#as if 1 string per finger slicing into it is not enough

[lindenmori]

you know what they were right when they named the veggie slicer thing mandolin as well. because ow owie ouchie

[ophidian-mystic]

Visionary, Act 1.

“A productive day is one that finds everything reach a finality. Everything reaches closure. It begins with a catalyst. A catalyst incites action. Action causes reaction. Reaction becomes result and the result becomes the finality.” - Fifth Adviser Gregor Lytal at founding of the Obsidian Reign.

Life for Themia Al-Lāt was a simple one. She was not rich, no never that. Wealth came and flowed through her fingers with relative ease but never did she once hoard it and accumulate enough to raise herself out of the simple one bedroom apartment that she now called home. No, she had been given many opportunities to relocate and the most recent would have found her taking residence within the Obsidian Palace itself, sequestered away somewhere deep within that labyrinthine fortress of black stone and silky marbled columns. Forever embraced by the strangeness of the Xerxian seat of power and forever within whispering distance of the Padishah. 

She could never live with that sort of power. It was intoxicating after all.

No, she much preferred the simplicity of her small little slice of hab. She cooked modest meals, storing away excess for later consumption. She stretched and performed her required workout regime upon an old rug with decorative basalt columns threaded on the designs face and used what minimal weights she could to maintain at least some semblance of strength. 

As far as appearances went she was relatively unassuming. Tall, thin and slender body with modest muscle and carrying with her an air of anonymity born from an existence kept away from social engagement. Her shoulders were broad, back straight and unharmed from years at a desk, and her stance was always one of intrigue or curiosity. Wavy jet black hair flowed down behind her ears, wrapped in a neat red ponytail and threaded with several Cohort approved jewelry strands. All of this cloaked in a uniform of tan regalia, crimson stripped and pointed at her shoulders. On top of this rested an auburn half-robe or occasionally a grey poncho, tattered with damage and wear. Then of course was her hood, a standard veil complete with a headdress with comfortably thin backing to let her head breath. 

She passed easily enough as a standard run of the mill Cohort member and Themia loved to keep it that way. It was a great sock factor when she delivered her title before an unassuming rank and file or among nobility. Rumors and hearsay painted a very pretty picture of the Ophidian Order’s dealings and that could be more than enough to negate a mark’s intent to assault.

Themia Al-Lāt was of the Ophidia. No, it is more correct to say the Ophidia were born from Themia Al-Lāt. Her dedication to her craft and to the neo-beliefs of Xerxian mysticism birthed an entire sub-order within the Pentacle of the Snake. Sub-orders themselves aren’t rare occurrences but to credit the creation of one to a single person is without a doubt unique. As such, Themia’s pitch for it’s creation was deemed something worthy enough for the Padishah herself to voice her approval and set about the creation of such an esoteric order among her beloved Pentacles. 

But what is life if not a gaggle of mystery?

“A puppet on strings. Strings to be cut and severed. We are not the puppet nor the master. We are the thinness between. We are the severed of ties.” Themia grins now as she whispers her final focusing chant. Her eyes blink and the slits of their hetero-chromatic abnormality flashes between light green and gold to gold and light green. The order was named after it’s master and Themia carried with her the feral, prideful understanding of the Serpeant in both mind and in appearance. She was an abhuman, a daeva, and with all the best cloaks and covers all that set her apart from the standard human masses were her strange eyes and the fangs glistening behind her lips.

She set off as she normally did, moving through her hab-complex with relative normality. She waved and signed hello to the usual occupants, giving her thanks and blessings for the day to a couple who had recently given her a set of plates after finding out Themia only used disposable ones. This had been a particularly thoughtful gift and as such Themia instead displayed them on a shelf rather than deeming to use them. Sentimentality mattered in those tiny moments and already she felt the ripples of ‘friendship’ begin to scurry out. She would have to offer something in return later, perhaps food or an embellished pastry.

She mused on this as she hummed and moved down the last steps and out into the open air of Xerxes proper. A cold, brisk wind bit at her cloaks and she shivered reflexively, pulling the cover closer to her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the cold, no there was actually much to love about it. But it did upset somethings when it really began to bite and Themia could taste the beginnings of a storm at the back of her throat. Increase in moisture, the tang of coastal air, and the missing stars all seemed to prove her point. The tiny details.

“Cloud coverage? Forecast has been wrong three days in a row now.” She scoffed and then laughed it off as her more reputable sources had already confirmed this. She moved through steadily populating streets watching as Xerxian’s from all walks of life woke for their morning rituals. Most were on their way to work as she was. Others out to do some early shopping or to catch up with needed chores. Themia took in all the details that her mind would allow, constructing routines and theory-crafting stories about those around her as if she were a narrator introducing characters upon a stage. She drummed up occupations from their stances, easily denoted lifestyle by the outfits they wore, and took greater joy in figuring out age if she could. A Xerxian’s life span was a long one and age did not mean the same thing as it did in Imperial space. Xerxes was set on it’s axis and days were measured in hours per the norm, but night was near perpetual for the hive-city. As such Xerxian Standard was close to twice Terran.

Themia broke away from her stray thoughts and focused back into reality. She could get lost in the act if she let herself and that was dangerous. The Ishan needed her and there was so much yet to do so that the great game could continue.

[corbinhunter]

I wanted to build a foam pirate ship for my 5e D&D campaign but I couldn't find any resources, so I figured it out for myself. The deck has magnets in it to function as a grid. So... here’s a shitty guide (WITH PICTURES) if you want to build one, too.

If you have done this before or have other resources, link them for others who want to try their hand at it (and so I can see). If you have suggestions on how things could be done faster or better, feel free to leave suggestions for future generations. And for me in case I ever build another one. This was my first time doing anything remotely terrain-y or set-piece-y, so I really can't give very good advice. But I couldn't quite find anything that matched what I wanted to build, so I figured this would be worth posting.

The benefits of building a foam boat instead of just buying a model ship or something come down to: a) scale: built it to 1 inch = 5 feet so your minis look good and any other props or grids you have work seamlessly. b) customizability: include the exact things you want in the game. God forbid if your players trash the ship in the game you can alter the model for a shipwreck or something (@ my players: fucking don't, please). c) accessibility: don't include anything you don't want, so the deck is uncluttered and there are no sails or rigging to try to reach around. Also the flat bottom means it doesn't need a stand. The foam construction makes it lightweight. d) magnets: make everything stick to the deck. The actual reason I built this boat. I love the magnets and they were a good choice.

The cons are: a) it's annoying and takes a long time (not too hard, just tedious). b) it's a bit fragile, especially the details and small bits. c) all your minis need an extra base for the magnets. Or I guess you could maybe stick the magnets into existing bases. I'm not an expert or anything.

This is gonna be the shittiest tutorial you've ever read so prepare yourself.

Actual guide:

1: step one is to draw out the boat. Scale is pretty key. Keep in mind that minis can't really fit on anything that's not a full square, so alter the proportions to maximize playable area. I altered the layout as I went to get rid of awkward spaces. Research galleons and frigates. I focused around 17-18th century but the coolest ships come after that. Make a boat that you love with however much realism you prefer.

