#fandom paprika at least

[heyclickadee]

If there’s any argument for Tech dying or needing to be dead that I’m tired of—and I’m tired of all of them—it’s the idea that he must have died because he fell a long way. (Obligatory disclaimer that I’m still arguing that Tech is alive and was never actually killed off in the first place, and that that wasn’t dropped but just hasn’t played out yet before moving on):

Now, if Star Wars were a documentary? Sure. I’d buy it to some degree. I’d think that whoever was responsible for the documentary was remiss in not sending out a search party, since real life people have survived falls from upwards of 30,000 feet before, but on balance I’d think that he was likely, though not certainly, dead.

But Star Wars isn’t a documentary. It’s fiction, and genre fiction at that—a caricature of reality which abides by its own internal rules, shifting from story to story, and where both injury and likelihood of death alike are determined by narrative need rather than real world fatality. Short falls kill main characters in fiction all the time. Not always, there’s a degree of plot armor in many cases, but when they do, we see (or “see,” if it’s a written work) the immediate result. Perhaps not as graphically as it would appear in real life, perhaps with some artistic license and discretion depending on who’s watching, but we see it all the same.

Long falls, however, almost never kill any named characters in genre fiction. Not unless we immediately see the body afterwards. Even George Lucas—who, bless his heart, has some good ideas and some understanding of storytelling but has never thought a single implication all the way through and isn’t actually a very good writer—knew that. That’s why he cut Maul in half before throwing him into a pit. And that still wasn’t enough to keep him dead when Lucas changed his mind a decade or so later.

The utility of a long fall where you cut away before impact is that anything can happen in the gap the audience doesn’t get to see. In fact, the higher the fall, the more time the character falling has to do something about it. And what could they do? Well, the story of the bad batch, if we start from where it began in season seven of TCW, actually presents us with a number of different options for a character who found themselves in that position, including:

1. Use their collection of animal calls to summon some giant flying reptiles and ride them to safety (On the Wings of Keeradaks, Tech’s idea)

2. Just use the force to jump to safety and hope someone lies about them falling to their deaths dying (Aftermath, Caleb, can we talk about how “Where’s X?” and “X didn’t make it,” combo happens in exactly two places in the script for the whole show and one is Hunter lying to Cross about Caleb and the other is Hunter talking to Omega about Tech?)

3. Fall a long way in something that’s going to roll around and take most of the impact for them (Reunion, Tech’s idea again)

4. Just don’t die. Or I guess hit a bunch of things on the way down and hope their special armor protects them (War Mantle, Hunter, who doesn’t even break a rib, listen it would actually be flat out stupid for Tech to die in a fall in a situation that’s directly parallel (the terrain, Omega screaming at everyone to go back) to the one we watched Hunter walk away from. We watched it happen once; why should we believe it this time? The only difference is that we didn’t follow Tech all the way down.)

5. Hope the box they’re falling in has emergency thrusters to slow them down (Spoils of War, Omega’s idea, Tech was impressed and I’m sure remembers it, I mean seriously are we actually thinking Tarkin’s secret gondola doesn’t have some kind of safety back up in case it malfunctions with him inside? *Maybe* it doesn’t, but it very well might.)

6. Hope there’s water at the bottom after they fall through the mists (The Crossing, Omega and Tech. Funny how at least some of these involve Tech. Funny how there’s mists like in Plan 99.)

7. Have someone catch them on the way down before they hit the ground, which may be lava (Hunter catching Omega, Retrieval. You can almost count Phee catching Hunter and Hunter catching Phee in Entombed, I just don’t because they don’t fall first)

8. Grab onto something on the way down into the void (CX-2, Extraction)

9. Fall into water again (Also CX-2, Extraction)

This isn’t about actual survivability, by the way. The characters involved in most of these would have likely died if it happened in the real world, especially the ones with a water landing, but Star Wars doesn’t care about that. It will blow people up and light them on fire and decide they’re fine. Physical reality and how any of these would actually go (badly, they would go badly) is irrelevant.

The point here is about establishing audience expectations. We’ve got a situation in which a character whose body neither we nor his family ever see supposedly dying via a method the story itself—not even the conventional rules of the genre, the specific story being told—sets up as survivable. Never mind that “no body, no death” is a genre convention, never mind that “Faster” goes out of its way to set up that Tech works in milliseconds and that if anyone can find a way out of it, he can.

People watching are handed a set of survived long falls which set up the expectation that this fall could have been survivable, too, even if they’re not picking up on it. It’s just enough for people to go, hmmm, that’s weird, and not fully accept it. Which makes it more likely for people to accept that he survived instead if he should come back.

tl;dr: This is the implausible survival franchise. It’s a feature, not a bug, and any arguments about gravity or what would kill someone for real don’t matter.

[thegoddessprose]

It's time for another Chitarch fic! This is one I've been putting off for quite some time, but with SOTR giving some relevant backstory and context, I had to write it now.

In which Chiasa reveals her darkest secret to Plutarch and their dynamic starts to shift from situationship to... Something else.

Obvious spoilers for SOTR. Victor prostitution is also a prominent theme here as a TW. Also allusions to drug use, unwanted pregnancy, and thoughts of abortion. This one's going to be heavy...

Tagging @plutarchheavensbee of course, and for those of you new to the Plutarch Fandom, if you like this and want more of this pairing, the masterlist is pinned on my profile. Welcome aboard!

For many years, men were a good stress relief for Chiasa. (Well, perhaps a few women as well, but mostly men), and Plutarch was no exception. Why else had she made that sheer gown for the second quell after parties? Plutarch certainly wasn't an exception there either, thank God that arena Groundbreaking party was retro themed.

What was an exception was laying in his arms like this. They'd started cuddling about a month and a half ago; to be fair, before the first time, he'd told her that her mother was Shougai, the rebel that Snow himself feared, and that she was his mentor. That was a shock, but at least it explained why he thought he underestimated Chiasa.

"Always so mediocre and frivolous... At least you keep your nose out of things you don't understand, unlike your sister..." That was definitely one of her favorite lectures. She was so hard on them as adults, but it wasn't totally her fault.

There was that, of course, and the fact that Chiasa and Plutarch did a little spy interrogation scene to take the edge off. The cuddling was simply aftercare, but he was so comfortable... He still was. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea, but he didn't stop her. She didn't want to stop either... Being wrapped in his arms was so much better than the finest of cotton duvets. Playing with his salt and paprika chest hair had her calm in an instant, and the smile and blush on his face always made her day better.

Today, however, she had a lot on her mind. Proper spring had arrived, and the third quell was on the horizon. She had a vague idea that something big was going to happen... It bothered her, even though she knew she was in the dark for a reason. Things could go either very well or very badly, and she couldn't stand the uncertainty. Perhaps there was one thing she could know for sure.

"Plutarch?"

"Yes, Chiasa?"

"Well, uh..." she started, "I know you have whatever system or plan, but... What would happen if people knew about us? I'm not planning to say anything of course, but... What if?"

"...We won't," he replied, "As long as we don't say anything, it's not something we need to worry about."

She'd noticed that he hesitated, and thought she heard a hint of doubt in his voice. Perhaps she shouldn't overanalyze, but... Had he really not thought of it? Did he not want to?

"But what if we would have to worry about it? You do like to plan for all possibilities."

"Well yes... You're right about that," said Plutarch, "I'd try to get you somewhere safe, of course, Snow's the one to worry about because I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Yes, that's obvious, and I'm thankful you'd go the extra mile for little old me," she said, "But... What about... other people? Like my nephew?"

"Marcus?" he inquired.

It seemed like he really hadn't... There was no telling how Marcus would react. He knew that she liked to date, but his boss and mentor would surely be another story.

"Well... In his case... You know him a bit better than I do, but I've gotten to know him these past few months... He might be an adult, but he's still a teenager," he continued, "It could go either way, but ultimately, I doubt he'd mind."

"Yeah... He's very smart, but he's still eighteen," she agreed, "But... He really looks up to you, you know?"

Plutarch smiled a bit at the thought. Hmm. Her brother in law, Florent, was right about one thing... Marcus needed some more positive male role models. He was fine, but he was often at work. Otherwise, there was only herself and Quinta, and Marcus and the latter didn't get along too well. He was close to her mother, but she'd passed away a couple years back.

As nice as it was to have an answer, why was she even thinking about such a thing in the first place? It wasn't like she and Plutarch were serious. She needed to play this off pronto.

"I don't think the other Heavensbees would have liked me too much, would they?" she joked.

