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mariacallous · 6 months ago

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Back in the 1980s, when polenta was the hot new item on restaurant menus, I was eager to try it. I knew it was a traditional Italian dish, but it was foreign to everyone else, including me. I bought a package of cornmeal, began the preparation, and when it was done I realized I had been eating it all my life. It was the same dish Jonathan Harker ate before his encounter with Count Dracula in Bram Stoker’s novel, known in the American South as “cornmeal mush” and “pap” in South Africa. But I knew it as mamaliga, which had been a staple in my grandma’s Romanian kitchen.

Because mamaliga was such an essential in our lives, I didn’t realize that most of my Jewish friends had never heard of it. The hallways in the buildings we lived in all had the same familiar scents of Ashkenazi staples we all knew — chicken soup, challah, braising briskets, and roasting chickens. Shared values and menus.

Except when it came to mamaliga, which I learned was limited to those of us whose ancestors were from Romania.

While our family was dining on cornmeal mush, everyone else was eating kasha varnishkes, a dish I ate regularly only after tasting it at my future mother-in-law’s house (it was love at first bite).

It all has to do with geography, I think. Polenta/mamaliga is based on cornmeal, which had been unknown anywhere except the Americas, where corn is indigenous. Christopher Columbus and other Spanish and Portuguese explorers brought corn to western Europe and Africa, where it flourished. Cornmeal became a staple.

Turkish traders noticed corn grain in the markets of Africa and brought some “granoturco” back to Southeast Europe, including the region we now know as Romania, which then belonged to the Ottoman Empire. In 1692, a Romanian nobleman tried some, thought it worthy, and introduced it to Romania. It became the country’s national dish.

A few years ago I visited “the old country,” including the city of Iasi, where my grandparents were born, and laid stones on the graves of my great-grandparents who are buried in the one remaining Jewish cemetery (when my grandparents lived there, the city was about one-third Jewish).

Naturally we sampled mamaliga, which is ever-present on every restaurant menu. It’s usually served as a side dish, much like any starch, but in my childhood, my grandma, and later on my mother, served mamaliga in a multitude of ways, including our favorite, mamaliga cu branza si smetana – mamaliga with cheese and sour cream, served for lunch or as a side dish at dairy dinners.

In my own kitchen, I’ve learned that mamaliga is incredibly versatile. I’ve used it as a substitute for potatoes, noodles, and rice (complete with butter, sauce, or gravy). I’ve served it as a full meal, as a topping for brisket or chicken pot pie filling, with mushroom ragout, and with caramelized onions and cheese. I’ve even mixed it with molasses and cream to make a quick Indian pudding.

The leftovers are spectacular, too. In fact, in Romanian households they make extra mamaliga to pour into a loaf pan, let it firm up, and then cut slices to fry to crispy goodness. I’ve served fried slices of “Romanian toast” for breakfast, topped them with gravy or cheese for lunch, or with a fried egg for dinner.

It’s no wonder that the Romanians called dried ground corn mamaliga, a word that translates to “food of gold.” It’s a tribute not merely to the grain’s beautiful yellow color, but to its adaptability. Whatever you call it, this dish is an enduring winner and, as far as I am concerned, another treasure of the Ashkenazi kitchen.

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until-another-one-comes · 8 months ago

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I think Nacha could be a chef at a diner or at some regular restaurant. How good of a chef is she? Who knows? Probably good enough.

I headcanon that she began cooking at a young age because her mother wanted to teach her and Nacha wanted to help around the house. She would practice cooking as a hobby until it evolved into something she’s passionate about. Her special dishes are stews and soups but she’s the best at baking, specifically cakes.

She makes homemade sandwiches for Anastacha’s lunch. If Nacha has a long shift at work, she would make sure to leave some leftover stew for Anastacha but when she’s usually at home, she would make something healthy but it’s those basic white people meals like meat with a side of mashed potatoes and vegetables. Like the good mother she is, Nacha wants to make sure Anastacha is eating well and healthy. While Anastacha would brush it off with the usual “whatever”, that’s her way of saying she loves the food. She may not show it but eating her mom’s homemade meals brings comfort to her whenever she comes home from school.

Nacha also shared her meals with the neighbours like the Stilnkys, the Cappucins, Margarette, any of them who would accept her dishes, even Francis. Although she and Francis aren’t that close anymore, Nacha would gift him some sandwiches and coffee to eat whenever he drops by to visit. Francis does enjoy the food he’s given.

I love this headcanon! I really like HCs that expand on something seemingly simple about a character. It feels very down to earth but makes them feel so much more real and grounded which makes them more interesting IMO.

Okay that aside- I think she works at a restaurant, and while there's no proof I like to believe that the place she's working at is a pretty popular and highly established restaurant. Which means, yes, she's a damn good chef.

THAT IS SO CUTE YES I FULLY SUBSCRIBE TO THIS- interests that starts from childhood are almost always the strongest, especially when its something so personal. Thats so cute, imagine baby Nacha cooking with her mother not realising it would play a big role in her life later on.

Yup, Nacha's a great mom making sure her precious little darling girl is eating healthy. Reminds me of my mom.

I like to think she still does that even when Ana's already grown if she works or goes to college near their home.

AWWW I love that! Sharing her meals with the neighbors, see this is what I mean when I say headcanons like these are so precious and makes me love these characters even more. Maybe she makes soup for any neighbors that got sick, and bake cakes whenever theres someone's birthday!

That's really sweet. I like to believe that she and Francis still have a pretty good relationship regardless of what happened between them.

#that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #tnmn #anon ask #that's not my neighbor nacha #tnmn nacha #nacha mikaelys

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clatterbane · 1 year ago

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Good eating tonight, for me at least! At least we do have plenty of assorted pickles, and like salsa and cheese for Me. C to doctor up the strange ethnic fare. I am still way more of a pinto bean fan.

I'd been feeling the urge for a while, but this weather finally drove me to get a pot of beans going. Pressure cooked because I did not soak them in advance, and using up this piece of ham rind that was lurking in the freezer. Saved for just such purposes (maybe pea soup) in the first place, but I forgot it was even there until I ran across it a couple of days ago. And immediately stuck it the fridge to evaluate, with beans on the brain. 😊

I actually cut a little piece off the end for a taste test. Looking pretty sad, but it wasn't tasting noticeably freezer burnt or going rancid or anything. So, I guess that's a go ahead.

On the side, of course we're getting cornbread with the usual meal compromise these days. I think I can probably track down some of the decent TRS stuff without having to order it from the UK, but haven't done it yet. Gotta make do!

I may make a full skillet load instead of aiming for a smaller batch tonight, and plan on saving whatever leftover cornbread I don't devour for making dressing. Especially with the holidays coming up. 'Tis always the season for poultry with dressing as far as I'm concerned, but that's an excellent excuse to make plenty even if nobody in the house is actually celebrating anything other than stuffing our faces. Mr. C feels the same way about his Christmas ham and accoutrements, and I won't be sorry to get some of that either.

Honestly don't feel like bothering with any fried potatoes or vegetables tonight to round things out. No greens on hand anyway, though we do have some cabbage that would be good but I don't feel like messing around with. So, we're going lazy basic style here. Got the fundamentals covered, at least!

Fixing a bigger batch of beans than usual of late, because any leftovers will be handy to keep for refried. Or just to have some ready soup beans to pull out of the freezer later.

#food #beans #hillbilly night #pinto beans #cornbread

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tiptapricot · 2 years ago

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thoughts on the mk boys and their tastes in foods? cuisines, fav snacks, how they might bicker about things, whatever u feel <3

I love talking ab food preferences hehehhehe this kinda ended up being a look at their relationships with food in general as well which was actually rlly fun to explore! (Obvs food talk, as well as talk of the system’s childhood, food sensory issues, and specifically issues with eating due to neurodivergence, not any ED stuff, but still, if any of those r squicks for you 🤙)

Marc

I think Marc’s the most rigid when it comes to his foods. He’s not adverse to trying new things, he just keeps his circles small and knows what he likes

Bar a few specific cases, I don’t think he’s much of a mushy/goopy food person, or a sweet tooth

Soup’s fine (he loves bean soups and soups with meat bc they’re hearty), some puddings, some dips (like hummus and guacamole), but he’s not a huge fan of tomato products in tomato form (pizza is fine, bruschetta wouldn’t be) or things that feel slimy (like pasta with Alfredo sauce, or uncooked beans in sauce)

Some exceptions include Chicago deep dish, star fruit, salsa, and pickled veggies

I think he generally likes crunchy things like chips, carrots, apples, crackers, and more neutral baked goods like breads and bagels. He’s absolutely a bagel with cream cheese on the go kind of guy, nostalgic and tasty (though for his preference the ones in Chicago beat out New York and London any day)

He doesn’t mind sweet stuff, it’s just not his favorite. He’ll have a danish every now and then, maybe a brownie, but it’s just not stuff he actively seeks out

I think he still tries to keep roughly kosher, out of familiarity and comfort and connection, but I could also see him only adhering to certain rules (like no pork but good w cheeseburgers), or it slipping if he’s in deep emotional distress or especially bitter at his parents, but he does try

I think he knows how to cook pretty decently, maybe not top of the line but he can absolutely make a meal, and usually tries to make stuff from scratch to avoid shopping too much. He’s not a huge fan of crowded stores or having to make lists and plan meals, so sticking to basics and stuff he knows, stuff he can make again and again and have as leftovers later, is usually how he likes to do things

He tries to recreate family comfort foods he remembers from his childhood sometimes (like hamantaschen with guava filling, local deli potato salads, their Passover tamales), kind of as a coping mechanism, and it’s never quite the same, but every time he gets a bit closer to whatever dish he’s attempting, it feels more worth it to keep trying

Overall he likes stuff that’s hearty, stuff that he can eat that will last him most of the day. It’s the kind of food he relied on in the military, and when he needed to spend as much time out of the house as possible when he was younger, and it works nowadays to keep the body fed and healthy when dealing with executive dysfunction and memory issues

Having stuff that can hold him over and that he doesn’t have to worry about too much creates a reliable structure he can depend on, familiarity in chaos, and so that’s what a lot of his food choices circle back to

It’s another grounding mechanism for him, another piece of the puzzle and routine

Steven (I will b using American n British terms interchangeably just ignore it)

Steven’s pretty British and snacky with his food, and obviously he’s vegan and keeps kosher, but beyond that he’s not too picky, and isn’t the best when it comes to taking care of the body with food

He likes sweets and fruits and chips, stuff like blueberries and nuts that he can eat absentmindedly while he reads, or that he can stuff in a ziploc and take to work