2: get yourself supplies. You need:

polystyrene foam, about six pieces 10 inches by 24 inches apiece. I got a 96" sheet and used about half of it.

wood glue

paintbrushes, pens, pencils, scissors, utility knives with lots of spare blades, hot glue gun

drywall mud or something similar

wooden dowels, rods, skewers, toothpicks

popsicle sticks in a couple sizes

grid paper for templates

push pins to hold templates

yarn or string that looks like rope

sandpaper

beads (optional, see detail shots)

fridge magnets for embedding into the deck and attaching to the minis

clay to make a figurehead (not pictured) or a Barbie or something

3: trace out the cross sections (floorplans) onto the foam pieces by pinning grid paper to the foam, and cut them out. The curved deck makes this a real pain, because the floor plans don't perfectly map to the foam pieces. The decks are curved but the foam pieces are not. There's a bit of mental gymnastics in this part but you basically cut each foam piece to its widest dimension, then taper, trim and curve it to fit the profile you want after the basic shape is established. I cut everything out just slightly too large so I could trim and adjust it without losing usable space. After you have the top-down profiles correct, start tackling the side-view, which is the deck profile itself. In that picture just about everything is done but the main deck (fore- and aftdeck are nice and curved but the lowest deck is still flat). Pin it in place with toothpicks and glue it together with wood glue overnight. Leave weight on it. Let it dry for like 12+ hours for sure. I messed with it early and popped the aftcastle off, which was extremely annoying.

4: pick it up as one big solid piece and use a knife to slice away inconsistencies and match up the foam pieces better. Then sand it, mud it, let it dry and sand it again. I used lots of mud on the front edge because my cut-out pieces didn't quite match up. Fill up any weird cracks or miscuts that have developed. You can actually get away with adding quite a bit of mass this way. This is the final shaping of the basic form of the boat. Get a bit excited. Up to this point it's a lot of work for basically a big foam block that looks sort of like a boat. But take your time because you can't un-fuck the symmetry later.

5: paint the main deck, then trace a grid out and install one magnet per space. A drill or something would probably do wonders here. I just used a knife and some wood glue. Make sure every magnet has the same side up, and make sure they are pretty flush with the deck. I made bases for the minis out of foam and installed magnets in the bottom similarly. If you're fancy maybe little wooden or metal bases would be cool. Don't put any of the magnets the wrong way -- all the minis are supposed to be attracted to the boat deck so they don't slide around, fall over or get jostled.

6: cut a bunch of floorboards and paint and install them. Take popsicle sticks, slice off the rounded ends, and split them lengthwise with a knife. Paint roughly with one layer of brown to preserve some of the natural wood grain. Then cut them to various sizes -- whatever you think is right. Half of mine were 2", the rest were 1" or 3". Keep scale in mind. If you make them too wide, it'll kill the look. To fit the planks to the curve of the deck, just gently bend them with your fingers. Spread a layer of wood glue on the deck in sections and use your drawn-on gridlines as guides as you place plank by plank. A pattern would be clever. I just stuck whatever fit on. Go around any features like stairs, grates and masts. I left about an eighth of an inch around the perimeter for the railing/barrier later. Make stairs and stick them into the deck, and carve exterior stairs out of foam and glue them in place. Keep that eighth-inch perimeter in mind as you shape the stairs and place them.

7: base coat the rest of the thing. Don't actually put the masts in here because you'll be fighting with them for the rest of the build.

8: add a thin, 3/4-inch barrier around the perimeter and a prow structure. I traced the deck profile roughly onto paper, drew the barrier, cut it out of the paper, tested it on the ship and adjusted as necessary before transferring it to foam and cutting it out. Be really careful with the thickness. Don't slice it in half or break it. Cut cannon-crenelations out as well as the space where the plank goes. I stuck it down by sticking toothpicks straight down through it into the bare deck. This was probably a mistake. It's not sturdy or precise. I added some hot glue here (for the first time in the build) to fill in little cracks and adhere it better. You're on your own for the prow -- make it out of foam in two halves and glue it on. Good luck. If you look at reference you can make a way cooler one than me.

9: make windows, deck rails, a wheel, cannons, grates, swivel guns, and a border that covers the seam between the deck and perimeter railing. The window-frames are each a single piece of foam sliced thinly and wood-glued into position. If you know how, you could make them out of wood. Deck rails are square foam rails top and bottom, joined by toothpick posts. The wheel is foam with toothpicks stuck into it. The cannons are thin wooden dowels with carved foam bases glued together. Adding wheels to the bases would be cool but fragile and tedious. One of the grates is a foam border with toothpick cross-parts and the other one has a wooden frame made from popsicle sticks. Do whatever you prefer. Swivel guns are little foam tubes with toothpicks that attach them to the railing. This allows them to swivel. You could probably make them out of skewers or something instead of foam. The border (red part along the side) helps hide sloppiness between the hull and barrier, and adds some complexity to the shape. You could make it much thinner than I did if you have a steady hand or a wire foam cutter. Or more patience with sandpaper. Real ships have super cool features like this, so use reference and add whatever you can get away with, I guess. This is probably a better time to add the masts. Sharpen them and jam them in or bore holes and glue them.

10: add painted details, "rigging", nets and ropes, as well as anything else you want. I have a longboat hanging off the back of the ship, but you could also place it in the middle of the main deck. The rigging I added is composed of popsicle stick planks stuck to the side of the ship, with painted wooden beads glued onto that. It's not even nearly accurate, but I think it gives the rough impression of the pulleys that are on real boats. I used gold paint for detailing which I definitely recommend. Netting would be cool but I couldn't find a non-intrusive way to add any. Of course oars, buckets, crates, sacks, lanterns and all sorts of other props will look neat. I opted not to add those in order to keep things simple, as we'd just be taking them off or getting annoyed with them during combat. I made a balcony off the back out of popsicle sticks and stuck/glued it on. It's out of scale, but large enough for characters to stand on. Put little ladder boards onto the side of the ship and anywhere else you want them. Up a mast would be cool. Doorframes and square window-frames can be made with planks like the deck. I decided against any sorts of crow's nests or cross-masts to keep things simple and easy to see/reach around. I think more delicately sculpted embellishments would look very cool added on, but could not figure out a decent way to make them. Printing them out on thick paper, cutting them out and glueing those on might do the trick.

That's the whole guide. I would have done a better one but I forgot to take pictures. Feel free to ask questions and I'll do my best to answer.

[baekyeolife]

26000 (Baekyeol)-- Part 3

WARNING: Mentions of Stockholm Syndrome and Rated R content/implications! Please do read at your own discretion. 

Here are the links to part 1 and 2 for those who didn't read it before: 

Part 1: http://baekyeolife.tumblr.com/post/150225337752/26000 

Part 2: http://baekyeolife.tumblr.com/post/153612103862/26000-part-ii —————————————————————–  

It was cold, but Baekhyun had adapted to such icy temperatures long ago. Now, however, it was more brutal as he stood bare in front of the man who had handed him this blizzard to begin with. He slid his callused finger up and down his leg, slow and steady. His gaze, however, was feisty and hungry.  