He chuckled. "Let's see... New money, not quite a "proper" lady, a grandfather from District 11, unable to bear heirs... Doubt it. But then again, that might have made me sprint to you as a younger man."

"Ha! I get it... Your rebelliousness had me sprinting to you, after all."

Laughing together took the edge off as well, although it only had them holding each other tighter. Once it died down, Chiasa noticed a certain pensiveness about him.

"Since we're delving into hypotheticals... You've mentioned your children more than once. What would they think of us?" he asked, "I expect the age difference would be a little daunting..."

As long as it was hypothetical.

"They know about my dating habits... After all, men my age tend to be prudes, droopy, or already married," she replied, "So long as you don't assert yourself as a father figure, for the most part, you should be fine."

"Don't worry, I'm not the fatherly type anyway," he quipped.

"Individually... Tenma might be a peacekeeper, but she's in the honor guard," she continued, "Twirls flags and fake guns, marches in fancy formations. The only time she shoots is to salute. I think she's only there to be closer to her husband or avoid being a lady... Otherwise, since you're only a few years older than her, that would be her main issue."

Chiasa and Tenma ended up quite different from one another. She liked flashy fashion, her daughter preferred practical wear. She was a free spirit, Tenma wanted everything settled down and predictable. That was all fine... But perhaps being the oldest molded her a little too well.

"Kamakura, my youngest.... She still has her father in her life. Maybe she'd be a little shocked, but she'd handle it the best. I think she's the one who's the most like me," she continued, "My son, Yves, though... That's a little complicated."

Plutarch's face dropped, but he cleared his throat and tried to stay neutral.

"It's fine if he wouldn't like me," he said, "This is... This is all hypothetical after all."

"Oh, no! It's not that. In other circumstances, I think you'd get along very well," said Chiasa, "You both love your books and theories and you're real go-getters. But... He's just a little more... headstrong than his sisters are. That might be a good thing too... Any problem with him... It wouldn't actually have much to do with you individually."

She sighed deeply and turned to stare at the ornate celing. Yves's paternity was quite the sore topic. Of course he had his uncle and her ex, Theseus, to lean on as potential father figures, but his complicated origins still weighed on her. Keeping the truth quiet was necessary to save everyone's asses, but it wasn't good on anyone's psyches, especially Yvie's when he found out.

As much as she tried to hide it, Plutarch had to know that she was distressed. It was hard to get much past him if he survived this long as a rebel. She recalled telling her son when he was in his late teens... Any pouting or surliness was blamed on teen angst by others. Theseus got a brief account, and he thankfully knew the consequences of it getting out.

She wrestled with telling Plutarch... It wasn't like he'd tell anyone, after all, he didn't tell anyone about her sympathies. Even if he did, people wouldn't believe him... How would he know such a thing anyway? And... It felt unfair to keep this secret. She knew she had every right, but this was a significant part of her past, whether she liked it or not. If she was in too deep or at least getting there... At least she'd have his reaction, his opinion on her at another low... She'd know whether all of this was a mistake. Either way, she still couldn't look him in the eye... She let go of them and turned on her side, facing away from him.

"Chiasa?" he inquired softly.

She felt his warm hand on her shoulder, keeping his presence known. Still... She couldn't face him as she said this. She could barely look at her son or old friend when she told them, and this wasn't any different.

"It's... It's Yves's biological father," she finally replied quietly, "That's the complication. He can be a bit wary of others in that... place."

"His father? But... I thought those old tabloids said you didn't know, as with your eldest," he replied.

"My reputation saved us there, at least. But no... That's not the truth. I knew exactly who it was." Chiasa already felt herself tearing up. Hopefully she’d still be coherent.

She felt Plutarch move a little closer. Perhaps he'd change his tune soon enough, however.

"Was he not a good man? Did he hurt you?" he asked, "Did he hurt him or Tenma?"

Plutarch had a real talent in seeming sympathetic while having enough quiet fury to be plotting the hypothetical bastard's death.

"No, nothing like that..." she replied, "Look... Please know I did what I must to protect my loved ones... And those I felt responsible for."

"I know, me too. I can't blame you for that."

Just rip it off...

"Yves... My son's father is... Is... He's Link Zhou."

Plutarch was silent for a moment, but didn't let go of her. Perhaps that was a good sign.

"The victor from 3?" he asked, "He was one of yours, right? ... One of the first males to be sold."

Chiasa nodded. That "program" was as ghastly then as it was now. Link was a nice looking kid and her dressing him well probably only made things worse.

"It's not what you think," she said, elicting what she believed was a sigh of relief from Plutarch, "There wasn't any preying or anything like that. In any other circumstances, I wouldn't have done anything with him."

"Oh... Well, what really happened?" he asked. Thankfully, she only gauged a bit of curious and concern.

"It was after he'd survived..." she started, "He was nice looking, I guess... And I guess I'd done my job too well. There were a lot of women here with crushes on him... Men too... That other bidder, he was gigantic, snobbish, had a reputation for being rough... Link had only turned nineteen and hadn't been with anybody. I couldn't let him go to that bastard so... I bid."

"I think I see where this is going... Why not fake it?"

"There was word of some people giving some of the early girls a "night off" maybe some of Mother's people back then... They'd started... making sure," she tearfully replied, "Link, he... He was happy to see me. He said he had a crush on me, thought about this during his victory tour... I guess in the moment, that had me feeling less bad, but the next morning... I was disgusted with myself. I couldn't look at him, I slipped out."

By then, Chiasa was sobbing, that morning coming right back to her. The succession of Link sleeping peacefully, the bile in her throat, the way she threw on her clothes and dashed home as quickly as she could... How she nearly scrubbed herself raw twice in the shower as she cried her eyes out in shame. How she wanted to go downtown to find some Molly to relapse with until her sister called to say she was bringing Tenma back home.

Plutarch was still holding her from behind, not saying anything, but letting her know she was there. Shouldn't he be disgusted? She had to take a few minutes to compose herself before going on.

"They were still figuring out the protection... I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later, he was the father... All that guilt, that disgust... It all came back. I kept thinking about what could happen. Would I be kicked out of the Capitol and him entered in the Reaping? Would I be forced to marry Link and keep him from his home and happiness... I'd seen that movie before and wanted no part of it... As you might know. Of course I thought about ending the pregnancy, but... I couldn't go through with it. I made sure to be seen with other men and screwed them... Did whatever I could to look a month behind. Nobody could know... I dread to think what could have happened to the three of us."

"Shit... I think I see where you're coming from," said Plutarch.

"Wait, you do?" she asked, "You're not... appalled, disgusted?"

"It would be a little rich of me to judge," he said, "I mean, I've never done that specifically, but I've crossed a line for the greater good more than once. I do have a question..."

"Yeah?"

"Does he know? Link, I mean."

How simple everything would be if everything just went according to her plan.

"Yes... I didn't so much as tell him as he saw a photo of Yves in my wallet and put two and two together," she replied, "They don't look identical thankfully, but he saw himself in him, he knew... That's what led me to telling Yves. Neither were too happy with me... I let them see each other in person once, but only that, seeing... They wanted to speak but I couldn't allow it. At least... Well, it sunk in how dangerous such a thing was one year."

At least Chiasa didn't cry over that particular memory anymore, but it still hurt her.

"What... Oh. The second quell?" he guessed, "With Beetee's son."

"That's the one. That year was hard enough as it is... I had twice as many people to dress, you remember a lot of things were all over the place... It was always hard when Link was here, but since one of the other victors volunteered for a different District, he had to be... But hell... I styled Beetee. For a while, he was the least troubling one, even with his time in the arena... Then I had to pretty up his kid to be killed? For something his father did, I'd heard..."

She'd since decided to lay on her back once again. Plutarch kept his arm around her and pulled her a little closer. Out of everything she'd said, this seemed to get to him? Not that she could blame him.

"He was so young, so full of life, and of course it had to be Beetee that mentored him. He didn't deserve to go the way he did," Chiasa continued, "The whole time I was thinking... One wrong move and that could have been my Yvie... Link... Well, he did his best with the others, but when he wasn't mentoring, I'd find him sitting alone, staring at nothing... I remember clearly, he said... He said..."

"What did he say?" Plutarch asked gravely.

"Link said... He said that he felt like shit just being around Beetee. That his boy was going to die and his own made the Dean's list at the best university in Panem... He felt stupid, as much as he wanted to know Yvie... He'd never want anything like this to happen to him. I think for the first time, he understood where I was coming from," said Chiasa, "Yvie and I had a pretty big fight after everything was over with... But he got it in the end. He understood the gravity of things... I think that's what led him to teach rather than practice law..."