Crisp sandwiches and beans on toast are big too, and he uses vegan butter and cheese to make them, usually for breakfast or after work, and those are both comfort meals for him, ones that are quick and easy and don’t take much effort

He gets vegan sausage rolls from the store or makes them himself if the premade brands aren’t certified, and he likes those for breakfasts on days off when he can have a bit more of a lazy day in, make some tea, put on a long documentary, hang back with a bigger breakfast, that kind if thing. He makes Yorkshire puddings and hash browns for those kind of days if he has the energy

Yorkshire puddings are also a general favorite of his, and he usually leans into having them more for dessert, with big scoops of vegan ice cream after he’s had a bad day (his favorite flavor is vanilla but he experiments with weird flavors a lot)

Cereal’s a big one too, usually with almond milk and he oscillates between liking sweetened or unsweetened kinds more

I think the spiciest thing he eats semi regularly would be stuff like jalapeño potato chips or slightly spicy veggie dips, he’d probably consider brown sauce kind of spicy, and I think his tolerance is low

Steven also absolutely falls into the neurodivergent trap of food being in the background, something that easily slips his mind, or when it doesn’t, ends up at the mercy of convenience

None of his foods are bad on their own, but the issues arise when all he’s eaten in a day is two pieces of beans on toast and it’s already bedtime, or when he gets so engrossed in reading he doesn’t get up for six hours and suddenly feels lightheaded

He tries his best, he just never thinks about it much and usually falls into things that are quick when he does, which can easily lead to him eating sandwiches and almonds for a whole week

He also has some sensory issues that can muddle things, like a usual go to food being fine one moment and disagreeable to his mouth the next, and if he can’t find anything to eat it’s easy for him to just shrug it off and forget

Reminders started popping up on his phone at some point (totally not from Marc) to check in and make sure he’s gotten some food in him, and those have helped loads, but it’s still not perfect

Post Cairo Marc helps more, checking in with Steven when the body feels funky and usually having the spoons to cook between the two of them, so they end up having stuff available to grab in the fridge when they need. Marc even tries to label the stuff that’s non-vegan as well as which things have meat and which have dairy, and even when their fridge gets cluttered and extremely disorganized the care in it always makes Steven smile

Jake

Jake’s a big proponent of good food

His time in front over the years has been short enough that he always tries to make eating worth it, so he’ll seek out a good solid meal whenever he can

I think he spent a lot of time perusing Chicago and New York’s hole in the wall shops or food trucks, and has a pretty wide taste because of that

He doesn’t really keep kosher? Like sometimes he’ll lean into it if it suits the situation, or pisses Khonshu off, or it feels… right to him, but his relationship with shit is complicated and he fluctuates a lot, and it’s definitely not the defining thing that dictates his food choices

He likes pizza (New York style) and hotdogs (Colombian style, Chicago style, or ones all decked out like wrapped in bacon with carmelized onions, jalepeños, tomatoes, mayo, etc), and is also partial to wet beef sandwiches

Lots of Latino comfort food as well, like chicken pepián, Cuban coffee with sweet bread, Guatemalan empanadas, tacos al pastor, pupusas, etc.

He’s hates eating warm food cold, so whenever he eats Steven or Marc’s leftovers he always has to warm them up, otherwise it hits bad in his brain. He doesn’t have many sensory issues with food beyond that though

He was recommended to Gena’s by some acquaintances in London after hanging around a few bars and clubs with a high Latino community, and her food is the first stuff that really hits for him there. It’s not like it’s the only good food he’s tried in London, but something about Gena’s just clicks and becomes comforting

He also has a pretty strong sweet tooth, and will especially seek out sugar for comfort. He loves tres leches and while he’s also a straight black coffee enjoyer, Gena’s tintos always hit just right. He’s also always down for a classic slice of apple pie a la mode

Even though my take on Gena has her specializing in Colombian food, she makes Jake some of his favorite dishes once they get to know each other better, hoping to bring some of that comfort to the new area. She surprises him with her own take on rellenitos during one particular visit, and he ends up bringing a small take away container of them back to Steven’s apartment because he couldn’t make himself eat them all, and he didn’t want to waste them

He may not have any solid memories of Wendy outside of stepping in to get yelled at when the others couldn’t take it, and he sure as hell doesn’t have any fondness for Elias, but for some reason he can remember how that kitchen smelled, and the sound of the frying pan, and wrapped up leftovers in the fridge, and it’s still important to him and part of him

He scrawls some little note on the top of the take out container with a little “From Mum” to tie it off, and that ends up being enough for Steven not to question where the rellenitos came from when he finds them in his fridge. And he’s so excited!

Jake’s not even mad when he eats the rest of them before he can front next, he’s just glad he got to share a little bit of something that Steven enjoyed :-)

All together

I’ve already talked a lil ab Steven and Marc post Cairo, but I think once all three of them are on functional speaking terms and are cohabiting more, food is very chaotic!

They have to talk about boundaries and figure out what counts when it comes to who’s fronting and each other’s dietary restrictions

Some of the foods Jake likes are too spicy for Steven and some of Steven’s foods make Marc squirm, it’s complicated

Overall though there’s a lot of sharing and talking and bickering, fighting to see who makes dinner or frustration that someone else got to front and eat the last of something tasty, but they make it work

Feel free to add on your own hcs or additions! Or any corrections if something here sticks out as very obviously inaccurate (truly no worries!). Most of the stuff here is from research and friends, so tysm to @scarabgrant n @steverogers-against-disney n others for the food talks we’ve had that helped contribute to this :-)

And a general reminder as well: Stand up, stretch, and rmr to drink water and eat something if you haven’t in awhile! Have a lovely dayyy💖💖🤙

#glad I finished this right before going to get dinner lmaO #tw food #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #gena landers #moon knight 2022 #the fruit is talking again #mikes mk meta #the fruit is answering again

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years ago

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I wanted to let you know that there is a line you wrote that I think of at least once a week. "Sometimes simple ingredients make for lovely meals." From your 2nd installment of fashionable people (and I've been reading since day 1 of you posting fashionable people). Not sure why that line of all times, but my brain won't let it go. And it makes me feel better when I'm cooking :)

Oh I'm so glad. Thank you for reading! I know Rose isn't much of cook, but things like soup are pretty straightforward.

I save the carcas from my Thanksgiving turkey every year and make soup with the leftover bones.

But more frequently, I make pasta sauce. Since I currently work from home, it's easy to do an all day sauce, and the bade ingredients are simple, though I do throw in a few special things if they're lying around.

So in the spirit of a quiet Sunday morning, here's how I, a Jewish American woman with not a single lick of Italian lineage, make a simple pasta sauce:

Let some olive oil get hot in your sauce pot (I use a Dutch oven usually) and add chopped onions. Let them get tender before adding your garlic and let that get fragrant.

Add tomato paste and, if you have it, either anchovy paste or miso paste (this makes the sauce vegetarian and adds umami while mellowing out the tomato. I know it sounds weird but it works).

Once a fond starts to build up on the bottom of your pot, add crushed tomatoes (San marzano if you can but whatever you got) and your diced tomatoes. If you've got fresh, those also work but take longer to break down and can be pricy sometimes.

If you have other veg to add like mushrooms or carrots, throw them in now. Then goes your worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, oregano, marjoram, Italian seasoning or whatever you have. Sometimes, if I have it on hand I'll throw in a small hunk of parmessan cheese.

Let it all come to a boil and then set your heat to low and let it simmer until dinnertime. Check it every little while to give it a stir. I found that the stove in my new place runs hotter than the one in my last apartment, so I had to baby the sauce more. I'll cook it for less time next time I make it.

Once you're ready to eat, make your pasta and throw it into your sauce, and enjoy. If you make a big batch, it makes for great leftovers. The last batch I made fed three people for dinner, two containers were sent home with my mother and @dettiot took some for lunch a day or so later.

#cooking things

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hawkinsmafia · 5 months ago

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🩰 Beatrix is a good Italian daughter for whom food culture featured heavily in her upbringing. She can cook, and cooks well. The kitchen is very active when she’s got the apron on—multiple pots on the stove, the oven on, something always waiting on the chopping board to be added into the mix shortly—but it’s a tightly controlled chaos. When things move from the cooking phase to the eating stage, the kitchen isn’t clean but it’s organized—dirty dishes are by the sink, utensils are soaking in a water glass, remaining food left in covered pots over a low flame for anyone who wants seconds.

🐛 Natalie’s kitchen repertoire isn’t quite so complex, and she trends toward simpler dishes that are comforting and homey. Hearty soups and stews, rustic pies, rich casseroles… that kind of thing. She’s very comfortable in the kitchen, very relaxed, and she usually tidies up as she goes. By the time she leaves the kitchen, any dishes not currently containing the food she made have been washed or at least put in the dishwasher, and any spills or spatters have been wiped up.

🦊 Fox isn’t much of a chef, he’d probably live off mac and cheese and whatever produce was on sale that week if Gareth would let him. His idea of cooking a fancy meal is making Hamburger Helper and maybe putting together a salad, and somehow the kitchen is a wreck when he leaves it. Vegetable peels in the sink, dirty utensils left on the counter, somehow there are two cooking pots and a skillet needing to be washed for this one-pot meal….

🎶 Rourke’s kitchen is much more controlled. He’s still learning how to cook for himself and his siblings, but he’s a careful cook and doesn’t generate a lot of excess mess, and cleans as he goes. By the time they sit down to eat, things are soaking and the leftovers will be put away quickly. Whoever winds up with the chore of doing the dishes that night doesn’t have much to complain about.

💐 Lilibet is a pretty decent cook, but a whirlwind in the kitchen. She’s got the radio on, she’s got a glass of wine, she’s bopping around the kitchen. If a pot boils over, whoopsie! If she drips tomato sauce across the counter, she’ll get to that later! The food is delicious, the kitchen is a disaster, and it’s a damn good thing there’s up to four kids and three other adults to rotate cleanup duties afterward.

🖤 Georgette doesn’t do a whole lot of cooking on her own yet, since she still lives with her mom Lilibet, but she does like to bake. She might be taking after her mom in the kitchen, but so far she does at least manage to get things into the sink when she’s done with them… although they might just sit in the basin, dry and going crusty for a few hours before someone else (probably Dmitri) sighs and takes care of it.

💋 Rose is a good cook in the southern tradition, but her trailer has a teeny kitchen and she’s lived alone for a long time, so she doesn’t use it as much as she could. She does a lot of simple cooking from boxes and cans now, things that are easily cleaned up by just tossing empty packaging into the trash. Afterward, she’ll usually go ahead and wash her single plate and silverware set and leave them in the dish rack to use again at the next meal. When she’s finished, you couldn’t tell the kitchen was just used at all.

what is your oc like when they are cooking? confident, nervous, messy, organized...?