“You’re so pretty. Imagine how delicious you’re going to look when I’m done with you.” Chanyeol’s murky voice wormed its way into Baekhyun’s dense ears. He swallowed and gasped when Chanyeol squeezed whatever was left of his manhood down below, inside that uncomfortable thong.

He grabbed the powdered leggings and pulled them up his twig-like legs in one stroke. They weren’t even that tight on him, nothing was anymore. Chanyeol then moved onto the tight charcoal skirt that barely reached Baekhyun’s mid thigh. He didn’t complain, though. He couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to.

“Twirl around for me.”

Baekhyun licked his lips at the request, but walked back one step and spun on his heel no less. Their gazes connected and he cowered down as Chanyeol approached him, towering over his small, dainty body. He placed his hands around both of his upper arms and squeezed. Not too hard, but not too soft either. Baekhyun looked straight at Chanyeol’s unkept v-neck.

“You’re something, something magical.” He tilted Baekhyun’s chin up to face him, then bent down to suck on the side of his neck. He tried not to writhe. “Come, let’s place the final touches.”

Chanyeol placed an auburn wig atop his head and gave him a once-over with the utmost amount of curiosity. But Baekhyun didn’t know what he even had to be curious about, Chanyeol knew him inside and out. He was the one who baited him and absorbed every inch of him until he was nothing but the naked truth. He molted him and built him up into a strong tower, then crashed the hard structure into the smallest of particles.

They ended up on the old mattress that had memorized the hard vibrations of their bodies. It knew Baekhyun and his whimpers, it knew Chanyeol and his forceful movements, it knew. It was the only one that knew.

Chanyeol touched him all over his body, leaving his marks whenever he felt inclined. Usually it was on his hips, ribs, the side of his stomach, and the corner between his neck and shoulder. After he bit each part that he desired, Baekhyun braced himself for the hard pounding.

Chanyeol never waited to stretch him out before slamming straight into him– he always went right down to business. Baekhyun snapped his head to the side as his eyes came to a tight close, back arching and lips folding in between his teeth. Chanyeol smirked as he picked up his speed. Oh how he loved the sight.

Baekhyun was so close to his peak, but he held it in. Chanyeol never let him come unless he told him to. He made the mistake of losing his willpower one day. He never saw a dinner plate for two weeks straight.

The intensity became so high that Baekhyun began to beg, “P-Please… C-Chanyeol, ah.”

Chanyeol didn’t falter in his speedy pace, but allowed him to come only after he had emptied his own strings into him.

They laid there like they always did. Baekhyun scooting closer to lay his head against Chanyeol’s sweaty chest, a plethora of thoughts going through his mind. It was shameful above all, because even though it hurt and dehumanized him, he still liked being touched by Chanyeol. Even though something was clearly wrong with Chanyeol, Baekhyun felt that he belonged there. Like he deserved all that was coming to him.

A knocking sound suddenly cut through his self-evaluation, however, and caused Chanyeol to sigh. “I’ll be back.” He had said, causing Baekhyun to push himself off to allow him to get up.

He watched as Chanyeol lazily put his briefs and wife beater back on, then saw him out the door. A few clinks and clacks echoed through the door, ensuring that there was no way for Baekhyun to get out. He was used to it, though. Chanyeol made sure of it every time he left the room.

Turning over to his side, Baekhyun stared at the vast darkness of the wall. He always found that it resembled his life. It was bland, cold, and shaded for all eternity. That was until it would eventually crack and perish with the wind, which was also how he predicted his end to be.

He thought about how unfaithful he had been to Chanyeol in the past. How he chose to leave like it was only his business, when it clearly had been Chanyeol’s as well. If only he had withstood the pain, the roughness, and the headaches he would not be there, confined in the middle of four walls. Or maybe he would be, who knows.

All he was aware of was that he deserved all that landed upon his cruel fate.

He released a groan at these irking cognitions and swiped dainty fingers over his angular face. They always knocked on the door of his conscience and brought him nothing but trouble. It made him crave for Chanyeol’s hard hand, for the chains that he would put on him when he acted wrongly, for the days where Chanyeol wouldn’t allow him to eat because he didn’t look pleasing. It made him long for them like they were essential to survival when in reality, they were detrimental.

Footsteps pounded against the ground and the locks jingled as Chanyeol reopened the door. This was usually when he came back to sleep with him for a couple more hours, until he would leave him to his demons.

In the morning, Baekhyun woke up to an otherwise empty bed as per usual. But when he turned to his side, he spotted something he hadn’t seen in years: a piece of paper. It was rather small, though, and very crumbled. He sat up and picked it up regardless, a spark of fascination keen in his eyes.

Byun Baekhyun, if you’ve received this message I want you to read each word carefully. I know that Chanyeol has you imprisoned inside, but I’m having trouble getting to you. Chanyeol won’t let me get close, so I need you to do something important. On the back of this note is a stamp, I want you to take it and stick it on the back of Chanyeol’s shirt so I know that you got this message. You must do this at 3 in the afternoon, alright? Please don’t hesitate. And whatever you do: DO NOT TELL CHANYEOL ABOUT THIS. Help is coming.

- Kim Jongdae

He turned the note around and surely enough, he found the stamp waiting for him to pull it out. And for the first time in years, Baekhyun had a new thing to think about. The first thing that came to mind was: what if this was a trick? What if Chanyeol had written this out to see if Baekhyun would be disloyal once more? What if this was just an elaborate ruse that will sentence him to more treachery?

But then again, he noticed how distinct the smell of this note was. It smelled of something sweet, something Baekhyun can’t quite put his finger on because of how long it’s been since he had smelt something other than dust and smoke. In short, it smelt nothing like Chanyeol.

He turned to look at the clock hung up on the ebony wall; it was 12:30. He only had two hours and thirty minutes to decide if he wished to remain in this helpless condition. He only had two hours and thirty minutes to think about something he never thought he would have the chance to ponder upon: freedom.

The clock struck 2:50 and Baekhyun was standing in front of the door like a lost puppy, thoughts in complete and utter disarray. He was shaking as his small fist reached for the door, hovering over it as sweat trickled all around the skin. Taking in one giant breath, he thought to himself, whoever you are Kim Jongdae, I hope that you are real.

Baekhyun pressed his knuckles against the surface and allowed the noise to echo outside the room for once. He knocked another time and another until he heard the locks begin to tick from the other side. He swallowed heavily.

“Why are you knocking? Were you trying something?” Chanyeol immediately questioned, to which Baekhyun’s heart beat ran through the roof. There was no turning back now.

“I-I just, u-uh, mi-missed you.” He wetted his lips and dared to look up at the deep set eyes. They were the color of the walls that he’s been staring at for years. The only color he knew.

