#feed snowy a cheese

[eklesia-system]

Hello, I am a Snowy, I'm practicing a human talk so I sound like a human. :0 Wah!

I'm getting better a wah. Now I can sentences. I can make a sentence a wah. I've been a good Snowy. I can have cheese. :0

-Snowy

[andypantsx3]

thinking about dragon shouto.

as a child you come across what you think is a weird fat lizard the size of a cat, playing in the fields just outside of your village. it's got a mesmerizing pattern of ruby red scales overlapping snowy white ones, and two little nubby horns at either side of its head.

it spends the afternoon napping on a sun-warmed rock nearby, blinking at you with strange, mismatched eyes whenever you come over to stare at it. you feed it some of the berries you'd gathered for your own snack, and it seems to like them, nosing around in your hand for more after it's finished them. when you leave, it curls its tail around itself and watches you go with a solemn stare.

you see it several more times out in the fields after that, always bringing it little treats—the crust of your morning bread, some cheese, a rainbow of berries from the bushes at the edge of the forest. it's patient when you prod it curiously, running your fingers over the strange little flaps on its back that look almost like they could unfold into wings. it seems to like when you do that, eyes falling closed, and you swear you hear it snuffle softly.

it skitters home with you then, and your family shits themselves when they realize you've dragged home a dragon. it's a toddler same as you, and a male as far as they can tell. but it's too late to get rid of him—dragons are notoriously possessive creatures, and any attempt made to separate you two is met with a flash of tiny fangs, a jet of fire, and a case of lizard stink eye so mean it's like he's trying to scald the flesh off of people with his stare alone.

and after that, you're his and he's yours.

you name him shouto—a person's name—because he seems so much like his own person, all his wants and needs communicated clearly. he goes with you everywhere until he becomes too large to fit into buildings, first reaching the size of a horse, then your family's thatched hut. by the time you reach your majority, he's the size of the smithy in the village center.

and then, not a few months after your own birthday, he comes into his majority, and with it, his full powers.

and that's how you find yourself confronted with over six feet of very naked, very handsome man—with split red-and-white hair, and two mismatched eyes, and an incredibly familiar possessiveness over you...

[kiya-buggie]

hi gnag it’s me the boi

uh

My son I’ll be back to pick him up in a bit, pls feed him his fruits and veggies

AND NO CANDY.

he is grounded for biting me.

his name is Snowy. Please take good care of him. (Ik he’s an ikea alien plushie idc he’s my son)

Hey little fella!! Also aww, he bit u? Let him be! He's a sweetie!!!!

*hugs him*

I gave him a tiny bit of candy, but I gave him a fruit smoothie and mac n cheese!!!

[wingsabovethebridge]

Photos cheesely named in order:

Presenting, Snow Crows!:

1. "I am zen."

2. "The complainer"--snow keeps hitting me in the beak!

3. "I got you some food"

4. The "I grabbed a shell instead of the actual peanut" look 🤦🏾‍♀️

5. "The wing stretch"

6. "I'm still stretching"

7. "Get over here so I can fix that messed up neck fluff"--Hekyll was preening another crow.

The crows were around the house and me, when I got outside, for hours--well into noon (I suppose what better way to spend a snowstorm than around a two legged treat dispenser?). I was pretty suprised as I usually don't feed them in this type of weather, and didn't expect them to come. In fact they usually *don't* come when it's rainy or snowy weather because of this.

I happened to be off from work and I heard Hekyll and Jekyll outside (along with Munin and the four youngsters). They seemed patiently waiting, and then their usual antics began! Hekyll being a queen, the young ones getting into trouble, Jekyll flying off towards his own corner and Munin trying to ignore everyone while they crowded around a single branch.

[lucysweatslove]

(Tw ED related stuff under the readmore, this time talking about purging too)

(Don’t worry I’m safe/fine and didn’t engage in any disordered behavior)

So y’all know how I went on a hike yesterday and saw beautiful foresty sights?

Well idk how many calories I actually burned because fuck that, but I was out for a while, about 2.5 hours of actual moving but that involves very slow going on snowy patches. I spent maybe half an hour total with taking pics or stopping for a snack midway, some of that time getting low underneath trees to get closer to the creek (which was very active!).

Anyway, I was SUPER HUNGRY yesterday which is totally fine because 2.5 hours of activity requires fuel.

But today I’ve been having like a really hard time feeling full and satisfied, which is probably also related to hiking. Doubly annoying is that my body doesn’t want protein. Like I had a protein heavy breakfast but needed to pair it with potatoes (which, like carrots, are absolutely not a vegetable 😉) and toast because alone the idea of eggs and a vegan sausage like. I felt nauseated thinking about it.

Now I believe my body is trying to replenish its glycogen and is like “feed me carbs so I can continue to take you on hikes through knee deep snow!” which is fine but I don’t make carb heavy meals. Like they just aren’t in my repertoire of things to cook. And the few I do make that are carb heavy are also still protein heavy- like a turkey bagel sandwich is carb heavy because carbs in bagel, but I also put goat cheese (maybe with avo) and deli turkey on it and have vegetables and dip which I like with yogurt. Even my pasta is more protein heavy because I use lentil pasta (I honestly love the taste). Anyway most of the meals I know how to make and can do without much executive planning will have 25-35g protein in it.

And my body today is just not wanting it. I try, and the moment meat is being cooked, or cooked meat is being prepared, or I even smell the yogurt or milk, I literally feel so sick.

I could just eat carby things alone but something about it ALSO felt wrong- like just a bagel? Boring. Bagel with jam? Also boring. Also, snacky. I couldn’t bring myself to actually make a meal- even like, cutting up fruit I just couldn’t do. It didn’t make any sense to me. So after breakfast I finished an older protein bar I had forgotten about from last week, and then just didn’t eat.

Husband made (quite large) garlic knots tonight to use up old pizza dough. THIS smelled divine. I ate one- still hungry. Second- still hungry. Third- why tf am I still hungry? He only made 6, 3 for me and 3 for him, so I couldn’t have another one. So I was rummaging through the cabinets and remembered all the candy and treats we got on Sunday. I still had some of those, so I finished off the licorice and hello panda cookies (maybe 1-1.5 “recommended servings” left for each), have a couple pieces of fruit mochi, even have some coffee candies and a lychee gummy because they sounded super good. I was sipping water throughout too, as I do throughout the day.

But nope, still hungry. And now I’m craving something salty. Like great I satisfied my need for carbs, but my body is still hungry and is now wanting salt. So I have a couple handfuls of cashews. Keep in mind this is all spread out around 3.5 hours. It’s not all at once. I’m giving myself time to eat, to get it in my body, have my hormones adjust to the new fuel, etc.

Finally, after the cashews, I feel ACTUALLY satisfied and full. Not sick full but like, appropriate full. The full that means I won’t be hungry at an inappropriate time but I’m not over full. No more cravings. Like “move on with your life” full.

But what does my brain decide to do with this? It’s like I’m 19 or 20 again and my brain is saying “nope we can’t feel full, hunger is good, get rid of it.” (Note: I primarily exercise purged, so this little voice isn’t just like throw it up or abuse laxatives, which I also have done, but also “count up all the calories, try to estimate, and then go to the gym and burn it all off, you haven’t gone since Tuesday!”)

It’s just this small little instinctual urge which is likely coming up because stress and new scholastic endeavors and being forced to have people perceive me. Just got me in that old headspace again because of situational similarities.

Also: the fact that it was cashews that did it at the very end is killing me. Like not even after the mochi or the lychee gummy. Something with micronutrients and very very much needed salt because I DO get dizzy without it. Something traditionally considered “healthy.” THAT is what turned ED brain on. It’s literally about how full or empty I feel and how many calories I believe I’ve eaten vs burned in a day. Doesn’t matter where it’s from. Oats or chocolate or molasses or fucking carrots or nuts.

I’m just annoyed that even this far into/past recovery, my brain still goes back ten years when my body literally just feels NORMAL. Ten years into recovery and my brain is STILL triggered sometimes just by *actually feeling fully and completely satisfied.*

Anyway: I’m totally safe, not going to do anything, it was just like this little whisper of old times which I can easily tell to stfu now, but these moments are so rare I forget they exist and when they come back, it’s just a reminder that I will likely always have them trying to peak through stressful times.

[loveyourlovelysoul]

random person meeting me in my childhood: aww what a nice cute tranquil little baby you must be

me: ^-^

me actually: reaches 40 kmh on a sled while sliding from a snowy mountain top down straight towards a lake (parents run behind her for meters yelling her to stop); almost drowns in 30 cms of water at the sea cause of a sudden wave (gets fished back by her father that was holding her hand); falls while dancing and cuts her ear in 2 (needs stitches); falls from a (broken) swing and cuts her lower lip (cutting its connection with the gum, would need stitches the doctor doesn't want to give her them); daily hurts/wounds her legs while going on a toy car (generally too lazy to get down and push it back uphill, so just walks and gets hit by the pedals) or running (and falling, ofc); randomly hits her head against anything and everything; ends up walking in a lake in autumn while trying to feed ducks; needs to sing random songs to move while hiking; leaves a puddle of water (sweat and snow) through the stairs and in the kitchen after having been playing for an hour in the snow; cries after having squeezed a toy (very very young though); makes random military paths with chairs and sofas; makes her house under a desk (why having it on a tree, ig); sticks all the stickable things on every stickable wall (or book); needs music to sleep/chill; dances and sings all the times (occasionally while eating cheese too); can't walk and eat ice cream at the same time or will end up needing to change all her clothes...

[tracybirds]

And continuing on from Part 1 (Base Game), for those simmers with a bit more experience, I have a fuller challenge :D Many of the goals crossover, but I thought the different ones were a bit more true to the characters... in as Sims a way as possible :D

Packs Required:

Expansion  Packs:

Get to Work

Get Together

Cats and Dogs

Snowy Escape

Island Living

Discover University

Eco Lifestyle

Game Packs:

StrangerVille

Bonus Characters require the following ADDITIONAL Game Packs:

Parenthood

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Let’s not discuss how much money I’ve spent on this game lolol

As before, see below for the challenge :D

Jeff Tracy

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Traits: Self Assured, Perfectionist, Ambitious

Career: Astronaut, Business (Management branch)

Goals:

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Reach Level 7 of the Astronaut career then switch careers after the birth of your third child to the Business career

Earn the Entrepreneurial and the Connections traits

Move to a private island when reaching Level 10 of the Business (Management branch) career

Build a rocket from scratch and travel to Sixam

---

Scott Tracy

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Traits: Self-Assured, Active, Family Oriented

Career: Military (Officer branch), Business (Management branch)

Goals:

Complete the Leader of the Pack Aspiration by establishing an International Rescue Club

Join the Military, and then switch careers into Business when your father dies

Max out the Fitness and Charisma skills

Earn the Entrepreneurial and the Connections traits

Reach Level 5 of the Scouts “career” (for children/teens)

---

Virgil Tracy

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire and Musical Genius (or Renaissance Sim if two is overwhelming)

Traits: Creative, Good, Music Lover

Career: Engineer (Mechanical Engineer branch)

Goals:

