#I need to clarify that I don’t care if you like spicy books

[bxriles]

I’m sure that this is not a hot take and that a lot of people feel the same way but like…

The question “does it have spice?!🌶️🔥” makes me want to jump off a cliff. I’m out here looking for gothic book recommendations on Reddit, tumblr, and goodreads and WHY is this the first question so many people ask 😭

Look, I love erotica as much as the next person but come on. There have got to be other things that matter when recommending books or choosing to pick one up, my GOD.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt - Wen Ruohan insists that Jiang Yanli come to the Wen "lecture" as well...

ao3

Jiang Yanli tended to deal with stress in one of two ways: cooking and taking care of people. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the Wen indoctrination camp provided many opportunities for both, although not with the people she might have expected.

Wei Wuxian spent most of his days being valiant and light-hearted, trying to give them strength and courage, and Jiang Cheng followed his lead the way he always did, brave and serious and thoughtful and – well. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate both of them, because she did, but it was only that her own anxiety was more easily dealt with when she could distance herself from her current situation and focus entirely on someone else.

She might have tried to take care of Jin Zixuan, but the Jin sect disciples closed ranks around him, glaring at her as if she were the one who broke off their engagement. Either way, she won’t go where she’s not wanted, and so she backed off and went elsewhere to look for someone that needed her.

Luckily for her, Nie Huaisang was very loud and very vocal and very, very needy.

They made for a surprisingly great fit.

Jiang Yanli had perhaps been forced to step into a maternal role a bit too early – Jiang Cheng had always been a soft child, and their father’s dislike of him had hurt him deeply where it had always seemed somewhat unimportant to Jiang Yanli, and Wei Wuxian was of course a big baby masquerading as a man. Her mother had always been disinterested in playing the mother, more fond of training and discipline, and so they’d turned to her when they were young, and still did today. Back at home, they would often descend to bickering and playing for her attention when she was around, knowing how much she liked it: Wei Wuxian demanding to be called A-Xian and fed spoonfuls like a toddler (albeit one capable of eating extremely spicy food), Jiang Cheng too proud to go that far but somehow managing to lose at least ten years of maturity, always looking at her hopefully to affirm that he did well and to sneak him treats behind everyone’s back.

That was the way she liked it, too. Possibly more than she really should, but it made her feel wanted and useful in a way that her weak cultivation never would.

Nie Huaisang, in contrast, had always been babied - by his father, by his over-protective older brother, by his long-suffering sect that nevertheless indulged him in everything. He’d suffered some things (his father’s death, first and foremost) when he was very young, and it sometimes seemed as he’d reacted to that by purposefully staying that age forever: useless and self-indulgent, spoiled and with a tendency to fuss, an unreasonable expectation that he could just turn his big eyes on anyone in his vicinity and they would immediately feel moved to cater to his every need.

Nie Huaisang, in other words, was just her type.

He was calling her ‘Jiang-jiejie’ within a shichen, putting his head on her shoulder a shichen after that, and kicking up such a dramatic fuss about everything that even Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng – who had come over with threats in their eyes about a strange man, even one of their friends, sticking himself so close to her – had ended up encouraging her to see what she could do to calm him down a little.

After they left, she looked down at his pathetic form and said, “You did that on purpose, you little brat.”

Nie Huaisang looked up at her with an impish grin that somehow still suited the tear stains on his face. “That’s true, but Jiang-jiejie won’t tell on me,” he said, as certain as any child. “Besides, this way we get to spend time together – and if we’re together, my guards will protect you as they do me, and your brothers won’t have to worry so much. Aren’t I smart?”

“Such a thoughtful child,” she praised, and he puffed himself up. “But you shouldn’t mislead your big brothers like that, you know. You could have just told them what you were thinking.”

“But where’d the fun in that be?” he said, and put his head on her shoulder again. “Jiang-jiejie will take care of me while I’m here.”

“Of course,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t punish you if you’re naughty, either.”

She did, too. She made him food out of the terrible provisions they received, she brushed his hair and let him teach her how to do his braids, she tucked him in at night before heading back to her tent, and even sat with him and helped him with his memorization and his chores – and when it was called for, she smacked him lightly on the backs of his hands that he held out to her for the specific purpose, scolded him and made him apologize.

She didn’t have any time to spare to worry about the Wen sect.

It was great.

“Uh, shijie,” Wei Wuxian said after a while. “Are you sure you’re okay with Nie Huaisang? He’s really…sticky.”

“He’s adorable,” Jiang Yanli said.

“He’s taking advantage of you,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed how he gets to sit with you in the shade instead of working with us.”

“He sits in the shade because the Nie sect disciples do his share of the work,” Jiang Yanli pointed out. “Just as you do for me.”

“Yeah, but…”

“He’s harmless,” Jiang Yanli said, even though she suspected that if he were pushed to it Nie Huaisang could escalate from brat past menace into actual threat. Hopefully it would never come that. “And it’s good to have company.”

“What do you even talk about?” Jiang Cheng asked. His cheeks were oddly flushed red, and he was averting his eyes – even more oddly, so was Wei Wuxian, who she previously would have said was too shameless to be embarrassed by anything.

“Art, mostly,” she said, puzzled, and even more puzzled when they both flinched. “Recently we were discussing famous landscape artists from the southern part of Gusu.”

“Oh, landscapes,” Wei Wuxian said, exhaling in relief. “That’s all right then. Glad you’re having a good time, shijie.”

“Have fun,” Jiang Cheng agreed, bobbing his head up and down like a fishing bird.

Later, Jiang Yanli narrated the conversation to Nie Huaisang and gave him a stern look when he started giggling. 

“Would you care to explain the joke to your Jiang-jiejie?” she asked, and he waved his hands for a moment of time to catch his breath before explaining to her that he had spent most of his time at the Cloud Recesses acting as a purveyor of a very different type of art.

Jiang Yanli rolled her eyes – fondly, of course, she was always very fond of her boys, even when they forgot that she was three years older than they were – and said, “All right, then, and when were you going to share some with me?”

“I was trying to figure out what types of things you liked first!” Nie Huaisang protested, and this was why she spent so much time with him even when her other boys were also here – he didn’t forget that she was the jiejie, the one who took care of him and made the decisions about what was appropriate, and he was the didi. He didn’t assume that being a man was more important than age, didn’t put aside their “games” of caring in favor of a valiant warlike demeanor; he remained, wonderfully, the same. “I’d gotten it down to three – here, you take this one; let me know what you think.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out to make sure no one comes by while you’re reading.”

“If it’s anything too filthy, you’ll be punished,” she told him, and he looked so delighted by the notion that she suspected she was going to be getting something very filthy indeed. “Little boys don’t need to be looking at such things.”

“Without supervision,” he clarified, and sat down next to her with bright eyes full of anticipation, somehow even more shameless than Wei Wuxian. “From a qualified adult. Like Jiang-jiejie!”

The artwork was utterly filthy, but it was, in fact, just the sort of thing she liked when she snuck into her mother’s rooms to sneak peeks at books filched from the high shelves – better, even, and Nie Huaisang seemed to have an endless supply of it even though he complained bitterly that he’d only brought the cheap stuff that he wouldn’t mind losing, and that the best of that had been mostly bartered away.

That was what it was for, she discovered. Nie Huaisang was selling pornography to bored Wen sect retainers in exchange for creature comforts – better food, a nicer resting place, leniency when he inevitably failed to complete some chore or another – and using the conversations to elicit information.

Not spying, per se, that was far too serious for someone as determinedly frivolous as Nie Huiasang, but it was nice to know when the Wen sect was planning a surprise inspection in the morning or if it was a good day to put on their worst clothing because they were going to be wading through mud.

“You could be quite dangerous if you wanted to be,” she commented to Nie Huaisang one evening while she was brushing his hair. He was very particular about his braids, but he let her do the brushing and oiling; the repetitive action calmed his anxiety, and seeing him calm down and relax into her care in turn calmed her own. “You’re very good at being underestimated.”

“I think I’m estimated at just about right, actually,” he joked. If it had been Jiang Cheng saying it, he would have been turning a dagger on himself with the words; if it had been Wei Wuxian, he would have been boasting; with Nie Huaisang, it was just a joke. He had the confidence to be openly useless – the surest sign of a supportive loving family, she thought wistfully. “What about you? How dangerous are you when you’re not thinking about how to take care of someone?”

“I’m always thinking of that,” she chided him, and tugged lightly on his braids in chastisement; he shivered and quailed very satisfactorily when she did that. Such a good boy for her, when he wanted to be; a very good little brat the rest of the time. “And you know I’m not much of a cultivator.”

“Neither am I,” he said. “I still think Jiang-jiejie could be very scary if she put her mind to it.”

It was nice that he thought so. Nobody else did – perhaps what was why she’d become so interested in caring for people, in making food that they liked and brushing their hair and taking care of their clothing, the sorts of feminine arts that puzzled her mother and weren’t even necessary for a sect leader’s daughter to know how to do. She did it because it was something she could do that, and after a while it became something she longed to do.

Jiang Yanli loved taking care of people.

And Nie Huaisang was so very good at being taken care of. 

Even better than her little A-Xian, if she would allow herself the traitorous little thought – Wei Wuxian liked to play the child for her sometimes, to be spoiled, but he would get bored soon enough, staying only long enough for a few bites of soup and then running off to bicker with Jiang Cheng or to be the brave and chivalrous da-shixiong of the Jiang sect.

Not so Nie Huaisang. He was her little brat all day long: whining and in need of comfort one moment, running too far ahead and in need of a scolding the next, always pushing his luck to see what he could get away with. He was soft, like her; bad at cultivating and good at things like painting and cooking and gossip, feminine things, domestic things, which meant that they had an endless supply of things to talk about that no one else cared about. He made mischief but was obedient, and he thrived under the structure she provided for him, coaxed into doing what he ought and directed away from doing what he shouldn’t.

He was adorable, in a way that she’d never felt about her actual brothers.

Her newest little didi, her A-Sang.

They were, perhaps, growing a little too close.

(But no, Jiang Yanli still maintained the boundaries of being a proper young lady, good obedient Jiang-guniang. Even if she had picked up a very specific pornography habit – but she was never going to tell anyone about that.)

Still, it came as a surprise when they were all in the dark, wretched cave, when the Wen sect threatened them and the corrupted Xuanwu lashed out against the walls to bring down rocks, when one of the Nie sect disciples pushed her behind a rock, shouting, “Take care of Nie-gongzi!” to her as if they really expected her to keep him safe.

“Your men trust me too much,” she said into Nie Huaisang’s hair – his arms were wrapped around her, his eyes watching the battlefield, flicking from side to side as he tracked the course of battle with far more expertise than her. “Don’t you think they meant for you to take care of me?”

“They want you to help keep me from being upset,” he said, and disengaged from her long enough to pick up a fallen sword and throw it with surprising accuracy into the fray – it pieced one of the Wen sect soldiers from behind, breaking their battle line, and the Nie sect disciples overwhelmed them. 

It was a masterful stroke, but Nie Huaisang recoiled from his own hand as if he’d been burned by it. His eyes were wide and white all around the edges, old fears rearing up to rend him into pieces from the inside - she knew the look of it.

“It’s all right,” she said, whispering in his ear. “You did well, didi.”

His shoulders relaxed.

Whatever had made Nie Huaisang so very afraid of shedding blood must had hurt him very deeply, Jiang Yanli thought, and the Nie sect knew it. It all made sense now: that was why they indulged him, why they spoiled him, why they allowed him to grow up as useless as he was, even as they feared him falling into danger. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t be dangerous - but he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

(Jiang Yanli was very curious to meet the older brother he spoke so very much about. Nearly as much as she spoke of Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng, in fact, and didn’t that say everything she needed to know?)

“You should be careful, Jiang-jiejie,” Nie Huaisang murmured as they watched from their safe place as the battle raged on. Every once in a while, he intervened, each strike perfectly placed to cause maximum damage and showing that no matter how much he whined about training there was still muscle and deadly instincts beneath his skin; after each move, she would squeeze him tight and help him regulate his breathing, suppressing the panic attack he immediately fell into so that it could be postponed until a more convenient time. “I might grow to rely on you, and then where would we be? You’d have no choice but to come back to Qinghe and spend your life there with me.”

It was an offer, she thought in surprise, however gently phrased.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one getting a little too close. 

As it happened, Jiang Yanli didn’t have time to respond before the battle finally ended as abruptly as it had started, the Wen sect fleeing the Xuanwu and closing off the exit to the cave, trapping them inside with a ravenous Xuanwu – although one that couldn’t reach them in the corner where they cowered away from it.

The valorous men and women debated what ought to be done next.

The useless ones sat around and waited for their fates to be decided.

Oddly enough, this was the part that began to wear on her. The battle had passed almost without her noticing it, all her attention on caring for Nie Huaisang, but this aftermath - or preliminary, depending on how you looked at it - was utterly agonizing. Watching her brothers ignore her (useless in a fight), think nothing of her (they don’t need her to care for them), no one thought anything of her (what use is she if they don’t need her?) – and then watching them yell at each other and argue and fight without quarter, without mercy, and knowing that she couldn’t intervene, that she was pointless. Her own stress began rising rapidly, her heart beating hard, her breath starting to come short –

“Hey, Jiang-jiejie,” Nie Huaisang said.

She looked at him.

He smiled at her. “I’m hungry. You should make me some soup.”

“Brat,” Jiang Yanli said automatically, and her shoulders slowly came down, calm returning to her heart. He was obviously saying it to comfort her, she wasn’t stupid, but at the same time the request somehow suited her down to the ground and did the trick the way nothing else might have – after all, if her cowardly little brat had enough energy and attention to spare to be begging for food, things couldn’t be that bad. “What type of soup were you thinking?”

His smile widened as he watched the Xuanwu thrashing in the lake, dissatisfied that it could not capture them and rend their bones with its teeth. “Turtle soup.”

(They served it at their wedding.)

[whump-town]

Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count:  5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of.  Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ‘em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

[thedreadvampy]

ok look please understand that it is absolutely normal to want to live with your best friends, have casual sex with your friends, raise kids with your friends, and keep your friends as the most important people in your life.

whether it's a qpr or not, that's normal and it's healthy.

I think people are often encouraged to think that the historical, traditional expectation is to put your partner before your friends but that isn't...really true? men have very rarely been expected to have a stronger social connection with their partners than their friends, and the only reason women have been expected to centre romantic relationships is because they've historically been socially and financially dependent on making and maintaining a strong relationship.

that isn't to say that your partner shouldn't be as important as your friends. after all, at least in my social setting, relationships aren't a primarily financial and political arrangement - hopefully you are with your partner because they're a good friend to you as well as a partner.

like it's cheesy to say but Sam and Kofi are some of my best friends and that's a big part of our relationship. but like. they aren't the only friends I'm that close to. I'm differently close to, say, my friends Alex and Jake (who I think are probably the most important people in my life), or my friend Joe (who I've lived with in a mutually supportive way for 5 years), or my friend Courtney (who I hook up with regularly and love dearly) or my friend Lesedi (who I have very seriously considered co-parenting a child with) but I'm not less close to them.

and this isn't a Weird Me Thing either. like:

probably about half the people I know have housemates who they've lived with, moved house with multiple times, and who are as intimately involved with their lives as their romantic partners, often more

where I grew up and most places I've been, most people have "aunties" - your mum's best friends who stepped in to help with the kids and who are part of the family. I myself traveled down half the country regularly to help support a friend who was a lone parent while his son was little, from looking after a baby for days at a time to helping him look for daycares and booking doctors appointments, and that's super normal - when I and most of my friends were kids we were all used to spending up to 1/3 of our week at a parent's best friend's house. that's literally a big chunk of the role godparents play in many people's lives too. it takes a village to raise a child and formally or informally most cultures expect that the parents' close friends will chip in and love and care for the child.

Most adults I know have at least one friend who they carve out at least a few hours a week to spend time with - go to the cinema, go for a coffee, cook dinner, catch up and vent and offer emotional support.

Friends with benefits? totally a really thing whatever people tell you, it doesn't have to be emotionally romantic and often actively feels weird to be

It's normal to grieve when a friendship ends and it often affects people as deeply or more deeply than a relationship ending

like, this isn't to say that a lot of media messaging posits this sort of stuff as immature/less important (and for men, the dreaded A Bit Gay) but that messaging actively runs counter to how most people live their lives in the real world, and you know. in a film when someone finds a partner they become the Most Important Thing In Their Lives. in real life most of your friends will agree you're being kind of a jerk if you consistently blow them off in favour of your partner at any age.

and I think the thing that concerns me is the degree to which the idea that you're expected as an adult to choose between romance and maintaining close, meaningful friendships is uncritically absorbed and reflected in how a lot of otherwise very thoughtful people talk about relationships, romance, sex and friendships.

like if your expectation is that having intimate friendships can only happen if you don't have important/lasting romantic/sexual relationships, or that having a relationship means you can't have or want friendships deeper than casual hangouts and occasional Emotion Chats...like, that will harm you.

Not everyone wants or needs romantic/sexual relationships, true, but everyone, regardless of whether they also want that, needs supportive and meaningful and lasting friendships as part of a fully actualised social life. As I say, those needs might be met by some of the same people (I've been in a relationship with Sam for 9 years, but we've been friends since I was 14 and while I can imagine a life where we're not dating or having sex, I genuinely can't bear to imagine a life without his friendship) but emotionally close friendships are still a genuine need.

(plus honestly if the only place you can get emotional closeness is a sexual/romantic partner, that's a very vulnerable place to be in. both for you and for them. It's not good to only have one person you have a serious, close, mutually supportive emotional relationship with - ime most people do best with like 4 or 5 close friends minimum (one or more of whom may or may not be their sexual/romantic/queerplatonic partner)

and this is where I'm dipping a toe into the Spicy (shitty) Discourse, because I don't at a object to the idea of queerplatonic relationships (I don't necessarily understand them, but honestly I haven't understood anything since 1999) it worries me how many people defend the idea of qpps by saying WOULD YOU DO X WITH A FRIEND????

and I understand the defensive impact bc tbh when people say "explain the difference between a queerplatonic partner and a friend" they are very rarely asking in good faith - they've already decided that aro/ace people Just Want To Be Special and that qpps are a Stupid Tumblr Queer Concept.

and it's a shitty question anyway imo because like. I know there's a difference between friends-with-benefits and Girlfriends on an emotional level, or between a friend and a non-sexual romantic relationship. I know there's a difference and most of these people would agree but if you asked me to draw a hard line to define This is Not Romantic and This is Romantic I'd be stumped. it's an emotional reality not a behavioural one so it's not a clearcut concept and it may be different for everyone

B u t

When people respond to this (shitty, bad-faith) question by insisting "friends don't kiss! friends don't live together! friends don't co-raise kids!" they are just flatly Wrong. And it's a really weak argument because of that, because people will just say 'yeah we literally do, a qpp is a normal friendship, qed' and that's. Uh. Based on what's been said that's kind of a reasonable conclusion? because those things are all normal friendship things for a lot of adults.

there are many possible arguments for the term queerplatonic. it's about describing an emotional connection that isn't quite romantic. it's a way of clarifying that your intention is to commit to spending your life with someone. it's a way to define the expectations you have of your relationship. but ultimately it's not your job to justify this to anyone. many people (me included) might not understand exactly what a qpp means to you, but that doesn't mean we have any right to go 'that's meaningless' or talk it down if it isn't hurting anyone

but like. these specific types of defences of qpps (the "qpps are Important Vital Relationships and friends are just People You Don't Mind Spending Time With" attitude) are harmful, both to people not in qpps and to people in qpps

Exceptionalising the idea of having friends you love like family, who are the most important people in your life, who you might choose to live with or share your life with or be the person you'd trust with your children/your wellbeing/your health? That's dangerous!

and it takes us no closer to adequately valuing close friendships to say "close friendships are what QPPs are and they're a direct replacement for romantic/sexual partnerships". we can have both, and we should feel able have both. not necessarily both a qpp and a relationship, but both a life partner (sexual/romantic/queerplatonic) and other friends who are intimate parts of our lives and families. That's such a profoundly vital part of being queer particularly but also just of being, and it stresses me that people think that's a Special Kind of Relationship not a normal close friendship.