Chanyeol smirked, “Hungry for more already, eh? Well baby, I wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. Tonight we’ll go longer, harder.” He swung Baekhyun in with his arm so that their chests were pressed against each other, Chanyeol’s breath hovering over his neck. Without warning, he began to bite down on the flesh like it was his dinner platter.

Gritting his teeth together, he shakingly encircled his arm around Chanyeol’s tall frame and pressed his hands firmly against his back, praying that his sweat had not relieved the stamp of its job.

The rest was out of his hands, quite literally and metaphorically.

“Go back inside now, I’ll be back.” Chanyeol sent him back and filled his ears with the locking sounds once more.

Five minutes later, after laying his head against the headboard and biting on his misshapen nails, he heard a knock. It wasn’t against his door though, it must have been the front door. Instinctively, his eyes shot up at the clock. It read 3:00. His pulse quickened and he braced himself– for what, though, he had no idea. Such a rush was unfamiliar to him, he hadn’t felt anything like it in over a decade.

He waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing. For some reason this relieved him, he began to regret ever thinking about leaving Chanyeol. It’s all he ever thought about, and now he was returning to old habits–

Slicing right through his hectic thoughts, the door suddenly vibrated on its ground as a hard force pushed against it from the other side. “Baekhyun! Baekhyun are you in there?!” The voice strung a chord within him and brought his pulse back up to speed.

He swallowed and stood up, fingers muddling together nervously. He had no idea what to do, no idea what to think.

“J-Jongdae?” He questioned, uncertainty pronounced more than the actual name itself.

“Baekhyun! Step back, I’m breaking this door!”

He did as told and the thumping grew more aggressive with each hit until the door came tumbling down. A man about his height came flying along with it, and when their eyes met, Baekhyun habitually pressed his back on the wall.

“I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but we have to get out of here before Chanyeol comes back. I called the cops so they should be on their way.” He advanced towards him, and with that, Baekhyun grew more anxious. Thus, Jongdae’s expression loosened up. “Please, I am here to help you. I know that we have never met before, but you are going to have to trust me if you want to get out of here.”

He reached out a hand for him to take, and with much hesitance, Baekhyun settled his palm onto his and allowed Jongdae to lead him out. They walked up the flight of stairs and reached the main room, but as they ran towards the exit, the door was flung open and Chanyeol emerged with a gun in hand. He had it pointed out in their direction, Jongdae’s more than his.

“I told you to stay out of my business, Jongdae.” He spat out while walking closer to them. He stopped when the muzzle pressed against Jongdae’s forehead.

“Clearly this isn’t just your business– how dare you lock Baekhyun in here like some puppet? Have you no sanity?” Jongdae didn’t even consider the lethal weapon, whereas Baekhyun was squeezing his hand ever so tightly, signalling him to stop talking. That when Chanyeol is angry, it’s best not to fuel the fire. Jongdae squeezed back, though, in a more reassuring manner.

“Don’t act like you care about Baekhyun. You just want him for yourself, like with everything that was mine when we were younger! Well too bad, you can’t have Baekhyun. He’s mine, and always will be. You can’t steal him!” Chanyeol put strength in his gun hand, but Jongdae did not falter. Baekhyun noticed something in the glint of their eyes, the glint that had stayed prosperous no matter what obstacle was in the way– it was identical.

“Do you really have the guts to kill your own brother? And over what? Something as horrible as this? You’re commiting a crime Chanyeol, a crime. Don’t you realize–”

“–Shut up! I’m the one with the gun, I’m the one who decides your fate.”

Police sirens suddenly reverberated in the far distance, and Jongdae smirked. “Looks like you’re going to rot in prison regardless of what you choose.” And without a seconds notice, he threw himself at Chanyeol with such agility and swiftness that Baekhyun had trouble processing what had just happened.

Jongdae had wrestled Chanyeol to the ground and kicked the gun to the side. Baekhyun trembled as he watched the scene unravel before him, and what made things worse was that Chanyeol was the one who was on top now, but with a pocket knife. His eyes automatically flickered towards the gun on the ground and without a second thought, he reached out for it and pointed it at Chanyeol.

“Stop! Stop all of t-this right now!” His sore throat screeched, tears hot on his face.

Both Jongdae and Chanyeol’s head darted at him, but Chanyeol’s laugh penetrated through the tense mood like a bullet.

“Put that gun down, you don’t know how to use it. Go back to your room.” Chanyeol ordered, and although the wavering gun may have proven his point, he did not succumb as he would have.

“N-No. You-You’re not a real lover! You never were! You’ve tra-trapped me all these years as nothing but your s-sex slave! Y-You ruined me! I-I’m done following your orders!” He grasped onto the gun with both unsteady hands.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened, but he didn’t poke him further. He slowly began to get off of Jongdae, and with that, the gun followed. “Don’t m-make a move. I s-swear I’ll do it!”

“Think about this Baekhyun, would you really want to kill me? I’m all you have– all you’ll ever have. Ending me, would end you.” He released pure and utter venom,  but after all these years, Baekhyun failed to notice that that was all he ever released.

“Don’t listen to him Baekhyun– you’ve got so much more to life for!” Jongdae got up and made sure to say, causing Chanyeol to flinch towards him, but Baekhyun reinforced the gun at him and halted his movements.

“Is freedom what you want? Because I’ll give it to you– just you and me. We can go anywhere you want, together. Don’t you love me? Everything I have ever done was to protect you. I love you, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol’s words slowly sank into Baekhyun’s brain and caused him to gradually lower the gun.

Just as his arms were giving out, he suddenly went in for Jongdae with the knife and Baekhyun’s arms acted without even thinking first. And like that, the shot was fired.

It echoed throughout his ears like a bomb, growing larger with each moment and then fading into oblivion. His breathing increased as he watched Chanyeol’s lifeless body plummet to the floor, limbless.

He was now free, but felt more caged up than ever.

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

CSA WEEK 7

p i c k l i s t

Tomatoes - Carmen Sweet Pepper (big) - Jalapeno Pepper (little) - Purple Pepper - 

Pickling Cucumbers - Parsley - Corn - Garlic - Blueberries

Yall. I unintentionally included two recipes that are far too long to offer field reports from the week (because i limit myself to a one sheet print out per CSAer)- HOWEVER, the following recipes are important (to me) and can be used throughout the Summer in many ways as they are both extremely adaptable with the current influx of cabbage heads and otherwise.  Also, if you have not done so and are curious about fermented foods, the second recipe on sauerkraut is your gateway to filling your house with never enough crocks and never enough cabbage, etc…   And just so I don’t leave you completely hanging on field reports: An amazing amount of hours were spent this week picking blueberries.  

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES:

LENTIL, CABBAGE, AND FETA SALAD WITH FRIZZLED ONIONS BY LUKAS VOLGER

JENNY’S NOTE: My house has been eating this once a week since cabbage has been field ready.  We never have all the ingredients.  Many times we’ve made this without the lentils or onion- BUT the main players here are cabbage, feta, toasted almonds and fresh herbs, salt, and dressong.  If you can gather those essential foods then chop on and eat up!  (Also, I use the term “we” incredibly loosely, as my dear friend/housemate Rich, has been doing the cooking here). 