#my ocs #beatrix corbese #natalie henderson #fox buckley #cameron o'rourke #lilibet grey #georgette grey #rose #hello I got kicked in the teeth and needed to disappear for a little bit #but now I’m over it and back on my bullshit

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wistfulphoenix · 3 years ago

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There’s lots of posts on cheap eating for when things are absolutely down to the bare cupboards and payday is a week away.

So this is more for if you have a little bit of time to cook and want/need to stretch your budget, and to make frozen meals to grab and go for work that are cheaper than premade ones or fast food.

I buy the cheapest chicken. Occasionally that means .49 cents/pound for leg quarters but usually it’s .99 cents/pound for quarters or thighs. (Whole chickens are sometimes cheaper but take too long imo to take apart since my oven is busted so I can’t roast a whole one)

Last night after work I threw all 5 pounds of thighs into a big pan, set low heat, covered, and did other stuff for almost an hour (yes I forgot about them until my dog started staring at me bc she wanted some); they don’t take that long to cook. As I pulled them out of the pan into a casserole dish, I pulled the skin off and stored it separately in case I need chicken fat or something. In fridge overnight. Today I will debone the thighs (about 10 minutes and cold fingers later). If today was busy, the meat might go back into the casserole dish in the fridge. If I needed a quick dinner, I might dump some bbq sauce on and make a veggie side, or season with chilies and onion powder and make burritos or nachos. Since I have some time today, I’ll share a way to make a bunch of frozen lunches for my partner to take to work.

Any kind of chicken and sausage soup can be used for the first bit. Dump can of soup into pan, add whatever frozen or leftover veggies are laying around. I’m adding a can of black beans too. Leftover rice, potatoes, pasta? Any of that can stretch it. Then some of the chicken. Heat. Taste. Add more spices probably (but not salt those cans if soup are salty af). Split into lunches (I’ll probably get at least three lunches from adding a 1/2-1c veg, the beans, and the chicken)

I also have a can of chicken pot pie soup. Gonna add veg and chicken and have a different flavor for 3 more lunches. And there’s still chicken left! Can be kept in fridge for other quick dinners or spread sort of flat inside a gallon sized ziploc and frozen (once it’s solid you can store it like a regular bag), so you can grab a few pieces and make more lunch or dinner magic.

You can add veg and chicken to canned chicken noodle, to any creamy or tomato-y soups as well. I particularly like the sausage chicken gumbos and southwest soups because they seem to have more robust flavor. I’m making a bunch of pasta sauce today and I’ll probably throw a bit of the Italian sausage into that one.

2023 update: Yeah, chicken ain’t that cheap anymore but all this can still be done cheaper than some other kinds of eating.

#food on a budget #budget eating #cooking #cooking on a budget

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zenith-impact · 4 years ago

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Riptide - Part Two

Read on AO3 Here!

[1]

It was quiet when you returned home a few days later, and all you could do was sigh as you pushed the door closed and leaned against it. The soft snores of your father echoed from the top floor and you could smell the remnants of dinner from the kitchen. You followed it, eager to eat for the first time that day, only to find that most of the soup had already been taken. Disappointment gnawed at your stomach. It seems your father had invited guests that you were unaware of. Again. You sighed as you searched for any leftovers, but there were none to be had. Frustrated, you grabbed your father’s pouch of Mora and fished out enough for a decent meal nearby.

You hesitated by the front door. You hadn’t seen any Fatui since you met Childe aside from the ones that already roamed the streets, even though you’d never taken him up on his offer. But you couldn’t afford another fight, as you were still recovering your energy from summoning that sword.

Why had you done that anyway? You hadn’t used that sword in months. Not since your father last asked you to train with it. You were a catalyst user, and had been your entire life. But against Childe, you had felt it wasn’t quite good enough. But you were disappointed that you’d only managed to maintain it for a few minutes. Maybe you were worn down from the weeks of Fatui battles you’d been subjected to. Maybe you did need more practice, something your father had often hinted at over the last few years. You knew he was proud of you, but you also knew he wanted something more. He wanted you to take on the best of the best, whoever that was.

You had a feeling you might have just found one of them.

A Harbinger.

What did he want with someone like you?

“You’re here.”

You looked up, surprised to see your elderly father standing at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled as he moved toward you, his wispy gray hair barely visible in the fading sunlight. You thought he looked more tired than usual, and his wrinkles seemed deeper as if he’d aged even more over a single night. He was wearing his pajamas, and you wondered why he had bothered to get out of bed. “What are you doing up?”

“I have something for you,” He said, holding out a blue box. It fit comfortably in your hand and, when you opened it, you saw what looked like a hydro vision. There was a gentle, lighter blue swirl in the center, and it was surrounded by a ribbon made of gold, tied at the bottom with two long strands. You lifted it gently, frowning as you felt some kind of power from it. But that was impossible. You shouldn’t have felt anything from a second vision. And whose was it anyway? Your father had never been a vision holder unless he’d been hiding it from you all this time. Your mother had been a cryo user like yourself. But… a hydro one?

“Where did you get this?”

“A friend.” Your father said, putting his hand over the vision. You saw it flicker under his touch, but nothing happened. “And I need you to take care of it.”

“Why not keep it yourself?” You asked, genuinely surprised. Your father had never asked something like this of you. He was usually a private man, and you’d known for years that he kept many secrets from you. You’d never bothered to ask, especially after your mother died and he retreated even further into himself. Conversations with him were usually short and to the point.

“It will be safer with you.” Your father dropped his hand and took a step back. “Are the Fatui still bothering you?”

“Yes but…”

“But?”

You sighed. “I was asked to work with one of them in exchange for erasing whatever debt they have under my name.”

Your father’s eyes lit up. “That could solve all of our problems.”

“Problems?” You said. “What kind of problems?”

“If you work for this Fatui,” Your father said, his voice slow. “Then you’ll be protected, yes?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “He’s a Harbinger so…”

“A Harbinger!?” Your father took your hand. “Accept his offer.”

“What? I’m not working with…”

“A Harbinger will fix everything.”

“What aren’t you telling me.”

With a long sigh, your father pulled away again. “I just need you to trust me.”

“What is he protecting me from?”

But your father didn’t reply as he turned away and headed back toward the stairs. “Take all the money you need,” He said, his voice back to its normal, deadpanned tone. “And don’t lose that vision.”

Then he was gone, leaving you to tuck the vision away and head out into the night.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get far. You realized very quickly that someone was following you from the moment you left the house. You saw this young-looking man everywhere you went, always hovering on the edge of the crowd or near the buildings. When you ordered food, he was right behind you, not even trying to hide. A scare tactic, then. Unfortunately, the guy’s confidence mixed with your father’s evasiveness meant it was working. You started to scan your surroundings, looking for anyone else that might be following you. You thought you saw a second man. Maybe a third. But you weren’t sure if it was your paranoia talking.

Was he Fatui? He wasn’t wearing the typical colors, nor did he look like one of the men you’d fought. He was in all black, but his face was uncovered and you saw a pair of impossibly green eyes that seemed to glow in the dull light. There was an anemo vision on his hip, but something was off about it. Something you couldn’t quite place. But you didn’t look at him long enough to figure it out. All you knew is that you had to go somewhere, quickly. But where could you go? He clearly already knew where you lived. Was there somewhere else where you could hide out until he left?

The funeral parlor. You had a friend there that could help. And if she wasn’t there, then the man working for her would probably still be willing to do something. You didn’t know him very well, but Hu Tao spoke pretty highly of him. The only problem was that the funeral parlor was on the opposite side of town, and there would be plenty of chances for the man to make a move before you got there.

Northland Bank.

You groaned, rubbing at your forehead as you carried your food away. That Fatui Harbinger would probably be there. You didn’t want to trust him, but you didn’t know where else to go.

Dammit.

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

While Childe spent the next few days reacclimating to life in Liyue and figuring out all the Fatui business that had been left behind in the absence of competent workers (Andrei excluded), a day didn’t go by that he didn’t think about you. It was mostly because he saw you almost every night, wandering the streets of Liyue with your newfound freedom that he wasn’t even sure you knew you had yet. He’d tracked down the debt holder, learned it was from a secondary client, and paid it in full. It was a trifling task really, and the debt itself wasn’t even that substantial. The other Fatui he talked to hadn’t even known how much it was. You owed something to someone and that was all that mattered.

As to why he did all that… well… he had a certain interest in you that wasn’t going away. You may have lost to him, but you’d fought well. Very few people caught him off guard nowadays, and you’d managed to do it not once, but twice in the span of a few minutes. And he’d seen that look in your eyes; that battle-hardened gaze of someone who’d fought again and again.

He sometimes wondered what kind of things you’d fought in your life. It was clear that you were proficient with your vision, so you probably had someone to teach you. And you’d taken out over a dozen Fatui members with very little effort if that last fight was anything to go by. Clearly you knew what you were doing, and he kept thinking of what you could do if you were pushed just a little harder. He wanted to see what you’d do if dragged to your limits, as he knew that little scuffle you two had was nothing.

You could do more. Of that he was certain. Now he wanted to see you in action.

But first, he had to figure out how to approach you. A simple hello wouldn’t get him very far, and you had been adamant that he never talk to you again. He thought maybe he could rely on his charm and catch you off guard, though you might just walk away. He didn’t have the debt to hang over your head, though that wasn’t really his style anyway. He wanted to face you directly, with no outside forces getting in the way. A battle of wits was still a fight he could win.

But when he did finally go out of his way to confront you, imagine his surprise when you showed up at Northland Bank.

“Well that was quick,” He said with a grin. “And here I was expecting an argument.”

“I need… help,” You said with a long sigh.

“With?”

“Someone is following me.”

Childe raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who?”

“I didn’t recognize him, but he disappeared when I started climbing the stairs.”

Childe grinned. “So you’re telling me… that someone suspicious was following you, and you decided to come to me?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you glared at him.

“The funeral parlor was too far away.”

“Have you considered my offer?” Childe said.

Your glare turned to a scowl. “And what if I had?”

“I could protect you.”

“I don’t…” You trailed off, then sighed again. “Maybe I… do need it.”

“From?”

You paused. “I don’t… know.”

“You don’t know?”

“My father’s been adamant that I find someone who can ‘protect me’,” You said with accompanying air quotes. “And I never in my life thought I’d turn to a Fatui to do so but… I can’t just let go of this feeling that something’s wrong.”

“Well I can certainly take care of you,” Childe said as he swiped through his hair and winked in your direction.

You scowled at him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, girlie.”

“And stop calling me that.”

