#flatbread and shrimp

[plantmarrow]

do you fw them

[daily-deliciousness]

Shrimp banh mi flatbread pizza

[brutal-nemesis]

Since you suggested asks for the demon Castys AU...

I'd love to see if Neteri would let him outside like she did with Erebus, and how he would act during the outing, and find out what his reasons might be for not stubbornly fighting her at every turn. Or maybe he does take the chance and run for it? I'm mostly just curious how that scenario would play out.

Sorry this took so long but it's 3.5k words of these two being goobers so I hope that makes up for the wait!

←Previous - Castys & Terror AU Masterlist - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: some dehumanization associated with slavery, threatened vivisection, noncon touching (unsexy), mentioned noncon surgery, mentioned aphobia

"I thought this was supposed to be, like, a good day for me."

"It is!"

"Put the fucking leash away, then."

"Maybe if you actually behaved for me, I'd consider it, but you're not exactly the most trustworthy, Castys."

Castys rolled his eyes, grumbling. Neteri was the one who'd fucked up his crazy arm surgery and let that creepy bitch H-something come in and nearly strip him naked, but, sure, he was the one being ridiculous. "I guess, but I never even said I wanted to leave the palace. I just wanted delicious street food. You're the one who's deciding to take me outside."

Neteri sighed. "Have you ever even had street food?"

"…No. I just, uh…" Castys scratched the back of his head. "It…it always smelled good from the window of the castle. But my parents wouldn't let me go and try it. Said it was 'unbefitting of my station'." He snorted. "Like I'd ever been up to their standards anyway."

Neteri gave him a sympathetic smile. "I figured it was something like that. Well, what you don't know is that it's best to eat street food when it's fresh. It wouldn't be as good if I just brought it back to you. Plus, I think part of the experience is eating it on the street! Well, not in the street, you don't want to get hit by carts-"

"That much was obvious, thanks." Castys weighed his options. Stay here and think of something else he wanted, or agree to humiliation and eat delicious hot food on sticks? Sure, his magic tongue made everything taste good, but what he wanted was variation, something he'd never tasted before. Those mysterious smells that always wafted up to his window. Fuck, he was already salivating a bit. It didn't help that he hadn't eaten much last night in anticipation of today. "Fine. We can go."

"Great! You won't regret it, I promise!" She said that like Castys wasn't already regretting it a bit, feeling the weight of the chain as she attached it to his new metal collar. The weird red arm she'd given him turned the same shade of brown as the rest of him pretty soon after he got it, but after a few days he'd managed to make it turn red again and grow claws when he wanted it to, and the first thing he did was use the claws to rip his stupid collar off. Neteri didn't exactly appreciate that, and, after spending the night with his wrists chained behind his back, he was gifted a thick metal collar in the morning, which was just…lovely.

Maybe she was right about him not being trustworthy.

"So, what, we're gonna walk around and I'm gonna be your little slave boy?" Castys asked as they made their way through the palace's hallways.

Neteri shrugged. "Something like that. People aren't really going to pay you any mind. Slaves are common enough here."

"Do other people take their slaves for walks like dogs?"

"No, because other people aren't as nice as me," Neteri said proudly.

"Right, of course. I'm very grateful that you cut my arm off and then did a shit job of putting a new one on."

"Okay," Neteri sighed, "I get it. How about I turn the leash invisible, is that enough for you?"

Castys didn't give much of a shit about what random city people thought, mainly just bothered by the pull of the thing on his neck, but…"If you do are you still gonna drag me around by it? It'd look pretty fucking stupid."

"I guess not, so…here." She grabbed his right hand, the links of chain sort of balled up between their palms. "That's not too much touching for you, is it?"

"I can live with it." It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative, and he didn't mind his hands being touched, really. He had to shake a lot of hands with a lot of random people back in his old life, so he was used it. Neteri did her invisible-leash magic, and they continued on their way.

Outside was bright, which was not surprising, but he still had to blink a few times. Fuck, he…he forgot how nice the sun felt. He hadn't even considered the actual outside part of being outside, and it was pretty nice. The sun, the birds, the salty sea breeze, the little lady tugging him along to somewhere…

"So where exactly are we going?" he asked, glancing down streets as they passed them by.

"The seaside market. They have the best food stalls in the city. I don't really have a particalur one in mind, though, so if you see something you want just let me know."

"Sounds good." Castys's stomach grumbled, and he found himself feeling a bit excited. He was going to get good food and get to look at the ocean, which he'd always had a fascination with. He made trips to the seaside when he could back home, but there was always a part of him that longed to hop on a boat and sail away. He…he could do that today, if he played his cards right. Get away from Neteri somehow and stow away until he got discovered and then be forced to work so he didn't get thrown overboard-

Wait, why did his escape daydream end in him basically being a slave again? Could he really not imagine just being free? He tried, but he realized he had no idea what he would do. Freedom to do what he wanted was sort of a foreign concept, now that he thought about it. Most of his life had been dictated by his parents, his future set in stone, never allowed room to even dream of another destiny. But then that other destiny came and it was a brand on his chest and a metal collar around his neck and he still didn't have control over a single fucking thing.

And you would think the idea of finally having control would be attractive but it wasn't it was overwhelming and nauseating and he was a little relieved when the ship's captain caught him and told him to scrub the deck because at least he knew what he needed to do he didn't have to sit there and try to come up with something he'd never had to before he probably wasn't even good at it he wasn't built for it he was just supposed to be-

"-ou alright? Castys?" Neteri was looking up at him, concern in her eyes. She'd pulled them into a quiet side street without him realizing it.

His mouth was dry, and he wondered if he'd been breathing quickly. He swallowed. "Um, yeah, I think I just…got overwhelmed for a second." He plastered a smile on his face. "I'm fine now."

Neteri frowned slightly. "If you say so. Just let me know if this is too much and you want to go back, okay?"

Castys huffed and rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I'm not gonna want to go back."

"I suppose you won't. But, just so you know," she took a step closer, and then another, backing him against a wall as her arm rose up to pin down his neck, "if you try to run, there will be consequences." All the kindness was gone from her voice, her words as cold as her gaze. "No one will help you, and, if they do, they will be breaking the law. You are legally my property, no matter if you believe it or not. And when you are caught, which you will be," her other hand slid under his shirt, pressing against his stomach, and Castys couldn't help but tense up, "I will cut you open and take a good, long look at all of your organs." Her fingers slid upwards, the lightness of her touch making his skin crawl. "Is that clear?" Her hand stopped above his heart, which was pounding a lot faster than he'd like it to.

His eyes darted around, searching for someone, anyone who was watching, who saw him being fucking threatened in broad daylight. But no one gave a shit. That stupid fucking collar was all they needed to see, and suddenly this was okay. He was less than human, after all. Left with no other choice, Castys looked Neteri in the eye and nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, ma'am."

Neteri's demeanor changed completely, and she stepped back, beaming. "Good boy!" She took his hand once more, pulling him along like none of that had just happened. "We're almost there! I'm sure you're hungry."

Castys's appetite had disappeared, but smelling things would probably bring it back, so he nodded. "I'm known for my huge stomach, so you better be ready." This was supposed to be his day, so Neteri better be ready to get him whatever he damn pleased.

Just as soon as he shook off the feeling of her hand under his shirt.

Finally, the buildings gave way to the vast expanse of the ocean, the docks stretching out into the blue crowded with sailors and workers, crates of cargo and coils of rope, the stalls lining the edge of the street busy with vendors advertising their food to hungry passerby. All it took was for Castys to lay eyes on a beautiful, glistening skewer of beef for his appetite to come roaring back. He pointed at it, excited for the first time in ages.

"I've found our first target."

They wove through the crowd, waiting in line after line as Castys saw another thing he'd like to try, only stopping once they couldn't carry any more. They settled down on a ledge by the docks, and Castys took a moment to go over their haul.

His first love, the beef skewer, which he'd had a few bites of in line for other food. The meat had melted in his mouth, juicy and spicy and just pure bliss. Then, there were fried shrimp with a curry sauce all wrapped up in a flaky flatbread, a bowl of noodles stir-fried with pork and vegetables, sticks of crispy potato with a garlic sauce, and a thick mango and yogurt drink.

Every bite was better than the last, and Castys couldn't help but kick his legs back and forth a little bit as he chewed. Neteri watched him with a warm smile, clearly enjoying her food as well. Castys's eyes wandered as he ate, and he ended up watching a strong sailor lady unloading some cargo. She made moving those heavy boxes look effortless, unless they were empty and it was actually effortless. Either way, she had a cool headband and some awesome fire ink designs of sea monsters on her arms. He'd be happy to serve under her in his new sailor escape fantasies.

"You have good taste in women." Neteri was following his gaze with a dreamy sort of smile. What did she mean by…oh, that kind of taste. That kind of tracked for her, now that he thought about it. But as for him…

"Huh? Oh, I just thought she looked cool. I…I don't really have a taste in women."

Neteri cocked her head slightly, smiling openly. "Taste in men, then?"

Castys swallowed. She probably wouldn't care, right? It's not like it mattered for her experiment. "No, I just…don't." He stared at his feet, not wanting to see her reaction.

