#Food Flavor Solutions

[martblogs]

Food Flavor Solutions Market Capacity and Application Forecast 2022-2028

This report provides a comprehensive analysis of current Global Food Flavor Solutions Market based on segmented types and downstream applications. Major product development trends are discussed  under major downstream segment scenario.

This report also focuses on major driving factors and inhibitors that affect the market and competitive landscape. Global and regional leading players in the Food Flavor Solutions industry are profiled in a detailed way, with sales data and market share info. This report also includes global and regional market size and forecast, drill-down to top 20 economies.

According to this survey, the global Food Flavor Solutions market is estimated to have reached $ xx million in 2020, and projected to grow at a CAGR of xx% to $ xx million by 2028.

 Request Sample Report @ https://martresearch.com/contact/request-sample/6/16311

 Covid-19 pandemic has impacted the supply and demand status for many industries along the supply chain. Global Food Flavor Solutions Market Status and Forecast 2022-2028 report makes a brilliant attempt to unveil key opportunities available in the global Food Flavor Solutions market under the covid-19 impact to help readers in achieving a better market position. No matter the client is industry insider, potential entrant or investor, the report will provide useful data and information.

 The Global Food Flavor Solutions Market has been exhibited in detail in the following chapters

Chapter 1 displays the basic product introduction and market overview.

Chapter 2 provides the competition landscape of global Food Flavor Solutions industry.

Chapter 3 provides the market analysis by type and by region

Chapter 4 provides the market analysis by application and by region

Chapter 5-10 presents regional and country market size and forecast, under the context of market drivers and inhibitors analysis.

Chapter 11 analyses the supply chain, including process chart introduction, upstream key raw material and cost analysis, distributor and downstream buyer analysis.

Chapter 12 provides the market forecast by type and by application

Chapter 13 provides the market forecast by region

Chapter 14 profiles global leading players with their revenue, market share, profit margin, major product portfolio and SWOT analysis.

Chapter 15 conclusions

 Segmented by Type

l Salty Food

l Sweet Food

 Segmented by Application

Food

Beverage

Nutraceutical Industries

 Enquiry And Buying @ https://martresearch.com/contact/enquiry/6/16311

 Segmented by Country

   North America

       United States

       Canada

       Mexico

   Europe

       Germany

       France

       UK

       Italy

       Russia

       Spain

   Asia Pacific

       China

       Japan

       Korea

       Southeast Asia

       India

       Australasia

   Central & South America

       Brazil

       Argentina

       Colombia

   Middle East & Africa

       Iran

       Israel

       Turkey

       South Africa

       Saudi Arabia

 Discount Report @ https://martresearch.com/contact/discount/6/16311

 Key manufacturers included in this survey

l Solina

l Sleaford Quality Foods

l QR Flavour Solutions

l McCormick

l Koninklijke Euroma

l Ingredion

l Flavor Solutions

l Firmenich

l Cosucra

 Contact Us:-

+1-857-300-1122

 enquiry@martresearch.com

 sales@martresearch.com

[secrettreestuffidk]

ok but idea: @card-of-the-day

https://card-of-the-day.tumblr.com/ random

click link three times for a tarot reading

[wonderjanga]

Cardboard.

Billy has a lot of free time on his hands. He doesn’t go to school, his job as the Whiz Kid doesn’t take more than a couple hours, and he has no parental supervision. So what does he do with his time? He gets crafty.

Billy: *making something with cardboard, sitting on the steps of the rundown apartment building he lives in*

Crackhead: *also sitting on the steps, yapping about whatever to Billy*

Billy: *listening to him as he works*

Ms. Bambi: *also also sitting on the steps, but next to Billy to make sure he doesn’t get kidnapped or something by the crackhead. Is also smoking*

Crackhead: *pauses mid story to look “What’re you making there, kiddo?” *eyes the cardboard*

Billy: “A Gucci bag.” *super focused on making the bag out of cardboard. Is using a rusty pocketknife to make details too*

*silence*

Crackhead: *bursts out laughing*

Billy: *looks up from his work* “Wha- What’re you laughing at?!???”

Ms. Bambi: *stifling laughs* “Bill, you’re not actually making a Gucci bag, are you?”

Billy: “So what if I am?! I’m gonna make it, I’m gonna sell it for 50 dollars, and then I’m gonna have food money for the week.”

Crackhead and Ms. Bambi: *shares a look before looking at Billy, holding back more laughter* “Kid…”

Billy: “What?! You don’t believe me? Trust me! I’ll come back with my money and then I’ll rub it in your faces!” *storms off with his cardboard*

Crackhead: “Sure, kid. Sure!”

Later…

Billy: *putting the finishing touches on his cardboard bag with some paints he found in a dumpster* “Alright… Done!” *lets it dry for a bit*

Even More Later…

Billy: *throws the bag in his pocket dimension when he thinks it’s done and heads outside and transforms into Marvel*

Marvel: *flies to New York and then detransforms in an alleyway*

Billy: *pulls the bag out of his pocket dimension and sits on the side of the road, advertising his bag to people who pass by*

Passerby: “What a cute bag! How much is it?”

Billy: *perks up* “50 dollars, ma’am.”

Passerby: “Fifty dollars… Hmm…” *fishes through her purse* “Darn it. I only have two twenties-”

Billy: “That’s fine!” *grabs the money from her and hands the bag to her* “Thanks a lot, ma’am!” *runs off*

Later, when he saw the crackhead again, he did a money spread on his arm. Though it was kinda pathetic because he only had two bills. It got his point across:

Crackhead: *completely bewildered* “You actually sold it?!??”

Also, Billy had no idea he was counterfeiting and therefore committing a crime.

Then, there was another time Billy got bored enough. It was during the summer when he was sweating his butt off in his little apartment. It was then the idea came to him. Sunglasses. Whenever the window was shining light right into his eyes? Sunglasses. Whenever the sun was too bright outside? Sunglasses. Looking classy? Sunglasses. They were the perfect solution in Billy’s bored, mind. So he got to work, making them, with cardboard of course. He used some tacks to keep the pieces together and he used some cut up, colored film he found in the back of a store for the lenses.