“No.”

You glared at him but huffed as you looked away. You didn’t seem bashful. There was no blush on your cheeks or embarrassment in your eyes. You seemed more… lost. Thoughtful. Contemplative. He supposed that shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, especially if your father was putting so much pressure on you for reasons you didn’t know. And clearly, you didn’t want to be having this conversation, yet here you were.

“I’m assuming I have you to thank for the lack of Fatui presence in my life this week?”

“Yep,” Childe said.

You sighed in frustration. “So now you think I owe you?”

“Nah,” He said with a shrug. “Let’s just call it some goodwill between friends.”

“Friends?” You echoed.

“Comrades. Compatriots. Coworkers. Work buddies. Whatever you want to call it.”

Your brows furrowed when you looked back up at him. “What’s a Harbinger like you doing with a simple Cryo user like me?”

Childe laughed. “So my reputation precedes me.”

“My father’s eyes practically lit up when I told him.”

“I wonder why,” Childe said. “I’m not that special.” You snorted and he continued. “Okay, maybe I’m a little special.”

“My point is,” you said very sternly. “I’m not exactly a Liyue superstar.”

“I’m interested in you,” Childe said as he took a step closer. You flinched, but stood your ground. Good. He liked that confidence, even if you seemed a little bit more deflated than the last time you met. “And if you do choose to work with me, then I hope you’re ready for weekly sparring sessions.”

“What?”

“I don’t like working with those who are weaker than me,” He said with a dramatic sigh. “So you’re just going to have to prove your worth.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re one of those people, aren’t you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You get off on battles.”

Childe’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t quite say that but…”

“You enjoy the thrill of it.” You said. “That’s probably why you’re a Fatui at all.”

“I’d rather not live a dull and uninspired life.”

“Yet here you are,” You said. “Stuck in Liyue. Afraid we ran out of excitement six months ago.”

“So you say,” Childe said. “But have you heard of the new gang that’s proclaimed itself the new ‘rulers of the back streets’?” You raised an eyebrow and he continued. “Andrei told me about them last night. They’re calling themselves Lapis.”

“You mean like… Rex Lapis?”

“I assume so.”

You shake your head. “He’s probably rolling over in his grave.”

Childe laughed again. He couldn’t help himself. If only you knew the truth. He wondered what you would say if you did. Would you believe him? Would you even care? He didn’t know you well enough to judge quite yet, nor was he interested in sharing that particular piece of information. “Apparently, the Qixing haven’t bothered to look into the matter, calling them a “waste of time and effort”.”

“But the Fatui care?”

“In a way,” Childe said with a shrug. “A rogue gang roaming the streets is bad for business.”

“You’re more worried about your profits.”

“I might try to track them down myself,” Childe said with another shrug. “Could be entertaining.”

“No more than beating up your own people,” You said with something akin to a smirk.

“I’ve done that too.”

You looked perplexed. “Why?”

“Gotta teach the new recruits their place.”

“We are not fighting in this bank.”

“I already fought you this week,” He said dismissively. “And you lost.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“So we have a deal?” Childe held out his hand. You glanced at it, then back up into his eyes. He had to admit that your gaze was rather stern. Some might even call it terrifying. Your eyes were strict. Your stare was unwavering. But Childe had no problems meeting such a gaze. It was just another battle, after all.

“I get half of everything we make,” You said.

“Sure.”

“And you’re going on commissions with me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re willing to split that too?”

“They get done twice as fast with double the help.”

He couldn’t exactly argue with that. “You don’t need these commissions if…”

“I help the people of Liyue,” You said. “And I expect you to do the same, Fatui.”

“It’s Childe.”

“It’s whatever I want to call you.”

He grinned. “Whatever you say, girlie.”

You ignored him. “I’m not a member of the Fatui, nor will I interact with your colleagues as if I was.”

“Of course.” That made things easier for him. He didn’t care for most of the other members of this particular Fatui branch anyway.

“And I get to take breaks if my father needs me.”

“Done.”

Your gaze flickered to his hand again, and he could see the gears turning. “Come on,” Childe said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Everything,” You muttered. But you took his hand anyway, and Childe shook it.

“Welcome to the team.”

“Is it a team if it’s only two people?” You said.

“Sure, why not?”

“You are far too excited for this.”

“Or,” Childe said. “I’m just excited enough.”

You would be a fun challenge. One way or another.

#genshin impact #Genshin Impact Reader #Genshin Impact Childe #childe #reader #childe x reader

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mariacallous · 8 days ago

Text

Except when it came to mamaliga, which I learned was limited to those of us whose ancestors were from Romania.

While our family was dining on cornmeal mush, everyone else was eating kasha varnishkes, a dish I ate regularly only after tasting it at my future mother-in-law’s house (it was love at first bite).

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kyouxa · 5 years ago

Text

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 11)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!♡

Monologue

Reiji and Shu-san’s relationship stayed the same as it has always been.

While I was worried about the other houses movements, I also continued to witness the relationship of those two not turning back to any normal state.

After thinking about what I could do to change the atmosphere, I decided to treat everyone with my cooking.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Kitchen

Yui: (Since the ingredients we have are limited, I should check what I can prepare with our current leftovers)

Hmm… with this I should be able to make any kind of appetizer, like soup or pasta for example.

(Come to think of it, someone must provide us with all these sorts of ingredients)

(Considering this, I somehow feel chilly all of the sudden…)

Yuma: What? I heard a sound coming from here, so that was you. What are you doing here?

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun. I was thinking of what I could use to cook for you all today.

Yuma: Heh, you cook? Wouldn’t it be better to leave that to Reiji?

Yui: Ah… I surely used to cook problem-free for awhile now. I’m probably not as good as Reiji-san is though.

Yuma: Well, even if it’s gonna be a failure, we can still eat these vegetables.

Yui: Are those the vegetables you grew, Yuma-kun?

Yuma: Yes, I’ve just harvested them now.

Yui: (Maybe everyone would be pleased if I used these vegetables in my cooking)

Hey, Yuma-kun. Would it be okay if I used your vegetables as a side dish for this evening?

Yuma: Hah? Why so suddenly?

Yui: You’ve grown these splendid vegetables, therefore I want everyone to eat them.

This might even create an opportunity to have Reiji and Shu-san reconcile...

Yuma: Right. You’re obviously worried about those two guys as well, huh?

If that’s the case, nice idea. You can use all you want then.

Yui: Thank you, Yuma-kun! Thank you for letting me use them.

(Okay, I first of all need to do the preliminary arrangements. It‘s been awhile since I’ve done this, so this might be fun)

Kino: Heh, is Eve on cooking duty today? Isn’t it rather unusual to use those things to have them eat?

Yui: Ah… Kino-kun

(Now that I think about it, during the quarrel Shu and Reiji-san had, I totally forgot to examine over what kind of a person Kino-kun is)

Yuma: Ah, Kino! You’ve been playing around, skipping your duties a lot these days!

You better know who‘s receiving some ass-wiping because of that!

Kino: Uwah, seems as if I’ll get in trouble unless I get out of here… keep doing your best then, Eve.

*Kino leaves*

Yui: Ah, okay...

(I can almost confidently say that his way of walking has a hidden meaning behind it. However, it‘s probably better not to worry about it though)

(Yet it feels as if he wanted to softening his way of saying that cooking is entirely meaningless to begin with…)

Yuma: Jeez, he has been doing whatever he wanted these days. Because of him, my work has multiplied itself.

Yui: Now that you mention it, he’s part of the mansion but I barely catch sight of him recently, how about you?

Yuma: He might not feel comfort to stay after Reiji started picking up a fight again. Well, I understand his attitude in some way.

Yui: (Even if he goes out to wander around to relax, there shouldn’t be anything interesting going on… or maybe he has something on his smartphone to keep him entertained?)

(...Ah! I wonder if Kino-kun would be able to place a phone call with his smartphone too… !)

Hmm… although there could be various things going on, I can’t do anything about it at all.

During these circumstances not only Reiji-san is acting with odd incentives, but it’s also difficult to find out things about Kino-kun...

(Well… I probably shouldn’t think about this while cooking. Maybe it will make me feel better if I don’t do that)

*time passed*

Yuma: Hey you, why are you cutting them so small?

Yui: Eh? Because the amount will be easier to go along with the rest like this, and it will be easier to eat too.

Yuma: Turn the rest up in higher flames then. You’ve cut the others so small, even an infant could easily eat them.

Yui: But if I’d put the remaining ones on stronger heat, they might start burning by accident.

Yuma: My vegetables wouldn’t get damaged just because of that. They could easily survive the surplusing heat.

Yui: (I-I guess that’s logical)

Yuma: Ah come on, I can’t look at this any longer. Gimme this! I’ll do it!

Yui: Yuma-kun... say what you like, but aren’t the vegetables you’re cutting a little oversized?

Yuma: I think you can enjoy the flavour they have way better like this.

Yui: If you think so…

*footsteps approach*

Shu: Hey.

Yui: Eh?

Shu: What are you two doing here together?

Yui: Shu-san, since when were you here!?

Well, err... I was only thinking of what I could make for today’s evening meal.

Shu: Haa... to think that this is the reason why you’ve sneaked out of my room as you pleased.

Yui: I‘m really sorry...

Shu: It‘s not like I’m particularly worried about that anyway. It’s more about the fact that you’ve left my room to spend your time amusing yourself with other men.

Yui: (Hmm? Is he perhaps jealous because it seemed as if we got closer to each other?)

Shu: ...Whatever. The reason I stood up for, was because of hunger anyway.

Yui: If that‘s the case, I‘ll have a meal prepared for you in an instant. Please wait a minute.

Yuma-kun was the one who brought in the vegetables, which is why I wanted to include them in today’s dinner.

Shu: I don’t care about such a thing as vegetables.

Yuma: Hah? Are you bad mouthing the vegetables I raised all by myself?

Shu: That‘s not it.

I’d just rather prefer eating something more delicious compared to vegetables.

*Shu comes closer*

Yui: Eh… do you mean you want to suck my blood… ?

Shu: What if I do?

Choices

1) Refuse it (white)♡♡♡

2) Request to do it later (black)

— Refuse it♡

Yui: W-We can‘t to that… ! Yuma-kun is still with us after all.

Shu: This is nothing Yuma should be concerned about.

— Request to do it later

Yui: Please, no… if you want to suck my blood, please do it later!

Shu: Didn‘t you hear what I said? I told you I’ve came here because I’m hungry.

Yui: But Yuma-kun is still next to the both of us…

Shu: That sort of thing shouldn’t matter to him.

end Choices

Yui: But it has something to do with him! He’d have to watch you suck my blood...

