#at that point the noodles were just an acceptable way of getting cheese sauce into my mouth

[marxm-03]

Made Mac n cheese today but I didn't have any macaroni noodles so I felt like a 1700s Englishman in the Whitehouse preparing to see Thomas Jeffersons Mammoth Cheese

[longitud-de-onda]

ego

pairing; agent whiskey | jack daniels x female reader summary; you and jack are stuck in an apartment when the city you’re in goes into lockdown for covid-19. as the time goes by in isolation, tension can only rise. rating; t warnings; mention of sex and the results of a one-night stand, alcohol, angst, quarantine word count; 3.3k a/n; first whiskey fic! not sure how it went, but i’m happy with it. reader’s statesmen codename is agent cider

“Fuck!” Whiskey yelled from the other room and you heard the shattering sound of glass.

You didn’t want to get up but you figured you had to at this point.

“What’s wrong, Whiskey?” you say, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, staring out into the living space. He was pacing back and forth, which explained the sound that had been driving you insane. Glass littered the carpet near the coffee table.

“We have to fucking stay here,” he growled. He stopped to slam down his hand on the kitchen counter, causing you to jump. “Champ said the mission’s aborted. We’re stuck.”

Shit. “How long are we here for?”

“Don’t know.  At least a couple weeks, if not more.” Whiskey was getting more worked up with every word. “The damn quarantine doesn’t start for another 12 hours, we could be long gone by then, but headquarters fuckin’ wants us to stay.”

“It’s for the best, right?” you said, trying to stay calm about things. You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of living with Whiskey for an unspecified period, but you couldn’t complain. Statesman would still pay you, and for the mission you were holed up in one of their properties, a rather large and well-stocked two-bedroom apartment. You weren’t supposed to be here for more than a couple more days so you’d need to get more food, but beyond that? You were set.

“For the best? The best would be lettin’ us not get caught in a damn city-wide lockdown. We could at least take up another job in another city.” He was so worked up you were worried he would smash another glass or pull out one of the guns you knew were strapped under that jacket of his.

You wandered into the living room, stepping carefully around the broken glass to perch yourself on the couch. “Agent Whiskey, you’re a smart man. What’s the primary purpose of Statesman?”

“To protect the people of the world from terrorists and other major threats,” he said, reciting the phrase every agent knew by heart. Not because they had to, but because Champ was always saying it.

“Right. And COVID-19? It’s a major threat. The virus itself, yeah, but also the panic surrounding it. Everyone’s going insane. Plus, the quarantine helps limit the spread. Staying here is best for the public health. And another mission in another city? Whiskey, you know that the rest of the US is going to follow suit soon enough. We’ve got to accept that we’re here for the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t want to be here for the foreseeable future.” Even though you were frustrated that Whiskey was acting like a baby, he had at least stopped pacing and was now sinking onto one of the barstools against the kitchen counter.

“It’s a big apartment.” You shrugged. There wasn’t much left you could do at this point. You had to accept the situation.

.

“I can’t sit and read another damn book.”

You looked up to see Whiskey standing a few feet away from the couch where you sat, working on a project on your laptop.  He looked tired.

It had been almost 12 hours since you had lost contact with the rest of Statesman, along with all the intel work they had you doing. The distillery was shut down for health reasons, and given the high number of agents that had tested positive, they opted to shut down operations for a while, leaving you and Whiskey without anything to do to pass the time.

“You don’t have to read,” you said. “There’s a tv, a kitchen, you can do whatever you want. There’s an iPad too.”

“I don’t wanna sit around, doll. This life is much too boring.”

“It’s the life we’ve got to live, Whiskey,” you said, shutting your laptop and standing up. “And don’t call me doll.”

You walked back into your room and shut the door. Over the past couple of days, you had grown fed up with Whiskey; every couple hours he’d pop into wherever you were working and complain. He never wanted to talk with you. He never helped make meals. He didn’t want to do anything with you.

But you couldn’t necessarily blame him. Ever since that fateful drunken night a couple months ago things hadn’t been the same.

The two of you were celebrating a successful mission at the Statesman bar laughing and loudly boasting to whoever would listen. At 3am you stumbled out to the parking lot, attempting to get into your car when Jack sauntered up behind you.

“Cider, darlin’, you don’t think you’re gonna drive home in that state, are you?”

You scoffed. “I’m gonna do whateeeever I fuckin’ please, Jack, you can’t stop me.”

“I can stop you from driving home drunk.”

“What are you gonna do about it? Drive me home? ‘Cause I don’t think y’can like that.” You gestured lamely at Jack, swirling around your finger in front of his chest and then poking him.

“You’re right, darlin’, neither of us are gonna be makin’ it home tonight, but my truck’s got more space that that little sedan of yours so I’d suggest you sit pretty in my passenger seat, recline it and sleep.”

You made it into his car, but by the time he was helping you recline the seat-back you were tugging him on top of you, pressing your lips to his, and pulling him all the way into the truck. He closed the door and at the same time, dipped a hand under your shirt, working his way up to palm your breast. And the night disappeared into a drunken haze of moaning and connection and something slow and emotional that you were afraid to admit.

The next morning you woke up, pressed against Jack on the reclined seat of his truck, his breath light on your shoulder where his mustache tickled against your skin. Your neck was sore from the position and your arm hurt from the unnatural curve of the seat.

And you were both naked.

That was enough for your eyes to fly wide open. You had just drunkenly fucked your work partner of five years. Five whole years of a professional relationship. Five years of not letting his flirty nature get to you. And you ended up naked in his goddamn truck.

And Jack. He was still caught up on that high school sweetheart of his. The one he lost all those years ago. You knew Jack better than most, and ever since losing her, he hadn’t been one to fuck around. He was going to regret this, and you didn’t want to be the person that ruined things for him. Even if it was something you wanted. So you pushed his arm off from around you (thank god he was a heavy sleeper when hungover) and quietly opened the car door and slipped out into the morning sun.

Later that day you asked Champ to be reassigned partners. He looked you in the eye and asked you why and your silence told him everything.

And thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions, just signed you off to work with Agent Brandy and for Jack to work with Agent Bourbon.

It was going smoothly until a week later you ran into Jack for the first time since that morning as you were entering the briefing room and he was leaving. The look of anger in his eyes when he saw you caused a sharp pang of guilt that you felt for the rest of the day. The following evening he approached you at the bar.

“So you requested a new partner? Was I that bad?” He was stumbling a bit. Drunk. That took a lot of work for him. A lot of alcohol. You could smell it on his breath.

“I’m sorry Whiskey, it didn’t make sense to keep going. Had to stay professional, you know?”

“Right. Professional.”  You could tell he was trying to infuse his words with venom, but the alcohol slurred every syllable. “Throwing five damn good years down the drain, and now I’m stuck with Bourbon. Real professional, Cider.”

“You know it was the right decision. Don’t lie to yourself about it,” you said, trying to convince him. But you were also trying to convince yourself.

You didn’t see him for another couple months, missions keeping the two of you busy. That is until Agent Brandy got himself into a little accident and was stuck in the hospital for a few weeks and Champ gave you little warning before Whiskey wandered into the briefing room for your next mission, looking just as surprised as you were that the two of you were being assigned as partners again.

You sank down onto your bed. You’d be lying to yourself to say that you weren’t excited to work with Whiskey again, but you had fucked up and now he didn’t want anything to do with you.

.

“I’m going out for groceries,” you called back towards the bedrooms.

“Can you even do that?”

“Yeah, one person per household can leave for essential groceries.”

“When are you going to be back?”

“I don’t know, depends on the lines,” you said.

You heard a door open and Whiskey appeared in the living room. “Can you get some stuff for lasagna?”

“I don’t know how to make lasagna, Whiskey,” you said. If you were going to be doing all the cooking, he was going to have to deal with whatever you put on the table.

“I wanted to make it,” he said.

So Whiskey was finally willing to cook. Great. To be honest, you had missed his cooking. On previous missions, if you were lying low for a while, not unlike this, he would cook all the time. The two of you were both comfortable in a kitchen, but Whiskey’s cooking was really the best food in the world.

“Okay. Ricotta cheese, parmesan, the noodles, sauce, meat, what else?”

“Garlic and onion,” he said. And he smiled. That was the first smile he had directed at you. Probably since you had hooked up.

“Right. See you later?”

“See you later,” he grinned. You turn to head out the door. “And thank you, darlin.”

You would never let Whiskey know, but you smiled to yourself on the way out.

.

Things had gotten better between you and Whiskey after he made lasagna. He started helping out with meals. You had bought a few bottles of wine at the store and a few distilled drinks. Those made Whiskey’s eyes light up. Given your shared history with alcohol and each other, you were both pretty good at limiting yourselves, but a glass or two of wine with dinner had you talking into the late evening. You found yourselves spending more time sitting together on the couch to watch movies or read. Sitting down for every meal together became a standard, rather than an afterthought.

You still didn’t say a word about what had happened between you. You couldn’t. The whole thing was soaked in shame.

Sometimes you would come out to the living room but stop before you stepped into the light when you saw Whiskey staring at the photo of his late girlfriend that he kept in his wallet. Your stomach would turn and you retreat to your room again. As much as you hoped he didn’t notice you watching, you knew he did. He was nothing if not perceptive.

.

“Can we do something?” you looked up to see Whiskey standing in the door of your room.

“Like what?” you had been reading for the past five hours and were almost done with the series you had started the week before. It was probably good that he was getting you out of the room.

“I don’t know, I’m bored.”

“So am I.”

“Yeah, but—” he started. “Never mind. I get that you don’t want to spend time with me. I can take a fucking hint, just, next time? Can you just tell me and not act all distant?”

That went a completely different direction than you had expected.

“What do you mean, Whiskey?” You stood up. “I do want to spend time with you, where the hell did you get that idea from? I just asked what you wanted to do.”

“I mean you act so damn distant. I thought things were looking up, like you actually liked me again, but you clearly don’t.” His stance became defensive, and you could see the muscles in his face soften. “I try to do things with you and you accept but you’re never really there. You’re different, Cider. It’s like I don’t even know you.”

And here you had thought you were lucking out. Like he was beginning to forgive you for sleeping with him. For leaving him.

“Whiskey, I do like you. And I don’t know what I need to say for you to understand that.”

“I think you’re gonna need to do a lot more than saying shit,” he said. “You’re gonna need to do something. But maybe you could start by explaining things. That’d make me a bit happier.”

“And you think I want to keep talking?” You said it before you realized how awful it sounded. But the next words were tumbling out before you could stop them. “When you’re taking every word I say and thing I do and twisting it? I don’t have a fucking clue what I did that gave you the impression that I didn’t like you, I’ve been nothing but damn happy to have you talking to me again the past week. So I’m not going to be doing any fucking explaining when all you’re going to do is spit my words back at me like they were said to hurt you.”

“What did you do to give me the impression you didn’t like me? Does fucking disappearing the morning after and then asking to never have to work with me again count? Because that was a pretty clear message that you hated me,” Whiskey yelled. He turned around and slammed the door behind him.

He was right even if you didn’t want to admit it.

.

You spend the next couple of days holed up in your respective bedrooms. It was almost humorous how you managed to never run into one other. You even prepared meals separately, relying on leftovers from the week when you didn’t have the energy to cook. One lunch you made a plate for Whiskey too, leaving it out covered in plastic wrap on the counter. You heard him go out to the kitchen for lunch an hour later and that night when you made dinner, the plate was still sitting on the counter, wrapped up and uneaten.

He went out for groceries. You were in the living when he came back and stood up to help him unpack.

“I don’t need your help,” he said, almost devoid of emotion.

“I don’t mind helping.”

“Well, I don’t want your help.”

You took your leave. Not before seeing a large bottle of vodka peeking out of one of the bags. After you took your dinner into your room, you heard him wandering around with the television turned on, loud. When you went out to clean your dishes, he had a glass in his hand and was staring at the screen, playing some sort of morbid news about the virus. Something you were quick to identify as pure fear-mongering.

“You shouldn’t watch that, Whiskey.”

He glanced up at you, his voice thick with the alcohol and the southern drawl only amplified. “Cider, babe. You know my name.”

“And you know mine, Whiskey.”

“You should use it,” he smiled, “It sounds so nice coming from those pretty lips.”

Your stomach clenched. It was one thing to avoid you for what you had done. It was a whole other thing to torment you like this. You liked him, that was nothing new to you, the secret you had kept for years. Hearing him flirt again, flirt while drunk and out of it? It hurt.

“Right. Well, you should still stop watching. Good night.”

.

The next morning the entire bottle was empty on the countertop and you didn’t hear a single movement coming from Whiskey’s room until 2pm.

.

Things got worse. So much worse. The isolation was really getting to you. How anyone could manage this for more than a couple days was beyond you. Anyone doing this without anyone else in their home had to be the bravest souls.

.

“I can’t do this anymore,” your voice cracked as you stared down at Jack. You had pushed open the door to his bedroom after softly knocking and not relieving any response. It had been a couple days since that night with the vodka.

Jack was sitting on his bed, laptop up in front of him, but he closed it as soon as he saw you crying at the door.

“What’s wrong, Cider?”

“I can’t keep being alone in this house.” The tears were flowing down your cheeks and every few words were punctuated by a gasp for air. “I can’t keep avoiding you. I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know. And you haven’t responded well the last few days. But I know it’s ninety percent my fault, and I know you probably can’t forgive me at this point. I honestly thought you were getting close, but then—then you weren’t, and you probably hate me. And I’m so fucking alone now.”

In the time you had taken to say those words, Jack had sprung to his feet and was standing in front of you. His hands were planted on your upper arms, a calming pressure enough to get the tears to subside for a moment.

“Look at me,” he said, “All I ever wanted was an apology and for you to come back. I never wanted for you to disappear from my life, and then not offer any explanations. You’ve been my most trusted companion for years. I could never hate you.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“Of course not, darlin,” he smiled. “I’m mad at you, sure. Have been for a while. But hate you? Never. Can you just tell me one thing?”

“Anything.” You stared up at those swirling brown eyes that had always held you with such high regard. There were tears in the corners.

“Why’d you leave?”

“What?”

“That whole day was the worst day of my life since I lost her, you know? I woke up after an amazing night and you were gone, and then I got to work and was called in and told I had a new partner. It hurt. Just as much as losing someone. Maybe even worse ‘cause they’re still right there, but don’t want to see you.”

“Jack, I—” You weren’t sure where to start. Hearing his side of things made it so much worse. “You don’t do that. The whole, sleeping around thing? That’s me. But you don’t seem to have moved on, and I didn’t want you to resent me.”

“Resent you? I thought you knew. I wouldn’t have let that happen if I didn’t want it.”

“Do you mean—”

“Cider, you’re it for me. And I thought I wasn’t it for you. I thought you regretted that night.”

You stared up at Jack in shock. He didn’t regret that night? You had run away from him when he wanted you back? If you had stayed, would you two be—You couldn’t finish that thought.

“Am I wrong?” Jack asked, and you could now see the worry crossing his features. “You didn’t regret it, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.” It felt good to say that. After all of that, for those words to be out there. For the agreement to be laid down in front of the two of you.

He pulled you into a hug.

“You’re it for me too, Jack,” you said, and pushed him back. You wanted to see his face so that you could wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him like you had wanted to for years.

.

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @turquiosenights @el-lizzie​ @sparrows-books​ @dxxkxx​ @opheliaelysia​ @trashbin2​ @arcadianempress​ @rzrcrst​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: “Romantic Rail Getaway” Zuo Ran Route, Day 3

Translation Masterlist | Themis Event Masterlist

Zuo Ran Route: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Videos, where applicable, are hyperlinked on the headings in the post.

See under cut!

Part 1 – Kelosi Plaza – “Ruminating Over Kelosi City”

Kelosi City

According to everyone, Kelosi City was Rumbaliya’s famous capital of cuisine.

Many local specialty restaurants were scattered here, with the scent of food filling every part of the city.

Zuo Ran considerately looked for a travel guide to introduce us to Kelosi City.

With the travel guide’s patient, enthusiastic explanations, this capital of cuisine developed a detailed form in my heart.

Travel Guide: Ah, esteemed guests, welcome to Kelosi City.

Travel Guide: This is the Cuisine Arc opened in the romantic and artistic Rumbaliya, the islands that control the tastebuds and spirit!

MC: (An introduction method that’s full of artisticness… this must be one of the special characteristics of Kelosi City.)

MC: Mister Guide, could you give us a more detailed introduction?

Travel Guide: Of course, my esteemed guests.

INTERROGATION START

Special Attractions

MC: Could you give us a detailed recommendation of some special attractions here?

Travel Guide: Yes, I sincerely recommend you two to go see the Cuisine Museum and the Green-Shaded Castle.

Travel Guide: Those are our landmark attractions in Kelosi City.

Cuisine Museum

MC: The Cuisine Museum?

Travel Guide: Oh, that’s a museum that displays all sorts of cuisine-themed information.

Travel Guide: In the museum, the two of you can get a more detailed understanding of the developmental history of the Capital of Cuisine, Kelosi City.

MC: Is that so… I bet that when checking out the museum, it’ll be easy to get hungry.

Green-Shaded Castle

MC: What kind of place is the Green-Shaded Castle?

Travel Guide: The Green-Shaded Castle is a castle that’s been surrounded by green radish and flowers. Visitors have said that that place is as beautiful as a fairytale paradise.

Travel Guide: Esteemed guests, I highly recommend the two of you go there to see.

Travel Guide: Not only can you taste fantastical foods in the castle, but you can also enjoy an aristocratic service.

MC: (An aristocratic service and fantastical foods?)

MC: (What would those feel like? I’m suddenly feeling curious!)

Popular Foods

MC: Could you recommend the most popular foods here for us?

Travel Guide: The three major delicacies of Kelosi City, cheese mushroom vol-au-vents, pigeon meat pie, and beet lobsters.

Travel Guide: If you haven’t tried these three dishes, then you haven’t truly come to Kelosi City.

Cheese Mushroom Vol-au-Vents

MC: I kind of want to try cheese mushroom vol-au-vents.

Travel Guide: Esteemed lady, you truly do have taste.

Travel Guide: Cheese mushroom vol-au-vents mixes cheese with fresh mushrooms to make a special sauce, which is then stuffed into puff pastry and baked into a delicacy.

Travel Guide: Anyone who has tasted it will indulge in the richness of the cheese and the deliciousness of the mushrooms, to the point of being unable to free themselves.

MC: (That intense? Then I have to try it later!)

Pigeon Meat Pie

Zuo Ran: I’ve heard of pigeon meat pie before. This is a famous traditional dish of Rumbaliya.

Travel Guide: Mister, you’re right. I personally believe that this dish is the best for representing Rumbaliya’s local flavor!

Travel Guide: From the outside, it doesn’t look that different from typical savoury pies, but the meat filling is made from fresh, tender minced pigeon meat.

Travel Guide: When the taste of pigeon and the crispy savoury pie blend together, it becomes an incomparably enjoyable dish.

MC: (Whoa… I feel like this will definitely be delicious!)

Beet Lobster

MC: Is the beet lobster dish made from cooking the beets and lobster together?

Travel Guide: Esteemed lady, you are underestimating this dish too much. Kelosi City’s beet lobster dish is not this simple.

Travel Guide: For this dish, you must select the most tender beets, mince them, then add them into different seafoods including oysters and clams to simmer them into a sauce.

Travel Guide: When the seafood beet sauce is paired with the butter-fried lobster and taken to the table…

Travel Guide: The umami tastes of the seafood sauce and lobster work together, blending beautifully. Now this is the best taste.

MC: (Wow, I want to taste the beet lobster right now!)

INTERROGATION END

Travel Guide: Esteemed guests, feel free to ask anything else you want to know about.

MC: There’s nothing else – we now basically know what we need to, thank you.

Travel Guide: No problem, it’s my pleasure to answer your questions.

--

After bidding farewell to the travel guide, I turned on my phone and opened the trip map, looking up the locations of the attractions that the travel guide had mentioned.

MC: Hm… the Cuisine Museum and the Green-Shaded Castle seem to be in the same block…

MC: Lawyer Zuo, we can check out both places together later!

Zuo Ran: Sure. After seeing the museum, we can look for a place to eat… after, we can go to the Green-Shaded Castle.

MC: Okay, that’s perfect timing for tasting the dishes that the trip guide recommended!

 Part 2 – Cuisine Museum

[Gameplay]

 Part 3 – Green-Shaded Castle

[Gameplay]

 Part 4 – Kelosi Gourmet Area – “Restaurant Crisis”

MC: What exactly does the “fried air” mentioned in the info packet taste like…

After walking out of the Cuisine Museum, I was still discussing with Zuo Ran about the fun, creative cuisines that we had just seen in the museum.

MC: Fried moss, giant anglerfish braised noodles, lobster cuttlefish stew… I feel like they’re very particular dishes.

Zuo Ran: I found a local specialty restaurant…

Zuo Ran: The main hit at that restaurant is recreating the dishes at the museum while balancing the classic dishes of Rumbaliya.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, let’s go to that restaurant then?

My eager voice piqued a smile in Zuo Ran’s eyes.

Zuo Ran: Sure, I’ll call a cab.

--

Local Specialty Restaurant

Very soon, we arrived at the specialty restaurant Zuo Ran mentioned.

This restaurant was clean and organized, and the prices could be called fair.

Thus, we simply ordered some more local recommended dishes, experiencing the sumptuous happiness of cuisine.

However, this happiness ended right when we were paying the bill…

MC: No way, why are they making us pay this much money?! Boss, did you get it wrong?

Restaurant Boss: I’m willing to swear to God that the prices I’ve calculated are correct.

Zuo Ran: The unit prices on the receipt don’t match with the prices on the menu.

Restaurant Boss: What’s indicated on the menu is only the prices of the dishes themselves…

Restaurant Boss: But, please understand that there are also service fees, materials costs, processing costs, and so on that need to be added on in calculation.

MC: These additional costs were not explained in advance. We will not pay them!

Restaurant Boss: Oh! My God, I’m willing to guarantee that each cost charged by our restaurant is reasonable.

