#frog legs soup part two

[mandoriana]

HEADCANON - HANNIGRAM

We all know that Hannibal is a carnivore, but what few people know is that Hannibal abhors the consumption of red or white meat. He can eat fish, but any other animal meat besides seafood does not consume.

Hannibal hates the pain that animals pass on to humans to have meat to eat.

Hannibal had a sheep when he was a boy and took very good care of it, but one day one of the mansion's employees killed her for them to eat, and Hannibal killed the clerk for revenge.

Will, despite what many think, is a great cook, but not like Hannibal. In fact, Will is more in southern cuisine and comes much more than just fish. Ironically, Will doesn't care about the animals that die for him to have food; he honors all their parts.

Will's favorite meat is frog and alligator. His grandmother used to cook a lot when he was little because they lived in a swamp.

Hannibal dreamed of cooking with Will as they did during the second season, but he was horrified by the cruel way Will cooked. (I imagine a lot that Will came out one day saying that he was going fishing in the lake and came back with a cooler full of frogs. Hannibal was horrified by Will cutting off the frogs' legs while they were still alive.)

Once, Will came home with a living citizen and started bathing and "massaging" the swan and even hydrating its feathers. He was so careful that Hannibal really believed they had a pet city. Imagine his shock when he came back to see Will cooking the case that he had so affectionately called "Leda."

Once, Hannibal bought a pig to be his pet. Her husband ate the poor pig in two weeks.

Hannibal is traumatized to see her husband cooking.

During the escape, they hid in a cabin in the forest for a while. A turtle befriended Hannibal, who fed her leftovers from her meals. When the poor thing got fat enough, Will took the turtle and cooked it alive in a pot. Hannibal is still traumatized today.

Watching Will cooking, for Hannibal, is like watching a horror show.

Hannibal once fainted when he saw Will making food with peanut butter, animal meat remains and vegetable remains (he thought it was their dinner, but it was just the food of the ces.)

When Hannibal's complaints about his cooking get very annoying, Will begins to make atrocities in cooking, such as using canned meat and mixing it with peanut butter. Hannibal almost has an aneurysm every time.

Chiyoh was prejudiced against Will's food until she ate it and loved it. So the two stood against Hannibal about human flesh being tastier than animal flesh.

At Christmas, Will gave Hannibal a T-shirt that said, "Eat people, save animals."

The only meat Will wouldn't be willing to eat is dog meat and maybe cat meat, but he's not against eating the feline if he's hungry.

Will and Hannibal love recipes that contain eels. Will prefers to cook them while they are still alive, but Hannibal prefers to cook them only when they are dead.

Will thinks it's hypocritical for Hannibal not to have a problem with human violence, and Hannibal thinks it's Will's hypocritical not to have a problem with animal violence. (Will's excuse is that only a few animals are not food, while Hannibal's excuse is that comparing human pigs with sweet animals is blasphemy.)

When they watch "Chicken Run," Hannibal twists for the chickens from start to finish, while Will supports the "villain" who is just doing his job. They had an argument after watching the movie.

Will just doesn't eat stones because stone soup is bad and there are no other ways to eat stones.

Will cuts ingredients with scissors, and that makes Hannibal freak out every time.

During their escape from the FBI they hid in the woods and Hannibal is sure he once saw Will frying a snake.

Hannibal likes to eat raw ginger, and Will calls him a psychopath for it.

Will makes a cup of coffee with seven tablespoons of coffee grounds, while Hannibal makes a bottle with four tablespoons of coffee grounds. Whenever one wakes up before the other and makes coffee, one of them ends up making faces for the drink.

[asunsetgrace16]

☾ ◇ ｊｅｎｎａ ｍａｄｄｅｎ ‣ 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒻𝒾𝓁𝑒

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[𝟶𝟷] ___ 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

Name(s): Jenna Amber Madden

Nickname(s): Jen, Jennie, Jens

Age: 19

Birthday: September 5, 2005

Birthplace: Rosetown, Saskatchewan

Allergies: rabbits, dust, and pollen

Conditions/Illnesses: none

Occupation: works at Sephora part-time, will be a Chemical engineer after university

Education: high school diploma, half-done her BSc of Physics

Current Residence: Saskatoon, Saskatchewan

Hobbies: sudoku puzzles, crosswords, playing guitar and piano

Pets: Lily - German Shephard/Husky cross, several barn cats; Momo and Juice are the deck/house cats

Sports: volleyball in high school, plays in a rec league now, running

Ethnicity: German, Ukrainian, British

Nationality: Canadian

[𝟶𝟸]  ___  𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴

Height: 5'5

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

Birthmarks: none

Scars: one on her ankle from when she broke it two years ago and had surgery to fix it

Tattoos: none

Style: country, jeans and boots with cute sweaters, leggings with old Carhartt hoodies, oversized shirts from her brothers (and Fraser), both gold and silver jewelry

Piercings/Accessories: simple ear lobe piercings, one helix, always wears the ring her grandma gave her

[𝟶𝟹]  ___  𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

Introvert or Extrovert: both and it depends on where she is, how much sleep she got, and who she's around

Mood/Temper: she is intense and driven, always looking for a challenge. She loves her siblings (now that they are older), and will go to bat for any of them. She's also very stubborn.

Dreams/Goals: travel, road trip across Canada, run in the Boston Marathon

Strengths: her work ethic, she's always prepared for anything

Weaknesses: she calls it being realistic, Andrew calls it pessimism

Quirks: usually leaves the house with her shoes untied, mixes up the different-coloured pen caps

Habits: stands and watches the horizon/clouds/weather like a middle-aged dad and/or every farmer ever

Fears: heights, balloons

[𝟶𝟺]  ___  𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝚂 & 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝚂

Likes: being outside, frogs, sunsets, meals in the field, horseback riding, running

Dislikes: mosquitoes, ranch dressing, writing essays, early mornings

[𝟶𝟻] ___ 𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲

[𝟶𝟼] ___ 𝙵𝚄𝙽 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂

[𝟶𝟽] ___ 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂

Food: chicken noodle soup

Music: country. classic rock

Songs: Blown Away by Carrie Underwood. Getting There by Terri Clark. Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift. Strong by One Direction.

Movies: The Other Woman. Ocean's 8. Talledaga Nights.

Shows: Suits. Manifest. Brooklyn 99.

Colour: purple

Place: Vancouver Island, BC

[𝟶𝟾] ___ 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈 & 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂

Family: Jenna is the middle child, a twin to John. She has two older brothers and two younger sisters

Mom: Anna Madden (nee Travis), b. december 18, 1968

Dad: Josh Madden, b. march 24, 1963

Sibling(s): Brothers - Liam, Andrew, and John, Sisters - Melissa and Charlotte

➪ Liam Madden: b. november 2, 2000. engaged to fiancee Cara. works in crop technology and will keep helping to farm.

➪ Andrew Madden: b. june 21, 2001. single. recently graduated from U of S with a degree in Agribusiness and will take over the main farm.

➪ John Madden: b. september 5, 2004. gay. dating boyfriend Luke. attending UBC and getting a degree in Mathematical Sciences.

➪ Melissa (Lis) Madden: b. june 18, 2006. bisexual. single. just graduated high school and is attending U of S to become a vet.

➪ Charlotte (Charlie) Madden: b. may 5, 2009. single. starting high school. an excellent hockey player who has been offered scholarships in the States.

Relationship Status: almost taken. Fraser Minten (october 2024)

Past Relationships: Jenna was in two relationships prior to getting with Fraser

➪ Luke: (July 2020 - June 2022) he was her high school relationship. they were together for two years before going their separate ways after graduating. it was a mutual decision as their life plans were taking them in different directions.

➪ Sam: (December 2022 - March 2023) he was a fun relationship. he was a known party boy and wasn't looking for serious which was good with Jenna. they had fun but ultimately decided they were better off as friends.

[blogofloathing]

Parts 1 of 1, Gillian B And The Unruly Interviewee

After a less than polished bus ride we arrived to the equally less than polished slums of Porkham,

I'd say it looked better in my day, except I wouldn't know, I grew up in a more respectable area.

Adjusting my trusty driving cap, spiffy bow tie, and affirming these good looks with my crew.

we set off, according to my media guy fishing is popular this time of year, so why not cash in?

Being careful to avoid nails and trash (human or otherwise) on our meandering way to the bridge,

wherein todays interviewee was apparently living.

In my opinion he should just get a job and maybe contribute to society? But that's not "kind" or "empathetic" according to my trusty cameramen.

Stepping into the clearing we see exactly what I had feared, I was hoping we had bad intel.

Yet lo and behold, a stubble ridden homeless sat adjacent to us, probably high out of his mind.

"Mm.. oh! Hey! Yall are here for the interview?" He shouted over to us, well, to say he raised his voice would be a lie, but that was certainly the intent.

Our cameras focused shakily on the dirty hobo we have unfortunately decided to question today.

My mic man stood just a bit too close, so that every word spoken slightly blasted the audio.

I'm sure someone can make it sound good later,

"we are go in 3, 2.." holding up one finger for the last call, before miming an inaudible "go".

And giving our cameras the signal to proceed, they ask him the first of many questions.

"Mm'well when you're fishing in sketchy spots ya gotta specialize" he mumbled, gesturing to the tackle box, though it's more of a tackle lunch box

The camera zooms in as he pulls out a wriggling gummy worm, sugar dusting its exterior.

Christ how on earth is that thing moving, "mm them gummy worms grow near rivers"

"Makes em self supplyin" he walks us through, as our whole team takes a step or two back.

"Mm I think somea them barbecue fellas put somethin in the water over there.."

Glancing over to the stream, which looked more like a pot of soup full of garbage than a river.

Maybe interviewing this gross hobo was a mistake. Certainly I'll be taking a bath after this,

But for the sake of journalism, we let him go on

"Makes so they're good for catchin them colorful fishies, f'miliar sight for em" indeed the worm was bedazzled in a rainbow of striped colors

Enough to make my head hurt just looking at it.

Though none of my crew has ever heard of any kinda rainbow fish, probably some new drug the homeless are taking, and we wonder why the city is trying to stamp out these kinds of people!

"Mm'infact I got onea them on my line right now,"

our cameraman panning quickly over to the hobos fishing pole, propped up against some rocks.

The line was limp for the time being, that is to say if it would ever actually be pulled by something other than garbage, (excluding the man himself.)

Christ thank god we're not live right now, we can have whatever-his-name-is edit that out later

"Mm, oh! An' here's some more from my stash" he pipes up with subdued surprise, a fuzzy worm covered in spines was crawling up his arm, "they're s'posed to be poisonous but I f'gure you let em do what they do, they go fine"

"These are good for catchin them walkin fishies, mm'paralyzes their muscles," he explained, flexing his fingers loosely before constricting them tightly

Then sighing with a noticeably disappointed tone, "people are way too hesitant 'bout fish legs, I tell em they're just like frog legs, but I guess they don't much like those neither.."

Personally I can't see a world where I or anyone on my team eats that, but of course let's remember they're not like you and me.

"ahh here's one'a my favorites," he grunts, pulling out a large bag full of sickly bright red worms.

"Onea them groups of chemical guys dyed some kids hair in the river and plumb contaminated this whole bag," shaking them in our face

And sure enough there could be faint spots of pink vaguely seen under the thick scarlet glaze.

"Mm'but whatever's in em makes the fishies go all crazy," he explains, shaking his hands wildly in the air to demonstrate this apparent frenzy.

"They dye your tongue red for a good while when ya eat em though, mm'sooo if that ain't your style I can't sell ya on em" placing it back down where it immediately stained the ground scarlet.

I'm forced at this point to give my team a glare of disapproval, some of them seeming far too genuinely interested in what this hobo had to say.

They look sheepish for a moment at my face, but then continue looking past me at him.

Really I don't see what use there is in listening to stuff like this, I'm only here for content.

"Mm'I don't know how I hook thesen's but I do an' they fetch pretty good" he mumbles tacitly.

Holding up what appeared to be a pile of loose integers in vaguely the shape of a squiggly line.

Wriggling and moving in a way that didn't account for any sort of connections or reason.

My whole team taken aback at once says "what on earth??" quietly in united confusion. Before then looking at each other in mirrored disbelief.

despite having no possible way to crawl the way it does, making a gentle journey along his arm.

Coming to a rest at his shoulder where he picks it up, somehow, "mm'I expect this's due to runoff from the math guys dumpin their old equations in the water" expecting us to understand any of that.

"But them educated fishies really love em, maybe they're tryna solve em or somethin" he says with a reverent little chuckle, though it's more of a cough.

The unsightly man continues excitedly showing us various worms, giving exaggerated and showy gestures for each presentation.

As if his hands are the actual ones being asked.

"Don't even get me started on them spider worms! Haha, mm'just kiddin, please do"

I'm positively sick with boredom but I have been forced by my team not to leave.

Until thankfully, salvation arrives at last when he appears to reach the end of his last show & tell.

Putting various worms(?) Back into containers, and a quick check to the continuously light line.

"Well thank yall kindly for- Vic! Vic get on over here I'm gonna be on the television!" He shouted suddenly, eyeing an unseen figure behind us.

My heart sank sickeningly, he was right about to bid us a good day, we were so damn close! And..

A possibly even dustier hobo, girl? Waltzes over to us, Jesus Christ it just keeps getting worse.

"Yo! Walt! You're famous eh? Gettin the big bucks?" the two laugh heartily, "see I told ya you're fishin would take off you old sot" she teased loudly.

They chit chat for a beat, with me continuing to shuffle backwards, much to my crews chagrin.

I'm silently begging my cameras to let me leave with my wallet intact before it catches sight of me

The urgent tugs at my boom operators sleeve going unnoticed save for a bemused look.

"Hey! Wanna ask me some stuff! Give me some free stuff?" She bursts into my world unwelcome.

Seemingly moved on from the dirty man, onto me.

For a moment I try to pretend as if not having noticed her, but fate did not hold the cards for me.

"Cmonnnn I know you're one of them big shots you got cash" her bushy eyebrows turned at an almost impossible angle, no wonder she looked mannish.

Signing didn't seem to work, as expected with the uneducated, but even my perfectly clear refusal to answer was left disregarded by this girl.

"Psh, figures you uppercrusts think you're too good to talk to me" she sneered derisively.

I tentatively waved to one of my crewman, whom seemed wholly preoccupied with the fisherman,

The shows over! What is there to talk about? My pleas yielded no results, I was fully on my own.

"What's with ya? You talk?" Her intense eyes bore holes into my own, attempting to take a look behind them in a quite uninvited intrusion.

Ugh these types are always so pushy, I swear I don't know why I agreed to do this.

As she pressed her face more closely to mine I could feel her gross, warm breath

Like the smog of a smokestack, clinging to my skin and hair in a sickeningly sticky way

"Hellooooo is anybody home Mr Rich?" Her words poked, knocking the glass of a terrarium to make me dance, managing only to startle me further

My discomfort is reaching its peak and I'm nearly made to give the emergency sign to my crew,

When the hobo girl reaches her hand out to touch me again, my skin prickling in irid anticipation.

And Inexplicable even to myself, a tear sparkled dully in my eyes, which were presently pressed together, as if I'd disappear if I couldn't see her.

This would surely be the end of my career, she would know.. I could feel everyone's eyes on me

And indeed the look on her face told me the gears were turning, some remnant of social awareness ticked around echoey in her hollow dome.

Gillian Barlows A Sissy surely what the headline would read, they'd be right, and that would be it.

These newspaper ghosts flapped hauntingly in my head like a flock of my worst anxieties.

Of circling vultures primed to take a strike at me any moment, the wilting journey of my egos end.

Before my cameraman, who must have finally noticed my situation, stepped between us.

Reforming the barrier I had been trying to keep hold of, that this girl had ripped it up.

"I'm sorry ma'am but you're gonna have to step back" a stern but not unkind order, his voice soothingly final, as if he was just stating the facts.

Equally putting to rest my growing discontent, "eh? Awww cmon you interviewed Wal-" she started, wildly gesturing In the other hobos direction.

"Ma'am we have a very concise schedule, and please refrain from touching our host." He retorted firmly, the rest of my crew standing nearby as well.

His hand nested on my shoulder as he said it

The lot of them were towers of men, acting as body guard and camera crew in unison

Pillars of my kingdom who kept the gates guarded

Standing (in no uncertain terms) a harsh contrast to my otherwise quite stubby figure.

We shared a quick look, his half smirk telling me don't worry, I've got you, as he continued the contentious chat with this random girl.

"Well- ugh fine! Take your chintzy camera cats somewhere else!" She expleted, giving our cameras a rude hand gesture before storming off.

"I'm too good for your lil TV shit anyway, hacks!"

Kicking a can into the lake that had been in her way, though I didn't hear the sound it made.

My ears were still plugged shut by the awful dripping fear that enveloped me at the ordeal,

I couldn't let someone see me like that, least of all someone like her, this was a mistake.

Breathing growing heavier, and knees weaker, the weight of this pressure primed to knock me over.

This is stupid, getting so worked up over someone like her, but despite all principles, the gnawing feeling in my gut was unwilling to accept reality.

I felt floaty and tingly, like I was on the brink of a faint, of losing my balance completely and falling..

Right into the strong arms of my cameraman, who had already set the camera down a ways away.

"Were you still rolling? Did you get it?" I whispered in a strained voice, almost inaudibly.

