#but agave does as she does all the same

[poetryqueer]

rotating uvm’s pentheus in my mind always

[luveline]

JADEEEE I love roan so much can we please have a mother daughter day??? And Roan tells everything they did to Eddie as soon as they get home and he’s just so happy that you love roan so much !!!!!

thank you for your request! dad!eddie x (nearly step)mom!reader

"What is it called again?" Roan asks. 

You smile down at her little beatific grin, knowing that she knows and knowing that she wants you to say it again. "It's called a mother-daughter day. Where moms and their daughters spend the whole day doing mom and daughter stuff, like manicures and haircuts and coffee. Or, cake. No coffee for you, princess."

Eddie's blow dried Roan's hair so that almost all of her curls agave been straightened, and the dark length of it fans over her shoulders, soft as spun silk. He dropped you and Roan off in the centre of Hawkins town to spend a day with Wayne (that you called a father-son day, and he called chores day —Wayne's not taking me out for shopping and treats, sweetheart, he's gonna break my back in the yard).

The very first port of call, you decide, is hair. You take Roan into a quiet hair stylist's where you'd made two appointments, her smaller hand swinging in yours. The room is cool but inviting, and it doesn't take much convincing to get her into one of the chairs. 

"What do we want?" the hairdresser asks, bending down on Roan's left and meeting her eyes in the mirror. 

You do the same to her right. "We don't want much cut off, do we, Ro?" 

You'd already talked about it with her yesterday, wanting to make sure she doesn't have anything done that she doesn't want, or anything Eddie doesn’t approve of. 

"No, just the little bit," Roan says. 

"Can she have a wash and blow dry, too?" you ask. "She has the most beautiful curls when it's dry. We only did it like this today so she could see how much was being cut off." 

The hairdresser agrees with gusto. A second hairdresser comes along to do your hair, and it's a good thing you'd wanted Roan to have the full treatment, because you almost mess your own up constantly by turning in your chair to speak with Roan's hairdresser about what it is their doing. 

When you're finished, you're not shy about standing watch. The hairdresser is a sweetheart, fawning over Roan's pleased face as she rubs shampoo into her scalp over the sink. "Hey, Ro," you greet, "you look like you're enjoying yourself." 

"Hi, mom." 

"She's as good as gold," the hairdresser praises, "she's so polite." 

Roan shies away at the praise, worse when you agree. "She's my greatest love," you confess, "that's why I'm spoiling her today, because she deserves it for being so good all the time." 

Roan absolutely still tantrums. She misbehaves as every kid does, she hates vegetables, she makes those silly potions in the bathroom and she breaks things on purpose. But she's still a great kid. She deserves more than a special day. You'd treat her to this stuff all the time if you could. 

When Roan's hair has been dried and moussed with a diffuser, you pay your (unfortunately large) debts and compliment her all the way to the cafe. 

"Sweetheart, you look so beautiful, I wish I could show your dad right now, your curls haven't looked this bouncy and shiny in ages," you say, stroking a rogue one from her cheek. 

"I think you look beautiful, too," she says, almost walking into a woman coming from the cafe door. 

You pull her into your legs to avoid collisions and lead her through the door. "Thanks, baby," you say. If you were at home you'd grab her up, kiss her chubby cheeks, and maybe cry a little bit, but instead you take her to a nice table and buy her two different slices of over-expensive cake. One slice of triple chocolate fudge cake, and one slice of toffee cake with caramel buttercream. You tuck napkins into the collar of her nice dress and tie her hair back, fingertips sliding gently against her scalp as you pull it away from her face. She's extremely enthusiastic, spoon to her mouth before you've managed two loops of her scrunchie. 

"Eat up, princess," you say, stroking her shoulders clean of lint and stray hairs. "We have a super busy day still waiting for us." 

And the day is super, super long. It's night time by the time you and Roan get home via Hawkins lone taxi cab. Poor Eddie's literally waiting on the porch swing. 

"Holy crap, girls, I thought you were gonna call me," he says, rushing down the path to help with your shopping bags. 

"Dad, you're not supposed to see how much money mom spended," Roan declares, running around him on the path with a couple of bags in her clutches. "Don't worry, I'll hide them!" 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, waiting until you've thanked the driver and started up the path before asking, "I'm not supposed to see how much money you spent?" 

"That's a joke," you say. "You know, it happens on TV. I thought it was part of the mommy-daughter experience." 

"Oh, gotcha." He sidles in close to you as you take the few steps up to your door, not-so-subtly taking the shopping bags out of your left hand. "You look fucking beautiful, in case you don't know. Your hair is so pretty." 

"They barely did anything to my hair." You're not disparaging your stylist, she did exactly as you asked. It looks the same as always, but freshened up. 

"And yet." 

You step into the house and shut the door behind you. Eddie places your bags off to the side and turns to you for a hug rather than a kiss. He's maddeningly sweet like that. He hugs you so tightly that your back crunches. 

"Missed you�� Thank you for taking her out today. I love how much you love her," he says against your cheek, punctuating with a quick kiss. "I thought you'd be home hours ago." 

"How was Wayne?" you ask through laughter. 

"Healthy enough to put me to work." 

You cup his cheek. "And how are you?" 

"Tired. Please tell me you bought me a present." 

"We bought you lots of presents," you say. "You might want to sit down." 

Eddie grins like a kid at Christmas, sweeping the bags into one arm and all but yanking your wrist from its socket as he pulls you to the living room with the other. You laugh as the two of you collapse into the couch, Eddie shouting, "Roan, come back, sweetheart! You don't have to hide anything you've got, just let me see your hair!" He rubs your arm. "She went off so fast I didn't see it. Have they scalped my girl?" 

Roan tramples back down the stairs like a stampede all by herself. She races around the couch and onto the armrest on Eddie's side, a struggle but one she manages with enthusiasm. 

"Okay, daddy, lookit. Mom told them to give me the sparkles and stuff," —she holds up her hands to showcase her painted nails— "aren't they the prettiest ever? Ever ever?" 

Her nails are small, and every inch has been decorated. Black polish at her own insistence encrusted with pink-white gems that sparkle when she wiggles them. Eddie likes her nails, but he loves her hair, combing her hair with two gentle hands at once. "Aw, sweetheart," he murmurs, "you look so pretty, they've given you your curls back." He looks at you. "How did they do that? I swear her curls don't bounce up like that even when I try my hardest anymore." 

You lift a bag into his lap. "I got some stuff on the hairdresser's recommendation. We can do it at home." 

He holds her little face carefully. "It's like when she was a baby." 

"Dad," Roan says severely, pulling his hands from her face, "we don't have time for crying. You haven't seen my new dresses." 

He pulls himself together with the help of your comforting hand on his thigh. "I'm not crying, you just look so pretty, Roro. And forget dresses, I want presents." 

"Y/N took me to Masy Daisy." 

Eddie looks at you out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe I don't want to know how much you spent after all." 

"It wasn't so bad, handsome," you say warmly, dropping your cheek into his shoulder. "They really were beautiful. Every one she tried on…" 

"How many did she try on?" he asks, like he’s scared of the answer.

"Just a couple… with matching shoes. And cardigans.”

Eddie sighs and leans back. “Best get the fashion show started, Roanie. Sounds like we’re gonna be here a while.”

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Madam is so overexposed I know more about her cooking/dietary habits than I could ever want to by u/Training-Jello7600

Madam is so overexposed I know more about her cooking/dietary habits than I could ever want to Wannabe foodie Meghan is my favorite of all her eras. It was right before Harry; she was desperately looking for her third (fourth? fifth?) act and sleeping her way into the Toronto food scene and writing some of the most godawful prose ever committed to page on that blog. I enjoy seeing someone so basic and cringe attempt to pivot from a lackluster acting career into an even more lackluster career as a foodie guru influencer.(As a side note, it’s telling and ironic that the most successful and uplifting content of her life was the “Together” cookbook, made when she was a working royal. Looks like the Palace knows what they are doing after all!)In honor of foodie Meghan, and in anticipation of whatever she’s about to unleash on us on her Instagram if it ever does indeed launch, I’ve compiled a perfect day of eating for the Meg.Breakfast:- For madam: After barking at her maids to clean up the broken crockery from the night before, she tucks into “A cup of hot water and a slice of lemon, followed by her favourite breakfast of steel-cut oats (usually made with almond or soy milk) with bananas and agave syrup for sweetness” (a line from the Pulitzer-winning “Finding Freedom”)For the three children (Todger Cream included): First a serving of inspirational bananas with messages such as “stay strong” (they’re gonna need it in that household!) on the peel. Then organic waffles on the Queen’s waffle maker. It’s shocking we don’t know the brand and that it hasn’t been merched yet, but there’s always time.Lunch:- A “mean bolognese” (Megain’s words), most likely Chef Corey’s recipe but repurposed for ensnaring Harry, who was impressed with her apparently amazing use of spicesFor the kids: In-N-Out milkshakes because she’s a cool relatable young mother of littlesSnack:- For the kids: Quesadillas served in a poverty backpack for the unhousedFor the man child: Vegetables from the garden and try-hard jam with Etsy labels that they haven’t been able to foist onto more unfortunate journos For Madam: A Clevr SuperLatte with a foam of trace lead and other earth metalsDinner:- Sushi appetizer for her while Harry sulks that there isn’t a steak option. He whines so much that she whips up her signature invisi-tacos a la Michelle Obama and puts Nando’s Peri-Peri sauce on them to remind him of the time she ate a three course meal while also on an epidural/bouncing on an exercise ball at the same timeAn engagement roast chicken for the main; Ina still hasn’t called but she’s holding out hope for a collabSome plant-based/pretentious sides with the latest pseudoscientific healthy merchable ingredients That f*cking lemon olive oil cake made with lemons from her trees (that if I hear about one more time I’m going to explode)Several bottles of Tignanello, our Saint’s ambrosia of enlightenment Late Night Snack:- Ozempic a la modeThere you have it! Let me know if I missed any of our Saint’s favorites. post link: https://ift.tt/mFKz8Ms author: Training-Jello7600 submitted: January 12, 2024 at 09:24PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[robbybirdy]

Baking therapy on a budget Ft. Genshin Characters: Keqing - Almond Pulp Cookies

Hello, every birdy. Today we are going to be doing zero waste. If you read the last post you will know that we have some unused almond pulp, from the almond milk. This is a really simple recipe. The original recipe is  vegan and gluten free. However, I am going to share with you what I used because as most of you know I like to use ingredients that I already have in my house, and i don’t like going to the grocery store to get one or two things. Especially if I know I am not going to be using them. 

Before I forget and neglect the character in question like I do in the game. Keqing (ka-ching, $$$) is a significant character in Liyue’s archon quest. She is one of Ninngaun’s helpers. As we have seen in the Stove God Event, Keqing does in fact love food and is not just a workaholic. I was unable to get any shrimp at this time or I would have tried to make one of her favorite dishes, because honestly, that is one of my favorite dishes as well, Golden Shrimp Balls. Even though she says that Almond Tofu is not her favorite food, These cookies are not anything like tofu. 