MC: Is the individual calculation of service fees, materials costs, and processing costs also reasonable?

Restaurant Boss: I really can’t believe that you’d actually bring up such a foolish question.

Restaurant Boss: If they are not calculated individually, how could we provide a more considerate service for guests?

MC: You’re obviously collecting fees at random and tricking customers!

[Gameplay]

Zuo Ran: We have already called the police. I recommend you keep your excuses just now for the police.

Restaurant Boss: Ugh, goddammit! Why can’t I get through with you?

The restaurant boss clearly couldn’t refute what I’d said, but he still remained stubbornly unreasonable.

Restaurant Boss: Hurry and pay up, then get out of my restaurant!

Restaurant Boss: If you stay in my restaurant for one more minute, I don’t know what I’ll end up doing.

--

Thusly, we were roughly chased outside by the boss.

Good thing the police came in time. Only then did the chaos stop.

After mediation, the restaurant boss was willing to collect payment based on the prices on the menu. Only with this did Zuo Ran and I manage to accept the results.

MC: … That restaurant boss went overboard!

MC: (If we were in Stellis City, I would definitely sue him into bankruptcy!)

Zuo Ran: I’m sorry, I didn’t think that restaurant would be like this…

He had just spoken, the sharp voice of a woman interjected from the roadside.

???: Look at these pitiful foreigners. Only you would go eat at those sorts of places.

The meaning behind these words was obvious. I couldn’t resist walking up to chat with her.

MC: May I ask, what were you… just talking about?

Local Resident: Ugh, a pitiful foreigner would actually ask this sort of question. I’m willing to bet that you haven’t come to Rumbaliya before.

MC: … It is indeed our first time here.

Local Resident: So what you’ve experienced is very typical – just as ordinary as the taste of the apple juice that Aunt Susanna makes next door to me.

MC: (This description…)

MC: My apologies, could you tell me about this in more detail?

Local Resident: Oh! I really can’t believe that you really don’t know nothing at all.

Local Resident: Alright then, I’ll tell you both out of the goodness of my heart.

--

INTERROGATION START

Problem with Local Specialty Restaurants

MC: Do… only foreign visitors patronize that restaurant?

Local Resident: That restaurant was a very popular major restaurant ten years ago.

Local Resident: Sadly… after foreign visitors like you started coming more and more, the restaurant prices became more and more expensive.

Local Resident: Heavens, God knows that I used to like their pigeon meat pie the best.

Past Prices

MC: Which also means… the prices at this restaurant used to be very normal?

Local Resident: Oh, of course. I really miss those old days.

Local Resident: In the past, the prices at this restaurant were cheap and the dishes delicious, and there weren’t any of these random service fees at all.

MC: (For real? This restaurant used to be so conscientious?)

Restaurant Boss

Zuo Ran: Has the boss of this restaurant changed before?

MC: (Makes sense… if the restaurant boss changed, it is indeed possible for prices to rise.)

Local Resident: I swear to God that the boss of this restaurant has never changed before.

Local Resident: Ugh, that fellow is pretty much like this because of greed, and only increased the prices because he wanted to make more money.

Local Resident: There are lots of visitors who don’t mind spending more, so these kinds of people end up succeeding.

Local Resident: What’s even more awful is how those bosses will directly raise the price, doubling the prices and selling them to foreign visitors.

Local Resident: The hearts of those detestable guys are as black as the soup in cuttlefish braised noodles!

MC: …

MC: (Though I don’t want to admit it, it looks like we really were tricked this time…)

INTERROGATION END

 Local Resident: Oh God, I got held up for so long with you…

Local Resident: My beloved Randy is still waiting for me to taste his apple pie.

Though I didn’t know who Randy was, it was obvious that this lady didn’t want to chat anymore with us about this.

MC: My apologies, we won’t hold you up anymore.

After hastily ending the conversation, Zuo Ran and I strolled along the bustling Kelosi Local Customs Road.

Unintentionally matching each other, we sunk into silence, feeling like there was something stifled in our hearts…

Heavy and gloomy, making us lose our desire to sightsee.

 Part 5 – Kelosi Local Customs Road

[Gameplay]

 Part 6 – Scenic Location Complication

Kelosi City Block

MC: …

The sky was gradually darkening, and the bustling, lively city was also gradually being dyed in the colours of quietude.

Only my depressed mood kept turning over and over, unconnected to this peace.

That restaurant boss’s unreasonable attitude kept appearing before my eyes.

--

[Flashback]

MC: These extra costs you’re talking about are all unreasonable. We will not pay them!

Restaurant Boss: Oh! My God, I’m willing to guarantee that each cost charged by our restaurant is reasonable.

MC: Is the individual calculation of service fees, materials costs, and processing costs also reasonable?

Restaurant Boss: I really can’t believe that you’d actually bring up such a foolish question.

Restaurant Boss: If they are not calculated individually, how could we provide a more considerate service for guests?

MC: You’re obviously collecting fees at random and tricking customers!

Zuo Ran: We have already called the police. I recommend you keep your excuses just now for the police.

Restaurant Boss: Oh, goddammit! Why can’t I get through with you?

The restaurant boss clearly couldn’t refute what I’d said, but he still remained stubbornly unreasonable.

Restaurant Boss: Hurry and pay up, then get out of my restaurant!

Restaurant Boss: If you stay in my restaurant for one more minute, I don’t know what I’ll end up doing.

[Flashback end]

--

Thinking about the restaurant boss’s attitude, arrogant despite being in the wrong as he shooed Zuo Ran and I out of the restaurant, I felt a headache.

Even worse, what happened after we left the restaurant told us that reality was far crueler than we had imagined.

MC: I thought that tricking guests was an outlier case, rather than being common.

Zuo Ran: It takes more than one cold day for ice to freeze three inches thick.

Zuo Ran: For the restaurant boss to be able to say these things, it indicates that he has long been used to using these despicable methods to trick foreign visitors.

MC: Yeah, those locals who chatted with us also said…

MC: “Some bosses will directly raise the price, doubling the prices and selling them to foreign visitors, who don’t know better anyways.”

MC: “That boss is comparably alright. There are even worse ones” – things like that…

Zuo Ran: Rumbaliya is a popular tourist destination and there’s significant traveler movement. Those who have been taken advantage of, yet don’t want to trouble others, will often choose to bear it in silence.

Zuo Ran: Those crooked businesses focus on this, and thus can act unscrupulously…

Zuo Ran: In addition, there are places where regulatory authorities haven’t done enough. Over time, these cases intensify more and more.

MC: I can’t just leave it alone like this! I’ll definitely expose these unreasonable random fee collection cases and stop these vile actions.

MC: Otherwise, every tourist who comes to Rumbaliya will run into what we encountered today!

The more I spoke, the angrier I got, my tone inevitably taking on an impatient mood.

Zuo Ran reached over and held my hand. That moment, some sort of feeling was transferred to me, from the warmth of his palm and through the fingers.

I suddenly stopped speaking, feeling like my heart had been immersed in a clear spring.

Zuo Ran: I understand what you are feeling. Your anger is not only because of what happened today; it’s also because you’re even more worried that something like this will keep happening…

Zuo Ran: And more people will be like us and encounter unfair treatment like this.

Zuo Ran: Don’t worry, I’ll help you.

Each one of Zuo Ran’s words were thorns that stuck in my throat.

He was like a clear spring soaking me. There was nothing I could hold back before him, and he could see through each one of my thoughts.

MC: … Lawyer Zuo, let’s think up of a way to collect evidence and solve this issue together.

Zuo Ran: Mhmm, let’s do it together.

Zuo Ran: Although… no need to be rush too much. We should think of a method slowly.

Zuo Ran: I’ve already sealed up today’s restaurant receipt as evidence.

Zuo Ran: Tomorrow, the train will arrive at James River station. As we sightsee, we can keep our eyes open for similar cases.

MC: Mhmm, as soon as we run into similar situations, we’ll retain the evidence!

Zuo Ran: Excellent. Our evidence will become a stepping stone to knock down the random fee collection cases.

The warmth transferred by his palm became warmer, like it was giving me a source of encouraging and confident power.

It irrepressibly gave rise to a belief – as long as I was with Zuo Ran, then anything I did would be successful.

That’s right, it must be this way.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #440

from a day or two ago.

Do you drink a lot of soda? I definitely do. :/ I'd lose weight so much easier if I could drop the habit. Are tomatoes the best food in the world? I don't like tomatoes unless they're very fresh and on a mayo and bacon sandwich. Have you seen The Blindside? I actually haven't. Do you have a favorite local pizza place? Not really. There's a place I like that isn't huge, but I don't have like, a serious passion for or loyalty to it. Would you date someone 10+ years older than you? Meh, I think ten years is my cut-off. Are you due for a haircut? For sure. >_< Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? Yeah. Even with my APAP mask, because I apparently move it too much in my sleep, I'm struggling with my sleep apnea nightmares/terrors. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Most of it. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all of them, no. How many different digital cameras have you owned in your life? How about cell phones? Cell phones, idk. I've had two "pro" cameras. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much always the same. Who is the last person you were in a room with just the two of you? What were you doing? Mom. We worked together on my room. What do you usually order at Subway? Turkey, bacon, American cheese, pickles, banana peppers, and chipotle on I want to say Italian bread. How long is your mother’s hair? It's hard to say, because it's all poofy now versus wavy like before it had to be shaved off. Don't repeat it to her ever, but she has, uh... "old lady hair" now, ha ha. What is your favourite car brand? I don’t care. Whose chore is it to clean the bathrooms in your house? My mom does it. Pick your three favourite fruits. Strawberries, kiwi, and uhhh... apples. Or pineapple. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Yeah. We used to play that a lot at Colleen's house on nights we had some drinks. Who were the last friends you went to hang out with? Oh jeez, idk. I haven't hung out with a friend in a long time. How many chairs are in the room you’re currently in? Zero. I'm in my bedroom. Are you bored right now? I'm bored almost every waking hour of my days. Have you ever seen a pelican in real life? I'm actually not sure. What’s important about April? My younger sister's birthday is in April. Is there anyone who hates you? Jason probably does. Would you consider adoption? Not for me personally. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Noooo. How do you usually celebrate your favorite holiday? My younger sister comes over here and we open our presents with Mom, who also cooks a nice breakfast. We then go to my older sister's house for the day to watch the kids open presents from their extended family. I say "extended" because the kids obviously aren't going to wait for us to get there to open the majority of their gifts from their parents, ha ha. What’s a few facts about the last person that talked to you? She's from New York, has five kids, has survived cancer (one almost advanced to a fatal level) twice, she loves owls, and recently graduated with her bachelor's in social work (it's never too late, people). What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender females. Where is the biggest scar on your body? It's probably where I had a cyst removal, which is in a spot I can't see. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? Absolutely not. I am NOT getting involved in that. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? I'd go to the gym sooner. Have you ever kissed anyone with a tattoo? Hmmm... I think Tyler actually may have had a The Legend of Zelda tattoo? I can't really remember. If not him, then no. Have you ever kissed someone you weren’t dating? No, but I've been kissed by someone I wasn't dating. Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Yes. What were you afraid of the most when you were a kid? Being separated from/losing my mom. Do you like to make the first move? No. When was the last time you completely broke down? A few weeks ago when I was having a PTSD episode. Are you listening to any music? No; I'm watching Gab play Final Fantasy X. Is your hair long enough to put in a ponytail? No. Has someone ever told you they want to spend the rest of their life with you? Hm, it's funny, I don't see him anymore. Have you ever peed in the woods? No. Have you ever played Twister? Yeah, I liked playing it as a kid. Are you looking for a boyfriend//girlfriend? Not actively, no. I really don't need one right now. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Of all friends I've EVER had, probably Colleen. Of the friends I still have, maybe Sara. What is the last microwaveable meal you had? I've been on a SERIOUS grilled chicken pesto kick lately. Mom buys these small Healthy Choice (or some brand like that) bowls that you put in the microwave and then pour the noodles and chicken into the sauce after and mix, and oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOD it is so good. What would you consider a talent of yours? Assuming the worst out of every imaginable situation. If Hogwarts was a real place and you were able to attend, what class do you think you’d excel at? According to those little quizzes I've taken, I lean mostly towards Hufflepuff, but with Gryffindor traits as well. Would you rather learn more about space or more about the ocean? Well, ideally, space, but I think learning much more about our ocean would be more beneficial to our planet and our prosperity on Earth. Do you have a mental illness? If yes, how have you learned to cope with it? If no, do you ever suspect you may have one? I have a lot. My bipolarity, OCD, and PTSD are *mostly* under control, but I most certainly still have trouble sometimes. My anxiety and AvPD are still rabid fucking hounds. My depression was well-managed not even that long ago, but life circumstances have it so it's been more aggressive than what was usual. Do you have a favorite character from The Avengers? I dunno, I like Loki ig. Thor is cool, too. It's been WAY too long since I've seen that movie. What type of cake would you like right now? Double chocolate cake sounds great rn. @_@ What was your dream job when you were a child? Are you going after that dream or not? Why? Paleontologist, and no, because I don't want to travel for work, and I could also never handle the heat during site excavations. Even though it may not work all the time, what usually helps make you feel better when you’re upset or down? Watching one of my comfort series on YouTube from channels I enjoy. Why do you personally take surveys? It's a method to just get all these thoughts out of my head and to vent when I need to without actually directly burdening someone with my problems. No one has to read 'em. It's purely for my benefit, and also to pass the time, which I have too much of. Are there any words that you can’t stand? Derogatory terms for certain groups of people. What are words that you love? Words like "serendipity," "bliss," joyous, bubbly words. I'm blanking on actual terms. If you had an endless supply of money for clothing only, what would you load your closet with? Ohhhh, lots of shit with studs and spikes. :') I've wanted a studded leather jacket since I was in middle school. Have never gotten one because of how pricey they are. :( I'd also get some KILLER boots and just obtain a more gothic wardrobe. I'd love corsets too if my body ever shrinks back to a point I'd be comfortable wearing well-made ones. What is your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. What is your favorite type of candy? Strawberry Sour Punch Straws. What color would you like to paint your nails next? I don't paint my nails. Realistically, they probably won't be 'til my entirely hypothetical wedding, in which case they'll probably be black. What do you think is creepy that society accepts as normal? Urinals, alsdkfja;klwejr. Like I get men's bathrooms give the option of using a stall, but still... side-by-side urinals are so weird and a breach of privacy to me. What is the silliest secret about yourself that you sometimes feel the need to hide? That I enjoy forum RP. I tell NOBODY because I fear being judged and found as weird. Like seriously, in my "real" life, maybe two people know. What do you think is a good date other than dinner and a movie? I want a picnic date really bad kalj;dkl;jwe. Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? No. They're all very similar. Do you ever give money to homeless people? No, admittedly. Mom instead likes to sometimes offer them bottles of water or if she's really feeling generous, a cheap meal at like McDonald's or something. She doesn't like to hand out money because, well, we know what a vast majority of homeless people spend it on. Do you like to brag or are you modest? I get really uncomfortable bragging, so I try to be as modest as I can be. What your favourite thing to have on toast? I love giving it a light toast, then adding a thin layer of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. It's bomb. Do you know how to surf? Would you ever like to learn? No to either. If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I love sprinkling some sugar in there. Would you prefer to spend time with your whole family all at once, or would you rather quality time with one family member at a time? Depends on what I feel up to, but I tend to enjoy family time as a group more. That way, I don't have TOO much pressure to be constantly social. I can just listen sometimes. What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? I have no idea. I worry what people have heard ME say/scream in my sleep. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, they're meerkat ones! :') Choose one: Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Absolutely a Milky Way. Who was the last person to comment you? My mom. I'm cool, I swear. How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? A lot over all these years, but I'd say that's normal when you've been friends since you were 8 and 10. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. What are you planning on doing after this? When I'm done taking this survey, I'll probably either go to bed or play a bit of WoW. Idk. Will you be up before 7 am tomorrow? I have my alarm set for 7, actually. Ever been the only one trying to fix a relationship? Mhmmmm. -_- What was the last bad thing that happened to your phone? The case that came with the phone got a big crack in it. Have you ever been with someone while they were throwing up? Absolutely not. I would start vomiting. I can't handle the sound or the act in general. Have you been to the beach this year? No; I haven't been in a long time, and I am noooot complaining. Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Yes. Are you tan? God no. Do you own any leather? No real leather, no. I never would. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Yes. We actually just talked today. Well, technically yesterday. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She doesn't really call me bad names. Have you ever listened to Christian music? Not of my own volition, but I've heard it because of other people controlling the radio. Are you the ‘creative child’? Yes, I'm considered that one. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? God no. That's when everything started going downhill. Have you ever been 'popular’? No. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Yes. Are you a fan of muffins? I LOVE muffins. What’s your most recent obsession? It's kinda chilled out now, but when Resident Evil 8: Village released, I was CRAZY over it. I watched SO many different let's plays of it. I think it's safe to say it beats out RE4 as my favorite installment.

[kinglazrus]

Make Tacos, Not War

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @nocturna-starr: Why did Sam Manson choose to be a vegan? Sam explains to Tucker why she refuses to eat meat and why his diet bothers her.

Summary: Sam, tired of Tucker constantly ragging on her for her dietary choices, challenges him to go one week without eating any meat. If he succeeds, then maybe she'll finally tell him why she went vegan in the first place. (A montage of Tucker's first, and only, week as a strict vegan)

Word count: 5339

Monday – The Bet

Monday morning, Sam and Tucker sat down at their usual lunch table without Danny. They were used to him skipping out on quality friendship time because of ghost stuff, but this week, it was his family that had him occupied. Danny had been on edge lately, acting paranoid, and maybe even hallucinating. Danny's little stint on the Spin-o-Matic definitely didn't help.

Sam and Tucker blamed it on lack of sleep because of all the ghost hunting, not that they'd tell the Fentons that. Maybe a little time away from Amity would do him good. Until then, it was just them holding down the fort until Danny got back. This meant that Sam knew exactly what Tucker was going to ask when he opened his mouth after they sat down.

"So, really, why do you­–"

"No," Sam said, cutting him off. Ignoring Tucker's bewildered look, she popped the lid off her pasta salad. It was a new recipe she was trying out, with a spicy almond butter sauce rather than her usual vinaigrette. She was looking forward to it.

Tucker reached across the table, covering Sam's salad with his hand, forcing her to look up at him. "You don't know what I was gonna ask," he said.

Sam glared at him until he moved his hand. Gathering up a forkful of fusilli and red peppers, she took her time savouring the bite, chewing slowly. The sauce could use a bit of a stronger kick, but overall, she liked it. Only once she was satisfied that she had gotten a good taste did she swallow and answer. "Actually, I do, because you ask it every time Danny goes away."

Tucker scowled and folded his arms, unable to argue that point. "Okay, maybe I do. Answer me and I'll stop asking."

"Stop asking and maybe I'll answer."

"That... doesn't make any sense."

Sam jabbed at Tucker with her fork. "Neither does you being obsessed with why I'm vegan."

"I'm not obsessed! I just want to know, there's nothing wrong with that," Tucker said.

They glared at each other. By now, this was all routine. They weren't actually mad at each other, but their conflicting views meant they got annoyed with each other sometimes. It was fine, because they were always friends in the end, but sometimes Sam wanted to eat without someone questioning her dietary and moral choices.

Setting her fork down, she steepled her fingers and fixed Tucker with a calculating gaze. "Fine. I'll tell you. If you go one week with a vegan diet.

"Um, what?"

"One week, no animal products, and I'll tell you. I know that would be practically torture for you, but­–"

"Okay."

Sam faltered, "Wait, what?"

"Okay. I'll do it."

Leaning forward, Sam scanned Tucker's face. He looked completely serious, grinning at the challenge. Sam never thought she'd see the day where Tucker Foley would be excited about eating vegetables, but she wasn't about to toss away such a golden opportunity.

"Okay. It starts tomorrow, goes until next Tuesday. No cheating. I've got a binder of recipes at home that Anna uses. I'll bring it to your place tonight," Sam says. She makes a mental note to talk to Tucker's parents about the bet, knowing how much they love their barbecue nights. With any luck, they will make Tucker stick with the diet. Tucker's mom should. Sam knew how much she liked to cook, and some of her vegan recipes might interest Angela.

"Cool. Wait, who's Anna?"

"Our maid."

"You have a maid?!"

—

Surprisingly, it took Tucker a few hours to regret accepting the bet. He spent most of the afternoon feeling smug, knowing that Sam would finally divulge why she was vegan. And then, when he got home, opened the front door, and was hit by the glorious smell of roasting ribs, he realized just what he'd agreed to.

"I'm going to die," Tucker moaned. Swinging his backpack off his shoulder, he tossed it into the living room and trudged over to the kitchen. Inside, his mom was working on dinner. They often ate early since she worked the nightshift at the twenty-four-hour pharmacy. Dinner for Tucker and his dad was usually breakfast for his mom.

"What's wrong, baby?" Angela asked, glancing at Tucker over his shoulder.

"I'm going to starve from lack of meat this week," he said.

"Oh, is this about that bet?"

Tucker lurched upright, slamming his hands on the table. "You know about that? How do you know already?"

Angela laughed. Tucker always thought his mom was really pretty when she laughed. "Sam called me not too long ago. I think it's a great idea! We should all try it for the week. As a last hurrah, I'm making your favourite food tonight."

"Cajun ribs?" Tucker asked, earning a nod. "Marinated steak bites?" Another nod. "Beer-braised Szechuan chicken wings?"

"All of it!"

"Mom, you're an angel, I love you so much," Tucker said, practically drooling over the table. If he died this week from lack of protein, at least he will have had one last good meal to remember.

—

The doorbell rang halfway through dinner. Tucker, sticky-fingered, mouth covered in Szechuan sauce, went to answer it.

Sam stared at the orange sauce staining his lips. "Nice, Foley. That's a great look for you."

"Oh, shut up," Tucker said. He quickly wiped his mouth on the paper towel he'd brought with him. "Thanks for calling my mom, by the way. She's making all of us vegan for the week. I won't even get to come home and smell the sweet, juicy scent of steak and burgers. For a whole week!"