Also, the book this recipe is from, START SIMPLE by Lukas Volger (Copyright © 2020 by Lukas Volger. Published by Harper Wave, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.) proves to be an excellent Summer eating resource.

INGREDIENTS:

½ cup brown, black or dark green lentils

Salt

½ medium white or yellow onion

Olive oil

5 cups sliced cabbage

¼ teaspoon sugar

2 tablespoons red or white wine vinegar

2 teaspoons dijon mustard

¼ teaspoon honey

½ cup crumbled feta cheese

1.2 cup coarsely chopped toasted almonds

½ cup parsley leaves or dill fronds

Combine the lentils with 1 cup water and ½ teaspoon salt in a small saucepan.  Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook until tender, 12 to 18 minutes, depending on which lentils you use.  Drain off and liquid left in the pan and allow to cool.

(JENNY’S NOTE: SO FAR, WE HAVE NOT DONE THE FOLLOWING BECAUSE THE ONIONS HAVE ONLY RECENTLY STARTED PUTTING ON SIZE, IT SOUNDS DELISH, BUT FEEL FREE TO SKIP IF YOU DON’T HAVE ANY ONIONS)  Meanwhile, slice the onion into paper-thin wasps, preferably using a mandolin, or working carefully with a chef’s knife.  Warm about ¼ inch of the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat.  Dip a piece of onion into it to ensure it’s properly hot- it should sizzle immediately- then add all the onions.  Cook, stirring often with a fork, untl they get crispy and turn a reddish-brown color, 10 to 20 minutes. Watch carefully for the final few minutes, as they burn easily.  Use a slotted spoon to transfer them to a paper towel- lined plate and sprinkle with salt.  SAVE THE OIL!

When the oil has cooled until it’s safe to handle, strain it through a fine mesh sieve or coffee filter to remove all solids into a glass jar (I use a 3-inch strainer for this task).

Toss the cabbage, ½ teaspoon of salt, and the sugar in a colander and let soften for 15 to 30 minutes, then gentlypress with a spatula to drain off excess liquid.  

Combine the vinegar, mustard, and honey in a jar, along with the 3 tablespoons of the cooled onion-cooking oil.  Shake to emulsify.  

Fold the cabbage, lentils, cheese, almonds, and parsley leaves with most of the dressing in a serving bowl.  Taste and add more dressing if needed.  Pile the frizzled onions on top, tossing them into the salad at the table it’s being served.  

(JENNYS NOTE: The following recipe has actually change my life)

Written by Sandor Katz

Sandor Ellix Katz, the creator of this site, has earned the nickname “Sandorkraut” for his love of sauerkraut. This is Sandorkaut’s easy sauerkraut recipe from his book  Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods (Chelsea Green, 2003).

Timeframe: 3 days to 3 months (and beyond) Vessel: 1-quart/1-liter wide-mouth jar, or a larger jar or crock

Ingredients (for 1 quart/1 liter):

2 pounds/1 kilogram of vegetables per quart/liter, any varieties of cabbage alone or in combination, or at least half cabbage and the remainder any combination of radishes, turnips, carrots, beets, kohlrabi, Jerusalem artichokes, onions, shallots, leeks, garlic, greens, peppers, or other vegetables

Approximately 1 tablespoon salt (start with a little less, add if needed after tasting)

Other seasonings as desired, such as caraway seeds (for classic kraut), juniper berries, dill, chili peppers, ginger, turmeric, dried cranberries, or whatever you can conjure in your imagination

 Process:

Prepare the vegetables. Remove the outer leaves of the cabbage and reserve. Scrub the root vegetables but do not peel. Chop or grate all vegetables into a bowl. The purpose of this is to expose surface area in order to pull water out of the vegetables, so that they can be submerged under their own juices. The finer the veggies are shredded, the easier it is to get juices out, but fineness or coarseness can vary with excellent results.

Salt and season. Salt the vegetables lightly and add seasonings as you chop. Sauerkraut does not require heavy salting. Taste after the next step and add more salt or seasonings, if desired. It is always easier to add salt than to remove it. (If you must, cover the veggies with dechlorinated water, let this sit for 5 minutes, then pour off the excess water.)

Squeeze the salted vegetables with your hands for a few minutes (or pound with a blunt tool). This bruises the vegetables, breaking down cell walls and enabling them to release their juices. Squeeze until you can pick up a handful and when you squeeze, juice releases (as from a wet sponge).

Pack the salted and squeezed vegetables into your jar. Press the vegetables down with force, using your fingers or a blunt tool, so that air pockets are expelled and juice rises up and over the vegetables. Fill the jar not quite all the way to the top, leaving a little space for expansion. The vegetables have a tendency to float to the top of the brine, so it’s best to keep them pressed down, using one of the cabbage’s outer leaves, folded to fit inside the jar, or a carved chunk of a root vegetable, or a small glass or ceramic insert. Screw the top on the jar; lactic acid bacteria are anaerobic and do not need oxygen (though they can function in the presence of oxygen). However, be aware that fermentation produces carbon dioxide, so pressure will build up in the jar and needs to be released daily, especially the first few days when fermentation will be most vigorous.

Wait. Be sure to loosen the top to relieve pressure each day for the first few days. The rate of fermentation will be faster in a warm environment, slower in a cool one. Some people prefer their krauts lightly fermented for just a few days; others prefer a stronger, more acidic flavor that develops over weeks or months. Taste after just a few days, then a few days later, and at regular intervals to discover what you prefer. Along with the flavor, the texture changes over time, beginning crunchy and gradually softening. Move to the refrigerator if you wish to stop (or rather slow) the fermentation. In a cool environment, kraut can continue fermenting slowly for months. In the summer or in a heated room, its life cycle is more rapid; eventually it can become soft and mushy.

Surface growth. The most common problem that people encounter in fermenting vegetables is surface growth of yeasts and/or molds, facilitated by oxygen. Many books refer to this as “scum,” but I prefer to think of it as a bloom. It’s a surface phenomenon, a result of contact with the air. If you should encounter surface growth, remove as much of it as you can, along with any discolored or soft kraut from the top layer, and discard. The fermented vegetables beneath will generally look, smell, and taste fine. The surface growth can break up as you remove it, making it impossible to remove all of it. Don’t worry.

Enjoy your kraut! I start eating it when the kraut is young and enjoy its evolving flavor over the course of a few weeks (or months in a large batch). Be sure to try the sauerkraut juice that will be left after the kraut is eaten. Sauerkraut juice packs a strong flavor, and is unparalleled as a digestive tonic or hangover cure.   Develop a rhythm. Start a new batch before the previous one runs out. Get a few different flavors or styles going at once for variety. Experiment!

When you buy fresh parsley, trim the ends off the stems right when you get home, and stick it in a cup (or a pretty little vase!) of water, as you would for cut flowers. If you don’t use it all right away, change the water every day. Don’t let it go to waste! Start putting it on everything. Don’t take the simplest, loveliest things for granted.