Safe to say Billy was proud of himself for making it. They looked good in his unprofessional opinion!

Unfortunately though, he couldn’t see through the film he used for the lenses. Major bummer but whatever. He just chose the wear the sunglasses on his head like a fashion accessory.

Billy: *just finished up with his broadcast and happens to pass by Mr. Morris*

Mr. Morris: “Billy, are those sunglasses on your head?”

Billy: “Yeah?”

Mr. Morris: “Wha… Where did you get them?”

Billy: “I made them.”

Mr. Morris: “They’re… Really, really nice.” *sounds like he’s struggling to say it, but is happy to see Billy being a kid*

Billy: *blinding smile* “Thanks!”

Then, there was another time Billy got bored. This was during the winter and he was freezing so badly he swore he was turning into a Billy flavored popsicle. So, he decided to make a shelter inside of his shelter. That’s right folks. He, with the help of Cap, made a cardboard house in his little apartment.

Billy: “Freddy you should definitely come over. I have the coolest thing at my place.”

Freddy: “What is it?”

Billy: “You’ll see.”

Freddy: “Cryptic. I like that.”

Later…

Billy: “Tada!” *does jazz hands as he gestures to the cardboard house*

Freddy: “Is that a house?”

Billy: “Yeah!”

Freddy: “Wha… Wha… It even has windows!” *points the windows* (The windows are made of the same film that was used for the sunglasses)

Billy: “Yeah!!”

Freddy: “This is awesome!”

Billy: “Yeah!!!”

They proceeded to mess around in the cardboard house for the rest of the day. They’re like 9 years old in this, guys. Let them be kiddos.

Then there’s the rainy seasons. Billy doesn’t have an umbrella so he might as well make one, or a couple. He has to remake it every time it gets wet. See, he found a metal cane he uses as the handle. He only really remakes the part that actually blocks rain.

Billy: *steps into Whiz Radio with his cardboard umbrella*

Coworker: “Is that your umbrella?” *sounds concerned*

Billy: “Yes…?”

Coworker: “Do you not have an actual umbrella?”

Billy: “This is my actual umbrella.”

Coworker: “Huh.” *slightly dumbfounded*

When Billy was done with his show, that coworker went up to him and gave him an actual umbrella. Like one of those clear ones.

Then, there was the cardboard statue of tawny. Billy made the tiger pose for hours.

Billy: “Tawny, I’ve told you already. You’ve gotta stay still!”

Tawky Tawny: “Yes, yes.” *rolls eyes*

When Billy was done, he looked so proud to present it to Tawny. The tiger keeps it in a safe place at all times. Well, until that fateful day, at least.

Billy: “You sat on it?!”

Tawky Tawny: “Yes, my apologies.” *hangs head in shame*

Billy: *stares* “Tawny, it’s fine. I’m honestly just happy you actually kept it.” *smile*

[papelespresso]

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[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I feel like advice on loneliness comes in only three flavors:

"It's all mindset, learn to embrace being alone and you'll never feel lonely!"

"Your head is lying to you, you have friends and they love you!"

"Here's a list of places you can go to hang out with people and make new friends!"

Those are usually well-meant and I'm sure there are situations where they do help someone feel better - but they're definitely not universally applicable.

The first one is even plain wrong: connection is a basic human need. You can't just "change your mindset" and turn that off, the same way you can't turn off your need for food or air or mental stimulation. Humans are group animals. We absolutely need social interactions to stay healthy and sane. It is true that some people do not need a large number of friends and are happiest with just one or two close friends, and it is also true that some people prefer to fulfill their social needs in other ways than what's traditionally defined as friendship - but that's not something you can (or should) try to train yourself to do, that's just natural differences and preferences!

The only thing you could "train" yourself to do would be to learn to ignore your social needs and bury them deep down under layers of denial... and you don't need me to explain to you why that's a very unhealthy idea. It's sad enough that so many people have to do that to not lose their minds in loneliness, we certainly don't need to celebrate an unhealthy coping skill as a "superior mindset".

The other two at least get a bit closer to the truth: the solution for your unmet need is not to kill the need, but to fulfill it... but that's easier said than done, isn't it?

After all, "Don't worry, your friends love you!" doesn't help if you have no friends. Loneliness is not always "all in your head": Maybe you moved to a new place and don't know anyone there. Or you cut off contact with all your friends after a big fight. Or you grew up neurodivergent (or got mentally ill at a young age) and had no chance to learn how to make friends at the age most kids do, and by now you have been friendless for so long you don't even know where to start.

Same with "just go to a bar and talk to some new people" or "Take a pottery class and you'll meet some interesting people there" - that's not factually wrong, but also not helpful if the reason you feel lonely is that you struggle to make friends (or even struggle to just talk to people). Which can also be part of neurodivergence or mental illness, or just be a part of your personality (shyness), or be a result of isolating circumstances (like having spent a lot of time in a closed environment, for example a long hospital stay, and now feeling unsure how to connect with people outside of that environment). 

And those are just a few of the many, many possible explanations why someone may be lonely that require a more individualized approach - which is why we can’t solve loneliness with any one-size-fits-all solution.

That may be a somewhat disappointing-sounding conclusion in a letter on loneliness, so let me also tell you: hope and support are always within reach, even if it might take some time and patience to find them. The key is to remember that your feelings are valid and that you're not alone in your struggle.

First, recognize that admitting that you feel lonely, and wanting to take action based on that feeling, is a sign of strength, not weakness. You’re pretty insightful for recognizing your loneliness and super brave for wanting to reach out!

Secondly, be kind to yourself and allow yourself to take small steps. Small, actually manageable steps are crucial in any healing journey! If it’s not an option to just go to the bar or that pottery class, then it’s okay to start somewhere else. Maybe a therapist, a support group, or even online communities can be valuable “training sessions” for social connections. Even reaching out to one single person can make a significant difference over time. Your journey to finding companionship and connection might be different from someone else’s, but that doesn't make it any less valid (or achievable!).

