#i SPILLED the paprika

[vengeance-is-sworn]

Wanna finally sit down and watch a movie but I can’t relax knowing my kitchens a disaster but my back hurts so I don’t wanna spends the next 45 minutes cleaning so I’m just sitting here staring at the ceiling instead 😭

[winesvein]

How do you say I love you?

I say it like: be safe, text me when you're home. I learned how to steep your favourite tea so I could always make it just right. I keep the recipe for your grandmother's paella in the breast pocket of the jacket I borrowed from you and simply never returned.

—Kali, paprika

[bigwishes]

A Night at The Club

[Trade for: @bribri66]

It was a Friday night and Frank had just gotten off late from work and was driving down mainstreet out of the city. He saw a bright glowing neon sign coming up right before his turn. He'd never remembered it being there and he drove this way home every single night. The sign shone brightly "Men's Milk Bar" written in bright pink letters with the neon shape of a man in a cowboy hat under it.

Frank was slowly approaching the turn off to get on the road to go home or to turn into the car park of the new gay bar that had seemingly popped up in the middle of the day. Frank flicked his indicator on and turned off into the carpark of the gay bar almost without even realising.

Frank got out of his car and walked towards the building, he could hear the music pounding outside and could almost feel it through the ground as he got close, lights shined out of the windows and pinks and greens flashed around inside. Frank walked up to the front and saw an enormous muscular man blocking the door and next to him a long line of men. The giant man turned to Frank,

"What do you want Jelly Man?"

The bouncer laughed at Frank as he pocked his large fat stomach and dusted crumbs off his flannelette shirt.

Frank stared blankly at the door and the bouncer chuckled

"sure buddy, don't get lost in there"

The bouncer opened the door and a roar of moans erupted from the lines as Frank cut straight through. Light shot out of the open doors and the heavy thumping of music spilled out onto the streets and called Frank inside like a siren song. The large grizzled man clumsily stumbled inside almost like he was drunk.

Immediately walking through the door Frank was saw two dancers standing before him.

the two men were built like bulls and flaunted it with every movement they made. The both of them approached Frank.

"Well hi big boy" the first said rubbing Frank's shoulders

"We don't get many guys like you in here" the second said patting Frank's fat belly

Frank blushed embarrassed trying to get the words out as the two dancers paraded themselves around him and rubbed up against him. Frank became more and more flustered as the two ripped men toyed and teased with him, slight comments about his guy, his hairy face, his stained and worn out work clothes. Frank wanted to react to being borderline bullied but he couldn't focus as he felt his dick desperately try to uncurl against the tightness of his jeans.

"I don't think our friend hear likes how loud it is Georgie"

"I think you're right Joey"

The two dancers smiled at each other as they ran their hands down Frank's arms, taking his hands in theirs. The two lead Frank through the crowds of men dancing to the music to a large pink stained glass heart shaped door. There was a small neon sign above it the read "Love Factory". The sign pulsed like a heart beat. The two dancers opened the doors and took Frank inside. As the doors closed the music almost completely shut out like the room was sound proof.

Frank walked over to a heart shaped bar stool and sat down, it squeaked and moaned clearly not built for a man of his size.

Georgie walked over to Frank and leant his arms against his lap making the chair squeak even more. Frank's face turned a deep red as he was eye to eye with the almost naked man leaning on him.

"I know you wanna be with us big guy" said Georgie poking his tongue in his cheek

"and I know you wanna be like us big guy" Joey smirked as he pulled something out of a small fridge tucked in the corner.

"Should we Joey?"

"I think we should Georgie"

The two devilishly smiled at one another as Joey placed a glass pint full of ice cold strawberry milk in Frank's hands

"All you need to do big guy is have a drink"

"and we're all yours"

Frank looked down at the milk, slowly brining it up to his lips, his gaze meeting the two dancers as he started to drink. It tasted like strawberries mixed with something with a slight spicy tang, like paprika. It fizzed and bubbled in his mouth and in his throat.

The two dancers began rubbing themselves against Frank, gentle touches slowly turning into groping and kissing. Frank couldn't focus on anything, he tried his best to entertain the the advances of the two dancers but there was only so much of him to go around, and he couldn't focus as there was a strange feeling in his stomach and an terrible itching spreading across his body.