He shushed me, carrying me over to the rest of my crew, setting me down easy next to them.

I felt so comfortable being held by him, like he always knew exactly where he was going.

"Hey boss! We's were talking to the fisherman, and he gave us some fish on the house!"

My mic operator excitedly informed me, holding up a shockingly good looking salmon.

The man had been teaching us how to identify a real good salmon and well, there it is

Its tail fins were pronounced without being floppy, and the scales shone like glass or crystal.

My expression evidently spoke volumes how did he catch that "guess he had some right ideas"

Smirked my mic man, inviting an exaggerated eye roll from me, though I couldn't help but agree.

"Anywho! Let's get a move on Gill!" he sprang matter o factly, also springing me onto my feet.

"here G" my other cameraman said, his chill demeanor contrasting so that it made me giggle.

Waving to the whole crew, who all took me up into their arms in turn, lifting me almost effortlessly.

Linking together to create a proper seat for me to rest in, even if I did feel a little silly.

A mobile throne of sorts, to lead the charge.

"What say we all go for drinks?" My mic man suggested, looking around at the rest of us.

Who all nodded in approval "then let us go!" My cameraman said resolutely,

I signed a clumsy "but what about the interview?"

"we can edit the footage later" he spoke directly to me "let's go have some fun"

These affirmations, bringing back to life a smile, informing my unending confidence around them.

I didn't say anything, but I pointed forward in a mock gesture of commencement.

Each member of my crew pointing in turn, as I lead the group, captain at the helm.

Maybe they were right, I could use a bit of a wind down more often to cool the nerves.

As long as it means more time spent with these idiots, I could see.. some time off.

"To TV! To Drinks! To Gillian!!" The whole gaggle chanted, yelling my name with especial vigor.

[airplanned]

Acts of Service

One Piece live action fic! 2,000 words. E for everyone. Maybe part of a series if another one pops fully formed into my head.

Summary: Zoro can be a nice guy and an asshole at the same time. (Friends and frenemies on a boat!)

Well, we knew this was coming. I have the day off today, so I had some time.

---

1. Nami

The waiter was trying to figure out everyone's favorite foods in order to ingratiate himself into the crew, which was pretty pathetic.  He incorrectly thought he was being subtle.

Usopp was easy.  The conversation went something like this:

Waiter: I can make you something special if you like.  Whatever you want.  Just name it.

Usopp:  Anything?  Well...Actually...Nah, don't worry about it.  Unless you can make Tapalapa.

Of course he could make tapalapa.

The waiter's eyes had lit with a kind of evil victory, and that night there was a kind of long bread that they were supposed to eat with fancy ass eggs, which Usopp declared both "the best he'd ever had" and "way fancier than his mom made."

Two days later, they had the bread again, but this time with beans and no little green mess to decorate the edges of their plates.  Usopp had moaned through the whole meal, not even realizing that he had been defeated.  

The waiter didn't stop grinning, his eyes all crinkled at the corners.

Luffy was harder, because anything the waiter made, Luffy would announce, "This is great!"  When the waiter straight up asked what his favorite meal was, Luffy listed off six meals in detail, none of which had anything in common except they all had meat of some sort.  He would have kept going except a sea monster showed up, and the sea monster was somehow on fire, and he had gotten distracted. 

He tried to smile through it, but clearly the waiter was dying on the inside.

Which amused Zoro to no end.  Luffy was the best.

Zoro and Nami were even harder, because they knew what was going on and refused to participate.

"Anything special you want for dinner?"  "No."

"I'm going on a supply run.  Anything I can get for you while I'm in town?"  "Nah.  I'm good."

"Fruit? Veggies? Pastry? Noodles?"  "Whatever."

When asking got him nowhere, he started just handing them random things to see if he could get a reaction.  Little things in tiny bowls that were less than two bites for Nami and one big inhale for Zoro.  It was a burst of flavor in his mouth, always good, but if Zoro had any food preferences, it was that there be a lot of it, so already he was off to a bad start.  Ice cream on a banana slice with chocolate sauce.  Thick soup in a shot glass.  A date wrapped in bacon.  Half a deviled egg with Nami getting the other half.  A fried dumpling filled with crab meat.  A spoon with sea urchin and roe.  Yellowfin nigiri.

That one was hard, because Zoro really liked yellowfin.  But he chomped it down, gave a distracted nod, and handed back his plate just as he always did.

With Zoro, it just annoyed the waiter, because Zoro was a petty asshole and annoying him was the point.  With Nami Sanji was eventually going to have an aneurysm, because he desperately wanted Nami to like him.  Which was funny because he would surely grow on her if he just calmed the fuck down.  She was soft in the middle like that.

"Why would you not want the food you like?" Luffy whispered in confusion. He sat like a frog with his knees up around his ears.

Zoro shrugged, still looking out at the sea.

Luffy shook his head. "Seems stupid."

Luffy didn't get it.

They'd been in port for a day when Nami kicked at Zoro's leg where he’d made himself comfortable on the deck with his back to the mast.  “Hey.  Let’s go.”

He lifted an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t move.  “Go where?”

“A bar.  And you’re coming with me.”

“You running a con?”

She gave him a smile with a plan bit between her teeth.  "I need someone with a select skill set."

"I'll come!" Usopp shouted.

"You don't look intimidating enough," she shouted back.

"Ah.  Yeah.  That's fair."

"I can go!" the waiter called.

She looked up at him and gave him a consoling smile (see, already she was starting to thaw).  "I need someone who can pretend they don't know me."

"Oh," Luffy said, slumping over the railing. "That doesn't sound fun."

She turned back to Zoro.  "I'm buying."

That got him up.

He'd have gone with her anyway.

"Get me a donut from the place!" Luffy shouted.  "Two donuts.  Maybe half a dozen."

Zoro waved over his shoulder in acknowledgement.  A dozen donuts it is.

They walked into town mostly in silence, Zoro with one hand casually on a sword hilt.  It wasn't a big enough town for Nami to be causing trouble.  It wasn't a big enough town for there be much trouble to get into.

"You gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to guess?"

"What's going on," she said, her smile turning bright, "is I am going drinking with my friend."

"Yeah right."

"Believe me or not, I don't care," she said, hefting open the heavy bar door and nudging him inside.

Zoro sat sideways at the bar to keep an eye on things while Nami leaned forward on both elbows and ordered.  Beer for him, rum and coke for her.

When their drinks came, she threw it back for a big swig, set down with a clunk, and said, "So I'm homesick."

"What?"  Oh.  They were drinking.

"I know.  It's not something I've experienced before, so you're going to hang out with me until it passes."

"You've been homesick," he said into his beer.  "I've seen you homesick."

"That's it though!  This is different.  Before it was...longing.  I wished for the place that used to be there.  For the people who used to love me.  I knew it didn't exist.  It was a fantasy.  I hoped that one day, after I set everything right, it would be true again, but even then, I...I don't know if I ever believed it. 

"But now...Now there are people out there who care about me.  I could turn around and go back to them.  And...I miss them.  As they are and not as I wish they would be.  Does--I don't know--does that make sense?"

He grimaced.  It made sense, he guessed.  Not that he had any personal experience.  It made sense she would miss a place that liked her more than she would miss a place that hated her.  What didn't make sense was "Why'd you want to tell me about this?  I don't do--"  He used his beer to gesture at whatever emotions she was having.

"Because we're friends, you idiot.  And you're the only one who will listen without trying to solve it.  I don't need anyone to fix me, I need someone to sit there while I whine and then say something rude to cheer me up."

She was right: if she wanted that, she didn't have other options.

"Gah!  And you know what the worst part is?  More than anything right now, do you know what I want?"  She leaned in as if it were a secret and someone might overhear.  "A Coco Village tangerine tartlet."

He snorted and didn't bother trying to hold back a smirk.  "There's a real easy way to make that happen."

"I'd rather stick my hand in boiling water than give him the satisfaction."  She threw back the rest of her drink.

And see?  This was why he liked Nami.

#

"Hey, waiter, I got a request."

Sanji blinked at him once before excitement rippled over him, lighting his eyes, pulling him taller.  He was so genuinely happy that the smugness wasn't as bad as usual.  "Oh?  You have a request?"

"Yeah.  You want to write it down on your little waiter note pad?"

Sanji smiled at him.  Indulgent.  Like Zoro was cute and Sanji was winning.

Fuck, he hated this guy.

"The last island had tiny pies with orange filling."

"Tiny pies?  Like...hand pies?"

"A pie.  But small."

A moment to process, and Sanji's smile blossomed like this was the best day of his life.  "Do...you mean...a tartlet?"

His glee set off all Zoro's hackles.  There was no way he was saying the word tartlet.  "I mean a tiny pie.  Put some tangerine crud in there--"

"Tangerine curd?" Sanji looked fucking delighted.

"--Some whipped cream and sunflower seeds on top."

His face fell into confusion.  "Sunflower seeds?"

"On the top."

"..."

"Makes it look like a flower."

"..."

"You take them out of the shell first, dumbass."

Sanji took a breath, like he was going to argue but couldn't find the words, and then just froze there, too confused and disgusted to move.

Oh, he broke the waiter.

"You can't make it?"

That snapped him out of it.  "What?  Of course I can make it!  I'm not sure I should tho.  It sounds like an abomination."

"Fine," Zoro said, already turning away.  "Don't make it."

He went out to sit on the deck, and predictably, a few hours later the waiter came out carrying a tiny pie on a plate.  He was back to being a delighted asshole as he tucked one arm at the small of his back and bowed low to get eye level with Zoro.  "Your tangerine tartlet, sir, with citrus infused whipped cream and sunflower seeds.  As requested."

The filling was bright orange, the surface shining in the sun, like it would crack when a spoon went through it.  A spiral of sunflower seeds interrupted the shine in a way that actually looked a whole lot like the center of a sunflower.  It would have been impressive, if Zoro were in the mood to be impressed.

"Cool," he said, and took the plate without taking any bait.

He then waited for Sanji to leave.

Which he didn't.  He just stood there and grinned.

"You gonna watch me eat?"

"I want to see the look on your face."

Zoro set the plate down, and Sanji's face fell.

"Come on!  You can't not eat it!"

"Don't look at me, weirdo."

"I want to know if you like it!"

"It's fine."

Sanji threw his hands in frustration.  "You haven't tried it!"

Zoro got up, bringing his plate with him, and muttered "Fuck off," as he headed inside.

"Are you kidding me?!" Sanji shouted after him.  "You childish asshole!  See if I ever do anything for you again!"

It was the most empty threat Zoro had ever heard.

He knocked and let himself into Nami's room.

She was bent low over a map with her glasses on, a pucker between her eyebrows that told him she might not even realize he was there.  The plate bumped her arm after he slid it across the table, and only then did she look away from her work.  Her eyes widened, then snapped up to him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his grin smug and vicious in a way that reminded people why he was called the demon.

"You asked him!" she accused.

"I didn't say it was for you."

"Are you kidding?  He's going to know it's for me.  What, he's going to think it's for you?"

"He's not real smart."

She muttered, "He's not the only one," but she pulled the plate closer, giving it a good inspection.

He wanted to tell her how much Sanji bitched about the sunflower seeds, how much Zoro had had to put up with to get this thing.  But the barely there softening of her face, the curiosity and familiarity that sparked in her eyes stopped him.

She took up the spoon and took a bite.  A warmth spread across Nami's face, her shoulders relaxing with a sigh, one of the most genuine smiles he'd ever seen pulling at her cheeks.

"Thanks, Zoro."

He jerked his chin to show he heard her, and she scoffed as she took another bite of her tiny pie.

[lisakarlovsky]

Top Ten Odd Foods

Top Ten Strangest Foods From Around the World

They say one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. The same could be said about food: one man’s nightmare may just be another man’s delicacy. From cow’s tongue and pig’s snout to chicken’s feet, from fried worms and frog’s legs to sautéed snails, the list of weird stuff we eat is endless (and often quite tasty). If you’ve been indulging lately and need a reason to diet, take a read, you may just lose that appetite. Here is the list of the ten strangest foods from around the world.

10. Fried – brain sandwiches

Long before the era of Mad-Cow Disease, a sandwich made from fried calves’ brain, thinly sliced on white bread was a common item on the menus in St. Louis, Missouri, USA. The sandwich is still available in the Ohio River Valley, where the brains are now heavily battered and served on hamburger buns. In El Salvador and Mexico beef brains, lovingly called sesos in Spanish, are used in tacos and burritos. The brains have a mushy texture and very little flavor on their own so the addition of copious amounts of hot sauce definitely helps.

9. Haggis

A traditional Scottish dish, haggis is made with the minced heart, liver and lung of a sheep mixed with onion, spices, oatmeal, salt and stock, and boiled in the sheep’s stomach for a few hours. Larousse Gastronomique, a popular encyclopedia of gastronomic delights, claims that haggis has “an excellent nutty texture and delicious savory flavor.” Haggis is available year-round in Scottish supermarkets and made with an artificial casing rather than a sheep’s stomach. In fact some are sold in cans to be heated in a microwave before eating. Similar dishes can be found in other European countries with goat, pork or beef used instead of sheep.

8. Bugs

The practice of eating insects for food is called entomophagy and is fairly common in many parts of the world, with the exceptions of Europe and North America (though bugs are apparently a favorite with the television show “Fear Factor”). It is not uncommon to find vendors selling fried grasshoppers, crickets, scorpions, spiders and worms on the streets of Bangkok, Thailand. Insects are high in protein and apparently consist of important fatty acids and vitamins. In fact flour from drying and grinding up mealworm can be and is often used to make chocolate chip cookies. So next time you think there is a fly in your soup, it may actually just be part of the presentation.

7. Rocky Mountain Oysters

What is so strange about oysters? Probably the fact that they’re not the kind you find at the bottom of the ocean, but rather a fancy name given to deep-fried testicles of a buffalo, bull or boar. Rocky Mountain oysters (also called Prairie Oysters) are well-known and regularly enjoyed, in certain parts of the United States and Canada, generally where cattle ranching is prevalent. The testicles are peeled, boiled, rolled in a flour mixture, and fried, then generally served with a nice cocktail sauce.

6. Stuffed Camel

The recipe for a whole stuffed camel kind of reads like a bad joke, with ingredients that include one whole camel, one whole lamb and 20 whole chickens. The Guinness Book of World Records lists the recipe as the largest item on any menu in the world, conveniently leaving out any concrete examples of this dish actually being eaten. Legend has it that that a whole stuffed camel is a traditional Bedouin dish seemingly prepared like a Russian Stacking Doll, where a camel is stuffed with a whole lamb, the lamb stuffed with the chickens and the chickens stuffed with eggs and rice. The entire concoction is then barbecued until cooked and served. Fact or fiction, the shear amount of food created by this dish makes it deserving of a place on the list.

5. Hakarl

Anthony Bourdain, known for eating some of the strangest foods in the world, claims that hakarl is the most disgusting thing he has ever eaten. Made by gutting a Greenland or Basking shark and then fermenting it for two to four months, hakarl is an Icelandic food that reeks with the smell of ammonia. It is available all year round in Icelandic stores and often served in cubes on toothpicks.

4. Fugu

Fugu is the Japanese word for the poisonous puffer fish, filled with enough of the poison tetrodotoxin to be lethal. Only specially-trained chefs, who undergo two to three years of training and have passed an official test, can prepare the fish. Some chefs will choose to leave a minute amount of poison in the fish to cause a tingling sensation on the tongue and lips as fugu can be quite bland. Perhaps the fuss of fugu is more in surviving the experience than the actual taste of the deadly fish.

3. Casu Marzu

Found in the city of Sardinia in Italy, casu marzu is a cheese that is home to live insect larvae. These larvae are deliberately added to the cheese to promote a level of fermentation that is close to decomposition, at which point the cheese’s fats are broken down. The tiny, translucent worms can jump up to half a foot if disturbed, which explains why some people prefer to brush off the insects before enjoying a spoonful of the pungent cheese.

2. Sannakji

With sashimi and sushi readily available the world over, eating raw seafood is no longer considered a dining adventure. The Korean delicacy sannakji however, is something quite different, as the seafood isn’t quite dead. Live baby octopus are sliced up and seasoned with sesame oil. The tentacles are still squirming when this dish is served and, if not chewed carefully, the tiny suction cups can stick to the mouth and throat. This is not a dish for the fainthearted.

1. Balut

Balut seems to be on every “strange food” list, usually at the top, and for good reason. Though no longer wriggling on the plate like the live octopus in Korea, the fertilized duck or chicken egg with a nearly-developed embryo that is boiled and eaten in the shell is easily one of the strangest foods in the world. Balut is very common in the Philippines, Cambodia and Vietnam and usually sold by street vendors. It is said balut tastes like egg and duck (or chicken), which is essentially what it is. It is surprising to many that a food that appears so bizarre—often the with the bird’s features clearly developed–can taste so banal. In the end, apparently everything does indeed, just taste like chicken. Lisa Karlovsky thought you would enjoy this article.

[ryanbluestone]

Savoring the Art of French Cuisine: Ryan Hunter Bluestone on 5 of Chicago’s Top French Restaurants

French cuisine, celebrated for its sophistication and flavors, has found a cozy home in the heart of Chicago. In this post, Ryan Hunter Bluestone embarks on a culinary journey to uncover some of the best French restaurants in the city, exploring their origins, culinary specialties, founders, and the reasons behind their acclaim.