Complete both the Painter Extraordinaire and the Musical Genius Aspirations

Unlock the ExoMech suit with the Mechanical Engineering career

Max out the Painting, Piano, Handiness and Fabrication skills

Develop the Coffee Fanatic Lifestyle

Paint a portrait of every member of your family

---

John Tracy

Aspiration: Academic and Computer Whiz

Traits: Loner, Genius, Self-Assured

Career: Engineer (Computer Engineer branch), Astronaut (Space Ranger branch)

Goals:

Complete the Academic and the Computer Whiz Aspirations

Gain three distinguished degrees (Recommend: Physics, Computer Science, Communications) then complete the Computer Engineer and the Astronaut Careers

Max out the Programming, Logic and Rocket Science Skills

Earn the Never Weary reward trait

Complete the Space Print Collection (using the Telescope)

---

Kayo Kyrano

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Traits: Active, Loves Outdoors, Adventurous

Career: Engineer, Military (Covert Operator branch)

Goals:

Complete the Extreme Sports Enthusiast Aspiration

Reach Level 5 of the Engineer career, before switching to the Military (Covert Operator branch)

Max out the Fitness and Rock Climbing skills

Earn the Observant rewards trait

Grow and graft plants to create a personal cowplant. Feed an enemy to your new cowplant – kidding! 😊 (or am I *eyes the Hood *)

---

Gordon Tracy

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Goofball, Outgoing

Career: Lifeguard, Conservationist (Marine Biologist)

Goals:

Complete the Friend of the World Aspiration

Swim laps every day and work part-time as a lifeguard until midway through Young Adulthood, then switch to and complete Conservationist (Marine Biologist) career

Max out the Comedy, Charisma and Mischief skills

Earn the Incredible Friendly, Shameless, and Carefree reward traits

Unlock and complete the Secret Grilled Cheese Aspiration

---

Alan Tracy

Aspiration: StrangerVille Mystery,  Computer Whiz

Traits: Adventurous, Insider, Cheerful

Career: Tech Guru (eSport Gamer branch)

Goals:

Complete the StrangerVille Mystery Aspiration before attending university, then complete the Computer Whiz Aspiration

Complete a Computer Science degree and complete the Tech Guru (eSport Gamer branch)

Max out the Programming and Rocket Science skills

Complete the Space Rocks and Aliens Collections

While at university, become an E-Sports Competitor and make three computer games

---

Bonus Characters

As mentioned, I did create some extra challenges in case you got to the end and wanted a little more :D

Grandma Tracy

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Traits: Family-Oriented, Cheerful, Self-Assured

Career: Doctor

Goals:

Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration

Max out the Doctor career

Max out the Parenting and Logic skills

Age up your children into adults with at least three positive Character Values. Each value should be fulfilled at least once.

Move in with your grandchild when they become a Young Adult

---

Hiram “Brains” Hackenbacker

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Traits: Genius, Squeamish, Perfectionist

Career: Engineer (Mechanical Engineer branch)

Goals:

Complete the Nerd Brain Aspiration

Earn a distinguished degree in Physics from Foxbury Institute before becoming a Mechanical Engineer

Max out the Robotics and Logic skills

Develop the Indoorsy Lifestyle

Build five separate rockets

---

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward

Aspiration: Mansion Baron, Archaeology Scholar, Jungle Explorer

Traits: Insider, Proper, Dog Lover

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent branch)

Goals:

Use the Mansion Baron Aspiration as a guide to build the Creighton-Ward Estate (strongly recommend you use cheats because WOW)

Complete one of the following Aspirations: Archaeology Scholar or Jungle Explorer (or both!)

Complete the Secret Agent (Diamond Agent branch) career

Max out the Charisma and Archaeology skills

Use the Potion of Youth once before reaching Elder

Visit every Sim world at least once (that you can acces without buying more packs)

---

Aloysius “Nosey” Parker

Aspiration: The Curator

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Insider, Gloomy

Career: Criminal, Secret Agent (Diamond Agent branch)

Goals:

Complete the Curator aspiration

Get caught swiping an object, then switch to the Secret Agent career

Max out the Rock Climbing and Mischief skills

Be disliked by a dog, then later befriend and adopt it

Adopt a Teen as an Elder (adopt a child then age up using the birthday cake)

---

Lucille Tracy

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Traits: Adventurous, Music Lover, Good

Career: Civil Designer (Green Technician branch)

Goals:

Complete the Eco Innovator Aspiration

Max out the Civil Designer (Green Technician branch) career

Max out the Piano and Handiness skills

Earn the Mentor trait and mentor one of your children on the piano

Visit Mt Komorabi at least three times

If you have the Seasons EP (blizzards) or the Snowy Escape EP you could… you know…

[survey--s]

685.

1 - Who was the last person to give you a gift? What was the reason for it?  Suzanne got me some chocolates as a "thank you" for looking after Charlie for a few days while they went away.

2 - Are you a good cook? If so, who taught you? What’s your favourite thing to cook?  I can cook but I don't really enjoy it. My dad actually taught me most of the basics and then I was self-taught for the rest.

3 - When was the last time something in your house broke? Did you manage to fix it or did you need to buy a replacement? The xBox stopped working a while ago but when I tried it yesterday it seemed to be okay. I think it must have just overheated or crashed or something.

4 - Is any part of your body hurting right now? What caused that pain?  Yeah, my left hip which always plays up when it's cold and snowy.

5 - Do you have anything exciting planned for the upcoming weekend?  It's Sunday now and we have a snow day. Next weekend I have work on Saturday and then it's my birthday on Sunday so we're going out for lunch.

6 - If you could spend two weeks in any city in the world, which city would you pick and why?  Tokyo, just because it's somewhere I've always wanted to go and it looks like one of those places where you'll never get bored.

7 - When was the last time you tripped or fell in public? if there was nobody around to see you, did you still feel embarrassed? I skidded on the snow this morning but it was only in the garden. I wasn't embarrassed, just glad I didn't get hurt tbh, haha.

8 - The last time you made a sandwich, what did you put in there? I have no idea, I never really eat sandwiches. I had peanut butter on toast this morning though!

9 - How many hours sleep did you get last night? Was that enough for you or could you have slept for longer? About seven? I woke up wide awake at 6am for no apparent reason.

10 - What’s your favourite time of day? What’s your favourite thing to do at that time? On workdays I love my afternoons. I finish work around 1.30pm, come home, feed the animals, shower and then I have the rest of the day to do what I want. Normally I watch TV, mess around online, play games or sometimes see friends. On weekends I love lazy mornings.

11 - Where did you go the last time you left your house?  I haven't been out properly since Friday but I've been out in the garden to play with the dog in the snow a lot.

12 - Are you tired right now? Will you be going to bed anytime soon?  I'm kinda tired but I won't be going back to sleep. It's nearly lunchtime so I'll feed the animals after this and then probably make myself something to eat.

13 - How many times a week do you get takeaway coffee, if you get it at all?  On average, none lol. It's just too expensive for me to justify on a regular basis. I buy the syrups and stuff and make it at home.

14 - What radio station do you listen to the most?  Radio One.

15 - If you eat steak, how do you like it cooked? What sauces or sides do you like to go with it?  Rare, and I like it with mushrooms, fries and onion rings. In terms of sauce, I like blue cheese.

16 - Do you prefer sweet or savoury pancakes? What toppings do you have on them?  Sweet. Normally I have blueberries, honey and bananas.

17 - Are you someone who cracks their joints a lot? Which one(s) do you tend to crack and click the most?  My joints crack whenever I move, haha. Normally my toes, knees, back and neck make the most noise.

18 - Have you ever taken medication or tablets to help you sleep? is this something you do on a regular basis? Yeah, both prescription and herbal ones, but I haven't needed either for a good six months now.

19 - For you, what’s the worst thing about getting up in the morning? What about the worst thing about going to bed tonight?  I just hate actually getting out of bed, especially in winter. I'm fine going to bed at night.

20 - Do you prefer regular or diet soft drinks?  Diet. I find the regular ones too sweet.

21 - What do you tend to wear if you’re just hanging about the house for the day?  Leggings and a hoody at this time of year. In summer normally shorts and a t-shirt.

22 - When was the last time you dyed your hair? Did you do it yourself or get it done at a hairdresser?  A couple of years ago. I always do it myself.

23 - Does having to wear a mask stop you doing things? Is this because you struggle wearing one or you just don’t like it?  I couldn't wear one because of sensory issues. I have autism and having something covering my mouth and nose makes me nauseous and panicky. I could cope for a few minutes but nothing longer.

24 - Have you ever witnessed a car accident? Or have you perhaps been involved in one yourself? Were you at fault? I've never witnessed one but been involved in a couple - neither were my fault, though.

25 - When was the last time you baked a cake? What cake was it? Years ago. I don't really like baking. I did make bread during lockdown though using one of those kits.

26 - Do you like wearing bows or accessories in your hair?  Nope.

27 - How many books do you read in a year? Do you enjoy reading or do you have to really force yourself to sit down and read?  I haven't read a book in ages. I never read anymore, I just don't seem to enjoy it in the way I used to.

28 - If you have pets, where did they come from? A breeder, a rescue or maybe a friend who bred their pet? Purrlock is a rescue, Simba and Toby are farm kittens and Archie is from a breeder.

29 - Do you make your bed every morning when you get up?  Yeah, every single day. It feels wrong not to make the bed.

30 - When was the last time you got takeaway food? Was it good? Last week, and yeah, it was pretty good.

[jessbakescakes]

@twwobsessed​ asked for either 89. I noticed or 90. you can tell me anything from this post..

I accidentally deleted the ask, sorry! 

This one spans across the series... it also got way longer than I anticipated. Oops?

“Want some chips?”

Donna looks to her left to find Josh holding out a bag of barbecue potato chips he insisted on getting from the store across the street before they loaded up the bus to South Carolina. “Thanks,” she says, taking a couple from the bag. 

“Take as many as you want. It’ll probably be a little bit before we can stop to get something to eat, and we didn’t get a chance to eat lunch.” He places the bag between them, but doesn’t so much as reach for the chips again.

~*~

“Pizza’s here!” CJ announces, dropping several pizza boxes on the table in the center of the room. 

Josh tosses his pen on his notepad. “What did you get? I’ll grab it for you.”

Donna looks up from her note cards. “Oh, no, I didn’t get anything.”

“What? Why?”

She thinks back to the intern who came around asking for everyone’s orders about an hour ago, and the excuse she gave him. The Massachusetts Democratic Party catered a lunch with a sandwich spread; she told the intern that she was still full from lunch, but Josh would see right through that. He sat right next to her while she ate half a turkey sub and a just-this-side-of-stale oatmeal raisin cookie before they were ready to head to their next meeting. 

The truth, of course, is that she’s made a pretty big dent in her already modest savings account since rejoining the campaign. Her parents, in an attempt to impart some financial wisdom upon her during her teen years, had declared that half of each paycheck from whatever after school or summer job she held at the time was to be deposited into a savings account. She managed to make it all this time without having to dip into it; selling her car and sleeping on the floor had made it easier to stretch her limited budget. But it won’t last forever.

Before she can answer, CJ interrupts, calling out everyone’s orders. “Looks like we have some breadsticks on top, here, and some wings… here’s a cheese pizza for Kevin McCallister over there,” CJ says, motioning toward Josh as she opens the box, places it beside the stack, then closes the lid. 