"You can't tell, because it's on the inside, but I'm weeping for you right now," Sam said, deadpan.

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the book."

Sam passed him the binder. It was surprisingly heavy, filled to the brim. Tucker was impressed the rings managed to hold all the pages. Didn't stop him from holding the binder away from his body like it was a feral animal, though.

"These are all vegan?" Tucker asked, gaping at the pages.

"How many recipes were you expecting?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Ten? It's vegetables. How much can you do with vegetables?"

Sam shook her head, sighing in disappointment. Clapping a hand on Tucker's shoulder, she leaned and said, "I really pity you, Tucker."

"Hey!" Tucker shouted, indignant. "Rude."

Sam, unswayed, rolled her eyes. "Suck it up, it's not that bad. Just look at a few of the recipes. You might actually like them."

"I am going to die," Tucker moaned. Opening the binder, he flipped through a few pages, his grimace getting deeper with each one. "Veggie burgers? A travesty. Zucchini noodles? Do I have to say it?" He paused halfway through the book, pointing to a stained page. "Fried bean tacos?"

"I use that one a lot," Sam said, explaining away the stains. She wasn't the neatest cook.

"Okay, that one actually sounds kind of good." He snapped the binder shut and tucked it under his arm. "I still don't get why you can't just tell me why you're vegan."

"I could, but it's a lot more fun this way."

Tucker disagreed.

—

Tuesday – Day One

In the morning, Tucker had a smoothie for breakfast.

"Sorry, baby. I need to go to the store and get some groceries to make most of the really good recipes," Angela said. She sipped at her own smoothie, bags under her eyes. This was her dinner before she would go to sleep. "I don't work tonight, so I'll pick some stuff up later. For now, your lunch is in the fridge."

Tucker shrugged. He liked smoothies, although he wished they were more filling. Downing the glass without complaint, he grabbed his lunch from the fridge—a single container, which didn't bode well—before setting his empty cup in the sink.

"Later, Mom. Have a good sleep!" he shouted over his shoulder before heading out the front door.

—

Tucker stared in dismay at his lunch. Tomatoes, cucumber, olives, red onions, sliced and diced and tossed into a cheap plastic container with a strong-smelling dressing. And some weird little green stuff scattered all over it.

"That's oregano. It's a pretty standard herb that your mom probably uses all the time. Don't be such a baby," Sam said. She tore into her bean burrito with gusto, smirking at Tucker from across the table.

"It's just... vegetables..." Tucker says.

"It's vegan."

"There's no cheese!"

"It’s vegan. And there's dressing. Just shut up and eat it."

"As soon as Danny gets back from his road trip, I'm going to tell him you tortured me. Tortured!"

Sam ignored him, instead savouring her burrito and silently delighting in what a nice day it was. Sunny, but not too warm, with a cool breeze. The perfect day for lunch outside. They weren't the only ones who chose to sit outside instead of in the cafeteria, but everyone was scattered across the lawn, so it wasn't too crowded.

Tucker groaned. "I gave my mom the whole binder, and she chose to make this?" Looking across the table, he stared forlornly at Sam's burrito. "That at least looks like something I'd eat. This," he gestured to his Greek salad, "is just plant stuff!"

"Congratulations, you know what vegetables are." Sam rolled her eyes as Tucker groaned again. "It's not going to kill you. You didn't have to agree to the bet."

"You didn't have to make it a bet. I just want to know why you don't eat meat, that's all."

Sighing, Sam put her burrito down. She folded her hands on the table and stared intently at Tucker. "I want to know why I have to explain my personal choices to you. Maybe I'm allergic to the preservatives people put in certain meat. Maybe I'm allergic to beef. Maybe I just don't like how meat tastes."

"I think we both know it's none of those reasons," Tucker says. Reaching into his container, he picks out an olive, grimacing at it, and pops it into his mouth.

"You're right. It isn't any of those reasons, but if it were, that would be my business. Do you get people constantly asking you why you eat meat?"

"Well, no, that'd be stupid."

"So why isn't it stupid for people to ask me why I make my dietary choices? I'm tired of having to constantly justify being vegan. Yeah, there's more to it than me just liking vegetables. But, quite frankly, I don't owe anyone an explanation, especially when they're just going to scoff in my face about it and act like it's dumb."

Tucker stared guiltily down at his salad.

Sam stood up, re-wrapping her burrito, and shoved it in her backpack. "If you want to know why I'm vegan, then you have to respect the effort it takes to be vegan first. So shut up and eat," she said before leaving.

—

Tucker picked at his quinoa cakes, watching them crumble under his fork without actually eating them. Sighing, he stabbed at a chickpea and dragged it through the balsamic sauce decorating his plate, drawing meaningless swirls.

"Something wrong?" his dad, Maurice, asked. Hiding his mouth behind his hand, he leaned toward Tucker and whispered loudly. "Not a fan of the quinoa either, huh?"

"Maurice, you are going to eat every little seed on that plate or else I'm never making you ribs again. You need less red meat," Angela chastised.

"Oh, man," Maurice grumbled, but dutifully went back to eating.

"But your father has a point. What's up, Tucker?"

"I think I made Sam really mad today," Tucker said, lowering his fork. "I didn't think she really minded me asking about being vegan, but she got all huffy talking about respect and stuff."

"Do you respect her?" Angela asked. Her stare was intense.

"I mean, yeah. She's my friend. She's cool, and smart, and stuff." Tucker shrugged. "We wouldn't be the same without her." In a lot of ways no one else would ever realize.

"So, show her that. She wasn't 'huffy,' she was upset, and probably didn't think you were respecting her and her boundaries. Even if it seems like a small thing to you, it could be incredibly personal to Sam." Angela reached across the table and squeezed Tucker's hand. "Apologize to her tomorrow, and then everything'll go back to normal."

Tucker squeezed back, smiling. "Thanks," he said. Feeling better, he finally dug into his dinner. It wasn't half-bad.

—

Wednesday – Day Two

Catching Sam outside science class, Tucker grabbed her backpack and stopped her from going in. He had seen her from the other side of the hall and sprinted all the way down to intercept her.

"What do you want, Tucker?" Sam asked, shaking him off.

He held up a finger as he caught his breath. For someone who ghost hunted on the regular, he was really out of shape. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was kind of an ass yesterday."

Sam pursed her lips. "Yeah, you were."

"You're one of my best friends, and I respect you, even if I don't always act like it. You don't have to go through with your end of the bet if you don't want to," Tucker said.

"You just want to eat meat again."

"Obviously I want to eat meat again. It's only been a day and I can feel myself wasting away." Sam started walking away. Tucker scrambled to stop her, latching on to her sleeve and saying, "But! But I want to make it through the week. Even if you decide not to follow through, I will."

Sam's pursed lips softened into a smile. "I respect you too, Tucker. I may not like that you're practically a carnivore, but you're a decent guy."

Tucker grinned. Letting Sam go, he straightened up and reached into his backpack. All that honesty made him hungry. He pulled out his snack for the day, homemade fruit roll-up, and took a generous bite.

"You think we could have that exact same conversation in front of Melanie from calculus?" he asked Sam. "She said she really likes guys who respect women."

Sam hummed, like she was actually considering it. "I don't know," she said before walking into the classroom.

"Is that a yes?" Tucker shouted after her, mouth full.

"See you at lunch, Tuck."

"Sam, is that a yes? Come on!"

—

Thursday – Day Three

A solid block of tofu was not Tucker's idea of a good meal. A solid block of tofu marinated in a Sriracha-soy sauce, grilled, and stuffed into an English muffin was an okay meal. He licked a line of sauce dribbling down his fingers, enjoying the taste of turmeric.

"Is your mom only making the spicy recipes?" Sam asked. A victorious grin overtook her face at the way Tucker devoured his lunch.

"No, she made that fruit stuff, too. Tomorrow's pancakes for breakfast, apparently," Tucker said. He took another bite, chewing happily, and swallowed. "Tonight is some kind of pilaf thing?"

Sam frowned and asked, "Is it the one from the front of the book or the back?"

"I don't know. Why does it matter?"

"There are still a few recipes in there from when I was just vegetarian. My parents wouldn't let me go full vegan when I was younger because they were worried about protein intake," she explained. "Some of those recipes have eggs, milk, and cheese in them still, and maybe some fish. Most of them are at the front."

"Wait, wait, wait." Tucker lowered his sandwich. "Fish?" Last time he checked, fish was meat, which meant it definitely shouldn't be in a vegetarian recipe.

"I had a pescatarian phase before they let me go full vegan. Those recipes have blue circles in the corner. Make sure you warn your mom about them."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. But what the hell is pescatarian?"

A familiar glint entered Sam's eyes. It was the look she gave right before she was about to lecture someone. "I am so glad you asked," she said sweetly.

"No, I take it back," Tucker said, shaking his head vigorously, but it was too late.

"There are actually a few different variations of vegetarianism. Lacto-vegetarians can eat dairy products, but no other animal products. Ovo-vegetarians allow eggs. Lacto-ovo is both dairy and eggs. Pescatarians, on the other hand, usually have no dairy or eggs, but they do eat fish," Sam said.

She was brimming with excitement, eager that Tucker was actually showing interest in her lifestyle for once. In all their arguments about food, never once had he shown genuine curiosity for vegetarianism, only disdain.

"Isn't that kind of hypocritical?" Tucker asked. "Fish are animals. That's meat. That's exactly what being vegetarian is against."

"It depends on why they're vegetarian. It could be for dietary reasons, not because of a concern about animal cruelty. Fish has a lot of health benefits, especially for your heart, while too much red meat is bad for you. Or, they can be using fish as an alternative protein source. While mass fishing isn't without its issues, it has a lower environmental cost than raising livestock."

Tucker stared at her blankly.

Realizing she had lost him, Sam sighed. "Basically, there's a lot of reasons," she said.

Tucker nodded, finishing the last bites of his lunch. Even if he didn't really get what Sam was saying, she appreciated that he tried. Maybe Tucker wasn't a hopeless carnivore after all.

—

Long after Tucker was meant to be asleep, he sat at his desk, a bowl of Cajun-seasoned popcorn in his lap, and stared intently at his computer. The glow of his screen washed him in pale blue light, glinting off his glasses as he shoved handfuls of popcorn in his mouth.

Opening his browser, he typed into the search bar: what makes vegetarianism better?

—

Friday – Day Four

"Ha!" Tucker shouted, slamming a piece of paper down on the picnic table as soon as he reached it.

Sam tried to read it, but his hand covered most of the text. Lifting her eyes to Tucker's, she asked, "How were the pancakes?"

"Aggressively mediocre," Tucker said, flopping into his seat. He swung his backpack up onto the table and pushes the paper toward Sam. "I found out your secret," he said in a singsong voice as he reached into his backpack.

Sam snatched up the paper, sparing Tucker an annoyed glare, and scanned it. "Did you print out a page from a discussion forum?"

"I needed evidence," Tucker said. Digging around in his backpack, he searched for today's lunch, eventually pulling out his burger. Portabella mushroom, carrot and cucumber slaw, avocado spread, and a tangy sauce stuffed into a rye bun. He was actually looking forward to this, but he'd die before telling Sam that.

"Evidence of what?" Sam said, giving the page a more thorough read.

"You vegans aren't so great."

"First, I never said we were great. Second, what the hell, Tucker?" Sam's gaze halted halfway down the page.

Tucker grinned smugly, knowing exactly what she had found. "Most of your precious vegetables are farmed using exploited labour. It's practically slavery. At least raising livestock doesn't have that."

"You think big corporations deadest on producing as much meat as possible are against exploiting workers?"

"Well, no, but–"

"And you're forgetting about local farmers. I get my produce as local as I can. I have a greenhouse so I can grow my own food year-round."

"Maybe you do, but I was just–"

"And just because the produce industry isn't 'pure,' that doesn't make certain livestock practices better."

"I didn't say that."

"And I agree with you completely," Sam finished.

Tucker's next protest died on his lips. "You what?"

"I agree," she repeated. Folding the paper Tucker gave her in half, she slid it across the table back toward her. "No mass industry like that is perfect. That's exactly why I try to grow my own food and buy local as much as I can. But one person isn't going to affect much, so I protest, too. I speak out in the hopes that these practices will stop."

"Oh." Tucker deflated, his righteous indignation leaving him in a flash. "At least you know," he added weakly.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Sam enjoying the very same tacos Tucker had pointed out the first time he opened her recipe book. Tucker chewed thoughtfully on his burger—which he decided was only okay because he didn't like the texture of the mushroom—and turned Sam's words over in his head. He specifically thought about her callout of big industries, something her family was deeply involved in.

"So, does everything you just said have anything to do with why you're vegan?" Tucker asked.

"Three more days, Tuck," Sam said, smirking at him over her taco.

"Ugh." Tucker groaned but let it go. Three days. He could wait three days.

—

Saturday – Day Five

Standing at the counter, Tucker flipped through Sam's recipe binder, giving it a more thorough look through. He easily found the recipes his mom had already tried, marked with green stick notes. A few more were marked in green. He figured those were ones she wanted to try.

Angela shuffled into the kitchen, yawning.

"Morning, Mom," he mumbled. After a moment, he blinked, frowning in confusion, and looked up. "Didn't you work last night? Why are you awake?"

"Anderson asked me if he could take my shift, needed the extra money. I don't work again until Sunday night, which means you have to suffer through me all weekend, baby," Angela said, giving Tucker a quick hug and ruffling his hair.

"Ugh, Mom, nooo," Tucker whined half-heartedly.

"What are you doing?" she asked, seeing the recipe book laid out before him.

"Well, one of the reasons Sam wanted me to do this was so I could appreciate the effort being vegan took. Or something like that." He waved his hand dismissively. "But just eating the food doesn't take a lot of effort."

A proud small graced Angela's lips. "Do you want to help me cook today?"

Going back to the binder, Tucker showed Angela a page he had marked with his thumb. "Sam's got a couple snack recipes here. Appetizer stuff, like mini-tacos, stuffed peppers, assorted veggie bowls, stuff like that. I thought it might be fun to make a bunch of them."

"That sounds fantastic!" Angela said, giving Tucker another squeeze. "We can pick out which ones you want to make and go to the store. I'm going to tell everyone we run into what a considerate young man you are."

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"We should have breakfast before we go. Anything in particular you want?"

"Um, actually..." Tucker trailed off. Blushing even more, he pointed toward the table. "I tried making the lettuce wraps, but, uh.... yeah."

The lettuce wraps were more like lettuce massacres. The iceberg lettuce wouldn't peel neatly off the head and Tucker ended up ripping most of the leaves in half, resulting in wraps that couldn't wrap around anything. Unevenly chopped vegetables spilled off the cutting board into the table. Off to the side, a ramekin filled to the brim, with sauce dripping down the sides, was in the process of staining the tablecloth.

"You are so lucky I'm here," Angela teased.

"Mom," Tucker lamented, but he actually sort of liked it.

—

Sunday – Day Six

Tucker rocked back on his heels, cradling his chin in his palm, as he scanned the Nasty Burger menu. He finally understood what Sam was talking about every time she complained about how there was nothing to eat her. For Tucker, who loved big, sloppy burgers, there was an abundance of options. But for vegans? Or even vegetarians? It was woefully lacking.

Which made sense, because it was a burger place. But Sam said she couldn't get a decent vegan meal anywhere in a five-block radius around the Nasty Burger, which meant whenever she, Tucker, and Danny went to eat there, she couldn't pick food up somewhere else and bring it over.

Tucker hummed, looking over his limited options, and almost missed Valerie walking in front of him, heading around the counter to start her shift.

"Hey, Tucker," she said, pulling on her hat. She gave the acne-riddled teen currently at the register a wave. "You can go on your break, I'll take over."

"Thanks, Val," the kid said.

"So, Tuck. Might Meaty Melt with extra meat?" Valerie asked, already punching it in.

"Actually, no," Tucker said. He couldn't decide between the veggie burger or one of the salads. The kitchen probably didn't have a separate grill for the veggie patties. Would the meal not count if it touched beef juice? It wouldn't be the same as eating a beef burger, but Sam always said it made her uncomfortable knowing the veggie patties might have been grilled in raw juices.

"We've got a new meaty burrito, with sausage stuffed beef." Valerie waved to the promotional sign on the menu board.

"Sausage stuffed beef? How does that even work?"

"No idea, want to try it?"

"Not today. What kind of fryer oil do you use?" Tucker asked, finally looking away from the menu.

"Uh..." Valerie frowned. Glancing back at the kitchen, she squinted at the fryers. "I think we just use canola, why?"

Tucker nodded, finally settling on his order. "I'll get the veggie burger, but can I get the patty deep-fried? And no mayo."

Valerie didn't make a move to punch it in. "What?"

"What?"

"You want a veggie burger?"

"Yeah." Tucker shuffled his feet, feeling awkward. "Why?"

"You. Tucker Foley. Carnivore of Casper High. You want a veggie burger. With no mayo." Valerie looked like she just saw her dad petting the ghost dog that ruined her life. She looked like the world had turned upside down.

Immediately, Tucker realized he could have fun with this. "I'm vegan," he said.

Valerie's face went completely blank for one glorious moment before she screeched, "What?!" Leaning across the counter, she grabbed Tucker. "Since when?"

"Uh, for a while now. Geez, where have you been, Valerie? Don't you know meat is murder?" Tucker asked, tutting and shaking his head.

Valerie, looking like she had woken up in another dimension, slowly punched in his order. Her shocked expression had Tucker giggling all throughout his meal. He made sure to look extra pleased with his burger whenever Valerie looked his way.

—

Monday – Day Seven

Tucker popped the last bite of his burrito into his mouth. It had been an absolute monster full of three kinds of beans, guacamole, salsa, and a wide range of vegetables. His mom specifically saved that recipe for Monday night because she knew it would be his favourite. Chewing fast, Tucker didn't even take the time to savour, instead swallowing as fast as he could and throwing his arms in the air.

"I did it!" he cheered. Pushing away from the table, he leapt to his feet and whooped. He pranced around the room. "I did it, and I didn't cheat, and nobody can ever say I can't appreciate a good vegetable ever again!"

Sam, who had joined the Foley's for dinner that night, shook her head as she watched Tucker. She still had half her burrito left, as did Tucker's parents, because they didn't try to inhale it like they hadn't eaten in a week.

Tucker skipped around the table and stopped beside Sam's chair. "Now you have to tell me."

"I thought you said I didn't have to?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tucker went completely still, his face falling.

Sam laughed. "I'm just kidding. But I'm going to enjoy my dinner first. We aren't all heathens," she said.

Groaning, Tucker returned to his seat. For the rest of the meal, he kept motioning for Sam to hurry up and finish eating. It only made her chew slower. When she finally finished, Tucker eagerly stood up.

"Okay, let's go," he said, grabbing her hand.

Sam pulled back. "Mr. Foley, would you like some help with cleaning up?"

She and Maurice shared sly, conspiratorial grins as Tucker protested loudly.

"That sounds lovely, Sam. Thank you for offering!" Maurice said.

Twenty minutes later, when the dishes were clean, the kitchen was spotless, and the floor was swept, Sam turned to Tucker and said, "Okay, let's go."

"Finally!"

Tucker dragged Sam into his room, closing the door. He took the beanbag chair in the corner of the room while Sam claimed his desk chair.

"So, the reason?" Tucker prompted.

"When people get rich, the first thing they want to do is make more money," Sam started.

"What does that have to do with being vegan?"

"It's relevant! My great-grandfather invented stuff, and he was good at it. Made a lot of money doing it. By my grandfather wasn't as savvy. He took over the company, but he wasn't as innovative. To keep the money coming in, he looked to other industries," Sam said.

"Like farming," Tucker said. "You've mentioned that before."

"Yeah. When I was eight, before he passed away, my grandfather took me to one of his industrial farms. He knew I liked animals and he thought it'd get me interested in the family busy."

"When you were eight," Tucker deadpanned.

Sam nodded. "When I was eight. I saw how horribly the animals were treated there, and it honestly scarred me. I couldn't stand eating meat after that, not after knowing that's how they're treated."

"And that's it?" Tucker asked. He frowned, a little let down. The way Sam built it up, he thought there would be some big reveal. Maybe a deep, dark secret she never shared with anyone before. But it wasn't. She had just been a little girl who loved animals and hated to see them hurt.

"Sorry it wasn't worth the wait," Sam said with a wry grin.

Tucker shrugged. "Eh. My fault for building it up so much." He paused. "Are you going to take over the family business one day?"

Sam lowered her cheek to Tucker's desk and frowned. "I don't know. I don't want everything to be handed to me on a silver platter just because my family has money. I want to work for it. But..."

"If you take over," Tucker said, realizing where Sam was going.

"I can change the way they do things. There are lots of ways to farm ethically. Small local livestock growers? I support them wholeheartedly. They care about their animals and make sure they have good lives before they're killed. I want the Manson Company to be like that," she said. "And until I can make that change happen, I refuse to eat meat.

"Huh. Well, if anyone can do it, you can. I don't think I know anyone as stubborn as you are," Tucker said.

Sam smiled softly. "Thanks, Tuck. That means a lot."

"Now will you talk to Melanie from calculus?" Tucker shot finger guns at Sam. "You never actually said no."

"Oh my god, you're unbelievable." Leaning over, Sam snatched a pillow from Tucker's bed and whipped it at him.

"Hey!" he rolled away, jumping to his feet, and hoisted the beanbag over his shoulder. "Was that a threat, Manson?"

"You think you can beat me, the reigning pillow fight champ since our first sleepover in third grade?" Sam asked, snatching up another pillow.

"I can damn well try!" Tucker pounced.

Sam immediately beat the stuffing out of him. But he wasn't too choked up about it. He made good on the bet, after all. Thanks to that, he now understood Sam a little better. Tomorrow, Danny would be back, and everything would go back to normal. There was no way Tucker would give up his food arguments with Sam, even if they had an understand now. They were just too much fun.

