cup of bleach could spell disaster for an unlucky soul, so definitely don't make that mistake, and especially don't mix them in glass jars that are easily breakable on impact, ok~?"

She giggles to herself, closing her cabinet and turning to the incinerator in the corner.

"Now, I know it might not be reasonable for you're, uh, main character to have one of these, but any especially hot fire will do, or one that burns long enough - if you're someone who burns trash anyways, the smell of that might even mask the scent of charring bone a little bit. Fire is great for getting rid of the teeth, especially if you crush them up a little bit first to be even smaller. If you can't do that, though, something known as 'piranha solution' - a mixture of sulfuric acid and, you guessed it, peroxide again! - will typically dissolve anything organic and porous enough with enough time. Makes a decent drain cleaner, too, if you've got something super backed-up... So long as your pipes are plastic and not metal. It'll eat that, too."

Next, she turns the camera to the countertop's end, and you can see a meat grinder hanging over the edge with a large bin positioned underneath the extrusion spout, surprisingly clean and in good condition. It looks well-maintained.

"Now, one of these will make disposal for your main character very easy, depending on how much they love stray animals or hate their neighbors. Free ground meat is typically welcomed by both, though, of course, one of those groups wouldn't be thrilled to find out what it really is. I have a hand crank grinder, but you might find electric to be easier and faster for your projects. Not everyone can live in a ghost town nobody remembers, after all! I have time that you might not."

She sends another playful wink to the camera, holding up her finger in front of her lips as if she was letting you in on a joke.

"Though, I don't need animals or neighbors to act as disposal for me, of course. I can do that myself."

She walks the camera back over to it's stand, setting it down and taking a seat in front of it, propping her chin up in one hand.

"Of course, you don't need to grind the whole body - organs have tons of market value, if you know what I mean, and there's people in this world desperate to save their loved ones who might not be able to otherwise. What a cruel world we live in, where innocents die to feed the rich, no?"

She gives you a smile, a knowing one. It doesn't quite reach her eyes, the fire behind them quiet but strong, keeping the smile from being read as genuine. A silent message - but do you understand it?

The moment passes, though, and she waves a hand as if to banish the tension that had gathered in the air, continuing to speak.

"Of course, one person can only do so much before raising suspicion and needing to step back, let time pass. A group though, especially a large one spread over a state or two, or five, or twenty... Well, now that would make for an interesting story to write, wouldn't it my little authors?"

She reaches out to the camera, hand hovering near the power button, but on your screen it almost gives the impression of her resting her hand on your head, or maybe shoulder.

"... Write the story you want to see in the world, ok my darlings? I look forward to hearing about them."

With that, the screen goes dark again as she shuts off the camera, and you're left with loads of information and subtext to absorb and think over. You could choose to ignore all this, of course. That was always an option from the very first time you stumbled upon her broadcast - she never made you stay. You were always free to leave, forget about it all.

... But you won't, will you?

[kaffiexx]

Cheese

Cheese is a dairy product produced in wide ranges of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk (usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep). During production, milk is usually acidified and either the enzymes of rennet or bacterial enzymes with similar activity are added to cause the casein to coagulate. The solid curds are then separated from the liquid whey and pressed into finished cheese.[1] Some cheeses have aromatic molds on the rind, the outer layer, or throughout.

A platter with cheese and garnishes

Cheeses in art: Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels, Clara Peeters, c. 1615

Over a thousand types of cheese exist and are produced in various countries. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and how long they have been aged. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives, or cranberries. A cheesemonger, or specialist seller of cheeses, may have expertise with selecting, purchasing, receiving, storing and ripening cheeses.[2]

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long shelf life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese.[3] Hard cheeses, such as Parmesan, last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable. Vacuum packaging of block-shaped cheeses and gas-flushing of plastic bags with mixtures of carbon dioxide and nitrogen are used for storage and mass distribution of cheeses in the 21st century.[3]

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Cheese is a dairy product produced in wide ranges of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk, usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep. During production, milk is usually acidified and the enzymes of either rennet or bacterial enzymes with similar activity are added to cause the casein to coagulate. The solid curds are then separated from the liquid whey and pressed into finished cheese.[1] Some cheeses have aromatic molds on the rind, the outer layer, or throughout.