The ingredients that you will need for this recipe are:

1 ½ cups almond pulp (this is equal to 1 batch of almond milk, which uses 1 cup of almonds)

1 cup rolled oats

½ cup maple syrup, agave syrup or what I did was make a simple syrup with hot water and sugar

½ cup of either almond butter or peanut butter ( i used peanut butter)

¼ cup of ground chia seeds or ground flax seeds - this is equivalent to 1 egg (Which is what i used)

1 Tablespoon of coconut oil, or margarine (I know not the healthist and right now its not really the cheapest thing at the store but it was what I had in the fridge at the time of making this.)

2 teaspoons of vanilla

½ salt 

Optional things you can add

½ cup chocolate chips

½ raisins -this is what i choose 

¼ cup of unsweetened shredded coconut

This recipe is an easy recipe that you can switch out ingredients to make them according to your diet. I had no reason to make this recipe vegan, but it can be made that way if that is your diet. 

You want your almond pulp to have dryed in the fridge for about a day. If you use it right away it will be to wet to work with. 

The first thing you will want to do is preheat your oven to 350 F. Prepare 2 large cookie sheets with parchment paper or silicon baking mats, if you are working in a conventional oven. If you are using a convection oven, reduce the temperature to 325 F and spray your pan, and do not use parchment paper. It will take a lot longer, but the cookies will taste the same.

Next, I combined an egg and the simple sugar to a small bowl and mixed them.  

In another medium sized mixing bowl you are going to mix together the almond pulp and you have to make sure that you have gotten rid of all of larger chunks with a fork. Once you have all of that done you are going to add in the oats and salt, and stir everything together. 

To the egg mixture you are going to add the peanut butter, margarine and vanilla making sure to mix well. 

Now, we are going to add the peanut butter mixture to the almond pulp mixture and stir until everything is absorbed. Once everything is combined you are going to add in your add-ins. 

Use a large spoon to drop the cookie dough onto your prepared cookie sheet. Make sure to flatten each of the cookies. 

Bake the cookies for 350F for about 13 minutes or just until the edges start to brown. Cool them on the baking sheet for about 5 minutes before removing.

These cookies were really good, and I just left them on the coffee table in the living room. It did not take long for the cookies to go. Which is a good sign, because my family is known to tell me when they don’t like something. 

I hope that you liked this recipe.  Feel free to check it out for yourself. See you in the next post. Thank you.

Recipe: Here

Almonds to Zucchini 

[if-i-had-a-voice-i-would-sing]

Since my 7th show I’ve had brainworms about potential future Punchdrunk shows based off Greek myth & literature (there’s SO much to work with!!) and here’s an idea that I jotted down and now can’t get out of my head:

The Burnt City is based off Agamemnon and Hecuba, what if their next show was based off Medea and The Bacchae?

One show about female grief & women sacrificed for men, and the next about female madness & mothers killing their sons

- parallel scenes of Medea murdering her sons (who’d have to be aged up somewhat into adults, due to the nature of most punchdrunk productions) and Agave murdering Pentheus.

- Parallel scenes where the crimes of the women are exposed to the men in their lives (the reveal to Jason vs the reveal to Cadmus)

- Influence of Hecate vs influence of Dionysus, lots of fun contrast & similarity to be played around with here

- Reoccurring theme of women’s freedom from oppression being in the rejection of the role of ‘mother’

- Both plays are very centred around the patriarchal fear of women banding together - both choruses are female peers, as opposed to the judgemental old men of Mycenae in Agamemnon. They are people who can be confided in and relied upon by our female leads. A linked theme again of female solidarity, community organisation & radical action against the oppressor.

- Two cities again - Corinth and Thebes ; could divide them by the forest, in which bloody rites for chthonic gods take place

- Could choose to continue the Hades & Persephone lore by having them present - if tbc is her welcome home, could this be her goodbye gift? Imagine having proper Persephone/Hecate interactions. Imagine!

- The murder of Pentheus could very well be the classic punchdrunk rave scene, a lot like the blinding of Polymestor with a touch of the witches’ prophecy in Sleep No More

- Dionysus as a presence would allow for some really fun & creative setpieces - a club? A bar? A rave in the woods? All of the above? We all know how good punchdrunk’s bartender characters are!

- Because of the heavily gendered nature of the texts, the forest as a midground for gender binaries too would be so cool. In the cities there are binary rules and gender roles to be played, but in the forest gender boundaries blur and become unimportant. See: Pentheus’ crossdressing, Dionysus’ androgyny

Not really an idea or note, but I can imagine the loop for Glauce being really heartbreaking, a lot like Iphigenia’s. A young girl excited for her wedding to a famous hero, only to be horribly murdered to serve the goal of another. She was innocent in all of this, but Medea casts her aside all the same, as Clytemnestra does Cassandra. Also imagine how creative they could get with Glauce’s (and Creon’s) death! Melting & then catching on fire doesn’t seem in any way possible, but that frees up room to choreograph around the feel of the text instead, with a lot more freedom of interpretation.

Imagine being able to just follow the Maenads in the woods for a full loop. I can’t even begin to think of all the wild shit they could get up to - think of the choreography!! The ritual! The blood!!

Punchdrunk historically have portrayed complex women well - look at Clytemnestra and Lady Macbeth. These women are morally dubious and they get their hands dirty (very literally), but there is also so much compassion to the way they are shown in their more vulnerable moments, they are human and flawed yet still worthy of our attention and care. This is an approach I would really love to see for Medea, who I think is such a difficult character to get right in terms of not shying away from her more reprehensible actions, whilst still understanding her pain and turmoil.

Agave is given a lot less to do in the source material, but the great thing about the immersive format is that it allows for each character to become their own fully fleshed out person. Maids and oracles, waitresses and witches, they all get their own story *within* the greater narrative. This also goes for Cadmus and Creon, the father figures, who I think could both be really fascinating to flesh out, and of course Aegeus, whose only primary in the source is being childless and wanting to be a father. The contrast of the would-be parent vs the actual reality of parenthood.

Potential for a sick ass finale with the women of Corinth and the women of Thebes coming together in combined ritual power, the workings of Hecate and of Dionysus side by side, contrasting and connecting…

I am heavily biased because these are my two favourite Greek tragedies, and my favourite plays in general, and I would love nothing more than to see my favourite theatre company tackle them next!

[jerzwriter]

18: Favorite beverage? 19: What do they think about before falling asleep at night? 22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? 39: Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

For all your pairs. Thank you!

Hey @kyra75! For all! You're not going easy on me, are you? lol JK JK Here goes:

Favorite Beverage:

Carolina (COP): Coffe, black. If she's making it herself, or Uncle Tommy is making it? Cafe con leche. No one else does it right. Trystan (COP): Agave Mojito Smoothie from Agavi Organic Juice Bar in NYC. ( Pineapple, lemon, banana, mint, raw agave, and coconut water. He gets it with a B12 infusion and goji berries).

Casey (OH): She hates to admit it, but Diet Coke. She also loves a good chai latte. Tobias (OH): I kind of wrote a fic about his weird ass tea order. lol it wasn't supposed to be canon, but let's go with that. I also think he's one of those annoying people that actually likes water (and it will piss Casey off lol)

Kaycee (OH): Hot chocolate, or sweet wines. Ethan (OH): I mean.. Scotch followed by coffee. That's canon. lol

Eli, Zoe, Troy (WTD): In this world, it's whatever the hell they can get. If they get clean water, they're happy. When the Sunflowr Creek crowd introduces them (well at least Z and T) to fruit juice, they're elated.

More Below...

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Carolina (COP): Did she lock the door? Turn the stove off? What about the iron? Did she leave the water running? Or the fridge door open? And poor dear often gets up to check... until Trystan starts staying over. He's like "OK we've got to introduce you to melatonin." Trystan (COP): On a good night? Carolina. On a bad night? Juliana, Seb, and things he'd love to forget.

Casey (OH): Tobias or their girls. Tobias (OH): Casey or their girls. NOTE: That's when they're thinking of anything; often, they just pass out - happily.... 😏

Kaycee (OH): Usually what she has on her agenda first thing in the morning. She makes mental lists to make sure she's ready for what she has planned. Ethan (OH): See Kaycee's... but he's throwing in a 5:00 AM jog. She's throwing in a wondering why when ever agreed to be with a man who gets up for 5:00 AM jogs in there....

Zoe (OH): She likes it best when she is exhausted and just passes out. Like all others in her world, there has been too much trauma so thoughts before sleep are often not good. Eli (OH): Ironically, he used to be the same. But when he's going to sleep with Zoe, the bad thoughts never come.

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

Carolina (COP): Answered for her here. Trystan (COP): He's either doodling or writing notes to Carolina.

Casey (OH): Hearts, stars, bunnies, and yes, goofy little hearts with "Tobias & Casey." He tells her she's still an adolescent but finds it adorable. Tobias (OH): Probably nothing; he always has something to read, and that's his preference. But he might make lists or write notes to Casey.

Kaycee (OH): Song lyrics that are stuck in her head. Things she needs from the store, goofy notes to Ethan. Ethan (OH): For the longest time, it's practical... lists, plans, things to do. But after he takes up painting, there is a 50/50 chance you'll find him sketching something he wants to do.

Zoe (WTD): She is drawing 100%. Canon says she's a good drawer, and I wrote that into my HC, so that's what she's doing. Eli (WTD): It's canon that he is NOT a good drawer. lol So I think he ignores the pen and paper and looks for his bow to get back to maintenance. lol

Would you say that they have a superiority complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

Carolina (COP): Neither. She is extremely confident when it comes to most things, but not in an unhealthy way. She's aware of her foibles and her humanity. Trystan (COP): He does have a bit of a superiority complex when it comes to many, but not all, things. But it's not in a toxic, narcissistic way. It's was more of a defense mechanism most of his life that he's left in place, but in a humorous way.

Casey (OH): Casey can be confident, but that was a hard-fought battle. She can be terribly insecure at times, but she keeps it hidden so only those closest to her know that. Tobias (OH): Well... lol. Yeah, our boy has a bit of a superior complex. It's gotten a little better since he's gotten older and Casey whipped his ass into shape. But he still thinks pretty highly of himself.

Kaycee (OH): Neither, she's a good balance. Ethan (OH): Uhm. Yeah, he has a superiority complex, but only in some areas. Work? 100%. Personal life, he has a bit of an inferiority complex.

Zoe (WTD): She can be very confident, but not in an unhealthy way. But when she closes the door to her room, she has to learn to stop the self-doubt. Eli (WTD): He can be very over-confident and sarcastic, but he really doesn't have a complex other than a "people need to stop annoying me" complex. lol

Thanks for the asks - Kyra! <3

[caracteresolaires]

20-26 for two ships of your choice!