Lying on the floor, panting and wondering how Sam could bruise him with pillows, Tucker hoped Danny had fun this week. Tucker certainly did.  

[thebarefootking]

Food

As with many autistic people, my childhood was rife with battles at the dinner table over what I would and would not eat. (Or, in my case, the bar. Our trailer didn't have a dinner table, per se, and I ate on a tall chair in the kitchen, facing across the bar toward the living room TV, while my parents sat on the couch.) Some foods were fan favorites, some I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot fork. Tomatoes, I hated (and still hate!) One of my earliest memories is of a preschool teacher, so much bigger than me, coming up behind while I picked at my food.

"Don't you like tomatoes?"

"No. They're gross."

"Have you ever tried a tomato?"

"No. They smell bad and they're mushy."

"Well how do you know you don't like it, if you haven't tasted it?" she asked, ignoring the fact I'd just told her. "Try it. For me?"

"I don't wanna."

"Just one bite?"

"I don't. wanna."

"You need to try the tomato."

Of course, when I finally gave in to her badgering, I 'learned' what had already been apparent to me: tomatoes were gross.

Some foods, more interestingly, were one-day delights, preferred a couple times and then hated thereafter. Eggs, for example, were always a trial. A nice scramble was always accepted, at least for my youngest years, until I learned more about where eggs came from. After that, I swore I could taste the chicken embryos, and I didn't eat eggs for a good, long while. When I repented of my folly, fried eggs were the dish of the day, but only one way: cooked hard, with the yolk unbroken. That way, I could peel the egg white away and eat it, and leave the whole yolk on my plate to be disposed of or, more frequently, eaten by one of my parents.

For those of you who cook, you may know that this is a particularly difficult way to prepare eggs. Either the yolks stay runny and burst on the plate (bad), or they burst in the pan from heat and overhandling, and mingle inextricably with the white (worse). Dad claims it took him months of practice to figure out how to do it, and years to get really good… by which time I'd gone off eggs again, preferring a sweeter breakfast (probably for the energy boost it gave me. By the time 4th-6th grades rolled around, school was causing me to work up an intense appetite.)

Although I didn't have a very broad spectrum of preferred tastes, that didn't stop me wanting to experiment in the kitchen. Indeed, it was one of my favorite things to do! Unfortunately, I could rarely get an adult to allow it (partly because we, in our poverty, could not afford to waste ingredients. Partly because, again, due to poverty, everyone was just too damn exhausted to supervise something that potentially dangerous.) Instead, I usually ended up sneaking and doing it on my own, which invariably led to trauma of one kind or another.

One incident occurred one of the very first times my parents dubbed me old enough to stay home on my own while they went out to run errands. Having recently seen a news spot on dyed salt for those seeking to reduce their salt intake, I sought to replicate the stuff in my own kitchen. How hard could it be? I thought. Just add food coloring to salt.

Only, food coloring has water in it.

All the salt (and I do mean all the salt in the house) was now a dark blue-green color, and the texture of wet sand. I needed to dry it out! But I wasn't allowed to use the oven or stove unsupervised. What could I do?

I decided the best option was to microwave the salt. I spread it out on a large plate, and nuked it in batches until all the salt was dry. Unfortunately, for the first batch, I failed to realise how VERY FUCKING HOT the plate would be after several minutes spinning away in the microwave. I pulled it out barehanded, screeched in pain, and tossed the Perry-the-Platypus-colored salt all over the kitchen floor and microwave cabinet.

Not good. I was already beginning to worry about what my parents would think about all this business with the salt. Now I had a mess on my hands to boot. I tended to my (thankfully minor) burns, and then began swabbing the floor and cabinet with damp paper towels...

… which spread the food dye EVERYWHERE. Now the salt was teal, the floor was teal, the cabinet was teal, and I was teal.

And I had no idea when my parents would return!

I cleaned frantically, microwaving salt on the side the entire time. And somehow (perhaps Lot's wife was smiling upon me?) I got it all managed. My parents came home to a nice, clean kitchen (if you didn't see the small blue spots in the crevices at the very edge of one cabinet), and a calm, collected child (also slightly spotted, but only on the palms, easily hidden). Nothing of note occurred until dinner time.

"LAUREN!!"

Apparently, Dad did not like that all of his salt was turned 'blue'. My reasoning appeased his anger, but he was still pretty displeased. I was temporarily banned from using the microwave without permission. And they were far more cautious about leaving me alone, after that.

(These days, Dad frequently apologises for this. He says it was a creative and thoughtful act, and he shouldn't have gotten mad. I agree, but I'm also not mad anymore. The whole thing is rather funny in retrospect.)

A much more traumatic food event, much later, but still involving the microwave, was the first time I tried making microwave mac 'n cheese. It was around the inception of Easy Mac, so the idea was quite novel; it wasn't as if I had a backlog of knowledge on what not to do…

I followed the instructions exactly, with the single differing point of adding some dried parsley before cooking.

AND LET ME TELL YOU.

If you are going to add parsley to your Easy Mac, do it after cooking! Cooking amplifies and alters the flavor so that it tastes like you added some sort of cooked leafy vegetable, like spinach, except somewhat more like an inedible plant. The flavor permeates every nook and noodle, and even the cheese sauce can't mask it.

It was inedible. Beyond inedible; it was sensory overload of the worst kind.

And my parents, who had watched the whole thing, and warned me of putting anything in my food that I didn't 100% know would taste good, made me eat it.

At first, there was a screaming match, until I wore myself out with tears and begging. Then, I just sat there, defeated, thinking of ways I could get out of eating it. Maybe if I intentionally get choked on the food? Maybe if I shatter the glass of the coffee table, and then hurt myself with it? Something to make them care about something other than me eating this food. Anything to make them see how much eating the food was bad and wrong and how much it hurt me.

I was never, in my entire childhood, a willfully disobedient child. Well, small things, here or there, a child's innocent inability to self-regulate their impulses or understand the rules. Never did I knowingly and intentionally go against my parents' commands when I now feel like I had another real choice. But there were times, like these, when I didn't have a choice.

I ate three bites before my body rebelled and I threw up. Mom didn't follow through on her threat to make me eat the vomit and finish the food.

Instead, I got grounded for two weeks.

Incidentally, I've never gotten an apology for this little incident, despite it being the one I'm still angry over.

None of this is to say I was too picky to be fed, or that I ever went without (excepting that one night with the poison mac). If anything, I ate more than plenty in an attempt to offset the lacks in nutrition my pickiness inevitably led to. I'm sure that I was malnourished at times, despite eating more than my necessary share of calories.

And boy, was I aware of what that share was! My parents were and are avid yo-yo dieters, always on one plan or another to lose the weight they gained off a diet of poverty foods. All the while, frustrated by my pickiness, they fed me on breakfasts of whole packages of off-brand cinnamon rolls or apple turnovers. My lunch was usually whatever snack-foods I could convince the lunch ladies to sell me for the same price as a school lunch I wouldn't eat. With both parents either busy or exhausted, dinner was Taco Bell nearly every damn weekday.

It was inevitable that I would gain weight, with the genes, environment, and diet all inclined toward it. I was ten or eleven the first time my parents mentioned including me in one of their diet plans.

Not likely, I thought. I had long since decided that healthy food was gross, like school lunches and boiled vegetables and limp salads. And I wouldn't, couldn't cut my portions; not when I had to stay alert and concentrating while hauling all my books all around the school without a bookbag (which, after the Columbine shooting, had been banned at my school, lest we ten-year-olds have a place to conceal a weapon). I was already battling undiagnosed ADHD. I didn't need low blood sugar on top of it.

Still, if it gave them an incentive to buy more fresh fruit, I wasn't going to complain.

(And I didn't complain at all about any of their diets, until the one that consisted almost exclusively of boiled cabbage soup that stank the house to high heaven. I didn't even entertain joining them on that one.)

What it all added up to, though, was someone who, by the age of eleven, already had enormous issues with food and body image. And diet, for that matter, for we still hadn't found a healthy variety of foods that I would eat. By the time I was in high school, I was eating Cheetos and Little Debbies with Mountain Dew for lunch every weekday except Wednesday (chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes day in the cafeteria! Hell yeah!) I was also being (mildly) bullied for my weight.

Adulthood came after, with blessings and curses. When I moved out on my own, I had more opportunity (and income!) to explore what I liked culinarily. I got to employ the whole backlog of tips and tricks from cooking shows that I had watched for years. (At one point, during high school, I had wanted to become a chef. I gave up the idea when I realised how ill-suited I was to the job, but the education of the time stuck with me.)

I got to learn my favorite ways to cook food (pan fried, not baked. Baking unseasoned meat is not 'cooking', Dad.) I got to play with spices and flavors.

Or, I did for a while.

Very soon, my work at McDonald's caught up with me, and I found myself too tired to do much cooking. (Sorry, Dad! I understand, now!) More and more, my meals were eaten at work, from work. Over the next year, my stress increased, and my eating habits faltered along. And then, I began passing out at work.

Now, I needn't tell you this is a very dangerous situation, what with all the hot oil and ovens and lamps and such in a kitchen. I was sent home more than once, and it was becoming a danger not only to me, but to the state of my employment. I got in with a doctor as soon as I possibly could, and they determined that I had iron deficiency anemia.

No one was particularly surprised. I have a family history of the affliction, and I had basically been living off yogurt cups, Sausage Egg McMuffins, and chicken biscuits with cheese for months. My doctor suggested diet changes and high-dose iron supplements.

(One of these two turned my poop to black sin slime from a hell portal in my bowels. It was not the diet.)

Immediately, I switched over to a high-iron, high-protein, low-carb diet. And you know what? I felt fucking fantastic. I had energy for days, my mental acuity was improved, and my mood was better. I fell asleep faster and slept more soundly.

For three months, I kept it up. But then the financial burden became too much. Turns out, it's damn expensive to eat home-cooked meat every day when you're picky as hell. I was easily spending at least two to three times as much as I was when I was eating only fast food (on employee discount, admittedly). And soon, between the stress, the financial concerns, and my health problems, I had to move back in with my parents.

Honestly, I still haven't found peace with food and its place in my life. Coming to accept what my sensory needs mean for me has been difficult, and working around those needs in a productive way has been nearly impossible, especially with my other disabilities in tow. I feel that I'm learning to be kinder to my body emotionally speaking, but I could still be much kinder to it physically. 

If only I could figure out how.

I wish I could be that little kid who loved experimenting in the kitchen, again. But I'm not, and I can't. So I'll have to find another way to take care of me.

[abiteofnat]

AN ANXIETY-APPROVED GUIDE TO SOCIALLY-DISTANT  DINING IN THE NORTH SHORE

A headline I truly thought I would never write, because I used to be the type of person to leave work, jam myself into an L train packed with people, scroll through my phone while breathing in someone’s backpack, and then get to a busy restaurant to meet friends and dive into food without washing my hands. My entire immune system was chock-full of city scum, and eating indoors with dozens of other people who likely got off an equally full train? Not even a question of a doubt in my mind. Things took a quick and dire turn in May when suddenly I became afraid of everything and grossed out by anything, and after moving home with family I was certain I would never leave the house again. I miss being the fearless gutter rat I used to be, but times are different, and staying safe is key. 

Alas, while my family has been taking quarantine very seriously, we reached a point in August where we all felt “ok” with sitting at a restaurant once or twice a week to feel like we were still part of society and because we all mutually hate cooking. After not being at a restaurant once since March, we nervously ventured out to a local Italian restaurant, sat outside very far from others, and ate pasta that was still piping hot from the kitchen and that didn’t taste mediocre after sitting in a takeout container for an hour. It was refreshing as FUCK. Rose? In a real wine glass? Served chilled? What am I, a QUEEN? 

Ever since we have been carefully dining, only ever sitting outdoors, and carrying packs upon packs of antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizer like actual loons. But safe loons! Being home and enjoying the local restaurants through new eyes and new level of appreciation has made me love them 10x more, even if we’ve eaten somewhere a hundred times before. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to dine with these spots, eat favorite dishes & try new ones, and be out of the house for 1-2 hours on a Friday during these wild times. So, why not share some of my favorite spots?? Maybe you’re also living back in the good ole North Shore, and looking for any excitement at all in the quiet of the suburbs. Here you go. 

1. Mino’s Italian - Winnetka

This restaurant is newer to Winnetka, however it became an instant local favorite and is always, always full. They have a huge patio area with lighting, cozy wooden benches, tons of tables, heaters, and a menu packed with classic Italian dishes done so right. Their Calamari is unreal due to the seasoning and the roasted garlic aioli it comes with for dipping. Their Cacio e Pepe is magically light but still full of cheese and fresh cracked peppercorns, and the seasonal Risotto consists of warm mushroom richness. Their pizza is great to-go as well, and tastes like an NYC slice if you order the largest size. 

2. Pescadero - Wilmette 

Ok to be fair, Pescadero is not somewhere we’ve actually dined AT during the pandemic. We do pick it up quite often though, and it is some of the best carryout in Wilmette. The Fish & Chips is mouth-watering, with fresh fish covered in a seasoned batter that alone is delectable. Their chips (really more french fries) are thin, crispy, and topped with a parmesan and herb dust. DO NOT MISS OUT ON THE FRIES. The Mahi Mahi tacos are excellent and a lighter, fresher dish with broccoli apple slaw and avocado crema, and for fuck’s sake order a side of the Mac & Cheese just to stick a fork in. Pro Tip: You want as much extra tartar sauce as they will give you!!!

* Edit - since I wrote this post a few days ago, we ate on the Pescadero patio and it was delightful. Even though it was 55 degrees, the hot Clam Chowder and Fish & Chips warmed me up real quick. Clam Chowder served in a hot mug = a new fall dinner staple. Will only accept soup in a mug from now on. And, they do have heaters!

3. Depot Nuevo - Wilmette 

I have eaten here no fewer than 3,456 times in my life and every single time I feel like I’m on vacation because the vibes, the food, and the booze are immaculate. Located in an old train station turned restaurant, Depot Nuevo is warm and inviting no matter if you’re inside (pre pandemic) or on their gigantic patio that allows for spaced out and comfy seating. They’ve added heaters for the fall, so don’t worry about being chilly- and if you are, the Pomegranate Margarita will warm you right up. It’s strong, delicious, and comes in a very pleasing traditional margarita glass. I always order the Appetizer Trio as my entree, which has queso fundido (ordered without the chorizo!), guacamole, and ceviche composed of scallops, shrimp, and calamari with vegetables and lime. Usually this comes with tortilla chips as it’s meant to be shared, but I ask for corn tortillas instead and then pile a little of everything in there for the taco of my DREAMS. Do it. Order it. I dare you. 

The staff is exceptionally friendly and have taken COVID precautions seriously, so menus are disposable and everyone has gloves on. They will treat you like family, and they are family to us because we go there so often. See you on Friday, Depot! 

Other good things on the menu are the Fish Tacos, Shrimp Tacos, BBQ Salmon, Chipotle Mashed Potatoes, Cheese Quesadilla (smothered in their salsa verde of course). 

4. The Noodle - Wilmette

Can you tell downtown Wilmette is the place to be? It has truly popped off and the majority of restaurants aren’t serving up your typical “suburbs” food (you know- fried appetizers and burgers and weird salads and overpriced meat dishes) so I am always happy to be out in our little mini city. The Noodle is as classic Italian as you can get, with overflowing ceramic boats of buttery garlic bread, a salad OR soup included with your entree, and no bar- only wine (or beer) if you want a drinky drink. Incredible. I am partial to the house-made spinach linquine with Roasted Garlic and Sun-dried Tomatoes sauce, and the starter salad with house Creamy Garlic Parmesan dressing. Their Tomato Basil soup is also delicious, however I have some suspicion that that soup is the same as the Roasted Garlic and Sun-dried Tomatoes sauce... just served as soup... they refuse to confirm or deny whenever I ask. Either way, delicious. I tried a NEW DISH when we went last week to sit at one of the 6 large tables they have spaced out outside, and let me tell you that the bowtie pasta (not house-made) with Alfredo sauce is THE SHIT. It may be my new go-to when I just want to carbo-load the hecking out of my night. On your way out, get a Pot de Creme to go- it’s the richest, smoothest chocolate dessert on this side of town. 

5. Hometown Coffee & Juice - Glencoe 

Hometown deserves a round of applause for breathing life back into the stuffy grandmother of the North Shore - Glencoe. Between the gorgeous Writers Theatre and countless boutiques selling blouses and hand-blown glass jewelry, it used to only really serve a certain demographic, however Hometown said “let me give it a try” and changed weekends in Glencoe for good. This coffee shop, smoothie bar, bakery, & cafe hotspot is the perfect afternoon spot to grab a drink, enjoy avocado toast, and sit outside at one of the dozens of tables they’ve lined the corner and two streets with. They’ve moved their registers outside so you don’t even need to go inside to order, and the wait staff will bring you your order right to your table to make it as organized and safe as possible. The tables are spread out, the corner it’s located on is beautiful in the fall, and there are lots of good dogs out and about. 

I will say that while Hometown is doing a great job with COVID precautions, the people of Glencoe are a little high & mighty, and seem to think they’re exempt from wearing a mask to wait in line to get their smoothie. It’s irritating that they’re putting the staff at risk and just ignoring state mandates because they feel safe in their little North Shore bubble and because it’s entirely outside, but come on. Be respectful and understand the privilege of these places even being open to serve you, and just wear mask. I hate people. ANYWAY. Love you, Hometown. 

6. Coast Sushi - Evanston 

Ok, so this gem is not open for dining indoors OR outdoors, however they have their carryout system down and their sushi is so, SO fresh and good. I’ve picked up from here a few times and eat time I fall more in love with the flavors and how consistently tasty it is- and with sushi, it’s always a gamble if it’s going to be really good or kinda fishy and old. The Coast in South Loop was a favorite spot for a while, however it has shut down and I am so happy to be able to get my favorite rolls up in the burbs. My go-to order is a Spicy Tuna Maki, Spicy Scallop Maki, Spicy Miso Soup, a side of Spicy Mayo, and a side of Sushi Rice. This sounds odd, but hear me out- I like to mix the spicy mayo into the sushi rice and eat it just like that. It’s. So. Good. Am I gross? I might be gross. 

Anything you get from here is going to rock your socks off, so for your next night in (aka every night lol) treat yourself to some sushi, babbyyy! 

I sincerely hope that we can keep dining outside for at least a few more weeks, and I am absolutely ok with wearing Uggs and a full-on coat to be able to. Just a reminder to keep your mask on when talking to wait staff, be polite, be patient, and don’t be an asshole. You don’t NEED to dine out- it’s a treat- and you should treat it as such. Don’t be a Karen, or don’t leave your house. Those are literally the only two options.

I hope you try somewhere new, whether it’s carryout or dining out, and tell me if you have any favorite North Shore spots I missed! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

- Natalie

[airlock]

so, folks, having put a great deal of time into staring at the dining hall menu on Fire Emblem: Three houses, I decided to attempt a fun little exercise: what if I set about putting together a list of what my dislikes, neutrals and likes from the list would be if I were attending Garreg Mach?

and see... due to my presently undiagnosed neurodivergence, I have a hypersensitive palate, as well as a hypersensitivity to textures. I have been described by sufficiently rude people as “difficult to feed”. if y’all have seen and remember that one post where you tally up everything you would eat and get a higher score the less of a picky eater you are, well, I scored like a two or a four on that. so, y’know... this is going to be fun y’all

The Wretched Food Sins (dislikes)

Beast Meat Teppanyaki, Pickled Rabbit Skewers, Gronder Meat Skewers, Garreg Mach Meat Pie

see, I’m just going to get this one out of the way immediately: I don’t like red meat. when I tell people that, their first assumption is usually that I’m a vegan or avoiding the shitload of growth hormones or whatever, but no, I still eat some other types of meat and health is obviously not a priority in my diet; I just find that red meat tastes and feels something awful. we clear? we clear.

Onion Gratin Soup

(Onions stewed with white trout and baked with a layer of cheese on top. Will warm you up from the inside out.)

onions I’m also not very fond of. when they’re used for flavor, they’re normally used in small enough amounts to be safely ignored, but here it seems that the idea is to eat whole baked onions off a soup, like... is that a thing that human people do with the single lives that they have??

Country-Style Red Turnip Plate

(A balanced meal including red turnip and verona stew, red turnip salad, and sautéed red turnip with garlic.)

just not sure about this one; I mean, it’s not that I actually recall ever eating a turnip, or that a “verona” is a real vegetable that I can compare to any extant thing... I just don’t think I’ve ever had a good time attempting to eat a plateful of vegetables and I don’t have much faith that the monastery cantina is breaking new ground there

Vegetable Stir-Fry

(A dish of dried tomatoes, cabbage, chickpeas and other vegetables, stir-fried with egg. Nutritious and very filling.)

I might just be mixing up terms, but if I understand correctly, I’ve never heard of stir-frying before. it sounds like a cool thing, though! I do love the the idea of using egg as a base for this, too! it’s a pity that they then proceed to pick nothing but ass ingredients for the entire rest of this particular recipe

Fish and Bean Soup

(A soup made by simmering white trout and chickpeas. A simple yet wholesome dish.)

sorry, head chef, beans are a horrific mouthfeel and you cannot and will not convince me that a dish featuring them is uwu wholesome

Pickled Seafood and Vegetables

(A Dagdan dish of raw fish and turns pickled in a vinegar-based seasoning liquid. Rarely eaten in Fódlan.)

so, I’ve actually had the idea for this post quite a ways ago, and one of the very first things I had in mind was the precise burn I was going to deliver unto the smell of vinegar. right? thing is, it’s been so long since then that the anedocte I was going to use as a delivery vector for that burn has since taken a dark turn. it won’t really be worth the while to unpack it at this point, so I’ll just skip to the punchline: the smell of vinegar is indistinguishable from the smell of dog piss

Cabbage and Herring Stew

(Cabbage and Albinean Herring stewed whole. The fish guts lend this hearty dish a superbly bitter kick.)

ew, what the hell? what sort of florida man recipe is this? “oh, let’s stew some fish, but make sure the entirety of its intestines are stewing in there so that the final product can punch you in the mouth with bitterness”. what? who’s that supposed to appeal to? I can understand this being one of Hubert’s favorite meals but why would absolutely anyone else do this to themselves? and it’s with this demon fodder here that we finish the hell section on an absolutely burning note and proceed to...