Bistronomic Bistronomic, established in 2011 by acclaimed Chef Martial Noguier, is a cozy, contemporary French bistro located in the Gold Coast. The menu is a delightful blend of classic French dishes with a modern twist, such as the beloved Coq au Vin and Braised Lamb Shank. Don’t miss the Escargot and consider one of their Dinners for Two. Brunch is quite good as well - bottomless mimosas! Bistronomic is celebrated for its commitment to sustainability and its dedication to delivering French gastronomy with a fresh, farm-to-table approach.

Le Bouchon Le Bouchon, a charming Bucktown gem, opened its doors in 1993, bringing everything we love about a Parisian bistro to Chicago. The menu is a celebration of hearty French comfort food, including favorites like mouthwatering French Onion Soup, Foie Gras, but a trip to Le Bouchon is an opportunity to order outside your comfort zone. Try the Salad Lyonnaise, Seared Frog Legs, or Roasted Pekin Duck if you are up for something new and delicious. Ryan Bluestone notes that Le Bouchon is renowned for its cozy, timeless ambiance, where diners can savor the authentic flavors of France in an intimate setting.

Chez Joel Chez Joel, another beloved French restaurant established in 1993, is the brainchild of Chef Joel Kazouini. Located in Little Italy, this charming eatery offers some of the best Mussels I’ve ever eaten and classic French dishes such as Duck Confit and Beef Bourguignon. If you happen to visit during one of our few good weather months, sit outside on the patio if possible. The ambience is really something special. Chef Joel's commitment to preserving the traditions of French cuisine in the heart of Chicago makes this one a must try.

Le Colonial Le Colonial, founded in 1996, transports diners to the bygone era of 1920s Saigon with its elegant French-Vietnamese fusion cuisine. The city location is a beautiful spot on Oak Street in the Gold Coast and the pricing is as you’d expect in this neighborhood! The menu features delicacies like Goi Cuon and Bo Luc Lac and our guests raved about the Pho and Dumplings. Le Colonial is truly famous for its stunning décor, which replicates the ambiance of a French colonial villa, creating an exotic and luxurious dining experience unlike pretty much any place we’ve been in Chicago.

Mon Ami Gabi Mon Ami Gabi, part of the Lettuce Entertain You restaurant group, opened its doors in 1998 as a charming French bistro in Lincoln Park. Ryan Hunter Bluestone believes this is one of the most reliably wonderful French meals the city of Chicago has to offer. The bread is worth an entire post on its own, and it just gets better from there. The menu offers the classic French dishes you’d expect along with a broad offering of delicious steaks and fish. On top of the incredible food, Mon Ami Gabi’s welcoming ambiance, impeccable service, and extensive wine list have made this spot a destination for so many celebrations.

In Conclusion

Chicago's French restaurants are more than just great places to dine; they are gateways to the rich culinary heritage of France. Whether you're enjoying the modern twists at Bistronomic or the timeless classics at Le Bouchon, each restaurant on this list offers a unique taste of France. These establishments celebrate the art of French cuisine, where every dish is a masterpiece and every meal is an opportunity to savor the flavors of France in the heart of the Windy City. For more information on the Chicago food scene from Ryan Hunter Bluestone, check out the Chicago Taste Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/chicago.taste/

[ellaofoakhill]

Frog Legs Soup, Part Two

Author’s Note: Chapter 2 is now up on Tumblr and Wattpad!

Meline was packed before a hundred stars were out. She locked her door with her fairy key, and went to say farewell. The tadpoles cried to see her go, and Evelyn told her to be

careful. Meline pledged to be, and Vedris even offered her his sabre. Meline was touched—she knew the story of his sword—but declined. She knew no swordplay, after all.

And then she was off.

The moon was waxed half, and the stars were bright. The south wind softly hushed, hardly enough to rustle the grass.

Meline rarely traveled toward the house. Usually she roved through the wild potentillas and dogwoods for herbs and pebbles; once a fortnight she’d travel to Oak and Stone for rare goods.

The ground dipped away from the berms surrounding the pond, and then steadily rose. When she climbed to the top of a potentilla, Meline could see the yard in the distance, surrounded by maple and pine. In the distance between, the ground fell and rose and fell again, until it met the trees. To her right were the oaks and cairns, to her left the brush and poplar wood. Between her and the yard were many fairy lights.

“I’d just as soon travel quickly tonight,” she said to herself, “rather than get bogged down in one talk after another.” She dropped from the potentilla. When her feet touched the ground she drew up her deep-black mantle. Less visible than a shadow’s shadow, she held up her staff, and spoke a word of power. The emerald glowed, and Meline felt the earth beneath her feet shift. She took a step, and the earth pushed against her foot, stretching her stride. Smiling to herself, she continued.

Though the earth did indeed speed her way, and none saw Meline as she traveled, she caught snippets of conversation, as fey and creatures mingled. Most of it was casual, and Meline forgot it as she passed.

But as she descended the second rise, the snippets grew more interesting. “Ella the mad fairy lived with people”, “Ella worked with iron”, “the mad fairy drank vole’s blood and had a helmet made of a squirrel’s skull”, “The Mad Fairy of Oakhill stole children that wandered out after dawn”, and other such. Meline was some way from the yard, and knew from her own experience how stories grew the further they traveled. Still, she kept two firm hands on her staff. Talk of “The Mad Fairy” grew less as she drew closer to the yard; fewer fairies lived here, too.

The moon was setting as the trees about the yard grew taller. She was almost to them when Meline’s skin prickled.

There was a fence. Between her and the yard. A fence of iron wire.

She released her magic, but drew her mantle tight about her. She slowly took one step, and then another. A cold sweat ran down her back as the fence drew closer. She tried to keep the breath slow and steady in her chest. Though her eyes dried and sweat dripped into them, she daren’t blink.

And too quickly, one more step would bring her under the wire. She tried to lift her foot. It wouldn’t move.

Meline stood frozen for some time before little voices began to speak to her. …He’s gone… They said he’s left… we have no dad… we wanna be frogs, but we don’t know how… what’s gonna happen to us?

The tadpoles never said the last, but Meline heard it in their hearts. They were alone and scared, like Meline was alone and scared. “No child should ever feel like that.” Meline lifted her foot, and swung it, bit by agonizing bit, forward. Even as every instinct screamed at her to leave, she brought it down. On the other side of the fence.

The next step was easy. So easy. Three more steps, and she dropped to her knees and retched.

Meline got to her feet, and cleaned her face. She gargled a mouthful of dirt, and spat it out. It washed the foulness away.

The trees of the yard were young but tall. It wouldn’t be long, and they’d be true giants, though the trees of Oak and Stone dwarfed them.

Meline walked to the base of a maple. The sky was starting to brighten. The house was dark against the eastern sky. The whole yard rose up to it. Beyond it was another building of the people. To Meline’s left were huge panels on metal stands. They reeked of iron and plastic. Beside the house, was a single tall oak tree. Was that it? Did Ella of Oakhill live there? She must be mad.

Regardless, Meline pressed on. The moonlight was fading, but the stars were still bright as she crossed to the oak.

A rustle to her left caught her ear. She saw a huge shape, low to the ground, moving toward her. She hardly breathed as a she-snake slithered toward her. Even at her best, a she-snake was a huge, dangerous creature for Meline. For any fairy. And Meline was exhausted.

She raised her staff, hoping the serpent would pass her by. It slithered, forked tongue rising and falling, light stripes bright against its black armour.

It stopped, lowered its nose, tasting the ground and the air. Meline held her breath.

It slithered in her direction.

Meline drew her strength into one final word. Her emerald flashed, its light passing into the ground. She shrieked. It shattered the quiet of the night. The serpent recoiled, shaking her head.

Meline sprinted for the tree. It was so far away. Too far away. She’d used so much magic tonight.

A pebble caught her toe. She cursed, tried to keep upright. Three fumbling steps and she crashed to the ground, her mantle slipping. The snake had recovered, and was closing in. Meline rose, clinging to her staff, praying she wouldn’t have to sacrifice it to keep this thing from swallowing her.

It opened its mouth, each dagger-sharp tooth as long as Meline’s finger. Ropes of drool ran from its lips as it pushed its windpipe forward.

“Child of Earth, hear me,” she said, hoping the snake couldn’t feel her legs tremble through the ground, “I am Meline of Wild Rose. Leave this fairy in peace, or I will put my power upon you.”

The snake raised her head. “I am Thamnophis,” she said, her eyes huge and black, her mouth opening wider. “You are tired… Gaze into my eyes, fairy, and sleep… sleep and dream… happily.”

Meline felt herself sag, even as she fought to resist the snake’s charm. Her vision blurred, and the snake drew closer, its mouth impossibly huge. Her scream came out as a sob.

A roar, a hiss of rage, and dazzling silver blocked out the black of the snake’s mouth. “Away, Tham!” Meline looked up, the snake’s charm snapped like a cord. A tall figure stood between her and the serpent. The figure carried a naked sword in one hand, and wore a chain coat.

“You!” The snake rose and snapped her head forward, too fast for Meline’s tired eyes to see. The figure struck the head aside with his sword. The blade bit into scale, but did not cut to the flesh. It scored a gash across the glass of the snake’s eye. She pulled back, and the figure closed, striking the snake on her snout with a gauntleted fist.

“I said away with you!” He grabbed the beast’s tongue and pulled. The snake’s hiss turned to a strangled mewl. He pulled again, until the snake’s scratched eyepiece was next to his face. He spoke low, so Meline couldn’t hear.

Her vision blurred without any magical help, and Meline was out like a light.

[soft-boi-eli]

Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgry (part 2)

Tw:swearing, mentions of surgry, softness.

Karl

This sweet ass man.

You are just laying on your bed, well sitting really, when he came in.

He had a fuck ton of balloons. And a large box.

Karl seemed like a child on christmas.

Placing the balloons down he handed you the surprisingly light box.

He was gently bouncing as he waited for you to open it.

It shocked you how it even fit in the box.

It was a huge frog bed.

You realized with a pillow you would be able to sleep in it perfectly.

"I knew it was uncomfortable sleeping like that so I got something that should make it a bit more comfortable."-karl

You loved it.

Sadly you couldnt use it till those drains were out though.

He was right though that was definitely more comfortable then laying on a bed only.

He didnt think it through though. And got sad when he wasn't able to fully cuddle you.

But he found out that he could lay on your lap and legs.

You both enjoyed it.

Also he might be a bit squeamish when it came to your chest drains but he was helpful with them.

He helped you clean them and your wounds, he was very, very gentle.

He didnt want to hurt you.

"You know it's ok to do it a little harder. It wont hurt."-(y/n)

"But I dont want to hurt you. I know this doesn't hurt."-karl.

It was sweet. But got kinda annoying sometimes when he couldnt get something off. But he never got angry or frustrated. Just kept very gentle.

I imagine that when he was cleaning your new scars, Jimmy came to see if you got his balloons and if you doing good.

You two were in the living room bowl of warm soapy water, in a large plastic bowl, and karl gently wiping off all of the crust around the scars.

You fell asleep before karl finished and karl was finishing up when jimmy came in.

"Karl. They're alseep."-jimmy

"Yeah but this needs to be cleaned. It doesn't hurt them."-karl

Jimmy and karl literally just sat there till you woke up.

You thanked jimmy for the balloons and thanked karl for helping you clean those wounds.

Karl didnt mind though. Cause this sweet heart cares for you and just wants you to feel better and feel comfortable.

Quackity

He loves you and all but dont expect him to help with the surgical sight.

He'll do everything for you except clean your wounds and drain those drains.

He loves to hug you and kept you warm.

He would stream but you were always behing the green screen so no one would see you.

"Alex. Can you get me to book I left in the living room. I feel like shit still."-(y/n)

He was very quick to get it. And I mean he bolted out got it and brought it in the span of a minute. He gave you a light kiss on the forehead, and whispered.

"Anything for you mi amoir."-quackity.

You gave him a smile.

"Simp."-(y/n)

He gasped offended and looked at you.

"Well only for you though."-quackity.

I imagine as a get well gift quackity would get you something to remind you of him when he streams.

Large duck push.

He knew that his streams could last a long time so he decided it was best if you had a snuggle buddy to help you stay in position.

If the duck got dirty he was cleaned nearly immediately by quackity.

If the duck falls off the bed quackity gently yeets it onto the bed where you can reach.

He might of gotten jealous of the duck a few times. But he seemed to get over it when you went to hugging him instead. Sadly it wasnt that easy to but still none the less you gave him hugs too.

Dont neglect you quack boi.

He needs hugs like you do.

Give them to him. These are the only times you get cuddles. Other then that he is making food, getting you comfy, and fixing your pillows and shit like that.

He is now a maid.

Not sexually though. He just cleans the house, get you things you need, and makes food.

He is helpful.

Just not with the cleaning process of your wounds. And that's fine. He keeps you comfy and that's all that matters.

Also if your cold in the middle of hot ass summer and asking for more blankets he would look at you crazy. Like what the fuck?

But you have them lightly fluttered over you.

He wants you comfy. Even if that means you looking like your boiling alive in the middle of july.

If your happy he's happy. That's how it goes

Badboyhalo

Badboyhalo?

More like dadboyhalo.

He is not going to let you do anything.

Your surgical incisions? He's cleaning them.

Your drains? He's got you.

Your getting alot of soup and smoothies. He even joins in on your so called diet so you wont get jealous about what he has.

Rat is all over you. Sensing the pain you were having and cuddling you completely. Your laps is almost always taken by rat.

Badboyhalo doesn't really care if rat gets alot of attention by you. He just wants you to be comfortable.

But sometimes he gets sad that he cant fully lay with you.

But he enjoys just sitting with you and talking through the nights you cant really sleep.

He gets you a stuffed cat, you use it mainly as a pillow and sometimes hug it when bad is streaming.

"It reminded me of you when I saw it."-bad

Your heart melted.

He loved your reactions to the little sweet gesters he did. It brought him joy to know you were able to relax and trust him at this moment and time.

You get a free swearing pass. He knows you hurt really bad at times but he lightly says language when on stream.

You understood though. He had kids watching too.

You were grumpy one day, bad took rat because of a rat cam stream. And all you wanted was to be warmed up by something else then a blanket.

You were sittinging there looking at bad as he streamed.

You could technically get up and grab rat but he my tell you not to.

So you quietly patted your lap.

Rat immediately seemed to notice and run over to you, jumping onto the bed and laying in your lap.

You felt accomplished and tired so you fell asleep.

Rat leaving made the chat confused but bad explained that you were healing from a surgery.

Chat wished you a good recovery and told bad to go and comfort you. Even though you were asleep.

He tried to explain it but the donations kept yelling at him.

So he ended stream and laid next to you and rat.

This was comfortable.

Eret

Eret, they were a whole 'nother story.

This fabulous being is like a maid service in one.

They have two outfits they wore when you were upset.

A maid outfit and a butler outfit.

You just got home, you were in pain, sitting up and swaddled in blankets and Goose was trying to smother you at this point.

Eret was streaming and you were sitting there in the background, blankets, pain, and goose exsiting.

You didnt know eret was talking about you because you were falling asleep. Eret nor you expected what their followers did.

Her door was bombarded with packages addressed to you. Decorated with words about getting well soon, that they were proud of you, even some saying you were their rolemodle.

Eret decided to have a stream of you opening them.

Let's just say alot of them were food, candies, even foreign food and drinks. Someone made you a homemade blanket in the trans colors.

Best part about that blanket, it was heated.

You were using it immediately as you were freezing.

Eret just chuckled and rubbed your shoulder as you opened them.

Needless to say they are proud of you, happy that you were one huge step closer to who you were.

All they wanted was your happiness.

Niki

She's a sweetheart.

Need I say more?

Well I will because fuck you I can.

Constant cuddles, be it only her head in your lap, it is almost always happening.

When you have to take your pain meds she is instantly on it, do you want soup or a smoothie? You cant decide? She'll make it a surprise.

If you dont live with her then you're staying with her while you are recovering. She doesn't want you alone when you are in pain.

You'll be bedridden until she thinks you're okay.

If she deems you as not fit for doing something she's on it. Drop you glasses for reading/drawing/writing/typing. You bet your ass as soon as she heard that clack and you groan she's picked it up and it's on your lap.

Also makes sure you're good with streaming.

If you say your good with it that day it's a calm stream. There is no lore happening when you're healing everyone was fine with that due to the fact that niki would have to sit out and the lore was with her as well so that couldn't happen.

Will came to visit...

Saw you, took pity, and now you're stuck with two people showering you in affection and comfort.

You saw Wilbur as a brother. And wilbur saw you as his younger brother. So he literally felt the pain when he saw you wince.

Niki thought it was cute and comforted both of you.

Anyways she saw something before your surgery and decided that you needed it.

It would make you feel better.

It made you laugh.

You regretted laughing but loved the hoodie.

It fit so well and it was beautiful, you also were thinking about buying it one day because you could.

But niki beat you to it.

Wilbur didnt stop laughing.

I mean who blames him.

You literally just Yeeted your tits. And niki got you something that said yeet right on top of it.

It worked perfectly.

Also when niki's not cuddling you zuko is.

End of story, you're seriously stuck with cuddles no matter what. Be it from an animal or a human.