:D thank you Tabby!!! i'm gonna cheat and do three c:

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

TIFFANY & NICK: Both are fundamentally helpful people and so they try their hardest to comfort the other, and are pretty intuitive about what works best, honestly. Tiffany can ease stress with her healing abilities, but even if she's not actively healing, a cool hand on his forehead will do nicely. Nick acts as a calming presence, but he's good at getting her to talk, and helping her process exactly what she's feeling. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia's natural instinct is to touch people; depending on the stage of their relationship, Atlas' immediate response to that is to tense up further (he's not used to this). Eventually, he gets used to her and her touch does what it's supposed to (calm him down). When she's upset, he will embrace her, which she greatly appreciates. ARABELLA & SILAS: These two have known each other for decades, and even though they've been apart for twenty-five years, they still know each other better than themselves. Silas knows that Arabella needs space; Arabella knows Silas needs a simple distraction, then a long drive with someone he can talk to.

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

TIFFANY & NICK: Nick does. He wants a house. Tiffany has a wagon, which is pretty close; she doesn't want a full house though, at least not now. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Both Atlas and Alessia are homebodies, so they both like being at home - that said, they aren't very domestic people (especially Alessia). But home is a sanctuary for both of them. ARABELLA & SILAS: No, not really. Vampires tend to roam around. Silas' gang has a base of operations in Agave City, but they still roam around a lot; Arabella moves from motel to motel every few months.

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

TIFFANY & NICK: Once they open up to each other, yes. Tiffany doesn't mind a bit of playful ribbing, and Nick finds he's a pretty amicable, playful man (once he's not under the thumb of a strangling religious cult). ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia tolerates some teasing, but not much. She is free, however, to tease as much as she likes. Atlas doesn't mind, but the double-standard is a little annoying. ARABELLA & SILAS: Neither of them are all that playful to begin with, but neither one will bat an eye at a little joke to the other, as long as it's not a sore subject (which they would never).

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

TIFFANY & NICK: Service is the strongest - they are both people with a strong desire to help others. Both are self-sacrificing and devoted, both have a need to be understood by someone like them (so it's good they found each other). There's a big theme of like, initially seeming opposite (in personality, not goal) but through opposition realizing the core of the other person is similar, if not the same. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Safety and comfort are their primary themes. Alessia has led a very exciting life before this, but now she's looking for someone more stable and calm to ground her; meanwhile, Atlas is (albeit unconsciously) seeking more excitement in his life. Both find what they're looking for in the other, and work to keep each other safe (more Atlas' game) and comfortable (more Alessia). This is also the first time either of them have been in a real romantic relationship, so there's an air of discovery too. ARABELLA & SILAS: Forgiveness, 100%. Forgiving yourself, forgiving each other, and accepting the other's forgiveness - especially for Arabella, who made a big mistake in the past and can't accept that he's forgiven her. :lays down:

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

TIFFANY & NICK: They compliment and clash at the same time :) He's an Aquarius, she's a Leo, but they have each other's Suns as their Risings (so Leo Sun/Aquarius Rising for Tiff and Aquarius Sun/Leo Rising for Nick), meaning there is a deep understanding and also a polar opposition working in tandem. What results is a devoted relationship punctuated by philosophical arguments, but it's okay. They love each other. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Alessia is the dominant force in the relationship - not to say that Atlas is a pushover, but he's pretty easy-going, so doesn't mind her pulling him along. They're both very stubborn, though, so if there was ever a large disagreement they'd butt heads. They don't disagree that fiercely very often though. ARABELLA & SILAS: Overall they compliment each other; Silas is a very, very patient man, and Arabella needs that patience.

25. Do they share a room/house? If so, what does it look like and how does it compliment their personalities?

TIFFANY & NICK: Yeah! They live in a teeny wagon together - it's her wagon so it mostly reflects her. He'll add to it, though, and Tiffany is happy to let him. ATLAS & ALESSIA: Atlas moved in with Alessia and so far he's really only made the kitchen his own; that and his rooftop garage, but the apartment itself? Very much Alessia's. ARABELLA & SILAS: They do not, though Arabella moves into the vampire gang's motel about halfway through. She's very spartan, no memorabilia. Silas is more sentimental and has keepsakes in a room, but they don't share.

26. What sacrifices do they make for the other?

TIFFANY & NICK: If they had their druthers all they would do is sacrifice for the other, but one major aspect is Tiffany eventually getting used to the idea of "home and family" (which is Nick's great Need). It's something she has a hard time getting used to, but she'll do it for him. ATLAS & ALESSIA: They make small adjustments all the time, but neither sees it as a sacrifice. I mean, okay, he is willing to take Darkness Power to keep her safe, but in the day-to-day, they just adjust to each other without much fuss. ARABELLA & SILAS: Arabella is a very independent person, and Silas doesn't impede on that. I don't think he wants to, but he does want to make sure she's safe - but, he lets her have her own life, and never forces anything. That would be cruel.

[samucl-kane]

👄 + julia

"Julia is such a light to my day.

When I happen to see her, that is. Our schedules often conflict. I have day hours, she seems to do afternoons, evenings and mids. I do worry the birds might wake her, but they aren't horribly rambunctious. And they like her too, especially Agave. He favors her, and that's a good sign."

It always is, and maybe Sam shouldn't, but he does act off of the judgment of his birds. Save for the time Dallas rescued them from the apartment fires, they were frantic and Sam couldn't blame them.

"Really, I couldn't ask for a better roommate. She is one of the kindest people I have met. And extremely brave for the work she does. It can't be easy, I know I could never do it. I would bring all of it home, and it would eat me up. But Julia goes in day after day, facing some of the hardest things, and she comes back still so light."

"If I could have been half as resilient as her, I would have accomplished so much in my life. I envy her, but I admire her in the same breath."

@drjuliasato

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

We live in a community named Vermillion. Vermillion is located twenty minutes from Charlotte, North Carolina. Our neighborhood is a wonderful place to walk in pursuit of our daily stepping goals.

I remember my first solo walk in Vermillion. I made it as far as Donahue Street which is about a half mile from our house on Serenity Street. By the time I reached Donahue, I felt as if I had walked twenty miles. I was in bad shape still recovering from radiation.

During the past five years, I have regained much of my stamina thanks in large part to strolls in Vermillion. I've walked past Donahue many times but never up or down the street itself.

Yesterday in our walk, we once again passed by Donahue Street on the way out. On the way back, we encountered a stranger. She stopped us and told us what she had seen on Donahue Street. She showed us a picture of a century plant that she hadtaken on her phone. She claimed it bloomed only once a century and recommended that we take a look. She filled us in regarding some of the research she had done after discovering the Donahue Street wonder.

The century plant, also known as Agave americana, is a succulent plant native to the arid regions of Mexico and the southwestern United States. Despite its name, the century plant does not take a hundred years to bloom but rather around 10 to 30 years, depending on growing conditions.

The century plant is a large, symmetrical rosette of thick, fleshy leaves that can grow up to 6 to 8 feet (1.8 to 2.4 meters) in length. The leaves are bluish-green in color and have sharp spines along the edges. While the century plant takes several years to reach maturity and bloom, it typically lives for about 10 to 30 years. After blooming, the plant usually dies, but it produces offshoots called "pups" that can grow into new plants. When the century plant reaches its blooming stage, a tall flowering stalk, known as an inflorescence, emerges from the center of the rosette. This stalk can reach impressive heights of up to 20 to 30 feet (6 to 9 meters) and is adorned with clusters of yellow flowers.

Agave plants are often seen as symbols of strength and resilience due to their ability to thrive in harsh, arid environments. Their ability to survive and flourish despite challenging conditions is seen as an inspiration for human resilience and endurance.

We could most def relate.

We proceeded to the yet undiscovered realm of Donahue Street. Instead of passing by, we walked a few houses up the street. The incline is steep and was the reason why we hadn't venture on the street before.

We walked about fifty yards up Donohue and there it was.

Lynn took out her phone and snapped a couple of images. The agave was in full bloom. The bloom is a once in a lifetime event for the plant and presages its death.

Not only was this process a once in a lifetime event for the plant but also a once in a lifetime for Lynn and me.

So beautiful, so strong, so resilient, so present. The plant's tall flowering stalk and majestic bloom are clear representations of divine/ sacred energy. To view this miracle we only needed to take a few steps out of our normal pattern and listen to the words of a stranger.

We did both and got our reward.

Once again, we learned the essential lesson that we are surrounded by the miraculous yet we have a tendency to pass by and miss what is right in front of us.

Neither Vermillion nor Donahue Street nor North Carolina will ever look the same to me again. I have become enriched thanks to the encouragement of an attentive, curious, communicative neighbor/ stranger and the decision to take some advice when I thought that I had seen it all.

Later today three of our grandchildren will be visiting from Boston. I can't wait to show them the agave. They won't need seventy six years to discover its wonder and inspiration.

Reproduction: The century plant is monocarpic, meaning it flowers and produces seeds only once in its lifetime. The flowers are pollinated by bats, moths, or birds attracted to their nectar. After flowering, the plant produces numerous small seeds that can be used for propagation.

Cultivation: The century plant is popular in landscaping due to its striking appearance and drought tolerance. It prefers well-draining soil and full sun exposure. However, it is essential to give the plant ample space to accommodate its large size and avoid planting it near walkways or areas where the sharp spines could pose a risk.

Uses: Traditionally, various parts of the century plant have been utilized by indigenous cultures. The sap can be fermented to produce a drink called pulque, and the plant's leaves can be used to make fibers, such as sisal, for rope and mats.

It's worth noting that the century plant belongs to the Agave genus, which encompasses numerous other agave species with similar characteristics.

what does the agave plant symbolozeChatGPT

The agave plant, including the century plant (Agave americana), carries various symbolic meanings across different cultures. Here are some common symbolizations associated with agave plants:

Strength and Resilience: Agave plants are often seen as symbols of strength and resilience due to their ability to thrive in harsh, arid environments. Their ability to survive and flourish despite challenging conditions is seen as an inspiration for human resilience and endurance.

Protection and Defense: The sharp spines along the edges of agave leaves are interpreted as a symbol of protection and defense. They serve as a deterrent against potential threats or predators. The plant's ability to defend itself is seen as a symbol of protection and self-preservation.

Adaptation and Transformation: Agave plants have evolved unique adaptations to survive in their native environments. Their ability to store water in their fleshy leaves and withstand long periods of drought represents adaptability and transformation. Agaves can also regenerate through offshoots, symbolizing new beginnings and growth.

Purity and Purification: In some cultures, agave plants are associated with purification rituals. The extraction and fermentation of the plant's sap to produce beverages like pulque and mezcal are considered symbolic acts of purification and transformation.

Spiritual Significance: Agave plants have been incorporated into spiritual and religious practices by certain indigenous cultures. They are often connected to earth-based traditions and associated with deities or spirits of nature. The plant's tall flowering stalk and majestic bloom are sometimes seen as representations of divine or sacred energy.