Lastly, do consider embracing new activities that you may enjoy - but not just for the sake of meeting others. It’s important to nurture your own happiness and well-being when you’re feeling lonely. Those can be activities you can try out alone and even at home, for now! Anything that enriches your life is good. Long down the road, maybe it will lead to opportunities to connect with others, but even if it doesn’t: it’s important to incorporate new experiences into your life.

While there isn't a universal solution to loneliness, I truly believe there is a path forward for everyone. It's all about finding what works for you.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[flawseer]

On Mudwing Culture

My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:

Mudwings are seriously into food.

I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.

But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.

The State of Food Preparation on the Continent

Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.

There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.

More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.

And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.

Why is that, and how did it happen?

Historical Benefits of Cooking

Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.

Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.

As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.

So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.

Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.

The Role of Food in Mudwing Society

If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.

Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.

Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.

And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.

Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.

If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.

Is there any evidence for this in the books?

To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.

I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.

I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.

[weaselle]

let's talk cutting boards and butcher's blocks

Wood, even a slab of wood that is no longer a part of a living tree, has anti-bacterial properties. Mostly because the dry wood fiber absorbs water leaving the bacteria high and dry, which kills it. So don't let your cutting board soak in water and become water-logged, just rinse it thoroughly and dry it with a towel.

here is a source article

here is an excerpt from that article

"Scientists at the University of Wisconsin have found that 99.9% of bacteria placed on a wooden chopping board begin to die completely within minutes. After being left at room temperature overnight, there were no remaining living bacteria on the wooden boards the next day. In comparison, cheaper plastic cutting boards had very little effect on dangerous microbes."

plastic, on the other hand, quickly becomes knife-scarred, creating little microscopic valleys that trap water and breed microbes

NOW. You may still want to wash your wooden cutting board or butcher's block with more than water after you, say, cut raw chicken on it. I get it. What you shouldn't do is use soap, because the way wood absorbs water, you're going to wind up with a soap flavored cutting board.

What you want to do is mix up a strong salt solution. 10% salt 90% water by weight is enough to kill most bacteria if you let it sit ten minutes, but honestly i usually make something approaching a salt paste and let it sit like two minutes. You only need like 5 tablespoons of mix (so like 4 of water and 2 of salt) to do most cutting boards. Scrub it over your cutting board with anything clean, i often straight up use my hand. The salt crystals act like sandpaper, helping you scrub. Get the whole surface wet, then let it sit 2-5 minutes. Now rinse and dry your board. This will scrub off any food material stuck to your board, help ensure all the bacteria die, and your board won't taste of soap - at worst it will get a little salty.

[wooahaes]

up in smoke

pairing: non-idol!vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. burnt food. vernon is trying his best.

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ive said this before but he is simply sooo <3

Vernon remembered when he went bungee-jumping with his friends years ago, before he ever met you. They had done rounds of rock, paper, scissors on the bus ride there, and he had ended up losing, which meant he had to go first. He remembered how it felt to get on the edge, the worker walking him through it while his stomach was twisting itself into knots. Bend his knees, hold his arms out as he falls, and enjoy the thrill. If he wanted to be poetic, he could say that falling in love felt a lot like that: a blind jump toward a joy he could see in you. Both had been worth it. He’d gained a sick video of him bungee jumping, courtesy of his friends, and the leap into love had given him a relationship he felt so entirely safe in.

Baking cupcakes should not be harder than bungee jumping. Why the fuck was this harder than bungee jumping?

He coughed as he opened up the oven for the second time today, smoking plumbing out of it and setting off the alarm. Shit. Fuck. This shouldn’t be this hard. He ripped the cupcake tray out of the oven, tossing it onto the smooth stovetop before cracking a window and then going for the alarm. With the apartment silent, he let out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter again. Vanilla cupcakes had no right being this hard to bake. Why was baking harder than normal cooking? He’d learned normal cooking! But every time he swore the batter tasted okay when he did a tiny taste test, something went wrong with the actual baking half of things. The picture on his laptop was taunting him now, all perfectly baked with perfectly placed buttercream on top of it… 

He let out a sigh, shutting his eyes. Okay. He could work with this. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe it was a good thing that you were stuck at work today. Originally, it was a good way for him to surprise you with cupcakes. He pulled at the loose bow tying his apron around him, throwing it onto the counter before heading straight to the bedroom to strip off his shirt and change into something that he didn’t accidentally get flour on. 

Fine. He couldn’t bake you cupcakes. That didn’t mean shit when he had a car and money and the ability to just go buy the damn things. Easy solution.

He picked out yours and his favorite flavors for the larger box… Only to check his phone and see where you had texted him three times in a row. Oh shit.

baby???

what did you burn????? 

omg wait are you okay??? did you burn yourself??? i tried calling seungkwan and he didn’t know where you were 😭

Shit. Not what he meant to happen on your birthday. He dropped a tip into the tip jar, thanking the worker as he took off back to his car. When did you get off early? Shit, he thought he’d know—but you never mentioned anything today. He fought the urge to drive a little over the speed limit to get home to you, just shooting off one quick text to say ‘omw’ as he hoped that would calm your fears. The moment he parked, he took off running as fast he could without damaging the cupcakes to get back into the building. It was a weird half-jog that would definitely earn him some strange looks, but it was far from the first time he’d done something foolish while thinking of you. The elevator swiftly brought him up to his floor, and he rushed to get back into the apartment. 

And there you were, dumping out the burnt cupcakes as you tried to deal with the still-lingering burnt smell in the apartment. When you looked up, relief flooded your eyes as you saw him.

“Oh my god, Vernon, I was terrified you’d burnt yourself—” You rushed over to him, only to stop short as he held up a pastel pink box of cupcakes. “... What did you—”

“I wanted to bake you those funfetti cupcakes you were talking about,” he said. “But, uh… You can probably figure out what happened.” 