"Well, nothing wrong with that." Neteri said casually, taking another bite. Castys blinked, slowly turning to look at her, mouth falling open slightly. Nothing…wrong? Neteri noticed him staring and gave him a concerned look. "You okay, Castys?"

"I…" he leaned back, looking at the sky. "No one's ever said that to me before. My parents…it was the one thing that upset them that I wasn't doing on purpose." Their words echoed in his head, the yells that he was broken and faking it and not a real man hurting far more than any insults directed at him for bad behavior. "Are you sure there's not something wrong with me?" he asked quietly.

Neteri huffed, shaking her head. "Of course not. That's just how you are, and you're not the only one who's like that. You don't have to like people or get married or anything if you don't want to. It's perfectly normal."

Normal. He wasn't sure if he even knew what normal was, between his royal upbringing and his demon body parts. Still, while Neteri's opinion of things wasn't always the most trustworthy, maybe…maybe she was right about this. He'd rather believe her over his parents, anyway.

"Have you…have you ever actually met anyone like me? I just always sort of figured I was the only one." It sounded silly now that he said it out loud, but it's not like the topic ever came up when he met people.

"I have! My little brother doesn't really experience attraction, either. He just wants to live with his best friend forever. There are a few people I met in medical school who feel that way, too. So you're really not alone, okay?"

Castys couldn't help but smile, warm relief replacing the tension in his muscles. "Thanks." He didn't want to get too sappy, so he shoved noodles in his mouth. Thinking more about that could happen later when he was in bed and also by himself.

Neteri was impressed when he finished all of his food, and the look on her face when he said he still had room for dessert was priceless. Even so, she insisted he needed a little time to digest, giving the excuse that there were better sweets stands to be found along the cliff face at the back of the city.

So off they went, wandering through the maze of streets, stopping to look at whatever weird things she thought were significant, which included a dusty-ass bookstore, an old poster that she thought was hilarious for some reason, and, the coolest thing, a bunch of different rocks from around the world. If dealing with foreign representatives had involved more cool rocks, Castys might have actually paid attention to the discussions he'd sat in on growing up. Alas, it was all trade agreements.

Finally, they reached the market along the cliff face, and the bustle here was even more overwhelming than the docks had been. There were all sorts of crafts and magic tools and baskets of spices and, best of all, sugary fried stuff.

Castys examined his options carefully, in the end deciding to go with sweet little fried dough balls that came with a creamy vanilla dipping sauce. They were amazing, but his hands and face got all sticky, and Neteri laughed at him for getting custard on his nose. He got his revenge the moment she grabbed his hand again, rubbing his sticky fingers all over the back of her hand.

"You have got to be the grossest prince I've ever met," Neteri mumbled as she used her water magic to clean them both off.

"I try my best." Castys grinned, taking the insult as a compliment. His eyes wandered as she cleaned in between his fingers, a particularly colorful stall catching his eye. If that's what he thought is was…he could at least ask, right? "So, you know, I've been a very good boy, I think."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked up at him. "For the most part."

"Right. So, like, I'm full, and I'm very grateful for all of the food, but if there was, um, something I could get to have later…?" He flashed his most innocent smile.

Neteri relaxed slightly. "Such as? I don't know what's going to keep well, except for…" she looked around, stopping and smiling when she realized what he was talking about. "Sure, I'll get you some candy."

"Epic." Castys eagarly pulled her over to the candy stall, already weighing his options, wondering how many pieces he could get, and what he even wanted.

"You can get five," Neteri sighed, almost sounding like a tired mother. Five was enough for Castys, and, despite his initial idea of getting a wide variety, he settled on five different flavors of candy sticks. They were decently sized, but not so big he couldn't fit the whole thing in his mouth, which was important. You had to be able to have a hands-free enjoyment experience, but be able to take a break and talk or something using the stick to take it out. Castys usually kept the stick in his mouth long after the candy was gone so he could feel like one of those cool guys who sucked on grass without actually having to have grass sticking out of his mouth.

"I get the other flavors, but you're really getting one with a cricket in it?" Neteri asked as they walked away from the stand, putting his candy sticks in her bag.

"I've never eaten a cricket. I want to see what it's like to be a lizard."

Neteri giggled, giving him a slightly confused look. "I guess it's too bad I'm not turning you into a lizard then, huh?"

"If you were I would accept my destiny more readily." Which was true, he would enjoy laying on a warm rock in the sun for extended periods. He looked over at the stripey cliff face, wondering how many lizards were skittering around on there. For the first time, he noticed all the people gathered around the base of it, laying their hands on the dark crystals randomly embedded in the surface. "What's up with that?" he asked, pointing.

"Oh, that's where people send their energy and prayers up to the Midnight Sun." Upon seeing Castys's blank expression, Neteri continued. "That big symbol in the cliff. It lights up at night thanks to people's energy. It's believed that prayers said while touching one of the stones are sent up to the sun. Do you want to try it?"

Castys had never been the spiritual type, but he was curious about the wall itself, so he could think some thoughts to the ball in sky while he was at it. "Sure, I guess."

The cliff was sandstone, upon closer inspection, which wasn't shocking, but the crystals in the surface…he wasn't sure what exactly they were. Definitely added by people, at the very least, and probably fire element minerals since they made shit glow. Which was why he was here.

Castys put his hand on one of the crystals, thinking. This was basically like making a wish, right? He was apparently too much of a little bitch to run, so wishing for freedom was stupid. Maybe he should wish for some fucking direction on…on anything. Or he could wish to be a lizard who just got to scuttle around and eat bugs and not be expected to do anything. Or he could wish for a million more candy sticks. Or he could wish for something that was remotely realistic, just in case it might come true.

Dear the sun, please make it so I don't have to wear this stupid collar for the rest of my life. It's uncomfortable. Also I want to go on a boat at least once. Sincirely, Castys.

Good enough. He stepped back, a tiny bit woozy from leaving his hand on the crystal for too long. Neteri had already finished, so with that done, they headed…back towards the palace. It was getting sort of late, and he'd known they wouldn't stay out all day, but…

"Did you have a good day, Castys? Have enough good food?" Neteri gave his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah. I'm very full and in a little bit of pain but it was worth it." Manners might be a good idea since Neteri cut him open all the time. "Thanks for the food and stuff."

"Of course! I hope this makes it up to you after that whole mess with your arm."

"Nah, that'll take at least a hundred more candy sticks."

Neteri laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Now I know where to buy them."

"I expect regular deliveries. No excuses." Maybe he'd be a better test subject if he got little treats more often. He could certainly be persuaded.

"Understood. I won't let you down." Neteri opened the door to the palace, gesturing for him to go first.

After taking one last glance at the city behind him, Castys turned and walked inside, the collar around his neck shifting as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The day outside was over, and his chance to escape was gone.

He wished he was a little more upset by that, but as Neteri led him back to his cell, all he felt was relief.

AU taglist: @vampiresprite @whump-in-the-closet

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen

@whumpedydump

[hotdogsandsoup]

One variant of hot dogs in Sweden is the Halv Special - one hot dog in a bun with mustard, ketchup (underneath), and mashed potatoes, plus a cup of chocolate milk on the side. I tried this and it felt like something a kid would eat? Very much comfort food:

As for what’s shown in the chart, that’s pretty much a tunnbrödsrulle, one famous variant of hot dogs in Sweden. It seems like onions are optional in most recipes, but the lettuce is mandatory. Shrimp salad and mashed potatoes are the defining toppings of this, and we just need a flatbread. I used the shrimp salad recipe from here.

I made the hot dog as shown in the chart:

I don't know, I felt like this one was missing something. It was fine, but also felt stodgy.

Then I made the tunnbrödsrulle, which is almost the same. I added ketchup and mustard and left out the fried onions. The ketchup and mustard definitely added something and this iteration was actually decent. I think I'd prefer the "Rhode Island base" for the shrimp salad in this.

[niteshade925]

April 16-18, street food and home cooking:

An interesting regional specialty from Baoding called lürouhuoshao/驴肉火烧, otherwise known as "donkey burger". It's really good, a little like Xi'an's roujiamo, but with a baked crispy flatbread on the outside and braised donkey meat on the inside that is actually pretty tender, unlike what many have said.

More home cooking. Left is a humble stirfry of shrimp and a type of napa cabbage? (not sure) Right is kourou/扣肉, basically steamed pork belly

[sweethoneyrose83]

Murder Drones Recipe Ideas

1. Nori-Byte Bites

Ingredients: Sushi rice, nori (seaweed), avocado, imitation crab, sesame seeds, soy sauce

Inspiration: These mini sushi bites are designed to resemble small, compact "bytes" of data or power packs that Murder Drones might consume. The nori wraps give them a dark, sleek look.

Presentation: Shape into perfect squares or cubes for a robotic, mechanical feel. Top with small sesame seeds to resemble tiny data points or circuits.

2. Blackout Burgers

Ingredients: Black brioche buns, beef patties (or plant-based patties), cheddar cheese, grilled onions, lettuce, tomato, spicy aioli

Inspiration: A sleek, dark burger to mimic the ominous atmosphere of the Murder Drones universe.

Presentation: Serve with a side of fries shaped into jagged "energy" strips, and top the burger with a glowing-red ketchup swirl or spicy sauce to resemble glowing drone eyes.