“Hey now, Donna and I are splitting this pizza, I wanted to make her feel at home,” Josh retorts, grabbing a plate and handing it to Donna before pulling two slices of pizza out of the box CJ just abandoned. 

Donna turns to Josh. “I’m fine, Josh, really.”

“Donna,” he says, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from her seat.

“I don’t want to eat your food.” Josh gives her a pointed look, and she lets out a sigh. “How much do I owe you?”

Josh laughs. “What’s mine is yours, Donnatella.” He places his hand at the small of her back and ushers her toward the pizza box. “Eat.”

~*~

They manage to find a 24 hour diner in Little Rock two weeks before the convention. When their server approaches, everyone’s either staring blankly at their menus or engaged in subdued conversation. They were already tired, but they were pulling hours even longer than normal due to what should have been a minor PR snafu turned media beast that just wouldn’t die. 

Josh had gotten Leo to agree to bring Donna on as a salaried member of the campaign once the Governor was no longer the presumptive nominee, but the official nominee; all Donna needed to do was make her last few dollars stretch as far as possible for just a little longer. Her stomach growls loudly as the server moves next to Josh.

“I’ll have the chicken and waffles,” Josh starts, handing the server his menu and sliding Donna’s toward him. “She’ll have an omelette with spinach and feta.”

By the time she opens her mouth to protest, the server’s gone and Josh is listening intently to whatever it is Sam is saying to his left.

~*~

“I’m just saying,” Josh starts, putting his half-eaten box of Chinese food on the table in the Mural Room, “if Thompson thinks Braun and Miller will pull out, we need to plan for that now.”

“You really think they’ll do that?” Toby asks. 

Josh nudges the container toward Donna. “I do. At least, that’s what Braun was hinting at earlier. I don’t know what the hell that guy’s up to; he’s harder to read than any woman I’ve ever dated.”

Donna reaches for the food and peeks inside, noticing that it’s honey garlic chicken - her favorite.

~*~

“I think you’re not giving theoretical physics enough of a chance,” Josh insists. “I think you have some weird, unfair bias against it.”

Donna holds out her hand and takes the wrapper to Josh’s chicken sandwich. “Well, considering physics was the only class I ever came close to failing, I think my biases are perfectly fair.”

Josh laughs. “Donna Moss almost failed a class?”

“I stayed every day after school for a month and pulled it up to an A minus. But for a little while there I was in the mid-C range.”

“Painfully average,” Josh teases. 

“Shut up and eat your salad,” Donna sighs.

“I’m full, you can have it.”

Donna rolls her eyes. “Josh, you ordered this salad. You said you wanted this salad, and I didn’t question you…”

“You’re about to go back to work, and I know you won’t have time to stop and grab something for another… seven, eight hours? Eat the damn salad.”

~*~

The Hawk and Dove is nearly empty; it’s just CJ, Sam, Donna, Charlie, and Josh in the late hours of the snowy evening. 

“Toby was mentioning that earlier,” CJ says. “I don’t buy it.”

Donna pulls Josh’s untouched tray of cheese fries toward her and begins to eat, expecting a grumble or a whine from him. It never comes.

~*~

She’s not invited to this particular State Dinner. She could have gone home an hour ago, but she decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity to catch up on some filing while Josh wasn’t around. 

Donna works through the last stack of files and returns to her desk to find two plates full of hors d'oeuvres.

~*~

Donna opens her eyes and stretches as much as the hospital bed will allow. Josh hears her stir and stands up from his chair. “Hey,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better,” she says, her voice a little hoarse. 

“They brought you some breakfast. Looks like you’ve got some fruit and eggs. They’re probably a little cold by now, though. You hungry?”

“A little, yeah.” 

Josh extends his hand and offers her a small package of mini muffins. “Don’t ask me how this works, but apparently there’s a vending machine down the hall that has some American snacks in it. I thought these would be chocolate chip, but… they’re blueberry.” 

She takes the package and notices that the word blueberry is written in bold, blue font across the front, directly underneath the logo. He hasn’t eaten any of them.

~*~

“If anyone asks, the Congressman won’t be commenting on the situation with Senator Stephens,” Lou says. “Donna, do your best to make sure they don’t ask.”

Donna nods. She walks back to her seat to find a small bag of chocolate covered pretzels sitting in the chair. She looks across the room at Josh, staring at an electoral map, eating a bag of the same pretzels. He turns to grab a marker and makes eye contact with her from across the room.

Donna’s stomach nearly ties itself in knots when he gives her a small smile before returning to the board.

~*~

Josh takes his seat next to Donna, leaning in for a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. I was just getting the ‘don’t you dare hurt her’ talk from the President.”

“Which one?” Donna asks, taking a sip of champagne.

“Either. Both. They both like you better than me, anyway, does it really matter?” 

Donna laughs. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

Josh looks down at his empty plate, then at Donna. “You ate my slice of cake?” He’s saying it in a tone of incredulity, but he’s grinning.

She shrugs. “You left it; I assumed you didn’t want it.”

“Donna,” Josh whines. “I was going to eat that.”

“There’s still plenty left,” Donna reassures him. “Don’t worry. You can get another slice.”

“Why, so you can eat that one, too?” Josh sighs. “At what point did you start stealing my food, anyway?”

Donna moves her arm to rest on Josh’s chair. “Probably around the time I noticed that even though I was on salary, you still continued to feed me. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, by the way.”

Josh turns to face her. “Wait, you knew?”

“Of course I knew, Josh,” Donna says. “It was your way of taking care of me. It’s really thoughtful, actually. One of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” 

She looks at him for a moment, studying the smirk on his face. She’s still in awe that she gets to call this man her husband - this incredibly caring, ridiculously sweet, wonderful man married her. 

“I’m going to start putting my name on my leftovers,” Josh declares

“I’ll just eat them anyway,” Donna says, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. You will.”

[queenaeducan-writes]

Stories of Thedas IV

Featuring: Thora Cadash

I’m abandoning this project and deleting it off AO3 because thanks to the bot glitch it now has the most kudos I’ve received legitimately on any work. My frustration about that has honestly killed my desire to keep working on it, but I like enough of some of the prompts to save them here!

I’ll try again in Volume V!

I. Baking

Thora licks her thumb before she turns the page, like a scholar in an apron, her hands peppered white with flour instead of dust. Every time, she licks her hand, even when her thumbprint still bears the faint shine from the last time. It’s a little thing, but it makes her real. Like she’d seen someone do it once and thought that must be how the important people did it. Sera doesn’t stop her, just leans over and pins her finger against the page. “What about this one?” she asks, underlining the recipe’s title for emphasis. “No fuss, no nuts.”

II. Nug

“What happened to him?”

The wrangler shrugs, and he’s right to. It’s a stupid question and Thora knows it, but curiosity begged she ask it, anyway. “It’s a hungry world, Inquisitor. This one’s lucky- most lose more than an arm.” She rests her chin in her hand as she watches the nug mill about the pen, stopping to investigate a wayward stalk of breakfast that had escaped its siblings’ notice. It took it by its teeth before it sat up, single paw grasping the end to feed it past its teeth. “It’s a shame, really. That breed always goes for more, guess I’ll have to sell him at a discount.”

She bristles, keeping her face turned to hide her sudden sour expression. Her focus remains on the nug instead, now joined by a sandy-coloured sister eager to groom the food from his face despite his squeals of protest. “How much were you thinking?”

III. Packing

For the fifth time that hour, Thora Cadash reaches for her bag.

She has so little to bring with her, it seems foolish to inventory it again, but it pushes back against the heart in her throat and right now she’ll do anything to keep herself calm. The first leg of their journey is mere hours away, and she won’t have them delayed on her account. They’d waited long enough for her while she wasted in a cell, or on a bed. The leather flap of her bag lands lighter on the table than she’s used to, the hidden pockets no longer laden with a smuggler’s toolkit. Bright red potions, shinier than the sort the apostates she ran with back in the Free Marches (but just as foul-tasting, she assumes), are secured to the sides with leather straps. If she had the stomach to eat, bread and cheese were wrapped in the softest corner of the bag, alongside the tart Flissa had given her the night before. She has the clothes to brave the snowy march down the mountain and face the fast-approaching fall, though standing in Haven it’s still August in the rest of Thedas. Yes, it seems she has everything, as it had the last five times she checked. There’s just one more thing…

Thora takes a book from the table, handling the well-worn spine carefully. Each time she packs it ends in a different place, uncertain if it belongs, but the weight in her hand steadies her heart behind its cage. It falls open in her hand to the passage she needs most, over the years the shape of the book had grown sympathetic to the passages she reread the most, and it greets her like an old friend:

Never surrender Dwarvish blood may be lukewarm But vital as ore

She breathes out through the time it takes her to read it, tempo matching the beat her ancestors penned years ago. The book finds its home in her bag again, this time slotting in the pockets meant only for her eyes, and this time it stays.

The first fingers of dawn breach the sky over Haven, and Thora is awake to greet it. Pink scatters through the broken heavens, dancing with the tendrils that snaked from the Breach, like oil and water in the air.

IV. Memories

The brand steps uncertainly through the aisles, footsteps light, as though her presence here might render the memories that surrounded her to dust. A few years ago, Czibor might have agreed, but King Bhelen had proved Orzammar strong enough to weather Casteless in their midst, and then some. At least this one acts with the appropriate deference.

“Is there something specific you’re looking for, Inquisitor?” he asked as she turns a circle.

She spins back to look at him, heels pressed together like a soldier stood at attention. “No,” she answers, hurriedly, “no, at least not yet. I’m just- looking. I never thought I’d be standing here, of all places.”

In that they are agreed. ‘Cadash’ was a ghost of a name until the day she stumbled from the human sky, but the woman before him is no ghost. When she steps, even quietly as she does, the echo of her ancestors reverberates through the Stone.

[lihikainanea]

thinking about bill and tiger going on a winter road trip around the rural parts of europe. they take turns driving and eat at awful for you restaurants, go to all the cheesy tourist attractions, and a spontaneous mini golf sesh because tiger made a bet she could beat him. and once they get to their first stop, he goes in for a sweet kiss once they’re settled, but it naturally progresses into something more intimate. soft gasps, little giggles when he accidentally tickles her, and they have sex to the sound of the fireplace cracking.... brb gonna cry for a bit -🧚‍♀️

Ohhhhh bullseye, baby.

I don’t know if it’s just my Canadian side talking--we’re basically just a few chromosomes away from being polar bears--but there is something deeply engrained in me, something that really loves the winter. I am an autumn girl through and through, but something about winter is just...undeniably magical. Yes, sometimes it’s awful--the road conditions, the slippery sidewalks, the -40C, the 8 feet of snow that gets dumped on us weekly. But there’s also such a mysticism to it, a uniqueness, a lovely and serene quality.

There is the way that the bright snow illuminates a dark night--soft blankets just coating everything. It’s the way that it somehow makes everything much more quiet--most who have experienced cold winters can tell you that there is indeed silence that most of us associate with only the winter months, when the snow just seems to insulate everything and block out all echoes. A peacefulness. There’s the bright winter sky that is somehow just impossibly blue, a blue that you only see in January or February, and usually when the temperatures drop to insufferable degrees that no human should live through. The coldest days bring the brightest skies, and it’s a blue I’ve never seen anywhere else in the world. It’s the different kinds of snow that fall--soft and powdery, the type you want to just pelt at each other, or heavy and wet--the perfect kind for making a snowman.