You took the box from him, only to immediately set it aside in favor of kissing him. He’d stiffened up in surprise, but relaxed a moment later as his hands fell to your hips. When you drew away, you just gave him a shy smile.

“I was worried,” you said. “I thought you’d hurt yourself.” You brushed his hair back from his eyes, frowning at him a little. “But… You were gonna bake me cupcakes?”

“I tried,” he admitted. “But, uh… I think baking was a little ambitious.” He drew you closer, body pressing against yours. “The first time, the oven was too hot, aaand the second time I took ‘em out too early… and then put them back in for too long.”

With a pout, you squished his cheeks. “You’re so sweet. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 

He drew your hands away from his face, letting them drop onto his shoulders. “You literally made me a cake this year, babe. I wanted to do something nice.” He nodded toward the box you set aside. “I just got us a half dozen. Didn’t get to pick up candles since you came home early.”

With a giggle, you pressed a clumsy kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Guilty,” you said before drawing away from him. You picked up the box of cupcakes and started to make your way over to the dinner table. “I was only working a half day today. I tried to get the full day, but I kinda had a major meeting this morning, so…”

Vernon followed you into the apartment soon enough, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you in. “It’s all good,” he said. “You wanna go out, or—”

“God, no.” You turned around to face him. “I’m going out with friends this weekend instead. I just thought,” you draped your arms around his neck, “we could have a nice night in. Movies, dinner…” You looked at the box behind you. “And dessert.”

He nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss against it a moment later. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, squeezing you once. “Happy birthday, baby.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao@synthetickitsune@wonuziex@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[sexboobomb]

My current flavor of autism is where I can’t tell if the solution to my depressive mood is food, water, sleep, to raise/lower the temperature about 2°, an hour in a sensory deprivation tank, a brain-liquidating orgasm, a hug, or a lottery win.

It’s at least one of these things but fuck me I sure don’t know which one it is

[mushroomates]

gimli headcanons:

likes doing laundry. finds it soothing

history nerd!! loves reading old tombs/biographies of his ancestors

is incredibly intelligent. beats frodo in chess. would beat gandalf but gandalf cheats. has been in a stalemate with aragorn for two and a half years.

well mannered but chooses to forgo his politeness to make a point. especially around elves.

does NOT like horses. not just riding them, which is canon, but actually dislikes the animal itself. the reasons why include (but are not limited to) :

he does not like being not on ground. he does not have a fear of heights so much as a fear of… feet not on ground. as evidenced by refusal to jump, treehouses, and well, horses

he does not like their faces. they are long and have eyes on the side like prey. gimli thinks this is deceiving as horses are very large and can kick in someone’s skull. not his skull.

gimli believes that in a one on one match with a horse, he could easily win. he has thought of several, very specific, scenarios of this and has a detailed plan of attack should this situation occur.

they so easily turned against their home for an evil overlord (read: sauron stole all the black horses from rohan) and therefore cannot be trusted. as a rule, anything that willing you let you ride it cannot be trusted. they can’t be satisfied with this life. they are plotting something.

believes he would be great at drums. it’s just hitting things hard and he’s pretty strong.

ok, another thing about horses: they are fragile to a ridiculous extent. you breath wrong and it breaks. they have bad bones and bad blood flow in their legs, and their legs are all that they’re used for. he doesn’t understand why humans invested so much time into horses when they’re genetically bad at what they are meant to do. he’d feel bad for the horses if they weren’t so awful.

drinks coffee, not tea

takes great with the up keeping of his gear. he sharpens his axes, polishes his boots, shines his armor and waxes his mustache. that’s not gear, but he takes great pride in looking groomed and caring for his belongings.

has an axe for every occasion. battle axe? do you want throwing or slashing. a day on the town? have you seen this intricately carved masterpiece that also is a weapon? digging a hole? PICKAXE. cutting a cake? how about an axe???

hates the rain because it ruins his hair and beard. also loves the rain because it ruins legolas’s hair and clothes.

will eat anything. has a great tolerance for spice. contrary to popular belief, dwarves are not shy of seasoning but are very cautious around other races in fear of poisoning their friends

will also eat some rocks. salty is his favorite (halite, hanksite, glauberite) but also likes to add chunks of chalcanthite to his food for a slightly sweet yet metalic flavor. this is also slightly (SLIGHTLY) poisonous as evidenced by sharing his trail mix with boromir

also calls dirt the “local seasoning”

will taste dirt to try and get a feeling for the land. this tells him the acidity, weather, possible wildlife, and also pisses off legolas

actaully genuinely likes the taste of dirt. (note: if you desire to eat clay/dirt that is a symptom of iron deficiency. for gimli, he eats spoonfuls of the stuff like their supplements because as a kid it was fed to him like multivitamins)

OK SO HEAR ME OUT: lack of sunlight can cause really low hemoglobin and ferritin (a blood protein that contains iron) sooo being constantly in dark caves can cause some forms of iron deficiency. because dwarves are conscious of their young, dwarf children often grow up not often being in direct sunlight.

the solution? dirt. dirt contains iron and other tasty minerals that are good for the body. charcoal has natural antioxidants. so does clay. am i saying that momma gimli (unnamed) fed her son ash and clumps of dirt? yes. also bits of broken pottery. it’s good of the immune system.

fr tho clay/dirt/charcoal are the dwarven multivitamins. you have a tummy-ache? here, have a rock. i truly believe this was scientifically proven by dwarves and only FOR dwarves (plz do not eat dirt)

fuckin loves mushrooms. has a mushroom log at home. whenever dwarves find some fungai in a cave they go feral

likes dogs. thinks it’s great that they dig holes. thinks it’s fantastic that the bury things in holes. absolutes loves when they get muddy, and then shake off all water and dirt all over you.