The Purgatory of Eh, I Guess, Maybe (neutral)

Pheasant Roast with Berry Sauce

(Well-roasted Fódlan pheasant drizzled with a berry reduction sauce.)

we’re getting somewhere; poultry is like, 80% of the protein in my diet, and sweetness is precisely the only flavor I can tolerate in major excess. alas, in gastronomy, one plus one doesn’t always make two; I’m not sure this combination here works or just clashes frontally

Vegetable Pasta Salad

(Pasta with a blend of fresh vegetables from various regions of Fódlan. This popular dish sells out almost instantly.)

we’re out of the hated food list, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe yet from listening to me maw about foods that are supposed to be super common!

you know how I prefer to take my pasta? over water, butter or olive oil with absolutely no sauce. additional seasoning also needs not apply, although salt is welcome. fun fact: my ideal instant noodle is cooked with only a small amount of flavoring powder. so yeah, there you have it, that’s the “hey guys I eat bread with nothing in it and have a good time” moment of the jour

but back to the point -- how does this particular pasta measure up? well, I took a look at the in-game model of it and it appears to pass the most important bar: no sauce -- or, at least, if there was any, it was thick and yellow and it made a fool of me. anyways, I might not particularly dig some of the vegetables thrust into the pasta here, but the beauty of it is that I can probably pick and choose which ones I will actually eat, which makes this a solid ehhh it’s solvable

Fruit and Herring Tart

(A baked tart with stewed herring and Noa fruit mixed into the batter. Popular in Enbarr, the Imperial Capital.)

again, I don’t object to the components but I’m not sure about it all adds together. is that a real thing, like, putting a god damn fish into your fruit pie mix?

Fish Sandwich

(A simple dish. Airmid Cabbage is pickled in vinegar and served with cabbage between two slices of bread.)

a fish sandwich plain and simple, I would happily chow down; fish is the other one of my acceptable meats, after all. thing is, as non-domestic sandwiches usually do, this one comes with a bunch of add-ons that I absolutely do not want and it’s hard to tell how much can be salvaged. like, there’s old man vinegar/piss again, and besides, I swear I’ve eaten leaves off the ground that had better texture than cabbage. so, like, can we go even simpler, head chef? bread, fish, and no wicked ideas?

Spicy Fish and Turnip Stew

(Spicy stew made with Teutates loach and turnips. The monastery’s unique recipe features spices from Dagda.)

come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a stew. if it’s very much like a soup, then it might have as much of an annoying texture as one, but if it’s just a soggy filet, then that might work out. anyway, between that and the non-specification of what those spices from Dagda are intended to do with the recipe, I’d have to taste it to believe it

Super-Spicy Fish Dango

(A light snack, popular in the Empire. Small, spicy balls of fried dough packed with white trout and dried tomato.)

ugh, that was so close. fried dough and fish sounds AMAZING, it really does. but the first strike here is “super-spicy”; I did mention having a hypersensitive palate, yes? now add that to the fact that I’m white. the real crushing sin here, however, is the inclusion of fucking tomato. we were so close to greatness! we were this close! anyways, depending on how exactly the dried tomato is meant to be implemented here, it might be possible to just pull it out with a fork and accept the mouth-hurting substances in a bid to have a good time anyway

Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté

(Whitefish is coated in spices and sautéed with dried tomatoes to bring out an addictive salty-sweet flavor.)

tomatoes again! seriously, you creeps keep throwing that in with one of my sole acceptable approaches to meat! although fortunately, I gather that, with this one, the goal is not for the tomatoes to be eaten, just popped on the juice that this fish is jumping around in while it roasts, so maybe there’s salvation for it yet... I do want to find out whatever in the world an “addictive salty-sweet flavor” is supposed to mean, admittedly

Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs

(Thin slices of bird meat and shredded cabbage, mixed with scrambled eggs and sautéed with spices. Invention of a certain noble.)

again, we broke it right at the finish line. I like the idea of a pile of chicken strips and scrambled eggs; would have some fun digging through it and all. alas, Alfred von Certain Noble had to go and throw cabbage into the mix. at least, maybe, if it’s shredded, then the awful texture is eliminated and that makes it straight-up just eating some leaf? it might be sufficiently non-intrusive

Gautier Cheese Gratin

(A gratin of bird meat topped with heaps of Gautier cheese, which is famous for its low fat content. It has a unique flavor.)

I... do I want to know what “unique flavor” this is? because chicken gratined with cheese sounds good, but you could potentially go wrong with the type of cheese, and the fact that this apparently counts as a bitter dish doesn’t leave me particularly hopeful...

Small Fish Skewers

(Made by grilling skewered Airmid gobies. With a muddy flavor and dry texture, this dish is beloved by few.)

okay, yeah, “muddy flavor and dry texture” isn’t exactly the sales pitch of the year, but these sound like reasonably ignorable things in favor of what would just be grilled fish on a skewer with no more of those terrible nonsense ideas like adding some fucking tomato

Fried Crayfish

(Fried and breaded Caledonian crayfish. Looks much tastier than it actually is.)

looks are all we have to go by here, but besides that, intsys, you’ll have a lot of labor to do if you want to convince me that a fried and breaded anything isn’t good if it’s not, like, inherently ass as an ingredient. what keeps this one from reaching the heavens is most likely not the taste or the feel itself, but mostly just the fact that I’m probably allergic to shrimp

The Blessed And Divine (likes)

Saghert and Cream

(A baked confection coated with Noa fruit cream and a currant reduction, often enjoyed as a dessert at family gatherings.)

first, I have to get this much out of the way: does anyone know what the hell a saghert even is? cursory searching has only led me to results about Fire Emblem, so it might be a made-up word altogether...

... that said, the aforementioned cursory searching has also brought me to this blog where I got to see someone’s idea of what the thing would be in real life, and the result is definitely something I’d want in my mouth, stomach, and soul, so there we go!

Sweet Bun Trio

(Traditional pastries from Faerghus, known for their subtle sweetness. The dough is made with eggs and sugar.)

is this supposed to be like sweetbread or like, dumplings, which might actually be made with eggs and sugar...? oh, who am I kidding, I’d scarf the hell out of either one. and hey, no need to be subtle with the sweetness, either!

Peach Sorbet

(A sorbet made with thin slides of magically frozen peach, dusted with bean flour.)

o, ice cream... I have a rather layered relationship with that one. I’m never one to turn down plain desserts, least of all when tradition also permits me to dump six layers of whatever the hell else to (sweetly) spice it up, but the hypersensitivity in my mouth also extends to temperatures, and ice cream is normally and understandably served in very low ones. I usually try eating when it’s, like, nearly melting or already melting... but is that even on the table if we’re talking about pre-refrigeration ice cream made with very strangely applied magic? thoughts to mull over. but I won’t let them get in the way of yum, ice cream

Daphnel Stew

(Minced poultry and onions boiled with salt. The simple recipe lets high-quality ingredients speak for themselves.)

simplicity goes a long way, as usual! again, I have no idea how a stew tastes, but again, poultry is pretty much the backbone of my diet, and I suppose it doesn’t sound objectionable to take it soaked in saltwater. at least, if I’m presuming that the onions are there for flavoring the stock and not once more for the absurd suggestion that I should be eating them whole

Deirdriu-Style Fried Pheasant

(Pheasant meat pounded flat and fried. Can be served as a sort of sandwich, with cheese between two strips of meat.)

holy shit this sounds great. like, I want this in real life, especially the whole pseudo-sandwich arrangement. I’m optimistically assuming that we’re picking a decent type of cheese and not, like, cheddar, but that's really the only possible stumbling block

Grilled Herring

(Herring caught off the coast of Albinea, shredded and grilled in an earthenware pot with sliced turnips.)

I’ve expressed not being familiar with the taste of turnips, but even if I hate those too, it sounds like it’s pretty easy to ignore them here in favor of what’s just some shredded and grilled fish, which hits the spot

Fisherman’s Bounty

(Freshly-caught fish are cut into chunks and stewed together to make this hearty dish.)

right, so I’m not actually 100% sure about this one, if only because the model of the dish appears to contain some unidentifiable bits of disgusting red whatever, but if the description alone covers it, this just seems to be plain and nice

Two-Fish Sauté

(Two types of fish are cut into strips and sautéed in butter. This lavish meal hails from Enbarr, the Imperial Capital.)

and this sounds similarly plain and nice, but also even better, because the sautéeing in butter sounds like a great addition. now we’re finally on the right track with regards to fish meals! keep the red devil testicle fruits away from those!

Bourgeois Pike

(A gourmet dish with Airmid Pike, vegetables, and a sprinkle of expensive spices. Popular among nobles.)

the punchline writes itself, doesn’t it? but don’t get me wrong -- while I haven’t grown up wanting for money, being bourgeoisie is just what my family wishes were the case.

as for the meal itself: the in-game model appears to be just fish filet, served without any gross sauce, so I’ll happily take it, as long as this “sprinkle of expensive spices” isn’t doing anything too janky in there. ... but hey, most expensive things exist primarily for the purpose of being janky, so maybe I’m being too optimistic

Sautéed Jerky

(Jerky aged in the monastery and sautéed for a delightfully salty flavor. A perfect snack to go with your favorite drink.)

my first instinct was to throw this right onto the undesirable meat section because it’s jerky, but apparently, this is poultry jerky? I’ve never heard of such a thing existing, but I need to try it sometime. for now, I’ll just assume it’s as good as it sounds

so, there you have it! it seems that quite a bit more of this menu is edible than I would have expected? or perhaps I’m just being very optimistic, since I’m not face-to-face with whatever offputting smells and textures I could potentially be dealing with here

[turn-your-gaze-on-this-dumptruck]

His Past, His Present, His Future: Chapter 6 - Wine

Sorry for the pause between uploads. I’ve been moving, and between that and college I have had zero spare time. 

After a difficult conversation, Germany and Italy make dinner. This chapter is basically just domestic fluff.

Ao3

Fanfiction.net

**********************

The two worked in the kitchen, Italy insisting on making home-made… soup? Broth? As Germany boiled the noodles. He was content to just watch Italy chop and stir and simmer from his seat on a bar stool opposite of him. Other than boiling pasta, there was nothing for him to do. They talked about things that didn’t matter, reminiscing on Halloween parties and Christmas celebrations. Italy introduced the idea that he should host a holiday sometime. Perhaps Easter.

Germany nodded. “It’s nice here in the spring.”

Italy looked up from his work, brushing hair out of his face and behind his ear. “Yes. The flowers in my garden just start to bloom, and it smells so nice! It’s the kind of weather that makes you want to go on a walk and enjoy life, you know?” Though his words were deceptively bright, Germany had noted the fact that Italy had been averting his gaze the entire evening. 

Germany smiled slightly, hoping to reassure him. “It would be good to have everyone here.”

Italy peered through his lashes at Germany. “Even America?”

“Hmm, maybe not him.” Germany joked, standing to stir the pasta.

“Oh, I know you have a soft spot for him.” Italy protested, dumping the cutting board into the sink. “Care to wash this for me?”

Germany stepped over and started the water, waiting for it to heat up. The kitchen was starting to smell of spices. “I don’t have a soft spot for him.”

Italy smiled, lightly pushing into Germany’s ribs with his elbow as he walked past him. “Sure.” Germany returned the smile. It seemed that now that the touch barrier has been broken, things were finally less tense.

The conversation faded as Germany enjoyed the warm kitchen, the tile underneath his socked feet, and Italy’s quiet humming. It was serene and peaceful. He gazed out the window facing Italy’s back garden, noting that Italy had strung up strands of round lights through the branches of the trees, barely visible against the searing light of the sunset against the clouds.

“I think Japan is in love with him.”

Germany blinked, shocked by Italy’s idea. “Really?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He began scrubbing at the cutting board.

“Mm-hmm!”

Germany towel-dried it and strode over to Italy. “I don’t believe you. Where does this go?” He lifted the cutting board up slightly.

Italy pointed to a narrow cupboard as he stirred the pasta sauce. “There. Have you seen how they interact?”

“Yes.” Germany raised a single eyebrow as he put up the cupboard. “They talk as friends.” He opened the fridge and peered into the cheese drawer. “You have no parmesan.”

Italy set his spoon on a spoon rest and walked over. “How did I run out of parmesan?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you ate it all.”

Germany looked over as Italy plucked a note from the door.

Italy read the note in Italian. “I got the last of the Parmesan. The Potato Bastard will take you to a farmer's market and you'll have to get more. Romano.”

“Romano took it?” Germany asked, surprised. “He must have stole it while I was back in your office.”

Italy shook his head with a fond smile, too distracted to question why Germany was back there in the first place. “He’s sneaky when he wants to be. He wants you to take me to a farmer’s market to get more.”

Germany hummed. “I’m sure we can find one over the next couple days.”

“That would be fun!” Italy agreed, stuffing the note in his pocket.

“So you were saying?” Germany asked, shutting the fridge door. “About Japan and America?”

“Oh, so you’re interested?” Italy asked with a grin, untying his apron and hanging it on a magnetized hook on the fridge.

Germany felt his cheeks heat up. “I just want to know how Japan is doing. It’s what friends do.”

Italy quirked an eyebrow. “Mm-hmm... have you ever noticed that when America walks in, Japan is one of the first to notice? He always seems to have time to watch a scary movie with him, no matter what he has going on.”

“That’s a friend thing.” Germany protested. “I do the same for you.” Despite the neutral tone of his voice, he felt shaky. Sure, he did the same thing, but what he felt for Italy was beyond friendship.

“Well yes,” Italy allowed. “But is Japan really the type? You’re really affectionate. He’s not.”

“I’m not affectionate!” Germany protested loudly.

Italy turned off the burner to the pasta and carried it over to the strainer. Germany hadn’t even realized he’d forgotten about it. “Sure you are! Everyone’s affectionate in their own way. Like when you remind me to grab an umbrella when it rains, or when you taught me how to throw a hand grenade, or how sometimes when I fall asleep on the couch you carry me to bed!”

Germany grunted. “All that is just human decency.” He determinedly ignored the other man as he pulled two bowls from the cupboard.

“You are affectionate in your actions. Not in words.” Italy continued, carrying the strainer back to the stove and dumping the pasta into the liquid in the pot. He stirred the contents and sniffed, sighing. “So is Japan. But he is less open about it. He is antisocial and often doesn’t enjoy going to other people’s houses, but he goes to America’s more frequently than anyone’s. More frequent than yours and ours, even!”

Germany considered this, grabbing two spoons. “Suppose you were somehow right. What about America?”

“What does he always say? His catchphrase, maybe?”

“... ‘I’m hungry’?”

Italy laughed. “Other than that.”

“Well, he always refers to himself as a hero.” Germany answered, carrying the dishes to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

Italy tipped the pot over, pouring the soup into a serving bowl. “Wine, please.”

“What kind?” Germany grabbed two wine glasses.

“Hmm... how about the Masseto Toscana? It should go well with the soup.”

Germany crouched by the wine rack, his eyebrows furrowed. He started pulling the bottles out one by one, examining the labels. “Why is him calling himself a hero relevant?”

Italy carried the bowl over to the table. “Because he cares a lot about his self image, right?”

Germany growled to himself as he pulled the third bottle of wine off the rack. “So?”

“Why would he call Japan over to watch scary movies constantly if it made him look like a coward?”

Germany prayed for the sweet release of death as he pulled the sixth bottle of wine halfway off the rack before noticing that the label was wrong.

Italy crouched next to him and considered the wine rack for a moment before removing a bottle from the bottom row. “Perhaps because America wants an excuse for Japan to come over.”

Straightening along with Italy, he grunted an affirmation.

“You think I’m right?” Italy asked, delightedly beaming as he noticed Germany had nothing to say.

“Nein.” Germany answered, making his way to the table. “I just can’t believe this conversation is actually starting to make logical sense.” He took a seat.

Italy shook his head, also sitting. “You just wait, Germany. Watch them spend time together and you’ll have to believe me!”

Germany grunted, ladleing soup into his bowl. “Not likely. What is this you’ve made?”

Italy let the conversation slide. “Pasta e Fagioli!” He proclaimed, popping the cork of the wine and pouring himself half a glass. He offered his hand for Germany’s glass.

Germany passed it. He always preferred a cold beer to anything else, but it wasn’t like he hated wine. “Sounds good.” He accepted his glass and took a bite of the soup, the warmth seeping through his entire being and soothing all the emotional ache of the day.

“It’s good?” Italy asked.

Germany realized his eyes had closed as he opened them. “It’s wunderbare.”

“Great!” Italy’s entire being seemed to brighten at his words.

“I was thinking about what we could do tomorrow. It has been so long since I’ve taken time to tour your country. I was thinking we could walk around Rome.”

Italy laughed, taking a sip of wine. “If you want to see what has changed here, Rome isn’t the best place to do it, Germany, everything is so old!”

Germany hummed. “Perhaps. I just remember we had a good time there.”

“Aww, Germany, that’s so sweet!”

“Germany attempted to hide his embarassment by tilting his wine glass upward and taking a sip.

“How is it?” Italy asked.

Germany tried to think of something intelligent to say. He knew that Italy was something of a wine efficianado. “It... tastes like wine. Good wine. It tastes good.”

Italy smiled like he was trying to hold in laughter. “I hope so, I have been saving it for a special occasion!”

“What special occasion?” Germany hoped Italy didn’t intend to mention the discoveries of today. That was the last thing he wanted to think about.

Italy raised his wine glass in a toast. “Your first vacation since 1990!”

Germany raised his glass, smiling. The two clinked their glasses.

“This wine was bottled that same year, you know.” Italy quipped. “Very convenient! Almost like it was meant to be!”

“We took that vacation in Turkey, yes?” Germany asked, taking another sip of wine. It was starting to grow on him.

Italy nodded. “Yes! Your latest vacation and it is with me almost three decades later... if that isn’t a reason to open up a 2,000 euro bottle of wine, I don’t know what is!”

Germany choked on his drink. He coughed and hacked, bending forward on the table as the worst of the coughs passed.

“Are you okay?” Italy asked.

“What the hell?!” He cursed in German.

“Gesundheit.” Italy offered.

Germany stared at the glass sitting on the table, wondering how much money he had drank in the two sips he had. “This wine was 2,000 euros?!”

Italy shrugged. “Well it was actually around 2,300, but... I’m not really particular about that sort of thing.”

“Jesus Christ.” Germany gasped.

“Well if you’re religious, yes!”

Germany squinted confusedly at the man sitting opposite of him.

“Get it? Wine? Blood of Christ?” Italy tried, stirring his soup. “It’s a Catholic joke.”

Germany lay his forehead in his palm. “My God, Italy.”

“Actually, he’s my God unless you’re Cath-”

“Italy!”

Germany lay in bed a few hours later, his hair still slightly damp from his shower. He allowed it to hang over his forehead and brush his eyebrows as he stared at the wall. Italy’s guest room had always been beautiful, what with the four poster bed and the glass double doors that lead to a balcony. The moon was half full tonight, allowing a soft blue light to spill into the room. What exactly had happened today? Well, he knew what happened. But it was just so much to process. How do you process learning that the past you thought you had wasn’t even half of your life? That you had an entire past that you didn’t even remember? That you died and somehow miraculously came back to life? It was all so much. There was really nothing he could do for that except give himself time to acclimate himself to this feeling. To this desire to learn about himself.

He realized that he was so busy worrying about all that that he had barely taken the time to consider what this meant for Italy. For him. For the both of them, maybe. They used to be... together? Maybe? Did that even count? Here Germany thought he had never even had his first kiss when he had it with Italy of all people. And Italy... he’d loved him too, once. That was the worst part. That in the past he had what was perhaps his greatest desire and he couldn’t even remember it. And beside that was the question of if Italy was even his friend because he was Germany. Did Italy stick around for who he was now, or for a ghost of someone Germany didn’t even know? Of someone he didn’t even remember? The question had been gnawing at his thoughts all day. A dull ache in the back of his mind as he joked around with Italy and spent the rest of the day in what could have been considered a domestic atmosphere. He sighed aloud and turned onto his back. It was then that he saw a shadow in the doorway.

“Germany?” It said.

Germany sat up in his bed, allowing the covers to fall off his shoulders and into his lap. “Italy.” He rubbed his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Italy stepped forward into the moonlight, his tan skin unusually pale in the blue light. He wore a T-shirt that was slightly too large for him over a pair of boxers. His hair was tousled, but Germany figured that was from tossing and turning more than anything else. “No.”

Germany nodded. “Me neither.”

Italy’s right hand crossed over his body and gripped his left wrist sheepishly. “... Would you mind if I shared your bed with you tonight?”

Uh-oh. “At least you actually asked this time.” Germany sighed, scooching over and pulling the covers back for him. “It beats you sneaking in while I’m sleeping.”

Italy smiled, his shy air disappearing entirely. “Yes! Thank you, Germany!”

Germany lay back down, glad for the darkness as it shielded Italy from the glowing blush on his cheeks. “Ja ja, just try not to take all the covers this time.”

“I will. Thank you, Germany.”

Silence reigned as Germany turned on his side, his back facing Italy. He shut his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep. Minutes passed and he didn’t get any more tired.

“Something is wrong.” It wasn’t a question.

Germany didn’t even turn his head. “No.”

The weight on the bed shifted as Italy turned to face Germany, propping himself up on his elbow. “You’re lying. I said earlier I would answer all your questions, remember?”

“I said there was nothing wrong, and there is nothing wrong.” Germany snapped. “Why can’t you just listen?”

“Do you remember when we became friends?”

Germany furrowed his brows. He wondered if Italy had figured out what was bothering him. “Unfortunately.”