Shu: You’re the type of woman that gets more excited while being watched from others anyway.

Yui: That’s… no, that’s not it...

Shu: You have no right to go ahead and act like this. Listen obediently to what I’m going to tell you from now on.

Haa… some time ago you were opening your mouth to only talk about Yuma and vegetables. It’s careless and annoying if you do that.

*Shu grabs her*

Yui: Ouch… there’s no need to grab me so violently.

Shu: You’re being noisy. Shut up and simply let me suck your blood.

Yui: (Uhh!? Why is Shu-san being so grumpy all of the sudden!?)

Yuma: Hey, there’s no need to act so greedy. No wonder she feels nervous about you acting this way.

Shu: You shut up too.

Yuma: Haa… I get it. I’ll make sure to not look, so you can do as you please.

Yui: Eh!? You’re not even trying to stop him?

Yuma: I don’t want to be a hindrance for my elder brothers boorish ways of eating his food.

*Yuma turns around*

Yui: T-That is...

Shu: Don’t mind him and focus on me. Let Yuma hear the voice you make while doing it.

Ahh… Nn… Nn...

Yui: (The way he’s sucking my blood is way more violent than usual too…)

(Speaking of it, Shu-san even does this although Yuma-kun is right next to him…)

No… please… Shu-san...

Shu: After all, isn’t it better to have someone watch? Your blood got even sweeter than usual because of that.

Yui: That’s not...

Shu: Your face doesn’t look as dissatisfied as you act though? Which is why there’s no need to deny how good you’re feeling… or I’ll end up putting you into disarrange.

Yui: Ah… don‘t continue removing my clothes! Shu-san!

Shu: Instead of uselessly telling me not to do so, your graceful skin is tightening up as well. Are you perhaps in pleasure?

Yui: You‘re always, without fail, putting me into any kind of embarrassing situation!

Shu: Kuku… I know. But seeing your reaction while saying so is not too bad either.

From now on… I’ll continue from this place here. Keep your focus only on me and my fangs.

Nn...

Yui: Ngh… Ahh… !

(My body feels as if it sparkles… his fangs are feeling so hot that they might end up stealing away my consciousness…)

(If he keeps on sucking more, I might end up not being able to think of anything anymore)

Ah, could you slowly come to an end if possible… ?

Shu: I’m not close to satisfaction yet.

Yui: But… if you continue to suck my blood, I won’t be able to continue cooking...

Shu: I’d rather have your blood than eating any sort of cooking to begin with.

Yui: But… I mainly thought of this idea to get Shu-san to have a better day...

Shu: For me?

Yui: Yes… therefore, I...

Shu: Guess I have no other choice then… Nn

*Shu kisses Yui*

Yui: Nn...

Shu: I’ll forgive you with this.

*Shu backs off*

Yui: (My body still feels hot… but it’s likewise that Shu-san was jealous after all, right?)

(...I think it‘s cute to see him act like this, but I might as well have a serious illness after this)

Yuma: Haa, are you finally done? I was already wondering how long this would last.

Shu: What’s the deal with you, why are you still here? It’s said those who peep have bad taste.

Yuma: That’s only because you hastily entered and then had to show off!

Shu: You were the one doing the same previously.

Yuma: Hah? What kind of reason is that?

Yui: (When they’re acting like this, it really seems as if they are siblings)

Fufu...

Shu: Hey, what are you laughing at?

Yui: Ah, it’s nothing important

(It’s just that when those two talk to each other, it feels as if it calms me down… it almost feels as if Reiji-san never—)

*footsteps approach*

Yui: (..... ! Someone’s coming. No way—)

Reiji: Immediately after being left alone, you all start to clamor...

Yui: Reiji… san...

Reiji: It appears to me as if you are arranging today’s meal...

But who of you dared trying to attain ingredients from the provision without gaining permission from me first?

Yui: Excuse us, as for this… !

Reiji: ...It smells like blood in here.

Yui: ...Nn

(Reiji-san‘s voice turned completely cold… he seems awfully angry again)

Reiji: Shu. Did you suck Eve’s blood once more? Your manners are as inferior as someone eating while standing.

As I have told you many times over again already, Eve is and will not be one of your belongings.

Shu: While that may be true, that doesn’t mean she belong to you either.

Besides, I was the one being chosen by her in the first place. Do whatever you like and keep your nose out of our business then.

Love is something undesirable for you anyway.

Yui: Shu-san!

(Why would you say that just to provocate him… !)

Reiji: ...In order to cure your unpleasant ideals, it may be necessary for you to meet me tonight again, don’t you think?

Shu: Haa, that again? I don‘t want to go ahead and keep my company with you.

Reiji: Wait!

*Reiji grabs Shu*

Shu: Hey, let me go.

Reiji: I will never again allow you to behave this kind of impertinent in front of me as you have always done until now.

Shu: Impertinent? To hear that out of your mouth.

Yui: Both of you, please calm down! Shu-san, Reiji-san!

Yuma: Look, both of you are making the entire house suffer in this bad atmosphere again. You seriously need to speed up with your brother conflicts.

Reiji: Brother? How funny… There is nothing useful about this chess piece on our board. It is unneeded in this place if it does not follow its orders.

Shu: Hah, everything‘s working out as desired. This way I at least wouldn’t go downward along with your abstruse commands anymore.

Yuma: Hey, where are you going!?

Shu: As I’ve been told to. I’m getting out of this place.

*Shu starts leaving*

Yui: No, stop… please wait!

Please reconsider what you just said… ! Shu-san!

Shu: …..

*Shu leaves*

Yui: Ah...

(He really… left us all standing here)

(I have to chase after him!)

*Reiji grabs Yui*

Reiji: Give it up, Eve. It is not necessary for you to chase after this man.

Yui: Please let go of me, Reiji-san! If this continues, Shu-san will… !

If I really don’t chase after him now, he might never come back to this mansion.

While he’s all alone by himself like that, someone might even go and attack him...

I’m begging you, Reiji-san! Please let me bring Shu-san back!

Reiji: Unfortunately, I cannot grant your requested wish.

Yui: After all… aren’t you brothers? Isn’t it more important for you all to get along instead of snarling each other?

Reiji: We have been unable to get along from the start. As for this, this incident is one of plenty causes already.

Yui: Such...

Reiji: From now on, Eve’s escort position will be changed to Yuma. Does that sound alright?

Yuma: A-Ah… fine with me, I guess.

Reiji: And now to you, Eve.

I sincerely advise you not to do anything behind my back, such a tomfoolery as chasing after Shu.

If I would be to catch you planing odd movements, I will immediately confine you in the cellar’s prison, and never make you step outside of it.

Yui: ...Nn.

Reiji: Since you do not seem to like this idea, it would be best not to chase after this man then. Did you undertand this?

Yui: ...Yes, sir.

(Shu-san, he really left the mansion and I can‘t even chase after him)

(What about our investments, what should I do now… ?)

*they all leave*

Kino: Heh… Shu really decided to leave. Now this is seriously getting even more and more interesting.

Monologue

Ever since I had to make that heartlessness choice, a few days have already passed by.

Shu-san has not shown a single sign of returning back, and time just kept passing by ever since he left.

I hope you’re at least staying at a safe place. I don’t even know about small details like this, but I’ve got no choice but to be puzzled.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Yui: (Shu-san… I can’t help but wonder where you’re at)

(There is no way he’d encounter another residence either, right… ?)

Yuma: You, have you even eaten recently?

Yui: Ah… I have no appetite...

Yuma: You shouldn’t worry about Shu that much. I’m sure he’ll come back soon.

Therefore you have nothing to stress yourself or mind out about.

Yui: Thank you, I guess...

Yuma: No need to thank me for that.

Yui: ...But Yuma-kun is such a kind guy.

Yuma: Not really. It’s just that I can’t leave someone sitting besides me being all worn out the entire time all by themselves.

That’s why I’ll stay with you until whatever troubles you is gone.

Yui: Okay...

Hey, Yuma-kun. You know that those “brothers” you’re currently staying with aren’t in fact your true siblings, right?

Yuma: Hah? You know, I see how down you look and all… but there’s no need to utter those weird things.

Yui: S-Sorry. You’re right.

(Yuma-kun must know how anxious I am about Shu-san not coming back. No wonder he can’t take me seriously when talking about lost memories)

(Shu-san… I really hope he’ll come back as soon as Yuma-kun said…)

(But like this, the mansion might continue to stay rather empty for the time being—)

*footsteps approach*

Reiji: Seems as if you all are present. Let’s take a tea break then.

Yui: Ah, I’ll help you.

(I should stop sulking. If I keep sitting there motionlessly, my mind will only continue thinking about frightening things)

*time passed*

Yui: (Now that I see it myself, Reiji-san has completely returned to his usual behaviour… but he could still easily get angry)

Yuma: Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Kino for several days already. Have you heard anything from him, Reiji?

Reiji: No, nothing in particular. He used to go and come arbitrarily as he wished to anyway.

Yuma: Jeez, now that Shu as well as Kino are gone, we are in an unsteady situation until they come back.

Yui: (He’s right. I thought the mansion was just really peaceful all of the sudden, but that’s only because two people stopped showing up)

(Thinking about it is somehow scary. I’m worried about something happening…)

Reiji: The black tea is now flowing. We should drink before it gets cold.

Yui: Thank you.

(Those cups seem quite expensive though. Maybe looking at the steam of the tea will calm me down a little for now…)

Yuma: ….. !

Yui: What‘s wrong, Yuma-kun?

Yuma: Shh… ! Someone seriously has the nerve to approach us. Moreover, we already experienced this happening.

Yui: Eh… ?

*glass breaks*

Yui: Kyaaa… !? What was that sound...

(No, this can’t be. This already happened just a while ago already)

Yuma: Eve! Come closer to me!

Ayato: Long time no see! Chichinashi!

Kanato: We were finally able to meet again.

Yui: Ayato and Kanato-kun!?

Yuma: Kch… are the same guys from Orange seriously attacking us again!?

Yui: (And neither Shu-san nor Kino-kun are here this time… !?)

Ayato: You don’t seem to have taken damage the other day. But today will be the day Eve will belong to us!

#I live for Reiji and Shu drama #Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers chaos lineage #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki translation #Shuu Sakamaki #sakamaki shu #diabolik lovers shu #shu sakamaki translation #Shu Sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki translation #Diabolik brothers #translation #Diabolik Lovers game

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ikehorganics · 4 years ago

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INTO THE IDEA OF THE ONE MEAL A DAY DIET, AKA OMAD.

psa! you can skip straight to the bottom for how to sustainably do OMAD.