when he came back home with the name lockbearer, a lot of the dwarves thought it was really cool and he has some sort of elven puzzle that requires a code to unlock something. imagine their surprise when he rocks up and is like: no, even better. HAIRS. three of them.

enjoys making mudpies- made them as a kid with his cousins, (mostly with rock slurry) and continues to, even even as an adult.

made them on the fellowship with the hobbits. taught them all about the best types of dirt and the water-to-soil- ratio needed.

while cutting up slices of his pie, he offered one to boromir, who in good nature, took it, clearly thinking it was just part of the bit.

poor boromir was locked in a stalemate after gimli cut his own slice, and began eating it.

to his credit, boromir did brave a few bites, but had to stop once he nearly had a mouthful of maggots

“protein”

gimli is like crazy good at hair. can braid quickly and efficiently in elaborate styles

picked up eleven hair style techniques in lorien (quicker than legolas) and was forced to relay them to the elf through twine as there is no way he’s letting grubby elf fingers to touch his glorious mane that’s been decades in the making

would ask for a drink “on the rocks” and get slightly upset if it did not come back with actual rocks

[vidavalor]

Hi! I loooove your blog. What's an underrated GO moment that you like?

Hi! Thank you. :) Nice to meet you. I have green tea and raspberry scones for snacks today as I just got back from the bakery. *sets up plates*

You know what little scene I love? I love the bit where Shax comes to the bookshop when Aziraphale is in Edinburgh and, in the middle of threatening Crowley, asks him how to fix the hot water boiler in the apartment. It's a little moment and funny in your first pass watching it but it plays even better on rewatch and once you think about it a little beyond just the initial laugh.

In the attack on the bookshop, we see that Shax is one of those demons that is like the angels in that she thinks of food as human and beneath her. She makes fun of Aziraphale for his human hungers-- for food, for Crowley (who isn't in the bookshop when she's saying this stuff.) So, she's not exactly teaching herself to become a gourmet chef in that apartment now that she's on Earth. She doesn't cook and she doesn't do dishes, really, but... she needs the hot water working badly enough that she's willing to swallow her pride and ask Crowley for help in fixing it, which means her human indulgences are hot showers and honestly? If I'd spent millennia in Hell and got to escape to Crowley's place in Mayfair, you couldn't drag me for a hundred years from whatever tropical rainforest paradise shower Crowley had in that place lol so I can't really blame her. Not to mention that there's not exactly a lot of privacy in Hell, if ya feel me? A lady demon who has finally escaped topside of the fiery pits of Hell might be reluctant to admit it but she might have found one or two things about having a human corporation are not completely horrible... maybe so not completely horrible enough that she's desperate enough to go to the being who has not taught her what Google is for his own amusement for assistance with getting that hot water boiler operational again as soon as is demonically possible lol. (Crowley's canonically excellent taste in showerheads is absolutely the most top of mind meta you're going to find today, I know lol.)

Anyway, this means that Shax interrupted Crowley's afternoon of Operation Lovebirds: Shop Lesbian Vavoom to ask him to make it rain for her in the apartment.

He really hasn't done this much weather in ages.

It's also funny to me that the hot water boiler has rebelled against Shax by giving her two yellow lights (Crowley's eyes) and the solution for it, according to black-clad, silver necklace Crowley, is to turn a black tab on a silver loop. Whether Crowley's apartment is just in revolt against Shax or whether we're poking fun at the fact that Shax appears to have a little thing for Crowley or both, it's amusing.

Not to mention that Crowley's little lesson in locating the "hot water boiler tab" involves finger movements the likes of which have never been used to fix a hot water boiler in all our days lol. Crowley's a free-thinking Cupid. You gotta vavoom with your own damn self sometimes-- he gets it, girl. He's all the flavors of Baskin Robbins, Shax, and he's been on Earth for ages. He knows what he's doing. Take notes lol. If you find the black tab on the silver loop, it'll turn the hot water back on and then if you follow his non-verbal instructions here...

Besides the humor, though, this little moment is also happening in the segment of the story in which Crowley and Gabriel have been puzzling out the origins of gravity together. The heaviness of watching Crowley unable to remember building the universe is balanced a bit here, when they remind us through this scene in which he appears to be explaining something he built to fix his problematic hot water boiler that his curiosity and his need to take things apart to see how they work are not things that can be taken from him and that he rebuilds by literally rebuilding things.

(Aziraphale, we all know you've been breaking things around the bookshop for the last two hundred years and then calling Crowley and telling him that you couldn't possibly use another frivolous miracle to fix it or Gabriel will send you another strongly-worded note and would he please come over... and yes, it is a pipe under the sink again, how did he know? lol)

[iwantwhaticanthave]

random things i wrote down that helped me & might help u

might add to it later :)

also if there are any spelling mistakes ignooreeee

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

tips

- calorie tracker (make a notebook with calories before eating a meal)

- drinks with caffeine will help suppress hunger (e.g : black coffee,energy drinks,cola zero)

- after eating work out for at least 15 min

- after waking up eat after 3 hours then work out, then dont eat anything for 6 hours and then work out again (but dont forget water!!)

when u feel hungry

- all u need is water!

- go on tumbler/pinterest

- watch tv

- play games

- make a song playlist

- read a book

- walk

- color/draw

- look at your self in the mirror

- eat gum

- watch disgusting mukbangs

- clean ur room

- drink water

motivation!!!

- eating junk all day because u ate chocolate is like stomping on your phone because u dropped it

- every time u say fuck it idc theres 100% chance u will care later

- junk food u craved for an hour or a body u craved ur entire life?