Wilbur wont cuddle you more of give you head pats.

Niki normally streamed with you there with her unless lore stream.

So when the second day after your surgery, she had streamed, and you weren't there her chat started asking questions. Wondering if you were good, if something happened.

That's when you raised from your dead sleep, zuko falling off your stomach, shirtless, just to go grab some sock as your toes felt like they would fall off.

Chat seemed relived but started questioning the binder and all that.

Niki explained that you got top surgery and that you were healing still.

"He's looking like he wants to die right now. Are you sure he's fully okay?"-dono

"Yeah I'm good. Just stubbed my toe as well."-you.

Niki was quick to rush over and help you back to the bed.

"Just sit down I'll get you your water hun."-niki

She was quick to fill your bottle up and place it next to you on the table next ot the bed.

She's such a big help not matter what honestly.

She loves you and will do anything for you.

I am sorry this took so long. Just had a very unstable mental state. Also sorry if they seem oc. I'm once more not on a good mental state and have been trying to work on this.

So yeah if I dont post in a bit I'm so sorry just stressing alot. Insomnia is kicking me so hard.

My grandma broke her foot, she's all good though.

And I have taken up most things in my house as I live with both my mother and grandmother still.

But yeah I apologize for the break just gonna try to let myself get better. It might take a bit. It might be quite short I dont know. I just need to get more sleep.

Eli is very tired now. Bye.

[gemsofgreece]

Bad Boys of the Greek Cuisine

Everyone’s taste is different but the Greek Cuisine is generally acknowledged as a very tasty cuisine with both European and Middle Eastern influences. Not only that but it is considered one of the healthiest diets in the world with one of its branches, the Cretan diet, taking the first place the last time I checked. The secret of this cuisine’s success lies on the use of top quality and very fresh products and not so much on the use of many or unusual ingredients. However, that’s not to say that the Greek cuisine does not come with its fair share of extreme dishes. Here are some of them: Πατσάς - Patsás Patsas is a tripe soup / stew aka a stew made of stomach. It looks innocent and it is usually eaten as a comfort food but the cooking process smells like the name sounds... In Greece, there are shops called Patsatzídika that stay open until way past midnight and offer exclusively this dish and they are preferred after a lot of alcohol consumption. I had to remove the picture because I had eleven in this post and Tumblr sucks. I removed Patsas because it is the most normal looking one. Χοχλιοί μπουμπουριστοί - Hochlií buburistí Probably the Greek dish with the hardest name, at least for me. It is a traditional dish of Crete island but you can enjoy it all around Greece, provided that you are eager to eat... snails.

Κοκορέτσι - Kokoretsi Kokoretsi is a roasted dish made of animal intestines, livers and lungs served in slices. While this name does not originate from the Greek language, the dish was already loved by the Byzantine Greeks who called it “Chordae” meaning cords. The dish is hard to be prepared as it is necessary that the intestines are very carefully cleaned with tools such as pencils and knitting needles. In Greece it is often served at Easter.

Σπληνάντερο - Splinándero It is what its name means: Spleen and Large Bowel. Plus heart. From old sheep and goats. Also served at Easter because apparently Greeks go feral during Easter.

Μαγειρίτσα - Mayiritsa Another Easter classic, served during the Holy Saturday, Mayiritsa is a liver and heart soup. It’s certainly not for the faint of... nose such as me who I had to leave the house as my mum was cooking it. This is why recently a new type of Mayiritsa is trending, which replaces the organs with mushrooms and it is ideal for vegetarians and people with a sensitive nose. Nevertheless, most people love traditional Mayiritsa. Once I found an ice cream shop in Thessaloniki serving a mayiritsa flavour. What the heck.

By they way we have like another gazillion intestine dishes for some unknown reason but I will skip them to make this post more varied. Αχινοί - Raw Urchins This is a delicacy to several sea cuisines around the world. Greece is one of them. Recipe: go to a beach with clear waters, look for an urchin, hold it carefully, cut the living urchin in half with a knife and pour fresh lemon juice on it. That's it, that's the recipe.

Χταπόδι - Octopus This is by no means an extreme food in Greece but I include it here because I was surprised to find out it is nowhere as common in most countries and people often have a strong reaction to it. Well, in Greece we only have a reaction of fierce love for it. Octopus is used in several Greek dishes but the most iconic is probably grilled octopus marinated in vinegar often served with Greek sauerkraut salad. Seafood restaurants often hang fresh fished octopuses outside their shops and let them dry in the sun. It is a classic image of Greece and a sign the restaurant offers very fresh products. It was literally grabbed from the sea and flung to your face, top that level of freshness if you can.

Σπινιάλο - Spinialo Spinialo is a traditional seafood dish originating from the island of Kalymnos. The dish consists of fouskes, sea squirts that are marinated in a bottle of seawater. These primitive marine vertebrates usually attach themselves to shells and rocks, and when cut in half, fouskes reveal a soft flesh with a strong and bitter flavor and a texture that's similar to scrambled eggs.

Αρνί στη σούβλα - Skewered lamb If you are in anyway familiar with Greece, you probably know what the main event of our Easter feasts is. Roasting a whole skewered lamb. I imagine people freaking out at that. But, hey, it's a huge part of our tradition. And don't mind me saying, it bloody tastes insane. It's funny that in 27 years of life, now that I'm typing this in English, it is the first time it occurs to me that some people could potentially find this weird.

Πεσκανδρίτσα - Angler fish This hideous fish is eaten in two ways. Its...uhm... head is a common ingredient of Greek fish soups. I am personally not that much into soups or fish but let me tell you and sign this as well: this unassuming fellow has the most delicious tail. Its tail is called Μπρασκοουρά (Braskourá) and is heaven when fried. Don't look at it, just read my words and trust them.

Κεφαλάκι σούπα - Head soup The name sounds too generic but at least it is only about (poor) goats and sheep. This dish is getting a little too extreme for young Greeks but in my parents' generation, parents would chase the children to eat the eyes because that supposedly made you clever. The tongue was enjoyed too. Anyway, I'll spare you of a graphic image.

I am loth to end this fantastic post but the new BETA mode I am on forbids more than 10 pictures (that’s the actual reason I did not add a head soup picture and not that I am kind-hearted) so I'm gonna end this with the weirdest type of meat we eat. Like I said above, some things here might look a bit much, but when it comes to the types of meat Greeks eat, we really don't like taking the uncommon path. Greek cuisine is more mellow than extreme. Ironically, Greeks eat meats well done or medium at most because they are squeamish at the idea of eating bloody or remotely raw meat. So they eat a load of bowels and heads that stare at your soul but at least they are cooked for, like, 6 hours, you know, to ensure they are absolutely dead. Greeks typically devour eat farm animals, poultry, boars and a few commonly hunted birds, almost all fish and seafood. They also eat rabbits and hares (would that be considered uncommon? IDK) but that's where it ends. For instance, deer can be found in Greek supermarkets but nobody wants to eat such a gorgeous being and if you eat horse intentionally, you might as well get kicked out of the country (exaggeration but still). So, farm mammals, a few birds, fish and seafood. And snails. That's all. Oh! And- Βατραχοπόδαρα - Frog legs Frog legs is a traditional delicacy of the mountainous lakeside city of Ioannina. It is the only region of Greece where frogs are eaten. It is a tasty looking dish and those who have tried it say it actually tastes a lot like chicken. Actually sign me up for this. I mean, look at that. Why the hell not?

Now I wonder how many people decided to all of a sudden not travel to Greece and how many decided to come just now. And I wonder what that nice Anon who complimented my delicious food posts thinks now. But remember, Greek cuisine might have some bad boys but it also has many good good gooooood ones.

[fanfoolishness]

Translation (The Mandalorian)

(Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages.  Some might have thought the Child had no language at all.  Din Djarin and the Child grow to understand each other.  Fluff, feels, found family. Spoilers through the end of season 2, 2400 words.) 

***

Din Djarin was a man of few words, but he spoke many languages.

His earliest memories, half-forgotten, were soft whispers of his parents’ native tongue.  The Basic they spoke carried a sweet, slurred accent he could hear sometimes in dreams, fading as he grew older.  He had known the name and sounds of their language once, but years among the Children of the Watch had long erased them.

He learned other words to replace them, lost the accent of his youth and exchanged it for one of the Outer Rim.  He absorbed phrases and lessons in ancient Mando’a, wrote them in his mind in a way he could never forget, standing tall for lessons with the other foundlings.  They learned the words in hand and bone and soul, paired with the battle training of body and mind, and the words blazed within him.  They were a forge burning blue-white hot, transforming him slowly into a Mandalorian like his saviors.  He spoke those words on the day they granted him his helmet, and he gladly covered his face, the fire within roaring with a newfound pride.

As a young man he traversed the Rim, face always hidden, ears always open. New words were needed for the work he found.  He picked up enough Jawaese to trade with, though he bore little love for the scavengers; sometimes they were his only choice.  He spoke their language haltingly, enough to do what he needed, his mouth straining to shape itself in ways near impossible for a human.  If it was what the job needed, he’d do it.

His work brought him to worlds near and far, places where rule of law was an outright myth.  He took a great deal of work on Tatooine, and soon realized his marks, if still planetside, always fled to the desert.  

He was no fool.  He brought gifts in trade to the Sand People, meager things he could ill afford, but they sensed his respect, and they gave him words.  He learned their signs, hands practicing the movements at night by their fires.  He practiced until he understood the shape of the grammar, how the signs flowed one to the other, sentences constructed in the air before him.  He asked them for aid, and they told him of the trespassers on their land.

The Guild worked often with the Hutts and their empires, and he found himself bristling at droids taking liberties with his Basic for their Hutt masters.  Protocol droids weren’t the ones who’d devastated his world, of course, but they were soulless, empty things all the same.  He practiced his Huttese in seedy bars, in market squares, rarely with marks who behaved themselves for a chance to stay out of carbonite for a little while.  He spoke to the Hutts in their own language, and they learned, with time, to keep their droids back when dealing with the Mandalorian hunter.  

He picked up other snippets here and there, and understood more than he spoke in Twi’leki, Durese, Bocce.  Language was just another tool, another weapon that could be wielded in service of the Way.  He used it for little else.

Until he found the Child, and the words of the Creed flared deep in his bones.

***

The Child had no language, as far as he could tell.  He tried all of them he had, both spoken and signed, on the journey to Sorgan.  

“What’s your name?”

“Where do you come from?”

“Why did the Imps want you?”

“Who do you belong to?”

The Child just looked at him with interest, no matter which language he tried.  In desperation he even tried out curse words from a few he had no other point of reference for, feeling vaguely guilty for doing so, but it was the only other thing he could think to do.  The Child watched him curiously, small green hands folded politely in his lap as if waiting for Din to finish.  

He ended with a muttered “dank farrik,” and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.  The Child tilted his enormous ears and blinked slowly, looking at him deep in concentration.

“Eee,” he cooed happily, and Din sighed, awkwardly patting the Child on the top of his head.

“That’s okay, kid.  We’ll, uh, we’ll work on it.”

***

He watched the Child with the village children.  They chattered to him eagerly in Basic, calling for him to follow them, patiently laying out the rules in their little games.  A boy might lift the Child up in his arms, then pass him to a girl who would show him how to play with their game of counting sticks and stones.  For his part the Child laughed and played with them as if he’d been there all his life.

He wondered if the kid could understand Basic, but if his mouth just didn’t work the right way to speak it.  He’d never seen another of the kid’s kind, after all.  He practiced with him at nighttime, just little things here and there, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Come here, kid.”

“That’s called soup.  Sooooup.  Can you -- hey, don’t spill it --”

“Don’t touch that.”

“I said, don’t touch that.”

“C’mon, kid, get outta there --”

Well, if the kid understood Basic, he sure had a funny way of showing it.

***

Peli Motto was a good mechanic.  That wasn’t too surprising; spaceport towns usually had pretty good options.  Anyone who couldn’t wield a spanner was weeded out pretty quickly.  More surprising was the way she handled the kid.  

She sat in the landing zone on a shipping crate, the Child on her knee.  He seemed content as she bounced him slightly up and down, letting out cheery little noises periodically and waving his hands.

“How do you know how to do that?” Din asked, examining the Crest’s landing gear and checking the repair job.  Everything looked to be in order.  “He seems to like it.”

“Kids like bouncing,” she said matter-of-factly.  “Doesn’t matter what species  they are.  They like bouncing, food, feeling safe.  All the good stuff.”

He leaned against the landing gear, folding his arms across his chest.  “He… didn’t say anything while I was gone, did he?”

She shook her head.  “Nah.  I think this little one’s too young for language yet.  But I think he understands more than he lets on.”

Din’s mouth twitched in a smirk she couldn’t see.  “You and me both.  He’s stubborn, this one.”

She laughed.  “Reminds me of you.”

***

The Child was starting to become just ‘the child.’  He wasn’t sure when he stopped thinking of the kid so formally.  Maybe it was a side effect of the past several weeks together, leap to leap, world to world.  He was getting used to the little womp rat being there, messing with controls on the ship, getting into trouble, generally making a nuisance of himself.

Except for when he looked up at Din, his dark eyes open and trusting; except for when he fell asleep in the crook of Din’s arm instead of the blankets in his pram.  

He was kid now, mostly.  Sometimes buddy.  Sometimes pal.  The Child was starting to be reserved for when Din talked to other people.  In the Razor Crest, just the two of them, he was just the kid, and Din was just himself.

***

He cradled the kid against his chest as the wind whipped past them, the Rising Phoenix carrying them back to the Crest over the lava fields of Nevarro.  The kid’s little hands clung to his cuirass, but there was no need; Din held him more tightly, more securely, than anything he’d ever carried in his life.

A clan of two.  You are as its father.  

Dying sunlight glinted on the mudhorn signet, a reflection picked up through the slit in his helmet.  He swallowed, then tilted his chin in towards his chest, making sure the kid was okay in the wind.

A little face turned upwards to look at him, big eyes wide, his mouth dropped open in surprise.  Din chuckled a little, despite his aching head from the injury, despite the fate of the Tribe weighing upon him.  The kid liked the ride.  

“Don’t worry, buddy,” he said into the wind.  “I got you.”

***

The kid didn’t speak Basic.  But he spoke something, and Din began to know more and more of what that was.

There was a little tilt of his head and shift of his ears for curiosity.  A slight coo and wide-eyed expression for delight.  An intent narrowing of the eyes with ears held stiff and back towards the tiny shoulders, especially when he wanted to do something that Din very much did not want him to do.

He tugged Din’s leg for food or to be picked up or changed.  He stared at himself in the reflections of Din’s armor and sometimes reached out to touch the shadow faces in their smooth surfaces, looking up at Din in surprise when there was nothing there but beskar.  He waited until Din looked away to play with knobs and buttons on the control console, and Din got better at always keeping an eye on the kid with his helmet turned just slightly towards him, enough to use his peripheral vision.

He found himself speaking more and more to the kid.  Things he didn’t need to say, words that filled the little cockpit of the Razor Crest with a warmth the place had never known.  The words spilled out of him, and the kid soaked them up like sunshine.

“Good job back there.  You were very brave.”

“Come on now, you know better than to mess with that.  … see?  I knew you did.  Good.”

“Feeling hungry?  Let’s see… I’ve got frog legs, bantha milk -- oh, there’s a thing of soup I can warm up for you.  No, those cookies are for after dinner.  You wanna grow big and strong, don’t you, little guy?  Dinner first.  Cookies later.  If you behave yourself.”

“Time for bed, kid.  No fussing.  I can see how sleepy you are.  Come on, I’ll come to bed too.”

“Night.  Get some rest, okay?”

It wasn’t just words he used.  He found a dozen, a hundred reasons during the day to reach out and smooth the kid’s robe collar, or carefully touch the edge of one oversized ear.  He got used to the weight of the kid on his hip or nestled in one arm.  His gloved fingertips were gentle, brushing against the kid’s cheek to clean his little face, checking his hands and feet for dirt or scratches.  He rested a hand against the kid’s back for reassurance, brushed a hand over the curve of the back of his head to help the kid relax and fall asleep.  He got used to small clawed hands nestled in his own.  And sometimes the kid reached up to touch his helmet, little hand slipping under the brim, and Din let it stay.

***

Turned out there were other ways to talk.  The Jedi turned to him in the misty night, firelight golden on her face, telling him years of tragic history, a constant fear, a lingering anger… a name.  

Grogu.  

It was hard to wrap his mind around at first.  The name fit the kid in some ways -- short and kind of ugly, but in a way that turned itself around to be somehow endearing.  But hearing the name lanced him through the heart, cauterizing like a blaster bolt.  Grogu had a name, and had nearly lost it.  He didn’t want that for him.  Remembered, for an instant, how it had felt --

But you had the Way.  What does he have?

He tried to help the kid -- Grogu -- with his powers, tried to show the Jedi what he could do.  He needs training.  I have to make sure he gets it.  He held the little silver ball, proud as anything when Grogu summoned it to his small hand with a snap.  But the Jedi’s refusal to take him slapped him in the face.  

He took Grogu back to the Crest that night, deep in thought, boots leaving little mark upon the loamy forest floor.  Grogu watched his helmet with wide eyes.  For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy.  How many months had he been with the kid, and never found out half of what the Jedi told him in a moment’s conversation?  