Frank desperately tried to keep up with the two men whilst taking breaks to scratch and itch. He tried to ease the annoyance but whenever to began to itch his face or under his shirt the dancers quickly distracted him pulling his hands away, but every now and again, when he got the chance he felt different. The deep black hair on his face and across his body was getting light and lighter, thinning up, the chunky weight and layer of fat on his gut, chest and arms started to feel tighter and tighter. Even his raspy voice sounded slightly lighter as he moaned.

A few moments later and Frank began to feel dizzy, the tang and bubbling that took place in his throat and mouth had made its way to his brain, it felt like tiny fireworks were going off in his head. Frank slumped slightly on the stool as his dirty flannel work shirt slipped off his arms and back onto the floor. Frank tied to speak but instead of words coming out his mouth simply fell open and bubbly giggles came out instead.

Georgie was standing in front of Frank holding his wallet.

"Looks like his name was Frank, Joey"

"Hmmm he doesn't look like a Frank now"

Frank mindlessly rubbed his face which now felt baby smooth

"What about Frankie?" asked Georgie

"Oh I like that, what do you think Frankie" Joey asked the man formerly known as Frank

He just sat there slack jawed struggling to comprehend what was going on. His hands, once leathery and thick now smooth and strong found their ways creeping up his naked torso, rubbing his new abs and grabbing his pecs as he moaned.

"I think he likes it"

Frankie just sat there admiring his new body and worshipping himself.

-------

A few days had gone by and nobody had seen Frank, a missing persons report was called it but it mysteriously got marked as solved when two cops came into the club and got a free hour alone with the new hottest dancer.

Frank, the big chubby lazy officer worker was gone,

But lucky Frankie, the horny himbo slut was there to fill his place...

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

just said "hashem never blesses my soul. not without a price, at least" because i spilled paprika on my bed

[the-seelie-court-official]

had a voucher for a free turkey, got the turkey, helped my gf make the turkey, it's the best turkey ive ever had we might be the best to ever done it

here's how we did it

dry brine the turkey for 1.5 days (turkey was already defrosted. we put the turkey in a big oven-safe glass dish and then put That on a bigger metal tray for spill-proofing, put salt, black pepper, garlic powder, onion power, paprika, chili powder, and cayenne all over the raw turkey, wash hands. put in fridge)

put the stuffing in the turkey (made turkey stuffing from a box- stove top is the brand name i think. we also put in two bundles of green onion, a whole bulb of mashed garlic, most of a yellow onion (chopped into 16'ths), and a good handful of baby carrots. woulda put celery in there if we had any but we didnt. wash hands)

poured melted butter over the turkey (1.5 sticks of butter, with salt, garlic salt, garlic powder, basil, oregano, paprika, and chili powder melted in a saucepan then spread generously over the turkey with a brush. only use 1/2 or 1/3 of the butter on this step. wash hands)

turkey in 325 F oven for ~2 hours

turkey out of oven, poured the rest of the butter over it (be careful not to over fill the glass dish. wash hands)

put tin foil over turkey (to keep in moisture. two strips, plenty of extra length, dont cheap out here it's very important. wash hands)

turkey back in oven until internal thermometer says it's done (depends on weight of turkey and several other factors, for our 22-lb turkey in a rather old and leaky oven it took another 2.5-3ish hours)

yaaaay turkey (you can pour the juice at the bottom into that butter saucepan from earlier, put it on low-medium heat, slowly add flour (sift if you can) until it's the consistency you prefer for gravy. because that's gravy. yaaaay gravy. wash hands. keep foil over the turkey when you store it in the fridge (preferably within 3 hours of its completed cook time))

[http-paprika]

GOLD RUSH / ALEX KELLER

oh shit, I haven't written in ages. apparently all I needed was the be reminded that the golden (no pun intended) american boy exists, a Taylor swift song and suddenly i'm out of the biggest writing slump i've had in a while. well, enjoy this rambling shit and enjoy the introduction of my new call of duty oc, Beau. xoxo, paprika

alex keller x original female character / 512 words / sexual implications, but never actually expanded on

HOW could she not fondly watch him, the way his skin stretches over his broad shoulders, the marks, scars, and tattoos that tell their own story? It didn’t matter that Beau had emails to respond to or deadlines to reach, and a conference call with foreign allies in an hour, the sight of his tan line that peeps out from his waistband caught her eye every time. Encroaching in on her decisions and logistics, terrorizing her in the longest minute to ever exist. 