She suddenly felt a bit exhausted and turned to rest her head against his chest. There were no more tears, but she was still overwhelmed by all these emotions hitting her at once. The arm around her shoulders had moved to her waist, and she felt his other hand in her hair. For what seemed like a long while, neither of them spoke. Despite her many past liasons, and even the ones with him... Chiasa had never felt more exposed. Yet, she wasn't scared. Perhaps it was his gentle touch or his steady heartbeat... But eventually, she was calm. Finally, she moved up to look him in the eye. No recoil, no rage... Not at her, at least... No amusement. His gaze was serious with a hint of sympathy.

"I'm sorry..." she finally said, "That was probably a little more than you bargained for."

"It's fine... I mean, I'm the one who asked all those follow up questions, after all," he replied softly, "Think of it this way... At least you did what you did for the right reasons."

"It was still terrible on both of them..."

"Maybe. But like you said, you did what you had to do," he reassured her as he cupped her cheek, "Your instinct was to rebel if it meant protecting yourself and them. I could never hate you for that... Actually, I have to say, that was rather crafty. It's amazing how you got away with it."

Chiasa expected him to smirk at those words, but instead, he smiled a beautifully genuine smile. Was that adoration of all things in his eyes? It was a wonder how she could tell him such a dark secret and have him look at her this way. Honestly? It was a wonder how easy everything flowed with Plutarch. Perhaps it was because he'd know if she were hiding something. However, he couldn't make her tell him anything. With all her hesitation, her strong will helped her make it this far, and not even a seasoned agent like him would break it so easily. No... She just told him anyway.

Somehow, she deemed him worthy enough, and he'd proved himself by listening and embracing her rather than judging her. It felt odd... Having someone know this much about her and neither running away or turning her in. It felt odd, but nice; perhaps one of the nicest things she'd felt during her many years of living.

"Plutarch...."

"Yes, Chiasa?"

"Thank you..." she said, "You're really, truly... such a wonderful man."

She leaned in for a kiss... Even that seemed a little different today, precise, but also passionate, but so much more than just sensual. It kept her calm, relaxed safe... yet also euphoric. She pulled away in time to catch him lightly blushing. How could one man be so dignified and adorable at the same time... She couldn't help but plant light kisses on both his cheeks, making him blush and smile all the more.

As much as neither of them wanted to let go just yet, they did have to actually get ready to sleep. At least it wouldn't be for long... However, as Chiasa was alone with her thoughts, the reality of the situation started to take over. No matter how happy she was in the moment, things would eventually get complicated. It wasn't as simple as what others what think of them. There was the rebellion, too. Plutarch hadn't told her about any plans, but with the current events, the rationing, the general uproar Katniss was causing, she had a feeling something was going to happen. Her parents had witnessed the same signs decades ago. Then what? Would people start dying? Would Plutarch have to leave her? Would she have to... get involved? Maybe... Did she just now consider it? Helping out once was one thing, but actually joining up? Like him, her nephew, her nephew's girlfriend... And who knew how many others?

Yet... Why did the idea not bother her like it used to? While she wasn't exactly rushing to join, she wasn't as afraid. Hell, any of the complications would be enough to make a lot of sane people run away, perhaps that was why he never married... Not that she could blame him. But why wasn't she running? Maybe it was because her generation actually knew how to handle hardships. Maybe in some twisted way, the good outweighed the bad. She needed to relax again, or she'd never sleep...

She walked out of the bathroom to find Plutarch sitting on the side of the bed already, having put on some sweats. She eyed his discarded black shirt on the floor before picking it up and throwing it over her shoulders. What a soft, breathable material... And big enough to envelop her easily like he did, not to mention it smelled like him... Sophisticated and mossy. For a second, he beamed at such a sight, but suddenly hung his head and his smile dissolved in deep thought.

"Plutarch? Are you okay?" she asked, "Would you rather I not wear this? I know it might be expensive--"

"No, no... Actually... It suits you."

He patted the spot next to him and she sat down. He stiffened for a moment when she rested her head on his shoulder, but relaxed soon after.

"I just have a question," he continued, "Chiasa... Why do you keep coming back to me?"

"Well, I'd say it's obvious, but it seems like something's on your mind."

"Chiasa... I'm not a good person. You deserve better. Why me?"

"Really, well, you're doing your damndest to prove yourself wrong to me," she replied, "I was raised to believe that actions speak louder than words. And... I just told you about the worst things I've ever done. I'm hardly "good" either. Actually... Is anybody in this city?"

Finding a wholly good person in the Capitol was like looking for a floral print in the winter season. As much as Chiasa tried to be better, she was far from perfect. Her father wasn't perfect, even those she considered her friends were deeply flawed in some way.

"You're not wrong about that... Still... How fascinating... Good people like you hardly think they're good... But in reality, you're better than a lot of people I know," he said, "Yes, even after what you told me. The only ulterior motive you had was protecting those two. No bitterness, no revenge, nothing like that. I've done a lot of bad things, and not always for the right reasons... Like it or not, you're better... Too good for me."

As much as she preferred her men to be at least self-aware, this reeked of insecurity to Chiasa. With all the quiet confidence he exuded, it broke her heart to see him sell himself short, especially when he was ultimately doing good. She took his hand.

"Aww, Plutarch, don't say that..." she soothed, "You know I'm here because I want to be. I think you're a man worth being with. Believe me, I've known some absolute bastards in my time... But you're not one of them, you've been good to me. There are plenty of others who would have been that accepting of my past... Or present. You, though... You know the real me, and you like me anyway. And let's talk about you for a second... You're smart, interesting, handsome, brave... You know, I think your heart's a lot bigger than you let on. I don't think anything's much better than that."

"Chiasa, I... I'm flattered you think so highly of me," he replied, a bit flustered, "And I think I should have said this earlier, but... Thank you for telling me your story. I can understand why you'd keep it a secret either way, and I'm honored that you trusted me with it."

As they laid back down, it finally sunk in how true her words to him were.... His as well. She wouldn't have told him all that if she didn't mean it, however... Getting this close was rare, and she hadn't even gotten this far in the past. Even Theseus, even as a friend, didn't know about her rebel sympathies and she still counted that as one of the reasons they broke up. Plutarch had essentially found out by accident, but he was not only accepting, but encouraged her way of thinking as well. He didn't just talk about change either, he was somehow making things happen. She remembered that he once called her strong; a part of her didn't believe him, but it had her feeling all warm and fuzzy that he of all people thought so highly of her.

Then there was tonight... When she told him her darkest secret. She really expected him to at least judge her... After all, rebels and sympathizers alike agreed that whoring out victors was a vile practice... As did she. Even though she'd helped Link avoid a traumatic first night, she hated herself for even partaking. At the same time, however, it didn't seem fair that Plutarch didn't know, and it would have been worse if he found out on his own. He'd embraced her, but didn't quite brush it off; he acknowledged and understood her and somehow, knowing didn't scare him off. Somehow he thought she deserved better than him. He couldn't be more wrong, it should be the other way around. Perhaps if she'd met someone like him in the past, the idea of commitment might not be so daunting to her. She never thought being so safe and comfortable with someone... Well, maybe with a smidge of thrill, would be this... Beautiful.

Oh.... OH

Dammit.

She was falling for him. Chiasa was falling for Plutarch. It felt wonderful, but... Anything could happen, it was awfully inconvenient timing. But she'd live in the moment. That was the philosophy she lived by: Live in the moment, everything passes.

However, as she gazed at his now sleeping face, she wondered... Did she really want it to pass this time?

[aaajaxolotl]

Feast Your Eyes: Fandom Cookbook Recipe Review #9

The Stars are A-Lime-Ing - Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Tonight's menu: sourced from Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Main Dish: Warrior Wings, pg 56

BONUS Main Dish: RDA Corn Ribs, pg 58

Full review under the cut!

Aurum Leuci’s Log:

[Begin recording.] Visiting the Terran outpost on Pandora. Not much to report, but they’ve done some great things with vegetables on this planet. It seems like Earth plants grow way better here- who knew? Anyway, I hope to have something more to report on my next log. Aurum Leuci out. [End log.]

Please see this post for my full review scale!

Main Dish: Warrior Wings

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 5/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 25/25

I was very skeptical of this dish. I hate cauliflower (don’t @ me) and was worried that I would probably just not end up eating any of it. Turns out I don’t hate cauliflower prepared like this. Both these and the ribs were baked rather than fried, which— while time-consuming— was absolutely great. While it’s weirdly “earthling”, for a Pandora cookbook, since it’s in RDA rations, I’ll give it a pass. The cajun lime glaze was too good for me to want to take points off!