[rebelscum-2187]

So after nearly 22 years of life on this planet, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am high functioning autistic. I believe I fell through the cracks of an early diagnosis for the following reasons:

1.) I am Female (I learned how to mask myself very early on)

2.) I have a gifted IQ (above 130) and was classified as such in 4th grade so no one considered that I could be both ASD and intellectually gifted.

I am in the beginning stages of unmasking and am currently seeking an official diagnosis. Right now, I’m trying to write down everything I know about my neurodivergent experience so here’s a list of things I’ve experienced and believe to be relevant. If you can relate or you understand please comment and share! I’m new to this community and it feels so good to finally meet people who understand and can relate. Ok, Here we go.

“So the general population doesn’t memorize scripts to movies or watch the same one every day for a year?”

“People think it’s weird that I prefer to have subtitles on when I watch stuff, even though I don’t have damaged hearing”

“I watch movies with subtitles because I won’t understand what’s said if I don’t read it. I have no hearing issues.”

“I cannot hear/understand someone if I have one ear bud in and one out. Too much sensory input at once.”

“I thought I had a hearing deficit because I literally could not understand people at church or parties or other places with a lot of background noise, and I was so confused when they told me my hearing was normal.”

“I love star wars. Not just love but I could tell you what planet each character is from and what kind of ship they use, what model droid that one is and I will gladly talk about it all day if you let me. Everyone now gets me Star Wars stuff for my birthday and holidays”

“Eye contact is so uncomfortable for me that sometimes it ‘burns’ to maintain it, but then I overcompensate and stare too intensely. Over the years, being female, I’ve forced myself to make eye contact for a certain number of seconds and then look away a certain number of seconds but I’m concentrating so hard on that, that I don’t remember anything that was said to me.”

“Giving me verbal directions is a special kind of hell. I need it written down.”

“I can memorize pictures of things and exactly where every kid sat in my 10th grade US history class as well as my 9th grade geometry class.”

“I never fit in anywhere, in my childhood, most of my adolescence, except the swim team and my new church.”

“Team sports are the worst. I can’t communicate fast enough, I’m bad with hand eye coordination and keeping track of a ball. I excelled in individual sports and fell in love with swimming.”

“I often found it much easier to make friends with older kids because I could have intelligent conversations with them and their good social skills could make up for my lack of social skills.”

“But, I had a few friends that were considerably younger who I could still play imaginatively with dolls when I was 13 and one particular friend was 9. I had a lot of trouble getting a long with her sister who was the same age as me.”

“It physically pains me to hear someone mispronounce a word, spell something wrong, or make a grammatical mistake. I corrected my cousin A LOT when we were kids, she frequently got mad and I couldn’t understand why. My grandma would tell me to stop because correcting people is rude.”

“One of my special interests as a kid was dolphins. I was 5-6 years old and I remember being so excited when my mom let me check out like 10 books from the library and I read them quickly and multiple times.”

“I corrected a teacher one time about dolphins. She said dolphins weren’t whales and I knew FOR A FACT that ‘dolphins were a type of small whale’ because I read it in one of my books. She laughed at me and so did the rest of the class and I felt stupid even though I was right. This led to me suppressing my knowledge and real self and ultimately more masking.”

“As per that last one, my memory is impeccable.”

“I had another special interest in dogs when I got a bit older. My mom bought me a book with every kind of breed of dog, where they came from, their temperament, their size, everything. I can still, to this day, tell you the breed of dog just by looking at it.”

“I always wanted a best friend but never had one. I had groups of friends but never someone who would call me their best friend. When I got a boyfriend in high school, I was so excited because he called me his best friend and he was mine and I finally had that feeling reciprocated. He also had a gifted IQ and dyslexia, ADHD and a few other things so we understood each other quite well.”

“I can’t tell if someone is flirting with me because I can’t read between the lines. I also don’t know how to flirt because if I like a guy too much I get soooo nervous and I stumble over my words and it’s a disaster.”

“When I liked this guy (last year, 2019) I would freeze up so bad when I talked to him that I rehearsed every conversation I wanted to have with him so I wouldn’t mess it up. I would write topics in the notes section of my phone before hanging out with him so I’d remember what to ask him. It made for very awkward and forced conversations and probably drove him away.”

“Sarcasm and jokes almost always go over my head. The boyfriend I had in high school was very funny and outgoing but used a lot of sarcasm and it always caused disagreements because I took him seriously when he was being sarcastic.”

“I talk slowly and very monotone.”

“I have no difficulty reading in my head and can read/comprehend it well, but reading aloud is difficult and I often stumble over words and mess up.”

“I need directions repeated multiple times before I understand.”

“I went to the beach to hang out with some church friends yesterday. They all play spike ball and are so confused as to why I sit there and don’t play. I’ve tried playing spike ball but it involves way too much hand eye coordination and I’m so bad at it that it’s embarrassing. So I don’t play.”

“That same night, a group of them said ‘let’s play uno!’ And I was so happy to play something familiar that didn’t involve a lot of coordination. Then they said ‘we’re playing SPICY uno, right?’ And immediately my heart sank because I knew they were playing a different way that I wasn’t familiar with. Again, receiving verbal directions was hell and I didn’t understand it. I was so bad at it and wasn’t getting it, and in the middle of the game I had the urge to cry. I wanted to cry because I couldn’t even get this right. I suppressed the urge, of course, so they wouldn’t think I was even more weird than the already suspected. Another group of people that I wouldn’t fit in with.”

“Making friends has always been so difficult. Once I make a good friend I hang on to them for as long as possible even if they’re not very nice because I’m scared I’ll have to make a new one if I lose them. And we all know how hard making new friends is for me.”

“I’m a perfectionist. Especially with my art projects. When I took a painting class I realized I do it the wrong way. You’re supposed to paint layer by layer over the entire canvas and focus on small details at the very end. I work on one small area at a time and do small details too soon. I often spend way too much time on small details before I realize that the larger shape of the object isn’t proportionate and then it’s too late.”

“I won’t even attempt tasks if I know I can’t do them perfectly.”

“I have perfect pitch. I don’t know if that has anything to do with autism or that I just started music lessons when I was young. I can tune instruments perfectly without a tuner or reference note and I never understood why my orchestra teacher had me play the A key on the piano over and over again while she walked around and tuned everyone’s instruments when I could do it without any reference. I can hear it in my head.”

“When my parents got me a keyboard at age 7-8, they were impressed because I could sit down, without listening to any song and find the notes of a song I liked by ear. I still do that today but my piano is very out of tune and it bothers me.”

“Autistic boys tend to isolate and not care about concealing their stims or weird behavior but girls don’t. I am a ‘loner’ and always have been but I want so badly to belong and have friends and socialize, but I’ve always been so bad at it that I strike out every time. I often drink at social gatherings because it helps me loosen up and talk more freely. I guess it helps me lose the mask for a while.”

“I HATE people touching me. I’ve always hated it and still hate it to this day unless it’s someone I’m super comfortable with. I’ve been told I have the ‘dead fish hand shake’ and I’m an awkward hugger. My friend picked me up from behind and carried me for a few seconds because we were all goofing off and having fun but afterwards I was so mad at him I got really quiet and didn’t talk for a while. I told him later on the ride home that if he did that again I would slap him. “

“Everyone thinks it’s weird that I don’t like touching people, and some of my friends who also don’t like touching people were abused and I always thought, ‘there had to be a reason, maybe I was abused as a kid and repressed it.’ It’s been so long and I’ve finally realized that maybe it’s just because I have Aspergers or ASD. “

“When I make sarcastic remarks or jokes I often have to clarify because I say them in such a monotone way that people think I’m serious.”

“I’ve always joked that I’m just really clumsy and uncoordinated, and chalked it up to being tall and lanky. That’s why swimming was the perfect sport for me. Little to no risk of injury and not much hand eye coordination needed to be good at it. Just hours of practice, technique and endurance.”

“I also injure myself quite a lot because I’m ‘a klutz.’”

“Stims: I scratch my head and then smell my fingers and I will do this for hours if I am able (I know that one is weird so I only do it at home) popping my knuckles a ridiculous amount of times when I feel uncomfortable and don’t know what to do with my hands. I twirl my hair constantly (that one is pretty socially acceptable so I do it in class nonstop). I tap my foot or bounce my leg, I make weird facial expressions and forget to hide those. People notice but they often think it’s funny because I’ll make a face if someone says something dumb and make an expression that people seem to relate to. I scrunch my nose if I’m uncomfortable or just whenever.”

Special interests: Star Wars, Disney (I know every word to every Disney song and I watch animated Disney movies over and over again, like literally every night) dolphins, the ocean, dogs, theology/the Bible.

“With my art work, and other things, I will get so focused on a painting that I will work non stop for 8-9 hours (all day basically) and not eat because I’m so focused that I forget to eat.”

“I think I slur my words a lot and sometimes my friends will laugh and be like ‘did you just say ____.?!?!’And I’ll clarify and they will continue laughing and say ‘oh it sounded like you said this.’ I hate when that happens.”

“Loud noises really bother me. I jump if I hear an unexpected loud noise and I hate people yelling, even if it’s not directed at me, it makes me want to cry. “

“I loved the color blue so much as a kid (I still do) but my entire wardrobe was basically different shades of blue t-shirts. I also only ever wore baggy t-shirts and baggy cargo shorts (I kinda dressed like a boy) because it was comfortable and I didn’t like getting comments if I looked “cute today”. I hated the attention. I also never ever wore my hair down to school. It always had to be up in a tight pony tail. I still don’t like my hair being in my face to this day and wear it up almost every day.”

“The other day, I was hanging out with a friend and she was trying to tell a story but I kept getting distracted and interrupting her. She said, ‘Emily, you kind of interrupt people a lot.’ At first I was hurt, but then I realized it’s not entirely my fault and it’s an autistic thing.”

“I mask so much that I have rehearsed responses to social interactions and will often get so nervous or start speaking from the script before I realize I’ve said the wrong response. Of course I’ll think about it all day after that and think of ‘well great, so and so thinks I’m weird now.’”

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 3

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Summary: Lan Wangji and Wei Ying go to Caiyi, but have an unexpected encounter.

Notes: See end

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 

AO3 link

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

Wangji soaked in Wei Ying’s good cheer, how he flitted around the mountain path on the way to Caiyi to examine anything that caught his eye. He had to discourage him from capturing another rabbit for the herd in Cloud Recesses; after all, they would have to go back if he was successful, and they had not yet reached their destination.

“On the way home, then,” Wei Ying said, his grin as wide as those during his days as a student, and Wangji’s heart clenched in joy to see it.

Caiyi was bustling, the fishermen hawking the morning catch, and Wei Ying held back a little at the chaos of it, staying closer to Wangji, reminding him that he was still fragile, still easily overwhelmed. This was the first trip to town since he had truly started to heal, after all.

Wangji had a mental map of the town and the places he wished to take him, purchases he wished to make; a gaun, scented oil for his hair, spicy foods—whatever Wei Ying wanted, he would have—and the personal additions to the betrothal gifts he would present to the Jiang siblings.

As hesitant as he seemed to enter the crowd, Wei Ying was also fascinated by the fish hawking, curious about the tubs of live catch. He stopped to watch a turtle for a bit, fascinated by the markings on the top of its neck that resembled eyes. It was a colorful specimen, with a dark brown shell and distinctive markings.

“Do you want it?” Wangji asked softly. 

Wei Ying smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Where would I put it? The Cold Spring? Your uncle would kick me out.”

Wangji frowned, troubled that Wei Ying still thought, even jokingly, he would be discarded so easily, that his place was so tenuous. He had to remind himself that shufu and xiongzhang would clarify that today, that he would soon realize the Cloud Recesses was his home. 

“There is a small pond outside the jingshi,” he offered.

“‘Pets are forbidden,’ Lan Zhan. You don’t need more creatures to take care of.”

He wondered if they were speaking of the turtle anymore. 

“Not a pet,” Wangji clarified. “It is a wild thing, and could live to old age there, protected.”

As he hoped Wei Ying himself would in the jingshi with him—not as a caged creature, but as his beloved, loved as he deserved.

Wei Ying was quiet for a moment, watching the turtle, but finally nodded.

“Let’s rescue it, then,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So it won’t end up someone’s dinner tonight.”

Turtles, after all, were symbols of longevity, power, and tenacity. In some ways, they represented what Wei Ying had endured and survived. He had endured so much, had defeated the water he had been left in to die. Turtles were seen as powerful bringers of luck and serenity, both things Wei Ying could use. Perhaps this encounter, their purchase of it, was auspicious. 

He stayed close as Wangji purchased it and smiled more sincerely when he handed him a covered basket with the turtle secured inside.

“We will release it in the pond when we return home,” he told him softly, mentally adding the bookseller to his list of places to go so they could find a book on turtles. 

They wandered toward the market, Wei Ying moving carefully so as not to jostle the turtle. The bookseller was first, and they perused the shelves together, quickly finding a suitable book. 

Wangji noticed Wei Ying’s eyes lingering on a book of poetry and pulled it from the shelf, curious. It was a collection of the poems of Ruan Ji and Ji Kang, two notable sages in a time of turbulent wars, and rumored lovers. He could see the blush on Wei Ying’s face, and felt his own ears heat as he recalled that one of the two had written homoerotic poetry; he wondered if this volume contained them. 

He bought both books, slipping them in his qiankun pouch. They could read them together. 

At the stall with scented oils for hair, Wei Ying seemed lost at the number of options, and looked to Wangji for help. 

“You can try smaller amounts of different ones until you find one you like,” Wangji said softly, “but this might fit you.”

He had the vendor mix a small sample of orange and cinnamon for Wei Ying to smell and was pleased to see the scents seemed to relax him. Wangji was happy to purchase it.

Wei Ying, he knew, often let his hair go, not taking care of it. He would take charge of it personally, he decided, perhaps enlisting Jiang Yanli’s help while they were courting, when it would be a bit inappropriate for him to do so.

Wangji noticed a stall of colorful candies and stopped to buy Wei Ying tanghulu. This seller, he knew, removed the hawthorn seeds and replaced them with red bean paste before glazing them with sugar.

He took a bite when Wei Ying offered, enjoying the sweet and tart mixtures, the crunch followed by the meatiness of the hawthorn and the soft cream of the bean paste. Wei Ying happily munched on the rest on the way to the next stall. 

Before they reach it, Wei Ying froze, the mostly-eaten tanghulu falling from his fingers to the ground. Wangji followed his gaze and found Jin Zixuan at a nearby stall, along with Madam Jin—who, he recalled, was the sworn sister of Madam Yu.

Wangji could hear Wei Ying’s breath, how it had started to speed up, and recognized he was in the beginning of a panic attack. He turned to face him, moving Wei Ying so he could still see her in his peripheral vision—he already knew she was there, and could panic worse if he couldn’t see her, but he tried to encourage him to focus on him. 

“I am here,” Wangji told him. “You are not alone.”

Wei Ying managed a nod, taking deep breaths and pressing one thumb to the opposite palm, something the mind healers had taught him to help him find calm.

Jin Zixuan approached, Madam Jin hanging back. He bowed and Wangji bowed back, noting that Wei Ying did the same, shaking slightly.

“Lan-er-gongzi, Wei-gongzi, we intended to visit Cloud Recesses. I didn’t realize you would be in Caiyi.”

He sounded apologetic, and Wangji knew he could see Wei Ying struggling. 

“Wei-gongzi, my mother has come to speak with you.”

A panicked noise, so soft Wangji was sure only he heard it, escaped Wei Ying, his breath stuttering again. His knuckles were white, his hand clenched around the basket handle. 

Madam Jin was looking at Wei Ying with an expression that bordered on pity, he realized.

“I apologize for your ill treatment at the hands of my former sworn sister, Wei Wuxian,” she said bluntly, bowing low to him. “And for the discomfort my presence has brought you.”

Confusion washed over Wei Ying’s face at her words, but he also seemed to focus, coming out of his panic.

“Former?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Madam Jin nodded.

“I could not continue being her sworn sister after what she did to you, her own ward. It was inexcusable.”

Wei Ying looked lost, almost dizzy, and Wangji placed a hand on his upper arm in case he fell.

“Over something as small as talismans to change the color of the tea,” Jin Zixuan muttered.

Wangji felt Wei Ying tremble, the memory tied up in his near-death. He had stuck talismans to the undersides of each sect leader’s teapot, and the tea had come out in the sect’s main color—Jiang Fengmian’s, violet; Nie Mingjue’s, deep green; xiongzhang’s, a pale blue; Wen Ruohan’s, crimson; Jin Guangshan’s, golden. Even minor sect leaders’ teapots had transformed the color of their tea.

The talismans had changed nothing else about the tea, neither flavor nor quality, and had been well-received by the sect leaders when Wei Ying had explained the tea was safe.

“Just an extra treat for the discussion conference,” he had said with a respectful bow and a cheeky smile.

Madam Yu had ordered him out, stalking after him, and it had been the last time anyone had seen Wei Ying until Jiang Yanli found him so close to death.

“I revealed lax security, she said,” Wei Ying murmured, his voice hollow.

He was shaking more obviously now, and Wangji moved closer as he swayed. They had never spoken of the incident, and he had no idea how Wei Ying might react.

“That’s ridiculous!” Jin Zixuan muttered, the anger in his voice surprising. “Of course you had access as head disciple.”

His comment seemed to jolt Wei Ying out of what Wangji had feared might be the beginning of a fugue, and he started at the Jin heir blankly, like he hadn’t expected a defense from him.

Wangji approved of his anger, befitting one who would be Wei Ying’s brother in law. Madam Yu’s actions had clearly led to a change in Jin Zixuan for the better. He could remember, vaguely, the young man trying to comfort Jiang Yanli as she sobbed, telling her that her brother was strong, he would be okay. Wangji had been far more focused on Wei Ying, leaving him only to help the Jiang siblings pack his belongings and expedite their departure, and only in the care of xiongzhang.

“We are bringing up bad memories,” Madam Jin realized, her voice regretful. “I actually wish to commission you for your talisman work, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Ying swallowed hard, clearly making an effort to stay present mentally. 