On the night of the 9th of December, I had decided to start a three day water fast, I felt motivated to do it, and ready. The following day, why fast preceded as normal, i kept hydrated until 4pm when I remembered I had bananas I kept away and they were finally beautifully ripened. I knew that after my fast, my family would have eaten them already and if not, they would have gotten too ripe for my liking. So, like Freelee, I ate four bananas and decided to have a tangerine after. The little hunger I felt was immediately satiated and I had just unknowingly began my OMAD diet.

The following day, I had planned to do it again, but I had to do some careful planning, and think about what foods satiate me and keep me full for extended hours, along with that, what time would be the perfect time to eat my one meal and how much of it should I eat? I had so many questions but I didn't want to overthink it or else this would flop. So, I decided that I would eat whatever I wanted. Usually, I would never eat refined carbs, but for the sake of this, I would, if I'm only eating one meal a day, I might as well make it worth it and enjoyable. I had made a delicious lentil and green pea tomato soup that was thick and rich in proteins, vitamin A had a variety of vegetables within it for lunch. I scooped out an amount I would usually eat and proceeded to finish the entire bowl, with that, I was done. And for the rest of the day I was absolutely full, only craving a nice hot glass of milo before bed to hit the sweet spot.

I decided to eat my OMAD everyday at 2pm. I felt as if having my one meal for breakfast wouldn't be able to keep me satisfied for the entire day, and eating my one meal a day for dinner didn't seem like something I was willing to wait the entire day for. All in all, I had to pick a time where I would not get too hungry to a point where I do not feel satiated whilst eating because I had waited too long, or where I would be left with my stomach grumbling for the whole day. I chose 2pm for these reason, plus I usually intermittent fast 18:6 and only have breakfast at 12 midday, so waiting two hours later really wasn't a challenge if I had a cup of tea for breakfast.

Day one and two were relatively easy, and like every diet or lifestyle choice one transitions into, it's easy at first then it becomes difficult for a while and eventually it becomes neutral and the challenges your body faced initially begins to normalise with your daily routine. By day three, I felt extremely light headed when I stood up from laying down and had to take a few deep breaths before I stood up, and it would happen through the day, it was a very uncomfortable feeling but I knew it came from the change of my eating habits. For my meal that day, I had leftovers from the lentil soup with two chicken breasts, and this was just one big protein overload. I felt full from midway through this meal, after I finished eating the meal until nine pm. And when I say full, I mean the food was sitting in my stomach like a rock. I had to drink something to aid in digestion because it refused to digest over a period of six hours and after about twenty minutes I felt much lighter.

The next few days were relatively easy, but I didn't realise that i was missing carbs heavily from my meals so when i did eat a panini sandwich for my omad, I gained 0.8kgs. This was weird until it clicked in my head, i needed to be more inclusive of every food group and i was heavily missing out on carbs, so the next day I had pasta and had lost 0.3kgs of the weight i had gained, and my days continued to be more carb inclusive as well as every other group.

For the first week of OMAD i had lost 1.4kgs, so here are my tips and tricks on how to make it more sustainable:

1. HAVE YOUR OMAD AT THE SAME TIME EVERYDAY.

OMAD is basically intermittent fasting 23:1. Having meals at the same time everyday enables your body to get used to the routine of eating everyday at that time.

2. EAT ENOUGH OF THE RIGHT FOOD. Make sure that you are consuming almost every food group in your meal, veggies, carbohydrates, proteins, because if you only eat vegetables, your body will be used to maintaining a lower weight by only eating vegetables and once you introduce something foreign to your diet such as protein, or carbs your body will react by either gaining weight or bloating, especially if you are doing OMAD long term.

3. EAT WHAT YOU ARE CRAVING. If you are craving a giant bowl of oatmeal or even sushi, eat it and it will be more satiating that eating something you don't really want. Plus, it will aid in you not binging later on. If you want to have some pasta, but also want a slice of cake, have the slice of cake with your meal!

4. KEEP HYDRATED. Beverages were my biggest saviour during OMAD, whether it was tea, water or hot chocolate, it really curbed my hunger cravings at first, especially since I only wanted to eat my OMAD at 2pm. Water as a general thing is important, so make sure to drink enough of it!

5. THE FIRST FEW DAYS WILL NOT BE EASY. You will definitely feel light headed for the first few days, especially if you are not eating enough food, but it clears up after the fourth day, so just keep that in mind.

#one meal a day #OMAD #diet secrets

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whothehellisyn · 3 years ago

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Cat and Mouse | Ch. 7

Series Masterlist

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dark!Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Warnings: unreality, paranoia, wet dreams, minor gaslighting (moved objects), sleep paralysis

AN: you know the typical warnings, and we’re almost caught up to my current writing!

It’s been two weeks since Quentin left, and it’s been three days since you’ve slept. You can feel the exhaustion affecting your body and your mind, as you’re much clumsier now. Earlier you dropped a glass again, and just now you hip-checked the kitchen counter because you miscalculated how far you were from it.

“Fuck!” You groan, rubbing your hip. “God, I’m so fucking tired.”

“Maybe you’ll pass out eventually, and just collapse and force-sleep.” You say. It’s a hopeful thought. “Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll happen later on tonight.” You nod to yourself and go back to perusing the kitchen for lunch.

“Damn, I need to go to the store soon.” You note, wondering if you should make a list. “Wait...” Oh yeah. You can’t do that.

“Is there enough for this week?” You ask. You start to do some mental calculations, counting up the cans and boxes.

“Maybe? If you’re careful.” You decide. “No more snacks, just the meals.”

Making conversation with yourself has become second nature now, and you don’t hesitate to ask yourself things that don’t matter. Over dinner, you explain to yourself wether you believe in fairies or not. You pretended to give a tutorial on cooking as you prepared your meal. You’ve started to feel more and more tired throughout the day, but in the middle of cleaning up your dishes it starts to really hit you.

Even as you wash your plate you can feel your eyes trying to close. Your body begins to settle into a sort of lull as the sink runs, the white noise is so comforting and soft...

The metallic clang of the plate slipping from your fingers and landing in the sink makes you jump, snapping awake.

“I’m way too tired to be handling breakable items.” You mumble. You know you have to shower before you try to get some sleep, but it’s so tempting to just go to bed dirty.

“Don’t be gross,” You chastise yourself, “You stink.”

You start the shower again and begin to get undressed. Just before you go to get into the shower, you hear the big metal door clanging shut. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you peek out of the bathroom and look for Quentin. Nobody is in the suite, but there’s brown paper bags on the kitchen table. You go to them and discover that they’re groceries, a mix of fresh foods and shelf items.

t occurs to you that this means you’re being punished for the long run. Then you start to think more about this delivery. Apart from your short bathroom breaks, this was the first time all day you’ve been out of the main area longer than a few minutes. How could he have known you needed food and also when you’d be occupied long enough to deliver food without you being able to see him?

You tighten the towel around your body and look around the tops of the walls. He’s got to be watching you somehow.

You search around for fifteen minutes before you realize you’ve left the water on.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You say, running to the bathroom. You feel the water and luckily it’s still warm. You shrug off the towel and rush to get clean. Hopefully he doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom.

Wether it was the grocery delivery or the shower, that sleepiness from earlier is gone much to your chagrin. You lie on the floor, on the verge of tears from frustration. God, you’re so fucking tired.

“I just want to sleep!” You whine, covering your eyes with your arm. “I don’t want to sleep in the bed.” You add, as if to stop yourself from suggesting it.

But maybe you have to, even if you don’t want to. You sit up quietly and sneak over to the bed to avoid your own will from realizing what you’re doing.

The bedsheets are so soft, have they always been? They don’t even smell like Quentin anymore, thank god for that. You use the blanket you’ve been sleeping with onto of the bedspread and curl up in the comfort of the mattress.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You dream that you’re in SHIELD headquarters and Peter Parker has dyed his hair green on accident. Director Fury’s eyepatch keeps changing eyes but he doesn’t seem to notice. He asks you if you’re allergic to tomatoes and that he wants to know because he just learned how to make spaghetti.

Your neighbor Madeline announces to the three of you that she is now the new head of SHIELD and puts Director Fury in a mason jar. You get put in a coffee mug and she makes Peter dye his hair purple before putting him in a Tupperware. Apparently Director Madison has a fascination with putting people in containers.

It starts storming inside the headquarters, and little fishes and seaweeds drop from the clouds and onto everyone. “It’s a hurricane!” Director Fury yells, dumping you out of the mug. “We have to take cover.”

You obey, and hide next to Peter Parker underneath a desk. He has an octopus on his head, but you try not to stare. He’s about to tell you something when–

You wake up still exhausted, but feeling much better than before. What a weird dream.

You half expected Quentin to be in bed next to you, but you’re still alone. You go to unpack the groceries from last night but they’re already put away. Another quiet visit.

“That’s kinda of rude, don’t you think?” You ask.

“Personally I think it’s incredibly fucking rude, but what do I know?” You reply.

“No, no,I definitely agree with you.” You say, opening the fridge to look for where everything has been put. “Especially because butter,” you grab a knob out of the box, “goes outside the fridge!” You tear off the paper and drop it onto a plate.

“Of course he’d put all the butter in the fridge, the fucking bastard.” You say jokingly. “He’s the exact type to not understand the needs of butter.”

You chuckle for a few seconds before you go quiet. You’re really laughing at something you told yourself, huh? That’s not what normal people do. Maybe you’re going crazy.

“You’re not crazy, dumbass.” You say in an obvious tone. “Social conventions are bullshit, everyone talks to themselves at least a little.”

You feel the need to add to your defense, “At least you’re not seeing stuff.”

Two more days pass and you start to feel more paranoid about the surveillance that surely is required for these quiet visits of Quentin’s. You’ve also been incredibly bored and anxious to do literally anything since day three, and now you’re getting tired of talking to yourself. Which is pretty fucking bad because you don’t have have anybody else at this point.

You’re eating a bowl of soup for lunch when you notice the bathroom door is closed. That’s weird, you think. it was definitely open a few seconds ago, you just came from the bathroom not ten minutes before. Setting the bowl down on the kitchen counter, you approach the bathroom door and let it swing open.

The bathroom is empty. You were certain you hadn’t closed it, but maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. The days all blend together now anyways, it’s not unreasonable to have done it without noticing.

You go back to your soup, picking it up off the table where you left it.

But you didn’t leave it there. You left it on the counter, didn’t you?

The metal door hasn’t opened since the groceries were delivered and put away last week. You’re certain of it. You even started showering with the bathroom door open so you’d be able to hear it.

You abandon the soup and start opening up cabinets. You open up every single cupboard, the pantry, the linen closet in the bathroom, you even open up all the drawers. You tuck the bed skirt up under the mattress so you can see under the bed. You find nothing but...