(Bonus) Main Dish: RDA Corn Ribs

RATING:

Difficulty: 2/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 3/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 20/25

These “ribs” were good… but honestly, they were just fancy corn on the cob. While I think most corn on the cob should be prepared this way (you don’t need to get a plastic handle or anything, it’s great!) the corn isn’t really the star of its own dish. The lime and paprika “ranch”, on the other hand… delicious. I ended up using it on both the corn and the wings, and I feel like it really elevated both. I think this recipe could’ve used a glaze similar to the wings, applied after it came out of the oven, because it felt like the corn was a little under-seasoned (at least in my opinion). My family didn’t seem to think so, though. I may just be biased against corn. Either way, I would definitely make it again… if someone was cutting the corncobs for me. (My dad helped with that this time, and it was hard even for him. I really wish they’d just sell it like that in the store…)

[midnights-wish]

thank you for tagging me, @ableedingpromise! <3

rules: answer & tag 9* people you want to know better and/ or catch up with!

*ahem ahem, let's just pretend that doesn't exist, yes?

› favorite colour: green & purple!

› last song: 'linger' by the cranberries ♡ › currently reading: 'the mill house murders' by yukito ayatsuji

› currently watching: 'undead murder farce' (kinda, at least; i haven't watched an episode in months, but i'm still very determined to finish it; it's really good), & i've started the last season of monk

› currently craving: halloumi. halloumi, grilled, with some oil and garlic. also, grilled on a schaschlik with onions, paprika, champignons, zucchini and little potatoes. maybe throw some mozzarella on some of the schaschliks, too. i know that one probably won't work very well, but i'll find a way by using brute force & sheer desperation

› coffee or tea: coffee, in any of its variations

i'm tagging: @rains-melody; @saikoma; @lalectoracaimitena; @fandom-star-gazer; @playingwrongnotes; @bunnihearted; @sora9x

[purpleyin]

Fun Stuff!

Thank you @sunshinebunnie for the tag!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

What fandom currently holds your fixation?

Definitely Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone. Though I've been thinking about Fringe, Free Rein, and Stargate Atlantis more lately too

Write, read or draw?

Write, but I hadn't had energy to do more than plan things lately. I'd love to get back into reading fanfic again too, but I don't have focus for anything more than slightly long. I have read a bit more for books lately though. Would love to learn to draw better but again, where is the time/energy

Favorite color?

This varies and I have multiple anyhow. I've been feeling forest green more this year

Favorite snack foods?

How to pick...Reese's cups are high up there but I don't have often. Paprika crisps. Crunchy seaweed snacks but I can't eat that too often because I worry about getting too much iodine. Can raspberries count?

What show are you currently watching?

'The Law According to Lidia Poët' and 'Spinning Out'

Currently reading?

I'm slowly reading RWRB right now

If you could be a character for one day in a TV show you love - who would it be?

Someone with a nice life, have a bit of a luxurious break. But I can't think who really since I mostly know angsty characters and all the millionaires seem to be vigilantes with far too much trouble going on

And last but not least, what is the one place in the world you wish you could visit?

Japan. I'd love to go see the cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji, the architecture and cultural sights, eat lots of sushi, try more Japanese sweets (mmm doriyaki)

Tagging but no pressure to do: @sophiainspace @starstruckpurpledragon @takeunknownroadnow @mrdcoolblue @battys-home

[firstprince-ao3feed]

Chef's Kiss

by aforgottennymph “What’s this?” “My dad said it’s for you.” She shrugs, “I didn’t read it. He said it’s for grown up eyes.” He takes it carefully, glancing between the girl and the piece of paper as she looks at him expectantly, gesturing for him to open it. 3/10, it reads, appreciate the effort sweetheart but dear god please invest in some paprika at least. looking forward to whatever you manage to cook up today. personally i have a hankering for tamales. ;) - alex It really is a testament to how painfully single he is that a note from a faceless lawyer is enough to make him blush, while said lawyer’s daughter stares at him with her arms folded, foot tapping impatiently against the tiles. “Well?” Thankfully, when he was googling dishes, tamales was one of the most frequent answers, so he has enough to pull it off, “Looks like we’re making tamales.” The girl Pez babysits from the shelter should be completely intimidating, utterly terrifying. Instead he finds himself completely under her spell as she takes on the utterly Herculean task of teaching him to cook. It helps that he may be falling in love with her dad at the same time. Words: 12182, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, David the Beagle (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Texting, Bad Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Friendship, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Single Parent Alex Claremont-Diaz, Writer Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Fluff and Humor, No Beta We Die Like Henry's Pancakes, Schmoop, Mutual Pining, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, POV Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor via https://ift.tt/41jVlwt

[miksblog28]

Fandom Cookbook

'Drake's Culinary Chronicles,' is a cookbook I created that combines the flavors of Drake's music and his favorite dishes. In this cookbook, we explore the fusion of music and food, just like Drake's music combines different genres and emotions. Each recipe is inspired by a Drake song, album, or personal favorite, creating a dining experience that's as diverse and unforgettable as his discography.

Recipe: "Hotline Bling Spicy Chicken Wings"

Inspiration: The song "Hotline Bling" is all about those late-night calls and dance moves. These spicy chicken wings are perfect for a late-night gathering with friends or for dancing the night away, just like Drake does in the music video.

Ingredients:

2 lbs of chicken wings

1/4 cup of hot sauce

2 tbsp of honey

1 tsp of paprika

1 tsp of garlic powder

1 tsp of onion powder

Salt and pepper to taste

Vegetable oil for frying

Instructions:

In a large bowl, combine the hot sauce, honey, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Mix well to create the marinade.

Place the chicken wings in a separate bowl and pour the marinade over them. Make sure the wings are evenly coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight for best results.

Heat the vegetable oil in a deep fryer or large pot to 350°F (175°C).

Carefully place the marinated chicken wings into the hot oil and fry until they are golden brown and crispy, about 10-12 minutes.

Remove the wings from the oil and drain on paper towels.

Serve your "Hotline Bling Spicy Chicken Wings" with your favorite dipping sauces and enjoy them while dancing to Drake's music.

Note:

These spicy chicken wings are sure to be a hit at your next gathering, and they pair perfectly with Drake's music. Just like Drake's songs, they have a mix of flavors, a touch of heat, and a whole lot of charisma.

[anaid-queen]

thanks for the tag! ^^ as usual i won't be tagging anybody but i'll try to answer without spiralling or rambling :'D

last song listened to: no idea honestly and my phone doesn't show me, but i'll claim Home by Dotan as my answer because i've been listening to it a lot lately

currently watching: (thank fuck i am actually currently watching smth for a change) Vampire Diaries! on S3, only semi-enjoying it but i love an ensemble cast and do want to see where this is going lol

three ships (reading this as "three ships currently on my mind"): Armandiel, Cecilos, Wyllstarion tried to pick from three different fandoms

favorite color: i love green to wear or to decorate with (or generally for most things), but my favorite color is red

currently consuming: just had breakfast! breadrolls, tea, cheese, paprika :3

relationship status: just rejected a really sweet guy and feeling like shit ahem, single still 🤷🏻‍♀️

last movie: i... honestly don't remember. i think it was Resident Evil: Death Island ?? but i only skipped through it a bit (i'm not a movie person)

currently working on (i assume this is about writing): too much and nothing at all. last thing i touched was my greatest passion project, Redshirts, but i SHOULD be finishing up at least some of my near-done WIPs for various other fandoms 🙈🙈😅

thanks for the tag @julyzaa!

Last Song: Hold My Hand by Hottie and the Blowfish

Currently Watching: Magnificent Century (Suleyman Arc), GoT Season 2, and The Last Promise (Fantasy C-Drama on Netflix)

Three Ships: oooooh! Jon x Sansa, Jace x Helaena, Fjord x Jester

Favorite Color: Blue, Purple, Pink

Currently Consuming: Cool Blue Gatorade and a quest chocolate bar

Relationship Status: Single and Loving It

Last Movie: Sleeping Beauty (Animated)

Currently Working On: Chapter 15 for Maiden

no pressure tags: @acrossthesestars, @corporalicent, @mihrsuri, @theladyelizabeth, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @murmel-malt, @mimikoflamemaker, @stannisfactions, and anyone else who would like to! (and just say I tagged you!)