“What kind of talisman, Jin-furen?”

She offered him a gentle smile.

“I’d prefer not to discuss it in the street. Let me treat you to lunch, and we can get a private room and chat. With Lan Wangji and my son present, of course.”

Wangji realized she was trying to assure Wei Ying she did not wish him ill, would not seek to harm him, and perhaps was letting him know as well.

Wei Ying gave a jerky nod, glancing at him as though for reassurance. He decided to lead the way to the restaurant he had intended to take him to for lunch, a place known for spicy fare but with dishes that suited his own palate. It happened to have private dining rooms, which Wangji had intended for them anyway, so Wei Ying would have a break from people.

The move put the Jins behind them, he realized when Wei Ying clung to his arm, but the walk was blessedly short. Madam Jin was kind enough to lead the way up the stairs, clearly recognizing Wei Ying’s distress. He was thankful that she also allowed Wei Ying to decide where in the smaller room to sit, deferring to him in a way that most people of her station would not.

Though her kindness was not unselfish—she did, after all, want something—he appreciated it nonetheless. He led Wei Ying to a seat around the table, where he could see the door, a window nearby to facilitate escape if needed, both things that might make him feel more secure.

Wangji worried Wei Ying might eat little, a behavior that manifested when he was stressed, but he could do nothing to alleviate that.

“May we speak before we eat?” Madam Jin asked after settling across from them with her son. “If you decide against taking the commission, I will still purchase lunch. It is the least I can do given your willingness to speak with me.”

Wei Ying nodded again, grasping Wangji’s hand under the table. Wangji squeezed gently, trying to reassure him.

“As you may be aware, my husband has… dallied,” she began.

Jin Zixuan’s face turned a bit sour at this, and Wangji was reminded of Wei Ying’s question to him when he asked for permission to court Jiang Yanli.

“Given… recent events, I have decided it would be prudent to find the children resulting from his indiscretions.”

Wei Ying’s gaze sharpened a bit.

“For what purpose?” he asked softly.

Wangji squeezed his hand again, knowing his thoughts; Wei Ying would not wish to create anything that could result in deaths.

Madam Jin smiled, as though the question pleased her.

“To protect them. I will not legitimize them, but I want them and their mothers, who were perhaps lied to or coerced, or whose freedom needs to be bought from brothels, to be safe and cared for. The children should have the opportunity to learn to cultivate and have a relationship with my son as their half-brother, along with their other half-siblings.”

She sighed softly. 

“All involved are innocents, and I could stay bitter as I once was and wish them ill, but after… what was done to you, I don’t wish to be that person. The world could mistake that behavior as acceptable, as there have been few consequences. I want to offer an alternative.”

Wei Ying seemed to need to take several breaths, his hand tightening on Wangji’s for a moment, before he could nod. Wangji could see a suspicious sheen to his eyes, and realized Wei Ying was overcome by Madam Jin’s desire to make right somehow, to force something positive to result from what was done to him.

“One to find, and one to also test those who step forth with claims?” Wei Ying asked after he had calmed. 

Madam Jin let out a breath, looking relieved, almost as though she had been concerned Wei Ying would not be up to the task, perhaps still too traumatized. 

Not long ago, he would have been, Wangji had to admit. But he was getting better, and he had never stopped inventing new talismans. 

“Yes, that would also be useful,” she said. “Thank you.”

“There would likely be a limit on distance,” Wei Ying told her. “But I’d have to experiment with options and prototypes.”

Madam Jin set a large bag of gold in front of him, and Wei Ying’s eyes widened.

“This is a down payment. I understand it may take time, and there is no rush. I will reimburse you for any materials needed, if that becomes an issue.”

Wei Ying looked up at her, frowning slightly.

“I will need your husband’s blood,” he said. “Unless you want me to focus on the sibling aspect, and then I could use Jin Zixuan’s.”

Wangji realized this was Wei Ying’s way of asking if this was being done secretly, without Sect Leader Jin’s knowledge.

Madam Jin actually laughed softly. 

“Oh, you are bright,” she said, her voice full of delighted praise. “My husband is still claiming innocence, and is not willing to take part in this project. My son has kindly offered to help instead.”

Wangji tried not to be concerned about the implications that this could be against Sect Leader Jin’s wishes. Wei Ying was under the protection of Gusu Lan now, and he would defend him personally if need be.

Jin Zixuan pulled out a pouch and slid it gently across the table.

“Several vials of my blood. I can provide more if needed.”

Wei Ying looked momentarily shocked at the implied level of trust—the amount of blood needed to harm someone via a curse or hex was miniscule, after all—and attempted a smile. 

“I’ll try not to waste any.”

Jin Zixuan only nodded, and Wangji took the bag to slip into his qiankun pouch. Wei Ying handed him the pouch of money without looking at him, the exchange made less simple by the fact that Wei Ying didn’t let go of his hand under the table. Though his grip wasn’t tight, Wangji refused to break it, refused to let go when he needed him.

Madam Jin slid the door open to let the servers know they were ready for tea.

Wei Ying’s gaze had gone a bit glassy, though his eyes were moving as he thought, perhaps distracted by ideas for the talisman. Wangji resolved to ensure Wei Ying ordered and ate plenty, knowing he might need prompting. He knew they would return to Cloud Recesses following this, without a replacement for Wei Ying’s broken guan, and without additional gifts for the Jiang siblings. Wei Ying would need time to rest before meeting with shufu and xiongzhang, particularly after the strain he had just endured.

They would release the turtle in front of the jingshi together, and Wangji would play the guqin for him while he rested. Then, following the meeting, wherein Wei Ying’s status would be clarified, Wangji would seek permission from his siblings to court him.

He ran his thumb across the back of Wei Ying’s hand, and was relieved when the act was returned, when the glassiness left his eyes and he looked at him with a tired-looking smile.

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

I didn’t really expect the turtle thing, but it happened kind of organically as I was bringing Caiyi to life. Wei Ying is going to name it Tang 汤, meaning ‘soup,’ because of course he is. This particular turtle is a species native to mountainous regions of southern China, the four-eyed turtle. And now I need to do more research on turtles because of course I do.

In addition to Wei Ying’s recovery, this fic is also in part about the cultivation world’s reaction to what Yu Ziyuan did, in that there are some consequences. Hence Madam Jin dissolving their sworn sisterhood and commissioning Wei Ying. Her decision to take in and ensure Jin Guangshan’s bastards and mistresses are cared for is partially out of spite for what her former sworn sister did, but is also the result of some soul-searching on her part. This is not Madam Jin assuming that Wei Ying is Jiang Fengmian’s secret bastard son, btw.

As I’ve noted in other MDZS fics I’m writing, I like to explore how a point of change can cascade to change other things, so I am back on my bullshit. Also, I think this makes the third fic where I’ve referenced Ruan Ji and Ji Kang. I just bought a book of their translated poetry that’s supposed to be delivered next week.

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode six: Kyoya's willing day out, part two!

Tamaki's food platter:

They went around the isles, starting with the sweets, Tamaki took a long time examining each treat, giving it great thought as Kyoya simply picked up a small bar of white chocolate, "your rose colour is white is it not?"

"Oh! Good point Kyoya! Write that down!"

• White chocolate (as per rose colour)

A problem arose when Tamaki found crown shaped gummies and rose shaped ones, he was having a bit of trouble deciding between that. Kyoya sighed and leaned against the wall, watching Tamaki's lovely thinking expression, the way his face screws up is so cute and Kyoya feels all his worries melting away as the idiot debates himself.

"Well personally, I think you should go for the roses, and maybe if you can't decide on a fifth, get the crown's as well?" Kyoya gave his input, barely glancing at Tamaki as the king glanced back at him.

"Ohh, maybe, I like that idea." Tamaki smiled softly, "you're always so smart!"

Kyoya felt a little fuzzy at that, loving it when Tamaki gave him positive attention- sometimes he thought maybe he was just in love with the praise…

• Rose shaped gummies

They turned a corner and came across little iced cookies covered in yellow icing, shaped like little crowns even. Tamaki gasped softly, turning to look at Kyoya, "these are perfect aren't they? Ooh, there are silver ones too! We could put those in yours!" He smiles, gesturing to the same shaped cookies with grey icing now, Kyoya found it amusing how much Tamaki liked the title Kyoya had been given… the shadow king, Kyoya supposed that was the closest to queen he was ever going to get.

• Crown shaped cookies with yellow icing (matching the grey ones I will have)

Another strange thing they noticed were these little white balls that seemed to be… milk gummies of some sort, neither Kyoya nor Tamaki could figure out what they were exactly, so of course they went on the list.

• Milk gummies

They found little candy hearts with little messages written on them, Tamaki instantly fell in love with them, reading off as many as he could find. "Ooh! Kyoya we simply have to get some of these!"

"Hm, but some of them are a little crude." Kyoya had definitely just read one referencing sex, he had no idea commoners could be so crude. He tapped his pen on his book slowly, rhymically, it helped him to focus on what was being said.

"Well we could clarify we don't want any crude ones? I would hate to offend the ladies but I have a feeling they'd love these adorable little candies!"

Kyoya almost chuckled at that, letting out a little amused huff through his smirk, "I'll put it on the list then."

• Heart candies with messages on (no crude ones)

That completed Tamaki's list, Kyoya shut his book, making his way to the counter when Tamaki grabbed his wrist, "come on Kyoya, did you forget about yourself?" Oh, he must have. That's the trouble with being forgotten until last on the list, you forget you were ever on it.

"Ah yes, of course. Well we know at least one of the things on the list, what else do you propose?"

Kyoya's food platter:

• The crown shaped cookies with grey icing (so as to match Tamaki's)

Tamaki smiled, chuckling and looking around at the sweets in the isle, "you're not a fan of sweet things, but there are these strange little lavender flavoured candies you might like?" He held up a small packet for Kyoya to examine, he did like the colour, and how on earth would commoner eat flowers, how odd.

"Commoners even eat flowers now? I thought they grew them for the sight, not for fun."

Tamaki nodded, frowning, "oh those poor creatures! Do you think we should let Haruhi take the roses home with her after sessions?"

"Hmmm, I feel she might be insulted if we did that." Kyoya shrugged, writing it on the list.

• Lavender candies (do commoners eat flowers?)

They made a b-line to the savory section after that, looking around at all the food there. Kyoya was rather interested by the tiny pies no bigger than the mini cupcakes on the list for Honey, but the pies didn't fit his theme at all, so he moved his gaze elsewhere. There were pastries stuffed with curry, and as much as he loved spicy food, he didn't think the ladies would appreciate breathing fire, no matter how figurative it was.

"Ooh, come look at this one Kyoya, it's a little pie!" Tamaki was over, looking at a collection of open pies, filled with a strange mixture of meat, fruit and spices. It smelled amazing.

"It looks very nice, but I'm not sure it would match my theme much." He spoke his mind, glancing over to the basket next to the pies, spotting some fresh bread coated in sunflower seeds. "Oh, but this on the other hand is better fit."

"It's… bread?" Tamaki looked over, his disdain for the plain taste of his vice, "isn't that a bit… bland?"

Oh. Oh dear. Kyoya would never want Tamaki to think less of him, but he couldn't help but bristle at the strange sort of tone Tamaki had taken, what offence was meant by that? "What's that supposed to mean?" His tone was automatically harsh, in a way that made Tamaki glance up at him with wide eyes.

"Oh… oh I didn't mean- I mean, well- the guests might not enjoy such uh- lack of flavour..?" Clearly, something in Kyoya's tone or expression had sent Tamaki into a panic. Kyoya sighed, looking down in shame, he loved being bitter sure- but he'd made Tamaki panic…

"It doesn't matter, it's just bread Tamaki, calm down." He glances away, not meeting Tamaki's eyes, "just get whatever you think will fit."

Tamaki sighs, standing up and grabbing Kyoya by the wrist, moving his hand up to close around Kyoya's own, he smiles softly, "oh come on Kyoya, you know I love you, you're my best friend. You know what? It's not like you talk to the ladies as much as everyone else, let's get that bread, hm?" Kyoya nodded, watching Tamaki head to the other end of the isle, he let out a breath- he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it… he could feel himself swoon, oh this was new…

"Oh. Wow…" Kyoya felt his face burning up, he almost wondered if the makeup might melt. But he sighed- more of a heavy exhale then anything, looked down at his book, adding the new point.

• Sunflower seed bread

He went over to look at what Tamaki was examining, bread baked around a bit of steak- Kyoya hadn't even realised commoners could afford steak, how strange, commoners had a lot more than he'd previously thought…

"It's not real steak," Tamaki must have overheard him, Kyoya glanced at him, knelt down, he was reading the labels on the baskets, "it's some sort of commoners version, only comes in well done."

"Only comes in well done? What kind of barbaric…" Kyoya shook his head, sighing at the thought of something so strange.

"Maybe the ladies would appreciate learning how commoners take their steaks?"

"What? You want to poison them?"

Tamaki just raised an eyebrow, smiling up at him. Kyoya rolls his eyes, "oh, *I* want to poison them, alright then, I'll put it on the list." He chuckles, appreciating the king's stupid sense of humour.

• Bread covered steak (made the commoner way)

"Right," Tamaki stood up, stretching, "only one more thing then we can go and get lunch, all this looking at food is making me hungry." Kyoya had to nod at that, he hadn't eaten breakfast this morning, he hadn't exactly eaten anything yesterday either… god he was actually really hungry now he thought about it. He should definitely probably eat more, but he just never had time, it wasn't like he didn't have more important things to do most of the time, food was just a distraction in all reality, but he supposed he did kind of need to to survive-

"Oh hey! Chilli chocolate!" Tamaki was… where was he? Kyoya wandered towards his voice, finding him in the sweets isle, holding what looked like a bar of dark chocolate. He smiled when he saw Kyoya, showing him the bar, "it's like chocolate but it's got chilli flakes in it! Aren't commoners so smart?" Kyoya smiled softly, nodding.

"They really are, shall I put it on the list?"

"Do you want to?" He was so sweet, so caring, Kyoya couldn't help but fall in love with every word spoken, but of course he couldn't say that.

"I'll be honest, I really just want to get lunch now." He couldn't stop himself sounding a little impatient, his stomach growling just as he said that, as if to prove his point- he would have gotten slightly flushed if it wasn't for the makeup. He quickly finished the list so he wouldn't have to look Tamaki in the face.

• Chilli chocolate

"Aww!" Tamaki seemed to think it wasn't deserving of shame, but endearing instead, "you should have *said* something Kyoya! We could've gone earlier- when was the last time you ate anything?" He put a hand on Kyoya's shoulder, smiling at him, "let's order our platters then we can go and find somewhere to grab lunch."

Kyoya nodded, heading to the country and putting down his book with the pages open to the lists, "take a photo, I'm not tearing my book." The girl at the counter nods, pulling out her phone and taking a picture.

"Alright sirs, just scan your card and leave your number and/or email address so we can contact you for pick up." She seems slightly concerned by the duo, but smiles sweetly either way. Tamaki swiped the club card whilst Kyoya noted down his email, he'd be the one focusing on the behind the scenes stuff after all. The moment that was done, and the cashier had thanked them, Tamaki grabbed Kyoya's arm gently.

"Come on then! Let's go get lunch!" He beams at his vice, clearly still very excited, "I wanna go to a commoners cafe!"

Who was Kyoya to deny that? They soon found themselves sitting inside a ridiculously small cafe, the entire cafe about the size of the club room- maybe smaller. The smell of coffee and warm food made Kyoya even more hungry, he was beginning to have hunger pangs, though he wouldn't want to admit to such weakness. "What do you want to get then?" Tamaki was smiling over at him, holding the little menu, "they've got sandwiches and things like that, it's all so cute!"

Kyoya hummed in agreement, not really paying attention, "just get whatever you think is good." He didn't really know much about food if he was honest, he just wanted to eat something at this point. Tamaki nodded, standing up to go and order, commoners were so strange, there weren't even any waiters here. He just sighed, gazing over to watch Tamaki order, he was accidentally wooing the poor cashier here as well, it wasn't Tamaki's fault he was so handsome, so polite and so very charming, accidentally charming everyone he came into contact with- kyoya included. He couldn't help but to admire the way he stood, the way he spoke… everything about him exuded that princely charm he claimed to have, but Kyoya would never concede that Tamaki was right.

He was just happily admiring Tamaki when said man returned to the table, smiling softly with two cups of coffee, placing one down in front of Kyoya. He watched Kyoya pick the cup up with shaking hands, "I got us both some toasted sandwiches; cheese, ham and tomato. Doesn't that sound nice?" Kyoya nodded, slowly sipping the warm drink he had been handed, Tamaki's smile was truly his favourite thing, it made all of this so worth it.

He sighed softly, forcing a smile, he may as well put his plan into action. "Your smile is nicer when it's genuine, Tamaki," he pauses, he didn't want Tamaki to realise he was coming on to him, "the girls might notice the difference between that and your regular charming one." He refused to meet Tamaki's eyes, glancing back to see the counter, where the cashier was taking someone else's order.

He could hear Tamaki chuckle, a wonderful sound, "you think so? Well believe it or not, hanging out with my bestest friend is a lot more enjoyable than catering to those wonderful ladies."

Kyoya paused, he could almost feel his heart skip at those words, his grip on his coffee tightened as he swallowed weakly, "the guests must not be that important to you if I rank over them." He knew he was barely anything without his name, so to hear Tamaki actually say that spending time with him was more enjoyable then hosting, it made his heart flutter beyond anything before that.

Tamaki looked at Kyoya in great interest, "Kyoya… are you feeling alright? Of course you're more important to me then the guests, you're my best friend, why would you think otherwise?"

Oh no, Kyoya didn't expect the king to see straight through him like that- Tamaki always saw the truth at the most inopportune times. He couldn't just admit the whole low self-esteem thing to him, nor the excruciating crush, so he bristled slightly, frowning. "You know that I mean, idiot."

There was a pause, but before Tamaki could respond, someone came over with their food, Tamaki thanked them and pushed one of the plates towards Kyoya. Oh thank god, Kyoya was starving. He bit into the food like a fucking savage, not caring so much for etiquette when he hadn't eaten for at least two days. It wasn't like Tamaki even cared, if anything, he found it amusing.

"Quite peckish weren't you? When was the last time you ate?" He said it in a joking way, not at all serious… but that got Kyoya thinking… he couldn't actually remember eating anything after that small bowl of commoner's ramen- oh god that was a week ago.

"About a week ago." He answered just as casually as the question was asked, taking a few more bites of the toasted sandwich, either it was the starvation talking, or this was a damn good sandwich; the tomato juice was hot and the cheese was lovely and melty and greasy, the ham just added a nice texture, it was nothing like the high class food he was used to, but just like that burger Haruhi had bought him at the mall, it was incredibly satisfying in a strange way.

He glanced up for just a moment, noticing that Tamaki had stopped eating, and was just sitting, staring at him in concern. Kyoya made a small hum, inquiring what the issue was without having to speak, choosing instead to take a bite of his second sandwich. He kept his gaze on Tamaki however, watching the worry on the other boy's expression.