Bill said a few years ago that the winters in Toronto were the coldest he had ever felt, and I felt some weird Canadian pride that we had successfully beaten a Nordic man into wintery submission. To boot--Toronto ain’t even all that cold compared to our prairie brethren. I wonder if he’s ever visited Landon in February.

In any case, despite its tribulations, winter holds a special place in my heart--and winter in Europe? Oh man. The November/December trip I took to Oslo and Copenhagen two years ago was the prettiest thing I had ever seen--Europe does cozy winter right. Everything is warm drinks, big knits, patios outside with heating lamps, blankets on chairs. It’s beautiful.

And maybe this trip is kind of her dream--but listen, for non-Europeans, driving in Europe can be terrifying, you know? I nearly get killed when I just try to cross the street on foot, let alone attempting to drive. But Bill grew up in these countries, traveled all over ‘em, and he’s more than fine with driving. Maybe he doesn’t even tell tiger the plan--he has a rough outline, but he keeps it secret. Tiger just thinks it’s the greatest thing, hitting the road in Europe with her big dude. He drives everywhere, confident and calm, through snowy mountains in a nice car, holding her hand. Maybe they start in France, drive on over to Switzerland. He rents a small room in a beautiful log cabin in the Alps, and it’s all fire place and cheese fondue and huge, fur blankets on the bed. They take a fondue tour. They hop on a beautiful scenic train that takes them around the country in a day. They go ice skating (he won’t let her ski, he’s not falling for that again). They drink mulled wine on their outdoor heated patio when they get back, all red noses and huddled together. They absolutely have sex under a blanket in front of the fire place, and it’s intimate and warm, both of their skin glowing in the soft light of the fire. The bed is huge, a big wooden frame complete with four posts, but they sleep glued to each other. He stuffs her silly, full of melty cheese fondue and raclette.

Maybe they head to Austria from there, he brings her to all the small pastry shops he knows of. He takes her prancing through the famous garden, takes her on a hot chocolate tour, gets enough chocolate snacks for the road. He brings her to Mozart’s house, introduces her to her first Mozartkugel, and he has to forbid her from eating anymore wiener schnitzel because she almost made herself sick. Maybe if it’s around Christmas time, he takes her to a few Christmas markets.

Then they head up to Germany, the whole time locked in an intense debate about glugg versus gluhwein--tiger can’t tell the difference, she just likes both but it’s very important, kid--maybe Bill has to stop along a few roads, let a herd of mountain goats go by. Even the ROADS are pretty in Europe. They stop for snacks in roadside restaurants and shacks, and god even the small motels along the way from country to country are just so beautiful. He takes her to all the German Christmas markets, hosts an elaborate mulled wine tasting (see tiger? glugg is so much better), feeds her bratwursts. Tiger is amazed that Bill can literally down an entire 1L stein of beer in just a few gulps, along with a pretzel the size of his face. In fact, maybe this time it’s tiger that has to intervene--Bill had 4 pretzels in a row and as he went for a fifth, she yanked him the other way. Got him a sausage on a stick instead, because somehow that’s better.

They head up to Scandinavia from there--a quick stop in Denmark, and that is entirely at tiger’s request. Bill’s Swedish side says fuck Denmark. But he takes her shopping on Stroget, tries to get her to properly pronounce stegt flæsk med persillesovs, maybe even takes her for a romantic stroll near Tivoli. Tiger makes the cardinal sin of mentioning that Danish Gløgg is her favourite so far and Bill almost like, smacks the mug out of her hands. They eat aebelskiver, and she laughs when he gets powdered sugar all over his nose. They stay a night or two in a beautiful little inn, before hopping back in the car.

Tiger loves that she’s just not worrying about anything. Bill knows how to gas up in Europe. He knows how the roads work. He knows how to park and read the parking signs. He knows where they can stop and get food, he knows where they can stay--tiger is just in the passenger seat, holding his big hand, and she’s glowing. He gets her a cute winter hat, a warmer pair of mittens when she’s cold. They pick up a few beautiful Christmas ornaments along the way, because the Christmas markets are just too beautiful not to.

They finally end back up in Sweden, but they’re not done yet. Bill drives way north into the countryside, where it’s dark all the time and where you can see the Northern Lights. He knows his way around--he rents a glass igloo for a few nights, gets a ski doo, drives her out to the middle of nowhere and parks it. The Northern Lights light up the entire sky, and tiger swears she’s never seen anything so beautiful in her life. She cries about it--god granny would have loved this. He hugs her and tells her to try to stop--wet tears on cold cheeks is never a good thing.

They sleep that night on their backs, still huddled together, watching the lights dance across the sky. He convinces her to try reindeer the next morning--tiger is a big fan of Christmas and eating reindeer just seems wrong--but it’s a pretty normal thing out there. She hates how much she loves it. And it’s a great way for him to reveal their next destination--none other than Santa Claus’ legit village, in Rovaniemi, Finland. Her squeal is so loud it nearly cracks the glass igloo.

[theazkabandreamer]

The Lucky Birthday

A belated Happy Birthday to Harry Potter. Can also be read here.

___

Birthdays were supposed to be fun- At least that’s what Harry Potter was supposed to believe. But his birthdays were never fun.

To him, a birthday was just another day when he was chased by Dudley and shouted at by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. This year for his birthday, he was stuck at batty Mrs Figg’s house for a week whilst the Dursley’s were holidaying in Spain.

Mrs Figg’s house was crawling with cats. Everywhere Harry turned, he would be greeted by the sight of one. He found them in the flowerbeds, hiding in saucepans and he got a shock many years ago when he accidentally sat on a cat that was hiding under the sofa cushions.

But Harry didn’t have time to relax; Mrs Figg made Harry clean the floors, empty the litter boxes and when he had nothing to do, Mrs Figg made him look at the photos of every cat she had owned.

Mrs Figg had a new cat called Winnie. Harry thought that Winnie was the strangest cat that Mrs Figg had owned. Far stranger than Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty.  

Winnie would be constantly watching Harry as he did his chores for Mrs Figg. He had an impression that he had seen the cat before, but he couldn’t remember where.

Even though he was bored to death, at least he was able to watch what he wanted on the telly and the food wasn’t too bad. It may be slightly overcooked and the cabbage unbearable to eat, but at least he didn’t have Dudley nicking everything.

_____

On the morning of his birthday, he woke to the smell of cooking. He got up and made sure that there wasn’t a cat hiding underneath his camp bed and entered Mrs Figg’s kitchen to see her at the cooker.

Three cats were sitting on the counter, sniffing the air as Harry sat at the table.  

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Mrs Figg said briskly, tipping the contents of the pan onto a large plate. “You’ve got a busy day today. Eat up.”

She put the plate on the kitchen table and Harry looked to see something swimming in gravy. He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

“What’s that?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Liver and bacon,” Mrs Figg said at once and Harry’s stomach did a summersault.

“I’d rather have eggs,” Harry said, pushing the plate back.

“Nonsense,” Mrs Figg snapped. “A skinny thing like you needs a hearty meal to start the day.”

“I like being skinny,” Harry said reproachfully.

Being the smallest and skinniest of his class, Harry found he had a manoeuvrability advantage which he used to get away from Dudley and his gang. It had been months since Dudley had punched him on the nose.

“If you’re not going to eat it, I’ll feed it to the cats and you can go without,” Mrs Figg said.

Several cats peered around the doorway and a fat ginger cat stuck its head from out of a flower pot. Harry groaned, admitting defeat. He couldn’t go a whole day without having any breakfast so he grabbed the plate and began eating.

It didn’t taste as bad as Harry feared, but he wouldn’t have it again. Dudley certainly wouldn’t have it- He would’ve screamed and knocked over the table.

After he had eaten all he could, he fed the leftover pieces of liver to the cats and jumped down from the table, but Mrs Figg called him back.

“Your Aunt has a birthday present for you,” she said, holding a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. “I believe you’re seven today. You’re almost a big boy.”

Harry wasn’t particularly excited about his presents. Unlike Dudley-who was lavished with lots of presents- Harry’s presents always turned out to be disappointing.

Last year, the Dursleys got him a coat hanger for his birthday as Aunt Petunia was fed up of him leaving his clothes around the house.

As expected, Harry’s present turned out to be disappointing. It was a tube of toothpaste.

“At least they’re thinking of your teeth,” Mrs Figg said, looking at the scowl on Harry’s face. “Now, I want you washed and dressed. I have something I want you to do for me.”

Harry proceeded to Mrs Figg’s tiny bathroom full of dread. Whatever Mrs Figg wanted him to do, it wasn’t going to be fun.

Once Harry was washed and dressed, he entered the kitchen to find Mrs Figg present him with a shopping list and some money. He was told to get a bus into town and get the things on the list.

____

Ten minutes later, Harry found himself at the bus stop. It was a hot day and the sun glared down on him. He also had a funny feeling that he was being watched.

Once the bus arrived, Harry found himself sat between some irritable woman at the front and loud teenagers at the back.

The teenagers were ignoring him but the irritable women kept shooting him dirty looks and muttering under their breath about him.

“Who in their right mind would send a child on the bus all on his own?”

“Some women shouldn’t be mothers,”

“She could’ve at least dressed him properly. The state of his clothes!”

“The state of his hair! He needs to get down to the barbers and get himself a haircut!”

Harry ignored them and spent the journey looking out of the window, watching as the bus drove past his and Dudley’s school.

Harry watched the grim Victorian building with its red bricks, high windows and iron railings go past and he miserably reminded himself that he would see it again in September.

_____

There was a market taking place and the town was packed. Harry went from shop to shop getting the items on Mrs Figg’s list. He got the lamb hearts and liver from the butchers, the tins of cat food from the supermarket, the tuna from the fishmongers and the bread from the bakers.

After he got the items from the shopping list, he ticked them off.

At each shop he went to, he was met with stares and he heard people whispering about him and making similar comments to the women on the bus.  

As Harry headed to the greengrocers for the last items, he had a funny feeling that he was being followed. He looked up and down the street but it was full of people going about their business.

Maybe he was imagining it. It was a hot day and the heat did funny things to the mind.

He spotted Dudley’s friend, Piers Polkiss in the greengrocers and he hid behind the grapefruits in case Piers spotted him.

But Piers was too busy being embarrassed by his mother who was loudly telling her friend about the Polkiss’s summer holiday plans.

Harry was hidden for fifteen minutes and bored senseless as Mrs Polkiss gave her friend a complete itinerary of their travel plans. He wished the Polkiss’s would hurry up and fly to Paris- He was going to be late!

It happened suddenly; a pigeon flew into the greengrocers and Mrs Polkiss let out an almighty shriek as it landed on her head. Her friend fainted as Mrs Polkiss fell sideways, sending the coconuts rolling around the shop and causing people to trip over.

Piers jumped back knocking over the stand of raspberries and sending them flying. The pigeon flapped around the shop and the manager grabbed a broom and chased it out.

Harry- who was trying not to laugh- spotted a cat running into the shop, looking around for the pigeon.

It took him a moment to realise that the cat belonged to Mrs Figg. It was her new cat, Winnie. Was it Winnie who was following him all this time? Harry knew she was an odd one.