- stop rewarding ur self with food ur not a dog

- u are not hungry u are bored

- eating is always a decision nobody forces your hand to pick up the food and eat it

- what u eat in private u wear in public

- you are what u eat

- dont undo the hard work all week on a weekend

- drinkwaterdrinkwaterdrinkwater

- fat lasts longer than flavor

- so u dont dread getting weighed at the doctors office

- if you eat the way you’ve always eaten, you’ll weigh what you’ve always weighed

-if you can pinch it you can lose it

-imagine the numbers on the scale going up after each bite

my fave youtubers that motivate/watch while eating

-supersize vs superskinny

-dance moms

-cindy diaries

-luneats

-whimsicalgirlyy

-peachyair

-amberlynnreid

find the right solution

sweet -> cucumbers, tomato, black coffee

savoury -> banana, water, watermelon

oily -> apple vinegar, green tea

thats it!!💝🐈‍⬛

don’t push yourself too hard there are some days where you feel like you’ve ruined it all but there’s always the next day!! ily 💋💋

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 5/?

Wordcount: 2,263/ 12,551

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

“For goodness sake..” 

Fiddleford pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped his head as he leaned over his coffee mug. 

The borrower tugged their fishhook from Ford's pointer and thumb, looking over his hand now that it was close enough.

Small scars rippled across his knuckles, his fingertips brandished small blisters. They were small enough to be ignored by the human, but they more than likely hurt when he got them. 

Now that he was no longer handing you your hook and thread he folded his hands back on the table. His fingers covered the top of his palms. 

Speaking of fingers, you had yet to ask him about his extra one. You were going to speak before being startled from your thoughts as you heard a motion behind you. 

Turning around you saw Fiddleford grabbing your thimble tenderly with a slow and calculated grip. You still had to physically restrain yourself from flinching regardless of the care she showed. 

Fiddlefords expression was still taut. His eyebrows pinched together in a concerned look as he dipped the small thimble into his coffee. 

“Like I was tryin’ to say, you're under no obligation to stay near us if ya don’t want to. We ain’t holdin’ you hostage here… Ford.” 

You could have sworn he was gritting his teeth as he said the other researcher's name. Ford quickly held his hands up in surrender, making you flinch as Fiddleford set down your thimble again. 

“I’m not holding them hostage! I was just giving them a solution that benefitted us both!..” 

You walked to the thimble again and picked it up as you walked back to your spot on the table, sitting down you looked into the thimble. Fiddleford’s coffee wasn’t as dark as Fords' was, it was a light brown instead of that dark black you had just drunk moments earlier. 

“It don't benefit them none to be trapped here!-.. You just want more notes!” 

While the two bickered you took a sip of the coffee Fiddleford gave you. 

It was much sweeter than Fords that's for sure. A slight nutty flavor showed itself in the coffee, you didn't know it could have two flavors in one. 

You enjoyed it more than Fords’ coffee, you took another large sip before tuning back into the conversation happening just above you. 

“They don't have to worry about scavenging for food anymore! I’d say that it's an improvement from hiding in the walls!..” 

You sighed and decided to just let them ride the conversation out. 

For once they weren’t staring at you so you’d take it as a win. 

Lifting the thimble to your mouth again your wrist flared up in pain as you turned it wrong. You honestly almost forgot you were still hurt from earlier in the night in all the commotion. 

Unfortunately for you, your wrist decided now would be a marvelous time to give out. 

The thimble fell out of your grip as it seized for a moment, drawing the attention back on you. You tried to catch it with your other uninjured hand, only serving to spill it as it fell on the table lying on its side. 

Now sporting coffee on your pants and a little on your shirt you stood quickly to not get any more on you. 

“Sorry!-.. I didn't mean to drop it-” 

You tried to ignore the pain in your wrist and in your flurry of embarrassment, you could feel your ankle also now screaming its protests again as you put most of your weight on it. 

Fiddleford seemed the most concerned out of the two. His hand instinctually reached towards you as you staggered a bit to regain your footing with your injured ankle. 

“Yer alright! Are ya hurt anywhere? Your hands shakin’ an ya don't look too steady there-” 

Ford didn't reach for you but he did hold his hand up to stop Fiddleford from reaching any closer. Noticing how you leaned away from his approaching hand. 

“...When I put you in the jar did you land on anything weird?” 

You didn't have the energy to lie to him. He was as wise as ever as he watched you struggle to stay standing. 

You refused to sit down though. Your shirt and pants were still covered in coffee as you tried to wring some of it from your shirt. 

“I landed on my ankle and wrist but they were already hurt.” 

You didn’t mean to sound so agitated, but the pain was slowly growing more present the longer you stood. 

Fiddleford took the initiative and stood from the table, grabbing a paper towel before holding it out to you. 

“How’d ya injure them?” 

You hesitantly took the paper towel from Fiddleford and tried to wipe off most of the coffee. Deciding it was useless you set it on the table, opting to help clean it off the countertop you spilled it on. 

You shrugged. 

“Getting supplies,” 

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You had been out gathering when Ford first saw you, making you fall off your thread. 

Of course, it also didn't help being repeatedly grabbed by the researcher, only furthering the pain in your ankle after you ran into him properly. 

Ford took notice of the way your eyes occasionally flickered toward him. Taking the hint that he had something to do with how injured you were. 

He didn’t like the feeling of guilt swirling in his gut. 

He was a researcher. He wasn’t meant to feel bad for gathering data in the name of science. So why was it that every time you recoiled he remembered just how hard you fought against his hands mere hours ago? The way you still even now flinched back from his hand like he was going to grab you. 

He didn’t like feeling guilty. Not one bit. Especially when he was discovering such an innovative species. 

He stood from the table and didn't miss the way you staggered back a bit and closer to Fiddleford. Walking to one of his shelves he grabbed a small first aid kit. 

You watched as the six-fingered researcher set down the tin container, exuding more care than he had shown to be capable of. 

You could feel Fiddlefords anxious eyes still on you as your leg still struggled to hold your weight. To help he moved his hand to you again, his pointer just barely grazing your back. 

The second his pointer touched your back you pulled your needle from your hip. Stabbing his finger. His yelp went unheard as adrenaline pumped back into your brain. 

Cornered. You were cornered. 

Unsafe. Nothing about this situation was safe. 

Fiddleford stuck his pointer finger in his mouth briefly to stifle the pain. Seeing the anxiety he had spent so long to help go away returned in an instant. 