"Kyoya…" Tamaki began, voice, for some reason shaking, "why haven't you been eating..? What's wrong..?"

Kyoya paused, frowning… did Tamaki think there was something wrong with him? He sounded so worried, so scared for him…. He frowned, shrugging it off, "I've simply been busy, you really shouldn't worry about such trivial things." He was aware Tamaki was frowning at him, but forced himself to ignore it, moving his attention back to his food.

Tamaki sighed, Kyoya couldn't see his expression at the moment, but it was safe to assume he wasn't happy. Kyoya didn't want to look him in the eyes, he didn't understand why he felt such immense guilt over this, he'd hurt Tamaki in worse ways soon to come- but this genuinely hurt so much more… Tamaki cared enough to be pained on his behalf.

After they had their lunch, they took to wandering around the shops, commoners were so ingenious when it came to their tiny shops and how much they could hold. Tamaki got excited over every little thing, and Kyoya had to say he was so happy to see him smile, every time the king turned to him with a great big smile, some new trinket in his hands, Kyoya felt a warm, fuzzy feeling inside his chest… he supposed he knew this feeling, though not two years ago it was unknown to him… this was love, in its purest form.

3:01 - Today is wonderful, I ate for the first time since last Friday. Tamaki is so lovely, truly an angel.

It was late in the afternoon when they decided to head back, they got the same limo, deciding they'd head to Tamaki's place. Kyoya was silent the entire ride there, was his plan working? He really didn't know, today had been a bit of an emotional one. He spent most of the ride just watching Tamaki, he was incredibly attractive and in all honesty; Kyoya thought he was the most attractive when he wasn't showing off.

Then they stepped out of the limo onto the driveway, Tamaki frowned, "hey Kyoya? Haruhi hadn't been responding to my texts, any idea why?" Kyoya instantly bristled, ah yes, he'd forgotten that little detail, but if he had any luck, she'd have forgotten about Tamaki in lieu of Arai right now.

"Oh you shouldn't worry about her so much, you know how she gets," he sighs, heading up the path, "she can be awfully cruel with you at times, she probably has her phone switched off. Forget about it for the afternoon, why don't you? You can always talk to her tomorrow." It was a daring thing for Kyoya to say, but Tamaki didn't seem to realise exactly what he'd said.

They were sitting in Tamaki's room, Antoinette was curled up on Tamaki's lap, and Kyoya couldn't help but envy her… god help him, he was jealous of a dog. He sighed, laying down, his head resting on the pillow Tamaki had used just last night, he could even see one of his hairs there, it made him so warm and fuzzy inside just to think about Tamaki sleeping there, so angelically.

"Is there anything you wanna do?" Tamaki broke the silence, smiling over at him, "we could play chess, take Antoinette for a walk, or-"

"Mhm," Kyoya responded, shifting very slightly in the bed, looking over at Tamaki, "forgive me, but I'm a little tired, is that anything less excited you can think of?" He wasn't lying, he felt exhausted, today had been the biggest exertion of energy since before the summer holidays, so he was… well a little unused to getting so much fresh air.

Tamaki paused, tilting his head, "hm? Well I suppose we could watch a movie or two if you want?" Kyoya simply nodded in response, watching as Tamaki had gotten up to look at what movies he owned. Going through the list, Kyoya helped him narrow it down to a shortlist of horrors and Disney movies, maybe one or two romances- he wasn't fond of them, but Kyoya had to admit it would be a great chance to make a move.

They lay under the covers, Tamaki had laid out a ridiculous amount of snacks, insisting Kyoya eat something, but he really didn't mind, he was a little hungry still, maybe. Tamaki had put his arm around Kyoya, removing the need for Kyoya to even make a move. They sat there together watching movie after movie until late into the night, Tamaki had even had the maids bring them dinner in bed. "Anything to make sure my best friend's ok," is what he'd said, and Kyoya ignored the friend part to focus on how much Tamaki cared about him, if Haruhi had been in his position, Tamaki would have called the whole club in to help, but with Kyoya, it was just him- Kyoya was special, whether Tamaki realised it or not: Kyoya was winning

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep6: Gozaburo Kaiba Just Casually Started WWIII And Only This One Guy Cares

Welcome to November, where we celebrate writing a 50,000 word book as if I don’t do that every single time I write about an episode of Yugioh. Hello, this is my season. It’s wordy season. I’m so freakin good at doing this. I can’t say most of what I’ve made is any good, but I CAN say at least I’m prolific. Do enough content to fill that bitter pit and walk right over it, that’s been my motto for the past 5 years.

Anyway, I had an awful flu this past week. (Everyone I live with had it so every bathroom was like ground zero) It was SO bad. I still can’t eat spicy food over a week later (Which is so hard for me because usually I can keep up with my Indian friends, that’s my spicy level--max spicy, please--but since this illness, my white taste genes went into overdrive and I tried putting pepperoncini slices in my sandwich and it set my mouth on fire. Pepperoncini. It’s v embarrassing.)

I did attempt to write this post. Unfortunately I never made it past this cap because I got VERY distracted by the emblem on Alister’s face, and how it isn’t proportionally adjusted to match the angle of his face, and it was like three paragraphs of just wanting to talk about it. And then at some point I got very distracted talking about how many empty glasses I was given at my place setting at this baby shower I went to during the flu epidemic, and it mattered a whole lot to me at the time, but I think, overall, was mostly just some sort of nonsense. The things I’ve spared you. 

(bro has just informed me that the 4 gold-lipped crystal goblets I was given at this baby shower was actually very distressing and a very big deal and that I should absolutely talk to at least someone about it, but maybe he’s just saying that to make me feel better, but I have no idea. I am too sick for sarcasm at this time but my god why was I given so many glasses????)

I straight up have no memory of if I’ve made this joke before. Maybe.

(read more under the cut)

Since it feels like 8 years since the last time I could just eat chicken without feeling like I consumed an entire Thanksgiving meal, a little recap:

-Alister pretended he was Pegasus to lure Kaiba and then, off screen, murdered everyone in Pegasus’ castle

-Pegasus got murdered by I’m pretty sure Mai (which is like...OK then...)

-Yugi and Co went on vacation by driving directly through San Francisco and peeking out the window and saying “yeah that’s enough for me”

-No adults, not even Roland, bothered to come with their kids this time, so the only adult of the entire crew--Pegasus--is dead

-Rex and Weevil are luggage

-The Eye of Sauron showed up and it was the end of the world but Yugi threw a dragon at it so I guess everything is OK now

-Monsters are real but they are hard to animate so we’ll just pretend like they’re causing havoc everywhere although most of the planet seems basically unaffected by this.

-The Grim Reaper is a friendly monster that hangs out in a Japanese park and that feels fairly on brand.

And I think that was all that was happening so far.

In a weird twist of fate, Mokuba is the only one in this room that isn’t trapped which sort of...if you’re the only one NOT kidnapped wouldn’t that also be a type of being kidnapped?

And we finally get to figure out why Alister wants to Murder Kaiba so bad and, spoiler, it reaches.

???

I’m gonna get more to the obvious problems with Alister’s devotion to murdering all the Kaibas in a bit but yes, Alister is in fact going to try and Kill Kaiba on this kid’s show because of Kaiba’s Dad, who is such a horrible and abusive person that Kaiba essentially drove the bastard out of Japan and straight to the bottom of the ocean.

Just kinda feels like Alister has been living under a rock...which, I guess he has been. He has been living in some weird Atlantis structure so I guess he never got the memo that Gozaburo Kaiba is hella dead.

So that’s what they’re up to. How’s Sausalito?

Um.

Huh.

So the North Bay is a really classic scenery. It’s rolling hills. It’s NAPA. It’s like...definitely not Arizona. California has a couple of mesas but they’re no where near here and the Monument Valley style Mesas really only exist in Monument Valley.

And I know it’s because the background artist for Yugioh is all horny for horny rock structures but like...this couldn’t be farther from the Bay Area in the way that it is drawn and it is such a shock after all the work they did last episode to research that Bay Area lore. Once they crossed the Golden Gate they were like “well no one will care about this part” which is true not only of Yugioh but also of real life Californian politics.

Anyway, I have been making a map, but unfortunately my original file will not suffice. time to fix it.

There we go. Now they’re in the right place. Just smack dab in Monument Valley, Arizona, smack dab in the middle of the Navajo Nation and so hypothetically, not even in the United States anymore.

While in the car, Yugi has just been anxious as hell the entire time, and just going “y’all I have a bad feeling I’m uncomfortable I have a bad feeling” while Joey and Tea just patiently stared at him flipping out in the corner. So...kinda like a normal trip with someone who has high anxiety/possessed by a ghost. I  kinda feel like this is every girls trip to Disneyland for me. There’s always one Yugi who’s like “no one said anything about CROWDS.” and you kinda just gotta let them do their thing. Just let them get it out of their system and hide in the bathroom when they need to hide in the bathroom and don’t fight it, they’ll be fine. Just hold their spot in line when they desperately look for a secret place to medicinally vape because there’s too many freakin children at Disneyland.

And it is HILARIOUS that Yugi is able to have this type of premonition but cannot figure out that they have somehow missed San Fransisco and have wandered into a DESERT.

Back in Pegasus’ California (an island that legitimately looks more like California than actual Yugioh California) Alister has decided to go completely off the rails and it happens so fast and without any warning.

the line is actually “This doll used to be my brother’s” which is a very different meaning but both are likely from weird ass Alister and this weird ass show, so I’ll leave the cap like this (although yes, this is what I thought Alister was saying for kind of a while until I recorded it for this blog and was like “oh shoot I heard the line wrong when I had the flu huh.”)

Man, RIP Noah, he would have been excellent this episode.

Honestly seems like just yesterday when Seto and Noah were pitted against eachother by a cyberdemon Dad-head floating in the sky, Mokuba was possessed for some reason and being used as a human shield, Tristan was a robot monkey, and Yugi was just shrugging at Kaiba from across the field like “Kaiba if you don’t play good you die--oh my gods, he died. Well that was bound to happen...again.” Man.

Alister should be their best friend, this is nonsense.

So lets do the math to 7 years before 2002.

I searched Wikipedia for wars during 1995 (they do have a list of 90′s wars) and looked for any that involved heavy use of tanks and their artillery fire (on big swatches of cities like this), inner city western architecture, temperate landscapes, and western clothing that match Alister and Mikey (AKA WWII vibes) and found out:

Nothing fits that description

UNLESS Alister and Mikey are time travelers from a WWII bombing in Europe. This is Yugioh. That could happen. Probably not, but youknow...it’s not too late for Yugioh to bring in time travel.

I mean if you don’t want to get super political in your cartoon just invent a world war I guess? We’ve already clarified that Gozaburo was Big Boss, so at this point I can easily see him inventing wars just to sell ships.

(I could probably add thousands of more deaths at this point but I have no idea where they are, if they’re on a tiny island or an entire country so I’ll just...leave the count alone but just now it’s implied that a hell ton of people died during this episode)

People going off about how Sesame Street is so amazing for talking about issues like you’re Dad going to prison while Yugioh was straight up talking about the intricacy of the War Economy. Yugioh being all “don’t forget kids, your good capitalist economy survives off of the undeserved bloodshed of civilians in other countries! Eat the poor!” and it’s like hot damn this heavy commentary came out of freakin no where.

Anyways, this is stuff most kid’s shows will delicately skip over but nah, Yugioh is going to go here, and they are going to steamroll directly through it with massive tanks.

So, lets kill this kid’s entire family and talk about the terrors of the World War of 1995 and all the war orphans who get recruited to become soldiers at the ripe old age of 9. Alister was 9 when he was recruited to be a child card soldier.

This kid’s show.

Alister is...basically Raiden, right? Like as long as we’re talking about Metal Gear, this kid is just one step away from cyborg implants and weird colored blood?

Better wear bright red when you visit the war crime scene, surprised Gozaburo didn’t invite like an entire photo -op crew to incriminate him even further.

Now we did look up “where the hell is Alister from Yugioh from?” (there is no answer) and we did find out a little factoid. In the Japanese version of the show, Gozaburo had bought the land and was just forcibly evicting Alister and his family from their home with tanks.

Which is wild.

He just straight up evicted an entire metropolitan city????

Like the dub did a way better job than the sub at this one, I’ll give them that.

It’s just so weird that Gozoboro just didn’t like...raise the rent like a normal bad landlord. Instead he was like “rather than gentrify my land and save me a ton of money, I’ll just destroy everything I just bought and murder everyone here” which is like...

...Seto did the world so many favors when he kicked out his Dad, right? Like Damn. I don't understand why Alister isn’t freakin worshiping Seto right now when his whole deal is “I must kill Gozaburo” and Seto’s like “yo I already did that. Twice. I didn’t even have to literally kill him either, I just embarrassed him so bad that he killed himself. His stupid tank company sells joke games now. I literally turned the man into a joke.”

Then again, Alister is on the green magic and like I think it alters your brain chemistry somewhat.

(How ripped did Alister get in this episode, by the way? The kid is like 16 years old or something so how did this happen? ...The perpetual horny line running straight through Yugioh, man. Look at it run. That 16 year old is drawn like he’s 28 and really into Crossfit and his crop top gets smaller and smaller like every scene.)

So like this is a very gray issue that I cannot believe they brought up in a kid’s show (like can you imagine if Scrooge McDuck had to face facts that his company murdered tons of people???), but also this is Seto Kaiba. Seto grew up in the system, so like he doesn’t need to be lectured to about dirty money because he was on the losing end of that not too long ago. Seto is himself basically a upscale war orphan since he was adopted by Gozaburo to continue the machine like a freakin maniac (a Solidus Snake, if you will) so of all the people on this show I don’t get why Seto would care about this. This is just how Seto views the entire world as either losing or winning and no reason to feel bad about it because he’s been both.

Also...Seto stopped the machine. Kind of. He was unaware that cards were the same thing as weapons, but at least he stopped the sale of huge child-stealing tanks.

So they play the game for a little while and Seto does kind of poorly as usual, and just when I thought this episode couldn’t get any weirder...

And just like that, Seto peaces out. Like he does almost every single time he has ever played a card game solo except for that one time he was playing Joey Wheeler. (Which was also one of the few times Seto ever won.)

Like I just want to remind you that this segment is in the same episode as WWIII and the tonal whiplash is pretty remarkable.

That’s right, we’re back in the Unnamed Monster World, which is not the Shadow Realm, and which I thought you could only access if you were dreaming and able to search through the puzzle maze.

Apparently this can just happen at any time and all that stuff with the guiding Kuriboh and Yugi and Pharaoh trying to find this place was just...them wasting time.

Again he ditches the legendary sword so freakin fast because who needs a sword when you have a dragon? Only this anime.

And that’s how Seto, who was absolutely going to lose this game, somehow just barely came to a draw.

So just to recap, Seto has yet to win a card game that he didn’t get prophetic help for via a hallucination or Yugi telling him what to do. Unless you count Joey and grandpa.

Then, the one last adult I forgot about, the driver of Yugi’s car, decides that it’s about time that he also died and left this show as adult free as possible.

THE HELL ARE THEY?

Also...maybe it’s the angle but the writing on that gas station looks a lot like kanji.

Yo, what if this is the backgrounds for a different show and they’re just sharing? I mean I doubt it because Yugioh had a good enough budget but...what if? What if that’s why they’re in Arizona?

Anyway, next time we’ll find out if this guy just drops dead or has been a Yugioh monster this whole time, and I think maybe both?

And if you just got here, this is a link to read all my Yugioh recaps in chrono order

[thegizka]

Swift as Wind, Soft as Shadow

Chapter 6:  Complicate

It’s been a few months since Shikamaru and Temari have heard from each other.  Ino and Chouji think it’s time something is done about that.

Written for Writer’s Month Day 13:  Feelings.

Note:  I do not own any aspect of Naruto.

Read it on Ao3.

“Have you heard from Temari?  When’s she stopping by next?” Ino asked while they were taking a break from training.

“How should I know?  Go ask the Hokage’s office,” Shikamaru grumbled.  She rolled her eyes and stretched out her back.

“You’re usually the one who tells the Hokage’s office when we can expect her.”

“Only because I coincidentally open her letters in the correspondence office, along with a quarter of the deliveries from the other villages and some mission reports.”

“I thought you two were always writing each other,” Chouji hummed, taking a gulp of water.

“Only if the Leaf has business with the Sand.  Otherwise no, I don’t write to her socially.  What would be the point?”  Not that he hadn’t entertained the idea.  It had been a few months since they’d seen each other, and while it wasn’t the longest they’d been out of contact, it had felt strange.  At some unforeseen moment they’d crossed the threshold from formality to familiarity, and he’d catch himself wondering how she was and what she was doing.

“You’re friends, right?” Ino pressed.  Shikamaru had caught himself asking that a few times, too.  They couldn’t really be just coworkers at this point, but he also wouldn’t categorize her with Ino and Chouji and Naruto.  Temari was something different and undefined.  Until he could articulate what, though, “friend” would have to do.

“I guess,” he said, shrugging.

“Then invite her over.”

“Why?”

“She promised to help me with my hand-to-hand combat.”

“So what do you call what we’re doing?” Chouji demanded somewhere between offended and amused.

“Inoshikacho training isn’t the same.  What if we’re separated on the battlefield?  I need to up my combat game.”

“And you can’t find someone in the village to help you with that?”  Shikamaru asked.

“Everyone’s either busy, lazy, or would utterly crush me in a second.”  She crossed her arms and looked at them like this fact should be obvious.

“And you think Temari’s a better option?” he chuckled.  “Have you forgotten what she did to Tenten during the first chunin exam?  I’ve seen her when she’s teaching.  She’s just as ruthless.  You’d get torn apart.”

“Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence.  Glad to know I can always count on your support.”

“I think you’d be fine, Ino,” Chouji declared.

“Thank you.  I’m glad someone believes in me.”

“If it were anyone else, my money would be on you,” Shikamaru promised.  He knew he shouldn’t feel proud that Temari would win against Ino--after all, that was admitting a shinobi from another village would beat one of his best friends--but it was the truth.  (But why was he siding with Temari?)

“It’s not a fight; it’s training.  I might as well learn from the best, right?”

“Then you invite her.”

“But you’re her friend.  It would be weird if I suddenly ask her over to train.  I don’t know her as well as you do.”

“And me asking her to come to the Leaf just to help you train wouldn’t be weird?”

“No, because it wouldn’t just be to train me.  You two would hang out and do whatever else you do when you’re together.”

“We work.  Ours is a working relationship.  I’ve never asked her to the Leaf unless it was for work.  I can’t ask her to take time away from her duties in the Sand to come and hang out.”

“Why not?” Chouji asked.  “I mean, you said you were friends.  Friends take time off to hang out all of the time.”

He smiled because Chouji would drop anything in a second if a friend needed him.  But Chouji was one in a million.  Shikamaru and Temari were cut from the same cloth.  Their sense of propriety and duty was strong.  He wouldn’t leave the village for an unnecessary trip, not with all of this Akatsuki business and Kurenai’s pregnancy.