“If I could have, I would have, kid,” he murmured.  “...you know that, right?”

Grogu’s hand came up to twist into the cloth of his cowl, brushing against his neck.  

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and the relief he felt was indescribable.

***

There hadn’t been enough time.

One moment he was laughing in the cockpit, overwhelmed by the way Grogu looked up when Din said his name.  One moment he was whooping when the kid used his powers, eagerly telling him he’d done good.  One moment it was just the two of them, happy, hopeful, safe.  

And then the Jedi Seeing Stone lit up with a glow he didn’t understand, and Grogu slipped away from him.

He fought and Fett and Shand fought with him, and through it all he could only think, Grogu. Kid. I’ll protect you!

A messy, chaotic fight, blaster fire, a direct salvo.  The Crest vanishing under a blinding flash, dark figures launching into the sky with precious cargo at a speed the Rising Phoenix couldn’t hope to match.

He failed. 

Grogu was gone.

And he had no words at all.

***

Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages.

Some might have thought the Child had no language at all.

But on an Imperial cruiser, standing before strangers, Din held his son close.  He cradled him to say goodbye, and when the little hand brushed against the brim of his helmet, he lifted it without hesitation, despite the Creed written in bones and blood and beskar.  

Din trembled at the warmth, the softness, of that small hand brushing tenderly against his naked cheek.  And when he opened teary eyes to gaze upon Grogu’s face, he knew exactly what his child was trying to say.

[astormyjet]

Winter of 2018 - Summer of 2021 TIME FILES WHEN YOU’RE IN YOUR 20s!!!!

OH BOY. It’s been three years (or more) since I updated this. “Time is a weird soup!” to quote a fave. I guess I quit tumblr around the time there was a purge of content and creators and a smack down on a lot of the fandom communities. Tumblr has always been something of a crapshow though so I’ve been more productive with my time than I was in some ways, but I’ve also found other ways to waste my time. *cough twitter/netflix/youtube/MTGArena cough*.

General Life Achievements since 2018 -JLPT N3 GET in 2019! -Blackbelt GET in 2018! -TESOL 120 Hour and BE 50 Hour Cert from online provider GET in 2021 -STUDENT LOAN BANISHED (Thank you grandparents) -Survived Apartment flooding in early 2020. -Mystery anxiety related illness and chronic pain in my left leg from early 2020 - Present. -A mythical 6th and 7th year on the JET Programme. -Started posting on Instagram a lot more about my wanderings around Matsuyama/Uwajima. Mainly old buildings and stray cats. @astormyknight -Surviving so far in Japan with old rona-chan.

2018 was rough. I was given an additional school in the first semester (March to July) as we had someone find a better job. I enjoyed it, but it was a bit of a rough go especially when I was transferred that August after three fantastic years at Tsubaki JHS and ES and only a semester there. I legit went through the five stages of grief - which I think is another reason I stopped blogging. I was given my current base school along with four other schools. Going from 2(3) to 5 schools was a bit of an adjustment. I still feel a bit spread out.

That said, I keep running into teachers and students who were at the Tsubaki’s. The teachers shuffle around every April, so it's always a lottery with which new faces are going to be old friends (or enemies…). A couple of kids moved and transferred into my current schools from Tsubaki too. So I have one kid I can say I've been teaching for 6 out of the 7 years I've been here!

One of the kids who was in JHS 3rd grade when I first got here (in 2015!) hangs out around one of my favorite cafes, so I got chatting with him recently. He's in his second year of nursing school - his class nearly broke me in the first year, it was really a trial by fire with those kids. I was 22 then, and he’s 20 now, so it was interesting chatting to him about that first year of teaching. His younger sister was one of my favorite students too, she was in the group of kids that graduated in the March of 2018, the year group that went through Tsubaki JHS with me - they’re newly minted University students now!

This Thursday morning when I was cycling in to work, a kid who was 2nd year JHS when I left  (so 2nd or 3rd year JHS now) pulled up with their Mum in a van and got their mamachari out of the back to bike to school. The franticness of it all was hilarious. Their Mum legit sat on the horn until I pulled over. I was so happy to run into this kid, even at social distance and both of us late to work/school - because we both remembered each other and as they were going around the corners they were yelling each time they turned and humming the old elementary school directions chant and pelting me with questions about what I’ve been up to.

I've had so many students and schools now, that everything is kind of running into a blur. I remember flashes of kids faces and voices, random memories of in class or out of class shenanigans out of the blue. Also, I now, more than ever, have issues remembering kids' names, but I still know their faces (even with their masks), whose homeroom class they were in, who their friends were and which club they were in. I get random flashbacks to past conversations with them when I see them on the street or we run into each other. I feel bad because the first thing former students ask is ‘Do you remember my name?’ and I always have to be like, ‘Honestly, no, but I remember you did this on x day, x month in x classroom’.

Socially in 2018 -2019 - a few of our friends went home and things shook up a little. Our DnD group changed a bit - one of our players stepped into the role forever DM (THANK YOU RALPH). From memory the newbies were great - some of them just went home at the start of last month and it’s weird not seeing them around (JESS DO YOUR BEST!). I think we only have one or two people left from that rotation. There’s no 6th year ALTs, and only two 5th years.

Aug 2018 - Aug 2019 was the year of Hiura - my mountain school. Dang man, they were so cool. The students of the JHS and the ES combined barely hit 30, so each class was between 3-10 students depending on the grade. It was easier to get to know the kids, their abilities and their goals than it has been for me at other schools. I miss it so bad, being in nature once a week did my country-kid heart so good! The bugs! The frogs! The river! The mountain! The monkeys! The lizards! The dilapidated houses and hidden shrines!!!! The random crabs in the English room...I forgot that there was such a thing as freshwater crabs, and being right next to a river, the invasion wasn’t as out of place as I first thought...  

The area is so picturesque and calming. Every week up there was a small adventure (after getting over my motion sickness from the bus ride up). The kids were constantly pranking either myself or the main English teacher. There was always some new weird bug or lizard in a tank to be educated about. There were chickens on the way to the JHS that used to escape from their cardboard box prisons to run riot on the gardens. There were old people to freak out with my youth and foreignness! The kids also got to do a lot of extra classes, sumiyakai (making charcoal the traditional way), planting and maintaining rice paddies, setting up vegetable gardens, raising fireflies, conserving a special breed of fire lily (only found in this particular mountain valley) and another rare flower, wilderness training ect.

I wish I could have stayed there a lot longer but SOMEONE (read...the BoE) decided that schools had to be shuffled again(thank goodness the dude who has it now was able to keep it from the 2021 shuffle, he's the best fit for the school). I had so many good memories from there, I wish I had been more consistent in writing it down. I do have a bunch of photos and videos from there though, so that's nice. The only thing I don’t miss is the bus trip up and down - not only was it motion sickness, there was a healthy dose of fear each ride as the driver brought us perilously close to the edge of the mountain drop…

2019 - 2020 was interesting. With the school I got given instead of the Hirua’s I was roped into more demonstration lessons which was a lot of pressure because I was also involved quite heavily with the JHS observation and training lessons too. They were somewhat rewarding, the third graders are now super smart 5th graders, but the teachers  who need to embrace the new curriculum and ways of teaching really haven’t taken on anything from the lessons....

Outside of work as well, I was given the chance, thanks to an ALT buddy of mine, to join in with the local festival. It's been one of the biggest highlights of my time here, and I am gutted it’s been cancelled for the last two years, but I understand the reason…. I was able to travel to Okinawa too during that summer for an international Karate seminar with the Dojo I train with. I met the head of the style I currently practice and a bunch of people from around the world. I also got to see Shuri castle before it burned down. So that was a stroke of luck. One of the places I want to go when/if we get out of this pandemic is Okinawa. I want to see more of those Islands so bad. Just before the whole pandemic thing too - I managed to see the Rugby World Cup, a Canada vs NZ match, I even ran into Tana Umanga in Oita city!!!

2019 - 2020 was supposed to be my last year on JET, so I was frantically Job hunting. I went to the Career Fair in Osaka in early Feb/Late January 2020. I applied and got interviewed for a position in Sendai in early Jan 2020. In the end though - the Rona hit. We started hearing whispers of it around the end of 2019, then the cruise boats happened, and then Japan refused to cancel the Olympics...every holiday season there is a new wave of infections, my nurse friends in Tokyo are struggling....my teacher friends in more populous areas of Japan are struggling…

JET couldn't get new ALTs for 2020-2021, I took the extra year when it was eventually offered, as the one job I had managed to get a serious offer for was hesitating because with the rona setting in, things were uncertain. There was a lot of time spent adjusting to the new rules surrounding what we could do in class with the kids as well as textbook change. Schools shut on and off during the spring months. 

I also got a reminder of my mortality mid May with an unrelated illness which is still smacking me around a bit - stress/age, it does things to the human body it has no right to. It's only been in the last three months I’ve been able to exercise like I used to, I’ve put on a bunch of weight I can't shrug off (one part medication, another part diet) My relationship with food needs to change, and I really need a kitchen that allows me for more than one pan meals. I also need to figure out what to do with a left leg that is in constant pain from the knee down and a heart that misses beats when stressed out (mentally and physically…). 

My apartment also got flooded by the guy upstairs at one point, I spent most of late February/early March living in a hotel while my walls and floor got redone - I think this was one of the things that really stressed me out and kicked my anxiety right up a notch, it was right when things were getting REALLY bad with rona-chan in Hokkaido and schools were shutting down here as it was filtering into the prefecture and so Japan closed schools for the first time…

Classes in covid times have been weird. We’ve been wearing facemasks full time since the early stages of the pandemic (March 2020) - so I admit that I get a bit pissed off seeing both Americans and New Zealanders back home bitching about just having to start wearing them full time in public. I have asthma and have been suffering with the things on during the 30*C plus with high 90s humidity summers. Teachers were offered vaccines late July 2021, just days before the Olympics were open - and I finished my two shots in the middle of August. But the overall distribution and take up of the jab has been slow.  As mentioned above, we can't play a lot of the games we used to play with kids in classes anymore, and a lot of the activities outlined in the textbook curriculum need to be adjusted too, so we’ve had to be creative. We use hand sanitizer a lot more too. One of the things I miss the most though, is eating lunch with the kids.

Socially from summer 2020 - now 2021 we played a lot of DnD and board games, both online and in person when we could. There were no new ALTs again for the 2021-2022 JET year, and those of us who were in 6th year were offered a 7th. Four out of six of us took it. As a whole we’re down from a peak of 38 ALTs for Junior High and Elementary school to 22 for now. We hopefully will get a new person at the end of September, and 4 more in November. Which will bring us to 27. This has led to ANOTHER round of school shuffles.

Summer vacation has been weird the last two years. With rona-chan, we haven’t really been able to travel. All the summer festivals (all the Autumn and Winter ones too!) have been cancelled, so the changing of seasons just feels, wrong. I dunno. There is so much we all miss from pre-rona-chan, and so much that doesn’t happen that makes this just feel like one long long unending year of sadness, coldness, raininess, unbearable heat and repeat. I’m tired. Time is going so fast, but so.dang.slow.

I lost my favorite school (AGAIN GDI!!!) and gained the school I taught a semester at in 2019....I had my first day there on Wednesday. Schools actually started back on September 1st so there was some drama as the BoE didn’t communicate fast enough about our school changes. We legit got told on the 27th of August (on a Friday) our schools were changing effective September 1st, but somehow some of our schools found out on the Monday 30th August. In July we were told we would be changing schools at the end of September, so.a lot of ALTs and schools were left short changed, not having opportunities to say goodbye to co-workers or students/having their planning for the semester more or less thrown out the window too. I love my job. I really dislike the way the BoE treats us, the Japanese assistant language teachers and our schools.

The new school I have is used to having an ALT there twice a week, who plans all the lessons and executes them. I’m at three elementary schools. I'm only at each once a week, I want to plan, but being that I miss an entire lesson in between visits, it's going to be difficult to do so. Not impossible, but being that I'm already doing it for two other schools, who are at two different places in the textbook ah…….. From what I have talked to my new supervisor about though, it sounds like the teachers have taken on more of the lesson planning and I'll be able to contribute ideas when I'm there. I just want to and wish I could do more without being confused all the time. (This is all usually done in my second language too, not in English so extra levels of confusion and miscommunication abound).

 I feel like this at my JHS too a lot of the time. I want to contribute more, but even with constant communication with my main in school supervisor (who is a badass and pretty much on the same page about everything with me) I still feel about as useful as tits on a bull. Especially now that classes have been cancelled and or shortened, there's less time to do stuff. Any game or activity I plan is usually cut in favor of making up time in the textbook. When I'm in class, I'm back to being a tape recorder, the fun police and general nuisance.　

Also in the last week...my two of my schools were  shut due to students testing positive for the rona. This is the second time my schools have had a scare in the last 8 months. And by shut, I mean the students were all at home, but the teachers  all had to come into the office. Because why not I guess….. I mean,  the cases increasing is really not unexpected with the amount of people who were travelling over obon and the increase of cases due to the Olympics/Japan being slow on vaccinating/delta being the dominant strain/Japan's leaders doing relatively little except asking shops and restaurants to limit people coming in at one time and closing before 8pm. I know my schools weren't the only one shut either - but still High Schools were having their sports days this week. I kept on seeing groups of kids hanging in the park after, so that was a little bit nerve wracking.

It's just frustrating - we’ve been on half days to “minimize the risk of infection” for kids and teachers, as if only being at school from 8am through to 1pm is going to reduce the risk.  My schools have only just started testing out Microsoft teams and Zoom lesson equipment. Thankfully our school’s run in this time was contained real quick, the family was super good about informing us when they got their results back, and the fact they needed to be tested. The homeroom teacher and the students from the same class were the only ones tested, and they all came back clear, which was nice. But the information came back so SLOW. 

I’m a little irritated because I found out on Wednesday night what was going on, and even if I am vaccinated, I am super worried that I will end up being the covid monkey due to being at different schools three days out of five. I think other than being worried that I will catch it myself and get real sick, my biggest fear is that I will be protected from bad symptoms from the vaccine, but still be able to pass it onto some of my more vulnerable friends and students. The whole thing is a mess.  

Other than Covid and BoE drama, life is good. I’ve had a couple of other big changes - both fantastic and not so great, but yeah.  I have my health (and health insurance!) for now. I have a job, for now. I have a sense of existential dread for the next 12 months, but we’ll see where we end up. Life post JET is going to be way less cushy and I am TERRIFIED. I mean, I have a BA in Eng/Ling and no idea what to do with it…..because I am NOT suited for academia.

TLDR: Love my job. Don’t like the system. What is life? Future scary. 

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

The Lost Children #Writer Wednesday Din Djarin Modern Day Bounty Hunter x f!reader

For #Writer Wednesday created by the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog and tagging @clydesducktape (thanks a lot for the hard work of compiling everything each week)

Summary: This a part 2 of a fic I wrote a few months another Wednesday, read it here. After you scape with Din and your child, you try to find a life again even if that means he has to leave you.

Warnings: Language, talking about neglecting children or abandoned kids, guns. This is fluff with angst and Din being a softie but a dumbass expressing feelings

A/N: I'm super tired, so be ready to find many grammar and mispellings I didn't have the time to really read it through.

The lost children

For a bit, that’s what he said, what he promised until you’re safe and settled.

“So you can keep your little kid in the babycare with the rest of the kids while you’re working. One of the cabins to the right of the front office we’ll be entirely yours. We only ask that you keep clean and in a good state”

“Of course” you’re shining, happy and excited

“You heard that Greg, we’ll have a place on our own” your arms hold the baby tightly, rocking him softly until he giggles. When you turn to Din, he can see your eyes glowing, kissing little Greg’s head, you whisper thank you

Thanking him? what for? He just pointed out that small, almost entirely ripped from the wall, announcement of a local hotel in the middle of the woods that looked for personnel willing to work and live in the resort when they were stopping at a gas station.

It is a perfect place to hide and live a peaceful life and let a baby grow up in the middle of nature. Greg and you could be happy. So why is he thinking that he should make up some excuse so you don't stay, so you don’t leave him. He should be selfish and grab your hand and run away again like you’ve been doing for weeks now, but that’s not life for a baby, and you deserve it, leave the past behind. And him, even if he doesn’t want to admit, it’s part of your past of that runaway woman that commited many mistakes.

But Din’s a bounty hunter, his life on the road, from one job to the next would only make you unhappy, and at the end, you would hate him; and that’s it’s not an option.

Nothing has made Din happier than seeing you smile at him, the little comments here and there you tell him praising him and thanking him one, twice, a thousand times for helping you, the way the baby caresses his face with his small hand and those big eyes looking at him intently until he smiles with only those two little teeth. The way you look perfect, almost like a Madonna from the Renaissance, when the street lights hit your face while he’s driving and you hold your baby against your chest, both of you sleeping in the car.

Would you think he’s a creep for staring? There’s a warmth that grows inside him when he stares at you and baby Greg. A warmth he doesn’t want to let go. He cannot offer you a good life and Din doesn’t want to force you to live like he does, just because he’s so selfish to let you go.

“So what do you think?”