He didn’t reach his hand to you again, his other hand held up in surrender. 

“Yer alright!.. Didn’ mean to startle you, sit down yer shakin’ like a leaf..” 

Lies. He was lying. Instinct flooded your mind and fueled your legs as you took a step away from Fiddleford. 

Realizing you were now closer to Ford you whipped your head around to look at him. His eyes were wide with both fascination and concern. 

He had no reason to be concerned unless he was worried you were going to take off. You kept your eyes glued to his hands. Still placed on top of the first aid kit he was about to open. 

“Calm down, please. We’re not going to grab you. We want to help,” 

Oh, now you were for sure convinced he was lying. Both of them were.

They just wanted to put you back in the jar. To study you. 

Your breathing grew quicker as you glanced at the horrid glass prison just to the right of you. 

Ford was quick to meet your gaze. His eyebrows furrowed before reaching for it. 

You were going to take off into the wall before seeing him pick it up and set it on the ground. 

Moving it out of your sight before he kicked it away. The glass makes a hollow clink before rolling deeper into the kitchen. 

“...I want to help.” 

His hands unclasped the first aid kit as he rifled around inside. The lid blocked your view of what he was doing.��

Fiddleford pushed something closer to you and as you turned your head you saw what it was. 

A small glass was turned on its rim. Leaving only the bottom of the glass resting up. 

It reminded you of the makeshift table and chair in your room. Just larger and glass. 

“We won't touch ya, but please sit.” 

The way your body shook made you nauseous. You didn't like being thrown in a whirlwind of emotions. 

Instinct told you to run. To hide in the safety of the walls. 

…But Fiddleford looked so concerned. 

Ford pulled out two bandaids and a small toothpick from the first aid kit. Motioning with his eyes for you to sit on the glass. 

You kept telling yourself you weren’t doing it because he wanted you to, but in truth, you wanted his help. 

You were mentally and physically exhausted. Tired of fighting all your life. 

So for the first time in a long time, you listened and sat on the makeshift chair. 

Both of the humans seemed to relax now that you were sitting. Your shaking legs and aching ankle thank you as well. 

You sheathed your needle and glanced curiously to see fiddlefords stabbed finger. 

A small dot of blood showed on his finger, but he didn't look mad. 

He still had that sickening sweet look on his face as he saw you relax briefly. 

Drawing your attention back to the present you heard Ford unwrapping the two bandaids. 

“Can you roll up your pant leg, please? I can splint your ankle, your wrist you’ll have to wrap,” 

You physically tensed up again at the mention of him wrapping your ankle. Before you could speak fiddleford was quick to console you. 

“We’re not gonna grab ya sweet pea, just gotta properly set your ankle..” 

His hand twitched up from its resting spot on the table before settling again. If you weren’t so adverse to touch no doubt he would be trying to rub your back. 

Unsure if you wanted to place your trust in them yet, you hesitated. 

Ford watched you curiously as you internally debated with yourself. Before ultimately deciding to roll up your pant leg. 

Small scars littered your skin underneath, if Ford noticed he didn't say anything. Most were from rough tumbles in the forest, and one or two were from predators you had to escape. 

You thought the bruises on your ribs would be just another scar and you could move on from your human encounter. 

…You never expected this to be the result. 

Fords eyes relaxed a bit as he carefully reached for your leg. His pointer guided your knee up as he first assessed the damage. 

“Hm. Nothing looks broken.. You were lucky,” 

He let go and you tried not to think about the warmth that radiated from his pointer finger. Once uncomfortable and suffocating, now provided you with a strange comfort. 

You pushed that thought from your mind as he snapped the toothpick and moved for your ankle again. 

           The snap makes you tense before feeling his thumb and pointer holding your leg still. 

His thumb gently mimicked a motion you could only describe as a pet to calm you down. You wished it didn’t in all honesty, but who were you to deny yourself a bit of comfort. 

          He gently wrapped your ankle in a thick gauze before positioning the toothpick. 

          “How does that feel? Think you could walk with it?” 

He held the makeshift splint there while you looked at his work so far. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, but it would make borrowing a bit harder. 

          “…It feels fine..” 

He gave an approving nod before solidifying the splint with another bandaid. Being careful to not pull it too tight. 

          “you feelin’ any better?” 

Fiddleford tilted his head a bit, trying to gauge your reaction as you looked at the splint. 

          “,.Why are you helping me?” 

Both humans looked a bit confused. Ford busying his hands with unwrapping another bandaid for your wrist. 

           “Whaddya mean?” 

                  Fiddlefords eyebrows pinched together in concern and worry. Pushing up his glasses a bit in a nervous fidget. 

           You were growing more frustrated with the humans dancing around the subject. 

               “You’re researchers!… I’m a.. An unknown anamoly!… This- i shouldn’t even-,”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, ignoring the throbbing pain that shot through your wrist.  

           “In the deal you only agreed to feed me and house me. You didn’t say anything about patching me up. Why? Why help me if you can’t get anything out of it? because if this is some way to get me to be indebted to you it’s not going-..” 

     Ford had an achingly painful look on his face. Almost one of familiarity. 

          “We’re helping because we care. I do apologize for my previous impression, I was cruel.” 

Ford finished unwrapping the bandaid and held it out to you. You could feel your body tensing up again. 

          “…You dont.. Have to stay if you don’t wish to. I can always leave bandaids out for you later.” 

You didn’t say anything as you reached for the bandaid, and ford didn’t say anything as you let one of your hands briefly touch his fingers. 

TAGLIST: @i-am-tiredd / @kmsthisyr / @sodavrr / @boba-is-a-soup /

ALSO! Someone did actually end up finding one of the discord servers im in! Made me smile,,.!! As always please take care of yourselves! If you do want to be invited to the server do let me know! I talk frequently and the people are very kind and funny there!

[starsvein]

"Excuse me, where are the 'fruits?' ...Over here? Thank you."