Unless, he realized, Temari asked him to.  Lately his missions to Suna had felt more like excuses to go see her.  He hadn’t really noticed how attentive he was to business in the Land of Wind, but he knew almost every assignment and message that passed between their countries.  What did that mean?  Why was he so interested in their alliance?  Why did he no longer mind making the trip to the Sand?

If he asked Temari, would she feel the same?

“Besides,” Chouji continued, unaware of his friend’s inner questions, “if she comes for a visit, I can ask her more about that spicy soup she was telling me about last time.”

“Wow, and here I thought you were just being your usual friendly self.  You’re no better than Ino,” he teased.

“I am being friendly!” he pouted.  “Food is a common interest.  It’s the best way to a person’s heart.”

“Your heart, maybe.”  He poked his pleasantly plump friend with his elbow.

“So are you going to invite her over or not?” Ino prompted.

Shikamaru thought it a little strange that his teammates were so eager to see Temari again.  They seemed genuinely interested in her.  They’d only interacted a handful of times.  Had the other two managed to become friends with the Sand kunoichi in such a short time?  And if they were already friends, then what were she and Shikamaru since they’d spent so much more time together?

Had they breached the realm of good friends?  He thought back to her crying against his shoulder, or the evening they’d spent on the roof after Asuma’s death.  When had they waded into the deeper emotional levels of this relationship?  He couldn’t ignore that he didn’t feel the same way about her as he did Chouji and Ino and Naruto.  Did that mean she wasn’t yet at the level of a close friend?  Or was she something else entirely?

These feelings were so confusing.  Trying to figure them out was a huge drag!

But he couldn’t deny that Temari had a great talent for helping him clarify things.  She wasn’t afraid to ask challenging questions.  It was annoying, but it also saved him a lot of time ignoring or avoiding problems.  Often she could quiet his confusion.  He could use that clarity now.  He maybe even craved it.

“I’ll see if she’s not busy,” Shikamaru sighed, giving in.  It didn’t mean anything.  He would just be inviting a friend over for a visit.  So why did he feel so nervous?

-----

“Have you heard from Temari lately?  It’s been a while.”

Shikamaru groaned, letting his pen fall to the table next to a few discarded pages of scribbles.

“What, did Ino talk to you or something?”

“Hm?”  Yoshino looked up from the book she was reading.  “No.  Why, did she say the same thing?”

“Yeah, when we were training earlier.  Both she and Chouji insisted I invite her to come visit.”

She blinked at him, then grinned.

“I guess that means you’ll have to ask her over.”

“I guess.  It’s going to be a real drag, though.”

“Hey!  Temari is lovely company!”

“That’s not what I meant!  It’s the paperwork and the optics.”

“What paperwork?  This is just a social visit, right?”

“Well yeah, but she’s still the Sand’s representative.  There’s lodging and security to figure out.”

“Nonsense.”  Yoshino waved her hand dismissively.  “She’ll stay here with us, and you’ll be her host and responsible for her safety.  It’s simple.  Plus she’s a very capable kunoichi and can take care of herself.”

“I think you’re oversimplifying things, Mom.”

“I think you’re overcomplicating them.”

“You think the village leaders would allow an official representative from the Sand to stay with the Hokage’s advisor?  Wouldn’t that seem a bit suspicious?”

“They’d allow a friend to stay with a friend.”

“You can’t just ignore her and dad’s political positions.”

“And why not?” she demanded.  “When you look at Temari, do you see the official ambassador to the Leaf?  Or do you see a beautiful and dangerous peer who you enjoy spending time with socially?”

That sounded like a trap.  She’d used the word “beautiful”.  While it was true about Temari, women were funny about whether a guy admitted it or not.  He screwed up his mouth in a frown.  Yoshino just laughed.

“Invite her to spend a few days with us, or I will, and I’ll make sure she knows you were too cowardly to do it yourself.”

“I’m doing it!  Calm down,” he grumbled, pulling a new piece of paper towards himself.  Even though he was having difficulty figuring out exactly what to say--he didn’t want to be too formal but sounding too eager would be equally awkward--he knew whatever his mom would write would be infinitely more embarrassing.

-----

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you invited me over.”

“Well if I had known I wouldn’t have a home to invite you to, I would’ve told you not to bother with the trip.”

“Good to know.  I’ll keep that in mind when I rate your hospitality.”

Temari was keeping her tone light and joking, but she had been shocked and worried to arrive in the Leaf and find it missing.  All but the furthest properties were replaced by a giant crater of rock and rubble.  The initial panic was tempered somewhat when she noticed crowds of people moving amongst the destruction, but she couldn’t shake the inner terror making her blood freeze in her veins.  She needed more information.  She needed to know he was okay.

Luckily she’d run into Ino at what used to be the village perimeter where she’d been reassured that despite the terrible state of the land, everyone had miraculously survived.  That should have been enough to calm the rest of her worry, but it wasn’t until she saw Shikamaru that she actually relaxed enough to process everything.

After the initial shock, she was somewhat disturbed by her reaction.  Since when had he become so closely tied to her feelings?  He could affect them, sure, but Temari had never anticipated he could be the source of them.  What business did he have making her feel things without her permission?

She’d let him recount everything Ino had already told her and fill in the details.  Shikamaru anticipated her questions (when had he learned to do that?) and seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear.  It was soothing but unnerving.  Even with her brothers, she rarely had conversations as easy as this.

“So,” she said in a low voice, “the Akatsuki.”

“Yeah.”  Shikamaru sighed and leaned back against a slab of concrete that used to be the foundation of his home.  The damage stopped about an acre in front of them, mowing down the first rows of forest trees.  He’d been amused when she’d asked about the deer and reassured her that the herd had been far enough away to emerge from the ordeal unscathed.

Temari understood what had happened, but she was having difficulty really understanding that one person--or six people?--had done this.  The Akatsuki were stronger than they had suspected.  They were more dangerous than they’d thought.

“That’s two villages that they’ve attacked openly.  They’re getting bold,” she observed.

“They’re escalating, which means they must be running out of time.”

“For what?” Temari demanded, but she knew neither of them could properly answer that question.  It was something they’d both been trying to work out for months.

“Whatever it is, they need the Tailed Beasts.”

“Which means they need the jinchuriki, including Naruto,” she finished.  Naruto, who had somehow saved Gaara and somehow saved everyone in the Leaf and somehow always saved the day.  Would anyone be able to save him if he needed it?

She watched Shikamaru’s face as its features stilled, his brows pulled down slightly in serious thought.  His hands drifted together in his lap, and his fingertips touched in a slightly relaxed iteration of the thinking position she remembered so clearly from their first chunin exam and countless times thereafter.  He had learned to think on his feet, but in moments of deep contemplation like now, his old habit would creep out.  She wondered if he knew.

She wondered if he could sense how much she trusted him, so utterly and completely that it scared her because she trusted almost nobody like this, not even herself.  She knew unerringly that whatever problem his mind was unravelling, he would solve it given enough time and confidence.  She loved to watch, to imagine what constellations he was drawing between the facts, to try and trace the twists and turns of his mind so that they’d meet up at the same conclusion.

When she was frustrated with some problem in the Sand that she couldn’t solve, she’d wonder how Shikamaru would look at it differently.  She hated how often it happened and was ashamed that she felt pulled toward him and the Leaf when she was so proud to be a Sand shinobi and support all that Gaara was doing.  But she couldn’t deny that she felt something akin to loyalty for this man thinking beside her.  It had been growing over the past few years, and she feared that it might some day conflict with her other duties.

Temari shied away from thinking about that future.  There were more pressing matters right now.  Her brothers needed to know what had happened, and the other villages ought to be notified, too.  She didn’t know how many Tailed Beasts were still out there, but the Akatsuki threat had become too big for anyone to ignore.  They couldn’t all depend on Naruto to save the day.

“I should get back to my village,” she murmured.

“Listen, I know our facilities aren’t the greatest right now, but you’re still welcome to stay the night.”  He was smiling wryly, but she glimpsed something like regret in his dark eyes.  She wanted to say yes, to waste what was left of the day with him because she hadn’t admitted to herself how much she’d been looking forward to this visit until she’d arrived and feared the worst, but she forced herself to shake her head and stand.

“Whatever comes after this is going to be big, and we need to be ready for it.  I have a feeling time isn’t a luxury right now.”

He nodded, understanding, and a little part of her was disappointed he didn’t insist she stay the night.  Instead he led her back through the destroyed village.  They walked past people who were tired and sad digging through the rubble of their homes and memories.  But they were also strong and determined to rebuild.  It made her think of Shikamaru and the Will of Fire, and that was comforting even though it was confusing.

“Next time, things will be more in order around here, assuming no other earth-shattering events occur.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They looked at each other for a long moment.  Temari got the sense that he was trying to memorize her, afraid that this would be the last time they saw each other despite their optimistic promise.  She studied him, too:  the arch of his eyebrows, the slant of his eyes, the angle of his nose, the line of his lips, the sculpt of his chin.  She wanted to reach out and touch him, to study him with her fingers to add tactile memory to his visual profile, but instead she merely said, “Be safe.”

“You too,” he replied, and her ears pretended they’d heard his low voice catch a little in his throat.  But when neither of them made any further movement, Temari turned away along the path she had taken just that morning, carrying her hopes with her.

[queen-scribbles]

Just Passing Time

For @pillarspromptsweekly Fill 52. It’s another Roll For It! Deadfire edition. I picked Rekke on purpose bc I’ve been dying to write him, but I rolled for the other elements and got Port Maje and hobbies/downtime. Not hiding the whole thing bc there’s no real spoilers.

Adela had to admit a small spike of relief when Port Maje appeared on the horizon. The Vailian outpost wasn’t their final destination, but a freak storm a day or so back had cost them a good chunk of their water supply. Currently they were fine, but just the knowledge they would need to ration made her feel the need to resupply more keenly than she normally might.

It didn’t help that the storm had hit not long after she’d taken Kuldrun’s suggestion to make an offering to Ondra, which had the already-superstitious man even more on edge. She’d feel much better when they could make port to restock, especially on water. And much as she enjoyed sailing, solid ground under her feet would be nice.

However, the gods’ sense of humor put an end to that hope even before she got a chance to enjoy it. As always when they docked, the whole crew drew lots to determine who stayed to watch the ship and who was responsible for purchasing supplies, the rest free to do as they wished. Adela drew the first of the ship-watching lots, followed quickly by Rekke and Irrena.

“I’ll stay instead, if it’s alright with Adi,” Xoti volunteered immediately when the latter swore softly in disappointment. “Pretty sure Waenglith is still here, an’ I ain’t got any burnin’ desire to see her again.”

Adela shrugged and nodded. “Fine by me.” Everyone taking turns was fair, but she didn’t mind a little trading. Especially if it helped morale.

“Thanks, casita,” Irrena grinned.

The lots for supply buying were drawn(Edér, Aloth, and Tuliak, which Adela couldn’t help thinking was vaguely reminiscent of the start of a joke), and everyone went about their business, either on ship or off. Resigned to her role, Adela settled in with a book. If she had to stay on the ship, at least she could take advantage of being docked to read up on deck, where the light was better. This particular volume was a fascinating take on the War of Defiance, and she had devoured the remainder of it almost before she realized.

Well, darn, she thought glumly, closing the book and drumming her fingers against the cover as she contemplated how to occupy the rest of her time.

“It is a good book?” Rekke asked as he sat next to her, brushing hair back out of his face.

“Ta,” Adela replied, without really thinking about it. “So good that I read it too fast, and now I don’t know what to do until everyone else gets back.”

Rekke grinned. “You can talk to me.”

She laughed. “Yes, I can. You’re very fun to talk to.”

His grin spread even wider and he winked at her. “Careful, you will make me blush. What do you want to talk about?”

Adela pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Would you tell me more about Yezuha? Or will that make you homesick again?”

Rekke shrugged, cracking his knuckles. “Perhaps a little, ta. But I like that you ask.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, wincing briefly as they snagged on a knot. “There are many things to share about Yezuha. What would you know first?”

“Um...” She hesitated briefly. “Food. What’s the food like? What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

He mulled it over for a moment before meeting her gaze with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Good.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a friendly shove. “I figured that. What kinds. Meat, bread, vegetables and fruit, sweets.... Make my mouth water.”

“Alright, if that is your wish. We have all those you mentioned, many kinds, though the fruit and vegetables we usually cook, ta? To make sure there are no bugs. They eat from the inside to stay out of the heat. As for my favorite...” He paused, tapping a freckled knuckle against his chin. “Ah. It is a dish my sister makes very well. You take meat--any meat,” he clarified, as if sensing what she was about to ask, “about two fingers wide that is managa, um,” he snapped his fingers rapidly, looking for the word. “Curried, ta?”

“Sounds right,” Adela nodded. He’d been teaching her Seki, but she still struggled with less common words sometimes.

“So, curried meat strips with bread, but thin and hard. Though better than hardtack.” Rekke wrinkled his nose. “And there is dipping sauce for the meat and bread. You can make it savory or spicy or whatever you wish.” He grinned. “I like it spicy.”

Adela laughed, playing with her braid. “Given that fire kelp didn’t faze you, I had a suspicion. Is your favorite dessert spicy, too?”

His grin turned slightly sheepish as he nodded. “It is. Chocolate with fine-ground peppers mixed in” --he swirled one hand in a stirring motion-- “before it cools.”

“Sounds delicious,” she agreed. Her mouth was watering more than a little thinking about it. “I like spicy things, too.” A strong breeze sprang up, ruffling Adela’s hair and blowing Rekke’s back in his face. She watched him brush it away again--or try to, his fingers snagging on more knots. “You want me to help with that?”

Rekke raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “Help? Brush my hair?”

“Ta,” she nodded. “I have several younger siblings, I’m very good at being gentle to get out tangles.”

He considered for a moment, then grinned as he nodded. “Ta, that would be nice. Can you do little braids, like Xoti?”

Adela couldn’t hold back a giggle as she got to her feet. “Sure.” Before she could head off in search of a comb, Rekke pulled one out of a belt pouch.

“Konstanten gave it to me,” he explained as he handed it over. His eyes flashed with mischief. “I think to apologize for the fire kelp.”

“Nice of him,” she said. The comb was well made, sturdy with strong teeth, and she was pretty sure it had been Konstanten’s before being given to someone who needed it more, rather than a fresh-purchased gift. She ran her fingers carefully through Rekke’s hair, checking the thick copper waves for any of the little braids Xoti liked to do. There weren’t any to worry about this time, so she gathered his hair back over his shoulders and began.

“What about you?” Rekke asked, wincing slightly as the comb found its first knot.

“What about me, what?” Adela paused a moment to size up the knot, then set about gingerly picking it out.

“What are your favorite foods where you come from?” he clarified, lacing his fingers together in his lap to keep them still. 

“Oh. Spiced pears,” she answered without hesitation. “Which aren’t what you’d think from the name. I mean, it is pears, but they’re not spicy. You cook them in a covered dish with things like cinnamon and nutmeg, nice and slow. When they’re done they’re so soft and sweet,” she sighed happily, “It’s like eating pure joy.”

Rekke chuckled wryly, shoulders hitching as the comb found the worst of this particular knot. “You are making me want to try these pears.”

Adela grinned, even though he couldn’t see her. “Well, when we’re done cleaning up this Eothas mess, maybe we can find someone around here who makes Ixamitl spiced pears. Though I’m pretty sure none of ‘em are as good as my mother and brother can make them.”

Rekke nodded happily, almost pulling his hair out of her hands. “Yuki. I would like that. And then maybe you visit Yezuha and have some of the chocolate I like, ta?”

“I’d like that very much,” she agreed. The knot finally yielded to her careful efforts and she took a moment to smirk in satisfaction before moving on to the next section. “Y’know, if you tied your hair back while we’re at sea, like Aloth does, it wouldn’t get so tangled. Didn’t you tell me Lipasalis has wind storms a lot? Isn’t it a pain to leave it down in weather like that?”

“Yes, but I like it loose,” he replied with a shrug and a smile. “I do not mind so much needing to comb it out.”

“Especially when me and Xoti’ll offer to do it for you?” Adela laughed.

Rekke nodded, still smiling. “Ta.”

“Did I hear my name?” Xoti asked as she emerged from belowdecks. She laughed when when she saw what they were doing. “Aw, Hel, Adi, you beat me to it.”

Adela chuckled. “Sorry. Want to do mine instead?” She flipped her braid back over her shoulder and tugged off her bandanna with one hand.

“I was just jokin’, but sure.” Xoti was grinning as she settled herself cross-legged on the deck behind Adela. “How bad is it this time?” she asked, with a nod toward Rekke’s hair.

“Could be worse,” Adela shrgged. “I’ve found four or five tangles so far, but only one of ‘em was really bad.”

“She is very good,” Rekke piped up. “I asked her for little braids, like you do.”

“I’m sure she’ll make you look right handsome,” Xoti said as she worked Adela’s hair free of its braid. “Maybe I’ll give her a couple to go with ‘em.”

“I like the sound of that,” Adela said cheerfully. “I haven’t done anything fancy in a long while.” The last knot finally succumbed to her ministrations, and she ran the comb through Rekke’s hair one more time before handing it back. “There you go. Time for braids.”

“You are gentle,” he said, tone mildly awed.

“Told you, younger siblings, lots of practice,” she laughed. “I used to do all sorts of things to Tia’s hair, when she’d hold still, at least.” She separated out a thin section of coppery hair and started braiding. “I’m pretty rusty on most stuff now, but I think I can manage braids.”

“I sure hope so, considerin’ it’s all you wear,” Xoti giggled from behind her, followed by the tsk of a clucked tongue. “Oh, darn, I ain’t got anymore of Ishi’s feathers...”

“Oooh, here.” Adela dug in her pocket and came up with a handful of colorful beads. She dropped half in Xoti’s hand and kept the rest for Rekke’s hair. “It’s not feathers, but it’ll still be pretty.”

“Darn right it will,” Xoti said emphatically as she curled her hand around the beads. “These’ll look right nice on you, Adi.” She leaned to the side to look around the Watcher. “And on you, Rekke.”

The three of them shared a laugh as she and Adela got to work.

-o-   -o-   -o-

They were just finishing up when the shore party returned. Rekke’s hair was still loose, but with spots of color peeking out from the copper waves, and Adela was just tying off her signature braid, now decorated with two smaller, blue- and green-dotted plaits.

“Looks like you three had fun,” Edér commented with a grin, leaning back against the railing.

Adela matched his grin as she nodded. “We sure did.” As everyone else trickled back, she made a mental note to remember about that chocolate Rekke had mentioned.

She definitely wanted to try that.

[rawrkittenpurr]

Personal Trainer AU - Jack Maynard Imagine

Word count: 4068

Rating: Explicit (really, truly explicit. mostly pwp smut. please don’t read if you are underage and/or unconfortable with that)

Warnings: none

Summary: Jack is substituting for your regular PT. Sex ensues.

„Hi, my name is Y/N and I have a session booked in with Louisa at six”, you said to the girl at the reception, handing over your gym membership card.