Something is in here with you. You don’t know if it’s Quentin, or a drone, or both, but there’s no fucking way you would think you placed the bowl on the counter unless you really did. You’re not sure how to proceed with this information.

You go to put the leftover soup in the fridge, and on the middle shelf at your eye-level is the plate with the butter on it. You calmly take it out and place it back on the counter.

“Like I said, a fucking bastard.” You say quietly.

You crawl into bed that night wary of your surroundings. Nothing has been moved since lunch, but you can’t shake the feeling that something else has changed. It’s something unconscious, you think. Like if the walls were suddenly two shades lighter than they were yesterday. There’s no way for you to prove something is different but you can sense it all the same.

You get underneath your trusty blanket and lie in the darkness. You want to fall asleep, even if it means that whatever is in here has the chance to do something. You can dream if you sleep, you can go be somewhere else and “talk” to people.

You are dreaming, but it’s a sea of images and sounds and sights. It feels like home and nowhere simultaneously, which was fine. You feel something crawling all over you, and when you look down, your body is covered in thick vines that have wrapped around your limbs.

You wake up flailing, inches down the bed from where you fell asleep. The covers are thrown off, your pajamas slouching down towards your left foot as if something had grabbed it to yank you off the bed.

These sort of peripheral out-of-sight visuals continue. Sometimes you feel breath on the back of your neck that belongs to no one, or feel the looming presence of a person inches away from you until you turn around to face an empty room. You know he has illusion technology, you know it must be him, but it feels so small and minuscule compared to what he’d usually do.

Maybe he’s trying to make you feel crazy, so you’ll run into his arms afraid you’re insane. Maybe you’re trying to make you feel crazy, accidentally.

You sleep again, this time waking up to sleep paralysis. You’ve never had it before now, at least that you can remember. You had dreamt of a weight on your chest, and something choking you with just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. You hallucinate that a rotting corpse is straddling and strangling you as you lie immobile, and when the paralysis leaves you you sob with relief.

Days melt again and sleep comes rarely. The times you do fall asleep you’re always jarred awake, that feeling of falling taking over. You fall asleep anxiously, your heart pounding slowly as if it’s preparing itself for more terror.

You step out of the shower one morning and in passing notice your obscured reflection in the bathroom mirror. Full of steam, your body is a blurry mass of flesh tone within its confines, but what catches your eye is a large, dark object directly behind you.

Breathing shallowly, you pick up a hand towel and slowly make your way to the surface of the mirror, before swiping quickly as if it startle the thing behind you first.

As you swipe away the steam, the visage disappears instantaneously. Whatever was behind you is no more. Paranoia begins to rear its head.

The night terrors and sleep paralysis are awful, the peripheral hallucinations as well, but nothing mentally prepares you for the dream you have.

It’s easy to write off the rest of these moments as Quentin’s doing, after all, he’s a master manipulator.

You’re running through the maze again. It’s still as dimly lit and damp as it was the day he forced you through it, but this time something has changed within you.

Quentin catches you with ease, just like last time. But when he grins, you grin back and catch his lips with a very open kiss, tongues working into each others’ mouths. You wanted him to catch you.

His Mysterio clones pin you to the wall and you moan, legs opening wide for the Quentin as they grab your arms. You’re not wearing panties, and Quentin groans approvingly as he kneels on the ground and buries his face in your sex, hiking your gown up past your hips. He rips the side seams, leaving you naked before the three men. The clones, rid of their helmets, bite at your neck and take turns kissing you messily.

Everywhere you look, everything you feel, is Quentin Beck. The two clones lean to kiss you at the same time, Quentin fucking you with his tongue as he eats you out. You get close and closer to climaxing when he pulls away suddenly and looks up at you, dragging his tongue against your clitoris torturingly slow.

“Fuck, please,” you gasped. “Please, I don’t want to cum yet.” Quentin slows his pace even more, his tongue hot and wet against you. The mysterios begin to tease your nipples with their fingers as they suck on your neck, one dipping down to use his mouth. You whine and squirm against them and the pleasure.

“I want you to fuck me, please.” You beg, stomach tightening from the impending orgasm.

Almost excitedly, Quentin pulls back and tugs his suit off, though his clones haven’t stopped their pace at all as if to keep you on edge. They’ve raised you further up the wall, Quentin nestling between your legs like he was made to be there.

He pushes into you and your entire body thrums with how good it feels. How good he feels.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good sweetheart.” He groans. He sets an unrelenting pace, quick and hard.

You’ve devolved into a series of pleases and fucks and yeses, alternating between those words as he rubs your clit with one hand and grabs your hip with the other. His clones are whispering things to you, Quentin too.

“You gorgeous little thing, you’re ours and nobody else’s.” one says. “You’re such a good girl for us, sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll have to carry you back, all fucked out from my cock.” Quentin says, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby?”

You nod, your entire body stimulated from the three of them. It would feel good to be spoiled that way, to be carried back and tucked in and away from everything else.

Quentin’s breathing has become ragged, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he thrusts harder and harder into you until he cums, your own orgasm following suit as the feeling of his release inside you pushes you over the edge.

You wake up sweating, underwear damp and proof of what had just transpired.

The one place Quentin couldn’t hurt you, and there he was, fucking you inside it. A wet dream to betray your hatred.

You know it’s impossible for him to know what just happened but you still feel ashamed and confused.

The shower water is hot, borderline unbearable, and you roughly wash your arousal out of yourself with your fingers. It did not happen. It couldn’t have happened. It will not have happened.

Various excerpts of the four of you play in your head every idle moment you afford your brain. It lurks behind every thought you process as if to remind you that it came from within your mind.

You push it away as much as you can, try to ignore the sinking feeling. Somewhere Carl Jung is preaching to a dead choir about wish fulfillment. Plenty of people have dreams about the things that happen to them, and it gets jumbled up and spit back out in their sleep as something contorted and wrong. You’re just processing the awfulness of this all, that’s all. Your brain is trying to make sense of this betrayal in the only way it knows how.

But it also makes sense considering what you and Quentin were, before. You can still remember how soft the first kiss between you two was, something tentative and sweet. He cupped your face that first time, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he was trying to remind himself you were real.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms, once. There was even an inkling of a future with him in your mind. Maybe that’s why you lash out so much. It’s true that what he has done is evil, but to be truthful you’re more scared and disgusted by yourself.

After everything, part of you wants to love him, the real him. Because he has to be in there somewhere, doesn’t he? You want to salvage this awful, terrible thing even after he tortured you. You wonder what there is to say about it. Perhaps it’s just you clinging to what little reality there is left, even if that reality is a false one.

The water has run cold. You turn the knobs to shut off the flow and wrap yourself in a towel. There’s a lot to think about. You dress silently, and say nothing as you stare at the television for a while.

“I’m not sure how much of this isolation I can take.” You whisper suddenly. “We’ve gone full to circle to having… that sort of dream after everything that’s occurred.” You say even quieter, “What if I’m starting to need someone?”

You look up from your seat on the bed at the television. “I think you’ll be okay.” You try to say reassuringly. “The nightmares aren’t so bad that you can’t sleep afterwards, you still have an appetite...” You trail off.

You nod, and bite your lip as tears start to fall. You have those things, for now. But even trying to be hopeful about things working out somehow just hurts in the end.

#cat and mouse

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scary-lasagna · 5 years ago

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Um Hey:D I loved your hc's about the slender brothers and the dumb stuff they did when they we're little, and I was wondering if you have some hcs similar to that but for Ej, Toby, and the others?

haha why’d i write so much omg i finally get to explore toby and lyra's sibling dynamic

Eyeless Jack

Jack was that cool, but also kind of weird kid that had alot of cool junk but it was all nerdy stuff.

He was really into any sort of science as a kid, and nearly exploded whenever a surprise guest brought in animals to learn about, or perhaps even a magician.

He was also a bit of a prankster around his closest friends.

Simple things and putting stuff in their hoods while they're not looking, or getting them to shake his hand that was covered in glue.

He wasn't a messy kid, but he certainly wasn't the most clean.

It wasn't a rare occurance when he came home with grass and mud stains on his knees, or some food stains on his shirt.

He keeps his clothes clean to this day, but that doesn't stop him from digging around in the dirt sometimes and letting some extra food drip onto his clothes.

Jack tried to cook a meal with whatever was in eyesight for his older cousin's birthday, and cried when he threw up bc it was so inedible.

Jack also had the best Yu-Gi-Oh cards and flexed by shoved them in everyone's faces whenever he got the chance.

Jack had a pet lizard that he named Jack, because he couldn't think of a cooler name.

He also has a 'pet' crow that he fed every day.

He left out bread crumbs and leftovers from dinner that he didn't eat on the rooftop outside his window for birds to eat.

Ticci Toby

Toby didn't exactly have the greatest childhood, but it honestly could've been worse.

It was mostly just verbal light abuse until Lyra reached her teen years.

So before that, Toby and his sister got into all sorts of antics.

Lyra has always been supportive of Toby, even from a young age.

She was always with him outside bug collecting, or helping with crafts, or just watching tv together.

Lyra was always cuddling and touch Toby, which explains why he's so touched starved later on in life.

Once time Lyra and Toby were playing tag, Toby ran straight through the sliding glass door, fell over, and then continued running as if nothing happened.

They both got a light scolding.

Lyra was very active, and Toby clung to Lyra like glue, so they both played sports.

Lyra played on the school teams, and Toby wasn't allowed to participate because of his CIPD.

But that doesn't mean he wasn't always there to cheer her on the loudest.

Remember the bug collecting mentioned earlier?

Toby and Lyra spent the entire day collecting bugs and stuffing them into boxes with wire mesh.

Toby slept with one of the boxes bc he loves bugs so much, and the top popped open and he mysteriously woke up absolutely covered in june bugs.

His older sister was basically his second mom, and usually bandaged him up when he bonks into a kitchen counter or trips over some toys in his room.

She was also always there for Tobs when he got yelled at over absurd things by his father and hugged him for hours.

Toby and Lyra always ate Grilled Cheese and Tomato soup every Thursday, so that meal really brings back a lot of good memories.

Jeff

Even as a child, Jeff was a baby bitch boy.

He always found something to get upset or cry about.

Dirty, all the time.

His mother had to constantly drag him to the sink because he was playing in dirt and bugs, or grabbing jelly with his bare, nasty hands.

Liu and him were the best kind of brothers growing up.

Pillow forts, forest exploring, camping, video games, anything a kid could want, really.

Jeff was rowdier than Liu, and tended to get into more trouble, which echoed throughout his teen years.