It's important to note that the symbolic meanings of agave plants can vary across cultures and contexts. The interpretations mentioned here are general associations and may not encompass all cultural or individual beliefs related to the plant.

[emmysorganics]

Show Mom Some Love with Delicious Cookies

Moms and cookies are a power combo—but that doesn’t mean your mom is always the one making the cookies. You might have a mom or mother figure who has never made you cookies, and that’s totally okay too. Whether or not your mom makes cookies, every mom deserves to enjoy them. Plus, she could probably use a tasty snack, and a cookie just hits the spot. You can treat your mom to a sweet and delicious goody for Mother’s Day, her birthday, or just because—and no, you do not need to make them yourself.

The Alternative to a Homemade Cookie If you don’t want to make a big batch of cookies for your mom, or you don’t have the time, what’s your alternative? You buy them. Still, not just any cookie will do. You have to choose something that will compete with a homemade cookie with a list of good ingredients. Most moms don’t want any funny stuff in their cookies, so make sure you find an option with wholesome ingredients like coconut, chocolate chips, agave, and almond flour. These are delicious and satisfying—nothing about a coconut cookie with these ingredients says, “You should only have one.” The Perfect Mother’s Day Treat Mother’s Day is a wonderful time to treat your mom to something sweet. Cookies can be a little indulgent snack that moms worldwide can enjoy and share with theirfamilies. If you’re getting something for your mom for Mother’s Day or another special occasion, it’s important to consider the flavors she likes. Maybe your mom prefers a simple vanilla cookie or something chocolatey like a dark cacao cookie. She’ll know you really put some thought into it because she’s a mom, and moms just know these things. The Greatest Snack for On theGo Moms are always on the move. When you finally take a minute to notice what your mom does in a day, you’ll probably be amazed that she finds time to eat! A cookie is actually a really easy and delicious snack for a mom on the go. Getting your mom or the mother figure in your life great-tasting organic cookies with wholesome ingredients that are lower in sugar will give her a tasty treat to savor withher coffee. And she’ll appreciate having something on hand that satisfies her cravings and fills her tummy with nourishing ingredients like coconut and almond flour. Moms need to stay energized and ready for anything, and sometimes a cookie is just the thing to keep them going. You can show your mom—or any mother figure in your life—a little extra love with some soft and chewy cookies she’ll be happy to eat! When you’re looking for a treat for mom, just make sure it’s something she’ll like, with great ingredients that she’ll feel good about eating. That way, she feels good about sharing, too! About Emmy’s Organics There’s no better way to satisfy your sweet tooth and take care of your body at the same time than with a bag of Emmy’s Organics coconut cookies. Built on the idea that simple and straightforward ingredients make the best treats, Emmy’s provides gluten-free, vegan, and USDA organic cookies. Every one of their flavors, whether it’s Birthday Cake or Lemon Ginger, is made with nine or fewer ingredients! From the humble beginnings of a young couple selling cookies at a local farmers’ market to finding Emmy’s Organics online and in grocery stores, they’ve stayed true to their values every step of the way. From offering livable wages and supporting charities to hiring refugees, Emmy’s Organics is looking to make a difference in your pantry and their community. Check out all their flavors and find something that hits the sweet spot. Treat your mom to something sweet with Emmy’s Organics at https://emmysorganics.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/426Ysb6

[andiitom]

okay so really weird asks but i need this..! okay so a fem!mc like sharing her items with thhe first year.. uhm like her scrunchies, lotion and perfume🥰

OMG yes bestie i lowkey was already writing something like this is the best motivation for it cuz I did this a lot with my male friends!!

also sorry for being gone I been popping in perodiclly I recently had prom and graduation is like in three weeks, and I've been picking away on some asks they should be all rolling out at some point this week lol

Ace 

He's literally shaking, shitting and crying mc why won't you give him the scrunchie!? 

He'll buy a 1000 more just give him the red one with hearts literally fits his aesthetic. 

"Goddamn 'ol begging ass.. here" "Yay!" 

Won't shut up about it like he doesn't post much on his magicam but it's all he posts about for weeks. 

does use lotion like that but after Mc called him ashy he started using it more but he uses some shit like aveeno. 

then during class saw Mc pull out some neon green monstrosity she claimed to be called Waikiki Beach Coconut.

Lowkey didn't know he could smell like baked goods cuz like all his lotions previous were all scentless. 

So you telling him he could've smelt like cherry pies?? Or Strawberry pound cake? 

In the same line if using Mc's lotion Ace would love using her perfume cuz sometimes he wanna smell like 'Hawaiian Ginger' than 'Evergreen Musk' after basketball practice.

Deuce 

He doesn't put much thought into getting one of Mc's scrunchies then Ace makes a big deal about it and it's all downhill from there.  Won't out right ask but he's staring Hella hard at Mc's wrists when he see her wearing one. 

"D-do you want it?" "Yes…"

He often used his mom's lotion but they were all old lady scents and Ace bullied him into changing lotions. 

 Loves Mc's Unicorn Fruit body butter sadly she had to tell him the body butter isn't edible.

nobody cannot change my mind this man uses axe body spray. Everyone knows a dude who axe bombed the hallway in between periods and that guy is Deuce.

he wont ask for it everyday but Mc's bold bloom spray collection reminds him of his mom.

Jack

Pretends he doesn't care when Mc comes to him to complain about how the others are taking her scrunchies. 

The day Mc gives him her scrunchie he is so happy but he'll never admit it out loud..

"If you don't want it Jackie I can tak-" "NO! N..no.."

He's lived in the mountains in the Land of Pyroxene and in the Savanaclaw dorm.. so he's used to being dried and chapped but he'd only ever used some shit likr o'keeffes.

then he saw Mc put some shea butter on her elbows during PE but she ended up putting to much on her hands and asked if he wanted some

holy shit the shea butter agave lotion Mc let him use.. Jack never felt so nice and soft.

NATURAL MUSK ALL THE WAY BABY

again like Deuce but for special ocations he'll ask for anything with lavender or aromatherapy

Epel 

Huffs and puffs about it. He stares longingly at Mc's wrists anytime he sees her wearing one. 

"I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS MC!" "What..?"

He's literally the only one who uses it as a hair tie, he totally shows it off to Jack when they in classes.  

It was a while before he used Mc's lotion but got over himself when she called him dusty in earshot of Vil.

Loves Mc's cocoa butter and Vaseline but hates cuz during fall-winter Vil got in the habit of slathering Vaseline all over his face(hated when my mama died that)

it'll be a cold day in hell before he uses Mc's perfume he'd hafta be desperate to ask to use some.

like if he forgor to shower after magicshift practice and has a meeting with vil he'd ask for that flowerbomb perfume.

Sebek 

Yeah he totally doesn't care Mc gave everyone else her scrunchie.. only the common whores do that. He so doesn't care… it's not like he's crying himself to sleep over some fabric and rubber. Yeah cuz he's not losing sleep because of that. 

"Mc please be a dear and give the poor boy a scrunchie he's in shambles." "Oh.. okay Lilia…" 

So Mc just grabs his hand and puts it on him. 404 Sebek just fuckin crashed. it's funny seeing someone like Sebek wear a green floral print scrunchie.

You crazy if you don't think Sebek lathers himself with lotion; he gotta be presentable to WAKA-SAMA.

But lowkey likes the shea butter it mixes well with the cologne he uses.

he's another it will be a cold day in hell before he asks for some perfume, but then again a sucker for anything aromatherapy

[mareposie]

eden kids high school hc

They are imperial scholars (Damian was the first and he helped Anya to be the second one by getting a perfect grade)

They have this friend group with Becky, Ewen and Emile (occasionally George) they are always together and they are the most popular students in Eden.

Nobody bullies Anya because one day in middle school there was this accident and Damian said “Disrespecting Anya Forger is disrespecting me, a Desmond and you don’t want your family to be blacklisted.” + everyone knows Anya’s mother is close to Damian’s mother so they leave her alone.

Anya knows it’s BS because Damian is not close to his parents at all.

Damian knows Anya’s powers and this alone was enough to forgive her for using him for the mission, actually he even helps her because he’s angry at his father and doesn’t feel bad because he’s not the favorite son. They bonded through that a lot and they tease each other a lot in public and keep acting like they are annoyed by each other.

Damian is the school president, Ewen is the soccer team,  Emile is the Becky is in the radio club (she does announcements and says a lot of BS in the morning) and Anya is the school’s council treasurer after she tried to start a nap time club.

They have their own table in the cafeteria. They even have a stupid name like 5den or Damian and the e-boys or whatever.

They are the first ones to arrive in school and last to leave. Damian sometimes buys his coffee (dark raw coffee) and decides to treat everyone with their favorite drinks. He brings Emile his latte, Ewen his iced americano, Becky’s it girl order (venti matcha ice latte with half oat milk half almond milk and 3 teaspoon of agave syrup) and finally Anya’s hot chocolate milk with cake.

Actually he always buys her cake for their study sessions.

A lot of physical touch. They don’t mind sharing food and using the same glass, fork, spoon etc. Anya loves to draw on Damian’s hand during class, while he is focus on taking notes for the both of them. Anya notices his dry hands and put her hand cream on them. Sometimes she even put some chapstick on his lips. 

Becky puts concealer on everyone’s face whenever she spots dark circles.

Anya scolds him for sleeping late and Damian scolds her when she eats with her hands. By scolding I mean screaming “OI! YAH” and slapping each other.

Anya cried in preschool because she had no chocolate on V-Day and eversince, Damian secretly puts her expensive chocolate in her locker every year + publicly give her some and to close friends. She knows he knows that she knows but it’s a tradition anyway.

Damian hates chocolate on V-DAY because he received some with a strand of hair in it and got disgusted for life. He throws away the hundreds of chocolate boxes he gets every year. But he would totally eats Anya’s. She offered him the strangest things, she even gave him his first Tonitrus Bolt.

They both date around a lot because they don’t want to ruin their friendship but everyone knows it’s a matter of time. There’s this saying in Eden “getting punched so hard, he fell and never got up”

There was this girl who dared to call Damian Sy-on Boy and oh, she created chaos in the school. Anarchy. Anya was so pissed and Damian was even more pissed, since they are in the school council it was AWKWARD.

Anya calls him by his full name when she’s upset and vice versa. He usually calls her Forger. She actually tried to call him “Dami” once because that’s how his house staff used to call him and he fainted.

Emile and Ewen calls Anya “Boss Woman” and Jeeves calls her “Young Master’s girlfriend”. Max LOVES Anya and Bond is jealous. Melinda LOVES Anya as much as she loves Yor but that’s for another day.

Damian is a honorary Forger, he spends a lot of time in the house when he is not overworking himself to death. Yor calls him “Dami”. They always have those deep discussions with Loid and the blonde is like a father figure for him.

During parents’ meetings and other school events, Yor and Loid are present for Anya AND Damian since his parents are never there. Yor always tells everything to Melinda afterwards.