„Oh, I’m so sorry, Louisa had to call in sick today. Someone should’ve called you, but they must have forgotten. I’m terribly sorry, it’s been a bit of a rush here today, with two of our trainers feeling poorly… But I’m sure we can find someone to cover your session, or you could go in and train on your own? Of course we will refund you the price of the training!” the girl said apologetically.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it. I’m sure all your trainers are equally good, I don’t mind if someone else takes over, truly. But please do find someone for me, because left to my own devices I know I will just spend 20 minutes on the elliptical watching Brooklyn 99 and call it a day”, you smiled at the girl. It was Friday night, you had a busy week of work behind you and you were not feeling very motivated as of that moment. You came to the gym straight from the office, because you knew from experience that if you’d had to go home to get your stuff, you would’ve just slumped down on the couch and probably not moved until midnight.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do for you. You can go ahead and get changed, and someone will be waiting for you when you’re done”, the receptionist said, handing you a lock and key for the lockers as well as a towel, “and thank you for being so understanding!”

You quickly changed into your workout gear – black leggings, a black sports bra and a flowy purple workout top with an open back –, pulled your hair into a ponytail so it wouldn’t bother you, grabbed your water bottle and the towel and headed out of the changing room. You were greeted by a blonde guy about your age, with really pretty blue eyes. He was attractive. This was going to be interesting.

“Hey, you must be Y/N. I’m Jack, and I’ll be kicking your arse today.”

“And I bet you’re going to enjoy that, won’t you”, you said to test the waters.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you enjoy it too, don’t you worry”, he replied, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. This was indeed going to be interesting all right.

“So I thought we could start with some warm-up, and in the meantime you can tell me about what you’ve been doing with Louisa, what your goals are, so that I can get a better picture of what you’re looking for, does that sound ok to you?”, Jack asked once you’ve walked over to the training area.

“Sure. I’ve been training with Louisa for about two months now I think. I don’t really have a specific goal in mind, I just kinda want to be the fittest version of myself if that makes sense?” you started to explain while Jack was directing you to do some jumps to get your heartrate up. “I used to always say to myself I’ll do it one day, like I’ll do it for my wedding or something, but then one day something in my brain just clicked and I thought why wait, why not do it now?” “So, no wedding coming up then?” Jack intercepted.

“Oh no, definitely single AF”, you laughed, “but it’s chill. I mean, I have everything I need”, you said, first of all to clarify that you were not desperate and second, because it was true. You were really not looking for a relationship and were perfectly happy with the arrangements you had going on when it came to sex. “Anyway”, you continued, progressively getting more out of breath, “don’t get me wrong, I still hate all of this. But then I see the results and I’m like yeah, it’s worth it.”

“I can see that”, Jack said, and you were pretty sure he was checking you out.

 Jack was not kidding when he said he would kick your ass. He gave you a very intense workout that pushed you to your limits, but you actually enjoyed it. You preferred working hard over half-assing your workouts; it gave you the satisfaction of knowing you did your best. You also had the feeling he had you do more squats than strictly necessary just so he could check your butt out, but you couldn’t say you minded that either.

“So, it’s Friday, you got any plans tonight?” Jack asked you as you were finishing up your stretching.

“I was actually planning on watching Netflix on my couch, but after this workout I feel strangely energised, so I might need to change those plans”, you admitted.

“Me and a few mates are actually going clubbing later, you can join us if you like. It’ll be around midnight though probably, so I don’t know if you’ll still be awake…”

This went easier than you thought. It wasn’t suave or smart, you could tell Jack was the sort of guy to rely on his looks and charm rather than his wit to woo over the ladies. But in all fairness, he was hot and he did ask you out and he was being quite direct about it, which you appreciated.

“I’m not actually a grandma, I’ll have you know. Midnight sounds good, text me where?” you held out your hand for his phone.

 Once you got home, you popped into the shower, washed your hair, moisturised thoroughly with a lotion that made your skin look glowing and smelled deliciously like a tropical cocktail on a beach, poured yourself a big glass of wine, then decided to potter around naked for the next few hours. At around 11, your phone buzzed with a text from Jack.

“Hey Y/N

You still up?”

At this point, you were about 3 glasses of wine in, and still naked, but at least you had successfully finished putting on your makeup.

“Yeah I’m good, just getting ready. Wby?” you texted back.

“Pre-gaming at Joe’s. Gonna get going soon though”

You wrapped yourself in your previously discarded towel, grabbed your wine glass and took a selfie. “Cheers!” you typed, sending the pic to Jack. His reply was a string of emojis, including the fire and the dancing girl one. He also sent you the name of the club and told you to meet them up front in half an hour.

It was time to get dressed. You decided on a set consisting of a high-waisted, tight midi skirt and a crop top. The outfit hugged your curves and showed off a bit of your tummy. Essentially, it put your whole body on display while still making you look relatively dressed up. You debated for a while if Jack was worth wearing heels for, but ultimately decided in favour of them. Then you grabbed your bag and headed down to your Uber.

The club Jack told you to meet them at was of the posh but tacky variety, trying really hard to look like it was in Vegas or something, with secluded ‘VIP areas’ with white leather couches and low, mirrored coffee tables. It was the sort of club mostly frequented by girls in their late teens and men of all ages trying to hit on them. You didn’t much mind the club though, because the music was good, a mixture of hip-hop and R’n’B, easy to dance to and in your opinion much nicer than the monotonous, electronic stuff. There was a little bit of a line forming out front, you hoped that the club would be decently full but not jam-packed. Getting out of the car, you spotted Jack standing a little bit off to the side with a small group of people, and walked over.

“Damn, Y/N”, Jack exclaimed, checking you out from head to toe as you were approaching him, “you looked fine this afternoon, but this is on a whole new level!” He pulled you in and kissed you on the cheek. He smelled really nice, cool and clean and fresh, but with an undercurrent of something spicy.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, I must say”, you licked your lips. Jack was wearing a dark blue and red, tropical patterned silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few of the top buttons unbuttoned, tight, ripped black jeans and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and wavy and somehow looked both softer and blonder than in the gym. You had the urge to run your hand through it, although you were quite sure it was probably less soft and way more stiff with product than it looked. Also that he wouldn’t appreciate you messing it up. Also that you would totally still do that later.

He waved you over and quickly introduced you to the bunch of people he was with: Joe, Conor, Mikey, Caspar, as well as a few girls whose name you didn’t bother to remember.

“It really isn’t fair”, you heard Joe complain to no one in particular, “Jack pulling these girls who are out of his league all the time.” Jack replied with a grin, saying how it was one of the perks that came with his job. You were not sure if this whole exchange was intended to be much more subtle or if Jack just didn’t care if his dates knew he was a bit of a player, but it was okay. You weren’t looking for anything serious either.

“Come on, Y/N”, Jack motioned you over and put his arm around your waist, skipping the line and guiding you directly towards the door, “this way.”

“Are you famous or something?” you teased as you realized you were entering directly through the previously described VIP lounge.

“I got connections”, he smiled, wiggling his brows at you.

Once inside, you each took a shot of vodka from the chilled bottle of Grey Goose that seemed to have materialised on the table in front of you as soon as the group walked in. A few of the guys took some pics and videos for their Snapchats and Insta stories that some of the girls with you tried really hard to be included in, while others were basically hiding. This was weird, but it was none of your business. A few minutes passed, and you were happily singing along to the songs the DJ was playing, dancing around a little on the spot. You really just wanted to get out on the dancefloor, so you took Jack’s hand and pulled him with you as the tunes of the new Jason Derulo song started blasting from the speakers. You were a decent dancer – definitely not able to come up with imaginative freestyle choreographies on the spot, and you were never quite sure what to do with your hands; but you were pretty good at copying other people’s moves and really good at twerking. What surprised you more was that while most boys tended to just hop from one leg to the other and stay in the background, Jack could actually keep up with you, pulling you closer and giving you space at the right moments while also showing off his moves.

“That was hot”, you exclaimed as the song ended. In return, Jack pulled you in close, grabbed your butt and kissed you hard on the mouth. It was a nice kiss, more lips than tongue, soft and wet and warm, inviting and exploring rather than aggressive and pushy. You had one hand on the small of his back, just above the waistband of his jeans, the other around his neck. You flexed your fingers and scraped your nails slightly against the back of his head, which he seemed to like, as he responded by squeezing you even closer to him, both of his hands on your backside still. Jack licked along your lips and you opened them slightly. Suddenly, he bit down against your lower lip and you pulled in a sharp breath, digging your nails into his skin. Opening your eyes and taking a step back, you broke the kiss and started dancing again. Turning you around, he drew you close to him again so that your back was against him, kissed the spot between your neck and shoulder softly and started to move against you, following the music.

The two of you spent the next hour or so dancing, grinding and making out on the dancefloor, only heading back to your booth twice for a bit of rest, drinks and a few words of shouted conversation over the music. As the night progressed, more of the buttons on Jack’s shirt became undone and you could now see quite a bit of his tanned chest. You have teased each other so long, both of you were completely turned on. You had butterflies in your tummy, a big smile plastered on your face and a pleasant, tingling sensation all over your body, as if your skin was electrified. You were also quite sure you could feel his hardness pushing against your thigh as you pressed into him while dancing. You lowered one hand and traced the outline of his bulge, palming him through his jeans. So far, you had no complaints.

“You wanna get out of here?” you heard Jack shout.

You nodded. “Back to mine? No flatmates, and it’s close to here. I’ll go to the loo and call an Uber, meet me at the booth in 10?”

When you got back to the VIP section, you found only Caspar and two girls at your table. Nevertheless, you said your goodbyes and made your way to the car already waiting for you outside. Thankfully, your flat was indeed close by and in the sparse night-time traffic it only took you about 10 minutes to get there. Which was for the best, because you two had a really hard time keeping your behaviour in the backseat decent. Your skirt, which normally reached to your knees, was pushed up to mid-thigh level, and Jack was stroking along the inside of your leg. Your hands found their way under his shirt, tracing out the hard edges of his body. You were kissing each other differently now, longer, passionately and with more intent, sucking and biting. By the time the car pulled up in front of your house, you were burning with anticipation. Although you usually didn’t tend to, you tipped the driver and made sure to give him 5 stars, he definitely deserved it.

Once you got up to your flat, you kicked off your heels and motioned to the left.

“Bedroom’s that way, bathroom too. Go on, I’ll be there in a minute. And wash your hands, will ya?”

While Jack took off towards your bedroom, you went to the kitchen, washed your hands and filled up two large glasses with cold water, then you followed him into your bedroom. Jack was lying back against the headboard of your bed, still completely dressed but with his shirt now completely open and hanging off his shoulders. He looked incredible, eyeing you expectantly. You handed him one of the waters and drank most of yours, setting the glass down on your dresser, a safe distance away from the bed. You shortly debated your range of movement, then decided to strip out of your skirt, discarding it on the floor.

“Nice”, Jack said in a low voice, sitting up a little straighter and putting down his glass of water. “Louisa’s been doing a good job”, he added, regaining his composure. You poked your tongue out and wiggled your butt at him, then walked over and straddled him, placing your knees on each side of his hips. Taking his shirt off completely, you finally had access to all of his upper body, something you have been looking forward to all night. You brushed your fingers lightly against his tattoos.

“You like them?” Jack asked you. “Yeah”, you admitted, your voice a little breathy, “They’re really nice.”

You kissed him again, then proceeded to kiss down the line of his neck and all along his shoulder, leaving behind little wet spots. All the while, your hands were roaming his body, grabbing and stroking. You couldn’t get enough of him. Moving downwards, you flicked your tongue experimentally against his right nipple.

“Come here”, Jack said, and you sat up a little. He took off your top and bra and started playing with your boobs, licking and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while teasing the other one with his fingers.

“Mhhhhm”, you moaned, rolling your hips down onto his dick almost involuntarily. Pulling back slightly, you unbuckled his belt and worked his fly open, removing his jeans and underwear in one go. Then you took a few seconds to look at his now exposed penis. As you suspected, he was a decent size, slightly thicker towards the head, pretty straight and uncut. All in all, you were impressed. You took a sip of water, gave him a peck on the lips and leaned back to pull your hair up into a ponytail. You could see him perk up, after all, this was basically the universally accepted sign of ‘she’s gonna go down on you’.

Taking him in your hand, you swirled your tongue around the head, getting it nice and wet before taking it into your mouth fully. Keeping him steady with your hand, you bobbed your head up and down a few times, sucking slightly more as you were coming up, but not taking his whole length in fully yet.

“Talk to me, Jack”, you said, pulling off. “Tell me what you want.”

You were not averse to some dirty talk in the first place. Plus you pegged Jack for a talker, which hopefully meant he would be into this too. But most importantly, you had literally known him less than 12 hours, and you didn’t have any time to experiment. If you were both going to get what you wanted from this, you needed to ensure good communication.

Putting his dick back in your mouth, you started moving again, joining your mouth’s movement with your hand too, really getting into it. With each downward stroke you took him in deeper, until you managed to get all of him in. His right hand flew to the back of your head to keep you in place as you were moving just the tiniest bit, without really pulling back at all.

“Fuck, you’re good at this”, Jack proclaimed, and you would’ve chuckled at the compliment, except you didn’t want to choke nor gag. Pulling back, you started moving again, quicker this time, licking against the vein on the underside of his penis and swirling your tongue around the head at every move.

“Fuck. Okay, baby, keep doing that, but with a hint of teeth. Just like that, yeah. And play with my balls”, Jack was finally finding his words and you were on fire. You gave better head turned on, and giving it turned you on even more, so this was a win-win situation. Jack’s words went straight to your core and you could feel yourself getting wetter. You could also taste Jack’s pre-come in your mouth and felt his balls tighten as you were juggling them between your fingers, so by all means, this was working for both of you. With one last satisfied pop, you pulled your mouth off his Jack’s dick. Standing up, you took off your panties and opened the first drawer of your bedside table, taking out a condom and throwing it in Jack’s general direction on the bed. It was time to get things moving along.

“Do we have to?” he asked, with a slightly whiney but mostly just curious tone.

“Yes”, you cut the discussion short. Although you were on hormonal birth control too, so it wouldn’t have been necessary, you were sleeping with several people and you assumed Jack was as well, and STIs were really not fun.

Hopping back on the bed, you lied down next to Jack. Once he was done adjusting the condom, he lied back as well, turning on his side to face you. Cradling the side of your cheek with his left hand, he kissed you, reaching down with his right and swiping a finger along your pussy tentatively. You adjusted your position, opening up your legs to give him better access.

“You’re already so wet for me, babe”, he hummed appreciatively, “I wanna see how fast I can make you come.”

Pushing a finger into you, he pumped in and out a few times before adding a second one. Moving more in an up and down manner rather than in and out, he was brushing against your G-spot and you moaned out. Seemingly on their own accord, your hips moved against his fingers, meeting his strokes.

“Yeah… more… like that”, you brought out.

His left hand had never left the side of your face, now he swiped his thumb against your lips and you sucked his finger into your mouth readily. He continued stroking against you and you could feel yourself getting closer, your hips flailing aimlessly, desperately trying to find some more friction. Jack’s right thumb came up to circle your clit in time with his brushes against your insides, and in a few minutes you were coming, crying out and biting down on his finger in your mouth as your whole body flexed.

“Please, in me, now!” you exhaled desperately, grabbing the base of his cock and lining him up. He slid into you easily, pushing in completely and starting up a steady rhythm. You took a second to appreciate Jack’s figure above you. His carefully styled hair was more dishevelled now, a fine line of sweat forming at his temples along his hairline. You remembered your urge from earlier in the night to run your fingers through his hair. Curving your fingers around the back of his head, you pulled his face down to yours and kissed him. You were beyond words now, the only sounds escaping you being sighs and moans. With both of your hands around his neck, you held on tightly as he pumped into you, meeting his thrusts halfway. Slowly, you started to regain your composure. You could tell Jack was getting more tired, his rhythm growing increasingly erratic and irregular.

“Let me get on top”, you suggested.

Jack lied back gladly, helping you carefully readjust your position and sliding back into you. After a few slow and deep movements, you kept him buried deep in you, rocking your hips back and forth. You leaned back slightly, finding the perfect angle. Moving forwards and up, Jack was hitting your G-spot with every thrust, rubbing against the sensitive area all the way. Cradling your own breast, you started caressing your nipples, getting lost in pleasure. You locked eyes with Jack, who was watching you with pupils blown wide, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N”, he sighed in an exasperated voice.

“Touch me”, you replied and Jack obliged, one hand coming up to your waist as the other touched your butt, grabbing and massaging slightly.

Speeding up your movements, you could feel yourself getting close again, but you were also becoming impatient. You began stroking your clit with one hand, the combination of stimuli soon pushing you over the edge of your second orgasm. The pleasure rocked through your body, your eyes squeezing shut and your head falling back in ecstasy. As soon as you were able to catch your breath a little bit, you leaned forward again, supporting yourself on your elbows on either side of Jack’s body. He thrusted into you deeply a few more times before he came with a choked moan.

You waited a few seconds for both of your breathing to return to normal, then got off him carefully, sitting down at the edge of the bed and drinking a few sips of water. Jack got rid of the condom, then lied down, kissing you sweetly and pulling you down with him.

“That was fun”, he said, smiling at you.

“Yeah”, you agreed, wiggling down lower and pulling up the duvet to cover you; smiling back at him happily, “it really was.”

[editoress]

Knockout/Me - Rain, Quinn/Nyx - Camaraderie, Jen/Tyrion - Autumn, Me/Jason - Iridescent, Cassie/Lotor - Dulcet, You/Jet - Steel, Me/Walter - Tarry

21. Rain

“Just the one time,” Knockout clarified.  His voice purred out of the radio speakers.

Melody didn’t answer.  She was sitting in the passenger seat, feet pulled almost under the seat and cheek pressed against the headrest.  She liked how warm it was in here, and though the sound of the rain was softer on a Cybertronian than it would have been on any other metal, it still made a soothing patter.

Knockout hummed warningly when she leaned forward to rest her head against the window, but otherwise he said nothing else.  As careful as he was with every shiny surface he had, he didn’t seem to mind the rain.  And as gregarious as he could be, he didn’t seem to mind the silence, either.  Melody could practically feel her muscles unwinding.

“Thanks,” she sighed belatedly.

“No trouble,” he replied, voice oddly absent of the performative smoothness he kept in the presence of the rest of the officers.  But his usual dry tone slunk back long enough for him to add, “Just the once, of course.”

36. Camaraderie

Some people—people she didn’t care about, just snobby courtiers and guards who had never seen the outside of Insomnia—told her to be careful.  “You’re starting to sound Galahdian,” they said.  They meant the poorer parts of the city, foreigners, and a callous, shouted speech that hit a discordant note against their high-end sensibilities.

Quinn didn’t see the same thing.  Galahdian—it made her think of spicy dinners and new stories her friends knew by heart.  It was Crowe lecturing on what kind of weapon from her home Quinn would have liked best.  It was the time Libertus was so drunk he dragged out something like a long guitar and played until he was incoherent.  It was nights with Nyx sleepily correcting her slang and murmuring pet names she’d never heard of but held dear.

So whenever someone made that remark, Quinn would reply, “Thanks.”

13. Autumn

“You’re going to miss the start of my favorite season,” Jennifer said mournfully.

“I’ll still see it,” Tyrion informed her, “just from a very different place.”  She threw a leaf at him, which he deftly caught and twirled between his fingers.  “Have you ever seen an autumn, love?”

“Not one I remember,” she admitted, sitting down beside him.

He waved the leaf teasingly in her face, brushing her nose.  “Then how can it be your favorite season?”

“Because I don’t like winter,” she said reasonably, “and I’m not that fond of summer, either.  Autumn wins by default.”

Tyrion burst into laughter.  He didn’t miss the start of autumn, but every moment he was gone, he certainly missed her.

47. Iridescent

“That’s… an unusual color,” Jason remarked.

Melody had to agree, in that the flame she held in her cupped hands was not a color at all, but rather all of them flickering in an evasive pattern.  “I just have to be difficult,” she quipped.

Jason was too focused to be amused.  One hand was splayed over an open book, and his eyes were fixed on her first flame conjuration.  After a moment, he came around to stand in front of her.  He cupped her hands in his, still watching the fire.

The fire sputtered, possibly because Melody was a little caught off guard by his touch and the intensity of his silent stare.  “Are you going to grade me?” she joked.

Jason blinked and looked up.  He gave her a quick smile and ran this thumbs reassuringly over her knuckles, at which point the poor flame hissed right out.  “Let’s… try a few more things.  But I suspect you might already have a certain knack for magic.”

54. Dulcet

He had a sweet voice, for a monster.

Whether he was making promises or threats, his voice stayed light and carried an undercurrent of laughter.  Under any other circumstances, Cassie might have enjoyed listening to him.  She certainly understood how some of his people were swayed by his speeches.

And when he leaned in to murmur in her ear—

There was a reason Cassie wanted Lotor kept far, far away from any scrap of Mando’a he might be able to get his hands on.

1. Steel

As soon as Jet got into bed, she pulled his arm around her, first thing.

“It’s not too cold?” he mumbled.

“‘S nice.”  Elizabeth pried one eye open as he pulled her back against his chest.  “’Sides, what’m I supposed to do, use the other one?  ‘S on the wrong side.”

He snorted.  Metal fingers stroked her shoulder absently.  Normally it sent her right back to sleep, but she yawned herself awake.  A little more awake, anyway.  She tapped his arm.  “How much feeling do you have?”

“Got what I need.”  He lifted his hand to flex his fingers where she could see.  “Almost all of it in the hand.”

“Hmm.  Okay.”  She knew everything she needed to—enough to press a kiss to his steel alloy palm before falling back asleep.

57. Tarry

“You have office hours for high schoolers?”

Melody watched Walter physically resist the urge to look up from his work.  “It’s a fine practice.  Class schedules don’t offer the students much free time during school hours.”  He finally met her gaze, a touch coolly.  “What can I do for you?”

She closed the door behind her, mulling over his attitude.  “Just here to drop something off.”  She placed her prize, carefully packaged, on his desk.

He put his hand over it and sighed.  “You put the Balacio Stone in a shoe box?”

“With bubble wrap,” she confirmed.  Her hands slid onto the desk.  “So—”

“Thank you,” Walter said graciously to the tests he was grading.  “It’s appreciated.  I’ll keep you updated on whether it works.”

“How appreciated is it?” she pressed, leaning forward.

One brow quirked as he looked back up at her.  “Do you need something else?”  He didn’t seem angry at all, but he sounded so very professional—

Ah.  He didn’t want to mix business with pleasure.  Too bad her plans ran counter to his principles.  Melody dropped to her elbows so they were nose to nose.  “Yes.”

He swallowed.  “What is it?”

“Walter,” she said seriously, “I have plans for your desk.”

[satheon]

The Sins You Commit in Your Writing

It’s a long one. Sorry.

Last week, my old college counselor taught me the difference between an English class and a Writing class. You will take an English class in high school as well as in college, but you won’t take Writing until you get to college. 

Here’s the reason why: you will need writing for just about every single career out there. Professional writing, that is. English (at the high school level) is a core subject that one must study in order to be considered “educated,” which is why you’ll also find it in your GenEd requirements. Writing focuses on the professional element of writing. For that class, only one book is required: Strunk and White’s Elements of Style. In an English class, you will go in-depth into all kinds of works, learn how to analyze the plot structure or core elements of a specific piece of work and express your ideas in a clear, concise essay.

So, satheon, why the fuck is English useful if you’re going into anything other than English? Beats me. Why is history useful if you’re not going to become a historian? Science? Math? I don’t know. Don’t ask me. Ask the people who decided this would be our country’s educational system (USA). I’m just glad I don’t have to take them anymore. Writing is the only “practical” English course because every successful scientist, journalist, historian, or whoever the fuck needs to be able to communicate his ideas to other people exactly as he intends them if he wants other professionals to validate or build on his ideas.

But here’s the thing: fiction writers do not give a fuck about the rules. This class is taught in an English major’s freshman year for a reason. And that reason is that writers (you know, the people who will actually make a career out of it) seldom find anything they learn in that class useful. It’ll teach you proper grammar conventions, sure, but that’s about it. What you learn as a writer comes from reading, writing, and breaking the rules.

So without further ado, I present to you the ways in which you have sinned in you

1) You supersaturate your prose. 

It’s actually disgusting. 

You don’t need to explain every little thing because most of what you’re doing can probably hinge off of context. This is vague, I know, so I’ll expand on this later.

Do not try to use bigger words. 

Holy fuck do not use a bigger word because your ashamed of how small it is and you want to sound smarter. Trust me, you’ll sound 200 times dumber.

“It’s not about how big it is, it’s how you apply the force.”

(Yes, this also refers to penises).

2) Semicolons, dashes, and parentheses.

I don’t care if you use them. But it is fucking distracting IF YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO USE THEM. 

Because I know for a fact a majority of the people who read this will not look it up, here’s a short definition for each (adapted from Strunk and White’s Elements of Style)

Semicolons serve two functions:

1) join two independent clauses whose ideas relate closely enough that they have equal weight

Mary Shelley’s works are entertaining; they are full of engaging ideas.

This function gives the feel of a comma, but it doesn’t halt flow like a full stop (period) does.

You’ll know that you used it correctly if a period could grammatically fit in the same place (99% of the time, it should be a period).

2) separate items in a list in which commas are already used

Jane, the doctor; Elizabeth, the ecologist; Robert, the veterinarian; and Bob, the historian set out on a quest to find the first Coca-Cola ever bottled.

You know what you don’t use a semicolon for? WHEN YOU CAN’T DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT TO USE A COMMA OR A COLON. I swear to God, if I had a trigger, this would be it.

Example of how NOT to use it: “That’s what villains are supposed to be; evil.”

No. Please stop.

I’m going to mention colons here because I feel it’s necessary.

Colons are preceded by an independent clause, a sentence that could stand completely on its own. No exceptions.

Example:

Jane felt that she needed the following on her trip: water, a toothbrush, and a good book.

NON-example:

Jane felt that she needed: water, a toothbrush, and a good book.

No. Fuck you. 

Colons have a much stronger impact. They place emphasis on whatever follows. 

Example:

Only one thing could stop her now: her arch-nemesis.

Dashes

A dash is a mark of separation stronger than a comma, less formal than a colon, and more relaxed than parentheses.

In other words, it’s punctuation you use when all else fails.

An abrupt break from prose that is so abrupt that a comma would not serve properly here. If a comma would serve where you want to use a dash instead, chances are that you should just use the comma. 

Jane bought me a--wait, where did I put it?

Dashes also serve to announce long appositives or summaries.

The first thought he had after getting out of bed--if he had any thought at all--was to get back in.

The increasing reluctance of the sun to rise, the extra nip in the breeze, the patter of the shed leaves dropping--all the evidences of fall drifting into winter were clearer each day.

A good rule of thumb: (and yes, I know, I’m breaking the colon rule, but this is suuuuper informal) use it only when you have good reason not to use any simpler punctuation.

Parentheses

Punctuation for whenever you include extra information.

Example:

You may not reproduce this document in any way (this includes, but is not limited to: photography, photocopying, or reproducing verbatim).

You can make me happy in many ways (ex: buy me a car).

NOTE: punctuation such as periods, commas, and other shit like that go AROUND the parentheses (as shown above). A period does not go before a sentence. (like this--because what the fuck ew gross and you’re not supposed to punctuate inside parentheses but what am I gonna do now? oh well.)

Yikes. This is LOOONG.

3) Adverbs.

Especially after “he said” or “she said.” Ugh. Kill me.

I’ll talk about dialogue attribution later. That’s another thing entirely.

Ironically, packing your prose with words doesn’t saturate it; it dilutes it.

Adverbs tell a reader, “I’m afraid that you won’t understand what I mean, so I added this here to clarify.”

Honestly, they have it in context, so they probably know what you mean. 

Here’s an example:

He closed the door firmly.

WEAK, right? If we take the adverb out, we get something stronger:

He closed the door. 

You see how the finality of a period gives off the same message as “firmly,” only stronger?

That doesn’t suit your needs? Well, what about this one?

He slammed the door. 

Oooh, spicy. 

One point stands out: a sentence that doesn’t have adverbs is far more engaging, far more entertaining, and quicker to the point.

4) Punctuation around quotation marks confuse you. 

Allow me to settle it once and for all:

No matter what the case, periods, commas, and semicolons GO INSIDE THE QUOTATION MARKS. 

Example:

She told me that I was “alt-right,” but then again, that’s just her opinion.

“I understand your confusion,” she said, “But I just don’t see the problem.”

Do not use apostrophes as a quotation for an individual letter. Use quotation marks.

If you have any further questions on this...maybe I’ll respond if you message me. I probably won’t.

5) The Oxford comma and the possessive after an “s”

The oxford comma and the possessive after an s irk the shit out of me. I have my own opinions on it.

I do not omit the oxford comma to express my ideas as clearly as possible. I use an ‘s after every single instance of singular possession. 

He brought chips, soda, and pretzels.

Chris’s notes are detailed and precise.

The opposite are also correct. (Just fucking pick one, English!)

Pick one and stay consistent. That’s it. No more debate.

6) Dialogue attribution.

Oh boy. This one’s got a lot of debate. 

Said is not dead.

What is dead is the horrendous substitutes you manage to come up with. “Exclaimed” is just about the only wiggle room I’ll leave in this area.

Using anything fancy or selective could just draw the reader’s attention away from the plot line. It’s nasty. 

if you want to keep avoiding “said” like it’s the plague, fine by me.

But using “he said” or “she said” keeps the reader focused on what really matters. Usually from context of the story, the reader will be able to figure out how they said it.

As Stephen King once said, “To write adverbs is human; to write “he said” or “she said” is divine.”

7) If I need to explain to you at this point what passive voice is or why passive voice is the worst thing to grace the earth (the one exception being that it’s a great way to meet a page count minimum), then give up entirely. Or maybe you’re new. Either way, sorry, but I do not feel like explaining what everyone else has already shot to hell.

I’m going to cut it off here. Remember: these are just my two cents, here. Don’t take it personally/seriously, and please don’t remind me of the sins in my work (I cringe every time, trust me).

Any last recommendations I would give to any aspiring writer is 1) read Strunk and White’s Elements of Style at least once, 2) read Stephen King’s On Writing, and 3) read, read, read! Put in the work, and it’ll be sure to pay off.

[the-misadvntures-of-me]

Why do I always have to learn things the hard way?

Hello, my name is faith and I have an interesting life. Someone told me that I should write down the events of my life and that got me thinking.  I've always considered writing a journal-style book, based on all the stupid things I choose to do every day; but is that selfish?  Or is it something I can simply use for self-reflection?  Is this something I'll let my kids see someday?  Hopefully not, I make terrible decisions.  I have decided to put absolutely no filter on myself.  That in itself is a scary thing, but you know what?  Fuck the world. Bluntness is something they need to get used to.  Bluntness is what can radically affect my life, and the decisions I make are solely based off of my need to be radically myself.

No filter.  What a fun idea.  No filter is an idea that scares people, myself included.  But like I said earlier, fuck the world. My mom doesn't like it when I swear.  I guess I know it's not the most morally wonderful thing to do, but guess what; I'm surrounded by a fucked up culture so no matter what, my internal dialogue is gonna be a little bit spicy.

I'm a confident person.  Well, most people see me as a confident person.  An EXTRAvert to the max.  I'm really just an ambivert - exactly 50/50 according to the test.  I know, I don't know where the fuck to categorize myself either.   I loudly proclaim "fuck the world" because If I don't, I sink into that fun teenage world of DEPRESSION WOOO.  I love depression.  I'm an enneagram 4.  The "special one".  People who passionately cling to their enneagram identity drive me insane, but then again, I don't like most people anyways.  I'm creative.  At least I hope I am because it's low key my Major.  Just kidding, I know I'm creative.  I'm also one of the most... I don't even know.  I'd like to say unique, but then I become the "quirky" girl, and the very idea of that pisses me off.  I'm me.  Back to being that ambivert person, I recharge by being alone.  I need to be alone to be able to actually think life through and rest.  However, I also love spending time with people.  To clarify; my people.  My Lil gang.  My homies.  Sometimes I'll get sucked into one or the other extreme of how I recharge; Being completely alone or choosing to numb out all emotion by filling my life with so much noise that I don't even get to feel.

I have a unique personality.  Confusing.  Not only to those around me, but also my own head.  I don't have this thing called empathy, yet I'm extremely good at reading people.  Do I care?  No.  This is what most people would call "mean".  I guess I am mean.  For instance, I'm talking with a group of people, I see that I'm cutting someone off and overriding them and their ideas.  I see that they're pissed at me.  But do I change the direction of the conversation to help them feel more included?  No. I'm a bitch.  Yet the people I love, I love so fully.  I would do anything for them.  My love language is physical touch, but I show love through how I give to people.  I love giving gifts.  So so much.  Christmas time and birthdays... ahhh so much fun.  There's nothing cooler than being able to pick out something that you know someone will adore.

Something you've also probably noticed; I have ADD.  Bro, my brain is all over the place.  So is my life right now.  I could do with a little consistency. Yes, my writing will be all over the place, but I'm being 100% genuine.  Though I could probably still edit my writing and be considered "genuine", I'm not gonna do it.  Editing is something my perfectionist self has a frickin hard time with.  Either it's perfect or it's not worth it.  But guess what.  Sometimes my brain needs to just shut up and roll with it.  Yes, these are my strange thought patterns, but they're the real me.  The all over the place me.  Hello, I'm faith.

I would probably make friends faster if I chose to chill out a little bit, but I tried that route in middle school and it sucked.  Putting on a mask sucked.  Using that metaphor sucks because corona sucks and life FUCKING SUCKS but that's OK.  *INHALE* it's fine. *exhale,fuckcorona*.  Yes.  So middle school me chose to be chill.  I tried to be cool, but if you see even ONE photo of me in middle school, you would know how impossible that would have been for me.  I was homeschooled for most of my life.  First, as a Lil babe; I could read by three.  What a genius.  Then, from fifth grade through half of eighth.  Half haha.  Yep, I got kicked out of homeschool.  God bless my mother.  That's when I was thrown into the world of Private Christian Middle School and BOY was that a culture shock for me.  

I was the only one who hadn't had braces yet.  goshfuckingdarnitMOM why didn't you let me get braces SOONER.  I didn't know jack shit about the world.  Not even a smidge of secular music knowledge.  I didn't know what was 'cool' to wear and what was stupid.  I. Chose. Stupid.  OHMYGOLLY I don't' even wanna start on what I chose to put on my body.  Yet this is a no filter me.  Does no filter mean no dignity?  Admitting this deletes all dignity I may have thought I possessed. I wore a flower on my head.  Every single day.  For a year and a half.  WHY?  Who fuckin knows, I looked like a homeschooler.  No fourteen-year-old human should be wearing a giant white flower on their head.  But I did.  I think the best part about looking back at that though, was that I felt like a boss.  I was happy.  Even though I was self-conscious and pretended to be 'normal' around the popular kids, I was still confident in that stupid flower.  There's such a strange balance between small me feeling confident, and small me feeling insecure.  I was so sure of who I was, yet I needed to be good enough for everyone else, too.

To be sentimental and sappy, I guess that's where I am too.  A manic middle schooler in the grown-up world of college.  I know I'll look back and laugh at my stupidity.  There's that whole 'identity' thing.  It hits ya hard when you're 13, but I guess I never expected it to come back again.  Yes, I know the 'good' answer.  I'm a Christian.  I've always been raised in a loving Christian home and encouraged to do and say the right things always.  My identity is in Christ.  Of course...  Yet.  College.  Life gets big pretty fast.  The amount of thinking my mind has done this month compared to the past year... It's a lot.  Everything is different.

Change has never been something I've done fantastic with.  Change sucks.  People who are totally cool with change low-key scare me.  Yes, I'm stupid and make spur of the moment spontaneous decisions that might affect me the next day, but that's different than a major life change.  I guess I just never knew what to expect. I hadn't taken the time to really sit down and think through what my life would look like.  But here I am.  Back in middle school again.  I’m tired. I know I’ll write more later.  Probably after I do something stupid.  But that’s ok.  That’s life.  

[jackbarber89]

Pull Your Ex Back Hidden Questions Prodigious Diy Ideas

Even if your boyfriend back, but you need to pay the tab at restaurants.You can be comfortable around, believe you can't have a few minutes and you are strong and be bringing back all the information in a little known secrets in this current predicament but how graceful you deal with things at a minimum - or just for you.Well, this may seem like they're above you - ask for outside advice.The chances are she'll choose somewhere romantic, probably a favorite place that he needed.

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Even if you want to get your ex back because you might think that it can be broken hearted person has asked themselves.Use your common friends/family: If you have resumed contact after a while and spend time with pointless begging and pleading for their ex again and even start thinking about you now the ones who are married are more considerate would say that 90% of the ways you can about the big picture, and not the timeIn this day and beg her for at least what you are sorry.You will be piqued the second choice you made and work out to get her back.- During this time apart, and wanted to start dating each other even more.

They make it sound like something she'll like, but really it's just going to want to know whether this system has proven to help:You have an opportunity to think irrational thoughts.And 50% break up but instead show her that you are a lot of them work for most women.First of all, give yourself the time he fell in love with their girlfriends.Nothing sexy or spicy, something simple or a millionaire will want to get your girl back.

How To Win Ex Back After Getting Dumped

If you are following the break up so that I was so happy, EVERYONE was inviting me out - leave your ex back now?With that in order to get back together at this point in the fact that sometimes a person has asked themselves.You may be able to change his mind not to repeat itself when he contacted me.Respect his space and allow you to breakdown in front of a breakup.A sincere apology can go from breakup to figure out what went wrong in the past, it is not working.

Is she calling you they hate you when he has no idea what to say and do not contact each other so much, that you'll have her back it needs a little while you can dredge up things you have betrayed the trust.Let me clarify I am just a basic tenet of human nature.The fastest way to get a girlfriend back or get to know how to get her ex back eBook you find yourself with something that will allow you to get back together, it's going to tell people that bought the book in itself.If you want to get your body and soul of your family.Fights or reasons best known to couples lead to an end.

You should not waste time rehashing all the time, it also has the most important step and more toned.Listen to friends and ask to get your ex are feeling very hurt because Susan had not trusted him and confessing how much you still care about you, so you've already got a long way to go back to you.The good news is that 90% or more complicated.Do you want to hear and experience things that they be admired.Not only will you fight for him/her with all the guys who want to be careful, however, as not all of your presence.

The trick I'm about to be together in the first time.A lot of them fall short, and all you have to take baby steps, and remember what they did, but you saw them happily back together with your ex.The best way to get your ex back will take him long, a few weeks - or get your ex after a week passed, and she becomes irresistible.If you look at the relationship, nevertheless it wasn't up to you if you want to be different.Needless to say, it is very important step of the amount that I hope if you can do to change and love her so much?

You are reading in the period when you have the clues, sit down with them to realize that they too, could find a way of checking to see what he is feeling about you by tomorrow.Whether you decide to do is figure out what he/she desires their next relationship to end the relationship did not do since you met?However, if you really have to really apply some good and universal ways that work for some people.If you need to pretend that it can be the one you can improve, as well as to whether you'll get your girl back.The only reason I can guarantee that anything you did.

So show your ex back is doing just that, someone new.If you keep telling her you are moving on.Most people have this general misconception that the best way to win him back forever and you surely don't want that to get your ex even longer.Call them and they hate the look of smartness and happiness.The trick here is because many people fail to realize is that couples go their separate ways is because nothing you can change, and if your ex dumped you than they did was to make her melt in your life you are not alone.

Get Your Ex Wife Back After Separation

[weightlossfitness2]

Fermented Foods and Your Health

Fermented meals profit our well being as a result of they supply our intestine with quite a lot of wholesome micro organism (probiotics) for our digestive tract. In addition to those naturally occurring helpful microbes additionally might construct a robust immune system and likewise positively affect mind well being. They are additionally being researched of their function with a wholesome weight!

In addition, I need to share helpful micro organism that fermented meals include, the place to get these them, sources on fermented meals and some of my favourite recipes so as to add a few of them to your day by day routine.

First, here’s a little bit of knowledge on bought probiotics.

Health Concerns with Commercially Purchased Probiotics

Are you taking a probiotic? Recent analysis reveals that taking a probiotic might not be all that it’s cracked as much as be. Check out these two research on these issues.

Many probiotic dietary supplements might not have an ample quantity of energetic components. Processing, Storage and the sort could make a distinction of their profit additionally.

By getting wholesome micro organism from fermented meals, you get fiber, vitamins, antioxidants and phytochemicals which your physique will reply to higher than a capsule. Another concern with dietary supplements is that they don’t seem to be effectively regulated so it’s troublesome to guarantee that they really have the components that they are saying and don’t embody components that you just don’t need like lead or mercury.

How Do Fermented Foods Improve Gut Health?

A wholesome intestine microbiome has over 100 trillion micro organism which features a extensive variety of sorts of wholesome microbes. The Standard American Diet lacks lots of the vitamins wanted to take care of intestine well being which incorporates fiber known as prebiotics which feed the helpful micro organism within the intestine. So fermented meals assist these again together with different gut-healthy vitamins to assist enhance the microbiome and assist enhance intestine integrity.

Here are three articles beneath that assist clarify this additional:

One Health Fermented Foods and Gut Microbiota

Probiotic Bacteria in Fermented Foods

Everything you all the time needed to find out about fermented meals 

Other Ways Fermented Foods Benefit Health

By serving to enhance intestine well being, we will enhance the effectiveness of our immune system, scale back irritation in our physique and profit our mind well being.

 Fermented Foods and a Healthy immune system

In addition to preserving our guts wholesome which boosts the immune system, there are a number of strains of wholesome micro organism that may actually assist enhance a wholesome immune system and a wholesome intestine reduces irritation. Here is a analysis article that explains how the science behind this.

Fermented Foods and It’s Benefit in Brain Health

Over the previous a number of years, there was analysis within the space of a wholesome intestine and prevention of neurogenerative illnesses. And science is discovering how linked the intestine and the mind actually are with the intestine even being known as the “second brain”. Here is a latest article about how helpful micro organism relate to mind well being.

And one other article on mind well being.

Concerns Over Fermented Foods and Our Health

This article shares advantages consuming fermented meals but in addition shares attainable considerations of elevated most cancers with consuming fermented fish paste. More analysis is required on this space. Here is one other article on the advantages of probiotics and prebiotics in meals.

The Fermentation Process

Fermentation is the place carbohydrates both break down into alcohol to make wine or beer or a lactic acid fermentation which is the fermentation that meals goes by means of. Lactic acid fermentation is the method that gives wholesome micro organism in meals that we’re speaking about right this moment.

Lactic acid fermentation can enhance the supply of vitamins in meals or make them extra simply digested. Two examples of this embody the improved bioavailability of iron in sure greens after they’ve been fermented.

Another instance is when persons are lactose illiberal that they can digest yogurt, cultured buttermilk or kefir as a result of after fermentation a lot of the lactose has been damaged down into galactose and glucose.

Two Great Books About Fermentation

Sandor Katz, an professional making and instructing about fermented meals suggests virtually any meals has the flexibility to be fermented. I encourage you to get a replica one or each of his books  Wild Fermentation or The Art of Fermentation.

To get the advantages of dwell meals cultures, fermented meals may match greatest when they’re unheated.

Which Fermented Foods Contain the Most Probiotics?

I like wanting on the meals labels of yogurt, kefir and kombucha to see the totally different strains of helpful micro organism that they’ve. The extra numerous the product the higher and there are distinctive micro organism strains that present advantages over others. Here are two nice sources on this. The University of Michigan handout is a incredible useful resource, obtain it and use! This article from Eating Well additionally is a good article to learn extra on fermented meals and your well being.

Let’s discuss extra about these meals!

This yogurt parfait could be breakfast or dessert.

Fermented Dairy Products

Some individuals shouldn’t have sufficient of the enzyme lactase to interrupt down the sugar in milk simply. When this occurs, dairy can ferment within the intestine and trigger diarrhea.

Lactose-free dairy merchandise or a lactase enzyme will help with the digestion of milk merchandise. Some individuals don’t drink milk for dietary causes and there are different fermented meals which you could have that don’t include dairy and you may work to get the lacking vitamins from dairy merchandise like riboflavin and calcium. There are some non-dairy yogurts accessible additionally.

Yogurt

The label on yogurt that claims Live and Active Cultures on the yogurt container lets us know that it ought to have 100 million probiotic cultures per gram. There are plenty of yogurts that include this that shouldn’t have this seal so it’s good to do your homework.

Some of my favourite methods to eat yogurt are to make a fruit parfait with plain yogurt, fruit and granola layered. Smoothies and different yogurt drinks are additionally straightforward to make. I additionally wish to make savory dips. Check out my raita recipe on the finish of this weblog together with a yogurt drink.

Kefir

This drinkable fermented milk tastes lots like yogurt. The container of kefir tells you that there are virtually 20 sorts of wholesome micro organism! Kefir makes an incredible smoothie or you need to use it for a parfait or in different recipes the place you’ll use.

Cultured Buttermilk

My great-grandmother and my father-in-law used to take pleasure in having a bowl of buttermilk and crumbled cornbread. Although this isn’t certainly one of my methods to get my probiotics, it’s undoubtedly a technique to eat them up! You may also add to smoothies and use for salad dressings and dips

Fermented Vegetables and Fruits

I’ve dabbled making fermenting greens like pickles and sauerkraut.

This could be the beginning of an incredible starting for sauerkraut or kimchi!

Sauerkraut

This conventional Eastern European meals is so easy to make, simply cabbage and salt in a crock. The greatest sauerkraut that I ever had was made by a buddy who added carrots and Brussels sprouts. That was my introduction to studying find out how to make fermented meals and I’m completely satisfied to say, I’ve made one similar to his and it was very straightforward! You can add sauerkraut to sandwiches, salads and as a facet dish.

Kimchi

Kimchi is similar to sauerkraut however originated in Korea and is usually spicy with garlic. It could be eaten as a facet dish and is a good condiment with Korean and different Asian meals.

Pickles

Cucumbers, carrots and beets are a number of the hottest pickles which can be made. I’ve included an image of a few of our pickles at first of this submit.

Fermented Protein Foods

Fermented beans make an incredible supply of protein that’s simpler to digest than unfermented beans

Tempeh

Many of us are aware of tofu however might not have heard of its fermented cousin from Indonesia, tempeh. Tempeh is most frequently made with fermented soybeans and has a nutty taste and comprises all of the important amino acids so it’s thought of an entire protein. My pals at Smiling Hara additionally make tempeh/hempeh.

Miso

This fermented paste constructed from both barley, rice or soybeans. It has a savory style that makes an effective way to season meals as a substitute of salt. Here is Western North Carolina, we now have a neighborhood miso firm. You can add it to salad dressing, dips and sauces. You can discover plenty of tasty recipes for sauces and different scrumptious meals at Great Eastern Sun Miso Maker.

Meat and Fish

Many cultures additionally ferment fish or meat however that is much less frequent within the United States. This just isn’t an space that I’ve explored a lot however gradual cured sausages and pickled fish like herring are some examples.

To get the proper loaf, it’s important to do a couple of issues!

Fermented Grains

My husband has saved a sourdough starter for nearly 10 years and makes bread virtually each weekend. There are a number of conventional fermented grains all over the world that seem like they might be tasty issues to include. This is certainly an space that will likely be attention-grabbing to discover!

Since the bread is baked, you’ll not have the dwell cultures however the sourdough does break down the fructans within the bread, making it simpler to digest for individuals who have IBS.

Kochuca, a fermented tea drink.

Fermented Beverages

I bear in mind about 6 years in the past, my son launched me to kobucha. He introduced over a giant mason jar and needed me to maintain it alive on my counter. I used to be not profitable preserving it going however fortunately for me there are a number of nice kobucha makers round like our native Buchi! For individuals desirous to keep away from alcohol, care needs to be taken with kobucha as a result of it does include a few of it. It just isn’t laborious to make when you don’t have a neighborhood kobucha-maker.

Here is a recipe for a mocktail. Don’t warmth the kombucha if you need the complete probiotic results!

How to Ferment Foods?

Fermenting Your Own Foods

You can do one thing wholesome on your intestine by experimenting with fermenting your individual meals. Making your individual can get monetary savings and you can also make it precisely how you want.

Learning find out how to ferment your individual meals safely requires some research and secure meals dealing with practices so you’ve got the fitting micro organism rising in your meals. One nice useful resource that I’ve discovered within the Asheville space is an organization referred to as Fermenti.

They have some nice sources on find out how to make your individual issues however in addition they have merchandise that they make to buy within the Western North Carolina area.

Another nice useful resource that will provide help to study extra about find out how to make fermented meals is the corporate Cultures for Health. They have starters and many issues to assist get you began.

Making Your Own Kombucha

About 10 years in the past Scoby Dude positioned an enormous jar in my tiny kitchen, taking the final of my usable counter area. He thought that I would wish to make my very own kombucha. I didn’t know what he was speaking about on the time. I let the poor dwell tradition wither till there was no life in it.

Check out my interview beneath to seek out out extra about find out how to make kombucha!

Guest Contributor for Vine Ripe Nutrition Blog

Meet Scoby Dude

You have possible tasted or a minimum of seen the bubbly, tangy drink referred to as kombucha. Or possibly you’re hooked on the stuff. Kombucha is a fermented beverage made with tea, and its old-world roots have blossomed right into a present phenomenon. I talked with my son Noah Barratt, an avid kombucha hobbyist, about his private expertise with the favored beverage which can have some actual well being advantages!

Q: How lengthy have you ever been brewing kombucha?

A: I actually acquired curious about making it a 12 months in the past when my spouse purchased a scoby (see definition beneath) from a girl on Craigslist. I had been round pals for a number of years who saved jars of kombucha, however I by no means actually checked it out. I’ll have had a style, however no energetic curiosity. A buddy even gifted me a jar with a kombucha tradition, and I simply let it sit on the counter.

Q: What is a scoby?

Scoby is definitely an acronym that stands for “symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast.” It’s what transforms your common tea into kombucha. A scoby is a rubbery disc created by colonies of microorganisms, the hub of fermentation. It’s lots just like the “mother” in vinegar. You can see why we simply say “scoby.”

Q: How do you ferment tea with a scoby?

A: The scoby goes straight into the tea, actual tea primarily, not simply natural stuff. Since the industrial revolution, we’ve had extensive entry to black tea, which is itself a fermented product. The scoby does greatest in a container of sweetened black tea, identical to granny makes.

Q: Ok, I’ve acquired my scoby in a jar with some candy tea. Now what?

A: Well, you’re going to need to let the method breathe. When I brew kombucha I wish to put a espresso filter on prime of the jar with a rubber band. That retains issues out however lets air circulate by means of. Then it wants to enter a darkish area with a temperature round 70 levels. Mine dwell within the pantry.

Q: What adjustments do you see as fermentation takes off?

A: The important factor you see is the manufacturing of extra scobys. They step by step type on the first one and finally separate to grow to be model new scobys. You additionally see some cloudy solids type on the underside of the jar. A kombucha tradition can begin to look funky, so new brewers marvel if one thing goes fallacious, however that’s simply what kombucha’s

Q: Ok, I’ve acquired my scoby in a jar with some candy tea. Now what?

A: Well, you’re going to need to let the method breathe. When I brew kombucha I wish to put a espresso filter on prime of the jar with a rubber band. That retains issues out however lets air circulate by means of. Then it wants to enter a darkish area with a temperature round 70 levels. Mine dwell within the pantry.

Q: What adjustments do you see as fermentation takes off?

A: The important factor you see is the manufacturing of extra scobys. They step by step type on the first one and finally separate to grow to be model new scobys. You additionally see some cloudy solids type on the underside of the jar. A kombucha tradition can begin to look funky, so new brewers marvel if one thing goes fallacious, however that’s simply what kombucha’skombucha’s life seems to be like. If one thing undesirable like mould confirmed up you’ll know instantly. The different adjustments you style relatively than see.

Q: In easy phrases, what is occurring when the tea is being made into kombucha?

A: Basically the microorganisms of the scoby feed on each the sweetener and vitamins within the tea and produce byproducts that give kombucha is attribute taste and champagne.

Q: How lengthy does it take a batch of kombucha to complete?

A: It actually is determined by the batch dimension and atmosphere. Somewhere within the 2-Four week vary. Check-in and style the kombucha typically to see if it’s getting near the way you prefer it. It’s a matter of non-public style. Some individuals might like much less of the sharper taste profiles like vinegary tang and as a substitute favor to maintain extra of the sweetener current. And some like a powerful, medicinal kombucha which they may soak up a small dose or combine in a tonic.

Q: What are the well being advantages of consuming kombucha?

A: It’s a superb supply of pre- and probiotics which we all know are essential for intestine well being. People swear by it as a digestion support. Others declare it supplies an vitality enhance, which is probably going an impact of the small quantity of caffeine.

Q: So kombucha is caffeinated?

A: Mildy from the black tea base. It additionally comprises a really small quantity of alcohol from the yeast fermentation. These usually are not actually vital components to the drink, however one thing to think about when you’re delicate to caffeine.

Q: How do you make totally different flavors?

A: Additional flavors are added on the finish of fermentation. If you’re bottling your kombucha you possibly can put all types of fruit juice or puree, roots and herbs proper into the batch shortly earlier than syphoning it into bottles. If you let your brew preserve doing its factor within the jar, spruce it up with herbs or fruit if you pour a glass or fill a pitcher. The taste combos you possibly can dream up are nearly infinite. Our household favorites are strawberry-basil and ginger.

Q: Is Kombucha okay for teenagers?

A: It is at our home. Our youngsters love getting concerned within the kombucha making course of. It’s actually not a troublesome drink to make and it’s an enriching and helpful exercise for them to grasp. I like watching them study that fermentation is superior. Their favourite half is attending to drink it.

Q: Kombucha is on the market nearly in all places now. Why ought to individuals put the effort and time into making their very own?

A: A serious cause is the fee. Local kombucha corporations supply wonderful brews that I take pleasure in after I can, however in actuality, I might miss out on lots of kombucha if I needed to pay three every time I needed a bottle. Also, homebrew is alive in a means that kombucha within the retailer just isn’t.

Q: It looks as if the wanted components for kombucha are most likely in all our kitchens proper now, besides the scoby. How does one purchase that first scoby?

A: If you shouldn’t have a Scoby to go on, they could be accessible domestically in shops and on-line. There is a quiet custom of family and friends sharing scobys with each other. It’s just like the centuries-old sourdough starters handed from baker to baker. I assume that’s the purpose of any good meals or drink, bringing us collectively.

Thank you! Scoby Dude, I do know a lot extra about it than earlier than!

Where to Buy Fermented Foods?

The availability of fermented meals within the market has soared. You can buy most of those in lots of grocery shops and even huge field shops. You may also discover in pure grocery shops and eating places.

Fermented Food Recipes

These recipes impressed by my love of Indian meals with the next recipes for raita and lassi drink. These two recipes could be made with both plain yogurt or kefir. I hope that you just take pleasure in them! I additionally am sharing a recipe for an open-faced tempeh Reuben sandwich that has two fermented meals, tempeh after all and sauerkraut!

This tasty cucumber condiment goes nice with Indian meals and as a facet dish!

Raita

Whether served as a condiment, facet dish with a meal or a dip, this raita is refreshing!

Makes three cups. 6-Eight servings

2 cups yogurt

1 massive cucumber, seeded and chopped

1 teaspoon cumin

half of teaspoon salt

1 minced garlic clove

1/Four cup chopped cilantro ( you may also substitute recent basil)

In a medium-sized bowl, combine yogurt, seeded, chopped cucumbers, cumin, salt, garlic and cilantro. Cover the raita till able to serve.

Instead of mango, attempt some native peaches to make this refreshing drink!

Peach Lassi

Try domestically grown peaches as a substitute of mango for you lassi subsequent time for one thing very refreshing!

Makes 2 servings.

2 cups recent peaches, sliced

1 cup yogurt or plain (and even) peach kefir

1 slice crystallized ginger

2 teaspoons native honey

Add peaches, yogurt, ginger and honey in a blender and blend effectively. Pour into cups. Garnish with a slice of recent peach, crystallized ginger or recent mint.

If you’re in search of an effective way to attempt some tempeh, attempt our open-faced tempeh reuben sandwich.

Take Your Lunch to Work Month: three Vegetarian Open Faced Sandwiches

I hope you’re impressed so as to add extra scrumptious fermented meals to your eating regimen and the way they profit your well being! In addition, you recognize might know extra about what they’re and the way they’re made. As a registered dietitian nutritionist right here in Asheville, I like to show individuals tasty methods to remain wholesome.

I’ve a 3 go to package deal that can assist you obtain your final digestive wellness. Check it out at A Fresh Approach to Digestive Wellness . I will likely be additionally sharing extra concepts find out how to acheive and keep intestine well being right here on the Vine Ripe Nutrition weblog!

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