Over a thousand types of cheese exist and are produced in various countries. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and how long they have been aged for. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives, or cranberries. A cheesemonger, or specialist seller of cheeses, may have expertise with selecting the cheeses, purchasing, receiving, storing and ripening them.[2]

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long shelf life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese.[3] Hard cheeses, such as Parmesan, last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable. Vacuum packaging of block-shaped cheeses and gas-flushing of plastic bags with mixtures of carbon dioxide and nitrogen are used for storage and mass distribution of cheeses in the 21st century.[3]

I do not find you funny

[anakinfests]

it's time for day two reveals! give these wonderful works some love, please!

01. wants and needs by matchesonlyburn

On a planet whose atmosphere is filled with a gas with... interesting side effects, Anakin and Obi-Wan are sent to take out a Separatist base. Fill for the Rough Sex square in the 2023 Obikin Bingo as well as a prompt claim for the Sub!Anakin Fest

02. bare grace misery by thedunesea

Anakin let out a pained sound. “I failed my men, I failed you, and now… and now this. Could you, Obi-Wan? Could you come from this humiliation?” His voice broke, and then he was weeping, hot tears streaming down his face even as he kept stroking himself, his sobs of shame intermingling with his whimpers of pleasure. The mixture was so unbelievably erotic Obi-Wan felt his head spin. Or: Anakin gets poisoned, and the antidote that saves his life has some uncomfortable side effects.

03. serenity, serenity by obikined

After learning that the Separatists have gained the favor of a weapons manufacturer that has the power to overturn the Clone Wars, a freshly knighted Anakin and Master Obi-Wan must infiltrate the organization's inner circle and eliminate the partnership at an exclusive event posed as black market dealers. The problem is, the two of them have to act as a married couple, Anakin assuming the role of coy, submissive husband to a domineering and firm handed Obi-Wan. Between Anakin's not-so-subtle pining, Obi-Wan's suppressed emotions, and the fate of the Republic on the line, the two of them must confront their messy feelings for one another over a game of high-stakes, winner takes all sabacc.

04. subakin and his obi-dom by stevewell0022

Anakin Skywalker was forever in denial. He could not admit, no sorry, would never accept he was a sub. No Never. He, the great and powerful Jedi Knight, was destined to be a dom, and he would not stop until his desires came to pass. Later that very same day?!!?? "Yes, Master. Thank you for allowing me to clean your boots, Master." Anakin Skywalker. Famed Jedi. Woefully and fecklessly in denial. It would take a gentle super-dom to bring Anakin to heel. Obi-Wan, the renowned selfless Jedi that he was, would of course volunteer for this heavy burden, and save the galaxy from a darker fate.

05. no fault of my own by denims

“You know you’re not supposed to like this,” Obi-Wan murmured, “and here you are, so wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you.” Anakin looked away, blinking back tears that threatened to well up in his eyes at his master’s disapproval, but he leaked more slick into his lap all the same. “I’m sorry, Master,” he quavered. “I can’t help it!”

06. en garde, prêt, allez by lemon (lemon_sprinkles)

Anakin Skywalker is a highly skilled fencer, known for his fast pace and brutal attack style. Young and arrogant, he carries himself as a man who knows he's going to win - no matter the cost. Obi-Wan Kenobi is an equally talented fencer who has more titles and championships attached to his name than most could ever dream of, and who has the respect and admiration from everyone in the community. When the two are paired off against each other during the World Championships, Anakin is caught between wanting to prove himself and win the title, and not dethroning a man who has inspired him both on and off the piste. They say never meet your heroes - and certainly never kick their ass in front of a stadium full of their peers - but winning on the piste might bring more treasures and rewards to Anakin than he ever thought possible.

07. who's loving you by demon_dean

Anakin Skywalker was the luckiest man alive. He had the relationship he had always desired. Well, almost.

08. untamed and full of teeth by deanswade

Obi-Wan felt something inside him break. It cracked and ruptured and rippled. He felt when the tongue met his skin, hot and dry. It didn't have enough strength to latch, but this boy, his boy, was smart. Obi-Wan shivered, as the boy lapped. So clever, so good, he drank until he couldn't anymore, stilling in Kenobi's hold before going lax. "Hold on for me, little one," Obi-Wan whispered, "Be brave. Don't let go." Or Obi-Wan is the owner of local high-end bar for vampires, when one night an unfortunate boy stumbles through his door, half-turned. Obi-Wan, who had never made a fledgling before, falls for Anakin hard and fast.