Also everyone has a crush on Dr Forger.

There was that time in preschool where Loid and Yor visited during an event and everyone was mesmerized by their looks. And someone pointed out that Anya didn’t look as good as like them and was probably adopted and poor girl cried because she’s adopted 💀

Only Becky knew the secret, then Damian. It’s a big secret.

Damian can’t read under his favorite tree in peace because she will always snuggle next to him to take a nap.

They shared a bed so MANY times it’s ridiculous. Actually the 5 of them often share a bed when they are on a trip. Ewen smuggles beer cans during the school trips and got caught so many times 💀 Anya and Becky are his favorite drink buddies because Damian and Emile go into coma sleep after one drink. Becky is always clubbing barely gets any sleep so Damian and her bonded through energy drinks.

Damian sends texts like “you up ?” at 2 am then deletes it. They have a chaotic group chat and Anya is terrible with texting because she makes a lot of typos so she only does loud audio messages. Emile is the one who takes pics and sends them on the gc. He always takes pics of the sunset and shows it to everyone like “look how beautiful our planet is, I can’t believe we’re so blessed” with shiny eyes. Damian corrects everyone’s typos in the gc. Becky is the most active in the group.

When they want to skip school, Damian is the one who calls the school and acts like a parent to say the student is sick and won’t be in class. Anya did it one time and she said “This is Anya and Anya’s mother won’t be in class today because she’s sick” and the school staff made her repeat it three times then she got a Toni lmao.

See the Prince Yuki Club in Fruits Basket ? There’s a Prince Damian club in Eden and its president is the headband girl, of course, Anya is the nation’s enemy.

There’s also a Damianya fanclub and they became ally with Prince Damian club to ruin whatever relationship Damian has. Anya is also popular because of her looks and her quirky personality but nobody beats Becky who owned the school at some point.

Every single girl Damian has dated ended up with a broken heart because they thought they could change him. Every single boy Anya has dated ended up crawling in front of her house and crying with loud music to get her back.

Actually Anya and Damian kissed several times ‘just to try’ but nobody knows.

[elucubrare]

ok, i know getting mad at Funny, "pithy" encapsulations of works on twitter is like bailing the Titanic with a champagne flute but

aeschylus: what if the gods were like...terrifying? sophocles: what if the gods were like...existential? euripides: what if the gods were just petty as fuck?

idk man, maybe this is my euripides fan coming through* but - "euripides: what if the gods were incomprehensible?" "what if the gods operated on different logic from mortals?"

i've made fun of artemis's incredibly wishy-washy "oh wow hippolytus, it's cool that you died because of your dedication to me but i gotta go, gods can't see death" in the hippolytus (though my argument there is that she heard his monologue about how it would be better if men could buy heirs instead of women existing so she doesn't like him either) but even that is part of the way euripides is thinking about divine and mortal relations -

"how can we worship gods who we would call criminals if they were mortal" is one of the most important theological questions of the time** and euripides is engaging with that - he presents an aphrodite who is incredibly willing to use and abandon phaedra to avenge a perceived slight to her divine honor and power, and a dionysus who does the same with agave (and in fact, a dionysus who leads pentheus into his worst crimes against divinity).

presenting this "pettiness" and callousness is also an argument about divinity - i would say that euripides' gods are both terrifying and existential, or terrifying because they're existential. euripides' gods, these immensely powerful forces, take note of mortals and use them as counters in their personal games and quests for honor and power. they punish the guilty, and use the innocent to do it, and barely notice the consequences - in fact, they insulate themselves from the consequences and use their divinity to justify it.

euripides puts all of this on stage and says "look at it!"

[aparticularbandit]

Agathian Backstory Pt. 7

one more chapter in backstory and then back to agave directly.

but this is all important, y’all.

i have had that last scene in my head for SO LONG, y’all.

Agatha eats, and Agatha studies, and Cian blesses her for having the good sense to finish high school before joining up with a dance company, something that has less to do with Agatha’s sense and more to do with Agatha’s failed auditions.  Cian confides that they hadn’t, that they had spent their free time between training Agatha and chemo studying to receive their GED.  They confess, too, their suspicions that Agatha’s mother did the same.  Of course, they must know that Agatha didn’t choose to finish high school first.  They must.  And yet they act as though Agatha planned ahead for…for this.

No one could have planned for this.

Cian tells Agatha to explore her options.  Sure, she can return to her company once she feels fully recovered, but it will be easy to fall into old habits again if she returns to somewhere that had been so…increasingly detrimental.  Wong could �� and would – keep an eye on her, of course, but….

They don’t say it, but Agatha knows they would rather she choose to go to college.  It is certainly one of the options they have discussed.  Of course, it wouldn’t mean she has to give up dance completely; she could find a good college that allows her to take those skills and further develop them through majoring in dance, which leaves a bit of a sour taste in Agatha’s mouth.  Studying dance in the abstract is not the same as actually dancing, and she doubts that their classes on technique will teach her anything about ballet she doesn’t already know.  She’s not particularly interested in learning other styles, either, although if she’s not joining another company, then she needn’t worry about it creeping in and corrupting her already exquisite technique.

Agatha studies for tests she never really cared for before and doesn’t care about now because Cian ruffles her hair while she does, because Cian lets her curl up and rest against their chest with her notebook while they read a book of their own and idly stroke their fingers through her hair, because every now and again when she sticks the pink nub of her eraser between her lips while she thinks (it tastes better than the tip of the pencil, and that breaks in her teeth so much more easily), she glances up and catches Cian looking at her with such fondness her own heart aches.

Between all of this, there are kisses unstolen, Agatha’s fingers learning the slopes and curves of Cian’s face, her lips finding the most perfect ways to meet against theirs, teeth finding just the right pressure to elicit a hum of approval without pricking their flesh and drawing spots of blood. The first time she drew any sound from Cian at all, she’d stopped, afraid she’d caused them pain, but they’d murmured, Don’t stop, dear, pressing their fingers lightly against her scalp.  That sound means you’re doing well. Ever after, Agatha has wanted nothing more than to bring that sound out again and seeks it in as many ways as she can.

Well.

Not nothing.

The thing is that the more Agatha tells herself this is enough, what she has is enough, the more she wants for more. She wants to feel Cian’s hands on more than just her waist, pressed soft but firm against her thin, tight shirts, and more than in her hair, cupped against the back of her head, cradling her closer to them.  Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like a want so much as a need; she needs Cian’s hands on her skin, long fingers brushing against the shapes and curves of her; needs Cian’s lips past her own, peppering kisses along her jaw, parting to nibble on her ear, to suck on her pulse; needs Cian’s entire self to ease and caress the warmth growing between her legs more and more every time they “practice” together.

So Agatha does what has worked so well for her in the past – she draws on her previous success and schemes ways to get what she wants.

~

This time, Agatha doesn’t pose her question in the kitchen.  She waits until Cian is at their most relaxed, one book in their hand, the other idly stroking Agatha’s hair as she rests against their chest, pretending to focus on mathematical equations she doesn’t hate but which can’t pull her attention from her current plans.  Eventually, she turns against them and, instead of saying their name, leans up to press a kiss to their cheek.

A moment, my love.

Cian flicks a page in their book, shuts it after another few moments that feel much longer than they should, and places it to one side before looking down at her with a smile quirking the edge of their lips.  Now, princess, you have my full attention.

Agatha’s heart warms at the pet name.  Cian only ever pulls it out when they’re “practicing”; she resists the urge to lean up and kiss them properly.  She has to focus.  Her gaze drops as she bites her lower lip.  I…I have a request.  A…a favor, if you would be so kind to indulge me.

What is it, my dear? Cian asks, brow furrowing with concern. They do not ask if something is wrong, which is a relief, and they do not promise her anything she wants, which is less of one, not that she’d hoped for that.

Cian, I….  It’s best to out with it, to not be afraid of the word, to say it as plainly as she can. Will you have sex with me?

She hears it before they can even say it, how they’ve already said – twice – that they never would, first to her mother in the hospital and then, again, the first time they’d kissed, when Agatha had brought up her concern that Cian would try to have sex with her – never, both times.

So before they can reply, and without looking up to see their expression, Agatha continues, explaining, I know you don’t see me that way, and I know I’m....  You must think I’m incredibly ugly now, with all this weight, and—

Cian reaches down, runs a finger along her jaw, and lifts her chin so that they can meet her eyes.  Agatha.  You shouldn’t say such things about yourself.

They’re true.  Agatha averts her gaze but does not move from Cian’s touch.  But that’s not all of it, Cian, it’s—  She refuses to admit her crush, refuses to admit that she’d lied when she said she didn’t love them, refuses because she believes that being truthful about her feelings would get her nowhere.  You would never hurt me, she says instead, voice barely above a whisper, and you would stop if I needed to stop.

It isn’t that these things aren’t true.  They are, which is why Agatha is certain they will be the most effective at getting Cian to reconsider.  It’s just that her priority is less about her safety and more about getting what she wants.

At first, Cian doesn’t say anything.  Their hand curves under Agatha’s chin, fingers brushing along her jawline again, then tracing down to her throat.  Agatha’s breath hitches as their fingers continue to run along her skin, across her shoulder to her shirt sleeve, and then pause there.  When she looks up, she finds Cian’s eyes examining her curiously.  Finally, they meet her eyes again.  Is that truly why you want this, my darling?  So that I might keep you safe?

Of…of course.  Agatha’s brow furrows, and she lies with as much of her as she can, Why would I lie to you about that?

Cian nods slow, not agreeing, but accepting her answer for what it is.  Agatha, honesty is the best policy in situations like this, they begin, and in that moment, Agatha is afraid that they have figured her out, and she holds her breath until they continue, and I’m not sure….  Their voice trails off, and their hand lifts to cup her face again.

Agatha resists the urge to curve into their touch, makes sure to hold their gaze as she waits for them to continue.

Let me think about it, they say, finally.  I don’t want to hurt you.

Cian, you would never—

Not like that, Cian agrees, but you are in a very vulnerable position right now, dear.  I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not…. Their voice trails off again, but after a moment, they continue, Not taking advantage.

You’re not taking advantage of me if I ask, Cian.

That corner of their lips lifts ever so slightly.  That’s not how that works, dear. They thread their hand through her hair, stroke through easily enough.  I’ll think about it.

Agatha nods and lies again when she says, That’s all I ask, my love.  It’s the first time she can remember ever saying anything like that, calling Cian that, and she relaxes when she sees Cian’s small, small smile.  She can’t tell if it’s pride or if it causes any of the warmth in them that being called princess does in her, but she’s comforted that they don’t seem to hate it.  Then she leans up, brushes her nose against Cian’s, and does not hesitate before kissing them.

For a moment, Cian stays as they are, and Agatha is certain that they will stop her, will tell her that now is not the time.  But after a few seconds, they turn, opening to her, and she curls into their lap, just as needing and insistent as she has always been, being met with a gentleness that she does not deserve.