This meant Jeff was costly to keep around, he was always making messes, always breaking shit, always hiding shit that he broke, and by the time everything added up, Jeff wouldn't have any college money saved up.

When Jeff was first born, Liu held him and then cried about how ugly he looked.

Liu was hella jealous of Jeff and constantly tried to steal his toys.

But as Liu got older, he realized he should just be nice because he's going to be stuck with him.

Then they were best friends and convinced their parents to get bunk beds.

Jeff used to talk in his sleep, but he grew out of it once he saw that Liu was keeping a list of everything that he’s said.

Liu still has it

#eyeless jack #liu woods #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #jtk #jeffery woods #child #childhood #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon

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lnarizakis · 5 years ago

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thanks for the food! | m. osamu

masterlist | cards against humanity x haikyuu!!

pairing: miya osamu x gen!reader

foreword: this took so long for me to get out omg but i hope you enjoy!! 💕

look out for: manga spoilers

“sorry for staring, mister. it’s just that i ain’t ever seen ___ before.” + “soup that is too hot.”

“You know, you should really eat something other than cold take out and cup ramen.”

(Y/N)’s roommate Chiba Sumiko sighed, resting a hand on her forehead. She watched (Y/N) sitting at their small kitchen table, currently chowing down on a half-empty box of take out from last night’s dinner. Disappointment washed over her as they let crumbs fall from the corners of their mouth.

“But you know I’m broke—“ (Y/N), with food still lodged in their cheeks, started. As the words left their mouth, they knew what Sumiko—who had a part-time job—would counter.

“Let me treat you. No, I will treat you,” Sumiko decided, sitting down next to (Y/N). The scenario was similar to a father sitting his son down for “The Talk.” Though, in this case, it was Sumiko lecturing (Y/N) that as a college student they should take better care of their health. This included eating a proper meal; eating only take out and cup ramen was definitely not beneficial to her health. As someone studying health and nutrition, they should know better.

And so Sumiko and her boyfriend planned a date, with (Y/N) unfortunately tagging along as a third-wheel. They decided on Onigiri Miya, a tiny restaurant near their campus. It was a quaint little restaurant, and the owner had just recently released their new line of ramen soups. It had been very well-received by the general public, at least the ones who had come in to try it out. Based on those reviews and the fact that they had never eaten there before (Sumiko claimed they had to “expand their horizons,” whatever that meant), the three decided that that was the perfect place to have lunch tomorrow (specifically, at 3).

—

The next day, (Y/N) arrived at the restaurant a little bit later than the couple, not wanting to be the first person to arrive. As they entered the restaurant, the aroma of ramen broth, vegetables, and rice flowed into their nose; the overall atmosphere just felt warm. It was a homely environment, one that (Y/N) would want to visit time and time again. Small talk filled the air, and the one person behind the counter, currently brewing new broth for any incoming customers, casually talked with the patrons that sat around the table. (Y/N) could hear the faint sound of the television sitting in the corner of the restaurant, playing a rerun of a two-year-old volleyball game.

“Ah, welcome in,” the restaurant owner called out to the three, a faint smile on his face. He was, for lack of a better word, extremely hot. (Y/N) could feel a slight blush painting their cheeks, and that most likely wasn’t because of the warm air of the hot food that filled the room.

(Y/N) sat down at the counter along with Sumiko, who had suggested they do so, and her boyfriend. From behind the counter, the man rolled up his sleeves and crossed his arms, handing (Y/N) three plastic menus, which they were to pass along sideways.

Promptly, he said, “Just let me know when you guys are ready to order.” The man pushed a small bell towards them, wordlessly telling them to signal him when they were ready. He turned back to the broth on the stove, also tending to the noodles in a pot beside the broth. He sighed contently— this was the life. He could have never pictured himself playing volleyball beside his brother, who was currently on the television screen, silencing the jeering crowd.

(Y/N)’s eyes scrolled through the menu. What were they to order? There was an array of onigiri to choose from; after all, she was in an onigiri restaurant. However, their eyes drew themselves towards the listing of newly released ramen labels. Why not stick to something they were used to eating?

“(Y/N)-chan, what are you going to have? I’m gonna get the spicy salmon onigiri. The ‘lil picture they have for it on the menu makes it look so good,” Sumiko said. Her words caught the attention of the restaurant owner, stirring the broth absentmindedly, letting out a chuckle. Being the kind partner he was, Sumiko’s boyfriend was content with having her leftovers.

“I think I’ll have the tonkotsu ramen,” (Y/N) stated, still scanning through the menu, making sure there wasn’t something that caught their eye even more than the ramen did. Luckily, there wasn’t, however, so they folded the menu back up and placed it atop the other two menus that Sumiko and her boyfriend had finished using.

Sumiko lightly tapped the bell, and the man behind the counter promptly turned around to collect the menus and finalize what they were going to have.

“I’ll have the spicy salmon onigiri and,” Sumiko pointed to (Y/N), “they’ll have the tonkotsu ramen.” The man nodded.

“Ah, yes. Those are good choices. I know so because I‘m gonna cook ‘em,” the man flatly said, earning a laugh out of the three customers. He set the menus away and began to work on their orders.

—

“Your salmon onigiri,” he said, after some fifteen minutes later. Four onigiri stood proudly on the plate he was holding side-by-side, just waiting to be eaten. The rice was still steaming. He presented the plate to Sumiko and her boyfriend, with an astonished gasp at its delicious appearance. Onigiri Miya was renowned for their aesthetically pleasing food designs.

“Your tonkotsu ramen.” The man then presented the bowl of ramen towards (Y/N), pushing it towards them. The hot steam of it rose up into their face, warming it up. (Y/N) breathed in the aroma of the soup, taking in everything all at once; looking down at it, the soup itself was presented oh-so perfectly, from the cut hard-boiled egg to the seaweed stacked atop each other along the side of the bowl, slowly mixing in with the broth. (Y/N) was practically mesmerized— they hadn’t seen anything like it since... they don’t remember when.

After some time, the man asked with concern, “You good there? You’re starin’ off into the abyss of the bowl.”

“S-Sorry for staring, mister. It’s just that I ain’t ever seen soup that is too hot before,” (Y/N) stuttered. Well, of course they had seen soup that is hot before. They mentally face-palmed themself. To their surprise, however, he laughed. Resting his (notably muscular) arms on the counter some distance away from where (Y/N) had set their phone down to eat, he had his full attention on (Y/N), smiling at them.

“That’s not what I meant. Y’see, I’ve been a little... not eatin’ properly. Simply put,” (Y/N) corrected themself. Taking the chopsticks into their hand, they began eating, looking down in embarrassment.

“Nah, I get it. My brother’s like that. Or, well, he was, in high school,” the man said. “His name’s Atsumu,” he continued, as he pointed to the screen, which currently displayed Atsumu setting for his teammate. The two of them watched the screen until the play ended. Atsumu’s team won the rally, earning them their point. His twin brother in front of (Y/N) pumped his fist, quietly cheering for Atsumu, even though he knew the outcome of the match. It was a two-year-old game, after all.

“I’m Osamu.” Gray eyes glanced over in (Y/N)’s direction, who was taken aback by the sudden introduction.

“Ah, uh, I’m (L/N) (Y/N),” they said, with a half-full mouth of food. Setting down their chopsticks, they wiped their mouth with a napkin. The ramen was so good, so warm, and just so affectionately cooked that (Y/N) gave up all their cares to messily eat the food in front of them.

“I can see you’re enjoyin’ it, (L/N)-han. I’m glad it’s that good.” Osamu watched (Y/N) enjoy the bowl in front of them. Their hunger was akin to his brother’s hunger to improve in volleyball. He felt a pang of familiarity in his chest.

“I love it, Miya-han. What do ya think, Sumiko-chan? How’s it for you?” (Y/N) turned their head towards the girl, taking her time with every bite of her onigiri. Her boyfriend held his own in his hands, ravishing down on it. His cheeks were red due to the warmth of the food. Sumiko turned towards (Y/N), smiling. She gave a thumbs up, a sign of her satisfaction. (Y/N) returned their own small smile.

“Looks like we’re all happy, Miya-han. Thanks for the food.” (Y/N) continued to eat, and Osamu departed from the counter.

—

“That was really good!” Sumiko exclaimed, walking out of the tiny restaurant. “We should go there again someday!” The two others beside her agreed.

(Y/N) shoved their hands into the pockets of their jacket. It was quite cold—colder than usual, at least—for a January afternoon. Though, the pockets of their jacket seemed to be emptier than normal. But (Y/N) paid no attention to that.

“Anyways, (Y/N), don’t you think that store owner was cute? I sure think he was. But you’re cuter, Ichiro, don’t worry.” Sumiko turned towards her boyfriend, giving her a small smile in return. Aw. Their relationship was so cute. (Y/N) wished they had a relationship at least a fraction as affectionate as theirs.

“Yeah, he was pretty cute, I guess,” (Y/N) started, drawing out their words. Though, they didn’t really know how to put it all together; there was just something about him that made them long for his affection (they didn’t know it at the time, but it was definitely his cooking). They hummed, trying to piece together what they were trying to say.

(Y/N)’s roommate looked on in curiosity. “Is there somethin’ wrong? Can ya feel your heartstrings tugging? Is this the sign of true love?” Ever the romantic she was. She’d been rooting for (Y/N) to find their one-and-only since the beginning of their first year of graduate school. Ever the supportive friend she was, as well.

“Agh, I’m just— I just can’t believe how much I stuttered around him... and ate so messily in front of him, too, and—“ (Y/N) sighed. Sumiko clasped a hand on their shoulder.

“It’s alright, (Y/N); you hit it off greatly with him! Didn’t you see it? He definitely did. I mean— the longing look in his eyes while he was talking to you was phenomenal! Ichiro, why don’t you look at me the way—“ Sumiko’s scold was cut short by a familiar voice calling out from behind them. It was Osamu. He held (Y/N)’s phone in his hands, as he made his way towards them. Ah, so that was why their pocket felt slightly emptier than usual.

“(L/N)-san. You, uh... you forgot this,” Osamu said, looking down at the phone. (Y/N) held out their hand, as he gave them back their phone using both of his hands.

“Oh, thank you, Miya-han,” (Y/N) replied with a little more fluster than they had before.

As they put their phone back in their pocket, Osamu whispered something under his breath, just barely audible. (Y/N) asked him to repeat what he had just said.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he started, “but I added my number to your phone.” (Y/N) smiled, their cheeks reddening—totally because of the cold January weather (yep, totally).

“No, I don’t mind at all. Let’s talk more often, and maybe you can cook something else for me as well.”

—

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