The manager leaves them to think about the offert. And Din balances his big body from one of his legs to the other, hands on his hips, he sighs

“I think”

I think you should be with me

I think I should protect you

I think I should protect Greg

I think I want to be with you, the both of you, forever

I think I love you

But he doesn’t say it

“I think you should take it. It is a good place for a kid”

You frown, even baby Greg looks at him puzzled from the crook of his mother’s neck

“Yes, it seems great, quiet...And I like that Greg could be with other kids. But what about you?”

Your eyes look big, pleading, there’s a question, a petion in them but you don’t say it with words so maybe Din is imagining it, he wants so bad that you will stay with him that maybe he’s making that up

“I will go and…”

And miss you

And miss Greg

And be alone again

“Start the business again somewhere else” he shrugs, and he sees the light flicking in your eyes, the idea in your head being shattered, you’ll never ask the question and he will never answer.

“But you can stay a few days, right? Rest, eat properly for once and repair the car”

“I don’t know…”

What would hurt more? leaving already or prolonging it?

“I don’t want to be this direct, Clint...” he likes that you keep using that nickname you gave him when you’re in public. You only use his real name when you’re alone. Making it even more special, it’s intimate, more anything he has ever felt.

“but you need a shower. And I do too and this stinky baby” you bury your nose on little Gregs neck and it makes him laugh out loud that angelic and sweet giggle hits him hard and before he even knows it, Din is nodding

“A few days won’t hurt”

It’s surprising how they fall easily in a routine. How they seem to find a perfect way around each other, a perfect model like the stars and planets always circling around each other and never colliding. You, dancing softly in the kitchen humming while you stir the soup, baby Greg chasing his little frog while Din holds his back so he doesn’t lose his balance

“Hey, you want this?” Din smiles fondly to the baby and with his long arm places the soft toy far away from him “C’mon like before “ his big hands on his side while the babe excitedly starts crawling towards his frog

“Hey! look! he’s getting faster!”

You smile at them, that big and serious man has the proudest smile, so bright and pure watching your baby grow before his eyes.

It’s been almost a week and he’s still repairing the car, or so he says. The manager hasn’t asked any questions and just assumed they are a family. And you must accept that you do look like one, a broken and weird one, but more than anything you have ever experienced.

And you wish he stayed forever that he could be a father to Greg, he certainly acts the part.

“Dinner is ready.”

The scent of the pines, the bugs chirping and the soft crackle of the fire is the perfect lullaby. Your baby has taken the habit of falling asleep against Din’s wide shoulder while the three of them enjoy the small porch outside the cabin.

“I think the car is ready”

The words you fear the most float in the air and you’re almost tempted to ignore them

“Hmm” you don’t face him yet, just look at the trees and try to swallow the pain “And where will you go?”

“Don’t know yet”

“How will I contact you?”

“I…”

“Do I have to search on Craigslist? Some old codewords in the newspaper? How do you even find a bounty hunter?” you’re laughing, but it really doesn’t hide the pain in your tone

“I have a phone” Din rolls his eyes at you but he’s amused, surprisingly he’s smiling more since you met him, he’s not that stern or cold as you pictured him when he caught you

“That would have come in handy when we were lost in the desert”

“I mean a fixed one”

“You have a house then?” you turn to him, lowering your voice midsentence as you see your son sleeping peacefully on Din’s arms

“Sort of”

“I will need you to expand that a little bit more Din”

Din in the quiet of the night, the moon, the stars and the fire illuminating your face he admires you pronounce it: The tip of your tongue showing softly between your teeth and he wishes to see you repeat it one, twice a thousand times.

“My family, my...it’s difficult to explain, anyway, it’s my safeplace, where I go to rest, I get the information for my next jobs, etc”

“Oh...okay, so I call you there?”

“Yeah you could, and write if you want” he offers with pleasing eyes

“Penpals, great” you answer and it sounds more sarcastic that you intended

“You could send me pictures of Greg”

Din lowers his eyes to the soft crown of the baby, that soft place on his head where he smells so sweet and tender. He can believe that he’s going and there will be no nights like this.

“I will do”

Your eyes get teary watching him softly kiss you babe, carrying to his crib whispering sweet words so he doesn’t wake up.

“So I’ve packed many water bottles, and those protein bars in case you get yourself lost in the desert again, cowboy. Sadly you won’t have my unparalleled company” you joke tapping him on his arm

“No, I won’t” Din forces a smile “I...Take care” he awkwardly squeezes your forearm

“You too-Shit!” you scream slapping your forehead “The sandwiches! I knew I forgot something. I made you something for lunch. I’ll be right back”

You press little Greg to Din’s arms before running away leaving them with wide eyes and a confused look

“Take care of you mother, kid, sometimes she can be a lot to handle”

“Hi, Ken” you say breathly as you storm inside the reception and get inside the staff meeting room.

“Hi! Has your boyfriend left already?” He asks while writing something on his agenda

“Not yet” you say looking for the lunch bag you had prepared inside the fridge. You hand stops midway when you heard her voice

It is horrible, we have not consolation, our baby has been kidnapped and we have no information

Her fake cries fill the room, some national tv is making a report on the kidnapping of little Greg. The tragic zoom at her face fades away when they show a picture of your baby.

“Fuck…” you mutter

I need him back. He’s my baby

“He’s not your baby, you bitch” you spat under your breath

“What did you say, hun, you need something” Ken raises his eyes to you, one eyebrow arched, he follows your eyes to the TV

“That baby looks exactly…” and then you know

You grab your sandwich bag and strom out as you did before. Din is holding Greg on his hip while he finishes loading the trunk with his bags

“We’re out of here”

You cry when you reach to him, pushing him away, you close the trunk door

“Wait what happened?”

“No time, let’s go”

How has this man trusted you so much as to run away with you? For all he knows you could actually be a kidnapper, that story about leaving your son with someone you trusted and that eventually you discovered that they were assholes could be fake. But he doesn’t. He runs away, drives and drives without asking a question.

“She had the guts to say it was his son, he isn’t. She barely had it for a few months until I could settle my life. And then she asked me for a crazy amount of money because children are expensive you know I fucking payed for a a new pool in her stupid house, while my son was always dressed in old clothes, too big or too small. They didn’t care for him”

And on top of trusting you, he lets you rant away all you anger

“There’s no way I’m giving him back. I rather die!”

He stops the car, the road again is silent, dressed in the colors of the sunset

“Calm down, you’re scaring him” Greg looks at you with trembling lips not knowing why he should be scared or angry, he just knows that his mama is upset “He will stay with you, I promise”

“The police must be searching for us” your warm tears cloud your eyes

“They won’t find us where we are going”

He ditches the car somewhere and you see him burning it. He carries the big bag on his back and hands you water and snacks from time to time.

“Just a few miles more”

The red stone looks like some ethereal cathedral around you, a palace in the middle of nowhere almost like another world, magical and eerie. If there’re marks or signs you don’t see them, but Din walks among the rock so sure of his steps searching among the labyrinth of rocks. And suddenly…

You hear the soft clicks of many guns' trigger locks going off at the same time. But Din softly whistles some tune and from all over: up the rocks, between them, children come out. Kids, all different from one another, some really young, others tall and weirdly looking teenagers in that mixed age where they are not a child nor an adult and others already grown to be young adults.

“Din” a curly haired girl dressed with camouflage clothes runs towards him with open arms, she has a crooked smile as she has lost some of her front teeth

“Hey, gumball!” Din bents down when she hugs him, her sweet face pressed against his belly

“Who are they?” a boy, holding a shotgun to his side, his face full of red dots, frowns at you

“They’re friends who need help” Din explains raising one of his arms trying to calm down the group

“Are they lost too?” Gumball asks

“Yes” Din nods

“But she’s a mum” some kid screams from above

“Mums can be lost too. C’mon, we’ve been walking for hours, can we go home?” he answers

“Of course, let’s go. Boba will be happy to see you” Gumball grabs Din’s hand and smile widely jumping happily through the stone corridors

“Wait, Din, what the fuck? who the fuck is Boba? What are these kids doing here?”

Gumball fires a concerned look at you

“She said two bad words”

“Gonna let it pass, Gum, she’s a bit scared and tired” Din smirks your way and you question in silent muttering the fuck again and again

“I see you pronouncing it, you know?” Gumball rolls her eyes “No bad words or you pay the price”

“Yes, understood, sorry” you close your lips hard trying not to ask more questions until you arrive home or whatever that is.

After a few minutes of turning left right, left right, right left you’re completely lost until the stone towers open up a way to a plain and on it, a ranch.

Some horses roam around nibbling on the pale green grass that grows on the land. A house on the centre is painted white but the paint looks old and chipped.

Now in the clear you count the children that surround you, ten, ten kids in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to the Watch” Din smiles at you, he almost look shy and earning a upset look from Gumball, he releases her hand and holds you with his big palm on your back

“What is this place, Din?”

“Home” he simply answers

The kids run through the porch screaming and opening without a care the door to the house

“Yeah, I heard you, little heathens” a masculine voice screams from the interior

His hard steps clack on the ground and you hear the spurs before you see him arriving with his leather boots, his used jeans and a low cowboy hat covering him from the sun

“I thought something must have happened to you” he says, evaluating Din. His tanned face is covered by a long and twisted scar from his lip to his forehead, he has dark eyes like Din but colder in a way, very deep and when they fall into you, you hug your baby tightly without thinking it

“I see” he says “C’mon on in, that baby can’t stay too long in the sun”

The house is nice, surprisingly tidy given the fact that there are ten kids living in it. The furniture looks like the exhibit of an old auction house, each one of them completely different of style, color or age from the other.

The man that everyone call Boba gives some orders to the group and they efficiently start doing what he asks

“Prepare a room for our guests”

“Bring water and food”

“Prepare some fresh fruit for the baby”

You sit, little Greg with eyes wide open. As any baby he’s absorbed by all the children around him, and he reaches with his little hands trying to grab them

“Little fella wants to play, you can leave him on the rug if he wants to”

“He’s fine here, thanks” you say holding him although Greg is already removing your hands from him wanting to explore

“Boba, we have nowhere to go” Din explains sipping on his cold water

“I guess, you have never brought anybody here” He reclines himself on his rocking chair watching Din intenly

“We need to protect them for a while, until we can find a solution”

“You’ll be safe here, you know that, you can stay as long as you want, just respect the house rules” and he points to a wood board, engraved in them are a few rules

Be respectful of yourself and others

I finish my tasks as promised, ask for help if I can’t

I will not curse

Be clean of yourself and your environment

Protect your family and your house above all

“They seem...pretty logical, won’t be a problem to follow them” you smile uncomfortably

“Well, somebody said you have a potty mouth, young lady. So watch it, but for the moment, you may rest, we will see for the rest tomorrow” He sighs when he gets up and taps on Din’s shoulder before he goes to the kitchen

“Let’s make dinner” you hear him scream, before the rumbling of pans and chopping and children screaming start

“Din…” you say after a moment

“I know you have a million questions”

“Duh!” you laugh nervously

“This is my family, we’re not related by blood but by circumstances. Lost kids, abandoned, neglected; we have a safe place here and in time we go out in the world and make our own life but we always have the Watch over us. A place where we’re watched over, taken care of, listened…” his caramel eyes glow and you see his strong and stern facade crumble before your eyes, in this place he can relax. He feels safe so you can too, right?

“We’ll be fine here” He reaches for you hand, the one that holds little Greg caressing him with your thumb, and covers both of you squeezing softly

We, it’s the second time he has referred to you as a group, you and me and Greg, We.

“We’ll be fine” You smile back, lowering your face, you kiss his knuckles, leaving a warmth there Din will be holding for hours.

You don’t notice, but the whole time during dinner he passes his thumb over that small place of his skin where you kissed him.

(Hey! remember when you read that fic in May? I continued it...so sorry that it took so long, I've taken the liberty of tagging you since you were interested in a follow up from the first one @fangirlalexia @childrenofthewatch )

[trojc-rewrite]

The Rise of Jimmy Casket Rewrite, Chapter 6

TW - grotesque imagery, gore

——————————————————————————

The morning had gone pretty smoothly, downing eggs and water early in the morning so Ghost could rent a car and bring Toast to the nearest walk-in clinic, and then brought him to a nearby hospital for stitches. The wound needed at least 4, and Toast was grossed out by how the stitches looked in his skin, the way his wound felt tight whenever he moved his leg. It made his face wrinkle in grimace.

Toast sat in the car on the way back from the hospital, still recovering from the anasthasia, everything felt light and yet so heavy, his eye lids threatened to fall, and he was sure he was making absolutely no sense whatsoever cause Ghost chuckled at everything he said.

Some weird pop song played on the radio, filling a silence that Toast didn’t even register was there. It wasn’t until Ghost started talking that he realized the quiet.

“Hey, Toast.” Toast turned to him, his head felt weird when he moved, like instead of a brain he had a bowl of cold soup in his head. But he forced himself to look serious, he was starting to calm down from the anasthasia anyways, so he could manage something of the nature.

“Yes, sir?” He mumbled out, it took a lot to form an articulated sentence, one that actually made sense.

Ghost parked in the hotel parking lot, sighing a small bit.

“Toast, I just want to apologize again. I am so sorry for leaving you to deal with P.I.E, it was such a shitty move on my part.” Ghost said.

“No, no sir, it's all right.” He managed. Ghost shook his head.

“No, it’s not.” He said, frustrated. He grabbed Toasts hands in his own, sighing. “Look, let me apologize because we both know this never happens. I’m sorry, for being such a shitty friend and boss. You, whether I like or not, are now kinda the leader. And I’ve been feeling like shit for leaving you to deal with it. I’m sorry.”

Toast blinked, kind of shocked. He blinked, not really knowing what to say.

“I accept your apology sir. But now that we’re all together, we need to start working as a team. And, if I may add this in, you might want to apologize to Spooker and especially Colon for leaving sir.” Toast said quietly.

Ghost raised his brow, staring at him with his green eye.

Toast nodded, “They were very hurt when you left. They look up to you. Colon was just telling me about his frustrations with you just the other night. “

Ghost looked lost, “But what would I say?”

Toast smiled at him. “You’ll know when the time comes. It will be genuine.”

Ghost licked his teeth nervously, before nodding. “Okay, lets go get Colon and Spooker. A walk will do us good.”

Ghost helped Toast up to the hotel room, getting ready for the walk. It had been a while where Toast could just relax, and he was hyped for a nice walk.

They walked late into the night, watching the sun go down behind the trees as the sky melted from blue, to purple and gold. The moon hung high over head, so clear and bright. It casted silver shadows across the forest floor, leaves dappling the light.

Toast was walking with Colon, the tall man helping him support himself. He also took a few times to point out an animal or two.

One time, a doe had crossed their path with a fawn in toe and they all had to pretend they weren’t there. Afterwards, Spooker had almost melted into the ground, crying about how cute it was.

The leaves above them ruffled, a cold gasp of air rolling over them. Toast smiled, feeling refreshed.

A small stream trickled near them, a few leaves following the current. Frogs hopped over the rocks, moonlight reflecting off the cloudy water.

Spooker turned to the stream, his eyes round in awe. “Oh my God! Frogs!” He whispered excitedly. He knelt down, his knees squelching in mud. He held out his hand, reaching out for a frog. The frog jumped into the water before he could catch it.

He turned to another, and another, until finally. “Aha! I got one!” He whispered, picking up the frog gently. The green amphibian let out a small ribbit, hopping around in his palms.

“I’m gonna name you, Fredrick.” He cooed, petting the amphibians back. Ghost made a disgusted face.

“Ew- you’re naming it after yourself?” He said, raising a brow. Spooker stuck out his tongue, gently putting the frog back in the grass.

“No. My name is Fred.” He emphasized, “The frog's name is Fredrick.”

Ghost rolled his eye jokingly, a smile cracking onto his face ever so slightly.

“Well I for one, love Fredrick.” Toast said with a smile, watching the frog hop away.

“Thank you T-“

Spooker was cut off by a loud rustling noise, coming from far ahead. Toast snapped his head up, glaring into the dark. His fight of flight senses kicked in, his only instinct to protect his friends.

He limped forwards, being careful not to step on any twigs, or anything else that would cause a loud noise. Moss squished under his feet, splashing quietly.

Ghost hissed from behind him, “No, Toast!” He whispered. Toast ignored him, pulling out his gun from his side holster.

He entered a thicket, wet leaves pointed at him. He felt uneasy, and jumped as a bug flew past his face.

Then, with the speed of a snake, something lunged from the bushes with a wide, yellowed smile.

He was pushed to the ground, his gun knocking out of his hand. He rolled over, pain blasting throughout his body.

He grabbed it, sitting up and fired. The shot rang out, Toast’s ears rang with silence, the world going quiet.

The shadowy figure stood in mist that seemed to come from nowhere, eyes staring at him from the fog.

It loomed over him, walking forward.

“Hey Toaster. It’s been a while!” It whispered excitedly, it’s red eyes wide.

It leaned forward, it’s face close to his. It smelled like rotting flesh; the acrid smell hitting him in the face. Sour and rotten.

It’s skin was pale, cheek bones exposed. It had matted, dark brown hair. Dirt covered it’s cheeks, a thin lipped smile crossed it’s face.

Toast blinked, shuffling away from it.

“Who- what?” He asked. Confusion clouded Toast’s gaze. ‘Who is this?’

The figure frowned. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me! But, it’s been a while since I’ve been in this form. So allow me to introduce myself.”

He stuck out his pale hand, long bloody fingernails pointed at him.