“I say a lot of things, Germany. I love to talk! But I remember something I said that day. I said that we could protect each other, and I would disappoint you! It was a promise I made when we formed our alliance!”

“You realize that was not in the formal agree-”

“-Point being,” Italy interrupted. “It was a promise I made when we formed our alliance. Our friendship! So when I don’t listen to what you say, I am only making good on my promise.”

Germany turned over at this, fixating his beady glare on Italy.

He was smiling uncaringly, like Germany had just offered to tell him a joke. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

Germany contemplated what he said, wondering if he should even bother. How would it look if he asked Italy that question? Would that make things weird? Worst of all, what if Italy had befriended Germany because he was Holy Rome before? What then? “It really isn’t a big deal.”

“It is to me.” Italy said. He delivered it like his words had no weight. Like it wasn’t the very thing Germany needed to hear most.

Germany sighed and faced the ceiling again. He tried to speak as though he weren’t contemplating this all day. “When you found me, did you just want to become my friend to see if I was Holy Rome?”

There was only the briefest pause.

“Germany, do you really think that?” Italy asked, his voice heavy.

Germany frowned, not tearing his gaze away from the ceiling. “I don’t know. I was just wondering.”

“No!” Italy protested, shaking his head furiously. “Not at all! I only started suspecting it after World War Two!”

Germany finally looked at Italy. “Really?”

“Of course! I thought you just looked like him! The same way that Canada looks like America, or like Sealand looks like a gremlin! Before I was an investigator, Germany, I was your friend. First and foremost, always and forever!”

Germany felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders. “Oh. That’s good.” He said.

Italy lay down and faced him, his brown eyes gazing cautiously into his blue. His mouth split into a smile. “What do you want to do in Rome tomorrow?”

“Mm... we have to see the colloseum for sure.” Germany answered, fully aware that Italy was trying to distract him.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been seen it.” Italy reminisced.

“How long?”

Italy frowned, thinking.

Germany noticed Italy’s eyes were half closed, weighed down by exhaustion.

“Probably... actually, I don’t think I’ve been there since it was still an actual arena...”

“How long ago was that?” Germany asked, slightly shocked.

“Mm...” Italy yawned. “I don’t know. It’s too late to think.”

The corners of Germany’s mouth lifted as Italy’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Good night, Germany.”

“Good night, Italy.” Germany let his eyes close as well, immediately sinking into a heavy and merciful sleep.

[faintblueivy]

Let Me Love You - Borusara Fanfiction

Helloooo lovelies! With exams out of the way I can finally write! So here's the next chapter of LMLY! The story is simply spiralling out of my control to be honest but I really hope it's going to be a fun ride for you all!

Thanks to @deviswriting for beta reading!

Chapter 1 - A perfect Break

Chapter 2

False Smiles

“You should stop spoiling him.”

Sarada looks up at the man in front of her and notices how Shikadai's normally lazy green eyes appear to be quite stern at that very moment. Flashing angrily.

“He wanted to go.” Sarada says as nonchalantly as possible, eyes fixed on the file, wanting to prevent any kind of confrontations.

Shikadai rolls his eyes at her response, “Of course he did. But you should know better than that. He is not a kid, so stop treating him like one.”

There was a tense beat of silence before Sarada raised her head, looking him square in the eye.

“Look Shikadai, you know him better than most people here. He is responsible when the time calls for it.” She never averts her gaze from his eyes, her voice defiant.

“He should be, it's his job anyway.” He says, shrugging.

“You talk as if he wanted this.” Sarada scoffs, but immediately regrets her own words at the pained look in his eyes.

What was I thinking? Shikadai knows everything, already. He was there to witness it. Heck, he was a part of it.

Sarada's inner monologue was cut short when he speaks in a voice so small, that if not for the silence in the room, she might have missed it.

“I know.” He stops, taking a moment to clear his throat and then starts, “Look, I just want him to be happy and accept things. What gone is gone. He needs to look forward.”

Sarada nods her head, because she understands that his intentions for Boruto were correct.

Clinging to the past which is impossible now will not do him any good.

She understands.

She does.

But yet.

Shikadai bids her a farewell and leaving Sarada alone with her swirling thoughts. She grazes her teeth against her lower lip and pulls another file out of his stack to continue on. The documents prove to be a good distraction because by the time only a quarter of the files are left, the office was already empty.

She jumps when the door to her office is slammed open and an angry Boruto flies in.

“What are you still doing here?”

She tilts her head at his messy look but decides not to comment.

“Working?”

He raises his eyebrows at her answer, “Did it appear to you even once that there is a thing called 'Watch’ exists?”

She narrows her eyes at him and then flicks her gaze at her wrist.

9:17

It displays.

Oh.

Oh.

“At what time does the Office hours end?”

She stares at her lap, feeling sheepish.

“Six.”

“Glad to know that at least you remember that.”

He scoffs, appearing behind her and leaning over. He quickly saves the opened document and shuts off her laptop. The feeling of his warm chest brushing against her back made her feel oddly weird. She wants to blame it on her exhaustion but something in the back of her mind clearly declares it as an excuse.

Then his lips quirk up into an easy smile. He sweeps up the rest of the unfinished files and gathers all her stuff which he could hold at once.

“Come on! Let's go home, Kay?”

…

The ride to home was quite silent. Sarada simply decided to spend it staring out of the window. Despite Boruto's love for rock and metal music, the player was turned off. Her dark eyes were fixed on calmly assessing the scenery when she remembers something important.

“Boruto?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we stop by a convenience store? I think we are in dire need of some groceries.”

“Alright.”

And in no time, Boruto pulls up the car to the closest shop and she steps out in the cool air of the night. The sudden blast of cold air makes her shiver.

“I don't think that any of us is in any mood for cooking. Should I get us some Chinese?”

He asks, stepping out of the car as well, jerking his thumb at the small Chinese restaurant just over the other side of the road. She eyes the small building for a moment before nodding her head in consent and watches him skip away.

…

The basket weighing on her elbow was already half filled. With bread. Jam and butter. Veggies. She picks up a large packet of fusilli pasta and another packet of instant noodles. Four cups of ramen as well. A bottle of espresso powder is dropped in the basket as well. Next was mixed herbs and of course, Cheese. She didn't like tomatoes but she was a grown up now...so yeah? And of course! Chocolates!!! And a packet of frozen patties? And some burger buns. They were Boruto's comfort food, just like hers was chocolate. Oh yeah...a small bottle of tabasco sauce. Because Boruto likes his food spicy.

Sarada doesn't notice...how her grocery consists of half of Boruto's as well. It's always been like this. The mental list in her head is always a combination of hers and his together. She doesn't want to think about how intertwined their lives are together with each other's. It's a subconscious thought. Never an active debacle. Just a concern nagging somewhere in the back of her mind. Something she does not have the courage to address.

Finally with a basket full of groceries she approaches the counter where a young boy smiles at her (she realises he's new) and he quickly calculates the cost of the items and bags them immediately. She pays her bill and leaves the shop instantly.

Boruto is already back by the time she is near the car. He was leaning against the side and staring at large soccer field - a playground, in front of them. His bright blue orbs looked dull and tired.

Sarada felt something bitter lodge in her throat at the scene.

The wistfulness and regret clouding Boruto's eyes and the longing betraying his face was painful to watch.

He didn't deserve it. A small mistake shouldn't have ever led to this.

Sarada composes herself, taking a deep breath and asks, “You okay?”

“Yes! Of course! Why wouldn't I be?”

He replies without missing a beat and tries to put on that customary smile of his. And Sarada wonders if he actually believes he could fool her with that. But she decides that it's not worth commenting. Not now, anyways.

They step in the car as she drops her bags on the passenger seats behind. A large brown paper bag is there as well. The slight sour and saucy aroma is inviting and she feels her stomach twisting in hunger.

The sound of the engine reviving is loud and cuts through the air like a sharpnel trying to bury itself in her chest. She sneaks a glance at him again and of course, there it is. That hollow look.

“Um,” she begins and then continues hesitantly, “How was the game?”

And instantly, his eyes flicker with life.

“Oh! It was good! They did well, you know!”

He looks proud and she cannot help but let a smile decorate her face over it. And then he grimaces lightly.

“Matsumoto got a yellow card though! It was a good thing that Yuuma was there to step in before things escalated! That brat needs to learn to control his temper, you know!”

She observes how animatedly he talks about this subject, how wide and expressive his gestures are, how bright his eyes look and how more often he smiles. But then he turns to her and says proudly, sagely.

“The old and wise have said - discipline is the key.”

A loud snort escapes despite her resistance and she's met with a glare.

“Hey stop laughing Sarada!”

“Discipline? My foot! As if you're the one to talk!”

She points her finger accusingly at him and he doesn't obviously look happy with it.

“Oh please? Be careful with that finger of yours, at least tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Why would I do that?”

She asks haughtily with her brows raised up. And he turns to give her a grave look.

“The match ended at eight, you know? All the brats left by eight-thirty. I was home by eight-forty five.”

It takes a moment for Sarada's tired brain to process before she screams incredulously.

“You came back to office all the way just to take me home?!”

He looked at her as she was being the silly one here.

“Duh. Obviously? What was I supposed to do? Let you sleep there? All hungry and starving? Guess what miss? I'm not that heartless.”

Not knowing how to respond to him and the warmth creeping up her neck and painting her cheeks pink is so overwhelming that she turns her head to the side, willing her bangs to hide it.

A chuckle that fills the silence makes her aware that her small endeavour was actually futile. But for some reason it makes her grin even larger.

By the time they reach home, all those silences between them turn into smiles. They sweep up all the stuff from back seats and head inside the apartment.

Their apartment is not extremely large but very sufficient for two people. Consisting of two bedrooms, a kitchen, and one hall and also another tiny room which worked as a study for both of them. They had it all furnished and complete with necessary comforts. It was a small cozy space, just perfect for them. Their personal sanctuary. Where they could be normal adults. With their hobbies and weird interests and no one to look up to them as the leaders of a multi billionaire companies. No one to judge. No one to impress. Just them. And all that space in between.

The dinner is quite a small affair. And the Chinese was surprisingly good. And the loud slurping and laughter between them fills the empty silence of the house.

It makes this place home.

The chores of the house have been divided day wise. But today they both stand are doing the dishes, Boruto is washing them and Sarada is drying the utensils.

“So, what major happened after I left?”

Sarada quietly wipes off the spoons and then waves it infront of him.

“Fujikawa Corporation has requested an appointment. Something about a product they wish to launch. I've told them that we may set dates for meetings later. And well, our negotiations with D.F.B.I.G are also proceeding smoothly. Those files we brought home have few important reports on the matter.”

“I see.”  

“And well” she starts softly, “Shikadai visited.”

Sarada watches how his hands still for a moment. A frown edges his face.

“He was mad, wasn't he?”

At her silence, Boruto smiled ruefully but did not say anything.

“Boruto. Look-I mean, he just wants you to do good! He's your well-wisher.”

“I know Sarada. I know.”

The silence that follows is very similar to the one before. Tense and unpredictable. Sarada wants to say something, to dispel this awkwardness surrounding them to refrains from doing so.

She notices how she does that a lot, now a days.

In no time, they settle down, Boruto skimming through the numerous files, taking notes of important stuff.

And she leans into the comfort of their couch, opening up the bookmark and reading the novel she had recently picked up.

By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

It is an old story, written years ago. But it was only now that Sarada had decided to finally read it. The book was compelling. The story was interesting. Toying with the concepts of love and romance with a depth that only some novels could reach.

Sarada feels herself so engrossed in the book that she doesn't remember when her eyes fall shut with sleep. But when she wakes up, it's the gentle morning light caressing her face and the comfort of her own bed and her favourite blankets surrounding her. The only evidence of his presence in her room is the faint smell of his cologne.

A warm smile involuntarily curls on her lips.

Try as he might, he has always been a softie at heart.

Trust me! This story will have some drama and spice in it! and oh yes, I promised fluff but...it's not that fluffy right? Don't worry though, I promise to make this worth it! Don't forget to let me know your thoughts, okay?

[pyrogina]

my keto experience

Intro/TL:DR

As a preface I can report that I lost 17lbs in 30 days while strictly adhering to a keto diet.  I'm a 34 year old canadian woman who works from home as an artist and a huge helping factor for me was the freedom to stay home on the bad days and the ability to purchase fresh meats and vegetables on a weekly basis. This is a really tough diet but if you put the right pieces in place, it might work for you too.  Additionally, I am NOT a dietitian/nutritionist in any way, shape, or form.  Everything posted here is from my own experience and a modicum of research on the net.  Please double-check my facts before you begin this diet for yourself.

Is keto for you?

The first and hardest question to ask yourself about a ketosis diet is, Can I Endure this? And you should not feel any guilt if the answer to that question is no, because this is a very invasive and aggressive diet that will cause you physical pain even if just for a brief amount of time. Similar to vegetarianism, or is extreme cousin, veganism, a keto diet involves cutting out large swaths of the food pyramid to facilitate this diet. This does not mean going hungry, the foods that are removed will be replaced with other foods, only without any (or minimal) artificial or natural sugars. Sugar is just a chemical, which doesn't sound like a huge sacrifice, right? Most adults don't bother adding sugar to anything other than tea or coffee, but sugar is much more deeply rooted in our lives than you may realize.

Carbohydrates can be found in virtually every type of ready-to-serve foods: breads, wraps, pastas, fried snacks, hors d'oeuvre (these are examples of things I ate before this diet). All of these delicious and very satisfying foods have a fiber content and sugar content. You're still allowed to consume these, and I encourage you do so, but make sure to monitor the grams of total carbohydrates you consume that day. During this diet you will only be allowed to consume 20 grams (to 50 grams, depending on your body and personal needs) a day. remember this. Those 20 grams of carbs maybe the difference between you having a normal day and one of the worst days of your life.

Before I chose to begin a keto diet, I had been exercising casually (as before I was sedentary, more details on this later) and consuming about half as many carbohydrates as I had normally done in my life before. During the two years I was living this way, I was able to lose approximately 20lbs (from about 230 to 210).  If you're starting your diet or lifestyle change from scratch, maybe try starting here first.  Its significantly slower (10lbs in nearly a year), but it will not cause any pain or significant inconvenience.

What’s the big deal?/What to eat?

Sugar is a chemical, and more than that, its a drug that your body has been dependent on since you were a wee baby in your mama’s belly.  Sugar makes your brain work and when you mess with your brain’s intake of the all-important-life-sauce it goes into panic mode. In the first 2-3 days (up to 6 if your me!) you will literally, physically go into a state of depression.  Many had described it to me as ‘keto flu’ but as a survivor of 2009s Swine flu, I can most assuredly tell you that keto is much, MUCH worse.

First, my appetite became very finicky (and i'm already a very picky eater).  I had no desire to eat the genuinely tasty keto meals that my boyfriend had lovingly prepared.  I didn't want to draw, and I wasn't even in the mood to play easy video games.  All I felt like doing was crying or sleeping (which I did, for 9 hours in the middle of my 3rd day).  This is why, whenever I speak to someone who’s even moderately interested in this diet to BOOK TIME OFF YOUR JOB!!! It’s inconceivable to me to be forced to face other human beings in this state of physical distress.  You need to pamper yourself while in this state in order to endure it and ensure your success.

There was one more bump in the road around the one-week point but i'm fairly certain it came down to a combination of dehydration and moodiness (period) so perhaps that was an outlier.  Either way, water is the key when you start feeling shitty.  Get yourself a nice BPA-free water bottle that you're comfortable carrying around and keeping full of fresh water.  Once your body is in ketosis (you can check using those little paper sticks you pee on from the drug store, wash your hands!) you will get tired and moody the very instant you become hungry at mealtimes.  Sometimes you don't even feel the familiar hunger pangs from your previous diet and mistake it for just a general bad mood. Always have a sip of water, babes; that’s your brain telling you to hydrate.

Alternatively, after eating a keto meal you still may feel hungry or unsatisfied, even sad (longing for your favourite dessert).  This is where those 20g of carbs come in pretty clutch.  Finding your perfect portion of reward may be impossibly difficult, I can only tell you what made me feel better when I got the cravings.  Blueberries are quite sweet, they have a lot of natural sugar, but a handful of them sufficed as an incredibly sweet treat (some keto dieters have proclaimed that ‘regular things taste much sweeter than before’, I didn't experience this). Minigo/iogo yoghurt cups are fatty and sweet and work as a decent replacement to ice cream (count the carbs!).  On extra tough mornings (in addition to bacon and eggs! Totally keto!) we would split a cavendish oven-fried hashbrown (about 15g; 7.5g split between my partner and I).

There are a surprising amount of natural foods that are not keto, but in careful proportions, can be incorporated into a daily keto diet.  Most every fruit (that I checked) is very sugary but can make for a nice dessert.  Certain vegetables like carrots or potato have too many carbs to be anything more than a boost when you feel shitty. Red onions have a very small amount of carbs (sugar and fibre work together to your benefit!) and server to replace pasta as a side to a nice steak dinner.

On that note, you need fibre to make your BMs move.  Cutting carbs from your life means your number 2’s go bunny mode…. Take a sugar-free metamucil on any day where you have more meat during a meal than other types of food, or the toilet will be a nightmare.

Meals:

Cutting away pastas, breads, and other sides seems like an insane task but with some discipline and creativity, it's quite manageable.  Breakfast didn't change much: eggs any way (sunny side for me, cheddar omelette for my BF) with bacon or sausage. Lunch was some combination of chicken breast and various salads (so many salad dressings are low or no carb! Read the back!). On steak night, we replace noodles with sauteed red onions fried and seasoning.  Snacktime was usually pre-sliced cheddar cheese (go NUTS that shit is A-OK!), unsalted peanuts (other nuts have marginally more carbs, almonds and sunflower are moderate, check what works for you), or small amounts of beef jerky.  Accompany those snacks with a big drink of water, or if you've had enough of that, certain drinks are acceptable like tea or coffee (with sweetner and high fat milk, skim milk is too sugary), diet sodas, sugarfree drink mix (migo, nestea).  Just remember water, water, water.

Is it worth it? Pros/Cons

Cons:

-HURTS LIEK DRUG WITHDRAWL (you're literally coming down from the lifelong chemical addiction of sugar.  It hurts like Trainspotting)

-MEAT (you will be consuming a lot of animal product)

-POOP (even when you have your metamucil, the toilet can take some time)

-SWEETS (the cravings for your favourite yumyums will almost never stop, it takes monk-like discipline)

-BORING (you can't go out and enjoy meals/drinks with friends and family without them or the restaurant making odd or even crappy exceptions.  Keto menu options are slowly becoming popular though)

-TIRED (the first week or two will be very tedious and you won’t have any energy, even your favourite hobbies may seen unfulfilling for a time)

-ALCOHOL (basically none, unless you like vodka and sugarfree mix, you'll get drunk a lot quicker and end up feeling shittier without carbs in your body to process the liquor)

Pros:

-INSTANT RESULTS (in my first week i lost nearly 10lbs, and then two for every subsequent week. note that, just like any diet, there will be bounce-back)

-APPETITE LOSS (once you get into the swing of this, after the 2 week mark, you’ll find you no longer are pained when your hungry and the bigger cravings subside)

-BUDGET (this is a bit of an odd one and may not necessarily reflect your cost benefits.  Before engaging in this diet, my BF and I discovered we were spending too much money on restaurants and leaving the food in the fridge to waste.  This was primarily because we were too lazy to cook.  Getting off our asses and cooking 6 days of the week made an immediate impact on this for us.  If you already do that, this won't apply.  Concurrently, we spent more money at the grocery store ensuring we always had fresh meat and vegetables; this did net us positive)

-REWARDING MEALS (having to stop and think about what it takes to make a tasty and satisfying meal has forced us to look at things in a different way.  Making yourself and your partner a healthy, supremely tasty meal gets those endorphins peaking)

-EXERCISE (Unnecessary! Your choice! Just note that building muscle increases your weight as muscle weights more than fat)

My fave meals:

-Coffee (reluctantly replacing 1tsp of sugar with a fairy-dust sprinkling of sweetner cos i HATE sweetner, its 20-30x stronger than sugar so you only need 1/20th as much)

-Eggs and bacon!!! (sausage sometimes too)

-Garlic grilled chicken with spinach salad (onions, sliced almonds, feta, dressing)

-Steak and red onions (meat rare and onions grilled with seasoning)

-Spicy ground pork tacos (replace the taco/burrito with large boston lettuce leaves, shredded cheddar, green onions, diced tomato, dab of ranch sauce)

-Baked chicken breast stuffed with ricotta and spinach, topped with parmesan

-Slow-cooked pulled pork slathered with sharp cheddar (just eat with a fork!)

-Baked shrimp with garlic butter and parmesan

-Jalapenos stuffed with ricotta, cream cheese and cheddar, then wrapped in a strip of bacon (great late-night snack)

-Even changing the texture of a cheese can change the taste of the meal.  Shredded cheddar adds a salty bite to a lettuce wrap, grated parmesan can trick a baked chicken breast into thinking its breaded.  creamy cheeses can replace other baking sauces entirely.

-Diet pops (make sure its 0 sugar!), and tea/coffees with sweetner are fine, they do contain a lot of sodium though, make sure to drink 1-for-1 with water (meaning: every diet coke or tea you have, accompany it with the same amount of plain water so your body can process it and pee it out).

Variations/Control:

Vitamins: It should be noted that I take a daily multivitamin (C3+D) as I generally don't get enough sun or fruits.  I highly recommend you take these just in general. They help keep skin soft and blemish free (I initially began taking these because of acne on upper arms and it cleared within days).

Activity: As briefly mentioned earlier, I began shifting from sedentary (not moving much, sitting for hours a day) to a more active lifestyle about 2-3 years ago. This entailed a personal regimen of making an attempt at physical activity approximately half the days of the month (period week was generally excluded).  Every other day I would attempt one of the following: walking at least 2km, 15-20m of floor exercises (‘lady push-ups’, sit-ups), 15-20m of time on the indoor bike, or an hour of house related chores (lifting, laundry, cleaning, anything that involves getting sweaty).  In addition to these, yoga is peppered into my lifestyle as frequently as possibly, particularly in the morning before breakfast. On days where i'm unable to exercise, I at least attempt the basic yoga poses to stave off my (no-longer chronic) back pain.