[whattheheckmidoriya]

Ok i thought of something adorable, y’know how theres that one picture of Aizawa in the back seat of the car with Eri in the manga? And how when they were going to visit the prison Present Mic was the one driving the car and not Aizawa, so none of us have seen him drive and now half the fandom assumes he can’t, ok so wait, and you know how you shared that one of your biggest headcanons for Aizawa is that he’s a hand holder? Or he loves holding hands. OK OK so imagine that the time he chooses to hold your hand the most is when you drive him. Because he’s not a huge PDA guy, but in the car its like private. So he gets very clingy holding your hand whenever you’re in the drivers seat so you have to use one hand on the wheel and the other is holding his hand while you’re stopping for a red light. And when you take your hand away to drive again he does his signature pout. AHHHH 😭🥺 -Paprika.

THIS IS ADORABLE I—🥺🥺💖

I genuinely love the idea of Aizawa not being the driver!

Chances are he does know how to drive, but chooses not to because having to focus so intensely on the road strains his eyes too much. So, you're the designated driver. Always. He feels safe when you're behind the wheel, he trusts you enough to not be a passenger-seat driver like he would with Hizashi.

It's no secret you're a couple— that secret was out when Mic accidentally slipped up in the teacher's lounge one day. However, that didn't mean Aizawa would magically be open to physical affection in public. He's still getting used to the fact you're together; he's afraid to mess up the one good thing in his life. So he keeps his expressions of love subtle for the most part. A hand to your waist keeping you close in a crowded place. The shy tangling of his pinky finger around your own. That's as far as he can go in public, at least for now.

In private, though? He's bolder with his gentle expressions of love. Soft kisses to your knuckles. Scarred fingers gently tracing the shape of your eyes. In the car, he loves holding your hand. He likes tracing circles over the palm of your hand, adores how you bite back a giggle at how his touch tickles you

Touch reassures him you're there, helps him realize that you're there with him. Touch comforts him in knowing you're safe. Touch means he can feel your rhythmic pulse under the tips of his fingers whenever he caresses the skin of your wrist.

[navree]

Get to know the blogger

Tagged by my dearest @lemonhemlock

Share your wallpaper: my phone lock screen and home screen are me with my boss joe and me meeting ethel kennedy respectively. my old laptop's (that i still use for work stuff because it's the one that has word downloaded on it) wallpaper is a picture of alone together by maria kreyn, my current laptop's wallpaper is a detail of il bacio by francesco hayez.

Last song you listened to: i can't go on without you by kaleo.

Last Show: i'm rewatching the originals, i honestly could not tell you the last new tv show i consumed, closest i can get is that i recently finished a complete re-binge of all four seasons of wolf 359.

Craving: honestly just good ciabatta with some homemade mayo that my mom makes (it's more acidic than storebought because i like things acidic and we tend to eat it with asparagus). also a roast chicken.

What you are wearing right now: i'm feeling lazy cuz i'm done with school until the fall so i'm honestly in my loungewear, which is basically black cashmere sweatpants and my pajama top (it's beige).

How tall are you: 5'8.

Piercings: none, i have a horrendous pain tolerance.

Tattoos: none, see above.

Glasses or contacts: i am the only person in my immediate family who doesn't need glasses at all, i've got perfect vision. i lord it over my little sister constantly cuz she's basically blind as a bat.

Last drink: tap water with ice.

Last thing you ate: chicken rubbed in smoked paprika, onion powder, garlic powder, a bit of famous dave's, and olive oil, cooked in the pan with a bit of olive oil, a modified version of toum, leftover baguette, strawberries, and then a chocolate chip cookie. i'd planned on making rice but then i forgot.

Favorite color: red i think.

Current obsession: adhd means i've got twenty thousand on a given day that are all cycling through my head at top speed and have been for at least a year, but this week it appears to be batfam (bruce wayne was little amelie's very first blorbo) and an asoue resurgence due to the recent fandom gift exchange and all the subsequent content i've been consuming.

Favorite fictional character: right now, victor frankenstein.

The last place you traveled: my family splits our time between seattle and carmel, california, and as i'm in seattle right now, that means the last place i traveled was carmel.

Gently tagging (no pressure): whoever wants me to learn all of their secrets <3

[honey-milk-depresso]

Love Unholyc: S/o is a Coder

Heyyy~ so- I’m also kinda new to this fandom, and it’s quite a small one. I hope people come to know more of this game and I know it’s like a little...spicy..so, play at your own risk if ya don’t do spicy. But this is purely fluff (Okay, with some paprika spice. But it’s only a teaspoon-). Hope you enjoy!

Jung Hi

Oooh-

That’s so cool!!

When he first heard that, he thought you must be like some under agent hacker spy or something-

And we he saw you just coding and reading the python script,

he thought he saw some alien language on your computer.

That looks really complicated!

You must be really smart being able to crack codes, program them, and frickin’ read them.

From my personal learning experience,

learning coding from scratch, is definitely no easy tasks.

It requires a shit ton of patience and dedication to even continue your learning in coding.

So he thinks you’re such a strong and dedicated person!

Idk why, he would find it cute, but yeah he thinks your cute.

And I like to think you would most likely stay in an air conditioned room,

just wearing a poofy jacket cuz it’s super cold-

and he thinks you look cute in it but-

YOUR HEALTH MY DEAR-

LEAVE YOUR ROOM,

GET SOME FRESH AIR-

YA CAN’T JUST STAY IN THERE FOREVER-

he’s dragging you out of your room at least after 3 hours.

Aren’t your eyes soar????

He’s going to make sure you get all the hugs, the food, some exercise maybe, and of course the kisses.

Obviously-

He’s gonna pepper you in kisses in a cute manner cuz that’s who he is.

He loves you for who you are.

And it hurts him when you overwork yourself.

So please let this dear precious boy love you <3

Han Sol

Oh?

A coder?

I think during his mafia days, he must have hired coders and hackers to carry out searching secret information,

and like carry out blackmailing or something-

Idk-

But it doesn’t matter-

Cuz he thinks your python scripts are just-

like-

Holy frick what is he seeing??? Alien language????

Especially when there’s like, what-

3 screens your handling,

one with Atom , the interpreter-

Geez dude

It’s a bUnCH OF FRICKIN MATH-

And like I said, coding is very hard,

and takes a lot of patience and dedication from an individual,

you being able to master a very complex skill, shows how dedicated, willing and mentally strong of a person you are.

And he thinks it’s the most attractive thing about you-

I mean the big bonus is that you’re dead drop gorgeous obviously,

but personality is what is truly shows the real beauty of a person.

So he really admires and loves you for that.

Oh damn, pansexual Sol??? Count me in-

Ok but,

Like for Hi, I can see you stuck in your room 24/7 just coding-

Surviving on canned drinks, chips and leftovers.

So leave it to him to treat you real food.

Fresh, baked sweets, just cooked fresh, baked fresh, everything fresh fam-

He let’s you eat all his sweets and chocolates.

Okay but not too much.

He’s bringing you to go walk with him in a park,

and maybe give you a haircut once a month.

He will treat every one of your physical pain-

Even if your shoulders only feel slightly stiff,

he WILL massage you.

Lie back down.

He will give you love and care, s/o. <3

[ofwraithsandwords]

Ok, hot take time...

There needs to be more intimidating Hellsing OCs. Like just imagine Seras and Integra in a room and see the furniture just starting to shake a little bit as an OC just struts in and says, "Hey do you two want anything from the store when I go?" and they see a massive himbo that's as tall as Alucard and built like a tank and has a few scars on his face but he's smiling and dressed in colorful clothes. Like that would be so jarring in a good way.

I was just talking about OC stuff with a friend lol.

Yeah, honestly, I feel like it doesn't make a whole lot of sense when someone makes an OC for Hellsing and they're NOT intimidating in some way. I honestly can't think of a single character in Hellsing that isn't twisted, either in appearance or their actions. Maybe Schrödinger, but him jabbing himself with a knife to the jugular was pretty unsettling. And The Major is just pathetic, but he doesn't count lmao.

Another hot take though: it seems like a lot of the OCs in the fandom are...basically the same. It's the same thing over and over again. And what I mean is: skinny, conventionally attractive white girl. And please don't be mistaken: it's not the fact that the OCs are white, female, and good-looking that is the problem. The problem is just as I said: they're all the same—at least in appearance. No noticeable flaws, no disproportions, no defining traits that make them stand out and dynamic. Just...plain.

Now, here's the thing:

I'm no authority on OC creation. My own OCs always have room for development and, honestly, some of the design and power choices I've made for them are kinda bullshit. Which leads me to my next point.