“Jimmy Casket. World renowned murderer.”

Toast let out a long, shuddering breath. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Jimmy’s frame was thin, long arms covered in bandages. He wore an unzipped blue hoodie, tattered at the edges, sleeves rolled up. Under the hoodie was a red shirt. His clothes were all bloodstained and crusty, hardened from dried fluids.

His eyes had yellow and red around the outsides, sunken in with deep eye bags. A long, sickly scar crossed the side of his face. It pulled up his lip, exposing his reddened gums and teeth base. They were blackened at the roots. Stringy saliva webbed between his teeth as he opened his mouth.

He laughed, blood splattering on Toast’s clothes. Toast gagged, fighting off the urge to vomit.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jimmy smiled wider, his sunken eyes growing wide with manic. His breath stank like carrion, blood bubbling from the back of his throat.

“To watch you suffer, until you die!” He cackled.

Suddenly Jimmy’s body jerked to the side, blood splattering on the side of his head. He staggered to the side, trying to catch his balance. His eyes grew empty.

Ghost jumped through the bushes, charging for the spirit. Colon came out with his gun drawn, Spooker rushing to Toast’s side.

“I’m okay!” Toast said urgently. Spooker helped him up as Colon shot at Jimmy, blood splattering on his outfit.

The spirit fell to the ground, his eyes empty. The two investigators breathed heavily, blood on their outfits.

Colon and Ghost turned to Toast, eyes round and horrified. “You dumbass!” Ghost yelled.

Colon rolled his eyes, putting his gun back in his holster.

“I’ll be okay don- COLON LOOK OUT!” Toast screamed.

Jimmy lunged onto Colon, grappling him from the back. His long nails digging into his face. Ghost turned, grabbing Colon's hand and ripping him from the ghost. Toast pulled out his gun again.

“Get away from us you bastard!” Toast cried, aiming the gun at him.

Jimmy laughed, raising his hands. He gave him a sly look.

“Didn’t you guys just ‘kill’ me, do you think a gun is going to do anything to me?” He said slyly.

Ghost bared his teeth. “What do you want you ugly fucker?” He said, pulling out his pocket knife.

Jimmy gave him a semi injured look.

“Look, you guys can’t kill me.” He said, with somewhat of a suave energy.

“You can’t kill a highly leveled ghost with puny human weapons. The only way to kill me is to be a ghost yourselves.” He laughed, his head rearing back in estaticsm.

“The only way to get rid of me is for me to be inside one of your minds again! Or else I’ll be here forever, picking all of you off one by one.” He said with an evil grin.

Ghost faltered, his angry expression twitching to hopelessness.

Jimmy loomed closer to Ghost, his face inches away from his. He looked angry, but betrayal lingered in the ghost’s red eyes.

“Until none of you are left.” He whispered angrily.

Ghost stared at him, cowering under his gaze. His eye was wide, eyebrows furrowed. Jimmy looked angry, yet sly.

Ghost stammered. “I- I-“

Toast took his arm, “Let’s go!” He yelled.

Colon shot at Jimmy again, hitting him with a bullet in the eye. Jimmy staggered backwards, letting out a cry of pain as red hot blood squirted from his face. He grabbed his face, anger filling his face.

Toast grabbed Spooker by the arm and they ran through the forest. Leaves got in his way, he narrowly dodged them.

Jimmy yowled from yards behind them, sprinting after them. Toast's feet barely hit the ground as he ran. Ghost ran beside him, panting wildly.

Colon ran behind them, his gun trained on Jimmy, occasionally shooting. Spooker looked hopeless, wanting to help Colon.

They reached the hotel room, slamming the door behind them. They all waited in tense silence, everyone keeping their eyes on the door.

After about 20 minutes of staring, Toast let out a sigh and fell onto the bed. “I think we’re okay.” He said.

Ghost screwed his eye shut, a sob escaping his throat.

“What are we going to do?!” He yelled, throwing a pillow at the wall.

For once, Toast did not have an answer.

——————————————————————————

FINALLY, we get to see the dude in the NAME OF THE FUCKING STORY!!!

[donkey-hyuck]

word count- 2,710

genre- the nightmare before christmas! au (if that makes sense) || fluff || suggestive || mayb angst

characters/pairing- jack skellington! jaehyun x sally! reader || nct

warnings- suggestive scenes || does not really follow the storyline of tnbc tbh || lowercase intended || dialogue heavy!! || lmao i used festival so much || obvs if you’re v religious and don’t celebrate halloween, don’t read it pls and ty although this is purely fictional

a/n- lmao just watched the nightmare before christmas on disney+ and it gave me some inspo ;) also i love tim burton films :)) the divider is by @/firefly-graphics i’m just a pussy lmao

jaehyun was the official representative of halloween. well, halloween in your town, specifically. although he is known throughout the globe, he celebrates the special occasion in his hometown. but during the past few years, jung jaehyun had gotten bored. bored with the ongoing festivities and the same traditions. yet he didn’t want to disappoint his people, whether he knew them or not, the citizens of all ages looked up to the halloween king.

“hurry, hurry! jung jaehyun is on his way! i repeat, the halloween king is on his way!” shouted the mayor, while all the villagers were frantic to make everything perfect for this year's halloween festival.

“hurry, hurry! jung jaehyun is on his way! i repeat, the halloween king is on his way!” shouted the mayor, while all the villagers were frantic to make everything perfect for this year's halloween festival.

and as soon as the gates opened, everyone was rushing and screaming, finally being able to see jung jaehyun himself. the crowd cheered as he waved and greeted the people he oh so loved. but he was getting tired of the same old thing. for every halloween since he’d been born, the man was always left alone. the fellow women and men fawned over him, he was drop dead gorgeous, no doubt. but he wanted something more, something passionate, someone who he could love and trust, not just a one night fling.

so while everyone was cheering, you had been sitting on the farest point of the street. your creator, lee donghyuck, had no intention of seeing the man himself. although donghyuck loved jung jaehyun, he wanted to be back home, well rested and well fed. only you wanted to see jaehyun up close.

whenever jung jaehyun was invited to the lab, or came to stop by, donghyuck would always keep you locked up, and so you were never able to meet him.

“but i want to go see…. mark. he’s up with the crowd,” you begged your creator. he only held your arm back and refused to let you walk up the street without his consent. and after fighting back, you unstitched your arm to let go of the pressure and quickly ran to the closest thing you could hide behind, in hopes of getting away from donghyuck, and in chances of seeing jung jaehyun.

you had a slight feverish crush on the man, but who didn’t? even so, almost the entirety of your town loved jaehyun in one way or another. so you were pretty much hopeless. a hopeless romantic, as some would say.

hearing the shouting of donghyuck approach you, straight away, you headed toward the cemetery. a safe place, somewhere you were able to hide, to get away from your life as a creation.

while running to the farthest point of the cemetery, jaehyun had been cornered by the women of all ages.

“jaehyun, i can give you what you want. what you need,” said a young woman.

“oh don’t mind her. i can set you up with my granddaughter, a very beautiful and successful entrepreneur,” bribed an older woman.

“forget them! jung jaehyun, i will devote my entire life to you. for us to be together forever,” begged another.

he looked astonishing that night he came back. with his hair nicely styled, and his all black outfit bringing out his physique and tattooed self. no wonder why all the women were all up in him. but he was a family man, and the children had also been disturbing him as well.

“jaehyun! look what i did for the festival tomorrow.”

“look at what i can do! i’ll be as strong as the halloween king one day.”

“look at my sister jaehyun! isn’t she pretty?”

he loved the attention, but sometimes he wished they would leave him be. he had a life. a really hectic and busy life.

“we’re doing the first bunch of raffles today! get ready to collect them!” announced the mayor over his speaker, making everyone turn their heads and jaehyun to run the opposite direction, towards the cemetery.

you and he shared the same safe place. it was quiet and there was barely anyone around, so it was a good place to take a breather and relax.

planning to eventually go back to the lab, you picked some gardenias to put in donghyuck’s soup for later. hearing the district voice calling for his dog, you hid behind a tombstone and listened to the halloween king.

“zero! come here,” he patted his upper thigh. the spirit of his dog then arose from the ground and barked as jaehyun smiled and picked up a branch from the ground. he then started to say aloud, “oh, zero… i love this community very much. everyone is so welcoming and friendly, especially during the halloween season. but i just feel so suffocated. it’s the same event every year for the past four years. i want something new. i need someone new.”

you felt connected to him, in a way. the two of you were broken souls, ready to find anew; yet it never came. and it felt like it would never come. you were attentive of his wants because you were on the same boat, sort of.

as much as you loved lee donghyuck, he was very strict and it was too throttling in the lab which made you venture to the cemetery and gather gardenias to help him doze off faster.

peering through the corner of the large tombstone, you saw him standing on the edge of the cliff, playing with zero and talking to himself. while he was paying no attention whatsoever, you quietly exited the cemetery and walked the way to donghyuck’s lab.

you sauntered through the front door and walked directly to the kitchen to crush the gardenias before he was to ask for his soup.

“oh y/n!” he said in a singsongy voice, he entered the kitchen to see you stirring up a boiling pot of frogs breath soup, his favorite, with a gardenia touch.

“i’m almost done, master haechan. it’ll be up in a minute!” you spoke over your shoulder before mixing in the dash of gardenia powder into his bowl. he willingly smiled and walked back up into his research laboratory.

after the finishing touches and a sprinkle more of the gardenia powder, you brought the soup up to his room and let him gobble down the soup with a blink of an eye before going to your room— or what you called prison— to pack a basket of goodies to give to jaehyun, anonymously. but first, you sewed your arm back on.

in the basket, contained a bottle of red wine, a block of cheese, and some baked bread from the bakery down the road. as well as a not that read, ‘i know how you feel, and i’m on the same boat as you. i wish there was a way for us to escape.’

popping your head through the research lab door, you confirmed that donghyuck was knocked out cold, and should be for the next two hours.

silently, you sneakily passed through the townspeople and made it to jaehyun one hell of a house. it was on the other side of town, so by the time you reached his home, it was already evening. lee donghyuck must’ve woken up, for sure.

after you entered the gate, regret instantly filled your body. but you traveled all this way, so there was no point in stopping now. carefully, you placed the wooden basket on the doorstep and rang the door, hiding behind the wall.

jaehyun opened the door, ready to greet whoever was visiting him at that time, only to be met with no one but the basket filled with delicacies and a note. picking up the basket, he read the note, and a small smile appeared on his face before walking back into his house and closing the door.

you had been holding your breath the moment you hid behind the wall. and when the coast was clear, you breathed out the breath you had been holding, only for you to suck it back in when zero was sitting by your feet, looking up at you with his face turned. then, he barked.

“no, no, no! shhh. i don’t want him to know i’m here. please be quiet,” you pleaded while whispering. yet to no avail, as the door is opened once more because he heard his beloved dog.

“zero! zero where are you? i heard you barking, let’s go inside!” he walked around his property and finally checked the place where you were previously hiding.

“there you are. let’s get you some rest.” but zero looked to where you hid next, behind a boulder statue.

“come on, let’s go,” he patted his leg, and this time zero obliged.

“whew,” you huffed out while slowly getting up from your hiding place to walk back to the lab.

but as you were cautiously walking out of his property, jung jaehyun saw you exit his gate through his peripheral vision, he then looked to the basket he placed on his desk. and in that moment, he had to know who you were.

the next day during the halloween festival, you’d been punished for putting gardenias in his soup as well as sneaking out. donghyuck locked you up in your room and the only thing you could do was look out the window to see the villagers enjoy their time.

jaehyun had woken up early that morning, to get ready to find his secret admirer he hoped was going to be at the festival. he dressed as nicely as he could, making sure to gel back his hair and wear a nice suit for the occasion. he then stuck the note you gave him inside the pocket of his blazer. and he knew what he was getting himself into. if he were to ask anyone who knew about the note, they would lie and say they did. but it was worth a shot.

he vividly remembered your pin straight hair, reaching down your back, as well as those tiny black heels that were about two inches high. but that was all he did remember and he was unfortunate enough to not be able to see your face.

so, jaehyun just observed.

when he reached the main part of the festival, crowds of townspeople filled the street, excited for the day to come. and when people started to notice the halloween king was there, they gathered around him and showed him everything there was possible. however, jaehyun knew it was just all the same activities and booths. everything that just tired him out. they needed something new, something fresh.

“jaehyun! you’re here early,” said the mayor, but the man was not paying attention, rather he was maneuvering his head around, trying to spot ‘the one.’ noticing this, taeyong bumped him on his shoulder, now worried.

“... is everything alright?” asked the mr. lee in an anxious voice. to which jaehyun just smiled reassuring the mayor.

“everything is perfectly fine, mr. lee! but to keep this between you and me…” he paused for a moment, looking around and taeyong leaned closer to jaehyun. “.... i’m sorta looking for someone. she gave me this note yesterday and as well as a bag of goodies.” but the mayor was surprised by his statement, and he screamed louder than he should’ve.

“woah, woah! the halloween king has a crush on someone? you have a secret admirer!” he tried to hush him but it was too late, the people had already heard.

questions started to arise and the people started to gather around jaehyun again. asking when, where, and more commonly, who. he refused to answer the uprising interrogations and ran the farthest he could.

he ended up hiding in the bushes of lee donghyuck’s lab. when he was sure there was no one who had been following that far, he stood up from the bush and dusted himself off. it seemed like he got ready for purely nothing.

the man paced back and forth, rereading the note you had given him and throwing small stones to the wall of the lab. hearing all the commotion, you gazed out the window to see jung jaehyun, reciting the note over and over again. you listened for a bit, until you remembered the throwing stones part.

“..... you know… master haechan will be upset if he finds you chucking rocks at his lab,” you spoke up as he chuckled at the sentence. he looked up to where the voice was to be already met with your chin resting on your crossed arms, looking down to him.

“calm down, it’s only stones. besides, the professor loves me,” he bragged. “what are you doing up there anyways? shouldn’t you be at the festival?” he asked with his brows furrowed.

“yeah, but i disobeyed the master yesterday. got stuck locked up.” you didn’t know you had the confidence to have a regular conversation with the man you’ve always admired. jaehyun only smiled and replied, “how about i save you then, princess?” your pulse was racing, and you didn’t know how to feel. after a few moments of silence, you looked back down.

“master haechan is at the festival. probably with the mayor or his great uncle taeil. if you ask, he’ll probably give you the master key.” jaehyun nodded and ran back to the scene of the festival to find the professor to bail you out.

when he came back, he immediately opened the front door and walked up the stairs to try and find you. but when he was gone to look for donghyuck, you’d been pacing around your room, anxious. why did you tell him? you thought to yourself over and over. but every one of your thoughts came to a stop when the jiggling of the key became clear. you were really doing this.

somehow, you were more afraid of getting caught that day than the previous. if donghyuck knew jaehyun came to get you out, you’d be in much bigger trouble.

he was finally able to hear the click and opened the door. a full smile plastered on his face, showcasing the dimples people fawned over. shyly, you smiled back and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear catching me do the debby ryan HAHAHA.

jaehyun held out his hand and instantaneously he knew, you were the one. without any further conversation, he dragged you to the place he loved; the cemetery.

while talking about no specific topic, he brought up the shenanigan you pulled yesterday, although he was grateful you did.

“so, were you the one that stopped by last night? and gave me the basket…” he ceased his walking, “who gave me this note?” he pulled the note from inside his blazer. if you thought your anxiety was bad when he was bailing you out, it did not compare to the amount of anxiety you were feeling in that moment.

“...uh… yes i did... did you not like it?,” you stuttered, getting jittery. he only cooed in adoration as he cupped your cheek. “don’t worry, my love. you’re the first one to ever give me a gift that thoughtful. even gave me my favorite red wine.” his response made you sigh out of relief as he just smiled softly and rubbed his thumb against your cheekbone. it was an intimate moment. but slowly, jaehyun found himself leaning closer and closer to you.

grazing his lips against yours he whispered, “thank you,” and pushed himself closer to your lips, catching the gasp that escaped your lips. you were left shocked, with your eyes wide opened and your figure stood there awkwardly, not kissing back. but the man grabbed you by your waist, gently, and his other hand rested on your jawline as you responded back.

it was a slow, yet needy kiss. desperate to have each other but savoring the moment. his tongue met your bottom lip as he turned his head to kiss you deeper, his nose now tickling your right cheek. he then stopped and removed his lips with a pop.

“i think i found my escape this halloween,” he was breathless.

“i think i did too.”

[hognosesnakehalloweenfest]

Oct 4: A Forest of Hollow Trees

By Ophelia (solar-wind on AO3,@solar-cactus on tumblr) The seasons change, the leaves changing with them, bringing about a time of color. The monotonous greens give way to bright oranges and reds, painting the forests and landscapes with an image of nostalgia. The vibrancy and loneliness of autumn flies in with the wind. The cool breeze carries leaves, dead and dying, across vast distances, left in piles at the base of trees. Crunch Snap A twig cracks.

Footsteps, light and airy and distinctly Other echo through the hollow woods. The near-silent whispers of ghostkind follow the boy; though he appears young, his age is well beyond the scope of human imagination. His black wings, as dark as a moonless night and equally as ethereal, flutter unconsciously behind him.