Not willing to explain to Mrs Figg why her cat was missing, Harry ducked out from his hiding place and approached the cat who was looking for something.

“Winnie,” he hissed, trying not to attract attention.

The cat gave Harry a sharp look and turned around and to Harry’s confusion, trotted out of the shop.

With his arms numb with pins and needles, Harry followed Winnie who stopped and looked back at him expectantly.

“You- you want me to follow you?” Harry muttered.

The cat sat down, eyeing Harry with a look reminiscent of a stern schoolmistress.

Harry headed out of the shop, past Mrs Polkiss who was giving the manager of the shop a piece of her mind and gesturing to Piers who was drenched in raspberry juice and looking thoroughly embarrassed.

Harry stifled a laugh behind his hand as he left the shop and followed Winnie up the street.

“Mrs Figg will be looking for you,” Harry said to Winnie who stopped and sat down again, staring at him. “We need to get you home.”

The cat continued to stare at him as Harry made his way to the bus stop. Harry could feel its eyes bore into the back of his head like one of Uncle Vernon’s drills.

“Why are you just sitting there?” Harry asked exasperatedly, turning around to face the cat. “We’ve got to go back to Mrs Figg.”

But the cat just sat there, staring at him expectantly. Harry had a funny feeling that he had forgotten something.

“But I’ve got everything,” he said out loud, attracting some funny looks from some passers-by.

Harry pulled out the shopping list that Mrs Figg gave him and looked at it. He seemed to have ticked off everything on the list:

He had got Mrs Figg her cat food, her bread, her lambs’ hearts and liver. He had gone into the fishmongers for some tuna. He had just come from the greengrocers with her fruit and cabbage. What could he be missing?

Then it hit him.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry exclaimed. “I’ve forgotten the eggs!”

The cat ran off at once and Harry had to run to catch up with it. He soon found himself outside a newsagent. He went in and bought the eggs.

As he left, he saw the cat eating someone’s discarded fish supper. Once the cat had finished, it licked its lips and followed him up the street.

_____

It was mid-afternoon and Harry was starting to get hungry. The liver and bacon seemed like a lifetime ago. Harry headed to the market with Winnie the cat following him. Mrs Figg had given him a lot of money and he still had some left.

As it was his birthday, he thought he could at least buy himself a present. He couldn’t buy anything that he could keep forever- Dudley would have it off him faster than you could blink. But it didn’t mean that he couldn’t have something tasty to eat.

There were cheese stalls, fish stalls, meat stalls and stalls that sold the beer that Uncle Vernon would dismiss as ‘foreign muck’.

The cat gave Harry a dirty look as he passed the beer stall.

“I can’t buy a beer, I’m too young,” Harry told it, feeling as if he had been told off. The cat sped up forcing Harry to jog to keep up with it.

Harry held his nose as he went past the olive stall and saw a stand selling fresh doughnuts. Harry’s mouth watered; The Dursleys never allowed him to eat doughnuts despite allowing Dudley to do so.

A minute later, he was sitting on a bench eating a large sugared doughnut and it was the most delicious thing he had tasted. It was even better than cake!

Harry sat on the bench, watching what was happening. Little Whinging was busy as people rushed about the shops in a constant state of hurry.

He always felt as if he didn’t belong here. People always looked down their noses at him as if he were a piece of dirt. But it wasn’t like he could get away from the place- He was stuck here.

Winnie the cat was sitting at a short distance from him and Harry had a distinct impression that the cat was guarding him. He could see the cat looking up and down the street as it was expecting something to swoop down and attack Harry.

_____

It was getting late and Harry looked at his watch, certain that Mrs Figg was wondering where he was. He got up from the bench and went to the bus stop. The cat followed him there and once he got on the bus, he looked out of the window to see that the cat had vanished.

Harry felt his spirits sink. He had no idea how he was going to explain to Mrs Figg that he had somehow lost her cat when it had followed him to town.

Harry spent the bus journey in a bad mood and stepped miserably off the bus, not noticing Winnie following him back to Mrs Figg’s house.

When he walked up to Mrs Figg’s front door, it burst open and he had to jump out of the way as seven cats came scurrying out of the front door. Harry gulped as he came face to face with a furious Mrs Figg.

“What sort of time do you call this, boy?” she snapped. “If you had been any longer, I would’ve reported you missing! Have you got my shopping?”

With shaking hands, Harry handed her the bags and she checked her list.

“I see you’re not as useless as your Aunt says you are,” she said. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in and help me put the shopping away.”

“Mrs Figg, your cat,” Harry said panickedly. “Winnie followed me into town and when I got back on the bus, it disappeared. I swear I didn’t do anything to it, I promise!

“Calm down, boy!” Mrs Figg said sharply. “You don’t need to worry about Winnie. She’s always wandering off on her own. Here she is now.”

Harry was both shocked and relieved to see Winnie the cat sitting on the kitchen table, looking at Harry with those stern eyes.

The cat continued to watch Harry as he put the shopping away for Mrs Figg which wasn’t easy. Every cupboard he opened, a cat was hiding behind it. He got a shock when he opened the fridge to see a fluffy white cat tucking into Mrs Figg’s ham.

By the time he was finished, Harry was exhausted; His arms were aching from carrying the shopping and his legs ached from all that walking.

“Well, that’s everything,” Mrs Figg said. “I’m going to start preparing dinner. You can go and make yourself scarce. Have a look at what’s on the telly.”

“We’re not having liver again, are we?” Harry asked dubiously.

“I’ll think about it,” Mrs Figg said brusquely. “Now run along.”

Before Harry could move, Winnie the cat moved towards him, nuzzling her head on Harry’s arm. Harry scratched the cat’s head and it closed its eyes lazily, enjoying the fuss. The cat then looked to the kitchen doorway as if it was dismissing Harry.

 Harry headed to Mrs Figg’s cluttered living room, where he checked for any cats hiding in the sofa cushions before sitting down and turning on the telly.

After his busy trip, his body ached with tiredness. Today had turned out rather well. He managed to get everything on Mrs Figg’s list, saw Piers Polkiss completely humiliated and didn’t get punished for losing Mrs Figg’s cat.

Out of all of his birthdays, Harry had to admit that this was the best one. Maybe seven was a lucky number after all. With those comforting thoughts, Harry closed his eyes and fell asleep straight away.

 _______

Back in the kitchen, Mrs Figg gently closed the door. She was relieved that the boy came home in one piece. It was a good thing that she sent Winnie to watch over him. She glanced at the tabby who was still sitting on the table and approached it.

“It was a good thing that you were here today,” Mrs Figg said quietly. “I couldn’t have pulled it off it wasn’t for you, Professor McGonagall,”

Mrs Figg turned to look at the cat only to see that the cat had gone and a tall woman wearing emerald green robes stood next to the kitchen table.

She had a stern face, square spectacles and her hair was pulled up in a tight bun.

“No problem, Arabella,” Professor McGonagall said. “The boy was no trouble at all. It amazes me how he looks so much like James, but with Lily’s eyes.”

“I was startled by the resemblance myself,” Mrs Figg said. “Did he get anything for his birthday? I made sure to leave just enough money for him to buy a little something for himself.”

“All he was interested in was a doughnut,” Professor McGonagall said looking rather amused. “You should’ve seen his face, Arabella. I’ve never seen a child get so excited over a doughnut.”

“I don’t think his Aunt and Uncle allow him to have something like that,” Mrs Figg said thoughtfully. “They give him the bare minimum whilst letting that awful lump of a son stuff his face.”  

“I told Dumbledore that those Muggles were the worst sort imaginable, but he wouldn’t listen,” Professor McGonagall said disapprovingly.

“I don’t think I’m in a position to question Dumbledore, Minerva,” Mrs Figg said. “The best I can do is watch over the boy and make sure he’s safe.”

“I believe he gets bullied,” Professor McGonagall said sadly. “He was trying to avoid a boy his age in the greengrocers. He was a short boy, face like a rat.”

“Piers Polkiss?” Mrs Figg asked, frowning. “I believe that he’s friends with Dudley. I’ve seen them trying to chase Harry. That boy is a nasty piece of work. I never trusted him since ten pounds went missing from my purse. The boy said he didn’t do it, but Tibbles returned with the money. The Polkiss boy has been avoiding me ever since.”

“He was in there for such a long time, I had to cause a distraction,” Professor McGonagall said. “The Polkiss boy got drenched with raspberry juice in the process. Harry got a good laugh out of it though.”

“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Mrs Figg said, smiling at the prospect of a happy Harry. “It’s about time that that thieving boy got his comeuppance. There are plenty of times when I wish I could give Harry a hug. I sometimes think I’ve been too hard on the boy, but I can’t break my cover. The best I can do is make sure the boy is safe.”

Mrs Figg’s voice cracked and Professor McGonagall whipped a tissue out from her robes.

“Have a tissue, Arabella,” Professor McGonagall said, patting Mrs Figg on the arm comfortingly. “I know it’s hard. I had to watch Dumbledore place the boy on his Aunt and Uncle’s doorstep that night.  It was a good suggestion of yours to get the boy out for his birthday. He’s very bright for his age.”

Mrs Figg blew her nose and gently opened the door and peeked her head in the living room to check up on Harry. She saw the boy sitting on the sofa fast asleep with three of her cats sleeping close to him. He looked as if all of his troubles had melted away.

Mrs Figg wished that he looked like that when he was awake, but orders were orders and Dumbledore trusted her to watch over him.

“How is he?” Professor McGonagall whispered.

“See for yourself,” Mrs Figg said and Professor McGonagall peered around the living room door.

Mrs Figg saw Professor McGonagall’s expression soften as she looked at Harry. She took a tissue from her robes and blew her nose.

“I’ll let him sleep for a while and then do his dinner,” Mrs Figg said. “The poor boy needs it.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Professor McGonagall said quietly. “And for heaven’s sake Arabella, don’t go giving the poor boy liver again. There would be an almighty riot if we served it for breakfast at Hogwarts. If he wants eggs then cook him some for his birthday. After all, it’s not every day that you’re seven.”

“Four years until he comes to you, Minerva,” Mrs Figg said.

“I look forward to it,” Professor McGonagall said, smiling at Mrs Figg. “The day Harry Potter returns to our world will be a day of great celebration. Give the boy a biscuit for me.”

With that, Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and opened the front door before turning into a cat again and trotting off down the road.

Mrs Figg stood there watching her leave, pleased that she had done her bit in keeping Harry Potter safe.

[kimtanathegeek]

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 10

10 chapters?!!? Already?!!? Where has the time gone?!

Thank you all for reading this far, for your kudos, your kind words, and for going on this amazing journey with Sans, Papyrus, and me.

I really hope you're liking the story. Even though we're at Ch 10, their story is FAR from over.

Thanks again for reading my story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it! :D

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.  

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

Previous

Next

Sans groaned and shifted, feeling every bone pop. His body did not want to wake up, but his brain urged him not to fall back to sleep. He opened one of his eyes slowly.

Papyrus was still wrapped up in the fabrics—the warmth from the fire long faded—and blanketed by Sans’ blue jacket. Sans smiled, glad to see his little brother resting comfortably. He checked Papyrus’ HP.

47 HP/100 HP.

Sans breathed a deep sigh of relief. The HP Papyrus had gained from the rest of the banana he ate before he went to sleep was still there. He hadn’t lost a single HP since regaining consciousness.