It's not lost on me that OCs are made for fun. Admittedly, I'm pretty hard-core when it comes to making OCs and writing, but I know that this is just a hobby for most people. Something to enjoy and pass the time. I'm not going to tell anybody how they should live their life, for Christ's sake. Especially when it comes to imagining up fictional characters.

This is just my opinion. It's certainly criticism, but no one is obliged to take it. And it's certainly not my intention to discourage anyone from making an OC that might fall under this category. I mean, shit, I'm just some random bitch on the Internet. My opinion only matters as much as you're willing to have it matter.

But if you are worried about your OC now (because I know a lot of you have anxiety like I do too tbh), you don't have to change your OC fundamentally and rewrite the whole character. Start small. Things like freckles, a big nose, a little scar, a gold tooth, a birth mark, etc, etc. There's nothing wrong with making an attractive OC or even making your idealized self. Just sprinkle little details in there, ya know?

Like...Hungarian paprika. Something that would make Jonathan Harker love you.

[journalofimprobablethings]

a recipe for home

Author: journalofimprobablethings

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Summary: 

Taako tries to cook for the first time since Glamour Springs. When things go awry, Lucretia is there to lend a hand.

Full fic under the cut, but this you can also find me on AO3!

Preview:

Living in the headquarters of the Bureau of Balance makes Taako nervous.

It’s not just the giant brainwashing jellyfish, or the weapons of mass destruction they're hunting, or the fact that it’s a literal moon base floating in the sky--that’s all weird, sure, but he’s Taako. He can deal with weird.

It’s the sense of deja vu he gets just walking around the place, the feeling that he’s been somewhere like this before. It’s the fact that so many things about it feel so damn familiar. The details of the place that feel right in a way he can’t explain. 

The deja vu is constant and sometimes overwhelming. He knows he's never lived anywhere like this--he’s pretty sure he would remember living in the sky--but he still can’t shake the feeling. If he tries to think about it too hard, his head buzzes like the beginning of a hangover and the thin needle of a headache starts to pierce his skull. So he doesn’t look at the feeling straight on. But he worries the edges of it sometimes, as he’s lying in his bunk listening to Magnus and Merle’s snores. 

He’s never had a place like this, never been part of a team like this. He’s always been alone. So why does this place--why do these people, Magnus and Merle and the Director and even, weirdly, Davenport--why do they feel so much like home?

-

The kitchen in the residential wing is the worst--or the best, depending on how you look at it. It’s small, just a tiny galley kitchen for the Bureau members to use if they don’t feel like going to the mess hall, and everything about it feels right. He’s never felt so immediately comfortable in a new kitchen before. He finds himself reaching for a spoon or a pan without thinking, and there it is, exactly where he expected. It’s as if somehow his body already has muscle memory for this place he’s never been. It’s the strangest thing.

Maybe that’s what makes him decide to actually try cooking again.

He hasn’t made anything more complicated than a peanut butter sandwich since Glamour Springs. Every time he thinks about trying, about cutting and assembling ingredients, about transmuting anything, his hands begin to shake, and the echo of forty people choking and gasping for breath sounds through his head. Before he came here, he’d barely set foot in a kitchen in six years.

But for some reason, this damn kitchen calms his fears, at least enough to pull out a pot and prepare himself a packet of instant ramen. Even he, he reasons, can’t mess up noodles and a flavor packet. He only ever cooks for himself, though, never for the others. He plays it off as selfishness-- get your own food, homie, I gave Garfield good elf hair for this shit --and hopes that Merle just thinks he’s an asshole for knocking the spoon out of his hand when he tries to steal a bite. Even he can’t mess up noodles and a flavor packet--but he had thought garlic chicken was a simple enough recipe, too.

--

Now, he’s standing at the stove, testing the waters in his mind. It’s late, Merle and Magnus long asleep, but after hours of lying in his bunk staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about all the questions this place raises in him, he’d given up on sleeping himself and made his way down to the kitchen. If he’s going to try, the middle of the night is a good time: no one around to disturb him, or ask for a taste.

Taako pulls a pot from the cabinet to the right of the stove, just where he thought it would be, and sets it on the burner. His heart is pounding in his ears, but his hands are steady, the ghosts of Glamour Springs so far silent.

Rice, he thinks. Rice is simple, easy. He’ll start with rice.

After a quick survey of the food stores he's found bacon in the fridge, pigeon peas and capers in the pantry, a container of cubes in the freezer labeled “sofrito” -- who in the Bureau cooks enough to make and freeze sofrito? he thinks. But he’s not complaining, because now he knows what he’s making: arroz con gandules, Tía Elsa’s recipe, a recipe engrained in his bones. There are enough spices in the cabinet to approximate sazón--no banana leaves to cover the pot, but Titi Elsa only did that half the time anyway, maybe if we had a banana tree in the front yard, mijo, but I’m not making a special trip just for leaves. Foil’s fine.

He assembles the ingredients on the tiny square of counter next to the stove, pulls out a cutting board and a knife. Takes a deep breath. 

And begins.

He heats the pot, cuts the bacon into thick dice and adds it in. The motions are easy, practiced, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he falls into the familiar recipe. While the bacon crisps he turns his attention to the army of spice bottles he’s pulled from the rack. He starts mixing them in a small bowl, measuring them by eye in his hand. Garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, coriander. He’s missing annatto seeds, but there’s paprika, easy enough to transmute one to the other--

He stops, staring into the bowl, his hand smudged with red powder.

He did the magic without thinking, a simple shift in flavors, but now he’s staring at the bowl and the smudge on his hand and he’s thinking of elderberry and nightshade and the sound of a town choking to death on his mistakes--

“Taako?”

The voice is distant, he can barely hear it over the ghosts crowding his head.

“Taako, are you alright?”

A hand touches his shoulder, tentatively, and he flinches away from the touch but it pulls him into the present enough for him to open his eyes and see who's talking to him.

The Director is standing in front of him, a blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders and concern in her eyes.

Of all the people to find him like this, it had to be her.

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” he says, trying for nonchalance, but he can’t stop his voice from shaking. “No worries here, Taako’s good--”

He reaches out to steady himself on the counter, but he misses and catches the edge of the spice bowl, tipping it over the edge. It shatters at their feet, spilling its contents across the floor in an aromatic slash of orange and red and brown.

"Shit," Taako says. "Fucking shit."

He reaches down to clear up the mess, and the world tilts and he almost falls over. Then the Director’s hands are on his shoulders, no longer tentative, catching him before he can fall. She steers him to the table at one end of the narrow kitchen, and guides him, gently but firmly, into a chair.

“Sit.” 

He does, and the world tilts again.

“Breathe,” the Director says, and yes, that’s why the world is tilting, because he’s not breathing, but how does he do that? He leans forward and puts his head between his knees, and manages to suck in a shaky breath.

“That’s it,” she says, “Just breathe.” She’s somewhere nearby but now that he’s seated she’s no longer touching him. He can hear her breathing, though, slow and even, and he tries to focus on that, to match his breath to hers.

It takes a few minutes to even out his breathing, and another few to silence the ghosts whispering in his ears. But finally he lifts his head and looks up at the Director. She’s crouched next to him, a small furrow of concern between her brows, and Taako has the strange urge to reach up and smooth the furrow away. He clenches his hands into fists.

He should probably say thank you, but he's angry with himself and embarrassed that she's seen him this way and so what comes out instead is,

“What are you doing down here?”

It’s a rude question for an employee to ask their boss, but she doesn’t seem to mind. 

“I was working late and came down to make some tea." She studies him. “You were cooking.” She says it so carefully, and not for the first time, Taako wonders just how much the Director knows about their pasts.

He’s afraid she’ll ask what set him off, ask if he wants to talk about it , and he doesn’t think he could handle that. He’s had enough of being vulnerable in front of her for the moment. So he straightens in his chair, pulls his nonchalance back over himself like armor.

“Yeah, you know, sometimes you just need something better than the crap we get in the dining hall.”

He waits for his words to provoke her, for her to stand and say something kind but brusque and leave. But she doesn’t. Instead she just sighs and looks back at the kitchen, surveys the ingredients on the counter, the spilled bowl of spices on the floor. "Gandules?" she asks, and Taako raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah."

She hesitates, and then says the most remarkable thing.

“Would you like some help?” 

He stares at her. Of all the things he might have expected her to say, that wasn’t on the list. She sounds different, somehow--less distant, less lofty. She sounds younger. 

“Listen, not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but don’t you have important Director-y things to do? Or you know, sleep to catch?”

She smiles thinly. “Sleep is a lost cause tonight, I think,” she says. “And even administrators have to eat sometimes.”