1. Put chopped parsley on everything: Don’t chop it too finely — bigger pieces are prettier and have more flavor. Throw it with abandon on top of grilled vegetables, roasted potatoes, a cold green-bean salad, stews, soups, pasta, hot or cold grain dishes like couscous or quinoa or tabbouleh or …

2. Make a super-simple parsley salad: Throw it together along the lines of the Epicurious recipe that involves just a couple-few cups of Italian parsley leaves, a couple tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil, a teaspoon of fresh lemon juice and a little salt (or, to get fancy, substitute umeboshi vinegar for the salt).

3. Make a slightly more complicated parsley salad: Try (or make your own variation on) Alton Brown’s parsley salad recipe, with flat-leaf parsley, lemon juice, lemon zest, walnut and sesame oil, honey and sesame seeds. Find it online, along with a minute-long video in which he declares it’s “perfectly capable of playing first string” — my hero! And he notes that this parsley salad keeps for three weeks (!?) in the refrigerator, though how you wouldn’t eat it all up immediately is a mystery.

4. Make a salad with lots of parsley in it: Tear up any mild lettuce (butter is nice), and mix in plenty of Italian or curly parsley, roughly chopped (a cup or even two!), then dress with a favorite vinaigrette. I know this sounds boring. It is not. Or …

5. Make super-delicious creamy parsley salad dressing, and put it on a salad with lots of parsley in it: It’s just ½ cup plain Greek yogurt (whole milk is best), ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, ¼ cup (or more!) fresh parsley (either kind), kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper, all mixed up together — chop the parsley and mix by hand, or use an immersion blender (easiest cleanup), regular blender or food processor. This also makes a great dip for vegetables. Or for chips. Or your life in general. This dressing is really, truly, surprisingly spectacular. (I stole the idea from Amy Pennington’s cookbook “Salad Days,” which has the same recipe but calls for dill. Nobody truly loves dill.)

6. Make tomato-parsley sumac salad:Mehdi Boujrada of local spice-and-oil company Villa Jerada sent me this one, and it is good. Combine 2 tomatoes (roughly diced), ¼ cup white onion (more finely diced) and ½ cup parsley leaves (roughly chopped); drizzle with olive oil; then add sumac, salt and pepper to taste (start slowly, mix, add more, and when it starts to taste marvelous, add yet a little bit more).

7. Put parsley in a smoothie: This comes from Becky Selengut’s “How to Taste,” and she promises it gives “a burst of brightness.” (She also mentions doing this with mint … sure, fine.) Another Selengut parsley hint: Instead of discarding stems, stow them in a bag in the freezer, and throw them in when making stock.

8. Make a super-simple parsley sauce, and put it on everything: Put a half a bunch of parsley (use mostly leaves, about a cup), a clove of garlic (I prefer a smaller one or half a big one), ½ teaspoon of kosher salt and about ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil together, and blend well. You could add lemon juice and zest, and call it gremolata; add toasted nuts and Parmesan, and make it pesto; sub a bit of shallot for the garlic; add a little anchovy paste for a lot more oomph (but less pure parsley taste). Again, an immersion blender is your friend here, though a regular one or a food processor is fine; you also could chop and blend by hand. This sauce is magical on a juicy steak, or a piece of fish (maybe cooked en papillote), or on vegetables, or inside a grilled-cheese sandwich, or drizzled on a soup or stew, or … It also keeps for a long time in the fridge — just let it warm to room temperature to use.

9. Make garlic-parsley butter, and apply with abandon: Called, fancily, “Beurre Maître d’Hôtel” in French, this is just butter (say ½ cup), fresh lemon juice (a tablespoon or so), garlic (optional, a clove or two, minced finely) and finely chopped parsley (¼ cup) creamed together — start with the butter alone, then slowly add the rest in order. Add a little lemon zest for more, well, zestiness. Again, apply to seafood, grilled meat, vegetables, life.

You might think it’s weird to love parsley, but you’ll see!

Bethany Jean Clement is The Seattle Times’ food writer. Reach her at bclement@seattletimes.com or 206-464-2050. On Twitter: @BJeanClement

[joonotopia]

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

please read this post carefully, and follow what it says.

i am trying to make it as short as possible, because way more often than not, i noticed that people don't bother reading everything carefully. and i'd rather not get annoyed.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the type.

this is a boy x boy roleplay, preferably advanced literate, but anywhere between it and semi lit is fine. the only thing i am asking for is at least 7 lines. for reference, the most that i ever wrote per reply reached to 10 messages (as amino has the character limit). also keep in mind that these kind of replies may take hours to write, so patience is key with me. if you are a naturally inpatient person, than i am not suitable for you. also, my schedule is packed, so i might not be able to reply for up to a whole week on bad days. bare with me and i'll do the same.

i am not picky when it comes to capitalization, but please try to have an at least average grammar and punctuation. nobody's perfect, english may not be your first language or even your second language, but please, at least know the difference between "your" and "you're" and where to but your commas, because i saw people who " literally typed like this ,and it annoyed me greatly .it is a pet peeve of mine ."

i would prefer the roleplay to be longterm. to not rush the plot too much. personally, i love to describe my character(s)' emotions.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the plot.

i prefer to talk with the other person about the plot, so we can make sure that we will both like it. a list is welcomed if we are short on ideas.

my personal favorites are the fantasy aus, (as long as they are not the oh so generic ones), but a good old slice of life is also fine. i am also very open to new ideas.

the plots that i won't do are highschool plots, hybrid plots, little space, incest, pedophilia and noncon. they are either wrong, or i simply dislike them. also, i will not put through mentions of eating disorders or self harm. i do not need to explain why. sorry if i sound too harsh or mean.

i have a few plots in mind that, if you are interested, you can look through. keep in mind, that they are not a "must do". they are just here, in case we both are uninspired and/or indecisive and need something quickly.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the characters.

i exclusively do bts ships, i'm sorry.

i will lay it simple. i can take upon both roles. but every time i join roleplays, i am almost the entire time the dom, so i would prefer to be the sub, at least in the roleplay chats that i make (unless the chat says something else.) so, if i turn down your request to be sub, don't say i didn't mention it.

but if you do play the sub, please. i beg you. do not be that extra shy, innocent and weak character. it annoys me greatly.

for ships, my favorites are yoonseok, namgi, yoonjin and namjin. the ship that i will not do is yoonmin. i simply dislike it. we can do any other ships that i didn't mention.

now, i will put out the members that i play as, note that i prefer to play the hyung line. i will also put how i play them.

yoongi

●●●●●

not too noticable until the actual part - sub, bottom

seokjin

●●●●◐

depends on the ship

namjoon

●●●●○

depends on the ship, top

hoseok

●●●◐○

dom, top.

jimin

●●○○○

depends on the ship

jungkook

●◐○○○

depends on the ship

taehyung

●○○○○

depends on the ship

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

other.

✎please be at least 15.

✎no text talk (eg: ur, lol, smh and so on) unless the characters actually text each other.