[fit-as-fxck]

hi. I have a lengthy update and a story.

Good Evening, Friends. Here’s an update that no one asked for. I continue to feel much, much better. I can credit that to a constant, normalized sleep schedule, a reduction of the constant stress of the last three months and making sure I eat. As far as movement goes that’s exactly what I've been focusing on. m o v e m e n t. This doesn't mean always going to the gym and slamming weights around, this means moving more intuitively and listening to what I want to do and what I need (without putting too much pressure on myself to be rigid with set demands). Some days I take my dog with me to the park while I do outdoor yoga (in preparation for my outdoor classes I always do in the summer). Sometimes I meet up with a friend and hit the trails for an easy run. Sometimes, doing “nothing” is more important and takes precedence. (If you don't want to read this all skip down to the bottom for a lil story I guarantee you’ll want to read.)

Habits/personal: Every morning make it a point to tell myself I'm going to stay present today. That’s my goal. To stay present and take advantage of every moment, and yes, it comes down to actively monitoring my habits. Even things like social media and electronic use impacts us and none of us were given a manual on how to navigate this shifting terrain. So yeah, reading an actual book before bed and shutting down devices actually does make a difference on our mind and body. Sometimes, we have to set rules for ourselves depending on our lives and how we know we respond to things like this. I’m starting a gratitude journal too so that’ll be new journey for me (it’s scientifically proven to lower inflammation in the body). My life is starting to go back to “normal”, finally. I was under intense life stressors for a few months. 

Training: 

I’ve done some easy trail runs with my friend (the one who was my old gym partner). His training is ramping up significantly and mine is just now recovering so I've only been joining him on his easy recovery runs. The first one I did, my legs felt like two ton bricks. It felt like I was running through jello. I’m not embarrassed to say it was just awful. Consider that I spent since October not putting an emphasis on cardio (only some conditioning), so yeah not surprising. The good news is, it only sucks for a little bit and then it gets better. I mean, each run I do I'll never have to redo again lmao. I hate treadmill running unless I'm doing sprints. I always choose outdoor if I can. I haven't done any major strength training and I’ve probably lost a lot of strength but I'm not worried about it. Muscle has a memory. I’m ready to pick up some strength training again but my goals right now are more geared towards movement and cardio (so the strength training will be to support that). And of course, yoga. I love doing more and more of it. It just makes you feel so damn good. Plan: adding cardio in 4 times weekly. Alternating between cycling, running, trail running, moderate intensity and intervals. Finishing with a handful of lifting exercises a couple times a week to stay strong. 

Nutrition:

Like I mentioned, I am making sure to eat. And haven't been too strict about it, like, at all. I’ve been fueling on pb&j’s. (Side note: I am always making sure I keep my caffeine intake low, I feel better without it. I do half-caff coffee mostly.) I’m increasing my workouts since I'm feeling good so my nutrition is going to be shifted to support those goals. I don't want be too extreme so I'll be following an 80/20 diet. 80% clean Whole Foods and 20% Oreos and Snickers (jk). A major pitfall of mine is failing to prepare to have food when I need it. This week, and for the following weeks, I'm meal prepping everything (which I should be doing anyways *glares* @ me). I’m sticking to whole, “clean” foods and following basic nutrition principles. I’m 100% sure you can make progress on nearly any “diet” as long as you follow nutritional fundamentals. I feel better when I eat better anyways. Sometimes we have to go back to basics. Foundations are what we build everything on and any tweaks we do to that foundation are just the “fluff” on top. Don’t want that foundation to have cracks in it, do we? (SO this week I made a homemade Mac and cheese. Most times I burn everything but sometimes my attempts are a slam dunk. I made my own cheese sauce and used half noodles and half shredded cauliflower to increase the volume and MAN IT WAS BOMB. YOU GOTTA TRY IT. YOU COULDNT EVEN TELL THERE WAS CAULIFLOWER IN IT. Sneaky vegetables.) Unfortunately, I'll have to cut out the Mac & cheese and pb&j’s BUT if it’s the weekend and I want a bagel, I'm gonna have a bagel (80/20 ok). I’m prepping things like grass fed beef, vegetables and sweet potates or rice etc (yes, its potates). 

Other (friends/lifestyle/inspo):

So I got a call from my gym buddy this week which I did not expect. When he started working out with me in January(?) he was what you would call “skinny-fat”, which is defined as not looking overweight but also not having any distinguishable muscle tone. Since then he’s put some serious size and strength and totally upped his cardio game. I started him out on some basic training and knowledge and then he continued on his own. When he called me he told me a man approached him in the gym and asked what he was training for. He told him he was training for an iron man (his overall bucket list goal). This is a hefty goal considering he started at ground zero. BUT everyone starts at zero and he is young and you won’t see me telling him he can’t do it. You can do anything you put your mind to. My friend told the guy about how he went down to 135 pounds at his thinnest (dude is like over 6 feet tall) and then went up 65 pounds at his heaviest. Well, they got to talking and this man started telling him about his friends going through BUDS training (SEAL training). And, my friend spilled the beans. He told him that he hadn't told anyone yet but his overall goal was to go out for the Seals. Yeah, aggressive goal. Thats when the guy told him he was special forces (ranger). He told him David Goggins was headed through town and they were all going to dinner with him. Yeah, I know, sounds odd. Anyways, this guy told him that the only difference between him and the ones that made it, was that now it was his turn to do it. That’s it. (Pretty crazy considering like 6% of people that go out for this pass). So my friend told him he “didn’t know anyone”. The guy told him that there were a ton of special forces in this area but they don’t tell you they are unless they want you to know. But, my dude meant he quite literally didn’t. know. anyone. He had lost all his friends when he found out they had different priorities and pretty much has no one around him supporting him on this, which is why he called me when he was astounded this happened. Serendipity, I guess. Put your goals out there into the world with iron conviction and the universe will find a way to meet you halfway. So this guy was 38 I think and didn’t look his age (not that 38 is old..) and told dude that he could probably smoke everyone in this gym and well, he could, based on the workouts he was doing. My friend’s jaw was on the floor with this whole interaction. He told me he was nervous and stumbling over his words and felt like he probably made an ass of himself. He apologized for it, saying he barely got any sleep and was super stressed and the guy said “Who gets sleep? And we’re all stressed.” The guy offered his advice and networking anytime dude sees him in the gym etc. 

We all come from somewhere, we all have dark, broken histories, large goals, even larger struggles etc and feel like our lives consist of constantly trying to pull it together until the day we die but, I swear, you gotta find a way to believe in yourself and even accept your failures. Whats the worst that could happen? You die trying? At least you followed your heart. Just like this dude, out of shape, stumbling, mad at himself because of slow progress but just look back three or four months... He’s strong now and the progress happened because he was patient with himself and didn’t give up even when he felt like it and he’s still not done. More power to him and anyone willing to try. Perhaps the overall goal doesn't matter as much as who we become in the act of trying (thank you Kaylo Littlejohn for that quote). Most times, people just need a positive push in the right direction. Maybe we can focus a little bit more on uplifting and being positive because that shit is contagious. 

[whirlybirbs]

studying.

pairing: college!peter x reader rating: all audiences welcome to this fluff what to listen to: roll up by fitz & the tantrums a/n: for the anons who gave me some ideas, here is the start of a potential series? or, as i would say, peter crushes on his TA.

After months of applications and tours and accepted student days, Peter had finally settled on MIT.

(It had helped that Tony had written his recommendation letter. A lot.)

September brings a new leaf.

Peter trades in the hustle and bustle for NYC for that of Boston. It is less shiny, less new. He likes it though; likes the cobblestone, the spirit, the history and the rhythmic rattle of the T under the Kendell stop. The late summer breeze is crisp as Peter shrugs his hoodie on, bagel dangling from his mouth as he chews and launches himself up the steps towards the quad.

His sense are in a haywire; it is the new environment. His sunglasses are maybe a little darker than they should be.

A week ago, his phone had been buzzing with kissy emoji from Aunt May, a good luck text from Tony and of course Ned -- his friend had settled in only a few T stops away at Harvard. The first day of classes had come and gone, bringing it with it an overwhelming sense of belonging. For once, Peter didn’t feel like an outlier.

The only text Peter is paying attention to this morning is yours, though.

pls help me study for my bio quiz later, peter, i am begging u

It makes him laugh. Peter grins, dimples digging in a little bit as he settles into a quick pace. Strawberry converse beat against the jagged cobblestone.

I mean, he wasn’t going to lie to himself -- you were, like, gorgeous. And funny. And you thought it was cool that he’d binged the entirety of Jason Todd and the Outlaws in one night. The fact that you’d excitedly added him on Facebook last Friday after class was enough; he’d messaged you, asking if avoiding the chicken at McCormick was a smart move.

You were a sophomore. You knew the ropes. Peter is totally using it as an excuse.

it’s literally the second week??? who is giving quizzes already??? who’s THAT evil???

You’re laughing, crossing the quad on the opposite side of campus when you get his texts.

It was only happenstance you two started to become friends. His first class, an 8:30am entry-level history course run by Professor Frankfurt (which was really just one big Captain America fanboy session) happened to be the class you’d decided to TA for -- and in turn, the class you’d first met Peter in. Forced to sit front row after arriving late -- he’d had trouble finding the Tang Auditorium -- he ended up being the one to sit next to you.

He was wearing a Saint Motel t-shirt. You’d stopped him after class, nervously chirping your admiration of that particular album. He’d stuttered in surprise. You were a little mortified, mostly since you had realize how pretty he was. He had big brown eyes and dimples. Dimples.

From that point forward, it was like you couldn’t escape him. He joined the Broadcasting club -- and you’d laughed out loud when he walked through the door wearing a different Saint Motel t-shirt. Comic Roundtable wasn’t safe either, as Peter Parker had suddenly become the fresh face among the small club of eight. It truly culminated when you realized Peter had taken up residency on Danny’s floor -- the R.A. was a fellow Anthropology major, and one of your closest friends.

So, yeah, texting him and asking for help on a Gen Ed Bio course quiz was kind of pushing it. You wanted to hate Peter, honestly -- as a freshman he’d already met a handful of prerequisites through his famed Stark Internship, working his way through a good half of the first year Computer Science and Molecular Biology course load. The air at MIT was competitive, but for some reason Peter didn’t feed into it. You felt okay admitting a fault.

It wasn’t like you were going to go to Academic Computing. They’d definitely roast you for not understanding cell structure and osmosis and all that other shit. You were an Anthropology and American History double major for god’s sake. You didn’t need that stuff in your brain. You needed room for other things.

So, you text Peter back.

it’s prof steck. don’t play urself. stay away from her. but is that a yes??? bc if it is i’ll swipe for u at baker!!!

Peter’s slipping through the auditorium doors when he texts you back.

Your phone buzzes on your desk, and you laugh a little when you read the message.

only if u buy me mozzerella stix!!!!

He shoulders you as he sits down. The touch is enough to light up Peter’s nervous system; he ignores the happy tingle that creeps up his back.

The stack of graded papers is jostled a bit by the movement -- Frankfurt had done an assessment on Wednesday, intending to get a gage for what he was working with in the class. So much for syllabus week. You, of course, had been tasked with grading. Not that you minded, though, it had distracted you from asking Peter to come out with you on Saturday night.

“You know,” you chirp, “Baker has make your own stir fry tonight...”

“No way!” Peter’s voice clips a bit, high and excited, “Then forget the fried cheese sticks, buy me stir fry.”

“Only if you don’t make fun of me,” you hum, rolling your eyes a little, “This quiz on is the simple stuff and I don’t know why, I just don’t get it.”

“Well,” Peter chides, settling back in his seat. His fingers dance across the trackpad of his laptop, waking it up, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

You deadpan.

Peter grins. It’s toothy.

“Is that what the Stark Internship taught you?”

His laugh is boyish. Those dimples are back. Your chest caves a bit, face hot with a gooey expression. What the hell is wrong with you? Going gaga over a freshman?

“Naw, memes taught me that one.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands as Professor Frankfurt throws himself into the auditorium in a huff, “Even better.”

You’re both silenced into a hush as the rest of the first year class follows suit. Professor Frankfurt calls roll. Your name is called after Peter’s. You hand out the exams, and then sit beside Peter for the rest of the class, basking in the warm glow of his semi-permanent smile.

“You know it’s not a date, right?”

Your roommate has her fists halfway into a family sized bag of doritos. Netflix glows from the top bunk. You’re fixing your hair in the mirror hanging on the door.

“I know, but,” you sigh, “He’s cute.”

“He’s a freshman,” she waves as The Office drones on, “He’s fresh meat -- dead in the water. That’s social suicide, you know. At least wait until after Rush Week.”

“Peter doesn’t seem like the fraternity type.”

“Yikes.”

“That’s not a bad thing!” you huff, tugging your hair up and away, “Seriously, there’s a reason why you keep getting your heart broken by dumb boys.”

“Is it because I have an affinity for beefy rich assholes named Brad?”

“That’ll do it, honestly.”

“Fair enough,” she tosses a grin your way, “Good luck on your dinner date with Peter.”

“It’s not a date!”

--

It’s not a date.

Totally not?

Why is he so nervous?

Oh god, his hands are sweating.

“I’ll have the sweet and tangy sauce, please.”

The box of stir fry is handed to him -- you’re already digging in with a goofy grin on your face. You much on the lo mein noodles happily. You’re covering your own nervousness well. Thank god for deodorant because Peter has you sweating -- literally. It had climbed into the high 70s by late afternoon, leaving Parker in a t-shirt that seemed too tight to be legal and a pair of shorts. He was tan. And he had freckles. Everywhere.

Your hair is swept into hazy curls by the late summer heat. Peter watches the curls along the back of your neck as you both work your way through the check out in the dining hall.

You both make your way to the Hayden Library, strides slow. The sky looks gold, and the clouds glow in the deep blue of the September evening. Traffic drums on, but you both are locked into conversation. Nothing is breaking it -- not even the wave of friends across the street.

“So, New York, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, taking a bite from his takeout container, “My Aunt told me that if I ever went to a Red Sox game, she’d murder me in cold blood.”

“Yikes,” you chatter, “You’re missing out -- I mean, no Big Papi anymore, but Hanley Ramirez is a big deal. Be a shame if you never saw him play in Boston.”

“Are you trying to convince me to go to a Red Sox game?” Peter’s voice hitches, “Because that’s not happening.”

“C’mon, the Yankees suck,” your smile is challenging and Peter laugh as you take a few steps ahead, turning around to watch him as you skip backwards, “Turn to the dark side, Peter! It’s more fun! We have a green monster.”

“I think I’d rather take the Hulk, honestly.”

“Me too,” you wink, “Bruce Banner is an absolute babe.”

Peter laughs at that -- loud and rowdy in the late summer heat. It’s intoxicating.

Your takeaway boxes have been abandoned, licked clean, in favor of a biology textbook and notepads. Though, it wasn’t a welcome abandonment. You wanted to pull your hair out. It showed.

Your lips are pulled into a pout. Peter watches your brows screw together. The study room is filled with the chatter of a Bio101 Youtube video he’d pulled up, hoping to explain osmosis and semipermeable membranes and the importance of saline.

“See?” Peter’s pen taps the screen, “From high to low!”

“Always?”

“Always.”

“Sounds fake,” you hum, mushing your cheeks together as you lean on the wooden table, “But okay.”

“It’s not fake! It’s science.”

“So,” you lean back, waving your fingers, “... magic?”

“Basically,” Peter shrugs, “My formal title after grad school will be Wizard.”

“I want to be a wizard.”

“Then --”

“And make this whole quiz disappear.”

Peter drops his head into his hands, laughing softly as he rubs his brows together. You were getting it, albeit slowly. He couldn’t say he really minded losing his Monday night to you -- in fact, he found himself enjoying this a little bit too much. Your knee brushes his under the table as you shift, eyes drawn back to the video.

His skin tingles. Hot and prickly.

“How about one more hour of studying?”

“Thank god,” you whisper, “I can do that.”

“Power hour?”

“Power hour.”

He walks you back to your dorm.

Even though it’s in the opposite direction of his.

“I hope I helped,” he sighs, “Even if it’s a little bit?”

“You helped a lot -- seriously, I think I’m a wizard now.”

You blossom with pride as he giggles, eyes screwing shut as his head falls backwards. His converse scuff against the pavement as he shoves his fingers into his pockets. Peter glows under pinks and yellows of the streetlights. It’s cute. You wind your own fingers together, toeing the ground.

There’s a weighted pause between you both. Brown eyes burrow into your own.

It’s broken by the door to your dorm swinging open and a group of guys bustling by. It prompts you both to laugh again.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, then?”

“Yeah! And, uh, I’ll let you know how I do on my quiz!”

“Make me proud!”

He waves, you wave, and you swear it’s the warmest you’ve ever felt.

[hardeepcox]

The Chronicles of Hardeep Cox - Bangkok pt 1

Intro

Hi my name is Hardeep Cox, I may or may not be a guy born to an Indian mom and a white guy from Boston in the DMV area. Then again I may or may not be just an extremely immature adult with a ridiculous sense of humor. Quick warning: if you are easily offended then I suggest you just exit this shit right now and idk go watch cable tv or something.

I am writing this as we prepare for our first legit night out in Bangkok, as I and a dude named Paper awkwardly wait for my dad to finish showering so we can head out. Tonight’s destination is Above Eleven, but I’ll explain more later on. Let’s begin with our arrival.

Flight and Night 1

After about 20 hours of flying we met up with Paper, our guide/family friend (on my dad’s side). Paper picked us up from the airport and helped us hail a cab. My first impression of Bangkok when I stepped outside of the airport was that it seemed so similar to Los Angeles, I guess because of the weather and vegetation. Anyways, the cab dropped us off at the Doubletree where an enormous wooden figure of a football (soccer) sat in the lobby. To my unbelievable surprise, it turned out that Paper was actually going to be staying in the hotel room with us because he lives outside of the city (my dad of course manages to leave out important details like this when planning trips). Because of the timezone change we were hungry upon arrival, at 3 in the damn morning. So we did what any idiot American tourist would do, we went to 7 Eleven. I had to accept the fact that chili and cheese quarter pounders would no longer be an option, so I went with the spicy basil rice and fish sauce. I gotta say that it was pretty good, even though it was spicy as hell. After crushing my first meal in Thailand, we did our best to sleep for the next couple of hours.

Day 1

Sleep deprived but feeling ready to roll, we got ready and headed downstairs for breakfast. The buffet included the usual American stuff, sushi, dim sum, and some freshly made Thai dishes.The dim sum was by far my favorite, and today it was Chinese egg tarts.

We went to some Buddhist temples, hundreds of years old. There were so many Chinese tourists, and so many lame pictures being taken by them (sitting down in lotus position next to a statue of the Buddha, a chick looking dramatically and diagonally down at the floor while her boyfriend takes a picture for her instagram and you KNOW she’s gonna add some kind of bullshit philosophical caption to it). It was hard to get into the spiritual groove with all these tourists, and the only places where I could feel peace was in the praying rooms where I wish that I could have stayed longer. The best part was the Wat Phra Ram, literally the place where they filmed one of my favorite childhood movies Mortal Kombat. It was totally unexpected and spontaneous, the most interesting part about it was the dog that had managed to sneak up into the actual ruins and seemed to be searching for something at a calm pace. My pathetic attempts to whistle loud enough for the dog to hear me led me to run around the ruins hoping to catch a glimpse of it. I heard it howl a couple of times after that and I’ll always wonder why, maybe its spirit led it to the ruins to discover a link to a past life. Who knew I would have accidentally stepped into the Netherealm, but too bad I couldn't meet Raiden, Shang Tsung, and Liu Kang's dead brother (if you don't get this reference please find a time machine and go back in time to 1995, break into a Hollywood video, steal a copy of Mortal Kombat, watch it, go back into the time machine, return to the present time, and punch yourself in the fucking face).

Tired as hell we walked around markets near the Chao Phra Ya river, they were pretty generic developing country markets and I was extremely tired so I just wanted to go back to the hotel and pass out. We tried some sticky rice dessert that was pretty good so we bought some, and my dumbass ate my entire portion in the cab and felt even more like a piece of shit after. We made a stop for some roadside Pad Thai, it was delicious but again I was exhausted. Back in the cab again I pretty much passed out from exhaustion.

Night 2

I woke maybe 45 minutes later still in the cab but the sun was setting and the nocturnal city was coming alive. Suddenly it dawned on me that we had to be in Chinatown and my street-mode immediately turned on. After driving us through some beautifully sketchy streets, our cab driver dropped us off at a main road. All the lights made it look like it was an attempt at giving it a times square feel. I was now totally awake and ready for more exploring, and after walking for a bit we walked by a Chinese restaurant (Chinatown in Bangkok is an extremely fast-paced environment full of beautiful chaos, if you can’t keep up you might as well stay in your comfy apartment and drink lattes or something). The menu had so many choices, but no combination fried rice, general tso’s chicken, or lo mein (at this point I realized that I should just forget about these options because I’m not gonna find this delicious diabetes-maximus anymore). I got the egg noodles with roasted duck for $2, and the portion was just right for me since I was still full from that sticky rice and exhausted from the jetlag. Before the food coma took over, we took a tuk tuk to the nearest metro train station and made our way back to the hotel. The metro was actually very organized and technologically advanced, the DC metro could learn a thing or two from it. Because of the timezone change, the beers, sticky rice, and random stuff that I had eaten, I hadn’t really used the bathroom all day. Walking from the metro to the hotel at some point became truly difficult and I had tell myself just breathe man don’t shit yourself on your first night in Bangkok goddammit.

Now back at the hotel and totally relieved, our night actually began.