~

Agatha expects an answer promptly.  That’s a weird word to describe it, and she knows that it is, but it’s the word that her mother has always used when she’s wanted an answer fairly quickly – sometimes she’s said, Sooner, Ata, rather than later, but it’s the same relative meaning.  She expects an answer, if not now, then within a few hours, a couple of days, a week at most, maybe.

But a week comes and goes, and there is no response, no answer.  If anything, Cian acts as though the question has never been asked at all.  Agatha wants to try again, to bring it up again, but doesn’t want to rush Cian if they need more time – at least, that is the way she will say it to herself, but when she’s honest, she knows it has nothing to do with not wanting to rush Cian and more to do with not wanting to jeopardize her chance that Cian will say yes.

Then the second week comes and goes, and despite everything, Agatha refuses to wait another week for her answer.  She has other cards she can play to press the issue, and she’s certain, absolutely certain, that if she plays this right, Cian will agree.  They have to, or…or….

She won’t think about the or.

~

Cian tastes sweet.  Enticing. Alluring.  They always do, but this time the tang of gingersnap cookies and hot cocoa, just finished, adds to their natural flavor.  In their practice sessions, they have taken more and more often to leaning Agatha back against the arm of the couch – not that she minds, although it is growing harder and harder not to press her body against theirs, to raise the warm needing part of her to meet theirs for even the slightest amount of relief – but this time, taking the initiative, since this is meant to be practice, after all, she leans them back instead – surprised that they let her, thrilled by it.

And oh – oh, she likes this.

Agatha doesn’t know that it’s called straddling as she angles her legs on either side of Cian’s waist, as she digs her knees into the couch cushion beneath them, only knows that this presses her need against Cian’s belt buckle, which helps but not nearly as much as she wants.  It’s so much easier to have control this way, and as she bends to kiss Cian again, her hand moves to their waist in the same way that Cian’s so often moves to theirs, except that their flannel shirt has pulled up just enough that instead of finding fabric, her hand finds skin instead.

Immediately, Cian’s hand clenches tight in Agatha’s hair, but it isn’t an unpleasant sensation.  She gasps against their lips and tentatively, tentatively moves her left hand further beneath their shirt, fingers tracing their smooth skin until Cian’s whole body flinches towards her.  Their hand in her hair grows tighter as the deepest, lowest oh moves from their lips into hers.

Agatha.

Her name, breathless, against her lips.

Agatha skims her fingers along that spot again, and Cian leans back up, pressing themself against her, and that movement against where she most needs it causes her to whimper.  Cian brushes their nose against hers, eyes with pupils dilated searching hers. Agatha nods slow, lips just touching Cian’s, and murmurs, Show me more, my love.  Please. I want you to teach me.

Almost before she finishes speaking, Cian’s lips mesh against hers again, hungry, hard, and this time, when they push her back, Agatha wraps her legs around their waist so that when they move against her, it provides the smallest amount of the friction she wants.  Then she feels it – Cian’s fingers at the edge of her shirt and pushing past, their fingertips brushing against the skin of her waist, and oh, she can’t help it, the moan of desperate want breaking through her lips, only—

Only this time, Cian’s lips aren’t there to capture it, are instead pressing against her neck, and oh, the way her voice deepens more than she even knew it could as they begin to suck at her skin.

This is it, Agatha thinks.  This is the beginning of something.

Except….

Except that Cian stops, except that they run their nose up her neck, except that they only kiss the edge of her jaw in the most chaste of manners.  Do not ask more of me, my princess, they murmur, brushing their lips against hers once more, than I am ready to give.

When? Agatha asks, not meeting their lips with hers, only staring straight into their eyes, seeing her need reflected there.  Cian, you said you would think about it, and you haven’t said anything for weeks.

Cian leans back out of the loosening grip of Agatha’s legs, rests on their knees.  I’m still thinking.

How long, dear? Agatha continues, scooting back against the arm of the couch and pushing herself upright.  How long?

I don’t know—

Love, I could go to the nearest bar and find someone who would say yes immediately, but I asked you because I thought you cared enough about me to save me from the assholes who would ruin—

Agatha—

Don’t.  Agatha bites her lower lip.  Her cheeks flush a bright red.  Don’t lie to me, you know I could.  She hesitates, pushes further, And you know they would hurt me.  I heard them, sometimes, talking about how that first time always hurt, and I thought with you….  She shakes her head, pushes herself off of the couch, turns away, and wraps her arms tightly about herself.  It doesn’t matter what it might be like with you, because you won’t—

Okay.

At first, Agatha isn’t sure that she’s heard anything at all, with how softly Cian has spoken, but then they are behind her, wrapping their arms around her, resting their head on her shoulder, taking her hands in theirs, and saying it again, Okay.

Agatha doesn’t turn to them.  I don’t…I don’t mean to pressure you or push you, Cian, she says, a thrum of panic lying out beneath her heart.  I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want—

Get tested first, Cian interrupts.  Come back to me with a clean bill of health, and then whenever you are ready….  They sigh, and their warm breath rushes against Agatha’s skin, sends goosebumps down her spine.  I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.  I will try, my dearest one, but I can’t promise.

Agatha’s brow furrows.  Did you get tested?

Cian nods, rubbing their cheek against hers.  The morning after you asked, when I got out for breakfast.

I thought you took longer than you should have.  Agatha turns her head just enough to meet their eyes.  You’re sure? You won’t….  I’m not forcing you to—

Cian cuts her off with a gentle kiss.  You asked, they murmur, and if you are so insistent on finding someone else, then….  They brush their nose against hers again.  Forgive me, my love, for wanting you wholly for myself.

There’s a moment, however brief, where Agatha considers telling Cian the truth, considers admitting her lie, considers being honest about how much she is sure that she loves them.  But a part of her is afraid, worried that Cian is only saying these things to get her to be open so that they can change their mind.

Still.

Cian, I….

But she hesitates, and her voice trails off.

You’re only saying these things to practice with me, aren’t you? Agatha asks instead, meeting their eyes.  So that I won’t be afraid?

Cian almost smiles, then, but it’s such a sad thing that Agatha knows she has spoken wrong.  Before she has a chance to correct her mistake, they move their head from her shoulder and press a kiss, gentle, to the crown of her head.  I am much too old for you, my love, they say instead, but since you have asked, I will share the gift of myself with you.

Agatha doesn’t understand what they mean, but despite her curiosity, she doesn’t ask.

~

The next day, Agatha gets tested and comes back with the same clean bill of health that Cian gives to her.  She stares at the shuddering papers in her hands just long enough to acknowledge them and then looks up and meets Cian’s eyes.  So…so that’s it, then?  Do we just…do we now, or….  Her voice trails off, and despite knowing that she can take what she wants whenever she wants it, she shivers.  I’m not sure how we…where we go from here.

Cian reaches out, takes Agatha’s free hand in theirs, and rubs their thumb in soothing circles along her skin.  Don’t rush, darling, they say. If you are ready now, then we can, but if you are not, then don’t push it. They give her hand a squeeze.  You will know the moment when it comes.

It sounds an awful lot like wait, and Agatha is still so afraid that waiting will just mean they never do it at all. You’re not just saying that to push me off, are you, Cian?

Of course not.  Cian kisses her forehead gently.  I won’t change my mind this time.

Agatha bites her lower lip, nods, and then says, Why don’t we pick a date?  She turns away from them at the suggestion, towards the Titanic calendar that hangs on the nearby wall.  The top photo shows the already iconic image of Leo with his arms wrapped around Kate’s waist as she stretches her arms out so that she, too, can feel like she’s flying, but Agatha is less concerned with that and more focused on the dates below it. She points to one without much thought. Here, she says, picking a Wednesday nearly a week in the future.  If we haven’t by then, then we’ll…we’ll do it then.  Her finger presses flat against the date.  That should be okay, shouldn’t it?

A corner of Cian’s lips curves in amusement.  I’ve never seen it done that way, but if that’s what you want, dear, then that’s fine by me.  Provided I don’t have a headache, of course, or you haven’t gotten sick, or—

Cian.  Agatha moves back to them, stares up with frustration.  Don’t give me the headache excuse before we even—

Your partner shouldn’t have to give you an excuse, Cian interrupts, because if you were a good partner, you would respect their boundaries and not force them to have sex when they don’t want—

Cian.  Agatha leans against them, curling her fingers against their chest.

They brush their fingers soft through her hair.  Okay, they say, that not-quite smile softening sadly.  If we haven’t by then, if that’s what you want, then I’ll be waiting.  Their gaze leaves her, moves to the calendar.  Why don’t we give it a time?  Six in the evening.  I’ll bring champagne.

Agatha raises one brow.  You know I can’t drink.

Sparkling grape juice, then.

Agatha’s brow furrows.  You’re mocking me, dear.

Only because you make it so easy.  Cian kisses her gentle, and Agatha would try to take them then, except that the timing doesn’t feel right.  You want this to be special, don’t you?

Agatha nods slow, feeling, again, like this is a trap, although she can’t put her finger on just why.  She turns back to the calendar.  Date and time, she murmurs, more to herself than to Cian, and something small and uncertain worms its way into her stomach, sinks there, heavy.  If not before then, then…it’s a date.

Cian kisses the crown of her head again.  A date, then.

~

A part of Agatha expects the moment will come before the date.  That’s why she had so haphazardly picked one – a Wednesday, of all things, not a Friday or Saturday, which would make more sense for such an apparently momentous occasion – and why she hadn’t quite balked at Cian’s suggestion for a specific time.  It wouldn’t matter because they would have had sex long before that.  In fact, she was quite sure she would have sex the next time they had one of their so-called practice sessions because why not.

The answer to that why not was the sudden rising sense of fear that kept settling in the pit of her stomach.  Like being in line for a brand new rollercoaster, knowing that you’ve loved every other one you’ve ever ridden, and yet the anxiety of riding this new one grows and grows the longer you wait in line.  She’s excited until she feels the potential of the moment, and then she’s afraid and doesn’t press further.

And always, that looming date just on the horizon.

Agatha wakes that moment with half a sense of dread, which is weird because, well, she’d wanted this, hadn’t she? She still wants this, doesn’t she?  Yes.  The answer to both is still yes.  So why is she still so afraid?  Why, when Cian meets her eyes and softly asks, Six? does she feel like nodding is putting a noose around her neck?  She chose the date!

And yet, Agatha spends the day half-avoiding Cian and half-preparing for sex, spending way too long in the shower (there is no hot water by the time she is done; it is only the rapidly cooling water that makes her get out in the first place), scrubbing every inch of her skin until it is raw and red, looking at the dark fur between her legs and wondering if she should shave or trim or something and only getting so far before she’s afraid that she’ll nick herself like she always nicks her ankles when she shaves (and she does not want to nick anything there), debating between make-up or no make-up while she tries to tame her hair into something much more fitting than her normal everyday frizz, before going to her room and spending just as long going through her underwear, placing bras next to panties and trying to decide if she wants a set or wants to mix them, wondering what, exactly, Cian will like best, feeling her stomach churn as she realizes that everything she’s wearing is just going to be unwrapped as though she, herself, is a present lying at the very center of everything, and that lingerie like this, while also part of the present, is just a way of dressing herself up.  She stares at the scars ripped across her back. Cian knows.  That doesn’t make her feel any better about them.