Sans—completely exhausted from overexertion, emotional drain, and from staying up all night to take care of Papyrus—had fallen asleep next to his brother. He didn’t mean to—he had wanted to stay awake to keep tending to Papyrus. But with the urgency to save his brother from the brink of death gone, Sans was able to rest.

He got up carefully, making sure not to disturb Papyrus from his well-needed sleep, and stood up. He stretched his body out, cracking and popping his bones. He ached horrifically from the strenuous activity of the night before. He checked his own HP to see how the night’s sleep affected his health.

40 HP/1 HP.

There was no extra 20 HP gained from sleep since he’d lost some health out in the storm, but at least he was back to 40. He limped over to the pantry shelf and grabbed a bit of bread from the diminishing stale loaf and ate it, feeling his pain subside a little.

He went into the fire room. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep—without the sun and moon, it was impossible to judge time—but it had clearly been a long stretch of time. The water in the broken pottery was piping hot, and the hanging fabrics were extra toasty warm. The fire had barely dwindled, thankfully, so Sans didn’t need to feed it with more wood.

He took a piece of fabric and used it to protect his hand when taking the pottery off the fire basin. He placed it on the snowy floor to cool down, then took the fabrics from the racks.

After he carefully unwrapped the snoozing Papyrus, he felt his forehead and his ribcage under his tiny shirt. They were still cold, but nowhere near as frigid as they were the previous night. He wrapped him in the extra-warm fabrics, using several of them to pillow his head as he removed the haversack and put it on the floor beside the bed.

Papyrus snuggled into the warmth in his sleep while Sans smiled softly. He would let his little brother sleep as long as possible, and would feed him when he woke up to increase his HP further.

He put the fabrics on the warming racks and returned to the main room. While his brother slept, he would do a bit of work around the shelter.

First thing he needed to do was make himself some breakfast to ease more of the pain in his body. He made a roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich and ate on the floor next to the bed as he watched over Papyrus.

When he was finished, he felt much better. He grabbed the haversack and opened it, pulling out the items he had hastily stuffed in it to make a pillow for Papyrus. He put the emptied bag aside and set to re-organize the items as he sat on the floor by his brother’s side.

After some time, he had sorted the items back into piles to put away. He put the wood in the corner where the pantry boulder and snow wall met. He rolled up the pieces of parchment together in one bundle and tied it with one of the short pieces of twine, then placed it and most of the coils of twine and rope on the non-food shelf. As for the random odds and ends—including bits of broken jewelry, various pieces of metal, and several bows and ribbons—Sans bundled these up in another scrap of burlap, tying it at the top with a green ribbon so that he could tell this pouch from the one with the arrow and spear heads, and put it on the shelf. Lastly, he put the food they had found in the pantry—the sturdier fruit and vegetables in the snow “bowl” on the floor and the rest on the food shelf.

He picked up the haversack and put the longer pieces of twine and rope back in the side pockets, then hung the bag up on the bone coat rack. Now that he had finished organizing and putting away the foraged items, he felt a bit more accomplished.

The feeling was immediately replaced with utter guilt and sorrow. He had just completed the task he had abandoned the previous morning, setting into motion the terrible events from the day before. He buried his face in the haversack to stifle his sobs, desperate for Papyrus not to hear him.

He pulled himself together, urging himself to change Papyrus’ wrappings. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, went into the fire room, and took the warmed fabrics off, then brought them to the bed.

Sans knelt down and started unwrapping the cooled-down fabrics, taking care not to jostle his sleeping brother too much. Papyrus stirred, then opened his eyes slightly.

“Sorry, Pap,” Sans apologized as he finished removing the fabrics from him. “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Ready for breakfast?”

Papyrus merely laid there in the freshly warmed fabrics, too weak to be eager about food, which wasn’t like him. Sans winced sadly, even though he didn’t expect Papyrus to wake up completely healed.

Sans went into the fire room and picked up the broken pottery with the water, which had cooled down from extremely hot to warm. It had melted the snow underneath, making a small, wet indent in the floor. He put it back on the fire basin to keep warm, then went to the pantry and grabbed another banana from the shelf.

Sans sat on the bed beside his brother and peeled the banana.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Papyrus grunted weakly, slightly scrunching up his face.

“Still not great, huh...,” Sans sighed. “Are you feeling warmer?”

The little skeleton nodded slowly.

“Well, that’s good!” Sans replied with exaggerated eagerness. “That means you’ll be better in no time!”

Sans broke off a tiny piece and fed it to his brother. Papyrus chewed slowly, his eyes drooping heavily. Once he swallowed, he didn’t open his mouth for more, but instead closed his eyes, his head lolling.

“Hey, now,” Sans said, holding another small bit of banana in front of him. “You’ve got to eat, Pap. It will make you so much stronger if you do.”

Papyrus barely opened his eyes as he opened his mouth feebly.

“There you go,” Sans said soothingly. “Just a few more bites, and I’ll get you some more hot water to warm your tummy.”

Bit by bit, Sans fed Papyrus half of the banana.  

“All right!” he praised him. “Great job. Let me go get you some water, then you can rest, ok?”

Papyrus was still chewing as he nodded slowly.

Sans got up and checked the water. Feeling that it was not too hot, he brought the warm water in and sat back on the bed. He helped his weakened brother drink, sip by sip, until the piece of pottery was emptied.

“All done,” Sans grinned gently. “Now you can rest, Pap.”

The little skeleton needed no further prompting. He settled into the pile of fabrics under his head and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he was back to sleep.

Sans checked his HP.

62 HP/100 HP.

More than halfway filled. Sans felt much better, though he felt saddened that Papyrus was still not his normal self. But sleep would do him good.

Sans got up and placed more snow in the broken pottery and placed it on the fire basin. Then he took a moment to inspect the melting damage of the walls and ceiling. It still wasn’t bad, but he needed to repair it before holes started appearing.

While Papyrus slept, Sans crawled through the opening, dug out the entrance, and crawled out. The snow had deepened overnight, giving Sans plenty of building material to work with.

He started with the roof. He tossed armfuls of snow up onto one of the boulders, then climbed up onto it. He packed the snow onto the roof carefully, hoping that his repairs didn’t cause a cave in. When he was out of snow, he slid off the boulder and tossed more up on the other boulder to work on the opposite side.

Once the roof had a thick layer of snow packed onto it, Sans slid back down off the boulder and started pushing snow towards the entrance. He shoved the snow into the shelter, then went back outside to get more. After several piles of snow, he closed up the entrance and checked on Papyrus.

The little skeleton hadn’t moved an inch, sleeping soundly in the warmth of the fabrics.

Sans grabbed armful after armful of the snow, bringing it into the fireroom, until all the snow piles had been moved. He worked on the thinning walls, building them up and packing the snow in tightly. Then he leveled the floor where the water runoffs from the layers of bones above the fire had dissolved the snow around the basin. He wished he had a bucket or container to catch the precious water, but he was grateful he had found the broken pottery piece when he did. Hopefully, future foraging trips would result in something to hold and store water.

Sans finished the repairs after some time. He looked around the room to double check his work while catching his breath and wiping his brow. Satisfied, he checked on Papyrus.

He was still fast asleep. As much as Sans wished he would wake up to eat more food, he knew the sleep would be good for his weakened state. He might waken anyway, since it was time to change the fabrics.

He took the warmed fabrics from the racks, sat on the bed, and switched them over. Sans was surprised—and even a little concerned—that Papyrus didn’t even stir. Once the little skeleton was in fresh, warm fabrics, Sans sat with him a moment, stroking his brother’s head gently.

Poor thing..., he thought, watching Papyrus sleep. He’s been through so much. I can’t imagine how scared and hurt he must have been. How horrible, to have wandered in that frigid cold alone and with no way to get warm. He must have suffered so much pain before he passed out in that spot.... And all he wanted to do was help his big brother feel better....

Sans sighed sadly, feeling guilt-ridden, as he glanced down at the pile of cooled-down fabrics next to him. His eyes focused on a small, grey scrap, almost the exact color as his haversack. He thought for a moment, came up with an idea, and put the scrap to the side. He put the rest of the fabrics on the warming racks, then went back to the bed and retrieved the scrap. He glanced at Papyrus and grinned. Then he set to work.

 -

 Papyrus crumpled his face up, rousing from his lengthy slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking back the sleep. He tried to stretch out his arms, but they were pinned against his sides by the wrapped fabrics. He whimpered as he wiggled back and forth, trying to get free.

Sans heard his brother and went over to the bed, sitting down on it. Papyrus looked up at him pleadingly for release.

“Careful there, Pap,” Sans soothed. “Let me help you out.”

Sans started unwrapping the fabrics, and as soon as he was able, Papyrus freed himself. He sat up—which pleased Sans, since he hadn’t been able to do so since the morning before he almost died—and stretched his arms up in the air, yawning widely.

“Feeling better?”

Papyrus nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Nyeh.”

“Hungry?”

The little skeleton’s face broke into a grin. “Nyeh!”

He must be feeling better, Sans thought, smiling deep in his soul.

Sans handed him the other half of the banana, which Papyrus took in both hands and started eating. Sans went into the fire room and retrieved the warm water, then sat back on the bed next to his brother. He watched him eat the banana steadily.

“I was thinking,” Sans said. “We should take it easy the next couple days, Pap.”

Papyrus looked up from his banana, chewing a large mouthful.

“Yeah,” Sans answered his inquisitive look. “You’re still recovering, I’m still tired. I think we should stay here and rest before heading back out there.”

Papyrus swallowed, then looked at the banana in his hands sadly.

“Hey, no!” Sans said, waggling his hands. “Don’t feel bad! I think it’s good for us to just stay in! We’ve got plenty of food, the fire’s going strong, aaaand...,” he grinned wide, spreading out the word in singsong. “...that means we get to play together! Just you and me!”

Papyrus’ face lit up as he gasped for joy, almost dropping the banana. Two whole days of nothing but playing with his big brother?! Papyrus leaned over and hugged Sans excitedly.

Sans hugged his brother back, then rubbed the top of his skull gently.

“First, you’ve got to eat your banana, drink this warm water, and then we’ll start playing, ok?”

Papyrus had never focused so hard on eating food in his life.

Sans grinned, glad to have his brother back to normal.

 -

 For the next two days, the skeleton brothers rested up, while having the most fun they’d had since leaving their house that fateful day.

They played games on the snow floor with Papyrus’ tiny white bones like Tic-Tac-Bone, Pick-Up-Bones, and their favorite—Tower of Bones. The game was played by layering bones in crisscross patterns until all the bones were used up, making a tall, narrow tower. Then each brother took a turn removing a bone from the tower while trying not to topple it. Papyrus loved to watch the bones tumble, regardless of if he won or lost—Sans making sure to “accidentally” knock over the tower on his turn with his “clumsy” fingers several times, letting Papyrus win often.

When the bones fell, Papyrus always jumped up on his feet, giggling with his hands in the air. In Papyrus’ mind, any time the tower fell, both he and Sans won the game together.

“Nyeh heh heh!” he triumphantly exclaimed every time, his tiny hands on his hips, then plopped back on the floor and helped his brother rebuild the tower again.