3. Nano-Wire Noodles

Ingredients: Squid ink pasta, garlic, olive oil, chili flakes, shrimp or tofu

Inspiration: These dark, tangled noodles resemble high-tech cables or wires, giving a mechanical yet sleek vibe.

Presentation: Plate in a swirling pattern, and garnish with red chili flakes to resemble scattered debris from drone battles.

4. Plasma Punch

Ingredients: Blue curaçao, lemonade, sparkling water, edible glitter

Inspiration: A futuristic, glowing blue drink to resemble the plasma energy drones might use to power themselves.

Presentation: Serve in a clear glass with glowing ice cubes (LED-embedded ice cubes for an extra cool effect) and a sprinkling of edible glitter to give it a radiant, tech-like shine.

5. Techno Tarts

Ingredients: Puff pastry, dark chocolate, red raspberry filling, powdered sugar

Inspiration: These tart-like pastries resemble hard, metallic exteriors with dark, sinister cores, perfect for a Murder Drone-themed treat.

Presentation: Cut the pastries into geometric shapes like triangles or hexagons, drizzling with raspberry sauce for a blood-like appearance. Dust lightly with powdered sugar to create a contrast between dark and light.

6. Circuit Board Cookies

Ingredients: Black cocoa sugar cookies, green royal icing, edible silver pearls

Inspiration: Decorate these cookies to resemble circuit boards or robotic components.

Presentation: Use a piping bag to create intricate green icing patterns mimicking circuits, adding silver pearls as connectors or "nodes" on the board.

7. "Oil and Gears" Spaghetti

Ingredients: Squid ink pasta (for that oily, dark look), ground beef or plant-based meat, black olives, and diced sun-dried tomatoes.

Instructions:

Cook squid ink pasta to give a "mechanical oil" effect.

Sauté ground beef or plant-based meat with garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, and olives for a savory, rich sauce.

Serve the pasta with the sauce and garnish with shaved parmesan resembling "metal shavings."

8. "Blood Battery" Smoothie

Ingredients: Mixed berries (strawberries, raspberries, blueberries), coconut milk, and chia seeds.

Instructions:

Blend berries and coconut milk into a deep red smoothie that looks like a "battery fluid" but tastes delicious.

Add chia seeds for texture, mimicking the look of tiny bits of circuitry.

9. "Broken Drone" Nachos

Ingredients: Black tortilla chips, queso, shredded chicken or beef, jalapeños, and avocado.

Instructions:

Scatter black tortilla chips on a baking sheet like "broken drone parts."

Layer with queso, shredded chicken, and jalapeños, and bake until melted and crispy.

Add chunks of avocado to represent the "core systems."

10. "Circuit Board" Pizza

Ingredients: Flatbread, pesto, mozzarella, black olives, cherry tomatoes, and basil.

Instructions:

Spread pesto on the flatbread as the "circuit board."

Arrange mozzarella slices to look like "wiring" and use olives and tomatoes as "buttons" or "nodes."

Bake until cheese is bubbly and garnish with basil leaves for extra "green circuits."

11. "Metallic Heart" Chocolate Truffles

Ingredients: Dark chocolate, heavy cream, and edible metallic luster dust.

Instructions:

Make classic chocolate truffles by melting dark chocolate and mixing with cream to form the ganache.

Shape into hearts and coat with edible metallic luster dust for a shiny, "robotic heart" look.

12. "Battery Acid" Lemonade

Ingredients: Lemon juice, blue curacao, club soda, and ice.

Instructions:

Mix lemon juice and blue curacao for a sour yet strikingly electric blue drink.

Add club soda for some fizz, and serve over ice in clear glasses to resemble "battery acid."

13. "Rust and Decay" Brownies

Ingredients: Dark chocolate brownie mix, cocoa powder, and red food coloring.

Instructions:

Bake brownies using dark chocolate mix.

Add red food coloring to some cocoa powder and sprinkle over the top of the cooled brownies to create the appearance of "rusty decay."

14. Drone Eye Cake Pops

Ingredients:

Cake mix (flavor of your choice)

White chocolate coating

Red candy melts

Candy eyes

Black gel icing

Instructions:

Bake the cake and crumble it into fine crumbs.

Mix the crumbs with frosting to form dough and shape into small balls.

Dip the cake balls in melted white chocolate and let them set.

Drizzle red candy melts to create a "bloody" effect and add candy eyes.

Use black gel icing to add details.

Inspiration: These represent the "eyes" of the drones, with the red candy melt resembling their bloodthirsty tendencies.

15. Oil Spill Ice Cream Sundae

Ingredients:

Chocolate ice cream

Oreo crumbs

Black syrup (chocolate or black food coloring)

Silver sprinkles

Instructions:

Scoop chocolate ice cream into bowls.

Top with crushed Oreo crumbs for a crunchy, "oil spill" effect.

Drizzle black syrup to make it look like spilled oil.

Sprinkle with silver sprinkles for a robotic touch.

Inspiration: A dark and delicious treat inspired by the idea of oil spills and machinery gone wrong in the Murder Drones universe.

16. Blood Orange Sparkling Punch

Ingredients:

4 cups of blood orange juice

1 cup cranberry juice

2 cups sparkling water

Fresh rosemary for garnish

Instructions:

Mix the blood orange juice and cranberry juice.

Add the sparkling water to give it a bubbly effect.

Garnish with fresh rosemary for an eerie, metallic touch.

Inspiration: The punch represents the "oil" or "fuel" that robots might run on, with the blood orange juice symbolizing the dark, ominous mood of the Murder Drones world.

[ediet-the-right-way]

Sharing from my meal plan Notes to those who need ✨

New Plan - Calories

No Snacks Between Meals

No Grazing

Eat without distraction / Mindfully Eat (when kids are asleep, when you don’t have to get up every ten seconds)

Eat One Bit at a time

Chew each bite 20-30x

Start fast at 5pm / 6pm

End fast at 11am/12pm next day if possible

5 hour eating window, 2 meals a day with 1 snack or 3 meals. Plan emergency snack.

Tea Between Meals

Sleep by 7/8p

Avoid Food Noise

Drink tea

Exercise

Make a protein shake with a lot of ice

Take a bath

Shower / do hair

Prep foods for next day using bento boxes.

Eat at the same time every day. don’t destroy a good routine.

Everything you eat at work, eat the same way at home

If doing Low Carb / Keto

Pre: I’ve never had a good run with keto but for those of you who are trying it, follow guidelines below.

Stay under 1100-1000 Calories

Boiled egg with shrimp

BLT Salad from Keto Cook Book (Lettuce in lieu of bread)

Veggie Egg and Cheese Bake

Examples:

Breakfast: Start at 12p: 470

1 cup egg whites - 133

with S/P/Garlic Powder

1 Egg - 70

2 ozFeta - 80

5 Cherry Tomatoes - 17

Sautéed mushroom and Onion - 50

- OR -

Meal: (Keto) 430

6 oz Steak - 240

1 Egg - 70

1oz Feta - 40

15 Spears Asparagus - 60

4 Cherry Tomatoes - 20

Meal: (Keto) - 367

Salmon - 280

Asparagus - 27

Meal 2: 323

2 Cups Salad Greens - 20

1 tbs skinny girl dressing - 5

4 Cherry tomatoes - 20

1 Cup Shredded Chicken - 170

1/4 Avocado - 58

1 oz Feta - 40

Meal:

2 Turkey Roll Ups

Tomato and 1/2 Avocado Salad

1 Egg

2 Sweet Peppers

With cream cheese

- OR -

Meal: 460

Cottage Cheese Flatbread Pizza

* 1 Cup Cottage Cheese - 180

* 2 Eggs - 140

* Mix , Bake at 350 for 40min

* 2 tbs Pizza Sauce - 40

* Mozzarella or Violife Cheese - 100

- OR -

Meal: 352

2 Cups Salad Greens - 20

1 tbs skinny girl dressing - 5

6 Cherry tomatoes - 20

1/2 Cup Shredded Chicken - 85

1/2 Avocado - 100

1oz Feta - 40

1/4 cup Blueberries - 10

1/4 Cup Strawberries - 12

1/2 tbs Dark Chocolate Chips - 50

Pickled Onions - 10

Snack: Protein Shake

* 1 Scoop Protein Powder - 80

* 2 Tbs PB2 - 60

* 1 Cup Almond Milk - 30

* Ice - 0

-OR-

* 1 tbs Peanut Butter - 98

* Smashed Berries - 50

* On Toast (Dave’s Killer Bread) - 60

- OR -

Pick from one:

My ask is always Open if you need meal ideas ✨

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

Adopted Dadmas: Dadmas versus Haven

The red light was blinking on Jak’s talk-box again. Damas was no fool, he knew that meant someone was spying through the floating comm -- or attempting to. Doubtless, the eavesdropper thought they were being very subtle, keeping silent whenever adults were present. As if they believed Jak would keep their presence a secret. As if they believed he would never tell.

Damas tore a circle of flatbread into pieces and used them to scoop a mixture of cooked peppers onto his plate. He pretended not to notice the talk-box hovering next to Jak’s elbow in a terrible attempt at stealth, instead choosing to engage Daxter in a conversation. He was determined to get the kid apprenticed to the head of the merchant guild one way or another. Daxter had a head for business and trade that Jak, simply put, did not. He nodded along when his friend talked, but privately Damas thought it would do Daxter good to be around adults who could encourage his interests.