Having gotten directions from the brown-haired civilian also browsing the shop, Veoc walked confidently to a display of colorful produce and picked up a bright yellow lemon from the pile. It was light—surprisingly so, and he wondered how the humans here ever imbibed enough food to keep themselves alive. But in the absence of infusions or nutrient solution, his best bet was to adapt.

He chooses a couple and goes to "check-out," coincidentally running into the same man at the registers. Nodding at him, Veoc finishes paying, takes out the lemon from his bag, and takes an experimental bite.

Crunch.

Bits of styrofoam cling to his chin, but the major general seems unbothered. If anything, he only looks a little disappointed at the lack of flavor as he heads for the exit while still chewing thoughtfully.

Nobody told him that this was an art supplies store, not a grocery...

@kleinstar

[dee-dunmeshi]

Careful

pairing: laios x kabru words: ~1k warnings: this is post canon! otherwise, none :)

summary: when kabru finds that his walls have been dismantled brick by brick, he does the only thing he can do- freak out, then put them back up and stop thinking about it. he doesn't mean to hurt laios in the process. (based on this post i made)

more: this is definitely gonna be multiple parts. also, tell me if u can tell i haven't finished dunmeshi and i've just immersed myself in spoilers

Laios sat almost motionless at the head of the meeting hall table, chin in his hand, head tilting to one side. To his right sat an abandoned chair previously occupied by Kabru, who was now pacing behind the blonde's throne (it was a somewhat smaller one used only in the meeting room. Laios liked it way better than the huge one in the actual throne room).

He couldn’t see Kabru, but he could imagine the others' expression- slightly furrowed brows and his cheek between his teeth as he let the concerns he’d had from the meeting earlier finally show, free from the unwanted gazes of guests. It’d been months before Kabru had let him see the actively calculating side of him- Laios thought it was… something. He wasn’t sure, but it did make the corners of his mouth turn up, just a little.

The king glanced out the window, shocked to see it was just past sunset. There were only stray strokes of orange on the clouds now, the moon well up into the sky. The kingdom demanded so much of him, and he was finding it harder and harder to keep track of time these days- such was the life of a king, he supposed.

“Kabru,” he started, reaching his arms over his head in a long overdue stretch. “We should call it a night, right?”

Kabru’s pacing stopped and he appeared by Laios’ side, one arm resting atop the throne as he leaned down slightly. “Tired?” He asked, his tone suggesting that he already agreed and didn’t really need to hear Laios’ reasoning.

“Yes,” Laios hummed, “and hungry.” He looked up at Kabru, a big smile on his face, brown eyes lighting up at the thought of dinner. “You won’t believe what we’re having- not monster, unfortunately.”

Kabru took Laios’ tease with a scoff and an eyeroll, the sting of which was greatly diminished by the grin on his face. He listened as Laios went on about dinner, what the chef was making, how Senshi had actually taught them this on his last visit to the kingdom. Laios wasn’t quite as enamored by food and cooking in general as Senshi, but since the dungeon, he’d taken more of an interest in what normal foods might taste most like dungeon food.

Kabru watched until the rant seemed to no longer be for him, Laios staring past him in thought as he went on about flavor profiles. Kabru let his mind drift back to things he needed to get done, half listening in case he was asked anything. There were orders to be made before bed, holidays to plan for, letters to answer- his eyes raked over Laios’ face as he thought, noting the slight exhaustion on display under his eyes and deciding to let him sleep in the next day, before landing on his jaw. 

Laios had grown a bit of stubble, he noticed, too distracted by being king to shave. It made sense that it had crept up on him- the blonde didn’t grow facial hair very fast, so he never really shaved anyway.

Kabru lifted his palm to Laios’ jaw, thumb rubbing along the coarse hair on his cheek. “You haven’t shaved,” he said, like he was commenting on the weather or pointing out a new hairstyle. Not like he was gently caressing his king's cheek.

Oh.

Before Kabru could decide the only solution was to blow up both himself and Laios, before he could even jerk his hand away, Laios was completely resting his head on Kabru's hand. One eye closed in thought as his cheek squished, he looked up at Kabru with those bright, wide brown eyes. “Y’think?” Laios asked, as if his royal advisor did this all the time. As if Kabru ever touched his face at all, let alone so tenderly. “You don’t like it?”

Kabru thought about how nice it’d be to die on the spot. He couldn’t really figure out what he should say next. Letting go might be awkward, but staying in this position would surely have weird implications, right? How would he get himself out of this? How did he even let himself get here?

“No,” he heard himself saying, lips moving seemingly on their own accord. “I think it looks good, honestly.”

And he really was being honest. Sure, telling Laios it looked bad would’ve been a fruitless lie- shaving wouldn’t make him a better ruler, and having facial hair might actually help his public image and make him look a little more mature. Kabru took issue, though, with how easily the truth had come out with no thought, no calculation. What was wrong with him?

Laios grinned at him so, so earnestly, and Kabru felt his stomach drop.

All too soon, the king rose from his throne, leaving Kabru's hand to fall to his side, abandoned.

“Alright, I won’t shave it, then,” Laios said definitively, already sweeping out of the room. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

Kabru’s legs marched him out of the meeting room, trailing just behind Laios. His hand felt cold. He clenched his fist, thought about how weird that must look to any castle staff passing by, then released. Laios was still talking up ahead. With a deep, careful inhale, Kabru decided that whatever it was he was going through, it could wait until after dinner. He just had to be more careful until he could figure it out. He exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.

Finally, he fell into step with Laios, pasting a smile on his face and tucking his arms behind his back. He spent dinner with his elbows close to his side so Laios wouldn’t accidentally bump into him, as he often did. He bid his friend a quick goodnight as soon as he was done with his excuse of a meal- for some reason, he didn’t have much of an appetite.

'Careful', he thought as his legs propelled him to his room, worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He just had to be careful.

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀ ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ғʀᴏᴍ @ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʜɪɴɢs!