#after her late chicken Fig

[sisaloofafump]

Chicken :)

[callahanisms]

in the kitchen - hotd cast

blame my binging of epicurious for this one guys. (i also generally love to cook and bake so yeah)

funny enough i have a got cookbook in my cooking wishlist on amazon lol

when it comes to these headcanons, i tried my best to incorporate the worldbuilding from westeros since each character would have different tastes in cuisines (like alicent and criston, as primary examples). i have not read the books but hopefully i can do this justice.

ser criston cole

to the surprise of many, criston is very good in the kitchen. better to trust him with cooking over baking, but he’s a decent baker. his food has a lot of spices incorporated in them and it tends to be spicier than what most people aren’t used to. you will often find himself cooking late at night when no one else can interrupt him. he enjoys the quiet and to make some dornish comfort food that his mother used to make for him. more often than not, criston buys the spices and produce himself. he’s very particular about his fruit. kind of like an immigrant grandma or mom.

“evening (y/n). i did not know you would be up so late. it does so happen that i have made a little bit too much food for myself. would you like some? it’s roasted chicken with figs, olives, and some spices.”

daemon targaryen

daemon is not a bad cook? it’s really iffy considering that cooking and baking are things he never did. he doesn’t have much experience but somehow, he always manages to make something that tastes good. he definitely does not measure, definitely does not keep track of time. and somehow, it all comes together. he’s a little less chaotic when it comes to baking and the bread he’s made tastes really good. you’re always struggling to get a loaf from him.

“do you want some (y/n)? i slaved away for hours to make this. i promise it tastes good. at least that’s what my brother told me. don’t know if he’s lying or not.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra is not a good cook. you have strictly been told to keep her away from the kitchen. there have been more than enough fires started when she’s tried. baking is a no good and the best she can do for cooking is just throwing stuff into a pot with some water and letting it simmer down into a stew. even then, she has managed to burn things before. better off letting someone else cook for rhaenyra.

“this is quite delicious (y/n). you have outdone yourself. perhaps you should come back to dragonstone with me just so i can have your cooking to myself.”

alicent hightower

alicent’s a homecook. she cooked more often when she was younger compared to being an adult. however, she has great technique. she much prefers baking considering the fact that it feels like she can exercise full control over the little thing she’s doing, which is opposite to her own life. definitely a stress baker and needs to do it when she’s alone so she can have time for herself. it’s her version of self care. she also is very picky about produce and comes into her children’s room unannounced with cut fruit. (there is no argument about this, i’m sorry)

“(y/n), dear, i noticed you were looking a little pale today. so i cut up some blood oranges from dorne and made some pigeon stew for you. remember to eat, okay? chasing aegon should be your priority after you nourish yourself.”

aegon targaryen

aegon seems to have inherited his sister’s skills because this man cannot be trusted in a kitchen. he has definitely undercooked chicken before and sausages and beef. definitely tried to cook once and alicent almost fainted when she saw that the chicken somehow turned blue. when he’s drunk, he’s alright. can actually put together a decent meal that isn’t undercooked. but never trust his technical skills. he almost chopped off two of his fingers once.

“come with you to the kitchen? mother won’t allow me to go in. i didn’t do anything i promise! aside from...almost cutting my finger off...and setting the dough on fire.”

aemond targaryen

aemond is not a bad cook. he’s very good at it, actually. he does not do it often but if the time calls for it, he will. he also is very good with baking and frequently comes to your room to deliver whatever he has concocted in the kitchen. there is something to note, however, which is that aemond’s palate is a little more on the sensitive side. so when he seasons things to his liking, it tends to be underseasoned for others. he also cannot handle spice. accidentally had some of criston’s food and almost died.

“i hope i’m not interrupting your studies, my love. because i come bearing lemon cakes and rabbit stew.”

helaena targaryen

helaena is very experimental in the kitchen. she spends an awful lot of time on her presentation rather than the process. the process doesn’t take long. it’s just the plating and making it look to her heart’s content that does. depending on the day, the food can taste as good as it looks. sometimes it’s a little underwhelming but regardless, eating helaena’s food is always a pleasant experience. she also balances her seasonings and flavors well unlike her younger brother.

“(y/n), are you hungry? i can make something quick before you get back to your duties. it would be a nice break.”

jacaerys velaryon

jace is someone who needs structure within the kitchen. he’s great at following recipes. and that’s why his food tastes good. he needs to follow a recipe when in the kitchen. it gives him some structure and a sense of direction. he’s okay when it comes to cooking without a recipe but much prefers having one. he’s also very clean, often cleaning as he goes so he doesn’t have to do it later.

“oh! don’t worry about that (y/n). i can clean up. i just finished with the dough so there’s plenty of time for me to spend cleaning. it’s a nice point of relaxation.”

[pynkhues]

If at all helpful and/or encouraging, I cannot express how excited I am to read your post-succession fic. You're one of my favorite succession writers and I am waiting with baited breath for this fic :)

Ah! It is, anon! Thank you so, so much. You can have a little snippet if you like - the whole fic's set across two days about two weeks after the finale, so kinda keeping up with the rhythm of the last season, haha.

-

Roman texts her again that night, not a cartoon this time at least but a comment about Connor and Willa being back in New Mexico for a few days. Finally putting the old commune on the market, should I buy it? Always thought I’d make a good cult leader, and the place has great bones. Real Waco meets Burning Man potential, hey on a related note, you heard from Kendall since you 🔪

Shiv blinks, types how the fuck is that a related note?

Adds: and maybe don’t put your cult plans in writing or you’ll be done before you even start.

Dipshit.

The typing ellipsis appears on the screen, but Shiv doesn’t wait for him to reply. She has a shower, dries her hair, tells the chef she feels like lamb instead of chicken for dinner and ignores Rosaline’s barely concealed look of annoyance at the late instruction. Whatever. Shiv folds back onto the couch to read the barrage of messages Roman’s sent back in the meantime.

Hmm, good advice, you’re in the cult! A high-level position in the inner sanctum. You can do whatever Gerri’s job was.

Unless you think I stand a chance of swaying Gerri…

Pretend I didn’t send that, text withdrawn, you saw nothing, if you ever bring this up you’ll be out of the cult etc etc etc

And re: K – I’ve heard rumours he’s 🍳

Shiv frowns at the little saucepan emoji. Cooking?

She pastes it into Google, but all she gets is hot pansexual which is definitely not what Roman means, and she’s about to send a question mark back when the door opens and Tom steps through.

The air shifts like it always seems to these days, like it has maybe since he made CEO, since he chose her father over her, or maybe even earlier, maybe since he started flirting with a prison stint. It doesn’t chill, like, god, what a fucking cliché that would be, but it feels - - tighter almost. A spring pushed down, like the weight of them is too heavy for the moment. She swallows, slides her phone into to the pocket of her pants and sits up straight.

“Hey,” she says, and suddenly she realises Tom’s holding more than just his usual shit from work. In his hands is a box, which he lowers carefully to the dining room table as he pivots back to look at her on the couch.

“Hey,” he replies, and he looks almost surprised to see her here, or underprepared for her, maybe. Something. An oddly cautious expression on his often oddly cautious face, and it makes her stand up. Makes her close the distance between them, eyes first on him, then the box on the table.

“Good day at the office?”

“Sure. Matsson was in, but you already knew that.”

Shiv hums, offering nothing of her meeting with him, and glimpses instead the top of a frame in the box.

“What’s this?”

Somewhere behind them, she can hear Rosaline in the kitchen, the fzzt of the gas stove top and the whir of the oven, can hear the thrum of the central heating and feel it soft as a gloved hand on the side of her cheek, but none of it matters when she sees the first photograph in full.

Her father and Reagan, shoulder to shoulder, hand in short, fat fingered hand.

She glances back up at Tom, her face carefully blank.

“They’re from your dad’s office,” he tells her, like she didn’t know, shrugging out of his blazer and dropping it to the back of one of the chairs. Leaving it for Tilda to put away later. “I - - it’s been suggested that I move in fairly quickly, just for the. You know. The optics.”

“Oh, sure, clear out the ghosts.”

“Something like that. Marks a transition, I guess.”

Shiv sniffs, can’t help it, thumbs through the photos of her father with heads of state and right-leaning leaders. A few cultural figures, a few musicians. Morrissey and Johnny Cash. Something in her twists in a way it feels it shouldn't.

“Roman knows a guy,” she says, shooting for flippant. “Some sort of business shaman, if you want the place smudged.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom replies. His hand finds the edge of the box, the opposite side to where Shiv’s are, curling tentatively against the cardboard. “Most of it's been packed up now, but I just thought you might want these? Or your brothers might. Since they were obviously important to him.”

There’s something earnest to his tone, saccharine and soft, and she wonders if he means it, but in the same breath, she thinks these are worthless and he knows it. Only worth as much as the frames, the glass, the paper they’re printed on – all of them are otherwise online. Digitised in the family archive. The helmets, the medals, the war memorabilia, those are the only things with value.

She wonders if he’s kept them.

“I kept the photo of you.”

Which - -

Shiv blinks.

“You kept my father’s photo of me,” she echoes, and Tom must hear something in it, because he takes his hands from the edge of the box, shakes his head.

“It’s just a photo, Shiv. A nice photo.”

“Of me.”

“Of you.”

The one Matsson had his hands on in the office before he made clear she’d be fuckable to him again after she’s had this thing. A photo of her from before she and Tom even met, one where her hair was long and her face still round and soft with the last flush of her adolescence, even though she was in her twenties by then. She can even remember when it was taken – a father’s day photoshoot with her and him for Vogue, a spread and a story about the beautiful, promising daughters of hard, powerful men. Dad had had every photo from it printed, hell, she’d even kept a few herself, but Tom keeping it, Matsson holding it - -

The thought sinks somewhere deep in her, and she tucks her hair behind her ear, pushes the frames back in the box until the one of her father and Reagan faces up again, and somewhere beside her, Tom shifts his weight.

“He didn’t have any pictures of your brothers in there, you know. Guess you were the favourite.”

It’s something, she knows, an offering maybe more genuine than the photos, but all she can think is what does that matter? Where the fuck has it ever gotten her?

She turns, offers him a flat smile, and Tom gives one back.

[thecandywrites]

Kihro and Brie- Last Ditch Effort

Because Borug is stupid and stupid is as stupid does.

Kihro and Brie

Last Ditch Effort

Kihro and yourself began to prioritize what needed to get changed first when he would move in and you were happy when Kihro made the master bathroom the top priority after the sub-pump, because that had been your biggest complaint, but one that he could change in a weekend with his dad and your dad or even a friend or two. 

Both of you had giddily went to your favorite plumbing place that had bathroom showrooms and having already having the room’s measurements, got exactly what you wanted from the jacuzzi tub, to the very powerful toilet that should powerflush even the largest of dumps which Kihro being an orc- could be quite sizable in itself. You got the perfect his and hers sinks for the large counter in the bathroom and picked the perfect cabinets and the perfect tile for the floors and the backsplashes and for the shower of your dreams that both you and Kihro could fit in quite comfortably with a bench which you were sure was going to see a lot of action. 

And once the keys were handed over, soon supplies were being loaded up into the house by the truck load, practically daily. Kihro and yourself found some amazing deals on items on clearance and closeouts so you got the deals of a lifetime on some of the supplies so that your budget could stretch even further and that you actually liked more than your previous choices had been. And of course, with your dad being a builder, had quite a few friends in carpentry, windows and roofers and before you knew it, the house was practically a new construction site. Between a brand new master bathroom, new carpet in the bedrooms, new windows, a new roof and some chimney work to make sure both were up to snuff to build fires in and use properly when the weather would change. Kihro even built a greenhouse- thanks to that woodshop which suddenly got filled thanks to several estate sales with your father and his and their friends and your grandfather filling it with all manner of tools and supplies so that if Kihro wanted to do more in carpentry- he could and most likely would. 

And he even built a chicken coop immediately after he built the greenhouse. And you were brooding chicks! You had even named them. You even got the patio furniture you wanted and even the patio cushions you wanted. Which was perfect as a mini dining room while he weather was nice since the kitchen was still being renovated. 

And he had already gotten the garden plot prepared while you and your mother focused on the flowerbeds and landscaping in front of the house, thanks to a truck bed full of dirt and another full of mulch and a few hundred dollars worth of plants, shrubs and even trees- fruit ones. Practically a mini orchard’s worth. You had fig trees, apple trees of a few varieties that had overlapping seasons so you’d get fresh apples from August to October. You got pear trees and peach trees and even a couple of plumb trees. 

Thanks to your cousin Sasha doing the same with her future house with Tristan Leduc, you even got your own blueberry grove with your all time favorite varieties that would have you harvesting them from late June to late September since you looked forward to going blueberry picking every year since you were a kid at Leduc’s too. Plus berry patches of all kinds and an herb garden to die for. And a big but very thoughtful and mindful vegetable garden. All of which was just so much fun to plan and then plant now that it was spring and the weather was fair. Because you were finding you could really dig this homesteading thing. Kihro made the basement a root cellar to finish all root cellars to store all the produce that would be coming from the garden so that your refrigerator and your normal kitchen and pantry wouldn’t be overrun as you got a mini kitchen in the basement so that you could can down here and prepare the fruits and veggies as you would need to. You had gotten crates worth of mason jars to can the produce that you and Kihro  had a “mason jar” washing party between your sisters and your mom and his mom and his sisters- all of you- washing and then re-storing the mason jars so that they would be ready to be filled and used in the root cellar. 

Your cousin Sasha’s boyfriend, had a family friend of his come with some of their goats to come and chow down on some of the overgrown parts of the yard before you tried to build anything instead of bush hogging it all which was super fun to play with the goats while they ate and it readied the soil itself too. 

You bought huge cans of lemonade mix and Tang and a sweet tea maker and often made huge batches of lemonade and Tang and sweet tea by the five gallon cooler so that the crews working on the house at least had some kind of refreshments and even took to baking all kinds of baked goods for them too so that for them to work on your project was an enjoyable one while you were sure to praise the crews on social media for their diligence and hard work ethic.

Kihro got to gain even more friends in the process so that if any of them ever needed, or had customers who needed plumbing work- it was Kihro with Wright Plumbing they were going to be recommending and come to you when they needed massage work so they could keep their bodies in full working order. Your parents brought a few huge coolers that always seemed to be full of fresh ice and pop and beer too for the crews which they got to enjoy on the job too. 

Khiro’s “house warming gift” from his parents was a mini kegerator. Especially since orcs did love their beer. And you were grateful that Kihro never over-drank or got drunk, at least in your presence or that you had heard about. Even from his closest friends when Grace had mentioned that he always seemed to drink beer whenever he went out and was worried he was going to become an alcoholic or would be a mean drunk. Which, you knew wasn’t true, but for Grace and especially your parents, was a concern that Kihro was quick and ready to assure and reassure would never be a problem with him or anyone else who would ever be on his property either. His parents and the clan in general, because they just happened to metabolize beer very easily for nutritional value over enjoyment of alcohol. 

The antique stove was actually worth quite a bit of money to an antique collector, who spotted the stove in a picture of one of the crews and came and made an offer for it- that you found you couldn’t refuse. And while you had felt like you had just gotten used to cooking with it. The sale of that one appliance, meant you could use the sale of that to fund the purchases of all brand new kitchen appliances in matching black, even a restaurant sized and strength stove with two ovens. But that sale also made purchasing industrial sized and strengthened washers and driers for your clothes, that much more attainable, and you got to have a proper laundry room. And thanks to the sale of that stove, meant that the house was now fully functional and Kihro could officially move in and stay here and live here full time that much faster and that when he wasn’t working secularly, he was doing home improvements for himself every evening and every weekend. 

And thankfully all of this happened just as you finished with your clinic hours so what time you weren’t using to work on your last semester of projects and studying for MBLEX licensing test, you were at this house, helping Kihro and his friends make it into your home and while you could “spend the night” more often now even though you weren’t “officially” moved in yourself yet, until “after” the wedding. You were just grateful and relieved for it because it meant that Kihro could work on the house while living in it, which made you spending your evenings and off days from school here, helping him make the work go even faster and more enjoyable as the two of you continued to enjoy working in tandem with each other, the same way you always had and would continue to do- far into the future. You were happy when so many people came en-force to help too. Your family and close friends and of course all of Kihro’s friends and most of which were coincidentally his co-workers came too to also help with some of the bigger projects that Kihro would be needing help with that were too much even for you to help with. 

However, when Borug came since his dad had “gifted” a home security system as an early wedding present, he felt he needed to put the very best security system they had- in himself. His dad was making sure the security interfaces by the doors were installed while his best employees were setting up exterior cameras. 

But that left Borug and yourself to set up the window sensors in the house on your own while Kihro handled the heavy lifting of the new tiles for the kitchen in- with his friends. 

“So you and Korryn broke up for good this time?” You asked Borug privately as you helped him put some sensors on the windows while you had to be on a step ladder to reach the upper corners while Borug took care of the adding the sensors to the system part of the installation on the special tablet they used while the app downloaded onto your phone. 

“Yeah, when I ran out of money, she ran out of interest.” Borug tried to play off. 

“Well, sadly I’m not surprised. Now you see why she and I aren’t friends, she’s a selfish bitch who cares more about how she looks on camera and how many likes she gets on her posts on social media than actually having any social skills or even how to have a functional relationship that’s built off of anything other than being picture perfect but only skin deep.” You muttered lowly which got Borug to bark a laugh. 

“Yeah, you can say that again.” Borug readily agreed. 

“Why did you get with her in the first place anyway? Were her gigantic tits too hypnotizing or what?” You teased good natured-ly, just trying to get through this amicably because otherwise, something about him put you on edge today and you couldn’t put your finger on it. But it sat like a sour stone. But also put you on edge.  

“Sadly, yes.” Borug guiltily confirmed because that was easier than telling you the truth at this exact moment. 

“Well, hopefully you’ve learned not to fall for that twice then.” You offered since you were up on a step ladder to get to the upper corners of the windows so that you were taller than Borug for once and that put Borug, coincidentally at chest level with you which you could occasionally feel his gaze settle on. But you didn’t want to make this any more awkward than you felt like it was. You were just hoping this would be friendly and casual because Grace’s previous warning was being called to mind about what Borug would do- if given half the chance. 

“Yeah, problem is, every girl that was friends with Korryn wants nothing to do with me.” Borug pouted. 

“That’s a blessing honestly. Because if she thought she kept you in a stranglehold, she keeps her friends in a similar state. You’re better off getting a girl who doesn’t even know her or have any mutual friends with her either.” You returned. 

“Isn’t Grace, Korryn’s friend though?” Borug questioned.  

“She is, at her own risk. No matter how much I try to warn her that it’s a matter of time before Korryn turns on her for daring to become prettier or more popular than Korryn is. But Grace, as much as she is my sister and I love her and I have her back- she is not immune to the consequences of her actions or the consequences of her choices either. And I can’t shield her from everything the way most big sisters like to do. Korryn has always been a selfish, backbiting, backstabbing, controlling, dramatic attention whore. Who keeps her friends in a stranglehold and is a mean girl through and through. Grace likes being popular, and Korryn keeps Grace on her toes and playing mind games and is one of those ‘if I don’t like this person, no one is allowed to be friends with them or else they’re not friends with me and everyone I’m friends with’. Because she never learned that people can be friends with each other outside of her, you know, like the rest of us learned in kindergarten. So yeah, she’s never going to be my friend because when Korryn says ‘jump’ Grace asks ‘how high’ right now.” You muttered in irritation. 

“And if she were to try to do that with me, I would just tell her ‘to fuck off and for her to jump off a bridge” and then she would trash talk me and try her darndest to turn everyone “on her side” against me. Although, I'm pretty sure they like and at least- respect me enough to not listen to her. In fact, there's an on going and on-growing “fuck Korryn fanclub”. She’s already pissed that I “snubbed” her by not having her in my wedding party. But she can’t do much to me in retaliation for it because I refuse to give her any power over me. And while some of our friend circles overlap. She can’t cause a big enough stink to get people to not attend my wedding like the way she’s been trying to- because I won’t her let be a bridesmaid, because she’d turn my wedding into hers in a heartbeat and she’s already a bridezilla without needing to be a bride. But it’s my wedding and I can’t stand her and she’s officially off the guest list for trying to talk my guests out of coming to it. So no, I’m not having someone I can’t stand in my own wedding party, she’s lucky she got invited in the first place by Grace. But with her throwing a fit, I rescinded it and instead put her ass on the ‘do not, under any circumstances let this person in’ list. Because with everything else I have going on, I have no patience for that shit. And I had already warned her that if she caused any drama, she's banned. And then she fucked around and found out. And the field in which I groweth my fucks for such nonsense is barren. Honestly, I’m relieved you’re not dating her anymore and instead can come to the wedding without her. You deserve a lot better than her honestly.” You tried to soothe as he beamed such a happy, relieved smile at you that you hated her as much as he did. 

But now, the temptation for Borug was too great as he looked at the entryway from the living room to the kitchen to make sure you two were still “alone” although Kihro’s friend was in your massage room, just off the livingroom- lowkey- keeping an eye and an ear on things at Kirho’s request because Kihro didn’t trust Borug on account of what Grace had said either. And when Borug insisted that you and only you should help him install the sensors on the windows, his gut threw a flag. And while he knew his own presence would deter Borug from either making a move or making a pass at you, he just wanted to make sure that you weren’t truly alone with someone he didn’t trust. And while he was polite and to a degree friendly and grateful and gracious to Borug’s dad for the system, Kihro would have preferred if Borug did anything other than do something that put you and himself alone in any part of the property. But this was about trust and professional courtesy and if Borug could be professionally courteous, so could he, so, he put his literal best man- in the next room over. And made himself useful so that it didn’t appear that he was hovering over you. 

And right now, Akhi was sitting against the wall but had his phone out and was at least recording your entire conversation- just in case- with the occasional peek around the corner to make sure Borug kept his distance physically but still caught Borug ogling your chest a few times himself and made a note of that himself too.  

“Thank you, do you have any suggestions on who might be better? Besides yourself, because obviously you’re perfect and the gold standard for every woman.” Borug praised. And as much as Akhi wanted to roll his eyes for how thick Borug had laid on that flattery, he couldn’t fault the comment. 

Because, for how you had been a girlfriend and then fiance to Kihro- had everyone else taking notes about how a real woman, neigh, the epitome of class, elegance and sophistication and well mannered- treated a real relationship. And he was one of the lucky ones that he himself had finally worked up the courage to ask Tysh out and thankfully Tysh had jumped at the chance to go out with him. And they had been going steady ever since your graduation party. And the way you were with Kihro was how Tysh was proving to be with Akhi. And she was right beside him as she listened too, since she didn’t want you to be alone with Borug either. Because of what she and Grace had both heard and seen from the way Korryn complained about how Borug compared her to you, and how much better of a girlfriend you were to Kihro than she was to him which was why they broke up for good in the first place. 

“Aww, has Kihro been singing my praises that loudly? No I’m not perfect, I’m far from it actually.” You tried to downplay it even though the thought did make you happy that Kihro was actually bragging about you. 

“Actually Kihro keeps things about you on lockdown, and surprisingly doesn’t say much of anything to anyone. Other than seeing you together, he doesn't say much of anything and most have no idea he's dating you, let alone- engaged. Which gives me pause and makes me worry about his intentions that he would keep that information so secret. And from what I’ve seen and heard, he doesn’t behave as if he’s courting you or engaged either.” Borug ventured and grinned when your smile fell to a serious frown. His plan of sewing seeds of doubt was working. 

“Which isn’t fair to you. And doesn’t do you justice because even a blind man could see what an excellent woman you are, no matter who you decide to grace your presence with.” Borug countered which made you knit your brows together even more, although that did sound more like Kihro who defended your privacy and his own quite fiercely. But you had heard the opposite from all of his other friends, Kihro could and would -  sing your praises from every rooftop. And show your pictures of you two together to anyone and everyone. 

But you were honestly rather tired of people questioning Kihro’s “intentions” with you, most of which was founded on the ‘he’s only trying to gain more of the company by courting and marrying the boss’ daughter’ line of reasoning. And if that’s what Borug was going to imply, you were going to give him an earful about it.

“Huh.” Was all you could answer with. Because you were not about to buy into it or ask him to explain- because surely, he would do nothing but throw Kihro under the bus and you would not tolerate any disrespect towards Kihro, especially behind his back.  

“Could I tell you something that can stay just between us?” Borug asked hopefully, softening his voice down to a low murmur that Tysh and Akhi both had to lean over and quietly change where they were to hear as Akhi immediately started texting Kihro to get his ass into the house because Borug was about to make his move as Tysh recorded the video on her phone from her vantage point. 

“Well that depends on what it is, but usually, yeah, you know I can be discreet and have been known to keep the confidence of a friend.” You slowly agreed as your gut threw a red flag about the tone and his choice of words in that request as he took another step closer to you. But with you being on the step ladder, you’d have no choice but to rub your chest against his face if you were to try to get down. And that’s when it hit you. He had you pinned without having to pin you to a wall or a corner. You were pinned by a wall of air. 

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the first time I saw you and it’s only grown into love ever since.” Borug confessed and you dropped your screwdriver onto your toe as it then clattered onto the floor as Tysh had to keep herself and Akhi from gasping but to keep recording as Akhi put his phone to record a video of this too as he laid on the floor and put the camera of his phone just out enough from the door frame to capture the scene.   

“Ow,” you grunted as you braced on the window frame above you to keep you from falling into his arms. From here though, Borug easily bent over and picked it up and handed it back to you and let his touch linger on your hands and arms and gave you a look you recognized as hopeful yearning in his eyes and your stomach sank, because Grace had called it. And you had hoped she had just been seeing things but now it seems, she saw this and was right about it. And you had tried not to see it and ignore it. Because you didn’t feel the same way about him. 

Shit. 

“Really? So...since elementary school?” You asked as you prayed that Kihro would come in any minute now and push him off of you because you were practically frozen at the top of this step ladder. 

“Yeah, you were one of the few girls who played soccer and could run just as fast as us and keep up with us on the soccer field and you were cool, a little quirky- but cool.” Borug confided. 

“Yeah, well the quirky was the unmedicated ADHD. But then puberty hit and it wasn’t fun to run anymore with these things flopping the breeze.” You returned with a pointed look at your breasts then back to what you were working on, trying to play this off as funny and sarcastic to help ease your uneasiness and discomfort about this subject as you did your best to turn out of his hold on you which only partially worked. As he then went to put his arm over the top of the step ladder so that you would have no choice but to hold onto him to get down.  

“Yeah, you could have easily used that to your advantage though and scored all you wanted to because all of us would have been too distracted by “those things flopping in the breeze”.” Borug gently tossed back at you with a chuckle but an appreciative look to your breasts all the same, granted they weren’t nearly as big as Korryn’s but they were plenty sizable, a good handful. Fun and functional. 

“Yeah but that wouldn’t have been fair to you guys and I’m not one to take advantage of the vulnerable.” You answered as you tried to ignore his leering gaze as your cheeks grew hot and you could feel yourself flush under his leering gazes and looks as you began to feel like a mouse about to be put into a trap. 

“I know, that’s what makes you so amazing.” Borug confessed. 

“Thanks.” You graciously accepted his compliment as you started to feel even more uncomfortable under his scrutiny.  

“You know you could have any guy you wanted, you didn’t have to settle for the first one to ask you out.” Borug pointed out which made you frown because that was also something you had heard way too often for your liking too. Ok, fuck being scared, you were pissed off now. And you were officially on the defensive. 

“I’m not settling for Kihro. We’ve liked each other for a long time. And my father had very firm rules about not dating until I was out of high school, which Kihro technically bended- but it was only because he had already proven his good intentions, genuine feelings, integrity and honor. Kihro has liked me and loved me from afar for years and he was simply counting down the days and waiting for the opportunity to make his feelings known. Plus, his feelings are obviously returned. And were returned before he even said anything to me to begin with- because I was crushing on him for a long time too.” You defended as you finished and had to put your hand on his shoulder and then used it to move him back while using the touch to get off the step ladder. And then you moved the step ladder to be between you as took a step back from him as you looked at him wearily but determinedly to defend your relationship with Kihro, especially to Borug.��

“Doesn’t mean he was the only one, I...I do too. I have loved you from afar for years now too. I’m sorry to finally have the chance to tell you this now, but it’s not too late. You can still back out. You don’t have to go through with this, just because a crush has spiraled out of control, and just because Kihro stands to gain a lot more from this union than you do and he is very intimidating to tell a guy like that- no. Especially if you fear for your safety if you do. It’s ok, if you’re not safe or happy in this relationship you can tell me and I can find a way to get you out of it. My dad’s truck is just outside, I could whisk you away to anywhere you wanted to go to escape. It’s not to late for us. Now that I’m free of that bitch Korryn, I can free you of Kihro and we can both make our escape.” Borug confessed as he took the step ladder and moved it aside to keep it from being a barrier any more- which made you frown deeper just as Kihro had gotten the text and purposefully walked by and overheard your last statement and Borug’s declaration. 

“Really?” You questioned, because instead of backing up as Borug advanced, you planted yourself like a tree and widened your stance to the strongest stance you could and put your hands on your hips and squared your shoulders as you puffed out your own chest. 

“Yes really. Anywhere you want to go. We’re only 10 minutes from the airport. Don’t worry about packing anything. I’ll buy you all new things. We could fly to Vegas, we could get real wild and crazy. We could get married by Elvis and then honeymoon in Cancun. I’ll take care of everything. You would never have to worry about a thing.” He offered as you blinked in surprise before frowning even harder in confusion at him. Did he really just think you were some paper doll he could tape you into any scene he wanted? 

Kihro glanced into the room and immediately stopped in his tracks and put his box down as quietly as he could, as did all of his other friends as he looked from his vantage point to Tysh who was putting a thumbs up and pointed to the fact that Akhi was recording and he could see the phone peeking out of the door frame along the floor and out of Borug’s field of vision. 

Kihro just stared in outrage as Borug took another step until he was practically toe to toe with you and well within kissing distance. 

However, just as he was about to intervene, you had put your hands on your hips, put your shoulders back, head held high and stared determinedly back up at Borug. Kihro recognized that body language, you were about to fight. Now he would step in if things ever got physical, but otherwise, he knew when you took that stance, that there was something of a hurricane of a fight in you and he knew better than to hinder it, it would just have to vent, let all the hell and fury that was burning it’s way in your heart and core- rage- at Borug. He knew you swallowed a lot down for everyone else’s sake. But now, you weren’t gonna hold back and Borug had it coming. Kihro had no doubts Borug didn’t earn the fight he was about to receive. You and him rarely, rarely ever fought, like he could count on one hand the number of times you had disagreements that he never allowed to escalate to a full blown fight. However, he knew the moment you would take up that stance, it was game over for whoever you were about to go up against. He had seen the hell and fury you could unleash on anyone who had earned your ire. And you fought dirty, viciously and ruthlessly. This was about to be a show. And he knew that Borug wasn’t paying any of your body language and posture any mind. So he simply stood there to see how this was going to play out but the moment Borug or yourself would make it physical, he was going to step in. 

“Absolutely not! There is no way in hell I’m going with you anywhere.” You spat at him angrily. 

“Damn it Brianna! Just shut up and listen!” He cursed before he punched a hole into the wall next to him which got you to take a half step back as Kihro was ready to kill him for threatening your safety as he took two steps towards you and finally got into your peripherals but you put your hand down but held your hand up in a stopping motion, which meant that you weren’t done with Borug. And it was that and only that- that kept him from advancing. 

“Ok, fine, say what you need to say then.” You invited. 

“Look, the day Kihro asked you out, he literally pushed past me as I was trying to go up to you and ask you out that day too! Kihro just beat me to it by only a few seconds! My Dad also told me that you were graduating early and I knew my window of opportunity was closing and I wanted to be respectful of your dad’s rules but also not miss out on finally saying something or doing something when I already had so many missed opportunities. And then when you said yes to him, I decided to bide my time and try to wait until he crashed and burned so I could…” Borug began as he got flustered. 

“So you could what Borug?” You asked as you folded your arms over your chest. 

“So I could come to your rescue and sweep you off your feet! All the spoiling and all the lavishing of gifts and stuff on Korryn, all of that was just an effort to try to show you that I could give you the same- if not better. You deserve a better quality of life than Kihro could ever give you. I could afford to treat you like the princess you are! With me you would never have to work. I make more in a month than I’m sure Kihro does in six months. I will make more in my lifetime than Kihro ever will. And Kihro will work himself to death and break his back just trying to provide the bare necessities for you. I mean you practically turned your little acre of land into a homestead to help ease the burden of him providing enough for you so you don’t have to spend so much money on groceries for fuck’s sake! Which is a lot of work! A lot of hard, back breaking work! Especially with your delicate health and limited stamina. You’d be exhausted all the time! You’re pushing yourself into a very physically demanding career that while it’s admirable, you have to worry about clients taking advantage of you or heaven forbid your clients pushing unwanted sexual advances on you, in your own home! Which is dangerous! That’s just asking for trouble. I can make your life comfortable, lavish even! You don’t have to settle for mediocre. I mean look at this house! It’s only half done and barely livable and so outdated, our parents marriages are younger than this house. Could he not afford to get you anything nicer that you didn’t have to dump all your money into making it at least livable? You’re buying just about everything when it’s on clearance and on sale because Kihro can’t even afford to pay full price for things which I’m sure you would have preferred.” Borug insisted. 

“I have a condo at The Glen that’s brand new and fully decked out. No work necessary. I mean Kihro had to build a greenhouse and a garden just to feed yourselves here. And have nasty chickens in the yard just for eggs. All while he blows all his money on slimy snakes which is a super expensive hobby that never has any good returns on and only if you dump hundreds of thousands of dollars into, all while you’re growing your own vegetables to feed yourself. I mean his truck is just one bump away from completely falling apart and has more rust on it’s body than anything else. Replacing that truck isn’t going to be cheap or easy.” Borug desperately contested. 

“I have a brand new sports car! That you can drive if you’d want to. Or hell I’ll buy you any car you want to drive. With me you wouldn’t even have to work! You could rest easy at home and focus on your health, which my company has better health insurance than Kihro does and you would never have to budget for anything. You could literally buy nothing but steak and shrimp or lobster for every meal, no sweat. You wouldn’t have to budget for your medications or worry if you have enough money in your bank account just to get the life saving medications you need! I could get you into specialists across the country and even across the world to cure you and find a way so that you’d never have to worry about losing any more of your colon or worry about getting a colostomy bag.” He insisted. 

“Why would you choose such a hard life with a guy who drinks his weight in beer on a daily basis? While you have to buy powdered lemonade and make it by the gallons for everyone else, including yourself? And he never sings your praises to anyone. Your own dad had to take pity on him and give him a raise and a promotion just so you could qualify for financing at a bank while I got to buy my condo outright. He can barely put a few little gold beads in your hair. And you can’t even wear the necklace you have the others on- for fear you’d break them because of how cheaply made and fragile they are. He has no friends outside of work. He has no social media presence. He has no way of helping your business. It’s you who has given him everything. Don’t you think he’s using you to get ahead in life? Don’t you think he’s using the fact that you’re the boss’ daughter to get himself and his friends raises and better work trucks and better uniforms? And don’t you think he’s influencing your own votes for his benefit? And for all you know he can “lay his pipe” in every job he does which is why and how he’s gotten such good reviews. I’ll bet you anything that he’s been fucking all those thirsty housewives who I heard it from you- that they make him hand squeezed lemonade and fresh cookies, just so that he could “clean out their own pipes” after he fills their water softeners with salt.” Borug accused. And for as angry as you were at his allegations, you couldn’t help yourself, you started laughing. 

“Wow. You are really scraping the bottom of the barrel on this one huh?” You replied with a condescending laugh as you just looked at him with pity and a shake of your head that he would stoop so low. 

“First of all, instead of also pulling me aside that day that he asked me to the dance and telling me your feelings then, you didn’t do that. Instead you literally asked out the most popular girl in school the very same day. If your feelings for me were true and actually genuine, you would have waited for me and you would have told me sooner and you would have recommended yourself as another viable option for my consideration like the others tried to do. But no, you went for the immediate gratification in Korryn- who has the subtlety of a brick, is as sharp as a marble, with the depth of a shot glass. And who is extremely shallow, petty and meaner than snot. Who pushed you to provide “a lifestyle” that you had no hope of maintaining long term who is as allergic to the word “no” as you are. So that’s red flag number one. And while you two looked great on camera, I know from mutual friends that between those camera flashes, you two fought constantly. And while I’m sure the whole ‘love-hate relationships’ are fun and built off of a lot of strong feelings and dangerous chemistry, when those feelings flip and switch- that’s terrifying for me and for most other people. I hate fighting, I hate confrontation period. And I could never handle the stress of fearing that my life partner’s feelings for me are going to flip from love to hate and change as quickly as yours did for Korryn. So that’s red flag number two.” You specified. 

“Red flag number three is that what I hate even more than fighting- is men with bad tempers. Which you just proved to me that I would absolutely be scared for my own personal safety if I were with you. Hell you just proved with that one punch that I’m not safe with you period. I know for a fact that you are just as spiteful and just as petty as Korryn is. You throw tantrums when you lose and don’t get your way, or when you feel that others are getting it better or more ahead in life than you are. Which is a sign of just how entitled you are. And it’s also a sign of just how incredibly immature you are. And how you’re a very jealous person and suffocatingly possessive. You fought with every guy who dared to criticize yourself or Korryn or heaven forbid flirt with her when they didn’t know any better or how she really is. You and Korryn both broke into each other’s phones repeatedly to make sure the other was being truthful and faithful and the fact that neither of you trusted the other as far as you could kick each other. So that’s red flag number 4 for your temper and red flag number 5 for me- is the lack of trust.” You added. 

“And just so you know- Kihro has never done any of that to me because he respects me and he respects my boundaries and privacy. He has never once doubted my fidelity and he trusts me with everything just as much as I trust him with everything. I have never doubted his fidelity either and how dare you imply otherwise. And yeah we keep our phones locked with a passcode because it’s the smart thing to do. But we both have told each other what those passcodes are and have welcomed each other to go through them. But we haven’t needed to because we have nothing to hide from each other. And usually the biggest reasons we get into each other’s phones is to answer phone calls or texts when the other is busy or usually driving or to get music playlists and stuff. And I would never betray that trust for anything. I have earned his trust as much as he has earned mine. And we have both earned our family’s trust and each other’s family’s trust. Which is a really big deal for both of us. And all you’ve done with your fall out of a break up with Korryn is proven that you can’t be trusted with anything. Especially anything sensitive or private in nature in any respect.” You challenged. 

“And the fact that you brought my career into this is a red flag for me too. What are we up to now? 6? Any client of mine who would ever cross that line from friendly professional to flirtation with me will never be a client of mine. And I’ve dismissed clients left and right for it- which is my own protective measure to protect myself from clients who would ever dream to dare cross that line with me. And it’s been a blessing so that I have room for better clients who respect me and my profession and who I trust will never cross that line with me and who actually need me and my skills and my professional services to relieve their pain and suffering. Which is why I’m pursuing medical massage as integrative healthcare so that I work with doctors and medical specialists and physical therapy. No one in their right mind flirts with their doctors and nurses at a hospital and that’s what I want for my business too.” You continued. 

“And the next red flag for me about you is that you hate getting your hands dirty with work. This is the first job that you’ve done hands-on work in a very long time. The fact that I had to overhear the other installers dumb down the installation process into baby steps for you to understand how to do even this much, to the point I could have done this by myself and been done by now shows at how inept you are even though you’ve technically been with the company for over a decade which- considering the number of home shows you’ve been to- to sell all of this should be embarrassing.” You reprimanded him. 

“Also, in case you haven’t figured it out. I don’t feel the same way about you that you feel about me. I never have and I never will. I barely tolerate you as an acquaintance out of respect for your parents, but it is obvious that the apple has fallen so far away from the tree it’s not even in the same orchard anymore. If your feelings for me were in fact genuine and not spur of the moment and not simply realizing that any girl is a better girl than Korryn to have as a girlfriend, that’s perfectly understandable. And while I’m flattered by your praise, you are way out of line to even presume that your feelings are returned. I hope and pray I have never given you any false hopes or given you any reason to believe that your feelings were ever returned by me. And to suggest that we run away together, is not only incredibly crass, heartless, disrespectful, inappropriate and presumptuous but extremely insulting. Not just to Kirho’s character but especially to mine! How dare you imply that I would fear for my safety from Kihro! How dare you imply that I’m being roped into a situation that I don’t want to be in and in all reality- have been fighting to be in this position for years! I have never been afraid of Kihro. I have never feared for my safety on his account. He has never once given me any reason to be. I am marrying him because in my heart of hearts, I love Kihro. Always have, always will. I have loved every moment I have had the pleasure to spend with him. He has been my friend first and foremost and it is that friendship that we’ve built a romantic relationship on. I have loved being his girlfriend and I have loved and been delighted to be his fiance and I will be honored to be his wife. If anyone needs to be saved from circumstances they didn’t want to be in- and who was the victim of a crush spiraling out of control- it’s always been you. Never me.” You insisted.

“And if you knew me at all, if you really knew me, and not your idea of me, you would have known that a getaway to Vegas would be the very last thing I would ever want. Am I just a paper doll that you can tape up in any circumstances where you think I should be? After everything I’ve done to build myself up to this point? You really think I would ever tear it down by running out on everyone and everything- for you?! Spoiled, selfish, shallow, hollow- you?! There is nothing that you are, there is nothing that you have, there is nothing you could ever gain- that I would ever want.” You insisted. 

“But…But…!” Borug sputtered as he was taken aback by this. 

“Borug, you had the same amount of time to tell me about your feelings as Kihro did. In fact you’ve had way more opportunities to tell me than he ever got! All those business owner association meetings that we both went to growing up? You could have said something then. Well, up until you were “old enough” to go in with your father to join and take part in yourself. But at the same time, leaving me in the entryway with all the other wives and mothers, daughters and sisters to arrange the snack tables and make coffee and arrange the brownies and cookies on the trays. You could have fought to include me since I am the eldest child period. But you didn’t. Instead you flaunted the fact that you were included to all your friends and thought you were being “the cool friend” to tell me what happened behind those closed doors instead of fighting for them to remain open for me.” You chastised him. 

“But my invitation came when my dad thought I was ready to join them. My dad was my champion and my hero long before Kihro ever was and you never were. Every part that Kihro has in Wright Plumbing, he has worked for and earned all by himself, I was never involved with any of it and he has never swayed my vote and I hope to all the gods and goddesses that I have not swayed his. Because each one votes according to their consciences.” You defended. 

“And from what I’ve heard about you and your professional life- is you voted for your employees to get an extra “opt out” bonus for their insurance in their paychecks. So that when your business employees- can have a little extra money today so your company doesn’t have to pay so many tens of thousands of dollars in insurance premiums in the first place and fattens up the bottom line for you to take home instead. Which leaves many of your employees exposed and at risk of having an accident and then having absolutely nothing shielding them from the price gouging that is our medical care in this country. All so that your pay bonus would be that much bigger.” You spat defiantly. 

“How…how did you know about that?” Borug asked, astonished and ashamed that you knew about it and obviously didn't approve. 

“Korryn! She made a whole post about it exposing “the evil big corp” who practice the opt out bonus for medical insurance. It’s gotten- I don’t know how many thousands of hits by now. But let’s get back to you and your feelings for me and your missed opportunities to tell me about them.” You redirected him. 

“If your feelings for me really did start all the way back in elementary school- what about all those school dances that you never asked me to because you always asked out the prettier and more popular girls in class? What about all those residential jobs that we did together where I was helping my dad install faucets and stuff and you and your dad were installing the security systems? You could have said something then at any of those times. And especially all those home shows every year where your dad’s booth was coincidentally right next to mine or across from mine or close enough that we were always within eyeshot and earshot of each other. We got to hang out and talk before during setup, during and after as we took our displays down. Why didn’t you use any of those opportunities then? You could have used any number of those to tell me that you liked me, that you had feelings for me. But you never did! You never said anything to me about this until right now. And what’s most damning is your behavior has never once even hinted at it either! You’ve never shown by your actions that you had any romantic interest in me. You never even hinted at anything, ever. No one did until after Kihro did. I’ve had more guys come out of the fucking woodwork to express interest in me- but only after Kihro did. And I hate it that I’m mentally having to add your name to that list. Is it just a guy thing that you only want the girls who are already taken and already spoken for and the whole- forbidden fruit and engaged to another thing?” You asked as Borug blushed guiltily and sheepishly at accusation. 

“Look- I realize my dad is intimidating. He has to be- to have four daughters. But Kihro at least got over his fear and intimidation of him and stepped up and said something and did something about his feelings when the time was right for it. So is that your excuse too? That you were too afraid of my dad?” You put to him, knowing full well that wasn’t the case but if he was gonna use this as an excuse, you were gonna crucify him. 

“Yeah.” Borug admitted. 

“Really?! Even when my dad could never retaliate against you the way he could have with Kihro? Kihro put his life and his honor and his clan and his livelihood on the line to tell me how he felt about me! It took tremendous courage for him just to even ask me to a dance! Not even ask me out, just to ask me to a dance. Which was the first and only time that has ever happened to me in all of my school days, which is why I never went to them before then. Even at the company picnics, no one would even ask me to dance at those before Kihro did, because again- I was usually working at those, grilling my body weight in steak several times over and was too busy to be asked, which is why I’m so good at cooking meat and meat dishes in the first place, I’ve had a lot of practice and experience. And while my dad has made Kihro jump through every hoop imaginable, Kihro has never once failed me or given any indication that his feelings for me were anything other than genuine and steadfast. He didn’t care if I was the boss’ daughter or not. He has told me and proved to me beyond the shadow of any doubt- repeatedly that- heaven forbid- Wright Plumbing could go out of business tomorrow and that would never change how he feels about me and that he would love me regardless, that he can work for any plumbing company and still provide for me, still care for me. Because all Kihro has cared about is me and has proven that with his actions. You never did any of that.” You accused him as you angrily pointed to his chest and even took a step forward once he took a step back.  

“Instead, with your actions, you’ve proven that you care more about instant gratification with whoever is closest to your “ideal” girl. You care more about that picture perfect lifestyle but it’s only ever been skin deep. You care more about your suits that you get to wear to the big corner office while you get to sit back and earn your “degree” online. So you get to actually get paid to get your education instead of having to pay to receive it like the rest of us. You’re more interested in keeping that super expensive sports car spotless and hanging out in the Ritsy cocktail lounges after work and “making connections” with the movers and the shakers in society and flirting with the pretty waitresses and clubbing in Vegas at expos and the perks of your job than you do about actually working at your job. Because from what I’ve seen and heard, is while you’re on salary, you do the bare minimum to keep it. And while you may work nine to five- you do about 20 minutes of real work in that whole 8 hour day when you’re not taking an hour and a half lunch. And you rely solely on the fact that you are your father’s eldest son and heir to keep that spot. You have been given every advantage to succeed and you take it all for granted and if anything, it’s made you entitled, selfish, self serving and haughty!” You ranted. Your voice getting so loud, it got everyone to stop and listen as all work in and immediately around the house stopped, except for your dad and Borug’s dad- who were at the end of the driveway putting cameras on the gate at the end of the driveway. 

“And while your family is richer than mine and your father’s company is bigger and earns more than mine does, you’ve squandered everything you’ve saved on the most self centered spoiled brat either of us has ever known! Who couldn’t keep her mouth or her legs closed to save her life! Did you think to do any homework about her to know what she was really like or did you just randomly pick her out of your Instagram feed? Or heaven forbid your Snapchat, or Tinder or whatever? I don’t give a fuck. And what did you get out of it?! Your bank accounts got drained trying to provide a lifestyle you had no hope of maintaining because that girl only cares about one thing and one thing only- herself. She cares more about her own pleasure and gratification, and her own comfortable and lavish lifestyle that she demands others provide for her because heaven forbid- she do any work herself or she might break a nail or smudge her makeup sweating a little bit! No matter how many dicks she has to suck to do it or how many pictures of her cleavage she has to post to do it. She might as well be a porn star for Pornhub at this point. She wants to be some sugar daddy’s sugar baby. That’s it. And I can’t imagine it was at all worth it, not for you and definitely not your family. Especially your father who probably had other ideas of how he wanted to spend the money he has used to set you up the way he has.” You challenged angrily because now that you could vent, you were going to use it. You were sick of swallowing all of this down for the sake of “peace”. 

“You got your reputation trashed by the breakup too. Which Korryn has done everything in her power to smear you on social media to all of her friends and followers because heaven forbid you keep your relationship and its details private. And all you’ve done is do the same right back to her and fought fire with fire. I’ve heard and seen that you “leaked” her nudes which is gross and something she has every right to sue you for because she never consented to the distribution of those private pictures. Which means that no girl can ever trust you with anything personal because she knows that if she pisses you off, you’ll retaliate by letting all the dirty laundry air out to the rest of the world. That’s why none of Korryn’s friends won’t have anything to do with you and why every other girl who isn’t Korryn’s friend isn’t touching you with a ten foot pole either. I get that it was a horrible relationship built off of I don’t know or care what. But even if she was a bitch about it, you could have handled it better and been a gentleman about it instead of going blow for blow with her which only proves your own mental and emotional immaturity!” You challenged which shocked Borug into silence as he just stared in shock and a bit of horror that you knew even that much. 

“So why on earth are you telling me that I’m your gold standard and ‘I’m your dream girl and that you “love me”’ and all of this nonsense now?! I’m literally engaged! My name is right next to Kihro’s on the mortgage of this house! My wedding date is firmly set, the venue is booked, the flower arrangements have already been picked out and paid for. The wedding invitations are ordered and are being printed as we speak. And the wedding cake is already ordered and paid for too! You’re standing there and you’re supposed to be helping Kihro and myself move into our house- that we are right in the middle of the process of making this house into our home. You’re literally helping installing security devices on the windows to keep the home I will have with Kihro - safe. Which I appreciate your efforts and I deeply appreciate your father’s generosity in gifting us the security system as an early wedding present. But to even think of running away with you would answer such generosity with deep disrespect.” You pointed out as you gestured to the windows and their sensors. 

“But if all it was- was in hopes of getting me alone with you- for you to tell me that you’ve secretly been in love with me for “years” even though you’ve never said it or shown it. And then, dared to have the audacity to suggest we run away together- like there would ever be anywhere in the world that I could go where’s Kihro’s love wouldn’t be felt and found by me, then that means I don’t feel comfortable being alone with you because I don’t trust you to keep your respectful distance from me. Or keep your mouth shut spouting your unreturned feelings at me. I’ve put up with the leering looks you’ve given my tits and I’ve swallowed down my arguments and my criticisms about your choices because it was never my place to say anything. I just wanted to get the damn things installed as quickly and correctly and efficiently as possible. But for you to do this and say this to me, now of all times, puts my own relationship, and its validity and it’s genuine nature into question, not to mention put into question my own character, and my own loyalty and fidelity to Kihro- I will never tolerate that. I will never tolerate any disrespect shown or implied to him since he doesn’t tolerate any towards me either. I will never tolerate anyone questioning his motives and his genuine feelings or his actions proving his genuine feelings towards me either. I have always been loyal to Kihro and to my family. And I’ve already committed all of myself to Kihro- heart, mind and soul. And there is nothing you could ever tempt me with that would ever lead me astray from that decision that I have already whole heartedly made. So why the fuck are you saying something now?! Of all the times you could have said something or shown something but didn’t. And why would you want me to keep any of this a secret from anyone? Especially since you know that Kihro and I have none between us.” You demanded angrily as Borug was taken aback by your reaction but he needed to defend himself. 

“You’re so spoiled that when your dad thought juggling work and sports was too much- he put you on a salary even though you didn’t do jack shit for the company. While my dad never paid me for my work when I worked for him during the summer, he bought me lunch. That was the only perk and freebie I got besides experience. But what he did do- is he added what he would have paid me to my college fund instead, so I wouldn’t blow that money on frivolous things like boy band CD’s and junk food. Because at the time- it was again- a toss up between what I’m doing now- and designing and engineering roller coasters. And he was preparing for the more expensive engineering option because I love going to Cedar Point to ride said roller coasters more than anything and they have always been the highlights of my summers as long as I can remember.” You justified. 

“But instead my father wanted to make sure that all of his other employees could pay their own apprentices, their own sons and daughters- and pay them well. Which meant more to me that they got paid for their time and their effort especially if this was going to be their summer jobs and their full time careers. Because they needed that money to help support themselves and their families way more than I did at the time because my father has provided very well for his large family. Because for most of the world- they live paycheck to paycheck, that’s the reality that the vast majority lives with.” You defended. 

“But it wasn’t like that for you. It wasn’t until after you graduated and those sports scholarships didn’t come through and sports teams didn’t come knocking that you got pulled back into the business and now you’re in sales. And you’re a very pushy sales guy, the kind of pushy that makes most people dread going car shopping because you’re chasing commission and not what’s best for the customer. And listening to you at the last two home shows try to chase and tackle sales and use gimmicks makes me cringe and shudder and do my best to avoid those tactics and approaches, which is why I earn as much in commission at home shows as I do because people aren’t pushed into something that’s not going to be good for them or improve their lives and situations or their home’s worth.” You honestly appraised. 

“Otherwise you wear suits and ties and sit in your office and oggle your very pretty but very inept secretary. Now I can’t comment or flag you on nepotism because we both have benefitted from our parent’s nepotism towards us. But I know that your father paid for the vast majority of your own car because you blew all your money that you had saved on Korryn- clubbing in Vegas. And I know your dad paid for the vast majority of your condo so don’t you dare say you bought those on your own and own them outright, because I’ll bet you anything it’s your dad’s name on the owner’s paperwork next to yours, either above or below because your dad isn’t an idiot.” You challenged. 

“All mine did was give half of my remaining college fund to me so I could put it down on this house because massage is a trade- with a license. Just like any other trade, but a lot cheaper than college and a degree that may or may not be worth it in the job market. But the other half of my college fund is being used to pay for my wedding so that it’s not more of a burden on my family than it needs to be. Which is something I can’t say for you. But let’s ignore all of that for now.” You said as you did a dismissive wiping motion with your hand. 

“Let’s go back to our school days. You saw how in middle school and especially highschool, no one sat at my table unless they wanted help with homework or coursework or tutoring, I was a loner. In middle school and highschool not once did you ever invite me to have lunch with you and your friends because you were friends with all the other preppy jocks and I was a loner. And it was already enough of a humiliation to go to the smart loner’s table to ask for academic help as it was. But hopefully all those that did- thought it was worth the risk to their social standing if it meant they could still be on the team and play their sports and get those scholarships and get those college scouts knocking on their door. And at least they had the graciousness to send me thank you cards for my help when that did happen to them.” You revealed. 

“But it wasn’t until after Kihro invited you to dance that he invited you to sit at his table!” Borug tried to counter. 

“And it was for a single but very good reason! Because they were afraid that whatever they spoke about in front of me, would be repeated to my dad because they and their dads worked for mine. They feared that their jobs and livelihood would be on the line if I ever heard word that they weren’t completely satisfied with their dad’s chosen profession and their dads hauling their asses into it with them, whether they liked it or not. They were worried that if they expressed any interest in any other profession, that they would never get the same support, let alone pay or opportunities or success than they already had. And they were all afraid that if they let go of the branch they were already on, that they were going to fall before they could ever grab onto another one. Which is a fear everyone has. But once they learned that I would never do that, and that I would keep their confidence if they weren’t happy with the fact that they got recruited into plumbing just because their fathers were- and that I wouldn’t betray them or their trust or confidence- they welcomed me into their fold with open arms the same way they always did on the job sites in the summer, or at the company picnics when everyone would just talk shop. And even after graduation, we are all still friends and closer now than we ever were in school and on those job sites because I’ve earned their trust and confidence too. Hell, most of them are in the wedding as Kihro’s groomsman for crying out loud!” You defended. 

“And I know for a certainty that your friends in highschool wouldn’t have done the same because most of the people you hung out with in school, had parents with white collar jobs of the CEO variety and usually looked down on blue collar ones and most, if not all of them are already gone and into college. You and I both know that both white collar work and blue collar work deserve respect and dignity. So again- another red flag because you cared more about your own popularity than you did about me and my feelings and any “damage” my smart loner reputation might have done to your preppy jock one.” You reprimanded him. 

“Look, I know if I had put forth a little more effort into my looks and appearances in highschool and invested more into the popular name brands of my clothes instead of going for quality clothing over something that was otherwise shitty but had a rich name plastered on it- and if I learned to dumb myself down so I didn’t outsmart anyone- I probably would have and could have been at least a little more popular. But honestly- I’ve never cared about any of that because I knew that my own peer’s opinion’s of me would only last as long as I was in school and that after graduation- none of it would have meant jack shit. So why invest time and money into something so meaningless?” You rhetorically asked him. 

“You yourself told me so at the home shows ‘of how good I can clean up’ at those. All while your dad made a point of saying to mine ‘that if I did- my dad would have to be beating guys off with a baseball bat and get bigger claws as the papa bear he is “to keep a fox like me safe from the poachers”,’. But I didn’t want that kind of attention. I didn’t want people to think that all I was- was a pretty face with expensive clothes and Daddy’s money to blow and too stupid to know when someone was pulling wool over my eyes and feeding me a line of bullshit. I didn’t want to worry my father or give him any reason to not trust me or fear for me while I got my required education. And I didn’t want to give any opportunistic assholes a chance to play me for a fool either. Some “innocent virgin” they could corrupt- right? I wasn’t blind, I saw all those posts of all those girls rating if other girls would put out or not. And I was ‘the smart loner who could spell sex but never have it or have a clue how to do any of it’ and ‘not worth trying to teach me either’.” Which you were always one of first to comment to either confirm or deny of it from your “network” of “friends”. Which told me that you didn’t hide anything from your ‘bros’. Which is a deterrent and a red flag in of itself too.” You recalled spitefully. 

“But those home shows where I put forth effort into my looks were special occasions and for the sake of my father’s business. Which was a full family effort. So I cleaned up, put on some makeup, some polish, did my hair and a bright friendly smile, brushed up on my p’s and q’s and played my part. Because I wanted my father and my grandfather’s business to continue to succeed and continue to thrive because of how many hundreds, possibly thousands of people depend on it to do so when you take into account not just our employees but their families and our customers who rely on us to continue to give them the service they need. So I did it for the greater good, not my own vanity.” You explained. 

“Because otherwise- frankly- my sleep is much more precious to me than my appearances. Because sleep is what I need to recover to try to give my body a fighting chance of healing itself. Because I have a chronic illness now. Turns out I’ve had it for years but it chose just recently to come to the surface and make itself known. I’ve already had so much of my colon taken out, that if I get much more- I get a colostomy bag. No amount of makeup can glamorize that and no amount of cropping can cut that out of the picture of my reality for me. And with my immune system being forever compromised having an autoimmune disease- it means that I get sick twice as easily and twice as quickly. I stay sick for twice as long and recover only half as fast and usually have to have two or three rounds of antibiotics to kick whatever is ravaging my system. There are days I don’t have the energy or stamina to make it past the bathroom, much less out of bed. My weight fluctuates wildly because of all the steroids I take and flares that I fight to survive and live through. I’ve spent more nights laying on a bed of towels and wrapped around a toilet vomiting my guts out than most frat guys do after a college party. Where I can barely lay in a bathtub to clean myself up, let alone cook or clean or heaven forbid even look at a bag of makeup. And Kihro has been right there with me through all of it. He has all my meds memorized and knows all the EMTs on all the ambulances and all the doctors and nurses at the ER and all the pharmacists by name for how often he gets to deal with them on my account when I've passed out and beyond dehydrated and in danger and has lost countless hours of sleep with me through all of that. And he doesn't say anything about any of it because it's no one else's business but mine. Does that sound like anything that should be part of a gold standard for anyone?” You leveled with him. 

“Besides before all this- before everything involved with my health went down, with school and work- I’m all business, I always have been. And in my profession now- I choose to wear minimal makeup- just to ride that line of “professionally attractive”, but nothing more. My makeup routine is 5- ten minutes tops. I’ve spent every summer since I was 7- except for the last three years- working with my dad on construction sites, digging ditches, cutting and sweating pipe and priming and gluing PVC pipe and working saws better than you can work a stapler. I’ve known how to read a tape measure and use it to do fractions and measurements long before I was ever taught it in school, and way before I ever knew algebra or geometry. And it’s something I still have to use in my profession because I have to be very specific in my reports to other doctors and even surgeons when my clients will need surgery.” You began. 

“But the biggest thing was- was that Kihro loved me just as much, was attracted to me just as much- seeing me covered in dirt and mud from head to toe in overalls and long sleeve cold shirts and muddy boots and a greasy ponytail because I was sweating profusely from the heat and hard work with not a hint of makeup in sight than he ever did seeing me dressed up and dolled up at the home shows. And it was because he respected the fact that I didn’t count on my father’s nepotism to get special treatment and do the lighter work on the jobs that we were on together. I worked just as hard on those sites as he did. Just as hard as all of them did. And I earned my place among them as an equal. Which for me- was a point of pride and a momentous feat for me, considering I’m just a weak human girl and they were all strong orc boys or halflings or dwarves or whatever. And it was that- that impressed him the most about me. Was that I wasn’t entitled and didn’t bank on the fact that I was the boss’ daughter at all. But that I was humble and unassuming and if anything, I was friendly, helpful and non-judgemental. And I was there to lend a helping hand and there to help explain to them what was being asked of them and why they were doing what they were doing if they didn’t understand without insulting their intelligence or dignity.” You expounded. 

“I didn’t care about my looks especially while working. And the only thing my dad cared about was that I was modest. Thus the overalls so I never had to deal with plumber’s crack and long sleeve cold shirts so I wouldn’t get overheated or sunburned and sports bras so my breasts didn’t get in the way and didn’t cause a distraction for anyone else. Kihro adored me for all of that but especially for earning every inch of his respect as much as he has earned mine. Because we both value honest hard work. And working smarter when we can but working harder when we need to, and discerning when to do either one. Shame on you for looking down on it. Because it’s jobs like ours- that make “civilized life” possible for everyone else. So that’s another red flag and I’m losing count and I don’t care.” You defended. 

“Plus Kihro has also seen me when I’m literally on death’s door at 3am in the hospital with Crohn’s flares. When I’m beyond dehydrated and my veins have collapsed and it takes four nurses to try and fail to get an IV and they have to call in the nurse who is used to getting veins on heroin junkies to get my veins to get an IV going when my hands and arms are covered in bruises from blown veins. My arms may not look like it now, but my veins have just as much scar tissue as any other intravenous drug user. Which makes me a hard stick and Kihro knows- by heart- and off the top of his head- that the nurses usually have to use needles usually reserved for NICU. He has literally seen me at my worst and still thought I was just as beautiful and precious then as any other time dressed up and dolled up. He has picked me up and helped me into the hospital showers when I’ve needed the help. He’s cooked bone broths for me when I can’t eat solid food. And especially when we’re not cooking together, and when I don’t have it in me to cook- he does. Even when he's already worked a 16 hour day and is already exhausted himself. And he takes delight and pride in every single bowl of broth. Even when I have to throw it all back up only a few minutes later. And he cleans up after me! And he cleans up himself and does the dishes after too without being asked or being told or begged or pleaded. He is truly self-sufficient in all and every aspect of life. My first official romantic dance with him was actually the night of the fall formal, only instead of the gown I wore to the winter formal, I was wearing a robe and a hospital gown and I barely had the energy to stand but he held me up and let me stand on his toes and just swayed with me, careful of all my IV tubes and sensors and stuff while our song played on his phone. And it was the most romantic moment of my life. Not at all glamorous. But it was something that they could make any Hallmark movie about.” You revealed. 

“You said that I could have any guy I wanted. You’re wrong. I need a man who doesn’t let toxic masculinity poison him against doing anything domestic. But whose own masculinity indulges my own femininity. Who can look at me and look at all the health needs I have, look at all the extra domestic chores and work he would have to do- in addition to earning an income and have a job with very good insurance to support me and earn enough to pay for all of my 16 medications that costs hundreds of dollars a month just to keep me alive and is still the first to ask what he can do and how he can help. He has to take into account- all the sleepless nights in the hospital he would need to spend as I barely hang on to life. And he has to be my health advocate when I can’t voice it myself. He has to take into account that if my Crohn’s doesn’t stop flaring, I may never get to be the one thing I’ve always wanted to be- and that is a mother. He would have to keep in mind that his family legacy would die with me as his wife if I have to become barren because my body can’t handle a pregnancy, at least right now. And for him, he is ready and willing to do all of that. Because he really and truly loves me for me and nothing else.” You proudly proclaimed. 

“While I know for a fact, that you can’t cook, you have to eat out all the time when you’re not coming home to have a home cooked meal. You can’t even do your own dishes or laundry. That you hire a maid service to do it for you. How pathetic is that?! You want a second mother is what you want. A woman who will greet you at 5pm with a cocktail in her hand, when you choose to come home instead of going out with the guys after work- and that she will keep your house spotlessly clean, raise your family on her own and rub your feet while you complain about your tedious board meetings and then fuck you to sleep all while she looks picture perfect and never needs you to do anything other than bring your pecker to impregnate her and your paycheck to pay for it all. And that’s not what I want, and that’s not something I could ever give either.” You spat. 

“But otherwise- I do know my worth, as intelligent and yet profoundly broken and sick as I am.” You confessed as tears came to your eyes. 

“But your biggest objection shouldn’t be that I could have any guy I wanted. It should be the fact that it’s Kihro - who could have had any girl he wanted, easily. And yet he still chose me. He still chooses me. Every day. He’s young, smart, handsome, has a great career. And a handsome income to boot and is more than you’re estimating it to be. He is the youngest assistant manager at Wright Plumbing and the only one who still does field work on top of it- but is just as capable and just as successful as men twice his age, if not more so because he’s more friendly and shows more aptitude with technology than the others. His sales are as high as they are because he’s straight and honest with his customers and doesn’t oversell anything but if anything he makes sure that whatever solution to their problem he’s offering is something that doesn’t hurt their bank accounts or bottom lines or wipe out their savings. That’s why he’s one of the most sought after sales reps Wright Plumbing has. He could have had any girl he wanted. He could actually ask and receive the life I just described. But instead he's ready and willing to offer so much more.” You boasted. 

“And with all of that, he chose me and he did so- going into this with both eyes open and knowing exactly what he was getting himself into, and how much I am going to cost both financially, mentally and emotionally and he still gives all of it for me. And gives in an over abundance so that I want for nothing from him. And in turn he has made sure I come into this with both eyes open too. We love each other, and accept all of each other as perfectly imperfect as we and the other is. Period. We chose each other- before all else. Each and every time we can make that choice. And every bead he has gotten me has had more meaning than you could ever comprehend. And I do wear them- very proudly, when I can, and when I know I won’t be doing anything that would endanger them because each of them is incredibly precious to me. As are all the beads I’ve gotten him. And you want to know the first bead I got him- when I wanted to court him? I got him the hidden hero bead. The hero who sees the diamond in the rough and does everything he can to save the stone and see it even when everyone else doesn’t and will do heroic acts to keep it and protect it. And he wept when I gave it to him.” You proudly proclaimed. 

“He has shed more tears on my behalf out of fear for my life when my life hangs in the balance and by a thread in the hospital, than anyone else. Probably just as much as my family has. He’s incredibly sensitive and intuitive and he’s spiritual. He has prayed to every god and goddess who would listen for me to pull through. When I collapsed on the work site a couple years ago- it was him who dropped everything and ran to me and he was the first one to get to me. He was the one to pick me up and I woke up in his arms and he refused to let me go until the paramedics came and put me on that gurney himself as he braced my neck to make sure I didn’t have a spinal injury. He visited me in the hospital along with his whole family, while yours only sent flowers and a get well soon card. He made his own flower arrangement for me when he brought me flowers, and each flower had a meaning and a hidden message that I didn’t know about until after I dried them to save them out of sentimental value. And he got me a teddy bear and a hand written card for crying out loud.” You continued. 

“He has sacrificed so much for me. He has sacrificed sleep for me. He has sacrificed income for me, because he gets paid by the hour and by the job and by commission too. And when he has to take days off of work to stay with me in the hospital. He never leaves my side except when I have to get procedures done and he can’t come with me into the room where the equipment is. Do you really think a man who is that dedicated and that committed would ever be tempted to cheat on me? Do you really think a man as excellent as Kihro would ever do me the disrespect and dishonor of being unfaithful to me?! Let alone, ever bring me any kind of harm? Especially when all he has ever done is give me more than my due honor and dignity and respect? And protected me from wolves in sheep’s clothing like you.” You rhetorically asked him. 

“The answer is of course “No.” a ‘Hell no’ even.” You immediately answered. 

“He values my opinion over his own. He talks to me about every single decision we make. He knows my favorite orders at every restaurant we’ve ever gone to. You say you can spoil me like a princess. But what you mean is shower me with physical gifts because you can’t bother yourself with anything else. Things do not make up for quality time, true and genuine affection and love and quality time and true and honest and open communication, or acts of service and words of affirmation.” You dictated. 

“But the most amazing thing about Kihro- is he has never had to put others down to build himself up like you just did. And neither do I. Yeah I may have my opinions about other people. But they are just that- opinions formed and based on observations and interactions. And the reason you don’t hear him talking about me more is because he knows I like my privacy as does he. And so far- the only ones who have ever known that we have had a disagreement- which we never escalate into anything that resembles a fight- we talk it out, we find a compromise, we find a solution together. And more often than not- we consult the holy books and pray about it. And it isn’t until way after the fact that the only ones who hear about it, are either of our parents when we mention it casually and ask for advice about how to handle it better and how to improve our relationship and make it more stable and each other communicate better so that misunderstandings and disagreements are rarer in the future.” You revealed. 

“So yeah, I can see, from your perspective- how I might seem rather perfect, especially compared to your ex. But maybe instead of looking for a girl with the perfect body or boobs as big as basketballs- and a pretty face, you look for one with a good heart and a good soul. Because that’s what Kihro was looking for and found in me. And that’s what I was looking for in turn too and that’s what I have also found in Kihro too. And that’s all that really matters. Not money, not a lifestyle, not an image. But a real life, a happy one, a fulfilling one and an enriching one that doesn’t have to mean monetary wealth. Whether there are picture flashes notating it or not. Which you and I both know that pictures can be the biggest liars of them all depending on how they’re presented and framed. But this real- happy life that I am building with Kihro is one that I’m not going to trade for anything. And is something I will fight to the death keeping protected and safe and sacred as it is, because it’s a source of peace and happiness too for us both. The reason you never hear Kihro talking about it- is because we are both very fiercely protective of our privacy. And from what I’ve learned from those who work in our IT department- is anything that you share and give to the internet- no longer belongs to you- but belongs to the internet. Which is why we don’t post much of anything on social media. And while it can be a tool used for good- it can also be the tool of anyone’s undoing.” You explained. 

“So take your condo and your fancy car and your fancy job and offer it to a girl who wants it. Because I sure as hell don’t. But just don’t be surprised, when- if that’s all you can offer her, that’s all she’s interested in. But please know that now that I know this about you and know that you feel this way about me- I will never allow myself to be alone with you- not because I don’t trust myself but because I don’t trust you to keep your respectful distance and you will never be a client of mine in the future. So find someone else to install these window sensors or have one of the actual installers- do this on their own and double check your work to make sure it’s done right so you never have a reason to come back here. But your father and the rest of your family is of course, always welcome.” You advised him before you turned to see Kihro leaning against entry way, with his arms folded against his chest, quietly listening and had a proud, adoring and beaming smile on his face when he looked at you as he watched the exchange between you and Borug closely but kept his distance to let you get it all out.  

“Amen.” Kihro practically boomed which made Borug jump in his skin a little to know that he wasn’t all alone with you after all as you turned from Borug just shaking your head. 

“Excuse me Love, I need some air.” You said to Kihro as you gave him a meaningful look as you passed him and left the room to find all of his friends who were taking up space in the kitchen to listen closely to the exchange and happily parted to let you pass as you passed them with flushed cheeks as you excused yourself to get some fresh air outside while Akhi still kept recording. 

Borug tried to turn and work as his cheeks burned in turn before Kihro and his friends entered the room that Borug was in. 

“What?!” Borug demanded as he found himself surrounded. 

“Borug, get whatever you have to do- done as quickly as you can, and then see yourself out of my house. And bill me if you need to be paid for your time. Otherwise, don’t you ever try to make a pass or a move on my fiance and soon to be wife again. You are never to come to my house unless I’m here too and I never want you to be alone with Brie either because I don’t trust you to keep your professional personal distance either. But I will be billing you for the hole in my wall.” Kihro urged Borug before he left to come after you as his friends stayed behind to make sure Borug finished his work and did so correctly so he didn’t need to come back to redo it while Akhi ended the recording and then hastily went to find your dad and Borug’s dad just in time to see you stomping back to the back of the property where there was an abandoned garden bed in the corner of the yard and when they had seen you storm out of the house with flushed cheeks and tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Brie?! What’s wrong?” Your dad asked as he immediately left Draig’s side to come to you. 

“I can’t talk about it right now. Please, I just need a moment to regain my composure.” You pleaded before you could escape to the farthest corner of the house only to see Akhi coming out of the house. 

“Sweetie? What’s wrong?” Draig asked as he came over too. 

“Sir, please, I don’t mean any disrespect to you or your family, especially after all of your generous gifts and support which I can not begin to tell you how much Kihro and myself both appreciate- but can you please make sure your son Borug is never sent here to do any maintenance on the security system? I just…I don’t trust him because he just betrayed all the trust and faith I had in him…” You broke a sob. 

“But it’s not your fault and it’s not a reflection of you and your parenting or the rest of your family. But Borug had a severe lack of judgment, decency and decorum and said some horrible things and made some baseless accusations about me and my character and Kihro and his character that I refuse to stand for or tolerate it. Which is why I’m crying and so upset. So if you’ll both please excuse me, I just need some space to recollect myself and my thoughts and regain my composure before I lose my own temper and say things I can’t take back or won’t mean just because I’m upset right now.” You pleaded and didn’t wait for them to answer as Draig growled lowly. 

“I warned that boy. I’ll kill him if he dared to lay a hand on her.” Draig offered to your father. 

“George!” Akhi said as he flagged him over. 

“What’s going on?” Your dad asked worriedly. 

“This is why Brie’s upset. Draig, unfortunately, you should probably come over and see and hear this too.” Akhi urged before he hit play on the recording just as Kihro came out of the house and spotted you in the far corner and came over to you as you were aggressively weeding a particular flower bed in the farthest corner of the yard away from everyone else while Kelly was trying to lick your tears away and offer you comfort. 

“You ok?” Kihro asked as he kneeled in the grass with you to try to help. 

“Grace called it. I hate it that she saw this before I did. I should have seen this coming. I should have found any and every excuse to keep my distance from him but I thought he would and could be a professional about it. But no. Just another stupid infatuated idiot who thinks I’m perfect and a princess that needs to be pampered but kept locked in a tower. And I hate it.” You admitted as you pulled at the weeds barehanded with so much force, the dirt was flying all around you. 

“I’m angry and pissed off because Borug had the audacity to say something now of all times. At least all the other guys had the decency to say something after you asked me to the dance- in private. Several even hinted at it at school or even my graduation party but the moment you proposed and I very happily and enthusiastically said ‘yes’, I thought that would be the end of it. I thought I would get a break. But nope, we are literally moving you into our home and Borug tries this half ass, half cocked last ditch effort bullshit.” You snipped. 

“And what really pisses me off is he made the point of saying in his “offer” I didn’t have to work- twice, which means I wouldn’t be allowed to work. I wouldn’t have any control of finances, all he really wants is a second mother, a good wife to stay at home and keep the house clean and make dinner and have it on the table ready at 5 o’clock sharp and have a full face of makeup and listen to his day and rub his feet while he watches TV and then fucks him to sleep. All he expects to bring to a relationship is a penis and paycheck and that doesn’t cut it. And I realize that there are some women out there who are into that, and that’s fine, but that’s...just not for me.” You ranted as you used your shirt to wipe up your snot. 

“And I’m so happy and grateful I’m engaged to you and will be marrying you and living here and I can’t wait to make this place our home.” You professed. 

“I know. Me too.” Kihro offered. Because with your declarations to Borug, he had never been in more love with you than he was right now. 

“And what makes it especially awesome is you don’t let any of this toxic masculinity bullshit rule your life. You don’t expect me to be perfect. You never have and never will. You don’t expect me to do all the domestic chores. You know my stamina and energy changes by the day and sometimes by the hour. And that if you see something that needs to be done you just do it yourself. No prodding, no asking, no begging or pleading from me. You have never weaponized any incompetence. Instead you have done everything you can to be as competent as possible, in every aspect of your life. Which is really nice and wonderful and you can cook, and cook so well and clean up after yourself and we work so great in tandem and we work together so great and now that we have Financial Peace University- we don’t fight or argue about anything anymore. You give me better than what I feel I can give you most days.” You insisted as you simply slumped into his side and let him hold you as you held Kelly and pet her after you had pulled everything within reach. 

"And what really pisses me off is Borug isn't the only one who has said that bullshit to me. I don’t know how much you got to hear, but I’ve lost count of how many guys have said and done the exact same things, and they are all the brothers of Korryn and Grace’s friends. And I hate it. I hate it that you and your intentions get called into question as if theirs shouldn’t be. I hate it that according to all of them, I have this big grizzly bear for a dad that scares them all shitless, but the second you were brave enough to prove that he was just being a protective papa bear- they’ve all practically come out of the woodwork and all made these tales of how foolish I am to fall for the first guy to ask me out and marry the first boyfriend I’ve ever had just because I’ve been lucky enough to have the right one be the first one. And I’ve heard ‘you’re the gold standard for girlfriends and fiance’s’ more than I can count. But, while it’s nice to hear, it’s like they all put me on this super high pedestal of perfection, that I have enough from my father as it is. And then they’re disappointed when I’m not what they’ve built me up to be. And as much as I really can’t stand Korryn, I’m grateful she did all of us a service by showing the world just what kind of man-child Borug really was and how mean and spiteful he could really be. And now I’m no longer wondering why he never went out for too long with the other popular girls. Gods I hate self absorbed entitled pricks. And I’m so grateful and thankful that you’re not one of them.” You told Kihro as your anger and rage started to abate the more he held you and pet your head that he pulled to his chest after pulling you to sit across his lap and just gently rocked you to comfort you while you had Kelly in your lap too. 

“How come none of them can just see you as the amazing man I can?” You complained. 

“I don’t care if anyone else or no one else does. As long as you see that in me, I’ll do my best to live up to that. But your opinion is all I care about. Fuck everyone else.” Kihro grinned. 

“Shh, don’t say that too loud, not until everyone else is done doing their work. You can say that after they’ve all left.” You put your finger to his lips to keep him from saying that which only made him kiss the pad of your finger. 

“Ok.” Kihro agreed just as Draig finished watching the video and listened to the recording and thundered Borug’s full name which got Kihro to laugh. 

“Someone is about to get the beating of his life.” Kihro laughed. 

“But I didn’t…” You frowned. 

“I had Akhi and Tysh stay in your office and Akhi recorded the whole interaction you had with Borug and apparently, he just got done showing it to your Dad and Draig.” Kihro revealed with a proud smile. 

“Oh thank the gods, so it’s not my word against his.” You practically melted into him. 

“Nope, I took Grace’s advice to heart. There was no way I’d let that two faced fucker anywhere near you without another set of eyes and ears to bear witness. And now that you have Tysh, Akhi, that recording and me and all my real friends to back up your side of things of what really happened and what went down. Don’t worry about anything. Let Draig handle his own son from here. Hell his clan is about to practically kick him out for that stunt.” Kihro reassured you. 

“Gods I love you, thank you.” You cooed before you kissed him. 

“Love you too. Come on, I want you to tell me what else I can do to that chicken coop to make it perfect for you.” He offered as you managed to pull yourself together. before Draig came over. 

“Brie, I just want to formally…” Draig said before you left Kihro to hug him. 

“It’s ok. Like I said, his lapse in judgment is not a reflection of you and your family. This doesn’t change anything between you and the rest of your family and me and the rest of mine. It would still be a pleasure to have Lottie be a bridesmaid of mine since it was her that helped me learn about beads and their intricate history and traditions in the first place. And I would have been so lost without her help and guidance and helping me find the perfect beads for Kihro so that they could mean what I needed them to mean. And I really hope that this doesn’t cause a rift between our two families otherwise. Grace warned me that he may have had a crush on me because he would always compare Korryn with me. But I thought that seeing as how I’m engaged that he would have let it go and abandoned it or at least wouldn’t have brought it up or could have waited for any other more appropriate time to tell me about it, preferably before I was courting Kihro and definitely before I was engaged to him. Of course you and the rest of your family are still invited to the wedding and I can’t begin to tell you how grateful and appreciative we are for all of your generosity and your support. All I can think of to excuse his behavior is perhaps it was a reflection of his friends and most likely his ex. She may have had a very bad influence on him, as I’m sure you heard from my recording of what I personally think about her. But she is still my sister’s friend and I don’t wish to get between my sister and her friends, no matter what I may personally think about them.” You offered as you could feel Draig relax and breathe a sigh of relief as he hugged you back. 

“Well you were not wrong about Korryn at all. I too have the same opinion about her that you do. So we have that- at the very least- in common. And there was nothing inaccurate about anything you said about anyone, including my son Borug. Who still needs to learn a few more life lessons it seems. Thank you for handling this the way you did, with grace and with class and with discretion. Don’t worry about Borug because he’s about to find himself across the country into a college and you shouldn’t be seeing him for at least another four years. And hopefully by then, he will have grown up and into something other than what he is right now.” He offered. 

“Me too. Thank you for understanding.” You thanked him. 

“You’re welcome. But he was right about one thing. You are and always will be an excellent woman and at least to me, you do set an excellent example worthy of imitation. And I trust Kihro to always keep that in mind as he continues to share his life with you. I’m sure you’ll make this house into a wonderful home and I’m honored that you’ve entrusted me and my company to keep it safe.” He offered before he let go. 

“Kihro, always a pleasure to do business with you. We’ll finish up shortly and be out of your hair and I’ll make sure that hole is fixed to your satisfaction.” He reassured him as he shook Kihro’s hand as Kihro graciously smiled and shook his hand. 

“Thanks again.” Kihro offered before Draig excused himself to get his other installers to finish where Borug left off and triple checked to make sure everything was perfect before he drove his truck- which Borug was currently locked into- back home and was so angry- he was silent as he wanted to scream several thousand things at his son all at the same time. 

“I’m sorry Dad.” Borug finally said because his father refused to look at him and was currently speeding to their family home with his face set into an angry glare out of the windshield as Borug could feel his father’s fury roll off of him in waves as he cowered in his seat as far away as he could. 

“Me too. I’m sorry I fathered and raised such a dishonorable, disrespectful, good for nothing son who isn’t even worthy to breathe the same air as the woman he just deeply offended and disrespected.” Draig answered with a forced calm but felt worse than any physical strike he could to his son. 

“But I just couldn’t stand by while she…” Borug began to excuse as Draig growled dangerously. 

“Save your breath! I don’t care what reasons you have! Brianna is grown up enough to make her own decisions about her life and she chose to be engaged. She’s wearing the beads and the ring. She is beyond spoken for and promised and committed and trying to “tempt her away” and to even hint at eloping with you- is only a sign of your own dishonor and your own severe lack of moral character. You had absolutely no right to say anything to her about your feelings towards her- that you didn’t even share with me. Because if I had known sooner, I could have helped sooner before Kihro ever worked up the courage to say anything in the first place. But if I also would have known them this morning, I never would have brought you so you wouldn’t have been tempted beyond what you could bear by keeping your big mouth shut. There is a time to speak and a time to keep quiet and today was a time to keep quiet about this. But the fact of the matter is- is she’s made her choice. And we will respect it. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you crossed the line and betrayed our trust in you to the point that she told you she no longer trusts you to be alone with her and had you truly been alone, I don’t want to think of the damage you could have caused if you had laid a hand on her when you had already punched a hole into her wall, which is something only the weak minded do, and the weak minded have no place in my family and in my clan. I’m just grateful that she didn’t give you a chance to do more. And the only other possible way this could have been worse is if you did this while she was in a temple in her wedding dress and about to walk down the aisle. But that is never going to happen because you will not be attending her wedding. You are coming home tonight and for the rest of the week. I’m going to send your siblings to pack everything up in your condo and you’re moving out of the condo and I’m selling it since I bought it and my name is on it and you will not be getting a single penny from it.” Draig firmly dictated in a tone Borug knew he would be gambling with his own life if he tried to argue with. 

“I’m sending you to the west coast. I don’t care if I have to enroll you into the worst community college in the country, but you will live on campus and you are not welcome home until you have graduated with your degree in hand and then if you can prove yourself, you can start to work for the company, but you are going to work from the bottom up and earn your way the same way Kihro has with absolutely no favoritism or nepotism to help you. What you currently have in your bank account is all the money you will get from me from now- until you graduate with a degree. Which means you are going to have to get a real job. And no- you can not use your experience with our company on your resume because if you do- I will not give you a good review or recommendation. You will not be taking the car I paid for either since I paid for it, that too will be sold off and you will not get a penny from that either. You’ll be lucky if you get to go into fast food to help you pay for college. You are never to contact either Brianna or Kihro or anyone else in either of their family or their friend circle. And I swear if you breathe a word of this to anyone- in any kind of effort to gain sympathy or empathy or heaven forbid- pity- you will feel the full force of my wrath with the full backing of the clan behind it because I will replay that recording to the entire clan if I need to as proof of your dishonor since it has already been sent to me. I will call the entire clan together tonight to play it and have you stripped of all clan ties if you resist this discipline. And you will be cast off from the clan and the family if need be.” Draig rumbled dangerously as Borug shuddered in terror at the thought as tears blurred his own vision. 

“I have made your life easy, way too easy. That was my mistake and one that I will never repeat. I swear Borug- if you push this or fight this, I will make your life harder than you can imagine. You will not step foot on Brianna’s property without both Mr. Kihro Soche’s permission and Mrs. Brianna Soche’s permission because she will be married and most likely be a mother by the time you get to see her again. Which- in all reality- you will probably never receive. I’ve assigned my best employee to their case. And they will be getting our premier everything for life. And they will not be paying me a penny for any of it over what you just did.” Draig snarled dangerously. 

“You brought shame to more than just yourself, but you brought shame to me and our family, to our company and our clan. When we get home, you will go to what used to be your room and pack up what you have there. I will pick out a college for you and enroll you into said college and you’ll be gone by the end of the week- if not sooner. I will buy you a one way ticket and I will ship your shit to you when you can tell me what dorm room you’re going to be moving into. And then the only communication I want from you- is how well you’re doing in school. You will never get another penny from either me or your mother or any other member of our family and definitely never another penny from my company.” Draig declared. 

“Also, I’m giving the office you used to inhabit to someone who has earned it. And I’m firing that shit secretary you hired. You don’t get to post anything about any of this on social media. In fact, you’re going to give me your phone and all your passwords to all your social media accounts and I’m shutting them down and turning them off. And you’re going to give me your wallet without taking a single thing out of it first. Because I’m taking and freezing your credit cards which you are still on the hook to pay off but can not use to buy anything or rack up any more debt and you will not be getting any more credit cards either because I can track that too. You will learn how to budget and live from paycheck to paycheck like everyone else. Don’t you dare try to make yourself out to be the victim here. You’re going to be learning invaluable life lessons and you will learn them the hardest way possible if you need to.” Draig demanded as he held out his hand as Borug handed over his phone and his wallet to his father before he put both of them into his own pocket. 

“Also I want every bead you’ve ever gotten to be left with me. I don’t want any other girl, orc or otherwise to look at them and see things that aren’t there. Or that they reflect a person that you are not.” Draig demanded as he held out his hand again before Borug- tearfully got the beads out of his hair and handed them over to his father as his father pocketed those too into his shirt pocket. 

“Words can not describe the depths of my shame and embarrassment. Neither can they describe the fury I feel that you would dishonor us by dishonoring Brie and to an extent her family and her fiance and his family. And all that money that will be coming from the sale of that condo and that car- will go towards Brie’s medical care so that Kihro’s burden of caring for Brie and her complicated and delicate health isn’t a burden for him either. Kihro is a hundred times the man I thought he was this morning- now that I know what he does for her and has been doing for her behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. And Brie could not have chosen a better man to call her husband as much as Kihro could not have chosen a better woman to call his wife. And I have no doubt that while their life may not be as lavish and luxurious as I’m sure I would have hoped it could be. If it’s one that they both happily choose, they will get my full support for it nonetheless. And I will hope and pray for their happiness and success. While I can only hope you can escape my vengeful wrath who is currently asking for your head on a spike.” Draig insisted before he drove into his own driveway and Borug bolted for the house and ran upstairs. 

“What happened?” Draig’s wife Odulla asked as she watched her son run up the stairs with tears running down his face and the single braid that usually kept his beads on- behind him unraveling with every step he took. 

“Come into the office with me. We need to discuss what to do with Borug.” Draig said which made Odella stand up straighter as the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood up at his tone while her eyes got wide. 

“What did he do?” She asked worriedly. 

“That boy dishonored us today.” Draig began before he pulled his wife into the office and told her about what happened and how the whole thing was recorded and then played the recording for her, and then told her how you had reacted and handled it and reassured Draig that he and the rest of his family were still on good terms despite Borug’s lapse in judgment as Odella tearfully heard it and felt her own temper flare towards her son. 

“I agree with everything Draig. At least he didn’t put his hands on her. That would have been truly disastrous. We did make it too easy for him. That ungrateful leech deserves whatever hell you deem appropriate Dear. I’m going to go upstairs and get his passwords, even if I have to beat them out of him with my wooden spoon.” She insisted as she got up out of the chair and went to the kitchen to grab the spoon in question and marched upstairs to give her son a piece of her mind too. All while she ordered her other children to do as Draig had wanted- which was to clean out Borug’s condo and contacted the maid to clean it so they could sell it once her other children were done as they realized that if Borug had fucked up enough to get both of their parents on the warpath as Odulla let her anger vent as Borug had to lay over a chair and get spanked, like he was a little kid again before she wore herself out and Draig was relieved his other children had fled the house before he got to come in and use his own belt on Borug too. 

Meanwhile your father had gotten back to you and hugged you and asked you to give him that list of every other guy who had done what Borug just did which Kihro was happy to pull up on his phone since he had been keeping track of it himself. 

“Why do you want to know?” You asked your dad. 

“To make sure they don’t make it to your wedding guest list and never make it onto Wright Plumbing’s payroll.” Your father answered as he wrote them all down on and then folded the paper and put it into his pocket with a reassuring grin. 

“Please don’t un-invite Draig and Odella or the rest of their family. Borug wasn’t always like this. But it’s not like Korryn brought out the best in him either. Quite the opposite, actually.” You pleaded. 

“Oh of course not. This won’t put a wedge between us. I mean Borug’s sister is a bride’s maid of yours. All this does is mean is that Borug won’t get within five hundred feet of you without your full and free consent after he’s gotten your forgiveness which you are not owed to give out- especially any time soon since I doubt he’s allowed to make any contact with you from now until the next oh- four a five years or so.” Your dad estimated. 

“I just don’t understand how he could…now of all times.” You shook your head in confusion. 

“Guys will say really stupid things when they think no one else is listening.” Your dad readily excused. 

“But, I’m really proud of you for standing your ground and speaking your mind. You held your ground and you didn’t cower when he lost his temper. I’m glad he didn’t put his hands on you. But I’m really proud of you for using your words instead of your hands on him too.” Your father urged. 

“Yeah, like I can pack a punch.” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, but you and Zara have been learning massage together and that Vahva Kun technique. With only a few touches you could have reduced him to a pile of shit on the floor. And he would have been too heavy for all of us to pick up and put in his dad’s truck.” Your dad shrugged. 

“I’m not that good with it. Zara’s practically a professional with that technique. I’m better with trigger point.” You offered. 

“But still, you showed restraint. I’m proud of you for handling that the way you did. It was the right way to do it.” He praised as he gave you another hug. 

“Thanks.” You thanked him. 

“How about you head to Sam’s pick up some packs of steaks and grill em for everyone?” He suggested before he pressed his Sam’s card into your hand. 

“Get whatever you want hun. We got it from here.” He urged you. 

“Ok.” You nodded before you walked hand in hand with Kihro to his truck to drive to Sam’s and get what you wanted and needed.

[littlecarnet]

For @starblue2406

Here are a few things I'll eat in a day. I typically don't eat a big breakfast, but I will have a big lunch. Dinners in my family are late, usually 6pm to 8pm, we typically walk after dinner, then I'll drink tea to relax before bed.

You'll probably notice a lack of beef and pork, I have trouble digesting them, so it's mostly chicken and seafood. My family also don't eat a lot of bread, it's treated more like a side than a meal.

And yeah, there's a quite a mix of cultures here. My mom's side is Greek/Egypt with Turkish influences from her great grandfather, my dad is Native American with some adopted local New Mexico flavors. Since I was originally born and raised by the ocean, seafood and sea vegetables are a big thing in my diet. They're hard to find in the southwest, but I crave them and they keep me healthy as I have low blood pressure, so I need a bit of healthy salt.

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

Things I'll have for breakfast:

Apple cider vinegar mixed with honey or a fruit juice, usually pomegranate juice. Gets my digestive system prepped.

Oatmeal with dates, pumpkin seeds, and seasonal fruit.

Fresh fruit or fruit jelly with yogurt. I like Greek yogurt as it's more creamy and filling.

Seaweed soup with green onions or salmon

Kefir a type of strong yogurt drink

Crepe with fruit, pine nuts and honey

Omelet with spinach or dandelion greens

Eggs boiled in black tea and star anise

Shakshuka eggs with tomato and spices

Salmon with fried eggs

Fresh tilapia corn taco

Fruit smoothies

Green tea

Yerba mate

Lunch:

A Flatbread wrap with either chicken or falafel, lettuce, feta, red onion or tomato topped with tzatziki or Tahiti

Sardines with tomato pesto on ciabatta

Basmati rice with chicken or fish with garlic, oregano, basil

Tuna with red onion and chopped mozzarella

A salad made of lightly pickled cucumber and lato (sea grapes)

Rice soup - Made with leftover tea, seaweed, sesame seeds, fish

Baby octopus with chopped tomatoes, red onion, and oregano -

Dolma - Grape leaves stuffed with spiced rice and a meat then steamed, cabbage leaves are sometimes used instead

Ta'meya or Falafel - ground chickpeas or lentils mixed with spices and fried into rounds, topped with tzatziki or hummus

Grilled cheese with strawberry and sage

Jellyfish salad with sweet vinegar and red chili

Steamed cactus pads with watermelon rind

Blue corn bread with sweet corn

Fish cakes in a crab broth with five spice seasoning

Ful medames

Peel and eat shrimp

Mussels on ice

Shawarma

Dinner:

Grilled chicken with mixed vegetables like cherry tomatoes

Vegetable bake with seasonal vegetables

Eggplant lasagna with feta and sliced tomatoes

Cioppino - Seafood in a rich tomato broth

Risotto rice with mushroom

Shrimp with feta and tomatoes

Grilled catfish with spices

Mussels in butter and garlic

Seafood in spiced yellow rice

Crab cakes in scallop shells

Three Sisters soup - Corn, beans, squash

Spinach and cheese stuffed pastries

Squash and corn simmered in milk with pepper, garlic, and saffron

Pumpkin soup with garlic, apple, and sweet potato

Tuna steak with cranberries and feta

Zucchini stuffed with herbed rice and baked

Sayadeya - Fried fish with red onions on rice spiced with cinnamon, turmeric, and ginger

Venison chili beans

Fry bread tacos

Kushari

Chicken livers and hearts

Wild rice with elderberry and morel mushrooms

Lumpias - Like a large egg roll

Wild rice with sweet potato, pumpkin, and cranberry

Snow fungus soup with chicken bone broth

Chicken herb soup - chicken boiled with red dates, wild yam, astragalus, goji

Grilled chicken with butternut squash sweet potatoes

Mixed bean soup with chicken bone broth

Sweet and sour bitter melon soup

Between meals:

Tea with milk

Lots of different nuts

Dried fruit like dates and figs

Fresh fruit with a bit of sweet condensed milk

Jerky turkey or venison

Pickled sweet vegetables

Bruschetta with crackers

Fresh figs with goat cheese

Olives stuffed with cheese

Seaweed salad

Squid jerky

Horned melon

Naan with olive oil

Fried sardines in honey

Mushroom chips

Sweet potato chips

Crispy baby crabs

Fried sage leaves

Prosciutto

Frozen grapes

Zabladi

Cactus fruit

Quail eggs

Snap peas

Drinks:

Grape juice

Pomegranate juice

Hibiscus tea

Mint tea

Ginger tea

Anise tea

Yuzu tea

Rose petal tea

Barley tea

Flowering tea

Mountain herb tea

Water infused with fresh lemongrass and fennel

Water with basil seeds with honey

Roasted milk tea

Yerba mate

Corn silk tea

Rice milk with cinnamon and cardamom

Desserts:

Yogurt with honey and mixed fruit either frozen or seasonal

Chia pudding with peanut butter or rose petal jelly

Italian soda with sugar-free syrups of either rosewater, lavender, peach, or strawberry

Iced coffee with cacao nibs

Chocolate dipped fruit

Gelatins

Anise cookies

Amaretto biscuits

Honey comb

Baklava

Grass jelly with milk

Coconut milk pudding

Rose or pistachio halva

Sweet potato with ice cream

Snow fungus with fruit and rock sugar

Khoshaf - A dessert made of dried fruits simmered with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves

Lazy meals:

A typical salad

Frozen vegetables popped into a microwave and served with ready cooked shrimp or a can of sardines in tomato

Pumpkin puree in a can mixed with garlic, pepper, and milk pop into microwave

Jellyfish salad with pickled vegetables and sweet chili sauce

Thin crust pizza made from a pita with tomato, cheese, and Italian seasoning

Spinach or dandelion greens omelet with cheese

Rice soup - made with tea, fish, seaweed, and green onion

Sweet potato with toppings of choice

Baked potato with peanut butter and crab paste

Wonton wrappers stuffed with cream cheese and fried

Chestnut rice - Rice with chopped chestnuts

Chopped apples with cinnamon and honey in the microwave

Bread pudding - day old bread, fruit of choice, egg, milk pop in microwave until egg is cooked

Rice pudding - cooked rice, milk, cardamom, cinnamon, and dried chopped fruit

[queerworldtravelers]

Lodi, California

38° 07' 48" N, -121° 16' 20" W

Home is where your heart is and for us our heart in the San Joaquin Valley is at Maria’s. We met Maria and her family on the heels of the pandemic. She has a vacation rental right down the street from Mary’s mom and her place is heaven on earth. Everytime we visit Mary’s family we also visit the Loducas! This year Papa Loduca turned 90 and we were invited to help capture some living history. 

The adventure from San Jose across the Altamont Pass to the oasis in Lodi is harrowing to say the least. Walking through the door of the Garden Faire Cottage is always a welcome respite from the jammed lanes of semi trucks moving Amazon goods and America’s food supply, but this time was incredible! The cottage was stocked with epic good eats and our hearts were bursting at the seams! 

It was also harvest season in the Valley and fresh veggies and fruit were everywhere! A peach tree hung her tired arms in the alley by the house, grapes and almonds were being harvested, the garden was full of eggplants and green peppers, and no one could eat enough figs or tomatoes. 

Speaking of tomatoes, a variety that Papa Loduca himself transported in his younger years as a tomato sauce hauler were available in bumper crops at the local farm stand: The Fruit Bowl. On a late afternoon adventure we made it just before they closed, but not before the sandwich making operation had shuttered for the day. On the picnic table outside of the shop Maria made us hand-crafted (literally) tomato sandwiches and they were to die for.

We made several trips to the Fruit Bowl and one adventure put us directly in the path of an estate sale in a stunning old Victorian farmhouse. Maria flipped an energetic u-turn and we meandered through the collection of folks who are no longer around. It made us grateful that everything we own fits in a 40L backpack. It is frightening to imagine that someday everything can be splayed out for strangers to come and rummage through. Great treasures abounded and now we know where Maria gets ALL of the amazing stuff in the cottage!

September also marked Mary’s birthday and we were able to put on a really wonderful *not* birthday party with her childhood friends and family. We had an absolutely glorious potluck with TWO birthday cakes, butter chicken, chicken adobo, pancit, and a billion focaccia breads adorned with garden vegetables. Guests included a family of guys who are generational iron workers and cat lovers. Krystal laughed so hard she was often in tears.

Days were also needed for operation Little Sissy. Navigating college as a first generation student is a wild west adventure fraught with haphazard instructions and unclear consequences. We loaded up and spent the day in Sacramento to clear up some undue confusion. We started with a reward: a visit to the Crocker Art Museum to see the Estampas de la Raza show. It was epic. We then spent several hours at the Sacramento State University Campus attempting to make sense of transferring. Krystal channeled her days as a high school advisor and we didn’t leave until we felt clear about next steps.

After a day in the admission office and financial aid whirlwinds we all needed a drink! Good thing we were driving home through wine country! We stopped at the Oak Farm Vineyard and shared a really lovely rosé next to the bocce ball court.

Towards the end of our time the big 90th birthday party was on the horizon. Maria and her family are descended from a family of Sicilians who call a small town just to the west of Palermo home. Maria and Krystal could be related and are definitely kindred sisters. In fact, Maria is the reason we know about Italian Dual Citizenship in the first place. Meeting the rest of the family felt like going to our own family reunion. It was an absolute blast filled with everything one would expect from a family function: great food, even better gossip, and laughing so much it made our cheeks hurt.

Happy birthday Papa Loduca. Thank you for inspiring us to have the right-sized dreams.

We are beyond grateful for our Lodi home. It is here where we learned of the importance of drinking your espresso with panna (whipped cream) and truly embracing the good days because the bad days will always be there too.

[shinyglaceonice]

Name: Amelia Fey

Date Of Birth: Estimated around the beginning of October, as she was found and adopted when she was roughly six months old

House: Ravenclaw

Blood Status: Unknown

Patronus: Peahen

Siblings: No known blood siblings, but she regards Darren and Koran, two boys she grew up with, as her older brothers.

Parents: Unknown (as she knows) in regards to her birth parents. Her adoptive mothers, Isabella Fey and Rosalyne Cartwell, a metamorphmagus, found her and took her in after rescuing a village from a horde of Inferi. They both met in Hogwarts, with Isabella being in Slytherin and Rosa being in Hufflepuff. Rosa's family was adamant on keeping their pureblood status, desperate to be regarded as good as the long standing families such as the Black's and the Lestrange's. Rosa wanted to break away, not wanting to continue the madness of falling in love for blood purity. She befriended Isabella during their second year in Hogwarts, where the Slytherin girl punched a Gryffindor who was keeping a book Rosa needed out of reach. Since then, the two girls spent most of their time together, building up a friend group and eventually founding the Parandus Travelling Performance Troupe, made up of outcasts and those left behind who have a talent for performing. Rosa left her family name behind, falling in love with Isabella and confessing to her during their sixth year when the two had a heart to heart whilst star gazing.

Upbringing: Amelia has lived a life on the road, travelling from town to town with the rest of the troupe, never staying in one place. Over the years, the troupe picked up more members, and with little else to do on the road other then talk and practice for their next performance, Amelia picked up an interesting selection of skills. She can play Acoustic Guitar, Flute and Piano, knows the basic rules of Texas Hold Em, knows a wide variety of sea shanties, can fire dance, cook some basic dishes, has basic self defense knowledge and can sing comfortably.

As a result of life on the road however, she has found it hard to develop friends with those her age. When interacting with others in the towns they perform in, she always finds she doesn't know what to say, often relying on the other members of the troupe to talk to the public.

When Darren and Koran, two boys who were rescued three years before they found Amelia, got their Hogwarts letters, Amelia dreamed of the day she would get hers. But as time went on, she never did, and resigned herself to a life on the road. Until the day she made her aunt Agatha's chickens float, and Eleazar Fig took the late blooming witch under his wing.

Personality - Helpful, polite and earnest, she wants to make people happy, whether it being through entertaining them or by helping them with work. She also has a love of learning, tearing through any books she gets her hands on, and fully believes in the saying that knowledge is power - which causes her to get into more trouble then she would otherwise.

Quidditch: Tries out in sixth year, becomes the Seeker. Matches against Slytherin are always interesting, with her and Imelda's rivalry being well known.

Likes - Reading, tea, performing and exploring

Dislikes - Inferi, spiders, insects, personal failure

- I do have a fic in progress for her - Amelia Fey's Guide To Hunting Dragons

HOGWARTS LEGACY PLAYERS SHOW ME YOUR MC!

(List of Character information will be given below)

Meet Aurora Crystaldream 🔮

Full name : Aurora Celastrina Elva Crystaldream

Blood status : Pure-blood, noble family

Hogwarts House : Ravenclaw

Birthdate : 12th December 1875

MBTI Personality : ENFJ

Patronus : Butterfly

Sibling/s : Yes, a younger brother named Axel

Parents name : Gwydion and Alvyna Crystaldream

Pets : Willow the Owl and Pumpkin the Ginger Cat

Does your mc play Quidditch? : Yes, seeker

Likes : Painting, reading, playing the piano, duelling, strawberry shortcakes, Quidditch and Sebastian

Dislikes : Being pushed around(especially her father)and Imelda Reyes

[michaelgbrown]

Brisbane, Friday 12 August

Well Brisbane seemed a bit chilly as our taxi drove us from the airport to home. Vancouver was quite warm most days so I guess living in sub tropical city one expects warm as well. Anyway it’s still good to be home. No doubt Zero will be happy too.

We started our last day in Vancouver, Wednesday, visiting our favourite upmarket cafe, Cafe Artigiano, where the manager gave use a cheery greeting, no doubt thinking we are now regulars, so we kept quiet about our impending departure. Today I had a croissant with a Brie and Fig filling, which was very tasty and nicely toasted, washed down with a medium Americano, while Bernie had a ham and cheese croissant and a small flat white.

Meeting up with the Cons we hiked to the Pacific Central shopping centre so Bernie could find Madeline a gift from Canada. So busy shopping for Maddie we’re we that we forgot to get Hugo’s birthday present, which will now have to be mailed to Toronto. But at least I finally saw a beaver before departure.

By now it was lunchtime upon which we hiked to a nice swanky sandwich cafe , Cafe Giovane, situated in the Fairmont Pacific Rim. Aaron took the two grandkids to Gastown where they wanted to eat spaghetti which is sold by a cafe down there, so off they hiked. Rose, Bernie and I had a swanky sandwich washed down by a nice ginger beer for me, and I was so busy eating I didn’t see what the girls were drinking.

Back to our hotel and it was time to escort the Cons to their taxi as they were off home to Toronto and really looking forward to their four hour flight. While we were sad to have our journey ending we realised that we ‘shouldn’t be sad it’s over, but glad it happened.’

Bernie and I had a late check out and got a taxi at 1830h which only took 30 minutes to the Vancouver International departures area. Inside we quickly proceeded through checkin, bag drop, security then customs. Bernie shopped for several boxes of Canadian Maple Biscuits which have become her favourite (hidden now safety in our house) in case anyones visiting. We then went to have a dinner snack in a nice airport cafe. I ordered a Blue Canadian beer or two, for which I have developed a liking, and Bernie an 8oz glass of Chardonnay. This allowed us to wash down crab cakes and tempura king prawns with Canadian naturally cut fries. This was a tasty way of finding happiness after the sadness of saying farewell to the Cons, and our luxury lodgings in Vancouver.

The flight home seem quick taking off at 2300h they served a dinner which was tasty, then out went the lights and next I knew we were 6 hours into the flight and getting our six hours into the flight snack, which was a nicely made chicken sandwich, some biscuits and apple juice. Then off went the lights again and I slept until what was 0800h Vancouver time, or about 4am Brisbane. I noticed as well that my spouse seem to get a good sleep as well.

Before we knew it the lights of Redcliffe appeared out the starboard side window and we touchdown into a Brisbane chilly dawn (18oC) at 5:50 am. We got thru immigration quickly and after a short wait our bags appeared in carousel 7. We then joined the customs line and were directed to the exit, as we had nothing to declare and unfortunately weren’t carrying over $10k in cash.

So ends our second Canadian adventure. Vancouver is a great place to visit and well worth placing on one’s agenda.

We’ve stating planning our next trip to …. maybe ….. Norway……

[the1312daysofchristmas]

hi dils! i’ve got a story for you

so my parents have these two giant fig trees in their backyard and there’s a box turtle that comes after the figs sometimes and my brother feeds him figs right? so i saw him in the back yard the other day and i wanted to get a picture of him but when i went out i didn’t realize he had brought a ladyfriend with him and long story short i accidentally interrupted a couple of box turtles having sex under a fig tree

how scandalous!!!!! how voyeuristic!!!

in the vein of stories about the wonders of nature yesterday i saw what i think was a chicken hawk (it was definitely a raptor but im not entirely sure which species of raptor we have here in slu) taking a dust bath on my walk from the main road to my godmothers house. i tried to take a video but as soon as i got my phone out and focused on him he flew away :(

ALSO in the vein of the wonders of nature re: animals fucking one time when i was like 8 i went outside and i saw what looked to me like a giant fly, like late carboniferous gigantic, and naturally i immediatelt ran inside to tell my family about the huge fly i saw floundering in the yard. oldest sister was like. thats absurd. and went outside and was like its actually a hummingbird and i think its hurt. so she goes to check on the hummingbird and finds out its actually 2 hummingbirds and they were going at it and they werent happy to be interrupted. and they chased her a bit.

and on the topic of hummingbirds a hummingbird got trapped in my house today and it was flying for so long it exhausted itself and almost got eaten by my cat but i managed to give it a place to rest on my finger (once it finally landed on a table) and then let it go so as far as i know as of this morning the hummingbird is fine.

[scarletarosa]

Dionysus

Greek god of madness, wine, vegetation, fruitfulness, virility, pleasure, festivity, frenzy, and theatre

Dionysus (also known as Bacchus and Liber) is the chaotic god who roams the wilds and indulges in the sensations which life has to offer. He is the inventor of wine and the one who inspires others to free themselves from their chains; leading them away into ecstatic freedom. Dionysus' sacred animals are the leopard, panther, bull, and serpent. Leopards/panthers were sacred to Dionysus due to their wild and often chaotic natures whereas bulls and serpents were sacred due to them representing male fertility. The god was said to ride on the back of a panther or drive a chariot drawn by a pair of them. His sacred plants are the grapevine, ivy, bindweed (prickly ivy) and pine tree. Devotees of the god wore wreaths of ivy and carried pine-cone tipped staffs.

Epithets: Ælefthæréfs (the liberator), Ærívromos (loud-roaring), Agnós (holy and pure), Ágrios (wild/savage), Ánax (lord; king), Aigovólos (goat-slayer), Anthéfs (blooming; crowned with flowers), Áreios (war-like), Chrysopes (golden faced), Corniger (the horned one), Dasýllios (wanderer of the woods), Dændrítis (lord of trees), Diphÿís (of dual nature), Ebon (youthful), Efkarpos (the fruitful), Efklayes (glorious), Elelikhthon (earth-shaking), Ephaptor (the caresser), Erivremetes (loud-thundering), Eucheus (pouring freely [of wine]), Evantís (decked with flowers), Evvouléfs (of good counsel), Hyes (lord of fertilizing moisture), Igiates (the healer), Kharidóhtis (joy-giver), Kissós (of ivy), Krýphios (the hidden one).

Dionysus was usually depicted as a handsome, long-haired young man who was usually clothed in a long robe (chiton) and cloak (himation) and crowned with a wreath of ivy-leaves. In some depictions, the god is shown with bull horns on his head. His attributes included the thyrsos (a pine-cone tipped staff), a drinking cup, and a crown of ivy. He was usually accompanied by a troop of Satyrs (goat-men of virility) and Maenades (wild female devotees). During his festivals, Dionysus was said to rush through the woods with the Maenads and tear apart wild animals with frenzic glee while also having drunken orgies with each other. He is also called both by Greeks and Romans as Bacchus (Bakchos), that is, the noisy or riotous god, which was originally a mere epithet of Dionysus. 

As far as the nature and origin of the god Dionysus is concerned, he appears in all traditions as the embodiment of chaotic power in nature, whereas Apollo is mainly a refined deity. Dionysus is the productive, overflowing, and intoxicating power of nature, which carries humans away from their usual quiet and sober mode of living. Wine is the most natural and appropriate symbol of that power, and it is therefore called "the fruit of Dionysus". Dionysus is, therefore, the god of wine; the inventor and teacher of its cultivation, the giver of joy, and the disperser of grief and sorrow. Though he also represents both effects of wine- the ecstatic blissful side, as well as the violent, maddening side. He is of the bright, joyous Sun as well as the maddening and unknowable Moon.  

Mythology: In myth, Dionysus was said to be the son of Zeus and the princess Semele of Thebes. During the course of her pregnancy, Zeus’ wife, Hera, tricked Semele into asking Zeus to appear before her in his full glory. Bound by oath, the god was forced to comply and she was consumed by the heat of his lightning-bolts. Zeus recovered their unborn child from her body, sewed him up in his own thigh, and carried him to term. After Dionysus’ birth from the thigh of Zeus, Dionysus was first entrusted to the care of Seilenos (Silenus) and the nymphs of Mount Nysa, and later to his aunt Ino, Semele's sister, and her husband Athamas. Some versions say Zeus instead entrusted him to Hermes, or to Persephone or Rhea. Hera was now urged on by her jealousy to throw Ino and Athamas into a state of madness, who then killed both of their children and themselves. Zeus, in order to save his child, changed him into a ram, and carried him to the nymphs of mount Nysa, who brought him up in a cave, and were afterwards rewarded for it by Zeus, by being placed as Hyades among the stars.  

During Dionysus’ young adulthood, he traveled the lands- teaching people of wine and of his divinity. The Thrakian king Lykourgos attacked Dionysus and his companions as they were travelling through his land and drove them into the sea. As punishment, the god inflicted him with madness causing him to murder his wife and son and then mutilate himself with an axe. King Pentheus of Thebes refused to accept the god's divinity and tried to apprehend him. Dionysus retaliated by driving the king's daughters into a crazed frenzy and they tore him apart limb from limb. As Dionysus was travelling through the islands of the Aegean Sea, he was captured by a band of Tyrrhenian pirates who planned to sell him into slavery. The god, however, could not be shackled or tied down; the bindings slipped away from him each time as Dionysus simply smiled. He then changed the mast and oars into serpents, and himself into a panther; he filled the vessel with creeping vines of ivy and the sound of flutes, so that the pirates, who were seized with madness, leaped into the sea, where they were transformed into dolphins. 

Appearance: Dionysus is a tall, attractive man in his late 30’s with long, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, strong facial features, and fair skin. He typically wears a white Greek robe with sandals and adorns his hair with ivy. He tends to be rather alluring in his appearance and basically looks how an ancient Greek male model would appear.  

Personality: In my experiences with Dionysus, he is very outgoing, charming, creative, flirtatious, laid-back, and can be impulsive. He loves all forms of pleasure, especially wine and sex. Dionysus has stated that he usually likes to go around seducing women, but also likes to seduce effeminate men since he enjoys dominating them. In his good-natured mood, Dionysus is friendly, jovial, and charismatic; welcoming others to join him in the enjoyable experiences of life. He says that he does not require his followers to partake in drinking alcohol or having sex, but simply seeks those who wish to feel free and unhindered by the constraints of society. Thus is the reason for his worship often taking place out in the wilds. In Dionysus’ darker side however, he can be extremely destructive and terrifying.  

He typically hates overly serious people, being too organized, strictness, and those who harm innocent creatures for no reason. When a person harms an innocent, Dionysus’ mood takes a drastic change and his form changes into something horrifying. His eyes become blood-red and his mouth deforms into a large serpent-like mouth with enormous fangs, then he attacks the person in a wild frenzy. His terror can cause petrification and madness in those who see him and they rapidly get torn apart. When angered, Dionysus becomes the Devourer of Flesh and either consumes his enemies or causes disturbing hallucinations and intense horror. Yet with most people, Dionysus is very entertaining to be around and often likes to make sexual jokes or tease, but he can become a bit serious when the need arises. He is very up-lifting and likes to teach people how to have fun with their lives and become less emotionally burdened by the demands of society. He loves things such as racing (especially horse racing) gambling, orgies, forest groves, and just enjoying himself in general.  

Dionysus has explained himself to be an aspect (shard) of the elder deity of virility, Set, who had also produced other aspects of himself such as Cernunnos, Pan, and Bes. The aspects are all One deity in essence, but due to free-will, they are independent from one another which allows them to have separate (yet very similar) personalities and desires. 

Offerings: wine, sparkling wine, white wine with pine resin (retsina), figs, grapes, pomegranates, apricots, potatoes, cauliflowers, eggplants, broccoli, horseradish, beetroot, parsnips, spring onions, strawberries, watermelon, peaches, cheese, lamb, goat, veal, chicken, cheeseburgers, ravioli with minced beef, chicken korma, lamb’s tongue, cow liver, chicken hearts, ram brains, coconuts, coconut oil, kumquat, ivy, pinecones, pinecone cores, chestnuts, walnuts, raisins, ritual goblets, tambourines, honey-coloured beads, tigers eye, watermelon tourmaline, chrysoberyl, amethyst, bull’s eye stone, dildos, various sex toys, canes, cum, bull figurines, leopard or panther figurines, incense of poppy, opium, or pine resin

[via-whitmore]

i’m working on some bw fic and i want to know what you think richard’s favorite food would be. also what do you think jimmy, angela, charlie and pearl and odette’s favorite food would be? it’s so fun speculating. if you answer i’ll send you what i was thinking too

How delicious!! Okay I have been thinking a lot and I think Richard’s favorite food was his mother’s pumpkin soup. Post war, I think he is a roast chicken man because the texture is much easier to chew than other kinds of meat. With baked potatoes.

I think Jimmy becomes REALLY into food after the war. There are two different references in the show to him eating steak so I think that’s his fave, rare. I also think he develops a mania for fresh fruit.

Angela is Italian so she is easy for me to draw on because we probably have similar backgrounds. I think my girl loves just a really plain pasta marinara.

Charlie, I think Meyer introduces him to pastrami sandwiches from Katz’s deli in NYC with Cel Ray soda. But obviously also a good spaghetti cannot be beaten.

Odette. Now, I know I probably have a note about this somewhere! She eats very light for reasons of her figure but I think AR really develops her sweet tooth. I think she develops a love of Italian pastries like canoli and Napoleons but really has to avoid them and so eats a lot of figs and other berries under his guidance. I also think she is passionate about Italian food.

Pearl: this is an easy one! Oranges!!

Also anon I apologize for the lateness of my reply! I am not on tumblr much right now because of a family emergency but I hope it doesn’t discourage you sending questions because I enjoy them so much!

[orsuliya]

As we can see from the above there is a wide spectrum of possible interpretations of Xiao Qi’s behaviour post-Hunt of Doom. I’ve gone through good three or four different ones myself, some of them more harsh than those sent in by my lovely Nonnies and yes, this is actually something I like to think about, sue me. And yet I stalled when faced with those particular asks; could it be that I had no answer at the ready? Actually, yes, this is exactly what I’m saying. Which is why I felt the need to re-examine some of the particularly juicy scenes related to the subject. If only to stop getting so bloody depressed about this purported change... or, alternatively, hurry up and become a veritable fountain of tears already, with all of this hemming and hawing done with once and for all.

I think we can all agree that something snapped in Xiao Qi after episode 50. Not completely, as during Hu Yao’s retelling it’s made pretty obvious there was still plenty left there to snap. And even then Xiao Qi never went full psycho, for all that he had every excuse to do so. Why, he was able to stop in his tracks and delay - or even partially abandon - his revenge when it became clear it could potentially play into the hands of some unknown, possibly hostile and probably self-serving faction. That’s more than one could reasonably expect; to be frank, when watching those last few episodes raw I got mightily confused. Because really, nobody would blame Xiao Qi for going after Zitan with actual killing intent; it may not have looked quite right even then, but it made actual sense for the character.

And oh dear, did he become ruthless! I don’t think that drama!Xiao Qi would have normally gone after witless Imperial Mooks with such utter ruthlessness when not threatened directly and certainly not because of an insult. Until he did in episode 55, that is. Without one word, like a bloody grim reaper. Not to say that he was ever loud or, gods forbid, hesitant about his killing. But neither was he this single-minded about it. There is still plenty of emotion there or rather there is plenty of emotion before - including an actual tear! - and none in the immediate aftermath of the killing.

Huh. Is it me or does this scene resemble nothing more than a burnt offering? It’s a ritual sacrifice, just look how it’s framed! Plenty of fire and smoke, sacrificial animals Mooks butchered and fired up right at the gravesite and Xiao Qi as the presiding priest entering into communion with the dead and making a solemn oath meant to ensure their peaceful rest. Well, isn’t this neat. But it’s not about the aesthetics. It’s about the way this oath is worded. Xiao Qi addresses his fallen brothers directly, which means this whole revenge business is not actually about him. It would be much, much easier if it was! The only way he enters into this equation personally at this stage is as an executioner... and as a debtor. He feels that he owes those fallen soldiers, that much is made clear. As if he wouldn’t have felt obliged to get justice for them either way! Let me tell you, they take bro code very, very seriously up there in Ningshuo.

And yet, with this oath weighing on his soul, what is Xiao Qi’s first destination? It’s not Ningshuo, where he might be able to clear up this whole supposed treason issue (and wouldn’t that be fun to see!), get resources to exact revenge or hell, even admit and undergo penance for his perceived failings, if that’s his jam. It’s not like he has any other options if he wants to get justice. Unless he’s planning to go full Dark and Toxic Avenger, which doesn’t suit him at all. And yet what is his first priority? To save his wife, of course! Which he could have done just as well with the full force of Ningshuo Army behind his back, which he could have had but for the asking. It’s not like he could have known Awu needed immediate rescuing, he’s not bloody prescient.

So, on that list of priorities Awu’s safety trumps revenge. Good to know. But it’s still before everything else, right? Yeah, no. See, there is a reason he didn’t go to Ningshuo until he had no other choice but to seek out safety for Awu and all those civilians, the Dou kids among them. It’s the same reason he doesn’t force a mutiny right at the very start and not even once he has his back pressed to the wall by a horde of wild Hulans. And why he leaves it to this men to make their own decision to follow him and even tries to talk them out of it, reminding them that officially he’s a dirty traitor and all that. So... Free choice and good reputation of living Ningshuo soldiers trump revenge, who knew. Xiao Qi, dearie, that’s not how you go on a rampage, what kind of a ruthless avenger are you? A very poor one, that’s what kind.

No, really, he’s so bad at this roaring rampage of revenge thing that I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Because the next thing we know he’s not even framing it as revenge anymore! If you pay attention to that lovely post-coital (what, it really is!) conversation in episode 60, some things immediately jump out. Like the fact that Xiao Qi is clingy as fuck and not that eager to go anywhere outside his wife’s bed. Like the fact that he says that he needs to go as it is his duty to get to the truth. Truth! Not revenge. And it’s not like he’s framing it this way solely for Awu’s benefit as he talks to her of revenge just one episode later; truth is what is going to figure the most in his pursuit of the true culprit behind the Hunt of Doom. Truth and justice. Which is nothing like this hundredfold revenge stuff from episode 55, although revenge - normal, standard type - will still come up time to time. Could it be that this oath is Xiao Qi’s spiritus movens with truth and justice playing the role of a fig leaf preserving some resemblance of reason and legality? It’s certainly possible... if his actions supported it in any way. And they simply don’t.

Because you know what just got put onto that list of priorities above bloody revenge? Duty. Duty that all Ningshuo soldiers have towards Cheng. Zitan is sitting in his room, while his ministers run around like headless chickens. Chaos and rebellion rule supreme... so what does Xiao Qi do? He takes the scenic route to the capital, absolutely disregarding the fact that after six more months and with no advantage of surprise - hard to keep his return secret when he’s at the head of an army - the trail of this dastardly culprit could go completely cold.

So far the list of Xiao Qi priorities goes something like this:

Awu,

his living men, which includes their reputation and freedom of choice,

his duty to Cheng and its people,

truth and justice,

revenge. 

Which is pretty much what it would have looked like before episode 50, minus revenge that is. Ah, no, sorry, there is a change. There is an additional bullet point, Song Huaien. Who had gone well before truth and justice before the Hunt of Doom (remember that burnt receipt?) and now slots in right behind it. Still trumps revenge though! If he didn’t, Xiao Qi would have pressed harder during their little tete-a-tete at the end of episode 60. But no, he loses control only for the barest moment and even then it takes an implied insult to the honour of his fallen brothers in general and Best Bro in particular. Or, if that is not proof enough, he would have involved Song Huaien in his later investigation, putting pressure on him if necessary. And yet that quite noticeably doesn’t happen.

Okay, I think we’re pretty clear on this priorities thing, right? To recap, Xiao Qi’s post-episode 50 list of priorities looks like this:

Awu,

his living men, which includes their reputation and freedom of choice,

his duty to Cheng and its people,

truth and justice,

Song Huaien (currently an outsider) and his freedom of choice,

revenge.

Let’s change the subject. You are right on point, my lovely Nonnie #1, Xiao Qi hasn’t exactly changed. He just became more of himself, shedding - perhaps only temporarily - some parts, while embracing others whole-heartedly. Which hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed. And surprisingly enough I’m not talking about Awu; we shall speak of her fears in a moment. I’m speaking of Tang Jing and his strange way of reassuring Xiaohe that Dawang will be fine during their meeting with Song Huaien. DAWANG will be fine, says our faithful general, keeping a close and surprisingly wary eye on the proceedings. Why, it looks like he might be implying someone else might not be fine, that somebody being Song Huaien. Tang Jing is wrong on that count, but he had definitely noticed something off about Xiao Qi. Or maybe not off, but something that has him at the ready for possible violence, which would have been absurd before Dawang’s miraculous resurrection. Methinks someone is coming over as having no more fucks to give. Well, it’s not like Ningshuo guys disapprove! Just look at their determined little faces and upright postures (!) during the kneeling debacle in episode 61.

As for Awu... Personally I don’t think it at all strange that she questions whether Xiao Qi has changed. It would be much, much stranger if she didn’t. Her doubt is only natural as it comes right after she gets proof that Su Jin’er betrayed her in a most heinous way. And it’s not the first time she was taken by surprise like this: most of her loved ones changed in most unpleasant ways and some simply revealed their true colours. Daddy Wang, Daddy Emperor, Empress Dowager, Zitan, Potato (if one believes Helan Zhen), Xie Wanru, Zilu, Mi’er, Su Jin’er, they all turned out to be something else than she originally thought them to be and even her parents’ marriage turned out to be built on blood and penance. Turnip is not on that list as he start lying to her face only after she expresses her fear to Xiao Qi, although before she does so to Auntie Xu.

But let us look at our Dark and Toxic Avenger. He rolls up to the capital with his humongous army good six months late and does he get straight to business? Yeah, no. First he allows Awu to hold a sweet reunion with her brother, which could have damaged his cause if it ever hinged on empty posturing. It doesn’t, but still, Nonnie #1, what say you to this example of husbandly strictness? That he does not engage himself is not exactly out of character either; he does engage with those of Awu relatives he likes (so her Mom basically) and holds back with those he doesn’t (like the Screechers). He’s pretty ambivalent on Turnip, I think, especially now that he serves as Zitan’s mouthpiece.

Thank you, dear Nonnie #2 for making me pay attention to those two scenes in particular. That episode 61 conversation is something quite special and very, very telling. Let’s start from the beginning. It’s not Awu who raises the subject of Xiao Qi changing; he does it himself. She just muses on the subject in general and he immediately zeroes on it, volunteering such juicy ammo as the fact that other people think he had changed. Who are those other people, I wonder? Tang Jing? Other Ningshuo officers? Who the hell could have known Xiao Qi well enough and be close enough to have no problem with voicing such an inflammatory opinion? Must have been Tang Jing. Doesn’t really matter. What matters is that Xiao Qi is surprisingly conscious of his own behaviour. But I think it’s not exactly a new thing; I think his reluctance to take Awu with him in episode 60 was at least partially motivated by his fear that she’d see him at his worst. After all he didn’t actually confirm her theory about his probable reasoning. But back to episode 61! Xiao is also surprisingly insecure about his actions. At first I thought he was concerned solely about Awu’s perception of them, but now I’m not so sure. He’s a bit too touched and too grateful for her support - to the point of overselling her contribution, unless there were some cuts there, that is - for it to be just that.

As for that playfulness, merry Nonnie #3, there it is!

And strangely enough it’s Xiao Qi who initiates it. Awu’s comment about Princess Yuzhang needing to be brave doesn’t exactly feel like teasing. More like reassurance; I am your Princess Yuzhang hear me roar and you are not alone, you have a help-meet in me. He’s the one who turns to teasing her about her great bravery and being superior to Prince Yuzhang in this aspect. In the old days she might have been the one to put herself above him as a joke; this is weirdly reminiscent of that teasing but with Xiao Qi substituting for Awu. And even so their teasing doesn’t exactly last, they’re too clingy and scared for that. Well, Awu is scared, Xiao Qi is mainly conflicted. Although a lot less than before he got that sweet, sweet validation from his wife.

About that massacre talk... I just noticed that this talk of merciless revenge doesn’t exactly come of the blue. He says it in direct response to Awu voicing her fears. She’s afraid of even greater danger awaiting them in the future... so what does an excellent husband like Xiao Qi do? Why, he reassures his scaredy-cat wife that he already died once and this time it’s the culprit behind this whole bloody mess who’s going straight to hell, never to bother them again. Whoever he might be. I think... I think it’s Xiao Qi’s way of reassuring his wife that there is no need to be scared. “Darling, no, don’t worry about me, nothing bad is going to happen. Or rather yes, many bad things are going to happen, but to the guy who put this fear into your heart, whoever he might be”. It’s... surprisingly sweet. And not a complete miss; Awu is not exactly opposed, she just doesn’t want a bloodbath. True, he doesn’t respond to that; and how could he make such a promise when he doesn’t know if a bloodbath will be required. He doesn’t respond... but he does listen very attentively. And you know what?  There won’t be a bloodbath, not in the name of his revenge, even once there is opportunity and proof enough for it.

Also, in this particular conversation? It’s Xiao Qi looking Awu in the eye and actively seeking this contact. She’s the nervous one here, the one whose behaviour is more out of line with their pre-episode 50 baseline.

Episode 62, second oath over Hu Guanglie’s grave. This time there is no talk about any pain or humiliation paid back hundredfold; Hu Yao asks Xiao Qi to get to the truth and restore the good name of Ningshuo army. He’s visibly moved and does just that. Hu Yao as the only survivor among Xiao Qi’s subordinates present at the Hunt of Doom  holds a very unique position; she’s the living breathing representative of her fallen brethren, a conduit of their will. Truth and good name? Done. This moment may be, in fact, the reason why Xiao Qi doesn’t cut Zitan into pieces. It would exactly be all that conductive to restoring that good name. Zitan in exile after having publicly admitted his guilt is one thing, but Zitan brutally murderized in his own throne hall could potentially become a martyr. Sure, our Master of Mope is a regicide himself, but any canny politician would disregard that in order to hoist his bloody corpse as an undeniable proof that Xiao Qi needs to die as an uncontrollable beast. Add to that half a dozen wild tales of fiery jealousy over Awu, Xiao Qi’s rampant ambition, Zitan’s tragic martyrdom in name of the truth, whatever that truth might be... and lo and behold, Ningshuo guys are back to being public enemy number one. Well, not to the common people, they’re not, but to all those aristos who already break into hives at the very thought of filthy commoners deciding the fate of the Empire? Yeah.

Soon after that second oath Xiao Qi goes after Zitan... in a suspiciously bloodless, if psychologically earth-shattering way. Still leaving him an out and appealing to his conscience in a way. Which... is the worst possible approach to take with Zitan who has no conscience. That he lays into Zitan’s ministers with unprecedented ferocity is not exactly surprising. It’s not like they didn’t deserve it; even before everything there was a visible divide and even enmity between ‘them’ and ‘us’, it’s just that nobody dared to voice it in the throne room. The only thing that changed is that ‘they’ turned out to be even more useless than usual, allowing chaos and rebellion to run rampant; Xiao Qi has every right to be pissed and it’s not like he never baited the ministers with their own uselessness before. Although now that I think about it... Those two spears to the back might have done his verbal filter in.

The only thing Xiao Qi would have never done in the good old days when Hu Guanglie was still around (in corporeal form, ghosts don’t count)? He would have never threatened an Emperor with a public uprising. With Ningshuo army, however... Well, it wasn’t outright rebellion, but... No, actually. Exploding an imperial envoy absolutely was an act of open rebellion. It’s just that Xiao Qi still cared about forms enough to bow and make sure to give His Imperial Majesty the middle finger only in limited, discreet company. And even that could be attributed to the fact that he had at least some respect for both Daddy Emperor and Potato. Not much. But enough. For Zitan he has absolutely none. Had either of the previous incumbents fucked up to this extent, it could have gone pretty much the same. There must have been lots of dead and starving women and children on the way from Ningshuo to the capital.

Episode 63, family outing. They’re both optimistic enough, exactly as befits new parents. And then Xiao Qi recalls their old dream of living in peace; he does this with certain wistfulness, but the dream itself is something that kept coming up this whole time, so it’s nothing out of ordinary. And then Awu tries to get him to take a break. She doesn’t ask him to abandon his revenge. She wants to put all the current issues off and just... go. He quite understandably dismisses this idea. It’s not that he’s dismissive towards her concerns. It’s that she doesn’t actually voice any valid concerns here! I have no idea what this is even supposed to be. It’s not a demand nor a sensible request. It’s nothing he would be inclined to take on his merits. Is it mean to be a very clumsy attempt at emotional manipulation? After if fails, it becomes rather obvious that it was a long stretch to begin with, one that she felt obliged to make anyway with little to no actual hope of succeeding. And I even get why, but...

Come out and say what you mean, Awu. You can’t have you revenge for this, this and that reason, not without making things worse, just stop. She’s wishy-washy. Put off. Put off his investigation, leaving behind a potential enemy who thinks nothing of murdering people and has a hard-on for Awu? That’s not only stupid, that’s actively suicidal. Put off his all the current issues? Like keeping Cheng in one piece and not letting it slide back into civil war? Zitan isn’t magically going to get better at ruling, you know. None of the reasons for the initial chaos have been removed, well, maybe except a few rebellious heads. This plead, half-serious as it is, is insane. He’d have to be insane to agree to that. And he knows that she knows that. “Sure, honey. Once I deal with my enemies, we’ll go”. Is he humoring her? Perhaps, but I don’t think so. He takes a moment to think before answering. “We will do things your way once things are safe for us to do so“. Because you know what? Dealing with his enemies solves pretty much every other outstanding problem in one swoop. No, it really does. Including public discontent and world hunger. I’m not joking about the latter, by the way, remember that final voiceover?

I am sounding snappish, I think. It’s not that I’m judging Awu, even if it might seem so. I get where she’s coming from and I don’t dismiss her very real fears... but this is not the way to express those. She can do better. She has done better in the past. She’s traumatized as fuck, conflicted about her own role, afraid for their dream, fine. But it’s hard to blame Xiao Wi for reacting like a reasonable human being either, especially when her behaviour should be giving him pretty serious whiplash. One moment she stands with him and supports him in action, the next she offers him reassurance and voices her pretty reasonable condition... and the next she tries to half-heartedly propose something as totally bonkers as taking a break, leaving the realm in utter chaos. He’s not so stupid as not to know that something is up. So acting suspicious? It’s not actually unreasonable. And unlike most MLs would do, he doesn’t accuse her of supporting his enemies, not ever. He’s just concerned, if in a rather brusque way.

In fact, I’d say he’s surprisingly calm when Awu implies he’s raising their kid in a culture of hate in episode 64. He simply reminds the that Xiaohe has witnessed the massacre himself, so his reaction is genuine. And, as I personally think, not a half-bad way of dealing with trauma, very constructive. It’s not like the kid wants to go and shank Zitan himself; he’s talking about becoming a great general and then perhaps taking revenge. And, quite noticeably, Xiao Qi doesn’t say a word to this announcement. And yet the most he allows himself in response to Awu’s not very nice implication is a very matter-of-fact explanation with perhaps the slightest hint of defensiveness and no personal attacks. Now, this turning away from her is... concerning to say the least, so I understand your feelings on the subject, dear Nonnie #2. But.... is it all that bad? Let’s see.

He does turn away and responds only when she calls his name twice. And even then there is something nearly... insulting about his demeanour. He’s tired, that’s for sure. And perhaps dismissive. But notice that this deadpan tone lasts only as long as Awu keeps dancing around the subject, throwing up wild theories, even as they both pretty much know what the truth is. And even then he’s paying full close attention to her unusual behaviour, certainly enough to suss out something must have happened... and immediately offer his support. Which works! Or would have worked if not for bloody Auntie Xu. Or not bloody, at least not yet (please, Daddy Wang, hurry up!).

So let’s recap:

Awu implies that Xiao Qi is raising Xiao Qi in a culture of hate - to which he responds with facts and nothing but.

She uses this to gain momentum for another attempt at clumsy emotional manipulation (which she’s much better at usually) - he turns away very rudely as he finds this beneath both of their dignities and he’s not exactly wrong, is he?

She throws up a truly absurd candidature of Prime Minister Wen as the actual culprit, very blatantly playing up her wifely concern and fear - he dismisses it immediately, not even pretending he hadn’t seen through her ploy.

Then she tries to use her own brother to make him admit that there are limits to his revenge - and he gives her a warning glance.

After which he reiterates his stance and disengages. Which, fair. His previously supportive wife is playing stupid games and lying to him. He knows she’s smarter than that. If she had a theory about PM Wen or Turnip, that would be one thing. But she’s jumping. This is going somewhere. And it’s not exactly hard to guess where. Also, trying to hit the family button, even so subtly? After all they went through and after she already used it once during Screechergate, if in a much more brutal manner? And after she assured him that he was the most important person to her before they even left Ningshuo? Yeah, that’s not good.

And even then he doesn’t get offended enough for it to overcome his concern. Oh, he might have acted disinterested, but he’s been paying attention alright. And he starts the conversation again, asking her outright what is wrong. Because something obviously is. And she lies. Again. He calls her out on it very succinctly and without assigning any blame. “That’s not true”, he says and asks again what has happened. “Your heart is uneasy. Tell me. You don’t have to carry this burden alone”.

That’s more than reasonable. He gives her more that one chance of coming clean and puts her well-being above any possible offence or hurt of his own. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone”, dammit. That’s not exactly dismissive. All the same I do understand why this conversation might trip people up. It’s all about the tone. They’re not tender with each other - well, Awu tries for gentle concern, but she’s lying, even if that concern is real enough. He’s brusque enough for two. But you know what I think? I think this was the worst possible place to have this conversation. Bad, bad choice on Awu’s part. To one side they have a wall of maids including Auntie Xu the Blabber, even as the issue they’re discussing is of national importance and spies don’t sleep. To the other there are two kids. Little pitchers have big ears, you know. And besides, they’re talking about the true source of the kids’ trauma, something that Xiaohe is only starting to process. This is so awkward and so perfect at the same time! You see, there is something very telling about their voices. They’re quiet. So quiet that Auntie Xu, trying for a surreptitious whisper, speaks at pretty much the same volume.

Yeah, okay, Xiao Qi could have played it differently. They both could have. But his reactions are not really anything out of the norm, even if somewhat more human than usual. He’s so bloody tired and even their home - as you’ve pointed out so astutely, Nonnie #3 - is no sanctuary anymore.

After that they presumably go about their business and don’t really resolve anything until the evening. See, Awu really wants to say something when she sees Xiao Qi enter her rooms. An apology, perhaps? Perhaps not. He doesn’t let her either way, only offers to go with her. Okay. So they had that tense conversation and thanks to Auntie Xu the only chance of Awu coming clean went bust. He still comes to offer his support the moment he hears she’s in distress. That’s how very much he’s not holding a grudge. And he reaches for her first!

Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter more than your pain. It never will.

Ah, Mother’s Funeral 2.0 combined with Unpleasant Truth About A Wang Male 2.0, the latter offered after an even weaker token protest than last time. No change of behaviour there! And again, he lets her go and deal with her family on her own terms.

Then we get plotting scene, which was sadly hacked to pieces and we don’t even get to see Awu reveal the truth about Zitan. But from there on they act as one. No more of this emotional blackmail bullshit, no more dismissal, there’s a crisis and they’re a unit. And guess what, revenge just got shelved!

Or no, not shelved. Exchanged for truth and justice. Because even if Xiao Qi’s coup is fake as hell, he still reveals Zitan for the monster that he is. What I don’t understand is why does nobody really care about Zitan murdering Potato, but okay. Either Potato lives don’t matter or they need time to actually make a viable plan how to deal with this rotten kinder surprise. Or, and that’s probably accurate in any case, they need time to come out of shock. I feel you, guys, I would be pretty shocked too. The Yuzhang Acting Company can have this effect on unprepared viewers.

As for the Yuzhang Acting Company and Xiao Qi’s acting abilities... you pretty much know already what I think. And if you don’t, you can read about it here and here. Mark my words, Awu is the tougher cookie of the pair, while Xiao Qi is practically falling to pieces at particularly difficult moments. Then he comes back, actively seeks her support upon being confronted with the source of the greater part of his anguish (the throne, not Zitan) and they go live happily even after in Ningshuo with a whole horde of kids. The end.

Well, that exercise, as amusing as it might have been, proved only one thing. Either I’m blind or I had fallen victim to the Mandela Effect, because I swear Awu was the more clingy one of the two the last time I looked. And it is really not so. As to whether he changed... They both did? Hopefully it’s nothing that a few months of living in Ningshuo won’t cure; you will tear my headcanonny teasy-cheesy old married couple from my cold, dead hands! Even so, it’s not as drastic as all that; they are both fundamentally themselves, only stripped down to bare elements and at the same time burdened with unbearable trauma. Okay, that’s it, we’re done, bye.

Or not bye. Because what about that revenge? Well... I’m pretty sure that Hu Guanglie’s ghost will be pretty satisfied with truth, justice and a golden opportunity to torment Zitan to death in the ruins of the Imperial Mausoleum? Oh, and he also got a nation-wide mourning ceremony. Yeah, he’s happy enough.

[babbushka]

Each Eye (7/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Reader

5.8k ; Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Blood, Gore, Murder

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

The tea you had chosen was a five course, three hour affair. You had figured that would be plenty of time to charm and chat, to catch up and gossip like normal people do. It was what everyone around you was doing, at the very least.

The Turkish afternoon set was very charming, and reminded you of all the wonderful memories you had with Kylo, going abroad to the gorgeous vacation home in Turkey that he owned. He had properties all over the world, but that was definitely one of your favorites, and it made the afternoon much more enjoyable.

The tea itself was brought out in a golden camel teapot, which you thought was only a little tacky, in that way that overly luxurious places tended to be. In addition to the tea though, there was a rosewater lemonade that was brought out with the first course.

Since it was only the first, the portions were small, but you didn’t care too much. You knew you’d be full by the end of it. Dried fruits and nuts decorated a golden tray, and you were careful to clean your teeth of the dried apricots and figs when you asked,

“NYU or Columbia?”

Rey hadn’t been expecting that question, clearly, if the way she coughed around the sweet walnuts was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, soothing her throat with some of the tea, the Dunes de Sahara that she was currently on her second cup of.

“Tax law, isn’t it? Are you at NYU or Columbia?” You clarified, really wondering if there would ever be an instance that she would just use her own context clues so you wouldn’t have to go repeating yourself all the time.

“Oh, Columbia.” She replied, dabbing her mouth with the linen cloth and reaching for the dried dates.

“You have a full schedule, I’m assuming.” You nodded, and she sighed.

“Yes. It’s very, pardon my pun, taxing.” Rey chuckled slightly at her own joke. If you weren’t so suspicious of her, then you might’ve laughed too. “I’m enrolled in the maximum amount of classes, currently. Although the drop period hasn’t passed yet, so I might lighten the load a little, depending.”

There was no way you could envision her dropping a class normally – you knew how she had been in high school when you both attended together. You saw how she took on more classes than anyone else, more after-school extracurriculars, more clubs.

Her dropping a class was only more reason to believe that she was doing something, something that was going to cause another schism in the family, something that was going to start another war – and you had proof.

You only needed her to admit it.

“Well then I am extra glad that this worked out. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your studies for too long, but it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.” You commented.

“I don’t think I’ve actually ever spent time with you like this.” Rey said quietly, “The two of us alone, I mean.”

You both knew why, you knew. It wasn’t hard to guess, what with the way she had gone after her brother, what with the way she was so hell bent on killing him, that night so many years ago.

You took a sip of your tea, and smiled falsely at the waiter when they removed the golden tray of the first course, and replaced it with the second.

On top of a crystal dish were filo puff pastries filled with lamb and feta cheese, pistachio finger-cakes, and crackers with dates.

“Kylo’s very protective, isn’t he. When I went to Columbia he enrolled in all the same classes just to put himself at ease.” You said, reaching for one of the pastries, placing it on your pretty plate and using the polished silverware to cut into it.

“You’re an alumnus?” Rey’s hand froze as she reached for her own pastry, and you smiled.

“Of course, didn’t you know?” You asked, paying her body language no visible mind, “Spent quite a lot of time in Arthur W. Diamond.”

“Me too, there and the library.” Rey said, and you did glance up at her then.

“That is the library.” You blinked, watching.

She knew, you could tell she knew, that she was fucked.

You only were trying to prove a point. She knew that too.

“Oh, yeah, right, that’s what I meant.” She said unconvincingly, busying herself with the pastry, cutting it into many pieces of exactly the same size and shape, a nervous habit.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go back and get a secondary degree, maybe another masters, I don’t know. Is Professor Carmichael still there? I loved taking classes that professor taught, we became good friends.” You asked, luring her into a trap.

“He is! I see him in the hallways sometimes.” Rey nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll ask and see if he remembers you.”

Professor Carmichael died two years ago, you and Kylo had gone to the funeral.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“That would be wonderful! You could ask after you visit the deli.” You said, pleased with yourself for this little segue.

 Rey’s hands went deathly still.  

 She was frozen for some time, you only watching her, only taking in her posture and the way her pulse jumped in her throat. You wondered what it must be like, to be prey.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Rey blinked, and oh how funny it was, to watch her immediately tense up.

To watch her lie.

“Don’t you frequent the Hamilton deli, on Amsterdam Avenue?” You asked, picking up your phone which had been resting on the table.

Her eyes zeroed in on the phone, and you could tell she was suspicious, could tell she was already thinking that you were using it to record her. She didn’t need to know that Kylo’s phone was safely tucked away in your purse, microphone facing her through the thin fabric.

“No, I’ve never been there before.” She lied.

You didn’t even need to use your years and years of observational skills to tell, didn’t even need to look at her to tell she was lying, because you were sifting through your screenshots in the cell phone gallery, looking for one piece of incriminating evidence.

“That’s funny because this is a reply text message from your cell phone number, to an unsaved number. It says, ’I'm busy that weekend. Let’s meet on Monday, our usual spot on Amsterdam.” You said, finally finding it, turning the phone screen to face her, “Or, am I mistaken?”

“How did you get that?” She asked, defensive. So defensive.

She knew she was fucked, why did she bother making this more difficult than it already needed to be?

“A little birdie sent it my way.” You replied.

It was easy to forget, you figured, that your family had connections with all the crooked cops in the city. It was easy to forget that there were people who sent in reports, people who made back alley deals, people who took bribes and offered them to the mob. Cops weren’t all squeaky clean and sunshine the way the mayor was painting them, the way some of these bootlickers were painting them.

No, they were just as slimy and grimy and corrupt as anyone else – maybe even more so.

 It was a cop who sent you that screenshot.

Which meant it was a cop that Rey had spoken to.  

 “So you do visit the deli.” You asked again, and this time, this time Rey had no choice but to play along, unless she was stupid.

She may have been a moron, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Yes.” Rey finally said, taking another big sip of her tea.

“Regularly.” You said, no longer a question.

“What’s this about?” Rey’s eyes narrowed, that squirrely fear of her giving way to the frustration of being caught.

You shrugged, putting the phone away, tucking it into your pocket. Rey followed the movement carefully, and part of you wondered if she thought you were going to pull out a gun and kill her right there. You could, of course, but you wouldn’t. For what she had done, what she was doing, she was in for something far more gruesome.

Today was only a warning.

You took a sip of the lemonade.

“I wonder who you meet there.” You said, nonchalant.

“Just some friends.” Rey replied.

The waiter decided that that was the best time to come in and clear away the plates, to exchange the pretty crystal dish for a three-tiered tray of stirling silver.

This was the course you were most looking forward to, if you were being honest. The top tier of the tray held a sunflower fennel Turkish bagel, the second tray had chicken pastilla, and a fun variety of dips, and the bottom tray had an assortment of things to go with the bagel. You immediately went straight for the apricot saffron jam, and watched as Rey tried her best to keep her hands from shaking as she served herself some baba ghanoush.  

“It must be very good food, or they must be very good friends, for you to regularly take time out of your very full schedule.” You said.

“It’s not so busy.” She replied, and you raised a brow.

“You just said you’re taking the maximum amount of classes.” You challenged, and she blinked rapidly, trying to backtrack.

“I meant it’s not so busy right now, at this point in the semester.” She lied, “We help each other study.”

“I didn’t think someone so bright would need help studying.” You mused, taking a crisp crunchy bite out of the pastilla.

Rey must have been at her tipping point, because her jaw was clenched and her fists were tight on the silverware she held. You had a fleeting thought that she would lunge at you from across the table, the knife in her hand particularly tense.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” She hissed instead, and you raised an eyebrow.

“What am I implying?” You asked, which she didn’t seem to appreciate too much.

“That I’m cavorting with people.” She tried to keep her voice down as to not draw attention to herself, although her temper and that firey sprit that always reminded you so much of her late grandfather, wanted otherwise.

“Are you?” You asked evenly, hoping she’ll just get over with it and fess up.

“No.” She lied instead, and you cocked your head.

“Then why was that your first impulse I wonder?” You hummed, taking a sip of the tea.

“I’m used to people accusing me of things I didn’t do.” Rey said and you almost wanted to laugh out loud.

“Who’s throwing out accusations?” You said instead, your own attitude starting to become a little snippy, starting to become a little more sharp around the edges. “I just think it’s interesting that you make such an effort to meet your new friends. You don’t even take the time to properly control your slice of the city which you so desperately want to keep. I wonder if Gwen knows.”

“Why should she?” Rey scoffed, making you shrug.

“Keeping secrets isn’t the best way to maintain a healthy relationship.” You said.

“No one in this family would know a healthy relationship if it bit them in the ass.” She countered.

That caught you off guard a little, and you did have to admit it was funny. You chuckled a bit into the teacup, careful not to let the short burst of air blow too much of the steam away.

“Probably not.” You replied, before once again repeating yourself, “So which is it?”

“What?” Rey asked, and part of you wanted to strangle her right then and there.

“Is the food good, or are the “friends” good?” You asked.

“The food’s pretty fucking good.” Rey admitted.

“I’ve only been there one time, do you know what I ordered?” You asked, smiling as you wiped the corner of your mouth, as you finished your Turkish bagel and cracked the joints in your neck, your knuckles.

“Do tell.” Rey said, sarcastically and through gritted teeth.

“The N.Y.P.D.” You said easily, so easily, watching as the color drained from her face.

It was an expression you had only seen on her once before.

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

You’re seething, eyes red-rimmed, blood staining your chin, your cheeks. Fury raged through you as you blinked away the hot stinging tears in your eyes, exhausted and overwhelmed and far too keyed up all at the same time.

You were hunting, hunting him down. On your way to rip him apart limb from limb, on your way to gouge out his eyes and yank his heart straight out of his throat.

Snoke.

The man who had ordered your beloved to kill his father, which he had done! Which he had done so well, so deservingly – it hadn’t been enough. Not enough for Snoke, not enough for him who lured him into a trap for his sister to strike him down. The wretched old man, the monster who had taken your Kylo away from you, who had warped and twisted him into a puppet who had to obey.

Well, he didn’t have to obey any longer, not anymore.

Kylo was passed out, blacked out in your bed. You had found him had saved him, had sewn the chasm of his face back together with ugly fucked up stitches because you didn’t know how to do any better, you didn’t know. You had never done anything like this before, had never even seen it done. Nothing but sheer force and willpower had pushed your fingers forward, nothing but blind determination and fear had given you any sense of calm.

Were you calm?

You left him in your bed, stole his keys, and were now flying down the roads. Adrenaline is pounding through your veins, blood in your ears as it rushes behind your temple. You’re speeding, your foot slammed on the gas pedal as you rip through the streets of some small Jersey city. The address in Kylo’s GPS, in Kylo’s car, was leading you to him, to the biggest, meanest boss on the East coast.

You didn’t have anything, nothing to fight him with, nothing to kill him with. But you’re too angry, too furious, too filled with rage to stop yourself from going after him.

You don’t even know how you get there, when the GPS concludes, when you’re slamming the brakes and parking the car, turning it off. You don’t know how long it took, don’t know where you are. All you know is that somewhere inside a shitty warehouse, dilapidated and crumbling, is the man who sent your Kylo to die.

On the wall of the warehouse, in the very first room you creep into, there’s an axe in a glass case. Without thinking, you punch through the glass, send it shattering, send the alarm ringing blaring screaming. The lights flash, and the siren is so loud, and you yank the axe out from the small case, hold it in your hands.

You’re deranged. You don’t know how many men you cut down, on your way to Snoke.

There were rumors about it, rumors of the massacre, the way you had taken on a team of people. All his guards came pouring in, swarming from the depths of the warehouse with their big guns and their poor aim. Maybe if Snoke hadn’t sent Kylo away, hadn’t betrayed him, then he’d still have his attack dogs.

Now he didn’t have anything at all.

It was that night, that you knew how Kylo felt. How he got so out of it, in a trance, when he killed. You had never felt like that before, had never heard the sick crunch of bone as the heavy blade of the axe swung through it, had never heard the screams of someone as their light faded from their eyes.

The screams were muffled by the alarms, the slip and slide of their blood illuminated by the flashing lights, but you didn’t care, you could hear see feel smell it anyway. You were in a frenzy, like a shark hunting for blood.

You were hungry for it, hungry for the death you inflicted.

They had hurt him, had lured him into a trap where his own death was the only outcome, where the dominos would tip and he would fall. They didn’t know he was alive, they didn’t know he was fighting the reaper tooth and nail underneath your expensive satin sheets in your childhood bedroom, they didn’t know he was going to make it.

They wouldn’t make it.

Your muscles are burning by the time you’ve cut them all down, chops of your axe to their limbs, their necks. You’ve been shot, you had to have been, there’s no way you haven’t been, with how many they were. But you can’t feel it, can’t feel if there’s a bullet lodged in you somewhere.

You can’t die yet, you reason. If you die, you’re taking Snoke with you.

You can’t die until you get to Snoke.

The warehouse is like a maze, one large and winding thing, metal walls and grey floors, lights that bounce around off the rusting shelves and grates. You open unlocked doors, kick down locked ones, try your best not to scream as you cry, as you sob. You can’t stop crying, fear gripping your chest, squeezing at your heart as you try try try every door you come across, axe bloody and dripping on the cement in your wake.

You think of him, of Kylo. Of the man you love so desperately. You had never told him, hadn’t told him before that night, before only an hour ago. You never were given the chance, this withered monster having stolen that from you.

You wonder how much else he stole, what else you could have had.

Because you have him now, Kylo. You have him. He cried in your arms when you picked him up off the street, out of the alley. He sobbed into your hair, not coherent or even really that conscious, dead weight in your grip as you dragged him through the streets, dragged him to your house.

It was just your name, on his lips, when you sewed him shut. Just your name, over and over again, pleading, hoping it was you who had rescued him. And it was, you told him again and again, it was you, you were there, there with him.

He kissed you, when you had healed him, when his face was bandaged up to the best of your ability, he kissed you.

That was your first kiss, and you can’t help but wonder, if Snoke hadn’t been around what your first kiss might have been. You’re praying it’s not your first kiss goodbye, praying that by the time you get back to him, he’ll be there to hold you the way he clung to you.

 You’re surprised to see her, when you make it to the right room, the red lights blaring, washing the whole warehouse in an altogether evil atmosphere of violence and rage. You don’t expect her, and you lunge, tackle her to the ground, pressing the bar of your axe up against her throat, choking her as blood and spit spatters onto her face from the force of your anger.

“I’ll kill you!” You scream at her, “I’ll fucking kill you for what you’ve done!”

Because it’s Rey, Rey who split your Kylo’s face in two, Rey who stabbed him in the shoulder, Rey who shot him in the stomach. She’s there, choking under the weight of your axe, body convulsing and eyes bloodshot and angry. You don’t know why, but she’s there.

Rey, his sister, his younger sister, your friend, your classmate, power hungry in her own right.

“(Y/N)!” Rey struggles, chokes, red in the face, blood on her face – or is it just the lights? You don’t know, you don’t care.

You’re too angry.

“Ah,” A voice cuts through the darkness, something chilling that dumps down your spine. “So this is the (Y/N) that I’ve heard so much about.”

You snap your head up, searching in the blinding pulsing light for where the fuck he is, where the monster is hiding. Suddenly it’s like you’ve been electrified, and you’re frantically abandoning Rey’s body from where he’s gasping out on the floor, stalking the room, trying to squint through the lights at him.

“Kylo’s told me so much about you.” The voice, deep and dark and vile, bounces around the walls.

“Show yourself!” You shout, your whole body trembling, shaking with rage.

“Why? So you can cut me to pieces like you did my guards? No, I don’t think so.” The voice laughs, laughs and laughs, coming from all around the room, all angles, all sides.

You spin in a slow circle, as you try to catch shadows on the walls.

“You sick son of a bitch I said show yourself!” You’re practically foaming at the mouth, panting, breath ragged as you gulp down air. You have a splitting headache, you’re still crying, bleeding from a wound in your leg, hands numb from the grip you keep on your weapon.

“Put down the axe, and I will.” Snoke says. You drop it without question – you don’t need the axe to kill him, you’ll find another way. You just need him to show himself.

He steps out of the shadows then, a crippled old thing. He’s so much older than you had thought, than you had ever anticipated. He must be nearing ninety, from the age in his skin, his sunken face, hollow eyes. He’s bald, hunched over and spindly.

You hate him.

“Good, good girl. At least one of you can follow orders.” He chuckles, and you want to be sick, want to kill him. You’re going to kill him.

“Is that why you tricked him? Because he wouldn’t blindly obey you anymore?” You sobbed, unable to even look at him, you’re so repulsed.

“My plans for Kylo were set in motion the first day I met him, he was always destined for this.” Snoke shook his head.

He rushes towards you and grabs you, a grip far too strong for the man’s age, as he pulls out a gun and presses it to your cheek. You can feel the cold bite of the metal digging into your skin, even through the warm crust of blood that’s dried on your face.

“He was a young frightened child and you killed him.” Despite this, you shake, so angry, so livid. You need to think, you need to figure out a way to get out of this hold he has you in.

“He’s dead?” Rey asks from her spot on the floor, not having moved one fucking inch from where you left her.

“No thanks to you.” You lie, you lie and you pray it is a lie, you plead that it’s a lie.

“Shut up!” Snoke says, the arm that was tight around your middle now grabbing your jaw, crushing your chin in his hand as he spits on the floor and grumbles, “You know, I really wish Kylo had never met you.”

“I could say the same.” You say, before taking your opportunity.

You bite down on his hand, hard. So hard that he shouts out in pain and releases you just enough that you can twist yourself out of his hold. You shove Snoke to the floor as you kick the gun out of his hand, the thing spiraling across the cement floor as his head cracks against it. He’s old, he’s fragile, and he doesn’t get up quickly, you’re glad to find as you scramble to find your axe.

Rey screams as you swing the blade down across his ankle, as you cleave through the bone there, chopping his feet off. Snoke screams in pain, a horrible, mangled sound, like he’s never been hurt before, like no one has ever dared to hurt him. He hunches over on the floor, his hands grasping for the stubborn end of his leg.

You swing the axe down again with a yell, a rage filled hysterical shout, hacking through his arms.

There is so much blood, so much that Rey is running away from it, climbing up onto a stack of metal grates to avoid it touching her, to avoid getting it all over her. You lose your footing in it, hands scrabbling against the cement, his blood hot and thick as it pours from his limbs.

You don’t stop until he’s nearly unrecognizable, until he’s completely mangled, chopped into little pieces. You had known, of course you had known that he was human underneath the evil veneer of sickly grey skin, but to see it all laid bare was something you hadn’t been expecting, for whatever reason.

He was nothing more than a pile of bones and organs, skin flayed out and drenched in blood.

You were covered in it, sprayed and drenched from head to toe in it, and only once you had severed the head from his neck, did you drop the axe, did you stumble over onto the ground, did you lay yourself down on the cement and stare up at the flashing lights.

“Is he really dead?” Rey asks, voice small, scared.

She’s watching you from the metal grates, and you sigh.

You’re both too young for this kind of shit, nineteen year old killers. Well, technically, Rey hasn’t killed anyone yet. But the effort counted enough, you think.

“No.” You croak out, voice hoarse from all the screaming, all the shouting.

You’ve got your eyes closed, arms and legs spread out like you’re making snow angels, starfished right there on the concrete. You hear Rey get down from the metal grate, your heavy breathing not doing anything to drown out the noise of her standing at your feet.

When you crack an eye open, it’s to her offering you a hand.

“He killed my father.” Rey says, and you sigh as you take it.

“I know.” You reply, pulling her into a hug. “Han was his father too.”

“We need to get you out of here, before the cops come.” She says after she lets herself sigh into the hug, after she lets herself cry a little into your shoulder. When she pulls away, she’s got Snoke’s blood on your cheek. “I don’t know how to shut off the alarm.”

You nod, making sure to take the axe with you. You can’t leave it behind, can’t abandon the murder weapon, not here. You’ll dump it over the side of a bridge or something, but you can’t leave it here.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask as Rey pulls your arm across her shoulder, giving you support.

You’re definitely shot, you can feel it in your leg, now that the adrenaline high is winding down, you wince and grit your teeth through the pain. Your family is going to freak the fuck out when they find out you’re going to the hospital, but they’ll understand, you’ll make them understand.

“I was going to kill Snoke too.” Rey says, glancing back at the mess of gore behind the both of you, before asking, “Are you going to kill me?”

“If he dies from what you did to him, yes.” You reply honestly.

“Why do you care so much about him?” She wonders aloud, a blood-spattered frown knitting her brows.

“I’m in love with him.” You reply easily, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever said, like killing an entire warehouse of people was no challenge for you.

Because it wasn’t, not if it was for your man, your Kylo.

Rey is silent as she helps you limp across the warehouse, as she corrals you into the back of Kylo’s car, as she drives you to the hospital and calls your family, who calls just about everyone else.

And when the whole fucking crime world shows up to check on you, to make sure you’re okay after the surgery to get that bullet out of your leg, when the paths clear and you see the familiar mop of black hair and the bandaged face of your best friend cutting through the crowd, you smile.

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

In the present, Rey put down her teacup. She had the decency to at least look offended, which you appreciated, even if you knew it was all bullshit.

“Excuse me?” She asked, whispered, unable to speak any louder otherwise she’d be screaming, she’d be shouting, like she was so wont do to.

“Roast beef, onions, hot peppers, bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato and BBQ Sauce.” You replied quickly and with a bit of a smirk, “It’s delicious.”

“You don’t touch pork.” Rey said.

“That makes one of us.” You shot back.

She closed her eyes then, rubbed them with the pads of her fingers, slumped back into the chair. You wondered how it felt to be such a traitor, to be such a liar. You couldn’t ever imagine.

“You know, (Y/N), I have to say.” Rey shook her head, licked across her teeth and regarded you with steely eyes, “Sometimes I wish Kylo had never met you.”

Of all the things you thought she would say, that really wasn’t one of them. You couldn’t say you were surprised, because you weren’t, not really, not given the situation. If you hadn’t met Kylo, who knows where she might be, how successful, how rich, how powerful.

If you hadn’t met Kylo, you wouldn’t have been there to save him that night, wouldn’t have been there to stop the war that was brewing, that had already begun. Maybe she would have won, if you hadn’t been there.

But you were there.

You can’t help but laugh, a little something just at her expense.

“What’s so fucking funny?” She demanded to know, and you really did think she was going to stab you then, with the way she was fuming.

“Nothing,” You made a show of wiping away a tear from your eye, made a show of getting your chuckles under control as you said, “You’re just not the first person to say that to me.”

“Oh?” Rey rolled her eyes, “And here I thought I was original.”

“So did Snoke.” Your smile dropped, and it felt like the whole world went quiet.

Rey’s eyes widened, and she snapped her jaw shut, staring out the window where the vision was still a marbled blurry mess.

“Do you remember? Remember what I did to him?” You asked softly, removing the napkin from your lap, folding it and placing it on the table. You knew there was one last course coming, some sort of ice cream, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to go home, you needed to plan.

“Yes.” Rey said, voice barely above a whisper, because she did – she was there.

“Remember how I spared you?” You asked, snapping your finger and drawing her attention so that she could look at you, so that you could look at her, really look at her.

“Yes.” Rey answered, terrified.

You were no longer all smiles, all warmth. You were no longer sunshine and charm as you had been, as you tried to always be. No, no now you were angry, now you were impatient, now you were offended. Your eyes were cold and hard when you regarded her, when you bore your gaze into hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, leaned in just enough to make her lean in too.

“I’m starting to regret that.” You whispered, before pulling away.

The waiter arrived then with the ice creams, and you returned to your normally cheerful disposition, checking your phone and collecting your belongings.

“Shit, would you look at the time!” You laughed breezily, apologetically to the waiter. “I need to get going, Kylo will be expecting me back home soon. You know how he gets if he’s away from me for too long.” You said to Rey, who was stunned.

“Of course.” She said, mind racing, pulse jumping.

The waiter nodded, handed the ice creams off to someone else passing by so they wouldn’t melt, no use in wasting them on people who wouldn’t eat it.

You eyed the little piece of newspaper that was still on the table, and picked it up.

“Oh, would you mind holding onto this for me? He doesn’t like it when I fill in the puzzle without him, gets all sour.” You winked, folding it up and handing it to Rey.

“Did you finish it?” Her voice shook as she accepted the paper.

“No, there’s one left, I was hoping you could solve it.” You smiled warmly, standing up and putting on your coat, “It’s got me stumped I’m afraid. Forty-two across.”

“Sure I can take a look.” Rey looked like she was in a daze, emotional whiplash making her dizzy.

“Thanks Rey.” You said, excusing yourself to the waiter. “I’ll see you soon.”

You left a few hundred dollars on the table, and made your way out of the tea room.

 You barely made it to the door when you heard a loud FUCK! and the shatter of crystal hitting the polished marble floor, sound of footsteps running, the murmur of nosy socialites wondering what the commotion was all about.

Without even so much as turning around, you smiled to yourself, as the doorman opened the glass doors and you stepped outside.

Your heels clicked on the pavement as you stepped up to the vehicle where Dopheld was holding open the door, a curious look on his face.

“Did you have a nice lunch, Mrs. Ren?” He asked, ever so cheerful and polite, friendly.

“Yes Dopheld, thank you.” You said, sitting in the back of the car and clicking your seatbelt into place. “It was very insightful.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out Kylo’s phone, paused and saved the recording so Kylo could listen in on it as soon as you got back home.

“I’ll bring you back then?” Dopheld asked, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.  

“Yes please, Kylo is going to follow us.” You pulled out a compact mirror and your lipstick from your purse, reapplied your favorite color since the brunch had rubbed some of it away.

“Yes ma’am.” Dopheld pulled onto the street and into the light traffic of the mid-afternoon.

You looked behind you and gave a little wave to your husband, who was in the car behind you. He lifted a palm for a moment before returning it to the wheel, a small wave of his own kind. Smiling, you turned back to face the front properly, and hummed to yourself.

“Oh, Dopheld?” You asked, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Anything, Mrs. Ren.” Your driver was always eager, jumping at the bit to help.

“Do you happen to know a three letter word for, ‘traitor?’” You asked, a coy smile spreading across your face, as his eyes widened in the rear-view mirror.

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

Taggin some palz! <3  @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @riseofkylo @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker @mp938368 @hidingp @goodboybensolo @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @insanita @disaster-rose @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​

[stretchjournalemerson]

We Are, We Aren't

By Connor Gibson

02:51 PM

Dirty piles of slush litter the ground of the Public Garden. The ice on the pond is melting in the sun. Kids scoop up the last traces of snow, melted and hardened and melted into chunks of ice, to throw at each other. The Garden is full of people, tourists and natives alike taking advantage of the 42-degree weather— which, for a Boston February, is “warm”. I’m bundled in my wool coat and hat; others’ Patriots tees show under unzipped hoodies. The blindingly white neck of my Tatte shirt peeks out above my scarf. As always, I’m running early, but I speed-walk anyway.

Google tells me that Back Bay, the neighborhood home to the Tatte where I work, is one of the wealthiest places in the Boston area. It tells me that the bay on which the neighborhood sits was drained in the 1800s, uncovering foul-smelling fens and swamps. Developers poured cement on top of it and chopped it up into rectangles. There’s something there, some cute metaphor comparing designer stores atop a concrete-covered swamp to glossing over the issue of gentrification in favor of a new Sweetgreen.

I’ll write about that later, I think. I exit the Garden at Newbury and Arlington and cross the street. A high-cheekboned model, face blown up to the size of my entire body, peers down at me from the Burberry store window. Her eyelashes are lowered seductively under her huge sunglasses. Excuse me, I hear in my head. A posh British accent. Excuse me, why are you looking at me? I look away.

Letters barrage me as I turn onto Boylston. MK MK MK MK on clutches and purses. Chanel on a storefront. HOMELESS VETERAN PLEASE HELP GOD BLESS, scrawled on torn cardboard with a marker.

I walk into Tatte and take off my coat. VIBE CHECKER blares at me from the temperature gun, neon pink Sharpie on white.

Sarah, the mid manager, points the VIBE CHECKER at my forehead.

How’s my vibe? I ask.

She chuckles. Fine. Symptoms?

All of ‘em, at once.

Go grab an apron and we can talk about the new dinner menu. Her sweatshirt says BREAKFAST SANDWICH. I know that our BREAKFAST SANDWICH sweatshirts retail for $35. I wonder which Michael Kors clutch goes best with a BREAKFAST SANDWICH sweatshirt.

I step into Tatte Connor with his pristine white shirt and bandana and sickly sweet voice— a voice both Connor and not Connor, a voice that is mine and isn’t. Tatte Connor doesn’t create witty metaphors about systemic problems, he fires off meaningless platitudes: I like your outfit, cold out there, isn’t it? I know, I don’t know how I don’t eat them all. He grabs an apron, clocks in, and listens intently as Sarah explains chraimeh sauce.

03:14 PM

I’m at the register today, standing in one place for over five hours. It means hi, welcome in! to everyone who enters. It means my voice will stay in its customer service pitch for long after I leave, and when I walk around a person at Target while picking up yogurt that night, I will automatically announce BEHIND! and scare the shit out of them.

A woman walks in, several shopping bags swinging from her arms. Hi, welcome in! She nods acknowledgement. She wants a medium latte, almond milk and vanilla. We only have a small and a large. She asks to see the large. She’s fine with a large.

I take her phone number. All right! Will that be all for you? And would you like to leave a tip today?

She would not. She announces this so happily that I’m forced to match her tone. All right! I hope it sounds authentic. She takes her card.

I do NOT need a receipt, she proclaims, and walks out the door, bags bumping against the doorframe. The bags are massive, stiff, and glossy. They look expensive, down to the heavy serif font. My stained apron feels incredibly out of place. I wonder if it would be stupid to go get a new apron.

Caleb, the barista, waves his hand. He’s made my drink— it’s on the bar. I nod and ring up three more people before I get enough of a break to go grab it. He’s written my name on the cup and drawn little hearts for the O’s. My heart swells. I take half a sip, and then someone else walks in the door. Hi, welcome in!

03:32 PM

It’s a full-on late-lunch rush. The morning shift has just left, and the crowd hits us in the middle of a change. I’ve been moved off register and over to expo, where I’m doing three people’s jobs at once. Picking up? Todd? Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes? Hi, Doordash? Do you need a menu? Take care! Thank you so much. Hi, welcome in!

A couple enters. They wear matching black puffy jackets with faux fur hoods and matching black sunglasses, similar in size and shape to the glasses on the Burberry model. They don’t remove their hoods or their sunglasses when they step inside. Picking up? Favio? I hand them their drinks. They are not happy.

You should be more thoughtful of your customers, I am told. It’s cold outside, and you shouldn’t keep people waiting. You need to be thinking about that.

I’m so sorry, sir.

I am reprimanded.

You need to move faster,

I’m sorry, sir. We’re doing our best.

I am told that maybe, that is not good enough, eh? And Favio and his girlfriend leave.

Have a good one! Take care! I imagine labels on their backs, as bold and shiny as the ones on their jackets and sunglasses: ASSHOLES.

03:42 PM

I am back on the register. The late-lunch rush has died down. In eighteen minutes, dinner will open up, and we’ll get slammed again— but for now I get to rest. I stack pistachio croissants in a delicate, buttery pyramid, coating my gloves with green dust and oil. Once I’m pretty sure they won’t fall, I head back to the register to count my tips.

Most people tip, but off-handedly, trying not to sound eager or generous. Sure, throw a dollar on there— “there” being a $12 sandwich. I wonder what kind of life they lead where dollars are something they throw. I notice that those thrown dollars never fall into the HOMELESS VETERAN’s plastic cup.

05:08 PM

An older woman enters and beelines for the Grab-and-Go case. She wears a brightly patterned scarf over her hair and carries an enormous H&M bag, full to bursting. She swings the bag onto one shoulder and holds up a small container of chicken salad. How much is it?, she asks. Maybe six or seven dollars, I reply.

She is surprised that I don’t know the exact price. She asks, don’t you work here? She asks, again, how much it is.

Give me one minute to check. It is seven dollars.

She complains that nobody here ever knows anything. She explains to me that it’s just one item, and you should know how much it costs. She tells me, I asked a girl a similar question, just the other day, and she didn’t know either.

I’m sorry about that. Will that be all?

She doesn’t want anything else, and pays with cash. She counts what I give back to her. She drops the chicken salad in her H&M bag, and then she leaves.