Maybe it's because of that change in her voice, or the fact that she didn’t try to make him talk about the spell he just had. Maybe it's because, against all odds, the Director's presence in this kitchen is strangely comforting. Whatever the reason, he doesn't push away her help the way he normally would. Instead he just shrugs and waves a hand.

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

The Director smiles, drapes her shawl over a chair out of the way, and gets to work. She clears up the spilled spices and shards of bowl, removes the now overly-crisped bacon from the pot, drops in cubes of sofrito to melt and fry in the drippings, and soon the kitchen is full of the mouthwatering smell of cooking onion and pepper and cilantro. It smells like Titi Elsa and home, and the band of anxiety around Taako’s chest begins to loosen.  

Taako watches the Director as she measures out the rice and adds it to the pot to toast, then mixes the spices in a new bowl, measuring them in her hand just as he had. She cooks slowly, like she’s having to remind herself of what comes next, but she goes through the steps of making the arroz exactly as he would.

Deja vu, he thinks.

“Where’d you learn to cook this?” he asks. “You spend some time in New Elfington or something?”

The Director doesn’t answer right away. Her hand pauses in its stirring, as though she’s considering what to say, and when she does answer her eyes are far away.

“My brother taught me,” she says quietly.

The answer surprises him. The Director is one of those people who is so private, so self-contained, that it’s hard to imagine her with a family, a life outside the Bureau. Taako tries to picture the Director younger, more carefree perhaps, standing side by side with her brother in the kitchen. But something about the image makes his head hurt, so he stops.

He wonders what her brother was like, and where he is now.

He thinks it must be nice, to have a sibling, someone to teach you to cook, to be at your side through good times and bad. Someone who would miss and mourn you if you were gone. The thought makes his chest ache with something like longing and something like grief.

So much of this place and these people make him feel this way, this confusing mix of longing and sorrow and comfort. He hates it, because he doesn't understand it, doesn’t know why it’s happening at all. These people mean nothing to him. He just met them. He doesn't care about them, he certainly doesn’t need them. He has never needed anyone.

This is what he tells himself, but as he leans back in his chair and watches the Director cook, he can't help but admit that it's the most at home he's felt in a long time.

---

Lucretia knows that this is a stupid risk.

She's supposed to be keeping her distance. She's supposed to be the Director: professional, dignified, distant . She's not supposed to let them catch her wandering to the kitchen late at night, and she's certainly not supposed to be in said kitchen cooking one of Taako's aunt's recipes for him--one of the ones that he absolutely forbade her to ever write down. (She'd watched him make it until she'd memorized the steps well enough to make it on her own. She's tried it a few times, since the redaction, and it has come out fine, but never as good as his.)

She's breaking all the rules she's set for herself, all the boundaries she's put up to keep her story in place, to keep them safe. She's putting everything at risk.

But when she came into the kitchen and saw Taako staring blankly at that bowl of spices, the smudge of paprika on his palm, helping him wasn’t even a question. She knows what happened at Glamour Springs, and she knows how hard cooking is for him now. She'd hoped the kitchen might help. It's modeled after the one on the Starblaster, laid out just the same, one of the places she couldn't bring herself to let go of.

And now it seems it's just made everything worse.

Maybe it's the guilt that makes her offer to finish the dish, so at least Taako can have a taste of home, even if it's not as good as his or his aunt's. Or maybe, she admits to herself, it's pure selfishness. Standing here in this kitchen with Taako, surrounded by the smells of his cooking, she can almost pretend that nothing has changed.

Until Taako speaks.

"Where'd you learn to cook this?" he asks, and her heart constricts in her chest.

She considers, and when she finally responds, it feels like the closest thing to truth she’s given him in weeks.

She remembers the first time she watched him make this dish, in that tiny galley kitchen on the Starblaster. They had lost Lup early that cycle, a venomous snakebite that acted too fast for Merle to be able to help. Taako retreated into himself the way he always did when Lup was gone, but when she offered to help out preparing the meals, he didn’t say no. He was prickly and short, and half the time he would take the knife out of her hand to finish chopping something himself if she was moving too slow. But he let her stay, and watch, and she soaked up everything he was doing as well as she could.

The last day of the cycle, she and Taako were in the kitchen early, and Taako made his aunt’s arroz con gandules, one of the dishes she had always made for Candlenights. He wouldn’t let Lucretia help at all. She stayed with him anyway, as the sky darkened with the coming Hunger and the light dimmed, and by the time Davenport flew them out of that plane and the threads of light pulled them apart, the pot sat covered and ready on the stove. Lup returned to a tackling hug from Taako, and a bowl of rice that tasted like home.

It was several cycles before he actually taught her how to make it, and several more before she cooked it on her own. Of all the things that he taught her to make, it was always one of her favorites, and she made it at the Bureau because it reminded her of that day, that feeling of reunion.

She only hopes they'll get there again, one day.

Gods, she misses him. She misses all of them. She hadn’t realized how peculiar a grief it was, to miss someone who is sitting right in front of you. To look in the eyes of someone who you’ve known for a century and see nothing but wariness and disinterest.

Every time she thinks she's become accustomed to it, something new appears; they do or say something that leaves her shattered.

Every time, it feels a little harder to put herself back together.

--

“Your rice is burning,” Taako says from the table.

Lucretia comes back to herself and realizes he’s right: the nutty smell of the toasting rice is now tinged with bitterness, and when she stirs there are dark flecks of the grains that have caught at the bottom of the pan.

She curses softly and grabs for the tomato sauce, which hisses and bubbles immediately as she adds it.

It’s been a long time since she let herself wander down those back paths of her memories. She’s avoided it for good reason: it hurts too much, and no good can come of it. For a moment, here, seduced by the familiarity, she allowed herself to drop her guard. 

And worse, she let Taako see.

The empty tomato sauce can clatters as she drops it too quickly onto the counter.

“You all right, there, Madam Director?”

She shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous, for him, for her, for the plan. She’s supposed to keep them at arm’s length so that they don’t ask questions, don’t try to follow her down those back paths to places their minds can’t go right now. She’d seen Taako wince when she’d mentioned her brother, because of course that would make him try to think of things that the voidfish has erased, and yet she'd continued on, losing herself in the comfort of the moment and ignoring the danger.

How could she have been so stupid?

She'll finish the dish, because she said she would. What comes next? Toast the rice, tomato sauce and then--what? She stares into the bubbling pot, trying to tamp down the panic clawing at her throat as it always does when she forgets something from the century. She knows this, it's--

"Here."

Taako's voice cuts into her thoughts. She blinks and he is standing next to her, holding the bowl of spices. She hadn't even noticed him get up.

He doesn't ask what's wrong, doesn't even tease her for forgetting what comes next. He just holds out the bowl to her. She takes it, and he doesn't comment on the fact that now it is her hands that are shaking.

"Thank you."

She pours the spices in, and by the time she's done he already has the next ingredient in hand.

They finish the rest of the recipe like that, together, Taako handing her each ingredient in turn. Then she adds just enough water to cover the rice up to her knuckle, and the heat is turned high to bring it to a boil. She and Taako tidy the kitchen without discussion while the water heats, and Lucretia wonders if Taako notices how easily they move around each other in this space, how familiar the dance of dishes and drying and putting away.

The water boils, and they reduce it to a simmer and cover the pot with foil, nesting the lid on top. And then it's done, nothing left to do but wait while the pot bubbles quietly away.

“I should go,” she says quietly. “It’s late.”

"I thought sleep was for the weak, or whatever," Taako says.

"There's always work to do," she replies. She picks up her shawl from the chair and surveys him. "Will you be alright?" 

He flashes a peace sign at her. "I think I know how to tell when rice is done. I'm golden."

"You know what I mean."

Their eyes meet, and for a moment there is a connection there, an understanding. It's not what they had before, of course, not even close. But it's not nothing, either.

"I'm good," he says.

She nods and turns to go, but his voice stops her before she gets to the door.

"Hey, Director?"

She turns. "Yes?"

He starts to say something, then stops, and his shoulders go up in a sort of helpless half-shrug. 

“Thanks.”

She smiles at that.

"You're welcome, Taako."

--

The next morning, Lucretia comes into her office to find a covered bowl sitting on her desk. Next to it is a note, and she recognizes the looping scrawl instantly.

Not bad, Madam D.

She smiles and uncovers the bowl. Even though it must have been hours since he placed it there, the rice is still steaming.

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

I didn't leave it there...

I didn't leave it there... by Seasoned Paprika

Bakugou keeps losing various articles of clothing, he doesn't get mad. At least not at first, until one of his favorite band T-shirts went missing. Whoever took it was asking for it. What he didn't know is that he'd been leaving them in Todoroki's room.