In the end, Agatha stares at herself in the mirror and feels very, very foolish. Much worse than the time her mom tried to convince her to go to prom her junior year.  And full of so, so much dread.  She looks beautiful.  She’s still thin, but not so thin. Gaining weight has meant buying new clothes because none of her old ones fit anymore.  That should be a good thing.  And yet she still spends way too much time running her fingers along an old gown and chemise set that would have made her feel so much more comfortable, so much more her than what she’s wearing right now.

Agatha looks at herself in the mirror and strips all of the fancy clothes off, puts on something that makes her feel more herself, more comfortable – and not in the way all of those seductresses in the movies do, where comfortable really just means more lingerie or something more revealing that really isn’t more comfortable in the slightest – and then curls up on her bed and waits for the unease to pass.

The clock next to her bed flips to 6:00 pm, and nothing happens.

Agatha winces as it does.  Stares at the clock until it flips to 6:01 pm.  Waits for Cian to come knocking on her door, stomach still churning.

Still nothing.

Agatha closes her eyes.  Waits for nothing.  Opens them and the clock reads 7:11 pm, and at that point, she pushes herself from the bed on bare feet, toenails painted a deep violet to match her fingernails, and goes to find Cian.  She doesn’t see them in the kitchen, although the lingering scent of pasta and red sauce indicates they’d been here shortly before.  Her stomach grumbles weakly.  Cian would…Cian would be upset if she skipped dinner, and she finds a peanut butter and honey sandwich set on one plate, snatches it, and keeps searching.

The sandwich is gone by the time Agatha finds Cian in their bedroom.  Her heart skips a beat at the sight of them in a half-discarded suit, jacket hanging on the back of one of their chairs, bright tie untied but still hanging around their neck, fingers playing idly with one of the pearl buttons on their ebony shirt.  They glance up at her approach and give her a little nod.  You weren’t ready.

Agatha shivers.  You don’t know that.

No, I don’t.  Cian pats the mattress next to them.  Come sit with me, dear.

You didn’t come find me, Agatha says as she goes to them.  Her stomach clenches as she sits on the edge of their bed, and she fiddles with the edge of her shirt.  You got all dressed up for me, and you didn’t come find me.  Her brow furrows.  Why?

I told you, Agatha, they say, offering her a somber expression. I will never force you to do anything you aren’t ready to do, and I will never take advantage of you. Planned date or not.  If this isn’t your moment, then we can wait.  Cian reaches over, places a hand atop of hers. Together.

She feels it then, in the way her stomach lurches, in that skipped beat of her heart as it thumps once, hard, in the center of her chest, and instinctively, she leans across and kisses Cian.  The moment – here – and although she starts easy, the hunger in her grows, her hands moving to the pearl buttons of Cian’s shirt.

Cian stops her, covers her hands with their own again.  There’s no need to rush, they murmur between her desperate kisses.  I’m right here.  I’m not going anywhere.  This time, when they kiss her, Agatha runs her tongue around their lower lip before tugging it between her teeth in that way she knows they like, and with a soft moan, they release her hands, let their own find the edge of her shirt and move beneath it.

Agatha gasps.  What happened to not rushing? she murmurs, searching Cian’s eyes, heart beating wildly in her chest.

I’m not, Cian murmurs, but their thumbs press into her waist just enough to draw a whimper from Agatha’s lips.

That warmth pools between her legs again, and Agatha slowly, slowly begins to unbutton their shirt.  Her fingers brush the shirt open a little bit more with each button; she leans forward, kisses their skin as it is slowly revealed.  Then she lets her fingers rest, curled, just inside of their shirt, hesitating.  May I?

Yes, Cian murmurs.  May I?

Agatha almost doesn’t realize that Cian has said anything; she’s too focused on pushing the shirt away from them, on the two scars stretched across their chest. She touches them gently; Cian doesn’t flinch.  You can’t feel that?

No.  The nerve endings are all damaged; it’s all numb.

Agatha leans forward and kisses each scar gently.  You asked me something?

Cian’s thumb rubs against the skin of Agatha’s waist.  Your shirt.  May I?

Agatha hesitates.  That now quite familiar sense of panic thrums again, but she shoves it down.  Yes.

Slow – so slow – Cian takes the edge of Agatha’s shirt and lifts it over her head.  Agatha shivers at the cold along her bare skin, but as soon as she does, Cian reaches over, traces one fingertip from the underside of her bra, along her ribcage, and down to her hip.  She shivers for another reason entirely.

Cian?

You are so beautiful, princess.  Cian’s gaze takes her in, and Agatha preens under their appraisal.  All of that time choosing what to wear paid off; the bright, startling red draws Cian’s eyes, and they lean down to her, brushing their lips along the curve of her left breast, peppering kisses along her skin, up her neck, her jaw, the corner of her lips before capturing them again.  They move towards her, inching her back, guiding her along the bed, then wrap their arms around her before laying her down on the mattress.

Agatha hooks one leg around Cian’s waist, tugging them down closer to her.  All for you, my love, she whispers, nudging her nose against Cian’s.  Their lips meet hers again, but their fingers begin to run along her skin, trace the scars along her back (she whimpers, and they stop, although she can’t understand why), caress her until she quivers beneath them.  One hand cups her breast, and she whimpers again; they squeeze, and she moans into their mouth.

Do you like that, princess?

Without even thinking, Agatha nods.  More.

Cian’s expression softens with fondness, and as they bend again to suck on her pulse, drawing another moan through her lips, their hand moves to Agatha’s back, begins to unhook her bra.

All at once, Agatha seizes with panic.  Her breath hitches uncomfortably in her throat, her chest tightens, and she shifts beneath their touch.  She tries to force herself to calm, but Cian unhooks her bra, and she pulls back, away from them.  Stop, stop, Cian, stop, I can’t—  She curls up in on herself, pulls her knees to her chest, and leans against Cian’s headboard.

Cian leans back on their knees, keeping an eye on her.  You’re okay, they murmur, their voice soft.  Do you want me to stay here, or���

No, please, Cian, I—  Agatha holds one hand out for them, and when they take it, she tugs them.  They move over next to her, and Agatha leans against them, resting her head against their bare chest.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I just go so scared—

It’s okay.  Cian presses a kiss to her forehead, strokes her hair as comfortingly as she can.  You are allowed to be scared, and you are allowed to want to stop.  Anyone who tells you otherwise is not worthy of you.

Agatha blinks twice, confused.  What do you mean, worthy of me?  She tries to shove down her lingering feelings of panic, but they don’t dissipate, no matter how much leaning comfortingly against Cian sooths them.

Cian continues to stroke her hair.  Any time you choose to have sex with someone, you are saying they are worthy of you, they say, words measured.

Does that mean I’m worthy of you? Agatha asks, moving away from them, voice small, so that her eyes can search theirs.

Cian lowers their hands, places them on their knees, and says, You don’t need to do this to be worthy of me. They pause, then continue, You have always been worthy of me.  Every moment you spend with another person, Agatha, you are telling them they are worth of you – of your time, of your attention, of those moments of your life that you could be spending anywhere else and with anyone else.  You choose them, and by choosing them, you are saying they are worthy of you. Their lip curves ever so slightly. Every moment I have spent with you, I have said you are worthy of me.

Agatha nods slow, not quite comprehending. It makes sense, almost, in a confusing sort of way.  But the sense of it matters less than Cian saying that she is worthy of them.  It quells some of the lingering anxiety, but not quite.  Is that what you mean by the gift of yourself?

Cian nods gentle.  A lot of people will say that sex is the most vulnerable thing you can do with another person, but I don’t agree with that. Sometimes, when you admit something you can’t admit with anyone else, that is just as intimate a moment.

Like when I told you I liked girls, Agatha says as something clicks into place.

Exactly, Cian says, lips quirking in that smile Agatha has grown to love.  You gave me the gift of yourself then, dear, by choosing to be vulnerable with me.  Intimate with me.  Sex is a lot like that, but on a physical level.  It’s a gift you give to your partner, to share your body with them, all of those things you think are physical flaws, all of your sensitivities, all of the real physical you, separate from the masks you wear, and you count them worthy of that gift, you trust that they will do nothing to make you regret being so vulnerable with them.  They pause. That’s why it’s okay to be scared, my love, and it is okay to want to stop. To change your mind.  Being so intimate can be a very terrifying thing.

So this is…this is a gift that I give to my partner who I deem to be worthy of the gift that I am giving to them, Agatha says, trying to parse through everything.  Some of it makes sense.  Some of it feels very wordy and confusing.  Who I deem to be worthy of me.

Cian nods.  Yes.

So, when we do this, Agatha says, hesitant, but, as she comes to understand, the longing within her grows, are you giving yourself to me, too?

Again, Cian nods.  Wholly, they say.  Completely.

The fear doesn’t leave at Cian’s words, but Agatha finds herself desperate to push through it in a way that she hadn’t been before.  She slowly unwinds herself from the knot she’s curled into and, heart pounding, lets her bra slip from her shoulders so that she is just as bare before Cian as they are before her.  Her eyes remain wholly focused on theirs, and although theirs widen, their gaze never leaves her eyes, continues to hold hers.  Are you sure, my love?

Agatha nods once, swallows past the lump in her throat.  As Cian moves to cross the distance between them again, she says, voice shaking, Be gentle with me, okay?

Always, Cian responds.  They cup her face with one hand as they draw near to her once more. I will always be gentle with you, princess.

It isn’t easy for Agatha to let her lips meet Cian’s again, and it doesn’t become easier, no matter how much she wants it to be, no matter how gentle they are with her, no matter how good everything feels, no matter how much she enjoys when Cian takes her nipples between their lips.  The spike of panic returns, as of course it must, when their fingers dip gently beneath the waistband of her pants; it clenches in the center of her chest when they unbutton her jeans, even as they place a much desired kiss just above the band of her silken underwear; and it jolts with her entire body as they slip her underwear down to kiss even lower.

It’s that spike of fear that makes her cry out, Cian; that makes them pause before going any further; that makes her draw them by their chin back up to her face so that she can see them.  Stay with me, she says, eyes full of both fear and desire.  Stay with me.

Cian nods as though it is easy and presses their lips once more to the sensitive spot where Agatha’s jaw meets her neck as their fingers stroke gentle along Agatha’s thighs.

But as they meet the need, the fervent desire, that Agatha has been pressing for them to meet, she says it, aloud, unable to stop herself, I love you, and then, again, I love you, and then, a third time, drawing Cian back up so that she can kiss them, so she can say it against their lips, I love you, my darling, my sweet, I love you, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

[kuramirocket]

For a long time, it seemed like sodas were increasingly unpopular, with focus on all the sugar and other additives. But over the last few years, there has been a boom in the market—but these sodas are different.