They also played a new game Sans made up called Hide-The-Banana, where Sans would hide the last banana somewhere in the main room—the fire room was off limits for safety—while Papyrus shut his eyes, counting to ten. He giggled as he ran around the room, checking every spot until he found the banana, then held it up in the air, cheering and jumping up and down as Sans sang out “Da de daa!”

They spent hours playing with the tiny white bones like other monsters played with blocks. Sans discovered that they could use the snow to make tiny snowballs and stick the ends of the bones in them for joints, making really interesting buildings and bridges. Then Papyrus took one bone and Sans took another, pretending that they were toy figures of themselves. “They” climbed the buildings, crossed the bridges, and had all sorts of adventures.

Sans taught Papyrus how to roast food on the fire for each meal, which thrilled his little brother immensely. They sat in front of the basin, Papyrus in Sans’ lap, while Papyrus held the spear over the flame. Sans covered his brother’s little hands with his own, guiding and helping him with the spear. Sans showed him how to tell when to turn the food, how to know when it was fully roasted, and which foods cooked fast and which cooked slowly.

Papyrus proudly ate the first roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich he ever made—with Sans’ help, of course—and Sans couldn’t stop gushing to his brother how these sandwiches were way better than any sandwich he could ever make.

And at night, before bed, Sans told Papyrus bedtime stories their parents used to tell them, repeating them nearly word for word. Papyrus stayed up to hear every word, completely enthralled by the stories and the way his brother told them using funny voices for the characters and acting out several of the parts.

When the story was over, Papyrus applauded, then settled down on the haversack pillow, scooting over to give Sans room. After getting into bed beside his brother, Sans made the blue bones disappear, leaving the fire to dimly light the room. He covered themselves in the fabric and lay back, Papyrus snuggling into his arms.

“Nigh nigh, Sas,” Papyrus yawned, his eyes already closed.

Sans nuzzled into his brother’s skull gently. “Night, Pap.”

 -

 After breakfast on the third morning, Sans felt confident that Papyrus was well enough for a small foraging excursion. Papyrus had regained all his lost HP with food, and had even gained extra HP from sleeping the prior night, now being at 120 HP. It appeared that sleep on full HP really gained monsters extra, and was not just part of Sans’ strange, new condition. It was something that probably had happened to Sans and Papyrus their whole life, but they had never noticed—and being playful children getting scrapes and bruises all the time, it probably didn’t happen often enough.

Sans was extremely pleased with his own HP after two nights of great sleep. He was at 80 HP now, and felt much stronger for it. If he was careful enough, he’d surpass his old 250 HP in a few weeks.

Sans removed all but two of the warming racks, since Papyrus no longer needed the constant flow of warmed fabrics. He kept the two highest—one on each boulder—and the absence of the lower bones made getting around the fire room much easier. He wanted at least two bones for warming so they could warm up and dry out their clothes after trips outside in the snow.

Sans helped Papyrus put on his shoes as they sat on the bed. Then Sans stood up and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head.

“Ok, shoes, done. Scarf next, but first...,” he winked at his brother. “Stay right here.”

Papyrus watched curiously as Sans disappeared into the fire room, then emerged with his hands behind his back.

Sans stood in front of him, grinning widely. “Since you’re so helpful to me when we forage, you’re going to need—” he pulled out what he was hiding, holding it out, “—this.”

Papyrus gasped long and slowly in awe, his eyes growing wide.

It was a small shoulder bag. Sans had made it from the grey scrap of fabric. While Papyrus had been sleeping, he worked on making it for him. He had punched holes along all the edges of the fabric square with an arrowhead and threaded two long ropes through the holes—one rope circling through on one side, the other on the opposing side, so the ends of one rope were on the direct opposite side of the other—and tied the ends. When the ropes were pulled from their middles, they folded and gathered the fabric into a bag-like pouch, the ropes becoming two long straps.

He had learned the technique from his mother, who loved to show him how to craft things. Sans knew the bag wasn’t perfect because he didn’t have shears or better materials, but he was proud of it anyway.

Papyrus, completely stunned by the amazing surprise, put out a tiny hand and touched it. Sans grinned and put the rope straps over Papyrus’ shoulder. Papyrus slid off the bed slowly, gripping the rope and smoothing the bag out as it lay against his hip, his mouth unable to close in his awe. He stuck his tiny hand in the opening and felt around in the space. He picked it up to look closer, and, noticing the color, turned to Sans’ grey haversack on the bone coat hook. He pointed at it excitedly and looked up at Sans.

“That’s right,” Sans answered, smiling wide. “Just like mine.”

Papyrus hugged the precious gift—his first ever bag of his own—then hugged Sans even harder.

Sans hugged him back, nuzzling into the top of his brother’s head. “You’re welcome. I’m so glad you like it.”

Sans got his jacket, haversack, and Papyrus’ scarf off the coat hooks and wrapped the scarf on his brother, who couldn’t stop admiring his new bag. Sans put on his jacket and shouldered the haversack, then looked down at Papyrus.

“Ready?”

Papyrus nodded eagerly, clutching his bag preparedly.

Grinning, Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s head, then went through the opening to dig out the entrance, followed by Papyrus. Sans sealed the entrance with snow and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. Then the two skeletons went off, hand in hand, into the valley to forage.

[luckycloud808]

weird asks that say a lot from @julietgiulia​

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Chocolate 

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Neither

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? Shy, conscientious, perfectionist

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Glasses

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? All contributors

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuddies :)

8. movies or tv shows? Movies

9. favourite smell in the summer? Hot soil, flowering plants, fruit and needle trees, post rain, towel after ocean swim, wind through car window driving through forest(ed highway)

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Hockey, soccer, california kickball, high jump and arm hang? 

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Usually oatmeal or millet with omegas, fruit and oat milk or avocado bagel with black pepper and nutritional yeast

12. name of your favourite playlist? A nice mix for ness

13. lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. favourite non-chocolate candy? Licorice, candied fennel or anise seeds

15. favourite book you read as a school assignment? Les miserables, The thief lord, The cellist of Sarajevo - off the top

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Slumpy posture, one leg over or under the other, knee tuck or apple sauce

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? Hiking boots or black sambas

18. ideal weather? Sunny after rain a little windy

19. sleeping position? No pillow usually on my left or on my back or front with one leg bent 

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Notebook or notes app

21. obsession from childhood? Fairies and making homes

22. role model? Opa

23. strange habits? Not sure what qualifies as strange

24. favourite crystal? Not really into them but maybe jade or quartz 

25. first song you remember hearing? I turned out a punk or something by Joe Strummer

26. favourite activity to do in warm weather? Backpacking

27. favourite activity to do in cold weather? Cuddling, snowy adventuring, dancing

28. five songs to describe you? Hazel (bob dylan), Planted a thought (arthur russell), Junie (solange), Corridor of dreams (the cleaners from venus), Even cowgirls get the blues (emmylou harris)

29. best way to bond with you? Quality time, presence, care, spontaneity / silly curiousity

30. places that you find sacred? Oma and Opa’s yard and greenhouse, forest, Veluwe, ocean

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Floral dress, nice earrings with sambas and sweatshirt or hiking boots, wool socks and over shirt, with shorts and tank top

32. top five favourite vines? Fresh avocado is the only one that comes to mind

33. most used phrase in your phone? Yay sweet and or That’s funny

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? Can’t think of any

35. average time you fall asleep? 2am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably one of those justgirlythings ones here or Fb I have no idea

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? Tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon tart

40. weirdest thing to ever happen to you at your school? High school - Maybe bear spray yoe evac? authority figure telling me what I was wearing was inappropriate? psych teacher crying in class? Post sec - Tiktok famous boy makes a tiktok of me knitting in psych class? boy crushing steals my textbook just to get me to go to his car so he can return it to me? 

41. last person you texted? Daisy 🌼

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? BOTH

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie

44. favourite scent for soap? Rose, patchouli, rosemary, lavendar, mint, etc.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Naked 

47. favourite type of cheese? Cashew cheese or if I could brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? White nectarine but there are so many to try!

49. what saying or quote do you live by? “She walked with her entire body as if to gain momentum for an event in which her entire body would participate.” - Anaïs Nin (A spy in the house of love)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably my kid best friend

51. current stresses? Health issues, unstable income

52. favorite font? Freight rn

53. what is the current state of your hands? Coffee shakes

54. what did you learn from your first job? Hundreds of PLU’s, how to pack groceries, how messy and wasteful people are, that everyone should have to do a customer service job in their lifetime, how really great and awful people are, that I shouldn’t let other people’s stresses make me feel like I should be stressed, that quitting is good sometimes

55. favourite fairy tale? The six swans, Vasalisa the wise, Baba yaga, Bluebeard, Rumpelstiltskin, The red shoes, The velvet ribbon, Goldilocks and the three bears, and many many more

56. favourite tradition? Writing letters and cards, dressing up for halloween, celebrating birthdays

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Eating disorder, depression and heartbreak (although these are things I still need to keep being overcome)

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Writing, taking notes, learning about my body, feeling for what resonates

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Heyo, how bout that!

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Nausicaä of the valley of the wind (hayao miyazaki)

61. favourite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Recently found on my Tumblr feed from a book waiting on my shelf: “I want to believe, walking those aimless nights, that I was praying. For what I’m still not sure. But I always felt it was just ahead of me. That if I walked far enough, long enough, I would find it–perhaps even hold it up, like a tongue at the end of its word.” - Ocean Vuong (On earth we’re briefly gorgeous)

62. seven characters you relate to? In no particular order, not long thought out: 1) Sabina (A spy in the house of love), 2) Elio (Call me by your name), 3) Patti (Just kids), 4) Sally (The ruby in the smoke), 5) Camille (Un amour de jeunesse), 6) Dani (Midsommar), 7) Orla (Derry Girls)

63. five songs that would play in your club? I follow rivers - the magician remix (lykke li), JA! (bizzey), Gasolina (daddy yankee), Nice for what (drake), This must be the place - naive melody (talking heads) / love my way (psychedelic furs)

64. favourite website from your childhood? Myscene, Club penguin - those free gaming websites 

65. any permanent scars? A few on my face from tables and my dog, one on my knee from flip flops on a boat launch, a few burns here and there that probably aren’t permanent

66. favourite flower(s)? Always changing, echinacea and yellow roses rn

67. good luck charms? Change on the ground, nice earrings, well worn shoes, spotting flowers or animals

68. worst flavour of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Cream of mushroom

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? Popped in my head, maybe not the most fun - the flower bud in the centres of apple tree fruiting spurs make the king fruit (the biggest and best apple from each spur) and if you pick the king blossom then all the surrounding blossoms will be bigger and better 

70. left or right handed? Right

71. least favourite pattern? Galaxy?