Periodically, Jak cast swift glances at his talk-box during the meal. He seemed like he was expecting someone to speak at any moment -- or more like he was expecting orders of some kind. His shoulders were tense, and he was shoveling down food much too quickly, like he thought he wasn't going to have time to finish it.

"Slow down, young one. The shrimp isn't going anywhere, and neither are you," Damas admonished.

Jak didn't slow down much, but he did start chewing a little more thoroughly. Small victories. Still, he looked tired, and on-edge. Had Ashelin or the sage been badgering him again when no one was around?

The initial idea had been to lay a trap. To feign ignorance and bait the spy into speaking aloud, thus forcing Unpleasant Diplomatic Discussions with Haven's motley assortment of would-be leaders. But just now, Damas decided, the health and wellbeing of his son took precedence over strategy. And he still had the element of surprise, anyway.

"Talk-boxes off at the table, Jak," he announced, gesturing directly to the lens watching them, "This is a meal, not a media interview."

The boy flinched and looked guilty. He had no reason to; he'd been open with Damas about the demands for labor since he first returned from Haven. But then, he'd been groomed from such a young age to believe that bad things happened because he didn't work hard enough for his "friends". Perhaps he still feared retaliation for establishing healthy boundaries? Better to confront the issue head-on then, Damas decided.

"If your uninvited watcher has an emergency, they are free to petition me directly," he said, leveling a stern glare at the talk-box. "On their own time, not yours. Come on, switch it off."

Someone made a muffled sound, barely picked up by the talk-box's speaker. It seemed they were not expecting to be so casually acknowledged.

"Jak-!" the watcher tried to protest, but Jak reached for the power button.

"Right. Sorry, Pa."

Once the light had faded from the little camera, Damas nodded, satisfied. He picked up a shallow bowl with tomango in it and held it out to Jak.

"Here. You need the vitamins."

Begrudgingly, Jak took two slices, then a third when Daxter gave him The Look across the table.

The ottsel cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Pal, you gotta get better at telling those people no. They can't hurtcha!"

Jak hunched over his plate, frowning.

"I know," he muttered sullenly. "I- I do know that, okay? They just don't listen!"

Daxter sighed and his ears drooped. "Yeah...I know. Old Greenstuff only hears what he wants to hear. Always has."

With a frustrated groan, Jak rubbed his eyes. "After everything he's done, I shouldn't be having trouble cutting Samos off. Why do I keep going back?!"

"He's familiar," Daxter admitted, and not without a touch of loathing. "He was all we knew for like, our whole lives. I hate him -- I'll always hate him -- but I get being afraid to lose that last connection to Sandover."

"....yeah." Jak winced. "I um...I think you're right. It's just. It's hard."

"I know, pal."

"And he knows I have two artifacts that go with those weird pillars in the forest!" Jak continued, "What do I do when he starts asking why I haven't brought them?"

"You end the call," Damas interrupted firmly, "or you give the line to an older Wastelander. Collecting those relics serves the interests of our people, and our people will be working in teams to locate them."

Perhaps this was Jak’s fight as much as anyone else's -- this Daystar and its coming threat -- but Damas was reluctant to involve him. Wasn't losing one son bad enough? He'd never survive losing a second one!

Besides, even someone as talented at sneaking into hidden places as Jak couldn't infiltrate places locked by the Seal of Mar. Whatever the Grand Council of Haven wanted with the catacombs, it was a matter for Damas to deal with, not the boys.

Jak picked at his tomango slices almost glumly. Whether it was his own struggles with setting boundaries that bothered him, or Damas’s advice for dealing with future calls, no one knew. But Daxter and Damas both knew that Jak wouldn't keep it bottled up for long. Sure enough, after a couple minutes of mangling his food without eating it, Jak finally looked up.

"You didn't tell me you were sending other people to look for the relics I told you about."

It was almost a question and almost a complaint.

"No, I didn't," Damas acknowledged, and sipped his tea. "The topic hadn't come up between us yet. Is there something about it that concerns you?"

Jak had difficulty putting his thoughts into words. He started and stopped three times before muttering, "It's dangerous. What if someone gets hurt and I'm not there?"

"What if someone doesn't get hurt and you're not there?" Damas countered. He leaned an elbow on the table and gestured to himself almost self-deprecatingly. "Age does not grace the Spargan who is careless, nor are many years added to the foolish. Do not worry so much about people who were hunting metalheads for sport before you were even born, son."

"Admittedly," said Daxter, "We're still getting used to the concepts of adults who can actually fight their own battles. Am I complaining? Only when they decide it's "Take Your Ottsel To Work Day". But even I still go into jobs expecting to have to save everyone's butts at some point."

"Justified with the monks." Jak pointed a piece of tomango at his best friend.

"Yeah, justified with Mime Club."

Damas threaded his fingers together under his chin and watched the boys a moment.

"How about this," he offered, "If an artifact is located but not yet retrieved, I will give you the option of participating in the mission. Or, you can wait until everything has been gathered, and we will go to the pillars together."

For a moment, Jak brightened. Then he looked pensive again. "What if there's trouble? I mean. I was never really- I never claimed Haven, but they act like I belonged to them. What if me bringing another nation into their forest makes trouble for Spargus?"

"Hmph. Perhaps it is better to settle this now, rather than engage in hypotheticals."

Damas held out one hand.

"Give me your talk-box."

Jak narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to do?"

"Not your concern."

"Papá...." somehow Jak managed to sound both suspicious and scolding.

Damas remained unmoved. "Hand it over, boy."

Reluctantly, Jak did so. He cringed when the device powered on, and Keira's voice poured out.

"Jak? Are you okay? Daddy came in fussing about someone interfering with- you're not Jak! Where's my friend?!"

By the mortified expression on his son's face, Damas guessed this was the sage's daughter. The childhood friend Jak still sort of had a crush on.

"Tell your father to stop harassing my son," Damas said shortly. "Especially during hours set aside for family meals. Was he raised in a barn? In fact, ask him that for me."

"Pa, no!" Jak hissed, making a futile grab for the talk-box.

"Your son?! Who are you? Who- hey, Daddy, c'mere. You know this guy? He says he's Jak’s dad!" Keira became muffled for a moment, stepping away from her own device to drag her father over. "Why's this guy think you're harassing Jak? We've only called him twice since he left. Right?"

"Insisting he keeps his comm on at all times so that you can all monitor every moment of his day is not an acceptable use of Federation communication lines," Damas cut in. "I shouldn't have to tell you that spying on the nation of Spargus in such a way could be taken as an act of war."

"This-! This is bigger than Haven or the Wastelands!" Samos sounded flustered- even a bit nervous. "Surely you understand the claim destiny has upon Ja-"

Damas made a dismissive sound in his throat, cutting the sage off. "Pah. Destiny. I should think the recent Praxis regime and my own continued existence would be enough to call concepts such as destiny into question. As it stands, my claim on Jak supersedes "destiny" -- or more accurately, you."

"The fate of the planet hangs in the balance!" Samos cried, though somewhat subdued compared to his usual confidence. "Can't you see that?! Don't be so bullheaded, Jak is needed-"

Jak recognized the glint in the king’s eyes as mischief. Daxter looked a little too eager to see where this was going. Jak resisted the urge to cover his face in embarrassment. Why and oh why did Keira have to be the one to answer the line?!

"Oh? Are you planning to challenge me for custody of my son?" Damas bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile. "Please, by all means! The Arena is ready whenever you are."

"Pa!" Jak gripped the sides of his head and stared at the man. "Not in front of Keira!"

"Look, old man-" Damas ignored Daxter's delighted cackle. "This planet will survive through united efforts, not by sitting back and hoping one boy alone will get the job done. Now, if Haven wishes to negotiate a temporary alliance to get this done sooner, there is no one stopping them from requesting a meeting with the Wasteland Federation. In the meantime, the Federation intends to continue preventing the apocalypse with or without your participation."

"You are?" Keira cut in over her father again, sounding genuinely curious. "You mean there's more people who can get into ruins?"

Jak got up and moved to the head of the table. Damas moved the talk-box out of his reach preemptively, but Jak made no move to grab it.

"That's their whole thing, turns out. You know Krew? Yeah, everything he sold you, he bought from Wastelanders. Even the defunct power cells."

The slightly warped image of Keira on the screen flickered as she leaned closer.

"Seriously?! I could've cut out the middleman and just worked with them all this time?! Ughhhhh. Hindsight is 20/20 I guess. You want to show them my research from the palace library?"

Behind her, Samos jumped. "The what?! Keira, the library was destroyed with the rest of the palace!"

"The building collapsed, sure," Keira retorted, "But the data cores are still mostly intact in there. If you don’t mind crawling through some tight places and bringing lots of Scout Flies, it's a cinch to get the files for Vin."

Samos looked apoplectic. "Keira! That's far too dangerous for you!"

His daughter rolled her eyes. "What? Jak and Daxter can do it but I can't? Don't you trust me?"

Damas stifled a chuckle and elbowed Jak. "I like this one," he whispered. "Invite her to Spargus sometime."

Jak wished the floor would swallow him.

[donutprincess250]

Woohoo! I got my first donation and I took the feeder to Red lobster. I ordered over 100$ worth and the feeder just got fish n chips and a beer... Over 80$ was for me 🤤 I had the ultimate feast with upgraded coconut shrimp and asparagus. The lobster flatbread, 3 biscuits and 2 margaritas 🥵 I could barely drive it's the fullest I've ever been.

[lionsongfr]

Crystalline Gala Cuisine

Been a bit since I made a festival cuisine, and since my old ones have been circulating, I guiltily figured I should make one for the Gala before it ends.  Gaolers and Tundras are both herbivores (though Gaolers also eat meat), but I headcanon that like most herbivores they will opportunistically eat fish, insects, and meat when given the chance. The dishes have a bit more mixing than the previous cuisine; in the Icefield you eat what you can and as much as you can to survive. Potato Onions are my replacement for potatos, because FR needs potatoes (and citrus and tomatoes and wheat and rice and spices).

Seeker Stew- originally a stew of necessity for traveling Seekers, it was made of dried Sea Grass, small Cragside Mussels, canned Common Minnows, Sour Elk milk, and spoiled Turnips. The dish was transformed back home, using fresh Spinach, meaty Olympia Oysters, Jumbo Shrimp, new Potato Onions, and…sour Snowfall Elk milk. Funk is flavor!

Shalefin in a Fur Coat- this uniquely named dish is a layered salad, like the layers of a Tundra fur coat. It is made of finely sliced pickled Shalefin fillets, grated Potato Onion, Gradish, and Honeycrisp Apple, and chopped hard-boiled Flecked Bushrunner eggs. The key binding ingredient is a flavorful mayonnaise made of Elk tallow, Dappled Clucker yolks, and dill.

Bear in a Cave Dumplings-a favorite of the Fae scholars of the Frozen Sanctum. It is a boiled or fried Potato Onion dumpling filled with fried Wooly Bear, Wild Onion, and Dryad's Saddle. It can be served with melted Elk milk butter and Winter’s Delight jam or a white sauce spiced with dried Dusky Mealworm and imported Golden Pepper.

Tundra Grub- a dish named after the main protein of the dish: a sausage filled with Tundra Grub meat, Longneck-grown oats, and Elk blood. The sausage is fried along with strips of Tundra Cactus before being added to an earthy brown sauce of Mycena Mushroom and Earthworms. It is typically served with an unleavened flatbread made of rye or Longneck oats, or a mash of Potato Onion.

Woodland Turkey Dinner- this was once a seasonal dish, but now is common year-round. While the star of the dinner is the roasted Woodland Turkey, the side dishes are just as essential. The most common is: Deep Sea Lobster and Jumbo Shrimp stuffing, roasted Winter Brussel Sprouts with a Superberry vinegarette, Tundra Grub and Potato Onion mash with Mycena Mushroom gravy, and Stonecorn rolls with Elk cheese and White Lace Honeybee honey. And last but not least, a Cinnamon and Honeycrisp Apple pie. A heavy dinner said to put even Sentinels to sleep!

Trunk Cheese- not actually cheese, but a cold meat dish made of fresh Bullephant Trunk (or Mammophant, though it is not as tasty).  The meat of the trunk is removed and cooked in a mix of spices and Wild Onion, and then poured and set with gelatin in the skin of the trunk. Slices are cut from the trunk and served upon rye bread with strong Wild Mustard and pickled Gradish.   

Edamame Soup and Pancakes- a popular yet odd combination of savory and sweet. This dish features a Chilled Edamame soup (heated of course, the chilled variety of plants grow better in the hot houses of Icefield) with large chunks of smokey Elk bacon, a sprinkle of thyme, and a dollop of Wild Mustard. The pancakes are made of nutty and mildly sweet Amaranth flour and served with Winter’s Delight jam. The soup is traditionally dished with a silver spoon, after a mighty Tundra king was poisoned by his favorite soup.

Warden’s Delight- a dessert, a snack, a spread upon rye bread, and a delight to every hatchie. It is a mix of Elk tallow, Spotted Seal or Wooly Walrus oil, fresh snow, and Winter’s Delight. As the mixture is whipped into fluffy peaks, it is traditional to sing “Warden’s Delight to fight off the night, no Shade or beast shall fill my sight. Drive away the hunger, drive away the cold, fill my belly and make me bold.”

Frozen Bouquet- flowers are rarity in the Southern Icefield, but this bouquet is made from flash-frozen flowers and fruits. After thawing they are quickly coated in a thin layer of crystalized maple syrup and then arranged into a bouquet. Often the bouquets have hidden meanings like Pretty Pink Mums for courting. Winterbelle for strength, and Wolfsbane for warning. But what every Tundra fears the most is a bouquet of Black Tulips.

 Crisp Morning Cider- Vodka is life to Ice Flight, the warmth in one’s chest in a land where winter never ends. And while most drink it “neat”, when rations are low then cocktails are the answer!  This drink is a common morning warmer and is a mix of White Lace Honeybee honey with hot water, Vodka, Honeycrisp Apple cider, and Cinnamon.

Boreal Brew-a tea made from the leaves of whatever green tree is available. Birch, Fir, Spruce, and Pine can all be brewed into an astringent tea with a citrus-y aftertaste. Unfortunately, Birch, Fir, and Spruce are typically harvested during Spring-Summer- but Pine is harvested during December. To help remove the bitter taste, Pine can be fermented with sugar for a week to a month (fermentation time depending on temperature) and then filtered and served as cold tea.

[ktarsims]

Life Updates and Such...

Soooo.... many things! At the moment, I've finally pulled myself somewhat out of the doldrums caused by lack-of-job + job-search-sucks and am making all the preparations for celebrating the end of this year and the start of a new one.

I think I've binged something like 30+ anime series in the last month or so, along with reading many many books.

Today, I've finally got some bots working in the Creator's Cave discord, to make things a bit easier there. There are more updates I still need to do, but it's a start.

My hope for this week, is that in addition to my preparations for New Year's, I'll be able to actually finish my project of turning some of my flower photos into TS3 art. No promises, but I'm hopeful.

Below the cut, for the curious or nosy, the menu and preparations for New Year's.

Before anyone starts to wonder... two of the friends coming to my place for New Year's are really really into Pumpkin, so this is reflected here. Yes, this is probably too much food and drink for... 6 people, but hey... leftovers.

**Food** 1 frozen lasagna, family size 1 batch homemade mac&cheese (made by not me) Cheeses! (Extra sharp white cheddar, brie, various spreadables, 3 varieties of goat cheese) Crackers! (Ritz garlic butter, rosemary flatbread, 5 other assorted) Meats! (Summer sausage, dry salame, fig salame) Tea Sandwiches! (Cream cheese + smoke salmon or cucumber or jam) Scones! (I plan to make at least 3 varieties, but haven't yet decided which.) Oven ready appetizers! (Takoyaki, bagel bites, baked potato skins, loaded tater tots, mini quiches, mozzarella sticks, and more.) Shrimp Cocktail platter Veggie Platter Sweet Maui Onion potato chips Homemade snack mix (Corn Chex, Rice Chex, Pretzels, Cashews, Pistachios, white cheddar cheeze-its, white cheddar cheese puffs)

**Sweets** Pumpkin Spice Twinkies Iced Pumpkin Cupcakes (this is also hostess brand) Yackwa Korean donuts (gift from a neighbor) Assorted flavors of KitKats Pumpkin Pie yogurt covered pretzels Butter Rum Crunch popcorn Bourbon Crunch popcorn Milk Chocolate cherry cordials Other assorted chocolates

**Non-Alcoholic Drinks** Five different flavors of Martinellis sparkling cider Pumpkin Spice cold brewed tea (caffeinated) Pumpkin Creme Rooibos cold brew tea (herbal) Pumpkin Pie cold brew tea (herbal) Various Gatorade

**Alcoholic Drinks** 'Strong Mead' from a cider festival (gift from friend) Expensive bottle of Sake 'Demon Slayer' 1 bottle Louis Perrier Champagne for ringing in the new year Berenjaeger Green Apple Sake Peach Sake Umeshu Plum Wine Matcha Plum Wine (I'm really curious about this one) Butterscotch Shnapps Pumpkin hard Cider Dark Chocolate Cherry Moonshine Eggo Brunch Sippin' Cream A cupboard full of other assorted things that probably won't be looked at.

[coldshrugs]

take another step off the edge (redux)

pairing: io laithe /estinien varlineau word count: 2.7k note: first kiss incoming. this is a rewrite of the first thing i wrote about them and i think it's stronger all around :>

The meyhane is boisterous, as she knew it would be. Thavnairians are fond of seeking out their favorite watering holes when their working day has ended, eager for daylight and its heavy heat to give way to a night filled with pleasantly warm breezes, cool drinks, and intimate company. Mehryde’s is a popular destination for those reasons.

And Io is surprised to find she’s become a regular.

Throngs of thirsty revelers vie for unused tables or opt to stand in whatever free space their group can claim–all the better to dance, of course. Music played at a most unenjoyable volume swallows most conversation. Still, judging by the raucous peels of laughter and cursing that break through the sound, that might be a blessing from the gods themselves. Io picks her way through the packed wine house towards the usual spot, quite sure her apologetic smile comes across as a grimace. She is more than aware this is not her scene, yet she has accepted the invitation for the fourth consecutive week and eagerly anticipates the next.

Even places she would normally find uncomfortable are made pleasant by a close friend, or so she tells herself.

Estinien sits at a small, round table tucked away against the back wall. He hasn’t noticed her yet, but Io’s heart is in her throat as she approaches. The angles of his face are caught between the darkness pouring through the mezzanine and the colorful lights dancing further in the bar. One hand is propped under his chin, and the other loosely holds the rim of his half-finished drink. He looks as aloof as ever. Why he chose this place is a mystery to her.

When she breaks through the last few people, his expression brightens immediately.

“There you are,” he says, a hand raised to flag down a server before setting his attention firmly on her. “All’s well?”

She has no choice but to return his smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m afraid I’m still finding my bearings in the city.”

“Takes some getting used to, I suppose.” He pulls out the chair next to him, closer than the last time, and faces her fully when she takes it. “Have you any news from the sorceress?”

Right to the point, then.

“Not yet. But Shtola will find something, of that we can be sure. Unless Nidhana and her alchemists come through first.”

He nods his agreement and sips his drink, but speaks no more on the matter. 

Io fidgets with the edge of the tablecloth, unsure of what to say or if she should’ve said more. She doesn’t want to talk about the godsdamned void gate but now there’s no room for pleasantries. His silence feels weighty tonight, so unlike the blanket of comfort she’s grown used to; something is on his mind. Io thinks to ask what it could be when Mihleel saunters over, notepad at ready.

“What can I bring Mehryde’s favorite guests?”

They order their usual and before long the table is littered with glasses of beer and watered raki, joined by well-sampled small plates holding skewers of grilled shrimp and vegetables, cubed melon drizzled with honey, fried squid served with a spicy pepper sauce, and fluffy flatbreads waiting to be dipped in lemony yogurt. The food alone might be worth the crowd and the noise, but there is another reason she returns week after week.

Estinien relaxes as they eat, drink, and catch up. Talk of their work in the area is quickly forgotten in favor of less professional topics: the people they know, the places they’ve traveled, and the things they still want to see or do. They lean in to be heard over the drunken buzz around them, sliding their cushioned stools ever closer. The pauses between questions are gentle now, patient and easy. Theirs is a comfortable tension, like a sore muscle finally being stretched.

“Have you returned to Ishgard since we disbanded?”

He tells her of a brief visit with Alberic and a longer visit with Aymeric, who writes ‘far more often than he has any right to,’ apparently. The edge of his annoyance softens under years of fondness, and it is clear he misses his friend.

Io watches as he talks. The incongruity of delicately painted glass held in a strong hand, the way he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, and the flex of tendon and muscle in his forearms. His face is flushed, from drink or the weather she cannot say, but it bleeds from his cheeks and ears down to his chest. Her own cheeks warm at the sight. The light breeze billows his loose shirt and it is everything to keep her eyes from roaming.

But he is watching her too, eyes darting between her lips and the hand nervously tangling in her hair or touching her neck, but always returning to meet her gaze. He tops up her raki before she can ask, pours just the amount of water she’s come to prefer, and why has he bothered to learn that?

“Apologies. I’m boring you, surely,” he says. His leg shakes under the table. “Now, you tell me some triviality or other. What’s on your mind?”

“Nonsense. I enjoy hearing about them, and I like when you talk like this.” Her hand falls to his forearm, his warm skin growing warmer beneath her touch, and both of them look down to the point of contact. 

Shit.

“Shit.”

Oh. She said it out loud.

Io jerks her hand away, turning her focus to her cup. She clears her throat before draining the milky-looking beverage. It is difficult to tell which burns more, the sweet anise-flavored spirit or the embarrassment scorching across her face. “I–” She laughs, unbidden, her own nervousness threatening to consume her. Close friend, she repeats in her mind. You are my friend, no matter how much I wish we were more. “I don’t know what came over me. There has been a substantial amount of raki tonight and, trust me, you’re better off being spared my thoughts in this state.”

He breathes something like a laugh into the space between them and glances from her to the empty cups–too few to claim drunkenness and they both know it.

Io closes her eyes and wonders if this will finally be the thing that kills her–nevermind saving the world from whatever terrible fate might threaten it next. While she ponders which would’ve been kinder, drowning in Leviathan’s slippery embrace or giving in to the light and becoming a lightwarden of unfathomable beauty and horror, Estinien lifts her wrist and places her hand on his arm once more.

She feels him shaking, his leg beneath the table, and his hand moving over hers, unsteady fingers tracing over her own until they fall away and leave only this simple touch. The surge of people and all their noise fade out of existence. It’s just them. Just him.

Io opens her eyes to catch Estinien’s little smile, half-hidden behind his glass as he finishes his drink too.

His chin rests heavily in his hand, exaggerating his smirk. But his eyes are what do her in. They lock on hers, soft and perceptive, willing her to act. “There is nothing I wouldn’t know about you, Io.”

Io begs her heart to slow its furious pace.

“Shall I bring another round?” Mihleel’s high-pitched lilt breaks through the haze and Io’s head snaps in her direction.

She tries to smile, but her head is far from clear, “I… I think we’ve had our fill for the night, but thank you for everything. You can leave it on our tab.”

Estinien does not deign to look in Mihleel’s direction. “Our thanks,” he mutters, his voice so low Io wonders if Mihleel heard him at all.

Their server’s eyes gleam with interest, dancing between Io and Estinien. Her tail darts behind her, rapid as a cat waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. “Mhm. In that case, I’ll leave you both to it. Enjoy your evening.” She wanders to the next table, gone as quickly as she appeared.

“Estinien–”

“I’ll walk you to the aetheryte.” He glances at her hand still on his arm, then stands, pulling away in the process.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” She joins him in standing. His brows knit as he nods twice, expression twitching between confusion and hurt. He wrestles with himself just as she does, and she’s offended him without meaning to. “Vrtra knew I was coming and asked to speak with me tomorrow, though I have no idea what he might want. Regardless, he’s invited me to stay at the palace so I won’t be returning to Mor Dhona tonight. Perhaps you could help me find the guest wing?”

His relief is palpable, and the smile he gives her is as easy as the one before. “‘Tis a bit of a trek, but shall we walk there? The city can be rather scenic at night.”

“I’d like that.” She means it, ready to take any excuse to spend more time with him.

They leave the Meyhane and bypass the small, shimmering aetherytes that would quicken their journey through Radz-at-Han, from the far end of Artha to Dharma.

Io thought the bar was overwhelming, but it is just one small part of the whole. Radz-at-Han is somehow even more vibrant at night. Color streams from every surface and the late-evening crowd bustles from one lively venue to the next. Estinien navigates the labyrinthine streets with his usual calm decisiveness, though his pace is unhurried. With him at her side, the sights and sounds feel lush. Inviting, even.

He is relaxed here. At home. There is a softness about him that would look out of place if she did not know him so well.

They meander through the city, making quiet conversation and sharing jokes along the way, stopping when something catches their attention; a street musician, a vendor offering spun sugar, the proprietor of a noticeably vacant tavern promising free drinks to the first twenty people in the door. Their arms brush each time they sway out of someone’s way, and she wonders what he’d think if she took his hand.

Another time, perhaps.

The evening stretches out, little by little until they have nowhere else to go besides their quarters.

The palace seems to glow in the night, light pouring from the upper windows and glinting off the lustrous surfaces. She had little time to note its beauty during the Final Days, and hasn’t had an extended visit since. Estinien pauses to let her take it in.

“I did say you would enjoy the views.” He crosses his arms, making no effort to hide his self-satisfied grin.

Io laughs lightly, “I’m glad you suggested the walk. Not that I needed convincing.”

He gestures toward their left with a nod. “Come, the guest quarters are this way.”

They reach their destination, a high-ceilinged corridor meticulously painted with vibrant shades of green and pink, and accented with delicate gold leaf. This sight, like every inch of Meghaduta, is astounding, even in the dim light. The guest hall is uncharacteristically free of the attentive staff so prevalent in other parts of the palace.

We are alone, Io realizes. It is more than simple fact—it is an unignorable sensation, felt like the sudden awareness of her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Like her chest rising and falling in stuttered intervals.

Her door lies a few paces ahead, and Estinien’s must be just beyond it. The easy peace between them simmers. There’s no crowd to make way for, and still, they walk close enough for their hands to brush.

“I think this is me.” Io hesitates in front of her door, gripping the handle, and looks up at him. Estinien crosses his arms again, caught in a sliver of moonlight. His silver hair gleams with it. She wonders what it’d feel like between her fingers. Gods, has he always looked like this? “I’ll say goodnight.”

She leans against the door, lingering.

Hoping.

“You need not say it so gently, you know?” Estinien takes a step closer. He’s half-smiling, and there’s something spirited in the words. Something as hopeful as she is.

A wave of giddiness rushes through her chest. Her friend, her ally for years, and now something new rips at the seam between comfort and possibility. But it’s not new at all. It has followed them for countless months, grown into something they can no longer overlook. Estinien stares down at her, unflinching, familiar, and full of fondness.

Io tugs the thread.

“How would you prefer I say it?”

Her eyes flash to his lips, still smiling, and she’s not sure who moves first.

Estinien raises a careful, calloused hand to her cheek before sliding it behind her neck. Io clutches his shirt, marveling at how the warmth of his skin bleeds through the fabric. They pull, and now they are forehead to forehead. His breath is on her face, his nose brushes hers. This is real, and he is warm, and he trembles when she slides her fingers through his hair (softer than she imagined it would be).

They pull, and his hand is on her back. Her chest is against his, and his heart plays the same long-suffering beat as hers. His fingers drift across her neck, pulling her hair away so he can feel her skin. He is fluid and certain, he moves like he needs her. His words echo in her mind: ‘There is nothing I wouldn’t know about you, Io.’ And she would know all of him as well. His mind, his heart, the taste of his lips, the feel of his body against hers. 

They pull and–

This it, the ephemeral moment before that will define everything that follows. A tender spark ignites between them, the answer to a question they’ve asked privately for several months: could you feel the same?

–they collide.

Yes, is the wordless reply, lost to the heat of this Thavnairian night. Yes, they say with searching hands, wondering how close is too close as they reshape their friendship into something new. Io feels starved for him, even as she gasps against his lips, pressed between the door and his body.

There is a careful sensuality in the way he touches her, a neediness to his kiss that makes her head spin. She smiles against his mouth, and he smiles back before deepening the kiss. His hands travel across her back, down to her waist, pulling her against him and reveling in her every reaction. She doesn’t want this to end but they are quickly approaching a threshold she isn’t sure she’s ready to cross. Not yet, not tonight–but his lips move to her throat and seven hells, she has been waiting for him for so long–

Io’s elbow knocks the door’s handle and it swings open behind them.

The kiss breaks. They catch themselves mid-stumble, fighting to keep their laughter quiet. As mortifying as alerting the staff would be, the feel of his hands on her waist might be worth a bit of embarrassment.

No one comes, and they stand in the cool moonlight for a moment, entangled and amused by this series of events. A smile plays on Estinien’s lips, one more brilliant than she’s ever seen, and he makes no effort to restrain it. How long has he wanted this?

He touches her face again, thumb sweeping across her cheek. “More fitting, wouldn’t you say?”

He kisses her quickly, and she chases his lips. He rests his forehead against hers, a frustrated little rumble building in his throat. One more is not enough, but they stop there.

Io beams, covering his hand with hers. “Then I should expect the same in greeting next time I see you.”

He hums a quiet laugh as he parts from her, turning to leave. “Goodnight then,” he says, throwing one last adoring look towards her before closing the door behind him.

Io is left standing in the center of her dark room, in the wake of Estinien’s warmth. The ghost of his kiss still tingles on her lips, his touch still warms her body. She resists the urge to follow him next door and pick up where they’ve left off.

Unable to stop smiling, she readies for bed. Nothing, no one, has ever been more worth the wait.

[niteshade925]

Apr 6-8, restaurant and fast food:

Started to go around visiting other relatives, went to a restaurant that had more local specialty dishes.

Another cold dish appetizer. This one is a mix of peanuts, spicy vegetables, century eggs, Chinese vinegar, and cooked clam meat. I'm not a big fan of century eggs, but I like the clams:

Deep fried river shrimp with dry seasoning of salt, pepper, cumin, and roasted sesame:

Dry-braised turbot fish (dry-braise/干烧 is a method of cooking that originated from Sichuan):

Sugar and vinegar small yellow croaker (sugar and vinegar/糖醋 is another general type of dish, and the flavor profile is sweet and sour, but it's very much not the same as "sweet and sour" in Americanized Chinese food, so I opted for the literal translation here):

Stir fried snow peas, shrimp, cashews, and Chinese sausages:

Soup with eggs, tofu, shrimp, and Chinese ham:

Also, Chinese KFC breakfast is very very different from American KFC. They have Guangdong-style congees and xiaolongbao buns:

But I went for a xianbing/馅饼 instead, which is a stuffed and baked flatbread. In this case it was stuffed with grilled tenderloins and onions, and favored with cumin (my favorite):

[thecontainerstoreofficial]

ironed some shirts this morning, got some miscellaneous extra stuff for the apartment (plus blackberries cuz i wanted them lolol) and then i made yummy shrimp & vegetable flatbread and got a birthday present for a friend, and now im taking a breather before i scrub the floors 💆‍♀️

[sickfic-with-kiko]

Worse at Night: Cynonari Sickfic

Tighnari gets poisoned.

(Reposted from my AO3)

Work under the cut:

It’s not often Tighnari comes out into Sumeru city. Preferring the tranquil air of Avidya forest to the bustling atmosphere, his visits to the city are few and far in between. 

But there are exceptions to be made, when he folds his ears and walks through the streets slightly overstimulated. It’s not bad once in a while, he muses. Though by the end of the day, his opinion will certainly have changed. 

“Hey, Tighnari! Over here!” 

Aether and Paimon approach him swiftly once their gazes meet, beckoning him over to Puspa Cafe’s entrance. Tighnari raises a hand as a greeting, following them with a look of relief. 

They secure a table for three, choosing a quiet corner away from any loud groups. The traveller had always been considerate of Tighnari’s sensitivity to noise, which he’s often grateful for. It’s not often he gets to truly enjoy being in the city. 

“We could share a shrimp curry between us,” Aether suggests, pointing to the large portions shown on the menu. “It shouldn’t be too heavy on the spices.” 

Tighnari gives him a thankful smile. “I appreciate the consideration, but I’ve had seafood for the past week. I’m in the mood for some meat.” His ears twitch at the mere thought. 

Aether flips through the menu a little more, deciding on his own main course before choosing some side dishes. “I can get some deep-fried sweet potatoes and chicken rice to share.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll pay for the drinks then.” 

They don’t wait long before the food arrives, piping hot and appetising. Tighnari had ordered some sfiha for himself, while Aether had ended up sharing his curry with Paimon. It’s not long before Paimon begins eyeing up the other portions, long finished her own. 

“What’s that, Tighnari? Is it good?” Paimon asks, flying over to take a peek at his food.

Aether gives her a look, and Paimon huffs. Tighnari’s meal had piqued both her appetite and curiosity. 

“It’s minced lamb on flatbread.” Tighnari explains, taking a large bite out of one. “It’s very good. Why don’t you try it next time?” 

He shivers slightly, noticing the drop in temperature since their arrival. Despite wearing lighter clothing than him, Aether seems unaffected. It must be a byproduct of exploring, he muses. 

“Come on, just one bite!” Paimon begins to bargain with Tighnari, pleading for a mouthful of his food. Aether bites back a sigh as he pulls her back, shoving a sweet potato wedge in her mouth. 

Tighnari lets out a chuckle, feeling another shiver coming on. He almost jolts, the unnerving chill sweeping against his skin. 

Perhaps he’s coming down with something. He slips his jacket back onto himself, taking in the heat between the fabric. 

“Sorry,” Aether chuckles, sipping on the date juice Tighnari had ordered for them. “You might want to eat a little faster, though.” 

Tighnari agrees, bringing up another piece of sfiha to his mouth. 

Before he can take a bite, a violent shudder seizes him. And at the same time, a piercing ache in his gut. 

He freezes, the flatbread slipping from his grasp. The pain is enough to bring intense nausea with it, and he immediately knows he’s not going to make it anywhere. 

Tighnari barely manages to turn to the side before he vomits, the sickness too sudden for him to even gag. Uneven splatters ring in his ears, only just drowned out by the stabbing pain in his lower stomach. 

He can hear Aether calling out his name, and Paimon yelping beside them. He can only grip his stomach through the agonizing pain, bringing up another surge of vomit on top of the spreading puddle. 

“What’s wrong?” Aether is quick by his side, moving their bags away from the mess and laying a hand on his back. “Here, get it up. Don’t worry.” 

There’s something wrong, no doubt. Tighnari knows it’s nothing like a stomach bug or food not sitting well. He barely has time to process the next wave before he’s puking, splattering the front of his clothes. He looks down at his hands, and finds them trembling. 

He’s shuddering against Aether’s hand. He seems to notice it too, pressing a hand onto his forehead. “No fever,” he hears him say, concern-filled. 

The remnants of Tighnari’s lunch are completely out of his system, and his breakfast follows in quick succession. But the nausea doesn’t abate after emptying his stomach. He drools uncontrollably with each dry-heave, bringing up the occasional stream of stomach acid. 

“Tighnari, can you hear me?” Aether is tapping his shoulder with more force, bringing him back from the haze of illness. He can only give him a garbled whimper, throat thick with various liquids. 

Each time he opens his mouth to talk, the pain streaking through his abdomen only worsens. Tighnari cries out with each spike, the pressure of his own hand against his gut too much to bear. 

“We’re taking you to Bimarstan.” 

“Please,” Tighnari murmurs, tears trailing down his face. 

Aether is stern, hoisting him up with surprising strength. He throws a handful of mora onto the table and mutters an apology before exiting the cafe, slinging Tighnari over his shoulder. 

Though the pain is blinding, Tighnari’s mind is clear enough to filter out the causes. The sudden onset of symptoms rule out many viral sicknesses, leaving him with a terrifying possibility.

Poisoning. 

It’s the only explanation he can come up with. The intense urge to throw up is nothing like he’s ever experienced, not even after he’d been too generous on the mushroom sampling portions. Whatever it is, it had to be done with purpose. 

“Someone—someone’s poisoned me,” Tighnari chokes out, ears flattening against his head. The light against his eyes suddenly hurts, burning into his eye sockets. He clenches his eyes shut, bringing up a hand to block out all light. 

“You think they’ve poisoned you,” Aether repeats, holding him steady as they approach the entrance of Bimarstan. “We’re almost there. Just keep the strength in your legs, okay?” 

A nurse immediately recognizes the two of them, ushering them both to an indoor room. While Tighnari appreciates the privacy, he barely makes it to the mattress before all strength leaves him. Aether quickly turns him to his side as he gags. 

“What are the symptoms?” The staff asks, grabbing a wooden basin and some medium-sized towels. She carefully wipes down Tighnari’s skin, examining his eyes and nails. 

Aether moves beside Tighnari, helping him lean over the basin as he hacks up bile. “He’s been vomiting non-stop and shivering,” he explains, brushing away the hair and tears around his face. 

“It’s— ngh— poison,” Tighnari grips the sheets with one hand, the uncontrollable shaking turning closer to convulsions. “It may be something of the bloodgrass variant.” He presses the back of his hand to his eyes, the pain in his head growing worse with each second. 

“We’ll run some tests just in case.” The nurse hastily notes down something in her memo, wincing as a painful retch comes out of Tighnari’s throat. “There should be a toxicologist on duty right now.” 

If Tighnari’s suspicions are correct, vomiting the poison would not be enough. The absorption into the bloodstream would occur quickly, leaving various organs in the body vulnerable. He’s never encountered a case himself, but the treatment had been antidote infusions and pain reduction. He doesn’t recall the survival rate. 

A completely different chill runs down his spine. He could die from this. He could die, not even knowing who did this to him. 

“Aether,” Tighnari reaches out, feeling the traveller’s hand around his own. “Get Cyno. Just—just in case.” 

In case he doesn’t make it through the night. 

“We’ll find him as quick as we can,” Aether assures him, the worry apparent in his voice. 

They leave without saying further, dashing out of the facility and heading back towards the inner city. 

Tighnari is left alone again. He curls further into the blankets, feeling his body shudder against itself. Every wave of pain brings a cold grip of fear with it. 

“We found high concentrations of sterinine in your blood.” 

The toxicologist brings him his test results, confirming the potent poison inside his bloodstream. They’re quick to attach an intravenous infusion into his arm, the needle grazing him a few times as his muscles spasm. 

Tighnari attempts to lay on his side, taking care not to disturb the needle inside him. He feels vulnerable, laid out on the bed to be treated. He vomits onto the towels near his pillow, no longer able to pull the basin towards him. 

“For someone of your age and health, poisonings like this have a high survival rate.” They explain to him, setting down another empty basin and changing the soiled towels. “But due to the large dosage, the recovery process may be painful and long-lasting.” 

“How are the pain levels?” The nurse asks him, prompting him to talk. He groans instead of answering, arms tightly wrapped around his middle. 

Tighnari bites the inside of his cheek, preventing the scream that threatens to escape. “It’s bad,” he almost sobs. “Especially near the navel. I—I really can’t talk—” 

“We’ve administered painkillers and they’ll take effect soon.” They reassure him, rubbing his back in comforting circles. It only makes another tear trickle down his cheek, reminding him that he’s truly alone. “The symptoms will become manageable once you make it through tonight.” 

Tighnari isn’t sure if he’ll make it through the night. 

He tastes blood as he pukes the water he’d been given. He knows it’s not coming from his scraped-up throat, from the way it’s beginning to turn brown. When he does see crimson in the basin, it’s from the burst capillaries in his nose. He’s a mess of excess fluids, sweat and tears sticking to his skin. 

He closes his eyes, attempting to let his exhaustion win. He wakes up with bile gurgling up his throat.

And every single thing his body does to fight against it hurts. There’s a constant cramp stuck in his chest, exacerbated from his stomach wringing itself out. His head hurts, even after shutting out every trace of light. His joints and muscles ache from the constant signals frying his nerves. 

The sky darkens around him, and he notices the near-empty bag of fluids attached to his arm. He shakily reaches for the bell within reach, alerting the staff of his finished infusion. 

“I know it must hurt.” The nurse holds him down as he thrashes, administering the second dose of antidotes. “You’ll feel a little better once it kicks back in, all right?” 

Tighnari becomes increasingly frustrated with the vague promises. He doesn’t want to feel a little better. He wants it all to stop right now. 

He knows that if he were to sob and cry about his pain, one of the nurses would hold his hand and comfort him. He knows they’re taking care of him to the best of their capabilities. But the thorough knowledge of medical care makes nothing better for him, instead isolating him further. 

The hospital is cold, despite the blankets layered onto him. The air is different from the forest, and the silence carries a different weight. He wants nothing more than a shred of familiarity. 

Just as Tighnari closes his eyes, he hears multiple footsteps heading towards him from outside. Though he can’t hear the ensuing conversations, he knows the voices well enough. His eyes widen, amidst the fatigue that chokes him. 

“Tighnari.” 

Cyno marches ahead of Aether, not sparing a moment before throwing the door open. He’s disheveled, without his signature headpiece and a jacket draped over his shoulders. One look at him fills Tighnari’s eyes with tears. 

The traveller and Paimon follow close by, eyes widening at the extent of Tighnari’s pallor. If he had been pale earlier, he’s now nothing short of blanched. 

Tighnari stiffens, coughing up blood-tinted drool into his palm. He hastily wipes it on the towel before either of them can see. 

Sensing Tighnari’s overattentiveness, Cyno steps in front of Tighnari with an extended arm. “Thank you for bringing me here. I can take it from here—rest assured he’s in good hands.” 

Aether nods, knowing the closeness the two share. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.” 

Cyno lets out an affirmative hum, giving minimal attention to the pleasantries before turning back to Tighnari. He places a hand in his hair, and Tighnari immediately knows its warmth. It’s miles different from the methodical touches he’d been subject to. 

“No one’s here except us. You can breathe easy.” 

Cyno dips a cloth in cold water, wiping at the sweat on Tighnari’s forehead. It’s far from pleasant or clean, but Tighnari doesn’t mumble an apology for once. He instead leans into him, the lump in his throat rendering him unable to speak. 

It’s not long before another episode of pain hits him full force. He’s surprised at how loud he yelps, gripping Cyno’s hand through the excruciating sensations. His body betrays him all at once, forcing up another wave of dark blood up his throat. 

Tighnari sees Cyno’s eyes, brimming with barely-concealed anger. But the pained grimace he displays immediately softens them, and Cyno brings the basin closer to him. He spits the dark liquid gathering in his mouth. 

“Cyno,” he manages out, no longer able to hold back the sobs. “It—it really hurts. I’ve been throwing up for hours.” 

He’s immediately pulled into Cyno’s arms, hair brushed aside and tail curling around them both. Though Cyno’s worry shows, he doesn’t show any more fear than Tighnari does. For the first time, Tighnari feels comforted. 

“It hurts everywhere when I seize up.” Tighnari talks through tears, drenching his own face and Cyno’s jacket. “I—I’m not going to die. But it feels too close to it.” 

Cyno hums, his hands focused on making him comfortable. He gently rubs circles into Tighnari’s chest, moving to his stomach when it gurgles painfully. “You’ve endured well,” he presses his lips to Tighnari’s head, drawing the curtains to leave the room untouched by moonlight. 

Tighnari closes his eyes, leaning against Cyno’s chest. It’s not easy to get the sleep he desperately needs—he throws up on Cyno on more than one occasion, waking up mid-choking to sharp slaps on his back. Though he mumbles an apology, Cyno only wipes his mouth and suggests he get the rest he needs. 

It’s almost dawn when Tighnari sleeps for an hour, eyes pried open by yet another stab of pain in his gut. He’s paying the price of surviving a poisoning attempt, something completely unwarranted.

Tighnari lets out a frustrated scream, curling away from everything that touches his skin. “It won’t stop,” he sobs, digging his nails into his palm. “It just keeps happening over and over. I want it to stop hurting so fucking much.” 

His words are shaky as he cries, angry tears trailing down his reddened cheeks. Cyno doesn’t touch him until he falls back into his arms, muffling his cries into his chest. 

“I know. And I’m not going to leave until it stops.” Cyno continues to pat his back, slowing down until he matches his heartbeat. “You’re going to be all right.” 

It comes out with such conviction that Tighnari genuinely believes it. He clings onto Cyno, choked sobs becoming sniffles. He realizes how badly he’d wanted the reassurance, however blind. 

“I just don’t know why they did this,” Tighnari cries, this time not from the pain. “Why did they hurt me like this?” 

It’s a question neither know the answer to. Cyno doesn’t intend to figure it out, nor does he need the answer. What matters is that he’ll soon have blood on his hands, under the name of justice and his own blinding anger.