Among one of the newest options is Mayawell, which launched in 2020 with a curated range of sodas that aren’t your average colas and lemon-lime fizzy drinks. Flavors include raspberry cucumber with black currant, strawberry ginger with hibiscus, and pineapple mango with turmeric. Each can has less than four grams of sugar and 40 calories per serving, packing five grams of fiber in as well. The sodas are sweetened with organic, hand-harvested Active Agave, which the company says improves digestion while bolstering the immune system and metabolism.

The brand sells direct-to-consumer via its website, in select stores, and Amazon. And the Austin-based company says it supports indigenous Mexican communities and reforestation with every purchase.

Fortune recently spoke with cofounder Vicente Reyes and about the first year in business, the competitive soda startup scene, and plans for the future.

The following interview has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.

Fortune: Can you share a bit about your professional background prior to launching Mayawell?

Reyes: Prior to launching Mayawell, I was a pioneer in the mezcal industry. People called me crazy when I first started talking about how mezcal could compete with tequila. I started my brand El Señorio in 1999 and sold it to a strategic partner in 2010. After that, I turned my focus to the health and wellness benefits of agave. I feel like my life’s mission is to support indigenous communities around Oaxaca and empower them in whatever way that I can.

What inspired you to launch Mayawell? What makes it stand out in the growing crop of new sodas on the market?

Reyes: Interestingly, Oliver and I were both inspired by the goddess of the agave, Mayahuel. She is an important symbol of life and vitality in pre-Hispanic cultures, and I was inspired to create a sustainable agave-based product that promoted wellness. I spent a little over six years working with a team of researchers and scientists to develop our unique Active Agave and prove out its efficacy in retaining healthy gut bacteria.

We spent a week in New York City discussing our shared passions and our belief that prebiotics would play an important role in gut health for modern customers. At the end of that first week, we had decided to partner together and found the company.

Several brands on the market are touting prebiotic benefits with no real science behind them and, in some cases, zero prebiotic fiber present in their products. What makes Mayawell unique is that we have six years of scientific research that shows that our Active Agave does what we say it does: retain healthy gut bacteria to improve overall gut health. Beyond that, we have an incredible social impact program in Oaxaca helmed by me through which we support indigenous communities with agave cultivation, crop reforestation, and the repurposing of agave fibers into woven materials. Every purchase helps support those initiatives.

A key component of Mayawell’s brand is that this soda is a healthier option. What was your research and development process like for coming up with recipes? What kind of ingredients did you test?

Reyes: We have the incredible fortune of working with one of the best product developers in the world, and we work collaboratively with her to identify flavor profiles that we believe would be interesting to customers. From there, we narrow in on our favorites and decide as a team which flavors we believe will resonate best in the market.

From the outset, we were inspired by the idea of drinking shrubs that date back to the 15th century, consumed as much for their digestive benefit as for refreshment. At the same time, we wanted to incorporate certain flavors from Mexico while developing products that appealed to a wide audience. After all, our thesis is that modern sodas can be both healthy and flavorful, so we wanted to develop products that are easy drinking and delicious for all to enjoy.

For a long time—at least over the last decade—it seemed like many consumers were starting to turn away from familiar soda brands, mainly due to health concerns. What do you think has changed in the last couple of years, and do you think this trend will continue?

Reyes: At Mayawell, we offer a product that has only one teaspoon of sugar while delivering 20% of the daily recommended value of fiber in every can. Our products are both low glycemic index and low in fructose, making them a great option for people with wide ranging dietary requirements. Customers are showing every indication that they’re looking for products that offer both flavor and function, and we’re excited by the opportunity to play a big role in this emergent category moving forward.

Mayawell says it supports indigenous Mexican communities and reforestation with every purchase. Can you explain more about the inspiration for this program as well as breakdown how those purchase proceeds are donated?

Reyes: As a native of Oaxaca, it is important to me that indigenous communities who have such incredible knowledge of our land and, more specifically, of agave are treated fairly and equitably. Our desire is to build a company that helps to create a positive impact with our agave sourcing partners, with an acute focus in Oaxaca.

Over the past 20 years, I have developed strong relationships with local communities that Mayawell partners with through my nonprofit organization, Hermano Maguey. Together we provide local communities with access to an agave seed bank, native plant species for reforestation, and resources to cultivate agave crops for profitable export. In sourcing agave from our partners and reinvesting 2% of our profits into these programs, we are working to make a meaningful impact in Oaxaca.

[tg-headcanons]

You ever think about that whole argument (from the narrator/Ishida) that humans are just like ghouls because they eat animals to survive? So, so flawed. A LOT of people are vegetarian or vegan these days. It would have been better to make the argument that any animal's survival is dependent on the death of others, whether those 'others' are slaughtered or not. Circle of life and all that.

THANK YOU FOR SAYING THIS

This is one of the ways in which tokyo ghoul gets close to a nuanced philosophy, but instead falls short into a tired old cliche. It’s just inches away from getting the point, but is held back by a major issue with Ishida’s writing style: Full focus on individual responsibility

We see it with how he portrays Kaneki alone with very little focus on countless other people who contributed as the catalyst for Change. We see it with how he portrays a handful of CCG members and Ghouls as “the bad ones who are making it worse for everyone else” rather than predictable products of their world’s system. And we see it with how he frames the world in a philosophical sense. There’s far too much focus on single people and simple goals. What will Kaneki do to save the world? What will Touka do to protect kaneki? What will Hinami do to decide if she’s a good person or not? It fails to take into account the sheer immensity of outside forces. It shouldn’t be “will X character choose to do Y?” it should be “how does Z effect X character’s ability or reason to do Y?”

Think about how Hinami had to kill Kureo because otherwise she and Touka would die horrifically. Was that even a choice? Could anyone blame her for fighting for her life when it was the only way to live? Or how Nishiki ate a piece of Kimi. Was he ever in a position to turn her offer of herself down? Was there any other way for him to survive then? Or how countless ghouls hunt down innocent people to eat. How else are they supposed to get food for themselves and their families? What other way can they survive starvation when every other Avenue is purposely blocked?

But I’m every single case, the situation these characters are in are set aside in favor of framing it as decisions they made with no other factors than their own desires

Now let’s compare that to how humans interact with meat. We’ve evolved for it, we sweat, see, and even support complex brains because we eat meat. Whether we like it or not we are predators, and that has been the case since the first hominids took down prey with sticks and rocks. We’ve been doing this for ages and it’s ingrained in our biology, cultures, and day to day life. Of course throughout history people have chosen not to. Whether it be for religious reasons, not liking it, or just being uncomfortable with the thought of eating animals some people have always been vegetarian, but in recent years there’s been way more. Sometimes it’s about diets, but other times people claim that to eat meat is unethical. “How could you eat a poor animal? How can you support factory farms? That’s disgusting I’m gonna email you a link to a poorly researched paper focused solely on Eurocentric ideas of consumption and terrible comparisons to actual human suffering that will guilt you into veganism”

The thing is, eating meat isn’t inherently evil. Not to sound like a cannibal or anything but I don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with eating both humans and animals given that it’s done respectfully. The problem comes when we focus on what farming is like now, that animals are mistreated, that farm workers are mistreated, that it can harm the environment, but does that make people who eat meat evil? Are they supporting this when they get dinner?

No, of course not, and to understand why we need to look at the reasons. First and foremost, it’s just good for a lot of people. Many people can’t survive on vegan/vegetarian diets, many people struggle with food and animal products are what they can eat, and often animal products are the easiest and most affordable food out there. Even in urban areas it’s hard to find food without animal products that are affordable in the long term for everyone, and that’s in the best case scenario. Look at places like Alaska, food most take for granted costs so much that no one can reasonably live only off that, and people there have lived off of animals they’ve caught for millennia before diet crazes existed. And yes, there are so many ways in which the methods of farming are unethical and harmful and those should absolutely be called out, but the responsibility lies with those profiting from it. How much evil is someone tight on cash trying to make it last until their next paycheck doing by taking their family to McDonald’s rather than getting food so much less filling for the same amount of money or more?

There’s so much complication added by factoring in society and capitalism and colonization’s effect on the local environment and what kind of life our meat animals live, but in the end, predation is natural. Animals eat animals, and humans who have benefited so much from our rise on the food change as early hominids are the only ones who take issue with it. Some people believe it really is evil and unnatural to eat animals, and they are free to believe that for themselves, but it speaks volumes about their own privilege when they turn that judgement on the people just trying to eat enough to survive. It isn’t a massive personal stake, it’s trying to survive in a world that has so many roadblocks to something as simple as a full meal

So compare that to ghouls. They steal bodies and hunt and kill because they have to. The rich may be able to outsource the carnage and keep the blood off their hands so they seem ethical, but they contribute to the deaths of humans the same way people touting that the animal farming industry is killing the world will buy animal product substitutes that harm people and the ecosystem just as much. After all, is the agave syrup that some company tore up a shitload of land in a more exploitable country to farm any less harmful because you can pretend that no people or animals were hurt? They can feel bloodless, but that doesn’t make what they do more ethical. It just lets them feel like it

As for the poor ghouls? They have to hunt. They get to play the part of ravenous monster because they don’t have the time or money to have someone else get bodies for them. Even anteiku ghouls have a little privilege by finding bodies that are already dead. Not every ghoul has a car to pick up corpses, or bodies that can walk that distance, or the knowledge to find good spots. Most hunt since the people that have died naturally are locked away because humans think of themselves as too evolved to take part in the circle of life, and would rather ghouls keep killing than let their loved ones be eaten like most animals are

In the end you’re completely right. Any animal’s survival is dependent on the deaths of others. All we as people can control is how kindly that is done. Humans with the means to can choose not to eat meat, but humans who don’t and ghouls can’t, and that does not make them evil. If humans in the TG world were willing to give the dead to the ghouls, it’s entirely possible that they wouldn’t need to hunt anymore. Meat will always be necessary, but the way they get it can be better, and that change relies solely on the system preventing them from having ethically sourced food. The fault does not lie with the individuals who need to eat

Ishida fell just short of the point in favor of the boring and nihilistic “oOoOh HuMaNs ArE tHe REAL mOnStErS” thing because it’s edgy and easy, but not correct. There’s nothing evil about having a biological need to eat meat, there’s nothing evil even for humans who don’t need to to eat meat, it’s just the circle of life. Nature is gruesome sometimes, but claiming that people are inherently evil is just edgelord bullshit. We can make the ways we get meat better if the people profiting off of it are held accountable, and ghouls can too if the people profiting off of their slaughter are held accountable.

Humans and ghouls are alike. Neither are bad for feeding themselves, and both can benefit a whole lot by not fighting over who is worse and instead demanding that the people in charge of their world make it better