His companion, nothing but a faintly glowing blob, trails him; their form constantly shifts, though they seem to favor an appearance reminiscent of a floating bed sheet. The two creatures make their way through the woods, pausing every now and again to make idle conversation.

With every footstep, leaves crackle beneath the boy’s feet. As the daylight fades and the moon rises over the horizon, its light a faint sickle, the ghost’s glow brightens and casts shadows upon the trees. They flicker, elongating and waning.

Oh, autumn, a season of change and stagnancy. Dead leaves fall, a steady stream, and coat the ground in a beautiful blanket.

After some time passes, the two beings find themselves at the doorstep of a spider. They converse, and shortly thereafter, a bargain occurs: two large mushrooms from her garden for a branch from the Haunted Elm tree. She waves her leg in parting and closes the door.

The two continue on their journey.

Soon, they stop again, this time at the entrance of a snake’s burrow.

Knock, knock; the boy taps lightly against the rocks. She pokes her head through the dirt next to the large pile of rocks, forked tongue flicking.

Once again, they make a trade: the ghost hands her a particularly shining gemstone, and she, in turn, gives them bowls made from the wood of the Forest of the Bats.

They wave, and she nods her head, disappearing back into her hole.

The crunching leaves beneath the boy’s feet give way to dried grass, the trees thin out, and before long, the sickle moon can be clearly seen through the branches.

A crow calls.

The final stop before their destination is at a pumpkin patch. A friendly scarecrow meanders over at the sight of the ghost and the boy, waving hello from across the clearing.

The ghost hands over a small basket of apples, and in exchange, the scarecrow welcomes them into the field.

They hover a few inches above the ground while the boy steps lightly around the pumpkins. Pointing, the boy moves towards a particularly large pumpkin, and the ghost floats over, sitting on top of it. They smile, the boy laughs.

He picks the pumpkin and carries it to the edge of the field, the two of them waving a farewell to the kind scarecrow.

The path is lined with cobwebs, and the tree branches stretch into the sky like tangled bones. The woods are still lonely, but though seemingly devoid of life, they are far from empty. The forest thickens, the pathway littered with brown leaves and cushioned moss. A wind whistles through the branches, but, unflinching, the two carry on, clutching their pumpkin and small baskets of various treasures. They pass bats, clustered on branches, and the ghost bobs their head in passing towards the small gathering of fellow ghostkind off the edge of the path. They walk through a stretch of woods where no evidence of life is apparent except for the scattering of fallen tree trunks and animal footprints, though they feel as if eyes peer at them through the tree hollows.

After some time, they reach their destination: a clearing, perfectly, unnaturally, circular; a small ring of stones surrounding a table made of mushrooms. The boy places the pumpkin at the edge of the ring. The ghost drifts over, and as the boy strikes up a small fire, balancing the pumpkin above it, the ghost carves out the insides to make a large pot.

Into the pumpkin go the ingredients: apples, vegetables, water, bones for flavor. As the ghost spins their wooden ladle, the soup steams, swirling in an endless cycle, the scents wafting into the air to be carried away by the breeze.

When the soup is finished, the boy carries the bowls over to the mushroom and sets them gently on the top. He and the ghost sit, content, with the sound of an owl hooting, a crow cawing, the trees creaking and frogs ribbiting, a symphony, echoing throughout the night. A

nd as the soup steams, their chatter bubbles over into the autumn breeze. Life goes on, the leaves fall, and time moves ever onwards.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About the Author:

Ophelia is a 19 year old physics student who loves reading, writing, and everything about the autumn season. She has a passion for staying up far too late reading fanfiction and playing Minecraft, and has recently started some creative writing of her own! Ophelia has had so much fun with this Halloween event, and hopes that you enjoy the spooky season! <3

[daisybeewrites]

The Best Medecine

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluffflufffluff

requested? no i just needed to see daisy take care of daniel

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

PART 2!! idr have an authors note today, just enjoy :)

(gif not mine)

Daniel felt like crap. 

He had caught Daisy’s cold, and the effects were hitting him harder than a ton of bricks. 

Daisy had recovered fairly quickly after he smoothly convinced her to take the proper medicine and rest. They had a great few days where both of them felt alive and normal, not like zombie versions of themselves. Going grocery shopping (avoiding the soup aisle, they already had a freezer full), taking a day trip to hike the Eaton Canyon trail and picnic, testing out a new prosthetic Fitz designed, and pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch Grey’s Anatomy completed the week wonderfully.

Things were going great! Almost too great. Things never go this great in their universe. Which is why neither of them were surprised when Daniel shot up in bed at 4am sneezing, waking Daisy and, she joked, the rest of the street. He tried to go back to sleep, only to wake up with a loud achoo! ten minutes later. Daniel rubbed his forehead, the pressure centered between his eyebrows insisting that he was not going to get any sort of true rest that day. 

He told a sleepy Daisy that he felt fine, that he just needed a hot bath. It was probably just the spring allergies, right? Nothing to worry about, Daniel told himself as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, grabbing his crutches and lumbering to the bathroom. He splashed his face with warm then cold water before quickly checking that Daisy was asleep again, her silhouette rising with deep breaths, outlined in diffused blue light from the stars on the ceiling. Maybe he could shake this before it got too bad? Surely, it wouldn’t disrupt his routine too much?

Daniel quietly crutched to the soft couch, grabbing a blanket from the pile on the armchair. The flannel of the blankets and the comfortable give of the couch lulled Daniel into a restless sleep. 

Early morning turned to late morning turned to afternoon, Daniel only waking up from tossing and turning when Daisy shook him and offered a sinus pill, which he gulped down with an entire cup of cool water. Three ice cubes shaped like half moons knocked into each other as he tipped the cup back, letting the smooth liquid drown out the scratchiness in his throat.

A glance at the clock alarmed him, mentally calculating how long he slept. He noticed the second quilt that had been laid on top of him, the fleecy textile one Daisy frequently curled up with when she had a bad day. He could faintly smell her coconut and lavender conditioner. It tickled his nose.

“Sweetheart?” Daniel called weakly.

“Mmm?” Daisy hummed.

“I slept for fourteen hours?” Though he asked a question, his tone was almost a statement.

Daisy nodded, slightly smiling. “I think you caught my cold. Maybe cuddling so much wasn’t a good idea.”

Daniel chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw the flicker of worry in her eyes. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t regret any time spent helping you feel better, Daisy.”

She smiled, mirroring his expression. Their eyes both crinkled at the sides, happy gazes taking in the other. Daisy’s eyes still furrowed though, and Daniel cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the frog there before speaking. The action only scratched his throat, a string of coughs interrupting the couple’s staring contest. 

“Hey, could you bring me som—” Daniel was cut off by more crackling coughs. Daisy threw him a concerned glance. He could hardly keep his eyes open, hands clammy and forehead burning, body shaking with hacks. He could feel the dip in the cushion as Daisy moved to sit down beside him, resting her hand on his forehead. Her cool skin felt incredible on his. He understood why she liked it so much when he had done the same. 

He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the dry, itchy feeling and opting to focus on Daisy above him. She looked beautiful, like an angel, with airy morning light surrounding her and two messy braids running down her back. She was his angel. His angel was smirking at the way he leaned into her touch. 

“These?” she asked, as she held up a small, blue box of tissues. He nodded, swallowing thickly before sitting up and scooting back to lean against the rounded arm of the tan couch. Daisy laughed quietly. 

“What?”

She continued giggling, her small laugh growing a little.

“What’s funny?”

Daisy leaned forward and rested a hand on his thigh for balance. 

“You’re wearing those pajama pants I got you for Christmas,” she explained. He glanced down, recognizing the tiny planets of their solar system dyed into the plush fabric. “They’re cute on you.”

He smiled, gazing at Daisy. Then he sneezed. Luckily, he picked up a tissue and covered his face in time to not sneeze in Daisy’s face. Daisy leaned back, laughing. Daniel started to, too, a low rumble in his chest diffusing the nerves he had felt. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen him sick. There was that one time in space when he had almost gotten (unintentionally) poisoned by alien coffee, but that was an unpleasant memory he didn’t want to dwell on. Other than that, not a single sniffle had popped up. 

Daisy suddenly stood up and slid to the kitchen in sock feet, a large grin on her face.

“Dais, where’re you going?” he wondered out loud. 

“The kitchen, duh,” she replied as she slid to the soapstone countertops, grabbing a red and white box out of the counter. 

Daniel recognized it as Daisy’s favourite tea, she had bought it on a mission in South Africa and became enamoured with it. Sometimes Daniel would catch her up at odd hours of the night, when she couldn’t sleep, out on the back patio drinking a steaming mug of Rooibos. He knew it was her favourite, and it had slowly become his, too. Lately, they have made a habit out of winding down from long days at work with mugs in their hands, on the couch or in the backyard, red-amber liquid relaxing their minds and limbs. Those were some of his favourite times with Daisy, spent talking and drinking their tea and laughing at reruns of sitcoms.

The sound of hot water trickling into a mug pulled him out of his thoughts. The mug in question was one he had made for Daisy—large and hand painted, artsy flicks of white and yellow and blue serving as reminders of their time in space. That was a modern invention he was particularly fond of (paint your own pottery, not space). It was mesmerizing to watch the colored, chalky paint glide onto the ceramic surface. He often went to this local hole-in-the-wall café that let you paint one of their mugs and bring it home, for an extra charge. Their coffee and ‘old-fashioned southern’ biscuits were delicious.

Daniel stared as Daisy danced around the kitchen, her fishtails swishing and hips swaying. There was no music, just her. She dunked the tea bag in a couple times and let it steep. When the tea was ready, she poured in a squeeze of honey and grabbed a shiny green bottle of cough syrup, carefully walking over to the couch. Daniel gently took the mug from her, using the corner of the blanket as a barrier so as not to burn his hands. Daisy sat on the coffee table across from him, smiling as Daniel took a sip. 

“Hot!” he exclaimed.

“I know I am, you don’t have to tell me,” Daisy teased. “Do you want some ice cubes?”

“Jemma would disapprove,” Daniel shot back.

Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jemma has put up with my odd tea-drinking since 2013. I already made the tea wrong, might as well make it so that you won’t burn yourself trying to drink it.” 

Daniel watched Daisy laugh. As ill as he felt, Daisy just being there helped tremendously. The tea soothed his scratchy throat and her laugh sped up his heart. He knew the pink dust on his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to fever alone. 

The pair sat in silence for a while as Daniel finished the tea, thankful for the warm beverage. His headache was slightly dissipating, due to the tea or Daisy’s light aura he wasn’t sure. He sat the mug down on the table and leaned up to peck Daisy’s lips. She leaned in a bit putting her hand on his chest to pull away.

“How about that bath?”

“Only if you come, too,” Daniel whispered.

Daisy chuckled. “You, lover boy, are sick. If we keep this up, one of us is always going to be sick. And plus, I need you distracted while I make a surprise!”

Daniel perked up, his slight pout disappearing. “A surprise…?”

“Yes, Danny-boy, a surprise. Which means I can’t tell you, so sit here and I’ll go fill the tub and then you can feel the full effects of that chill pill.”

Daniel leaned towards Daisy, confused. “What chill pill?”

“This chill pill,” Daisy said, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his. Daniel’s head swam with the scent of her silky blonde hair and vanilla lotion. She gently rubbed her hands up and down his arms and over his shoulders. He took a moment to watch the twinkle in her eye, the warmth resonating through him. He felt the tension from staying on the couch all day slowly release, his arms coming to wrap loosely around Daisy’s back in an attempt to keep her there. She shook her head with a grin and sat up, easing off the couch.

Daisy kissed Daniel’s forehead before walking down the hall to the bathroom. Daniel watched her leave, conflicted. Shouldn’t he be able to take care of himself? He had for years, why stop now? It isn’t like he couldn’t fill up the tub, or cook or grab tissues, no matter how light headed he got. Why did she want to help him? ‘Because I love you, you stubborn square!’ Daisy would say. He could practically hear her protest, ‘Just let me take care of you! It won’t hurt!’

 If he was honest with himself, that’s all he wanted. 

So, he did.

Daisy came back into the living room, the faint sound of water rushing creating a comforting ambience. He didn’t have his leg on, as laying around all day didn’t require it and he was more comfortable without the prosthetic cramming against the back of the couch. He reached back and grabbed the pair of crutches that were leaned against the arm of the sofa. Daisy walked with him back to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t lose his balance due to dizziness from dehydration. Apparently, that was one reason Daisy had felt so horrible after her mission, she had been so busy taking down bad guys that she almost took herself down, too. Even knowing that dehydration isn’t contagious, neither of them wanted him falling into décor à la Daisy. 

They reached the bathroom, Daisy running to their room to grab an extra set of sweats for Daniel to put on once he was done. 

While she was rummaging through drawers, Daniel carefully undressed and got into the deep tub.

The bath felt incredible. He could smell the lavender from the fancy epsom salt that Daisy had gotten him wafting up from small waves he created. The water was warm, but not so hot that it burned and not so lukewarm that it would go cold in a few minutes. 

“Dais, this is first-class,” Daniel called. 

Daisy giggled a bit before responding. “First-class?”

“I know you’re poking fun, but thank you. It feels amazing.”

Daisy peeked her head around the corner, nodding. 

“I'm glad you like it. Now I'm gonna go fix that surprise. Yell if you need anything, k?”

Daniel nodded and relaxed his head back, muscles slowly easing their tension and his eyes softly closing. 

“Oh, shit!!”

Daniel startled, bath water dripping over onto the towels lining the tub. Daisy’s exclamation didn’t seem pained, but he couldn’t help his brow from creasing. He felt fairly rested, he wasn’t sure how long he had been napping in the water. It had gone from pleasantly warm to tepid, he guessed around thirty minutes at the most. 

“Dais, everything alright?”

Daisy paused before responding, “Yep! Got it all under control!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head, figuring it was probably time to get out and troop back to the living room, anyway.

He grabbed the grip-bar beside the tub and eased up, sitting on the edge before swinging his good leg around and stepping onto the floor. He grabbed a towel off his hook on the wall and started to dry off. Daisy had set a pair of comfy pants and a shirt on the counter, which he pulled on before grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen. Something smelled… burnt. 

He rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks. 

“Uh, Dais?”

“It’s burned, I know,” Daisy said, disconcertedly.

“Are you okay?”

Daisy was staring disappointedly at two bowls of seemingly okay soup. She gestured loosely to the sink, Daniel’s eye following. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I see.”

There was a large pot sitting in the sink, filled with greyish water, black bits glued to the bottom. 

“I’m sorry. I know cooking isn’t exactly my thing.”

Sousa smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. Daisy’s hands fidgeted, rubbing at her neck.

“Is the soup in the bowls good?”

Daisy looked him up and down, a twinkle of mirth in her eye, like she knew something he didn’t. She shrugged, “The char adds flavour.”

At that, Daniel grinned and stepped forward a little, leaning against the counter next to her. “I’m up for some extra flavour.”

Daisy looked over at him with an odd expression. “Even sick, never fails.”

Daniel responded immediately, “Through sickness and health.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide. 

“Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Daisy’s posture slumped a little as she hit his bicep. “Funny. You’re a funny, funny man.”

He nodded and felt a deep laugh in his chest. “I am very funny, yes.”

Daisy squinted her eyes at him, turning and picking up their bowls of soup to set on the kitchen island. She slid onto one of the backless bar stools that served as seats for when she didn’t feel like being fancy and eating at a table. Sousa took a moment before following, leaning his crutches against the cabinet after sliding onto the stool across from Daisy. He picked up a spoon and tasted the soup, swallowing down a grimace and giving her a thumbs up. 

“It's great!” Daniel exclaimed.

Daisy pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, tasting a spoonful. She was not as great at acting as Daniel was, and could barely keep herself from spitting it out.

“Oh, god, that’s awful!” Despite her wry expression, she was giggling as she picked her cell out of her pajama short’s pocket. Daniel eyed her, perplexed as Daisy hit a button in her .

“Yes, hi... Thank you. Can we get six egg rolls, a small veggie fried rice, a plate of crab wontons, and a small shrimp lo-mein?... Yes! Thank you!... Alright, we’ll be there in ten. Have a good evening!” Daniel watched as Daisy hung up, a bright grin slowly spreading across her face.

Daniel mirrored her, smiling wide. “Chinese food?”

“Yep,” Daisy nodded, popping the 'p'. 

Daisy slid lithely off the seat, grabbing the bowls of blackened soup and trashing them. She felt bad, throwing away food. She never got rid of food unless she absolutely had to. Old habits die hard. 

She turned around and gave Daniel a smile. She noticed that he wasn’t as pale, his face wasn’t as flushed and he wasn’t swaying like his head was full of air. Maybe she had helped more than she thought. They walked out to Daisy’s car, a metallic dark grey crossover with slightly tinted windows. Daisy got in on the drivers side, Daniel climbing into the passenger. She cranked the car and turned up the radio, checking that Daniel was okay. It was a slightly chilly evening, and the windows were rolled down just enough to let the air in. 

The evening felt great, the cool air and orange-pink sky refreshing their senses. Daniel’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Daisy. Even though he caught her cold, he had the feeling that Daisy was the best medicine. Lucky him.

Maybe things do go this great in our universe.

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awwwwwww, cuuuuuuute! as always, feel free to drop a request in my ask box (linked in the bio) or comment any thoughts!! thanks for reading!!