72. worst subject? Economics

73. favourite weird flavour combo? Miso and apple, blueberries and coconut curry, orange juice and beer (I don't know if its really possible to find a “weird” combo maybe it’s more like “not found in my culture”)

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 5 if 0 is no pain (I don't think I’ve been above 8.5)

75. when did you lose your first tooth? No idea

76. what’s your favourite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Gnocchi or boerenkool

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? Flowering plants

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Station coffee

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? School id

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Earth

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? I don't think I have much experience with either

82. pc or console? I cannot either way

83. writing or drawing? This is my kryptonite question

84. podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts if I had to choose

84. barbie or polly pocket? Polly pocket

85. fairy tales or mythology? Mythology (stories are linked more)

86. cookies or cupcakes? Cookies

87. your greatest fear? My health issues keep accumulating and getting worse forever

88. your greatest wish? My health issues resolve

89. who would you put before everyone else? Myself, Suzmom or Marleymoon

90. luckiest mistake? Choosing mini school, don't regret it but maybe not the best decision

91. boxes or bags? Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight and rocksalt lamps

93. nicknames? Ness, nessie, nessa, bean, bear, benjamin, kindje, sweet pea

94. favourite season? Late spring or late summer

95. favourite app on your phone? Flo, Spotify, Google maps, notes, weather, find my

96. desktop background? Santa Catalina Island off the coast of Southern California

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? 7+

98. favourite historical era? I love revolutions and renaissances but all of em have hard times and good times

[asheewrites]

Doctor Visiting - Paris - pt 4

The angel sat there and flipped between the pages of the menu, tapping her finger, or smiling at the words in front of her.

She was distracted enough to let Asmodeus think. These ‘terms and conditions’ for him did not truly limit him. He could do as he pleased and Raphael would… simply refuse him if he ‘got somewhere’.

… but playfulness and teasing was… actively encouraged and possibly engaged with.

Easy to work with. Especially since ‘getting somewhere’ would be defined by him.

Hah.

A rather lenient ‘code of conduct’. By comparison of past ones – if he got one.

 “It’s an impressive menu, sir. It’s a hard choice. Any recommendations?” She smiled sweetly. And spoke French. Seamlessly.

The waiter was pleased. Strings of French explanation falling from his tongue. Different glacing techniques, which salad was in season and how it complimented the truffles, differently ripened oils for dressing. The wild Salmon has a direct route from the ocean to their restaurant, their preparation will remove all fishbones, no need to break any eye contact.

“Very nice, I’d be happy to try it a-“ here she send a glance to Asmodeus, stuck with that for a second, then continued towards the waiter: “- all, but I think meat was an option?”

It did not curb his enthusiasm when he switched tracks and offered her the ‘Foie gras’, ‘Couilles de mouton’ and ‘Ris de veau’, along with stomach and feet and tongue of various animals as well as snails, including the different kinds of preparation.

After two minutes of talk she chewed on her lip and started asking about sauces and preparation techniques. As she asked for the roasting temperature, Asmodeus laughed: “I’d be delighted to eat your second choice, you are free to taste”

Her face lit up immediately. And the order came to: “Tapenade canapés, Jambon persillé, a cheese platter, Couilles de mouton, Le Gigot D'Agneau Pascal, a bottle of still water and… a white wine?”

She looked over to him and he chuckled and agreed: “Sure, we’ll be satisfied with your choice of vintage and origin, thank you”

“Thank you very much. If available, I’d love to peruse the dessert menu. Err... later”

The waiter scribbled and nodded and smiled and informed them their salads would arrive soon and… disappeared.

Raphael sat there. And closed the menu: “Thank you! I mean… I suppose you tried all this already and you know what tasted good, so… thank you for letting me try out something that you might not like and-oh” her face fell. “… I… should have asked”

“Raphael, it’s fine. I offered. But… you didn’t order any fish, is there-” The angel carefully avoided looking at him. Light topic of conversation. Right. “-well, thank you. So, the meat… do you… know what you ordered?”

She perked up: “Oh. Is that about the lamb? I think even Christi-“

“Testicles. You ordered testicles, Raphael.”

Excitedly the angel, nods and reports: “Yes! It’s very rare to have them on the menu. Even though it should be very interesting, since the texture should be different, especially if they ‘sauté’ – whatever that is – them in slices and marinate t before, because muscles are fascinating to work with. I wonder f the semen got drained or stocked in them. The high protein would be interesting. And I do wonder how that tastes, so… yeah, I did order them.“

‘I could help you figure out the taste.‘

It took a moment fight his every instinct. Sometimes, you have to consider your audience, even with the most imperative quips. Instead, he said: “I suppose the lamb will be my course, then,” since he rarely heard someone that excited about eating testicles, so.

“Then it’s decided. I got the three starters that can be the… most weird. So… maybe you get something interesting as well? I avoided cheese, mostly, because it’s rotten milk, but… they make the strangest things taste good. But then again… they have to eat, don’t they? Merci!” Their salad and water arrived. The waiter apparently didn’t have that many customers.

“We are in France, the cheese is actually delicious. The producers of the cheese make it an experience though.” Asmodeus watched Raphael’s eyes light up. This was easy…

“Really?” She bit into a small tomato, distracted for a second (“Crunchy”), before her attention returned to him.

“Mmmhmh, you can find all manner of farms offering tours in the French countryside. You get to pet the animals, see where to cheese is stored so it ripens… you get the full experience in the department of smell… it’s worth a look. And, of course, you get to taste the cheese”

She looked like she will disappear this instance.

“Another time, I can take y-“

“Yesplease”

He had to laugh at that: “I can also give you a map with the best farms and you can go explore on your own? If you are that eager”

“Oh. No, I can’t. I’m not allowed to meet the… err… civilians without a companion. Not yet. I didn’t get the true ‘field agent’-education yet. It’s a thing. Apparently. Figured it only recently. So. Besides. It’s more fun with company,” she looks to the side, “If the company has time and feels like cheese. In this case. Of course. Or feels like anything else and wants to change the destination,” she half-shrugged.

Huh. Well. Not all demons could go to Earth either. But an archangel? Huh.

Asmodeus tilted his head: “… you’d go anywhere with me, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, definitely. I mean… as long as it isn’t against any other rule. I don’t think it will ever be boring.”

It made his eyebrows raise. The answer left an odd feeling. And he decided not to comment. Instead: “Well, I couldn’t make myself out to be boring now, could I? But… thinking about it... You never rode a rollercoaster - you… haven’t even seen Disneyland. You weren’t in the Royal Albert Hall. You never visited Tokyo in its entirety. India in settled regions were off the table, too. What… did you do up to now… you… probably poked some of the most venomous creatures on the planet in Australia And visited some of the hottest – got you there - and coldest places… cold… Iceland… you probably never saw the penis museum either,” he snickered.

“Nope!” She finished her salad with a flourish. “But I’ve heard of it and it’s terribly amusing to me. Definitely worth a visit… but… I have to admit… the hot springs are more of a draw for me… it’s in the middle of snowy fields! It must be amazing” She laughs. “And you get to roll around in the snow to dry yourself. Afterwards off to a tiny wooden hut with a fireplace, a huge fluffy carpet to lay on and be buried in a heap of blankets, cocooning until your immune system – and, lets be honest, any blood circulation and muscles, too – boot up again .  And… well, yeah. Iceland. Probably very cool. With all the museums, too” She scratched the back of her head and looked sheepish.

Someone dreams… elaborately.

“Paris does have the Louvre on the menu of museums as well,” he pointed out, already expecting the sparkle in her eyes. ‘Mostly European history mirrored in art’, something from every century, she listed works she had to see there, mostly birds. Maybe she can look at the original flute and figure how they made it sound like an actual bird. She started to get off topic with symbolisms of birds and how they can safe most old paintings for her, since the meaning is almost always something positive… and she likes crows, thank you very much.

He could have interrupted her, but he had a salad to eat. And she was excited. About old art. When he inserted the fact that he had known some of the artists, she stopped dead in her tracks. And stared. And actually needled him about it. That the one he had picked to tell her about was Raphael might have something to do with it.

The little excursion ended with the ‘Sistine Madonna’ and the tiny angels on the bottom line. Which, the angel Raphael pointed out, were terribly cramped and unhealthy-looking, but he possibly only had dead birds to look at anyway.

It gave Asmodeus pause, just for a moment, looking out at the very much living pigeons outside, and said: “… you think they could get that cramped?”

“Err… no. No, of course not. It’s a simple misalignment, he… didn’t put much thought in the connection between bone structures and the wings, so… it looks wrong to me, but I suppose if you don’t see the natural shape of… pigeon wings every day, it’s not that strange. Thank you very much!” She nodded at the waiter, who took away the salad plate and replaced it by the various appetizers.

This certainly was one way to answer, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He watched her sniff every piece of the selection and said: “… but you said cramped, so it didn’t look too unnatural? It could happen?” Wing injuries weren’t… something he ever wanted to pay much attention to.

She looked towards the ceiling, frowned and then shrugged: “Maybe. Depends on the structure of the wing. What kind of bird is sampled. Very unlikely. Haven’t seen it yet. And I’ve seen some… unpleasant misalignments of feathers. Recently, too.” She cut off a piece of the canapé, the taste test resulted in an excited squeal. “This is good!” She stabbed the second half of it and reached over the table towards Asmodeus: “Try! It’s GREAT”

His eyebrows rose and his eyes wandered from her excited face to the canapé. Standard, really. But he laughed. And leaned forward to pull the piece off with his teeth.

Raphael watched him chew with excitement. And… the verdict… was that it was a normal, if done well, canapé. He still said: “The goat cheese does compliment the fruit very well.”

It made her smile and she continued to sample, occasionally succumbing to the urge to feed him. Apparently that was a thing Raphael just… did. And he couldn’t help a smile.

“I… am glad you enjoy, but… recent feather misalignments?” It seemed… off.

She looked up with the fork still sticking out of her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed, the answer was: “Well. Ahm… you… did show up at the clinic, recently. And apparently that… resulted in an uptick of customers from… your side - apparent approval from you and all – and… well… I am the only one treating wings. I can’t give anyone else the guilt of having caused a wing injury. So… I see an influx of field agents that didn’t dare ask anyone else for a long time, so… there is a bit of damage. So… for me it’s recent. For them? Months… years… who knows?” Again she shrugged. “It’s an offer open to anyone, if you want to spread the information? No one deserves damaged wings. But it’s… hard to actually ask, in some cases. The clinic is judgement-free, just know that the appointment is always at least a week later. And one can cancel or not show up to an appointment, no judgement there, either” She frowned and wrinkled her nose. “… this sounded like a sales pitch. But well, I mean it. Spread the word, maybe? Proper treatment needs a partner, and not anyone has that”

And then her attention returned to the cheese platter.

Ah. So… that’s how… that worked.

He nibbled at the piece of cheese held in front of his nose. A non-smelly piece. Mh.

[femstayathometradmom]

It was a busy day today. I spent a good amount of time cooking. It was a snowy day so we ended up staying at home. I winterized the chicken coop today. I put in the heated water bowl and moved their feed into the coop. That way I’m not trekking through the snow to get their food to them more than I have to. I also managed to finish up painting more. I did as much as I could until I ran out of paint but we should only need one more can of paint for that room and then it’s done. I bundled up and moved several bags of feed today as well as water softener so at least I got my arm work out in. I have another birthday party for my daughter tomorrow. I have a split family so I have to have separate parties for every birthday and holiday in order for both sides of my family to see the kids. So that’s my plans tomorrow. More baking and cooking for the party. I left the decorations up from the last party so I don’t have to worry about that part. For breakfast this morning I made biscuits with egg and cheese, then I kind of skipped lunch because we were so busy. For dinner we had homemade pizza and I made some brownies for the birthday party tomorrow. I have to make another cake tomorrow because I didn’t get around to it today.