Have a great day! In my mind, I replace the H&M on her bag with BOOMER.

I remind myself that I am not an idiot, and that I deal with a lot, all day, and that I am good at my job. I remind myself that I am a human who makes mistakes. I remind myself to smile.

Another woman walks into the store. Hi, welcome in!

06:26 PM

I’m back from break, during which I inhaled a breakfast sandwich and submitted two

discussion posts on my phone. Apparently we have only made $96 so far from the dinner menu. The store is dark. Half of the patio is empty, and the people walking by, bundled up in winter coats, lean against the wind.

I’m sent over to the pass to bag food while my coworker Ayad takes his break. The dinner items come with a side salad and a little bag of pistachio cranberry cookies. Between orders, I stuff napkins into sandwich bags and draw hearts with a Sharpie on the cookie bags. I think of the people receiving them, in brownstones around Boston, living alone, living with girlfriends, living with husbands, living with tiny yappy dogs.

A woman comes in. I walk over to the register. Her hair is dark, curly, and pulled back in a tight ponytail. She carries a WHOLE FOODS canvas bag. She reminds me of my mother. She’s been thinking about getting a challah all day, but now she’s not so sure about the challah versus the pain de mie, and do I have a suggestion for her?

I bake challah at home, I say, but our challah is delicious.

She asks excitedly what recipe I use— I use Smitten Kitchen’s fig and sea salt challah, without the figs. I can’t find another good recipe for just one challah. She uses the New York Times recipe, makes two and freezes one. Smart, I say.

She decides on the pain de mie. She asks how long I’ve been making challah.

When I was at home, I made it every Friday since the start of the pandemic. I wanted to do that here, but I live alone and I can’t eat that much bread.

She’s sure my friends would be glad to eat it, and I agree. I ring up the pain de mie and an orange juice, and she tucks them into her WHOLE FOODS bag. Happy baking, she tells me, and leaves, pulling her hood up to block the wind.

08:32 PM

The close went quickly. Caleb, Ayad, and I walk out the door. Our manager stays behind, counting money, shutting everything down for the night. Lights flick off one by one. The wind bites my skin and whips my hair off my forehead. I button up my coat. Caleb and Ayad walk down the steps of the Arlington stop, waving goodbye, and I start the cold walk home.

Google tells me that the drought of the summer of 2016 brought many Back Bay buildings dangerously close to rotting and crumbling. Their foundations sit on man-made land, supported by wooden pilings. The drought brought the water table close to the pilings, putting them at risk for decay.

There’s something there, something about how the tiniest bit of stress can expose the problems lurking below a neighborhood so put-together and pristine on the surface. I’ll write about that later, I think.

It’s hard to put how I feel right now into words. I feel homesick. I feel happy. I feel tired. I want to collapse onto my sofa and pass out. I want to eat way too much cheesecake. I want to feel, just for a few minutes, like the people I welcome into Tatte.

I want to roll out dough on the dining room table, showing my mother how much it’s risen when she walks through the door with a WHOLE FOODS canvas bag full of groceries. I want to keep talking about bread. I want to work at a job where everyone who comes in asks me about recipes; where nobody plops their Chanel bags on the counter, knocking dinner menus left and right while digging in their MK MK MK clutch for their platinum VISA; where Favio and his girlfriend realize that the people bringing them their soy macchiatos are people; where older women understand that I have to remember three thousand things a day and sometimes none of those things are the price of chicken salad. I want to thank the New York Times Challah Lady for making my day a little less shit and reminding me why I even.

I could work at Starbucks, or Caffe Nero, or JAHO Coffee Roaster & Wine Bar. Sometimes, when people take their masks off inside to snap pictures of them biting into donuts for their Instagrams, I think about working at Target.

Then I bring home a whole cake, or I get handed a free iced latte with my name written on the top and little hearts drawn around it, or I talk about Boston winters with a customer excited to learn I’ve also moved from the Bay Area. I strike up a conversation with a man waiting for the restroom— he wants to know about the history of Tatte in Boston, and I tell him what I can.

I pet a very small dog. I hand the last almond croissant to a woman who tells me she is overjoyed that we have one left. She tells me that she stops by after work every day to try and buy an almond croissant. More often than not, we’re sold out.

I’m happy I could get you one today, I say, and I mean it.

I want to think that Back Bay is this woman— Almond Croissant Woman— or the New York Times Challah Lady. At times I think Back Bay is Favio and his girlfriend, MK MK MK clutches, $7 chicken salads, the Burberry model’s poster-sized glare. I want to think these things, but I know that Back Bay is none of them.

I know that Tatte Back Bay is just a coffee shop. I want to call it a microcosm of humanity, a shiny white petri dish for me to peer into. I want to claim that I know these people, that Favio and his girlfriend are selfish assholes, that the boomer really does value chicken salad over basic kindness and gratitude. I want to slap labels on them, thick-serif RICH KID, glossy embossed DADDY’S MONEY, CHALLAH LADY (GOOD PERSON?) in cursive scrawl. The truth is that I don’t know them, and I will never know them. Maybe Favio and his girlfriend were fighting that day. Maybe the boomer’s husband had just died. Maybe Challah Lady ran over a cat with her Subaru on the way home. Maybe maybe maybe.

Google tells me that Back Bay has a population of 16,427. The median age of those people is 35.3 years. Over nine thousand of them are white-collar workers. Their average household income is over $127k. Most of them are women. Most of them walk to work.

Google doesn’t tell me what challah recipe they use. It doesn’t tell me whether they feed the cookies that come with their cod in chraimeh sauce to their small, yappy dogs. It doesn’t tell me whether they notice the hearts I drew on their bags, or whether they smile before throwing those bags away.

We are what we say to customer service workers, and we aren’t. We are our jobs, our genders, our hobbies, our incomes, and we aren’t. We are the hi, welcome in and the thanks, take care and all the other facades we present to people, and we aren’t.

I walk up the steps of my apartment building, unlock and open the door, then close it behind me. Tatte Connor— the Connor I am and am not— stays out in the cold, perched on a wooden patio chair, shivering in his perfectly white work shirt: ready for me to step into him tomorrow.

Acknowledgements:

My inspiration for this essay came from working at Tatte and getting to know, through the lens of customer service, the people of Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood. As anybody who has ever worked in customer service will know, working with people is the best and worst part of the job. I’ve had some truly frustrating interactions, and I’ve also met some people that brightened up the rest of my day. When I’ve been on my feet for five hours, maintaining a customer service persona, and dealing with everything else that customer service entails, it’s easy to assign labels to people and make snap judgements about them based on a one-minute interaction.

My goal for this essay was to go deeper than that. The assignment that prompted this essay was to compose a profile, creating— in the words of my WR 121 E47 professor Stephen Shane— a “dominant impression that captures the complexity of your subject”. While I wanted to profile the people of Back Bay, I’m aware that I will never be able to understand their complexity through these tiny snapshots, and I tried to convey that struggle in this essay. I’d like to thank Prof. Shane for assigning this essay, and I’d like to thank the customers of Tatte Back Bay for their inspiration.

[ranitapdf]

I'm speaking this into existence

ten years from now I'll be living in a reformed cortijo with at least 7 friends (most of them women, and maybe a couple of men if they promise to behave) in the atlantic coast of andalucía. there'll be enough rooms for us and for people who come to have dinner and stay too late to drive back home. we'll have chickens and cows and a couple of house cats. there's a big ass table in the backyard where we have breakfast in summer. we'll plant vines and fig trees, a lemon tree and a couple of orange trees. we'll have a garden with strawberries in spring and watermelon in summer. all of our books will be mixed up in the communal library, and movie nights will be mandatory. the air will be easy to breathe. everyone will be happy and safe. there'll be a lot of humidity in winter but we'll have a fireplace and hand-knitted quilts. maybe I'll have a baby and name her after my mother and she'll grow up happy and loved and motherhood won't be so draining when I have my found family backing me up. I'll write and sell books and publish poetry, but some stories will be reserved just for my friends. and we'll grow old and maybe some people will leave and some people will come, and that would be okay because friends can never be too far away when you carry them in your heart. and some day I'll go and that day I'll look back at everything we've created and I'll be happy with the life i lived. and I'll go in peace within hearing distance of the ocean, the cows, the wind and my lovely family. and everything will be okay.

[jamiebluewind]

A Flame In The Dark: Chapter 2

Fandom: Dimension 20, Fantasy High

Word Count: 3575

Perspective: Riz

Chapter 1 (sorry it wont format!): https://jamiebluewind.tumblr.com/post/189152152044/a-flame-in-the-dark-chapter-1

Notes: Hurt/Comfort. This chapter is much fluffier than the last, but still mind the tags! Special thanks to my beta readers @plutosfury and @winterpower98

Characters: Riz Gukgak, Fig Faeth, Adaine Abernant, Tracker O'Shaughnessey, Sandra Lynn Faeth, Cathilda Ceíli, Boggy the Froggy, and unnamed OC (implied Fabian, Kristen, Gorgug, and Ragh)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, violence mention, murder mention, abuse mention, healed injuries, child abuse mention, child neglect, recovering from starvation, dark themes, trauma, bugs as food (please message me if I missed any)

Summary: The group makes it back to camp, Riz still cradling their guest.

*****

Check out this awesome art inspired by Chapter 1!

https://jamiebluewind.tumblr.com/post/189168730249/winterpower98-drew-some-doodles-of-the-little

https://plutosfury.tumblr.com/post/189155204080/i-was-told-by-a-certain-someone-cough

*****

By the time they reached camp, Riz's arms were aching. He was never the strongest one in the group and the sleeping child in his arms had tested what little strength he did have. It wasn't a weight thing. She was actually very light (if he was honest, she probably weighed less than his briefcase). It was just a combination of things. Post battle fatigue. Hiking for a couple hours. Tired muscles holding something in an odd position. It was worth it though. She looked like she hadn't slept in a long time and needed a nap more than he needed arms that didn't hate him.

He had actually been planning on getting her some food out of his pack after she was healed. She would be hungry then and the food would be less likely to come back up. What he hadn't planned on was her dozing off in his arms. He wondered what had been going on in her little body that Fig's magic had targeted. Whatever it was, the relief she felt was enough to make her fall asleep so hard that she was dead to the world. It took both arms to carry her after that.

He shifted, leaning his body back so that more of her weight was on his chest, and held her awkwardly for a moment while he placed his now free hand on a nearby rock to help him sit down. Normally he would try to find something to sit on to keep from messing up his clothes, but he was tired and filthy and out of fucks. He let out a breath, his throbbing feet grateful for the relief. He shifted the child a bit to give his arms a break too. She didn't seem to mind... or even wiggle for that matter. Riz got a little chuckle out of it.

The others were off getting everything set up for the night. Tracker was preping the moon haven. The campfire crackled to life as they got out various supplies. Quiet chatter filled the air.

Adaine stood nearby, leaning against a tree. She was quiet, only occasionally adding to the chatter or shaking her head at their friends' antics. The spell she'd been working on for most of the hike was probably ready, but left uncast. Riz smiled. She was probably holding it until the child woke up. She had always been the braincell of the group. He wasn't sure why he was surprised.

Riz wasn't sure how long he had been lost in thought when the smell of food cooking hit him. He felt her twitch and looked down to see a little nose twitch, followed by sleepy eyes blinking open. There was a tiny jump as she took in her surroundings and her brain caught up with what was going on.

[Good morning], Riz said with a smile. She looked up at him with her eyes barely open and yawned. [You up for something to eat?]

Any hint that she was tired was gone in an instant. Her ears perked up and she looked at him with wide eyes. She looked so much like a puppy at meal time that Riz was surprised that she didn't start pawing at his shirt! [You can't have a lot at one time], he told her. Her brows lowered as she gave him an angry pout. [BUT, I'll make sure you get a lot of small meals to keep from overloading your stomach and you can have as much to drink as you want.] After a moment of deliberation, her faced relaxed. He supposed that was as close as he was gonna get to her agreeing with him.

Riz looked towards the campfire and the food cooking over it. It smelled good sure, but a little too heavy and vegetable filled for a goblin who's gone without food for a while. At least he knew how to get her what she needed.

"Hey Adaine," he called out. The elf looked away from the group and over towards Riz. "Could you come over here real quick?"

Adaine leaned up, wiping invisible dust off her legs before she made her way over towards the pair. She slowed as she approached, making eye contact with the child. Oops. He almost forgot. [This is 'Adaine'], Riz told the child. [I need her to come over here. Is that okay?]

The child looked at Adaine and then back at Riz. She watched Adaine as she carefully made her way over and sat down across from them. The child didn't seem to mind Adaine's presence. She looked more curious than anything. Riz wondered if it was a magical ability from Boggy or Adaine herself.

"I have a spell ready for her," Adaine said. She looked at the child as she spoke to Riz, her voice a steady calming tone. "I'll need to use it before I can do anything else. It will allow her to understand us, but only for an hour. I have to touch her for it to work."

Riz nodded and looked down. He rolled the words over in his brain, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. ['Adaine' can... make you understand what everybody is saying for a little while if you let her touch you. It's kinda like what 'Fig' did, only 'Adaine' doesn't need music to make it work.]

The child was still a moment as she regarded Adaine. Then, she reached out a hand. Adaine slowly reached out, closing the distance. As she touched the small hand, her eyes shone with a blue light. It only lated a moment. The child examined her hand and looked back up at Adaine.

"Hello," Adaine said with a soft smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The child's eyes grew wide as she stared at Adaine. She blinked several times.

"My name is Adaine Abernant," she said to the child. Riz wanted to laugh at how formal she sounded. "I would like to be your friend, if you'll let me of course." The child only responded with more blinking.

"I want to try something," Adaine continued, "just to be sure that you can understand me. I don't want you to feel obligated to talk. You should feel comfortable around us. So all you have to do is nod," she said as she nodded, "or shake your head," she said, demonstrating. "A nod means yes. A head shake means no. Do you understand?" There was a pause followed by a single curt nod. There was a reason that Adaine was the braines of the party. "Fantastic," she said with a smile.

"Now," Adaine said, turning her attention towards Riz, "I understand that there was something you wanted to ask me?"

Riz had almost let it slip his mind. "We need to get some fluids in her," he said. "Some food too. Could you get her some of that electrolyte stuff for kids to start?"

Adaine nodded and reached in her pocket. She pulled out a plain water bottle filled with slightly thick liquid and handed it to the child. The child tilted her head and reached out, sticking her hand in Adaine's pocket only to jerk a bit and lean over farther, speading the pocket open to look inside. Adaine hid a laugh behind her hand.

"It's a magical jacket," Adaine told her. "I can pull things I want out of it... as long as they aren't too expensive." Adaine blinked and looked like she had an idea. "I'll pull out a few things for you if you let me get you cleaned up first."

The child considered for a moment and then nodded. Adaine cast prestidigatation. Riz was thankful that he was in range.

The child's hair seemed to expand as the weight of the mud was lifted.  Her tangle of curls were redish-orange at the base, but transitioned into a pale orange at the end. It was like she was suddenly haloed by a mass of warm flame.

The color of her skin was also a surprise. Before, she had reminded him of a caramel latte, but underneath the dirt and grime was something closer to butterscotch. It was a warm yellow-orange that complemented her bright hair.

The child held up a hand to examine her clean skin. Riz cursed himself for being too perceptive. Without the dirt in the way, he could see scars litterered across her skin. Some were faded and small. Others looked like they must have been deep when they were fresh. He felt the rage trying to bubble up in him again as he silently wished that he had taken his time killing that bastard. Breathe in. And out. Just be grateful he's dead now. And in hell. Definitely in hell... where Bill Seacaster is. Huh. Maybe Fabian's dad would be willing to double murder him? The thought helped him relax a little.

"Much better," Adaine said with a nod. "I'll get you some better clothes after you've had something to eat. Oh Riz?" she asked.

"Hum?" Riz answered, still a bit lost in thought.

"What would be safe for her to eat?" Adaine asked. "I'm honestly unfamiliar with goblin dietary needs and you always seem willing to eat anything, so I'm at a bit of a loss."

Riz thought back to all the times he was sick as a kid. What food his mom would fix. What to avoid. "Probably meat with no salt and not a lot of fat," he said. "Chicken. Ham. That kind of thing. Maybe some rice... oh!" he said and then blushed. This was gonna be a little embarrassing to explain. "A lot of goblin moms make this dish when their kids get sick. It's... kinda like a rice ball?" He screwed his face. "No. Not exactly. But similar enough I guess. It is a ball of rice. Sometimes the rice is mixed with cricket flour, but not always. They also have this... bug filling. Like a puree of earthworms, crickets, meal worms... it's easy on our stomachs and has a lot of protein. Plants too, but they have already been broken down, so they wont bother us when we have a sick stomach. We... call them bug balls."

Riz stopped and looked up at Adaine. He expected to see her wrinkling her nose as most people do, but she looked more curious than anything. She thought for a moment before reaching her hand in her pocket and pulled out what looked to be three bug balls. She looked over at the child, about to say something when a little hand bolted out and grabbed one. It was gone in a flash. "I was going to say that maybe Riz should test these first," she said, covering up the remaining two to avoid them being snatched up as well, "but I guess you made that decision for me." She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "Riz?" she asked, holding out one of the remaining balls, "Would you mind?"

Riz took the bug ball and bit down. It was hard not to inhale his food like he normally did, but he needed to make sure they were made right. "Not bad," he said as he ate the rest in a blink of an eye. "Maybe a little less salt? At least until she's feeling better." He looked down at the kid eyeing the remaining ball. "You can have the other one later," he told her. She pouted. "We gotta make sure your stomach handles the first one okay." He picked up the sports bottle and handed it to her, "For now, have some of this."

She looked at the bottle and tilted her head. Riz fought the urge to facepalm when he realized she wouldn't know what to do with it. "Like this," Riz said as he pulled a drink from the bottle and then handed it to her. She examined the bottle, took a drink,... and then made a terrible face, shaking her head at the bottle.

Adaine laughed. "I don't believe she's used to sweets," she said, pulling another water bottle out of her pocket. "This one," she said, pointing to the new bottle, "is just plain water. I'll refill it as much as you like, but I would also like you to finish the other bottle... if you can."

The child hesitantly took the new bottle and took a sip before nearly sucking it dry, squeezing the bottle to make the water come out faster. Adaine pulled a large container of water out of her pocket and refilled the bottle before handing it back to her.

"Could I share some tea with her later?" Adaine asked. Amber eyes looked at her, waiting on an explanation. "Oh! Hum..." she said, pausing to think. "Tea is like... well... you take hot water and mix special flowers or leaves with it to make it taste different." The child's brows furrowed at this. "It can also do stuff like... help you sleep or keep you awake. It depends on the flower or leaf." A nod followed.

"I don't see why not," Riz answered. "Just... maybe avoid the sugar."

A cheeky grin spread across Adaine's face. "I was planning on her actually drinking it, Riz," she said with a smirk.

The child handed Adaine the empty water bottle. She refilled it again and handed it back. The child put it back to her mouth and lazily sucked at the bottle, her desperation mostly gone.

Adaine looked at the child, studying something for a few moments before reaching into her coat. She pulled out a handfull of solid colored cloth and held it up for inspection. It was a simple sleeveless sundress. Instead of the fiery color Riz was expecting it to be, the dress was closer to a cornflower blue mixed with a splash of green. It looked soft, contrasting the rough burlap tunic she was currently wearing. The bottom hung losely, reminding Riz of a flower petal. There was a decent sized half moon pocket in the center of the chest, stitching dividing it into two smaller sections.

"Well?" Adaine asked, looking from the dress to the child. "What do you think?" Adaine was met with wide eyes and an enthusiastic nod. "Well then, let's get you out of those rags and into something fancy!"

The child stood up and took off her borrowed hat, placing it gently on Riz's lap. She grabbed the bottom of her tunic and Riz barely had time to look away before she pulled it off.

He realized then that the others had been watching the three of them as the group of teens made little sounds of surprise before turning their heads, save Fig who just said "huh." which he found a little weird. The adults mostly seemed to get a laugh out of it.

There was a beat of silence. "Oh..." Adaine said. "Hum, well. Oh Riz?" Adaine sounded nervous. "Do um... do goblins normally have tails?"

"Um... no?" Riz answered, a little confused. "I mean, it's a recessive trait. It CAN happen, but it's kinda rare. It's usually just a nub though. Why?" Riz asked. "Does she have one?"

"Yes..." Adaine answered, trailing off. "It's a very nice tail," she said sweetly, probably to the child. "Arms up please!"

"Dude," Fig said. She had moved closer and seemed to be staring at the child. "It aint a nub. It's long enough for her to wear it like a belt!" Riz's eyes went wide. I mean, sure it was possible. There were a few tribes scattered about that had them. He had just never seen one in person.

"Dude... you look so cool!" Fig said enthusiastically. "I hope if I ever grow a tail, it looks as cool as yours. You should leave it out. Show it off."

"Is it safe for me to look now?" Riz asked, still facing away.

"Oh!" Adaine answered. "Sorry Riz. Yes. You can look now."

Riz turned around and looked at the child. The dress fit her well, the bottom hanging lose and moving as she twisted softly side to side. Her hands were stuffed in pockets hidden in the folds of the dress, her shoulders hunched forward. The dress hung past her knees. A slinder tail hung down past the end of the dress, curling up to avoid the ground. The tail twitched slightly, maybe from anxiety over having it exposed, maybe just because of nerves in general. Riz tried not to imagine why she would feel the need to hide it under her clothes. He failed.

"You look great!" Riz said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I like all the pockets. And it looks soft." She smiled just a crack and nodded as she continued to sway and watch the dress move.

"It cool," Fig said, tapping her chin, "but it could be cooler." She pulled out her bag and started digging for... something. Amber eyes watched her as she pulled out random jewelry, shaking her head and muttering to herself as she went. "Ah ha!" she said as she came up triumphant. She held up a necklace with a long dark chain. Hanging below it was an orange teardrop pendant, sparkling in the light. "Bought this back on Leviathan," she stated as she looked towards the child. "It was practically MADE for you. You want?"

The child paused before responding with an enthusiastic nod. Fig walked over and crouched down before handing over the necklace. The child held it up, examining the stone. Fig stayed crouched as she looked, waiting until amber eyes met hers. "You're supposed to wear it," Fig said pointing at the necklace. She was answered with a curious gaze as the child's head tilted to the side.

"Here," Fig said "I'll show you." She took the necklace from tiny hands and put it over the child's head. Despite the long chain, it couldn't get past her massive tangle of hair. It just sat there on top of her curls like a hair accessory. "Holy shit you have a lot of hair!" Fig said with a laugh. She reached out and tossled it a bit with her fingers. The child didn't seem to mind.

"Well," Fig said, patting her thigh, "that didn't work. Let me just..." Fig trailed off as she undid the clasp and put the chain around the child's neck before fastening it back together. "There we go!" she said, once again triumphant. "Looks great on ya kid."

Fig wasn't lying. The fiery stone suited her. She also seemed to love the way the light shined through it and the smooth texture.

While watching her, he caught Adaine fumbling for something out if the corner of his eye. He looked over just in time to see her pull out a large sunhat. "I noticed that the light seems to bother your eyes," she said. "Would this help?"

Tiny hands took the hat and examined it before nodding and placing it on her head. The hair inside the hat squished down to fit, making the hair outside the hat stick out. She adjusted the rim a bit and sighed happily. She nodded at Adaine again. Adaine smiled back.

"Would you like to meet Boggy?" Adaine asked. The child tilted her head. Adaine took out her frog and placed him in the child's lap. He let out a soft ribbit.

"No no no no no..." Riz yelped as he jumped up to place his hand between Boggy and the child's open mouth. "Boggy is not food," Riz clarified. He tried to ignore Adaine's eyes going wide over her pet nearly becoming someone's dinner. "He's a pet." She tilted her head. "Oh, um..." he took a moment to try and think of a way to explain. "A pet is... an animal that you... love? Love. Yeah. And um... they are like a friend. They help you out like... well Boggy helps Adaine not get upset and Baxter," he said, pointing to the griffin, "he can fly and stuff." God he was bad at this.

Somehow, she seemed to get the message. She put her hand on top of the frog. He croaked happily. She looked over at Riz and back at Boggy, the corners of her mouth tilted up slightly. She then started 'petting' the frog. At least, that's what Riz thought she was doing as she repeatedly slapped the frog's back. Boggy didn't seem to mind the rough treatment though, his body squishing and wiggling with the movement. Her eyes sparkled. A little sound escaped from her. It was rough and quiet, but it was without a doubt a giggle. Riz wondered if it was possible to die from cute.

The child stoped in the middle of a 'pet' and scrunched her face in concentration before going back to abusing Boggy. Sandra Lynn and Cathilda hummed in the background like they knew something the others didn't. "Did you remember to put her in pull ups?" Sandra Lynn asked.

"Um... no?" Adaine answered back, a bit confused. Riz however had already connected the dots.

"Well then," Cathilda said, "it's a good thing ya have prestidigatation dear because otherwise that would be a proper mess!"

They looked down at the muddy spot forming on the ground, quickly followed by a very distinct smell.

"Welcome to potty training kids!" Sandra Lynn yelled. She was enjoying this entirely too much.

*****