✎i understand if you need to suddenly leave unannounced. you can be missing up to a few days, or a week, i don't mind. i would like for you to be the same. if you need to be gone for more, i'd like a small heads up.

✎put an emoji of your choice so i know that you read and agree. i will stop replying if you don't, since i will assume that you didn't read everything. i cannot stress it enough. 𝗣𝗨𝗧 𝗔𝗡 𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗝𝗜.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

plot list. more will be added later, as i find inspiration. some of them aren't written down due to either lack of time, or too much variation that can occur.

note: all plots are mine. if you wish to use them for other rps, please credit me (or in other words, don't claim them as yours). thank you ^^

i will add an emoji to the plots i am personally more interested in doing at the moment, but we don't need to do them.

1.

"we love each other, but we're trapped" echos - leave your lover

muse a and muse b were there for each other through anything, ever since they were kids. they had an indescribable bond. muse a dreamed that they will live together, happily ever after, but dreams don't always come true. muse b has found another, one that muse a ironically set him up with, not expecting the relationship to flourish this much. it seamed as if muse b's relationship was going to be stable, which made muse a's heart ache every time he glanced at their direction. to cope, muse a also started to date - of course, as muse b helped him, just the way muse a did once. muse a eventually found someone nice, sweet and kind. in other circumstances, he would have fallen in love. but his heart ached for someone else. as if it couldn't get more confusing for both of them, muse a and b often ended up in each other's arms, swearing to forget about it, for the sake of their lovers. and so, "one time only" was repeated again, and again, and again. by the end of the night, as they relaxed in each other's hold, the very same sentence was heavy onto muse a's tongue - "we should leave our lovers and be with one another", knowing muse b would never leave their lover. only time will tell if muse a will work his courage, or if muse b will accept it.

variations:

- muse a writes a song to play to muse b, and so, confessing.

- muse b eventually gets engaged, only making things more complicated.

- muse b's lover breaks up with them/cheats on them, making muse b shut down any possible romantic relationships for a while, including the ones he had with muse a.

* - i reccomend listening to the song before picking it, to grasp on the vibe of it better.

2.

"little red string" soulmate au.

each person is born with a soulmate, that you will be able to find ever since you are 5. but, due to the inconvenience that it is manifested with, controversies rose every time. the arguments were so intense, that the world collectively resorted to keep the topic in silence.

how is this little bond so troubled? simple. at 5, one, and only one of the two will be able to see a thin, red string, ever so delicately tied around their left pinky finger, leading up to their soulmate. it never gets tangled, it never gets broken, it never gets untied. no matter what you do to it. the only was in which the second person can see the string is by a kiss.

muse a was born in a fortunate, soulmate family. and, the luck seamed to be on their side, as their son ended up being the one having the string. his parents asked him on his birthday if he had a little red string now, which the child happily confirmed. muse a was excited to see his soulmate, but nothing could prepare hm to be face to face with muse b, the one who he hated the most in their entire kindergarten. and that hate was oh so mutual.

muse a and muse b continued to be in each other's almost daily life, hatred only growing as they reached their adulthood. muse b was a nonbeliever, skeptical of this whole string of faith. muse a, he didn't want to deal with muse b, but he knew that all of their future relationships won't be fully happy. could they overcome this hatred for the sake of a happy relationship?

3. 🎻

"glowing pearl" - pirate + mermaid au.

muse a has been growing up on a ship since he was 8, and running away with one of his elder friends, away from the poverty of their little seaside village life. and so, they embraced the pirate life. muse a was fortunate enough to learn how to read from his mother, and so he helped with the navigation, map reading and negotiations - where violence was not applied.

for the past few months, the rumour of a special kind of oyster, producing natural blue akoya pearls was circling around the market, and the many other ships. they were extremely expensive on land, so the pirates knew they should get their hands on as many as they could, to sell the or to keep them to themselves.

muse b was the son of sea lord. sort of a royal of the merpeople. he was advised by his family to stay away from the surface, as the humans were dangerous - in most of the cases they captured merpeople out if curiosity, or out of desire to steal their different accessories that they decorated their hair, neck, ears, wrists, body with. but muse b didn't care, curiosity won over him, as he swam up.

muse a was looking down at the water when he spotted a person staring right up at him. what truly caught his attention was the much desired pearls, in form of a necklace. but it was such a shame. the mareperson stared up at him with such big, curious eyes. it was truly a shame. such a beautiful face didn't deserve this kind of treatment. will he keep silent, or tell his comrades, which will result in the capture of muse b?

4.

"petal juice" hanahaki au + bts

tw :: mentions of soft gore//death.

'hanahaki, a condition in which an individual coughs flower petals. the flowers range in colors and kind, from simple red rose petals to purple hyacinths. the flowers are growing inside the lungs, on 4 distinct stages. stage one isn't noticable. the plants start to grow inside the lungs, that's when the person starts to cough more and more often. stage two, the person begins to cough small petals. the said person runs out of breath quicker. stage two is one of the lengthiest stages, along with stage three. stage three consists of coughing larger petals, and eventually small blooms, along with blood. the coughing gets more and more violent, and also more often. those episodes are also longer. it is harder to perform any physical task. one of the lengthiest stages, along with stage two. stage four, the terminal stage, is when the person starts coughing out full flowers, and where the suffocation episodes begin. eventually, it culminates with death, as the petals bloom outside of the person's mouth and nostrils, choking them to death. the cause of this disease is one sided love. the time between the stages may vary from person to person. depending on how often and for how long they are in contact with the person they love. the disease can be surgically removed, but with the flowers, all the positive feelings regarding the once loved person is gone too, leaving hatred behind. the natural cure is if the love is returned. if, by any chance, the love is fake and the sick person finds out before they cough two full flowers (usually a year after love is returned, to signify the curing) the disease will relapse, causing in their death in less than a day.' muse a shut his laptop as soon as he finished reading, looking down at the tiny petal in his hand.

fast forward a few years, at the beginning of stage three, muse a cursed himself for ever loving his band mate, muse b. he knew that confessing wasn't an option, being a rising kpop group, only to be openly gay and in love with your team mate in a country as homophobic as korea wasn't an option. but.... all that he could do was wait, wait for something, anything to come. and also keep his illness a secret from the other 6 team mates, including muse b.

5. 🎻

local forest warlock au.

where one or both muses can be witches, specialized on different areas (eg. potions, spells, etc). or one can be a simple villager, or a prince from a nearby kingdom.

6.

in which muse a is tied in commercializing a recreational drug, and simply doesn't want to put his love interest muse b, a piercer/tattoo artist/florist/singer at a local club in danger.

7.

catfish au, but a really soft one. in which muse a is a very, well known singer/rapper/dancer and makes a fan account of himself. only to start getting a little too attached to this fanboy.

bonus!! muse b is also an artist. muse a makes a fan account for muse b, and vice versa.

8.