(Prompt because I didn't feel comfortable putting it in the tags: Lost item.)

Words: 1046, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Fluff, Attempt at Humor, I'm so not funny lmaoo, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakusquad, Quirk Shenanigans, Pining Bakugou Katsuki, Pining Todoroki Shouto, Pre-Relationship

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763796

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Hey. I hope you're feeling better. Ehm can you write a Theo Draco and Hermione singing. I mean idk if there's something like magical karaoke but the three of them singing uwu

Much better, thank you! Sorry I’ve sat on this for so long. Life got crazy busy. It’s not karaoke, but it does involve them singing together... I hope you enjoy it!

Set just after finishing Hogwarts, perhaps as Hermione starts her first job at the Ministry, but she’s dating Theo and Draco. It feels as though it would fit with my All That’s Best of Dark and Bright universe as a ‘later’ fic, but it stands alone well enough I think! 

___

“Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? 

It's left me for a spell…”

.

Hermione stood by the stove and stirred the garlic, orzo, paprika, sweetcorn and tomato into the already cooking chorizo and onion in the pan, humming softly to herself and swaying in time with the song in her head.  

The boys weren’t due for another fifteen minutes at least, and she wanted it all perfect for their first time over at her flat. Admittedly it wasn’t the fine grandeur they were used to with their respective mansions and upbringings, but she hoped they’d feel comfortable there all the same.  

She’d adjusted her wards on the floo to let them come and go, but so far they had yet to take her up on her open door policy. For some reason they had both proved skittish about pushing her or invading her privacy.  

  “But I don't mind, 'cause with you I find 

I'm always feeling well...

.

  — two, three, four! 

You charmed the heart right out of me” 

  She shuffled the contents of the pan around as she started the second verse, hair swinging wildly in its ponytail as she bobbed about, and nearly leapt out of her skin when hands closed on her waist and Theo crooned the next lines softly over her shoulder. 

.

“Don't need no broom, I'm flying free 

I think by now it's plain to see 

I'm nothing without you… ” 

.

He finished with a chuckle and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Hello, love,” he said. “We’re a bit early.” 

“So I see,” she said archly, looking over her shoulder to find Draco standing behind him by the fireplace. They were both wearing muggle clothing, which was odd but very welcome. Draco had light blue and still extremely expensive looking jeans on and a smart white shirt that made him look like a model, and Theo sported a darker pair of jeans and a slate grey, round-necked jumper.  

“Celestina Warbeck?” Draco drawled. “Really?” 

She quirked her lips at him and brandished the wooden spoon as if about to start a duel with him. “Judge not, Malfoy. Or no supper for you.” 

With an answering twitch of his mouth, he bowed his head theatrically low.  

Hermione turned back to the stove but went still when she heard his rough, musical baritone as he approahced from behind her. 

.

  “Your every wish is my command 

My fragile heart is in your hand 

And now, at last, I understand 

The magic about you…”

.

She swallowed and as he set his hands on her hips and nipped playfully at her ear, she breathed, “I didn’t know you could sing, Draco…” And he really could. His voice was beautiful.  

In answer, he took up the next part of the refrain, with Theo’s slightly less secure warble for support, and he punctuated the lines of the song with a succession of kisses further and further down her neck until she was shivering and leaning back into him.

  “I'm losing all control 

My chest is one big hole 

Inside you'll see my soul 

Happy as can be 

'Cause, babe, you charmed the heart right out of me!” 

___

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

___

writing masterlist | Ao3

[existentialvoidofexistence]

50 questions tag

Tagged by @inevitable-anna

1) what colour is your hairbrush? I have a black comb that i use sometimes, but I rarely brush my hair unless I’m washing it bc it goes frizzy and I’m very lucky to never get knots

2) name a food you never eat. Anything with soy sauce

3) are you usually too hot or too cold? Both, sometimes at the same time

4) what were you doing 45 minutes ago? Sleeping I think

5) what’s your favourite candy bar? Cadburies fruit & nut

6) have you ever been to a professional sports game? Yeah it sucked i hate football, but the local basketball team is pretty cool

7) what’s the last thing you said out loud? Yelling “love you too” down the stairs to my dad as I got ready for bed I think

8) what’s your favourite ice cream? Not a big fan of ice cream but either a 99 or ben & jerries phish food

9) what was the last thing you had to drink? Excluding water bc that’s boring it would have been slightly flat irn bru

10) do you like your wallet? Idk I don’t particularly have strong feelings about my wallet it’s okay I guess

11) what was the last thing you ate? Pizza I think

12) did you buy any new clothes this weekend? No but I bought this case.

13) what’s the last sporting event you watched? Bold of you to assume I would willingly watch sports

14) what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn? Salt is the only acceptable flavour

15) who was the last person you texted? I’m assuming sc messages count so the gc with my sister and my ex-gf-turned-best-friend

16) ever been camping? Many times I love it

17) do you take vitamins? Not particularly i do occasionally though

18) do you go to church every Sunday? Im not Christian so no

19) do you have a tan? Only on my arms

20) do you prefer chinese or pizza? Pizza, but like proper homemade/restaurant pizza not shitty takeaway pizza. If ur getting a takeaway get curry or fish and chips they’re the best.

21) do you drink pop with a straw? If they give me a straw yeah but i wont go out of my way to get one

22) what colour socks do you usually wear? i only replaced my school socks last week so probably still white

23) do you drive over the speed limit? I don’t have a full license yet so I don’t drive

24) what terrifies you? Dead bugs and also Adolphus Huxley’s A Brave New World. And lowkey moomins.

25) look to the left what do you see? Cheese

~~~ several weeks later ~~

26) what chore do you hate the most? So long as my brother also has to do chores I’m not fussed

27) what do you think when you hear an Australian accent? Ongoing genocide and systematic oppression of the indigenous peoples

28) what’s your favourite kind of pop? Irn bru

29) fast food or drive in? Neither i can make much better food myself thanks

30) what’s your favourite number? 11

31) who’s the last person you talked to? My mum

32) favourite cut of beef? Mince but u gotta season it with nutmeg and stock and either worcestershire sause or paprika and cumin and be at least 50% carrot or ur doing it wrong

33) last song you listened to? What If Tomorrow Comes (I finally watched Black Friday with my sister)

34) last book you read? The Wide Awake Princess by E.D. Baker (shhhh i loved it as a kid)

35) Can you say the alphabet backwards? lol nah

36) favourite day of the week? Thursday bc it’s D&D day

37) how do you like your coffee? In tiramisu

38) favourite pair of shoes? My comfy red boots, my black low-heeled combat boots, or my nice tan sandals, depending on my outfit and the occasion

39) what time do you usually wake up? 9:30-10:30

40) sunrise or sunset? Sunrise

41) how many blankets are on your bed? One and a duvet but its too hot for either rn

42) describe your kitchen plates. Old and white

43) describe your kitchen at the moment. Smells nice

44) do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? Probably some kind of cocktail but I haven’t been to a restaurant or pub since turning 18 bc lockdown so my opinions are currently limited to “beer and wine/champagne/prosecco suck” and “vodka and cider are ok I guess”

45) do you play cards? You’re not really on holiday unless you play cards at least every other day

46) what colour is your car? Don’t have one but the family one’s grey

47) can you change a tyre? I’ve never even seen anyone change a tyre

48) favourite state/country/provence? Almería! We used to go to a lil town called Huercál and it was great. Especially the restaurant/bar thing just out of town, it was run by a guy called Eneth and there was a big-ass open fire at the end of the room where he cooked everything, and also a bunch of dogs and birds - if ur in the area go see if it’s still there for me 💚

49) favourite job you’ve ever had? The week i spent working at the children’s trust charity in the accounting department (it was work experience dw im not useless enough to get fired after a week)

50) how did you get your biggest scar? idk which is biggest probably the one from where i whacked my head on the shutter of an ice cream stall and had to get it glued back together

~~~

Tagging @femmebos @mexicanfairy @clockwork--frog @aveasorae @lilolilyr @showstoppingnumbrr @just-a-side-kick @a-little-slice-of-fandom @sunflowermycelium @mischief-pixie @jane-seemore @lucyisanerd @spiiderbiites @youvebeengnomed @peanutworm @cliyoh @sunrise-designer @isappho @woulddieforkhoward @the10amongstthese3s @bi-owen-harper @writingvenusian @the-quiver-of-aros @dontforgetpluto

(Obviously theres no obligation to fo it its rlly long but like... I love y’all and im interested)