Nocturnal Adventure

We started out at the Queen Bee, a little bar across the street with shitty mojitos but a damn good blues band. From there we went to a place that my dad would not stop mentioning, Above Eleven, a local Peruvian restaurant. Probably one of the coolest restaurants that I’ve honestly ever been to. This was some upper class bougie shit as the kids say, but the view of the city was breathtaking and the food was absolutely delicious (and I am a picky fuck when it comes to flavors). The Peruvian food was authentic, the Pisco Sour was legit, and we got to meet Chef Omar Frank Maruy. Chef Maruy is the Japanese-Peruvian chef in charge of keeping the food quality at Above Eleven at its exquisite level. After downing a few Pisco sours, and devouring a few dishes (ceviche, jalea, and anticucho) we made our way to Havana Social. I could tell this place was throwing a good party as we walked to the entrance which was a random door in an alley with working girls in the corner. Too bad some of us were wearing shorts so we were ultimately denied entrance. Bummed out we walked to the nearest bar, Oskar, and had Lavender Pisco Sours. Seriously so creative and surprisingly delicious!

After downing these drinks we basically gave up and made our way back to the hotel. Maybe like 5 minutes away from the hotel we walked past a really sketchy alley and I shit you not, my dad says “let’s go into a small street shithole bar!” He’s already walking towards it so Paper and I say fuck it and we join him, plus I mean come on I gotta watch my dad’s back since hookers have been flirting with him for the past 25 minutes. We walk in and of course all these chicks are so psyched to see us, a very pretty hostess welcomes us so we sit at the bar and get some Tiger beers. With Youtube as our DJ, we start sipping on beers and my dad is just having a blast with these two chicks. They try to flirt with me but I’m like meh, I’ve honestly seen hotter escorts in Lima. Then one of them says, “I’m gonna bring my sister for you.” I’m like ok cool whatever, totally unimpressed as I watch my dad party at this little bar. This chick brings the pretty hostess over and introduces her as her “sister”, and I notice dude this girl is actually super cute and obviously not an actual escort. Me and her are both like uhh… hi? She’s not sure how to interact with idiot foreigners, but I can tell and I am just my usual super chill self with her. She gets a jack and coke, and I continue sipping on my Tiger. Her name is May, I was like “is it pronounced like the month May, or is it Mai like my?” She looked at me like if I was a dumbass but she was playful about it, and I start crushing on this chick because I mean duh I am a fucking idiot and I do shit like this. This all ended with a bill of almost $200 USD, an escort angry at us for not taking her back to our hotel, and me DJ’ing some old school reggaeton on their Youtube. As we made our way back to the hotel we ran into into girls selling booze on the sidewalk in what seemed like the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo but cut in half the long way, and the girls turned the bottom half of the car into a mini-bar. As I took a whiz on a street corner, Paper points out that dude there is a toilet at this mini-bar on the sidewalk! I look behind a little curtain next to the mini-bar and there is in fact a toilet there, I mean not connected to any plumbing or anything, just literally a tiny toilet placed on the sidewalk. Did I whiz into this tiny toilet like 20 minutes later? Yes. Did I drink a few too many rum and cokes at this sidewalk mini-bar? Yes. Did I have any idea of what the hell to expect the next day? Hell no.

Night 3 - Let’s try not to die tonight shall we?

I’m skipping to Night 3 because the highlight of Day 2 is just me holding a lemur (by the way lemurs are freakin adorable and they have actual fingers and thumbs!), and realizing that my dad should move to the Thai countryside cuz he is actually genuinely happy there (he greeted random people from a canoe, including a naked fat guy who was in the middle of a soapy bath in the river).

On Night 3 we make another attempt at Havana Social (if there ever is a place with reggaeton and Cuban rum then you’ll probably find me there). The entrance is the #1 coolest that I have seen in my life so far, some dude gives you a code and you punch it into an old phone-booth, this then unlocks an old door next to it which you push open and find a little piece of Havana hidden within Bangkok. So there I am doing my thing downing Cuba Libres, dancing, and laughing at tourists dancing like idiots when I notice three pretty cute chicks dancing near us. I am not the most extroverted dude, but when I hear Latin music the beast is then awakened and I just let it take me places. So I slither over to these girls and pull off some of my signature moves, including one borrowed from my grandpa which I call the Egyptian knife hands. One of the chicks starts dancing with me and my first thought is “wow my dad is watching me spit some legit game, now I AM THE MASTER!” But anyways yeah we dancin and shiet. Suddenly she asks if I wanna go with her and her friends to another club, I thought it was a bad idea but the rum and Daddy Yankee had me saying “yeah screw it let’s go.” The four of us leave the club and somehow fit into a tuk tuk that says VIP on the seat and one of the girls say it’s free! RED FLAG - free shit usually comes with a price later on, and these girls seemed way too excited to have me along. One of the girls pulls out a wrapper with a bunch of pills and puts one in my mouth, my first thought is oh fuck I’m about to get roofied, or flooried, dammit Zack Galifianakis! I pretend to swallow the pill, then I look over into the street and spit this shit out. The girl is like are you feeling okay? I’m like yeah I’m great (meanwhile internally trying to think of an escape plan without freaking out)! We get to this club called Mixx, and this party is poppin. Every tourist is dancing with a local, and I’m thinking wow is every girl at a club in Bangkok an escort… like every single damn one?! My phone only has internet if there is wifi, and I tell the girl that I wanna call my friends to come but I need the wifi password so she hooked me up with her hotspot. Instead of figuring out how to use the wifi to escape, I’m in the bathroom FB messaging my friends back in the states how I almost got roofied and that I’m probably gonna die cuz I mean that is a brilliant idea right? I go back out there and one of the girls goes “if you wanna hang out with me it’s gonna be 3000 baht (like almost $100 USD).” Since I don’t wanna die I go “okay sounds good, let’s hang out every day this week okay?” Her eyes brighten up and she has a huge smile on her face, she tells her friend who then makes a face like “we did it bitch!” I’m thinking okay thank god I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow in a tub full of ice with my internal organs missing because they wanna take all my money throughout the week. Suddenly the Thai DJ starts playing the cumbia song “Colegiala”, and it was at this exact moment that I knew that everything would be okay! I stopped freaking out and danced the night away, didn’t sleep that night, and somehow found a really nice cab driver to take me back to my hotel afterwards (he charged me 300 baht but had no change so I just gave him my 1000 baht bill, really nice guy and really grateful). Yep definitely not doing that again, from now on I will assume every chick at a club in Bangkok is an escort. If you are asking yourself if I hit up that girl again to hang out and continuously pay her $100 USD throughout the week, the answer is dude of course not wtf.

[lowcarbnutrients]

Is It Okay To Hide Vegetables In Your Child`s Food?

If there is one food group that youngsters have the tendency to transform their noses up at, it's vegetables. Veggies-particularly green ones-have a bitter taste, which in hunter-gatherer times, frequently signified 'toxic' or poisonous. This could be component of the reason that most young kids locate environment-friendly veggies 'yucky'-it could really be an all-natural survival impulse. Kids likewise have extra preference buds than adults do, which could improve the yuck aspect much more. This is very important for us moms and dads to know, to ensure that we don't panic when our children decline them.

The fact is, despite the fact that veggies are a fundamental part of our diets, youngsters who have a really low vegetable consumption likely still have a nutritionally ample diet (presuming, obviously, that they accept a nice selection of various other foods). Yet several moms and dads firmly insist that their child must consume vegetables. If coercion methods, such as bribing or compensating, don't job, anxious moms and dads commonly turn to what is now a plethora of blog sites and recipe books concentrated on 'slipping' veggies (and also various other healthy foods) right into their kids' diet plans, for some tranquility of mind.

As a moms and dad of a young child that now selects every tip of eco-friendly out of his food, I get it. I understand the irritation and fear, and also sympathize with those that consider pureeing veggies right into breads, muffins, and treats. However if you on a regular basis hide veggies in your child's food, you might wind up fanning to a fire that would have naturally gone out on its own.

Kids are smarter than you think.

As Brian Wansink, PhD, as well as writer of Mindless Eating ( which I extremely suggest) points out in a Parents magazine article, children will get you if you are creeping veggies right into their food. When an item of zucchini doesn't puree correctly and also comes to be noticeable in your child's favorite cookie, or if she captures you sneaking an orange pureed mixture into her pancakes, she will certainly become dubious. If she captures you in the act (which she at some point will) as well as learns that you are not being up-front with her, those 'unpleasant' veggies are unexpectedly much 'yuckier,' and you've got a much bigger issue on your hands. ' Currently these veggies are SO gross that Mama needed to hide them in my food,' she may think.

Take the stress off of on your own:

According to Ellyn Satter's Feeding Relationship, your work as a parent is to serve a selection of healthy foods at proper as well as consistent periods in designated areas (you're in charge of the what, where, and when of feeding), as well as your kid is responsible for if and just how much he eats. In various other words, it is not your job making sure that your youngster eats his veggies-it's his. You can likewise kick back recognizing that veggies aren't necessary for a nutritionally sufficient diet. If your kid has a different fruit consumption, this can make up for a low vegetable consumption. Currently don't relax too much, it's still crucial to proceed revealing your youngster to a range of vegetables every day, although he may deny them. This will certainly raise his possibilities of approving them in the future.

Adding veggies is different compared to sneaking veggies:

I constantly include leafy greens to our fruit smoothies and also frequently load additional veggies into our spaghetti sauce. There is nothing wrong with including vegetables to a recipe to increase the dietary top quality of it. As long as you're open as well as straightforward with your child regarding it as well as there's no sneaking about. Start early. My child has actually never ever recognized a shake to be without some sort of vegetable in it. He additionally aids me chop (with his plastic knife) veggies to enter into covered dishes and also sauces. If you subject your youngster to vegetables early, it is most likely that he will approve them as he expands older.

Rename them:

A buddy and also I took our young boys for smoothie mixes recently. Both kids see exactly what enters into the healthy smoothies and also we don't conceal that they include veggies. This time, the young boys were extra delighted concerning their environment-friendly shakes, because my pal asked them if they wanted a 'hulk healthy smoothie' for lunch. This made an otherwise regular healthy smoothie amazing for our kids. Brian Wansink agrees with this technique, pointing out a study in his article where 4-year-olds consumed 50% more veggies when they were named something creative, like 'Princess Peas' or 'X-ray Vision Carrots.' There is no trickery in renaming a veggie something creative as well as fun, and it makes for a much more exciting experience for your children.

Try offering them in a different way:

Toddlers and young children could be actually finicky when it comes to how their food is served. Recently, my kid chooses all of his food different. Instead of blending blueberries into his oatmeal like I made use of to, I now put them on the side. And as opposed to consuming an item of pizza generally, he now takes every one of the toppings off and eats the crust initially as well as after that the toppings. Attempt asking your youngster just how he would certainly like his food offered prior to serving it-' Would you like your peas inside your macaroni or on the side?' or 'Would certainly you like your spaghetti sauce on top of your noodles or next to it?' You will certainly be surprised at the responses you'll obtain as well as, possibly, the adjustment in acceptability.

Similarly, try out how you reduced veggies. For instance, my child a lot prefers cucumber coins over strips nowadays. He also favors pepper strips instead than cut pepper pieces.

And let's be straightforward, raw veggies with some type of dip are much more delicious than level. Make a homemade tzatziki sauce from simple greek yogurt, minced garlic, lemon juice, and salt as well as pepper, as well as offer with peppers, cucumber, as well as cherry tomatoes, offer carrots and celery with hummus or cattle ranch dip, as well as try offering fit to be tied broccoli with thawed cheese ahead.

Give them a choice of two:

Instead of claiming, 'We are having steamed broccoli with supper,' attempt providing them a selection of veggie by stating, 'Would certainly you such as broccoli with cheese sauce or raw veggies and dip?' By doing this, you are handing over several of the control (which kids and young children hunger for) as well as allowing your kid to decide just what he is eating, while still ultimately remaining in control. I call this offering youngsters 'structured control.' My kid often surprises me by stating, 'Both Mother!'

Let your kid aid with meal-prep:

As untidy as it gets and also as frustrating as it can be, I still welcome my preschooler to assist me prepare dinner most evenings as a result of every one of the amazing advantages that I see coming from it. He will not only munch on veggies that I'm chopping up, but he's also come to be a whiz at throwing active ingredients right into a mixer or mixer, and a master stirrer of all points. Entailing your kid in meal-prep has numerous benefits. He will certainly be more probable to take a seat to family dishes and will be far more likely to taste the food that he has contributed to preparing. It gives youngsters a sense of pride as well as accomplishment.

Repetition is ok:

There is absolutely nothing wrong with serving the exact same accepted vegetable over and also over once more. If your child likes peas yet rejects every other vegetable, serve him peas. Constantly offer one or two added vegetables (whatever the remainder of the family members is having) along with the peas, also if you know that he won't consume them. The more direct exposure your youngster has to a selection of vegetables, the more probable he will be to at some point start as well as try them.

Eat veggies yourself:

If your child continuously sees you enjoying vegetables at family meals or throughout snack time, she will grow up learning that consuming veggies is typical and also healthy and balanced. I constantly tell my clients, 'Eat the way you desire your children to eat,' since we are their versions. If your youngster regularly sees you leaving veggies on your plate or just ever consuming a couple of kinds of veggies, she will certainly have an extremely tough time expanding her own taste. Aim to have at the very least two veggie sides at family members dinners (both raw as well as prepared), with great deals of colour.

You could want to look into Your Duty When It Concerns Feeding Your Toddler/Preschooler, along with My Top 10 Dietitian-Approved Easy as well as Yummy Recipes.

Feel free to come on over to my facebook page where I share family members nourishment pointers, choosy eating recommendations, as well as whole lots of nutrition resources daily.

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What Is Love

Pairing: Jim Hopper x reader

Tags: female reader, some swears, reader and Eleven bonding, mentions of Sara, some fluff too

Words: 1969

Summary: The reader and Eleven surprise Hopper with dinner. Eleven has some questions about love for the reader.

A/N: This is my first fic posted to tumblr! my girl @poodle-haired-poe convinced me to post it....so Enjoy!!!

Two knocks. Pause. One knock. Pause. Three knocks. The sound of the locks coming off their track could be heard before the door opened. Quickly closing the door behind you and locking it, you gazed around the cabin to see if Eleven was around anywhere. After you set the bags down on the table and you walked up to her bedroom door.

“Hey, El, it’s Y/N, I went to the store after work and got a few things. You wanna help me make dinner?” You asked hopefully, trying to hold a relationship with your boyfriends secret pretty much daughter. He was hiding her to protect her from the men at the lab and you were never more proud of the man you loved. Him and Eleven were as thick as thieves, you and Hop were obviously close, it only made sense to try and get close to Eleven.

“Help make dinner?” The young teenager repeated, the door now open and she was staring up at you with her classic deer in the headlights look.

“Yeah, I was thinking of making some lasagna for us tonight. But, I could really use your help.” She looked back unsurely of what you meant by help. “It’s fun, come on.” You turned and walked back into the kitchen with her following behind a moment later. You started going through the bags, putting away what needed to go away and keeping out the ingredients for the lasagna.

El stared intently at the now open box of noodles that were in front of her. She grabbed a noodle and examined it for a moment before bringing it up to her mouth.

“No, sweetie,” You pulled the noodle away from her mouth. “We have to cook those first. Here,” You grabbed a pan, setting it on the stove you adjusted the knob to the correct temperature. “I’ll put the ground meat in this pan and you can brown it. That means all you have to do is make sure that the red meat turns brown. You can use this spoon to break it up so it’s not all clumped together.” You dumped the container of ground meat on the pan.

“Noodle, sauce, cheese, meat.” El slowly repeated the instructions that you had given her, pointing at each ingredient to double check that it was correct once the meat and noodles were ready.

“Yep, you got it.” You smiled warmly at her. She apprehensively grabbed the noodles and laid them on the sauce that was at the bottom of the pan. Once placing it on the sauce her eyes darted back to me unsure if she was doing it properly. “Good job,” A smile formed on her lips.

“Y/N…” El started a few minutes after you two had put the dish in the oven.

“Yeah?”

“What is...love?” She looked up to you and waited for your answer. How the fuck were you supposed to explain love to a fourteen year old kid who didn’t really know any social aspects of society.

“Love is…” You thought for a second how to word it. “A feeling that you get about someone else or something else. Someone that you care about and would do anything for. There are different kinds of love though. There’s love when you love your friends and family, where you’ve been through the best of times and the worst of times with. They’re the people you would want to be with when things go bad for you. You’re there for them and they’re there for you. Then there is romantic love. That’s where you have a friend, your best friend, but you like them more than a friend. Your heart races when you’re with them, they can make you smile when you don’t want to smile. All you want to do is hug, kiss, and be with them. You accept them for the things that you may not really like about them or that they don’t like. When you’re old enough and in love with someone, you can start a family with them It’s what everyone lives for. It’s one of the best feelings in the world”

“Do you love Jim?” She questioned, trying to get a fuller understanding of it.

“Of course I do. I’ve never been happier with anyone else. He’s the most caring and brave man that I’ve ever met. He’s been through so much heartache in his life that I’m so grateful that he hasn’t given up on anything. A lot of people would have given up if they were in his shoes. I’m so proud of everything he does, not only for me, but for you. It may not seem like it now, but he does care a lot about you. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, ever, so he’s doing the best he can to protect you from all that. You’re like a daughter to him.” You confessed to her, praying that it all clicked in her head. You knew that she was having some trouble being confined to the cabin.

“I’m a daughter to him?” She paused, her thoughts catching up with her. “Is he...my dad?”

“You don’t have to share blood to be family.” You told her. Her face stared back quizzically, still not understanding. “The thing that makes family family is their blood, it’s all the same. But, you don’t have to have the same blood to be family.”

“Like Jim and I.” El connected the pieces. “Does that make you my mom?”

“Oh, I, uh--” You were interrupted by the secret knock indicating that Hopper was home. You got up to go unlock the door and open it for him. A smile was instantly put on his face while he walked in and gave you a welcoming kiss. It’d been a few days since you were over there and he missed having you around.

“Hello, darling,” He cockily greeted you. “Hey there, kiddo! What’s that smell?” He went into the kitchen to investigate the smell.

“Lasagna.” El informed him. Jim’s eyes went from Eleven to you.

“You made dinner for us?” He asked you looking slightly taken aback.

“I only made the noodles and worked the appliances. El did everything else.” He gazed at Eleven with a proud grin.

“I can’t wait to taste it. She makes killer Eggos, so the lasagna is gonna be the same way.” He went over and gave her a hug and held her tight making your heart melt at the sight.

“It should be ready in about five minutes.” You noted after opening the oven to check on it.

“Kid, why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner. Y/N and I will get everything ready.” El nodded and made her way into the bathroom leaving you and Hopper alone for a few minutes.

Once the door shut, his arms went around you, bringing you close until your hips were pressed up against each others. You smiled up him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. He brought his hand up to push stray hair behind your ear. His thumb was trailing along your jawline to keep brushing against your bottom lip.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He pondered aloud.

“I love you,” You told him, giving him another kiss. This one was longer and more affectionate. His hands were roaming your back and yours went to get lost in his hair. The timer on the oven went off making you pull apart from him much to his dismay.

“You’re gonna kiss me like that, then leave me?” He feigned being upset while you pulled the oven mitts on your hands to get the food from the oven.

“We can finish later, I promise.” You smirked at him. “Until then, just sit and relax, dinner is coming right up.” He rolled his eyes and began to set the table for the meal. Eleven soon came out of the bathroom and we were all ready to taste her food.

“Okay,” Jim’s eyes were going to El and you. “On the count of three. One...two...three!” The three of you shoveled a scoop of lasagna into your mouths.

“This is better than when I make it!” You confessed after swallowing the food.

“Eleven, this might just be the tastiest damn thing I’ve ever had. I love it!” Hopper exclaimed making her grin.

“It’s good. Very good!” El concurred.

After your shower you headed to Jim’s room with the towel wrapped around your body. He was reading El a bedtime story while you got ready for bed. You grabbed a pair of panties from your drawer of his dresser and slid them up your legs. Throwing the towel aside, you put on a long sleeved shirt of his and and pair of shorts. Sighing, you absentmindedly ran your hands over your smooth legs waiting for him to come back. As if on que he opened the bedroom door and closed it behind him. You smiled at him while he flopped down on the bed with you. His smile failed to match his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” You asked him, scooting closer to him.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged it off before running his hand up your leg like you had been doing previously. He was trying to avoid the question. But, if there was one thing you knew about Jim Hopper is that when something is bothering him, it really bothers the crap out of him.

“Hop?” You pressed again looking directly in his eyes.

“It’s El,” He muttered.

“What happened?”

“Did you, uh, did you talk to her earlier?”

“Yeah I did. She asked about love and I explained it to her.” You told him.

“Anything else?”

“I told her how much I loved you.” You added.

“Y/N, she called me ‘dad’.” He whispered and swallowed the lump in his throat. He looked like he was happy, going to cry, and going to be sick all at the same time. His eyes held so much hurt in them.

“I told her that you loved her like a daughter.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Look, Jim, I don’t care what you think, you do love that girl.”

“I know I do.” He stopped you from continuing. “I just...I don’t know. It feels like I’m trying to replace Sara with her and I feel so damn guilty about it. I mean, I love my little girl to the moon and back…” He trailed off, trying his hardest to not cry. You sat up and rubbed his arm empathetically.

“You’re not replacing Sara, I promise you that. She would be so proud of you for what you’re doing with El. It’s okay to have people you love other than her. Eleven is so lucky to have someone as caring as you. You hardly knew the girl when you brought her in, but you didn’t care. You could have left her out in the cold for Brenner to find her. You didn’t. You are a good man, Hop, and you know that.” You assured him with honesty dripping off each word. He stared back up at you and gave you a loving kiss.

“You always know the right things to say.”

“That’s because I know you.” You chuckled. “And I know right now, you want to be having some adult fun with me right now.”

“I love you so much!” He laughed and went in for a passionate kiss, pushing you back to lay down on the bed with him above you. “Now, let me show you how much I love you.” His lips went to your jawline and began making their way down your body showing how much he did love you.