"when we all fall asleep, where do we go?"

muse a has these strange, reoccurring dreams. they simply feel so real. too real. there is nothing too much out of the ordinary, well, if the normal world had a pink sky and blue ground that is. but, the city was the same. the food was the same. people were, if they were there, the same. the city was empty, with only a few people roaming around. this is where muse a met muse b. "are you dreaming too?" "i suppose."

months passed, in the same dream, muse b and muse a continued to meet. "so can we see each other when we are awake?" "are you sure that you're real?" "i am, are you?" "touche..."

but, after a few more weeks, muse b stopped appearing in muse a's dream. he searched for him in the whole city, yet no sign of him, anywhere. muse a hoped that he could meet muse b again, somewhere. but the city when awake was big, too big for him to search his missed friend. will the search become easier? is muse b still thinking about him?

9. 🎻

"tough love baby"

enemies. whether it be rival bakeries, artists, workers at an office job, kingdoms, mafias, all have one thing in common: the same tension, hateful remarks only to mask away the.... other kind of tension between them. an unlikely pair, yet fun and spicy.

[8bitbrandt]

I don't know why I'm throwing this out to the ether but I need to just.... get it out of my mind and see it in front of me to try to come to terms with it. I don't want to put this on my Facebook and have people think I'm throwing a pity party or trying to bitch about my situation so here I am: posting on my Tumblr out to a sea of people that I don't personally know 99% of. I just need to vent. 7 weeks ago at 1145pm I had the STUPIDEST accident. I went to pick up a glass cup in the kitchen and when my hand touched it, the whole thing just shattered. I didn't grip it hard or slam my hand down on it. I just picked up a glass. I guess it was old or already had a crack in it or something but whatever it was, it shattered in my hand and sliced 99% of the tendons in my middle finger. I'll explain how it was 99% and not 100% later. What really stood out to me was how much it didn't hurt and how much blood there was. I felt like I FILLED the sink as I stared at my hand in disbelief from how much blood there was compared to what basically equated to a pinprick amount of pain. I tried to move it .... and I couldn't. That was a weird and frightening experience; to tell your body to do something and it just...won't. It can't. No matter how badly I wanted to move my finger, I couldn't. I wrapped my finger in paper towels to try and stop the bleeding while yelling for my wife that we need to go to the ER. She takes me and after getting my finger cleaned up and stitches to close up the gash, the doctor tells me he's positive I completely severed at least 1 of the 2 tendons in my finger and more than likely partially severed the second. Next day I call in to work for the foreseeable future until I can have a hand specialist look me over. I go to see one later that day and it was a day I'll never forget. As the doctor is looking at my hand and the xrays from the ER, he asks me what I do for a living. I tell him I work with my hands installing security and camera equipment. Not a glamorous job but I'm good at it and it more than pays our bills. He asks if I play any instruments. I tell him yes, I've been playing bass guitar since I was in 7th grade and stand-up bass since high school. He asks if my right hand is my dominant hand. I tell him yes. The doctor takes a deep breath... looks me in the eyes (I can see he does NOT want to tell me what he's about to tell me) and he says, "You're going to need surgery. Left alone, you'll never have any movement or feeling in the upper half of your finger and you will never have the same control or movement because 1 full tendon plus most of the other have been completely severed. We can reattach them but it's a minimum 8 weeks of not using your right hand at all. You wont be able to work because your line of work is a huge risk of you resnapping the tendons and your hand will be in even worse shape then it is now.... what do you want to do?" What did I want to do? I wanted my hand back! But, I have no insurance AND my wife had been let go from her job the day after we got back from vacation which was a week before my accident. My income was the only thing keeping us afloat while we waited for unemployment and/or my wife to find a new job. Now, I need surgery and wont be able to work for a minimum of 8 weeks. On top of that, after surgery I would have to some very intensive physical therapy for a minimum of 3 months or else my finger would stiffen up from the scar tissue and I would lose all mobility even though I had the surgery to reattach the tendons. Even with surgery and physical therapy it wasn't a guarantee I would have 100% use of my hand again. Surgery just bettered my odds. I set up surgery for 2 days later that week. I then walked out to my car and cried. I'm 28 years old. I haven't cried in over a decade. Sure I've gotten teary eyed during a movie and the sniffles after a bad fight with my wife that I felt bad over.... but I haven't CRIED in 10 years. I couldn't see through all the tears, I couldn't catch my breath because of my sobbing. It all hit me at once what the doctor told me: I may never be able to do anything the same again. I'm right-handed, and that was the hand I injured. I might not be able to play my bass guitar with my fingers like I was trained. Even trying to use a pick will be a challenge because i might not be able to bend my middle finger enough to get it out of the way to strum the strings. I might not be able to ever hold my bow for my stand up bass correctly anymore. I love to cook and i might not have same dexterity or even ability to hold a knife or utensil correctly in my dominant hand anymore. I cried because of that and then for how selfish I felt FOR crying. People out there have WAY worse situations than me and make it work and here I am losing my shit in a hospital parking lot over a cut on my finger. But most of all I cried because of how worthless I felt. My income was what was keeping us on par with our bills and debt. Now I can't work and neither of us have insurance because we make too much money to get state or federal assistance BUT we don't make enough money to pay 500-700 a month out of our own pocket and still be able to pay our mortgage and put food on the table. So now I'm not working and need surgery which we will have to pay out of pocket plus physical therapy which the doctor estimated would be 100ish per session and I need to go AT LEAST once a week to see improvements in my hand.... So I'm out of work for at least 8 weeks and will be wracking up a 400+ physical therapy bill every month on top of whatever unholy number I'll have to pay to cover my surgery..... just so I can MAYBE have full usage of my dominant hand again. I never cried so hard and felt so worthless in my life. I feel like I'm letting my wife down and pulling us further into debt that I can't see us getting out of all because I picked up a fucking glass cup.... My wife and I are trying to make things work financially. She found a new job and is waiting on a background to clear for a better one and I've been doing things like Postmates and focusing on my real estate career more. I actually sold my first house all on my own and closed it 2 weeks after my surgery. That victory was short lived when I realized that the money from the house that was supposed to get us ahead of the curve and give us some financial breathing room turned into putting us not AS behind on our bills because I'm not working my security job while doing real estate. And physical therapy? My therapist says I'm making great progress but it doesn't feel like it and it's really hard to see myself ever playing my basses again or having anything remotely similar to the use and dexterity I had before. The last picture on this post is of my hand today (Aug 3, 2018) while I'm trying to make a fist.... that's the best I can do... I can't play my bass guitar with my fingers or a pick; my middle finger is in the way and doesn't have the strength to do anything. I can't properly hold my bow any more. I have to have my wife cut up things like onions for me when I cook because I can't use my right hand well enough any more and I'm afraid I'm going to further injure myself trying to cut things with my left hand and end up cutting another tendon in my right.... In the grand scheme of things and compared to other people, I get my injury isn't that big of a deal. But I feel so useless that I can't pull the weight I used to and the fact that I'm making our financial situation worse instead of improving it. I don't know what to do or how I can make things better. Writing this post isn't going to do much I know... but it felt good to get all my thoughts out and just put them somewhere else rather than just in my head. Here's hoping that things get better