The moment breaks, Alex runs his hand through his dirty blond hair and down to his neck before turning to look at her as she collects herself from the trance. God forbid anyone see that Beau wasn’t the cool girl she pretended to be. 

“I’m going to shower and hit the road. Hate to keep you from all your important, top-secret work.” Alex tells her, the early sunlight gleaming in his blue eyes. He had places to be, she told herself, work to do, and other women to charm. It wasn’t personal, just his way of living that she didn’t have the courage to disturb. If Beau asked him to stay, would he oblige and waste another day by her side? Would he leave his Eagles shirt hanging from her bathroom door knob again? 

“Okay.” She nods, making herself look back down at her laptop that’s perched on her lap, with an unfinished email drafted to Laswell waiting for her to press send. It was so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but Beau was determined to make it seem like it meant the world to her at that moment. Anything to keep her from asking for more. 

“Okay.” He repeats the statement, standing and searching the room for where he’d discarded his jeans the night before. Boxers snug around his waist when Alex bends over to pick up the pants and throw them over his shoulder. His eyes never look back over at her, an air of disappointment plaguing her as Alex grabs the old t-shirt from the bathroom door knob. 

Somehow navigating hostage situations, convincing militant leaders to agree to terms, and diving headfirst into warzones is less intimidating than this. A feeling of anxiety knotting up her bowels as he hums to himself the song Beau had played in her car the night before. It shouldn’t be this serious, shouldn’t cause her to stumble and falter. But his easygoing laugh and infuriating charm have hooked onto her, the line pulling her into a place she hasn’t been in a long time. 

“Hey, why don’t I make some coffee for the road?” Beau finally offers, the words spilling out of her mouth quicker than she can stop. It’s said in a rush, often synonymous when having a crush. But she’d never tell him that, Alex didn’t need to know every part of it. 

“I thought you’d never offer.” The look he gives her is golden, etched inside of her mind like her favorite song. Suddenly she understands the envy and desperation of the California Gold Rush. 

[tummyfreakoftheweek]

Steady Sweeties

My beloved friend @drpeppertummy wrote a fic about his silly little she/they. One thing led to another and now. Two seperate events of the same party one happening before the other.

[Mild hunger, stuffing, mild eructo]

Toddy's stomach wasn't the only thing moving back and forth as they drove the Beanmobile. You see, they were transporting some very important cargo for a very hyped up party. After Sunny had invited a bunch of people they knew to his place for a party on Halloween, Sage wanted to bring some homemade treats to the party. Both of the items she prepared catered well to Toddy but also could be crowd pleasers. One was a big tray of Devil Eggs. Not Deviled Eggs. These eggs had a bit of an extra dose of paprika as well as red bell pepper horns. The other was a big cauldron of apple cider. A drink so good they named themself after the alcoholic version of it. However, the cauldron could spill in the car which made Toddy ill at the thought of. Sure they were in overalls due to their costume and it could be easy to clean but they have not sullied their Kia Soul not even once. They were the only one capable of driving right now due to Sage's costume being a frilly orange dress, they still felt sick and nervous driving the jersey roads.

After about 20 minutes of careful driving, the two finally arrived at Sunny's place. There were a few cars already there. Toddy took a deep breath in for 4 counts, held it for 4 more, and exhaled for 6 before getting out to grab the eggs. Sage hoisted the Cauldron out before joining beside them. Sunny almost scared Toddy half to death when he went to greet the two of them. Not just from the sudden surprise but also because Sunny was dressed like a giant ham. If Toddy were a movie buff, they would've known it was Scout's ham costume in How To Kill a Mockingbird. They did not and assumed someone dared him to.

“Oh wow! Look at you two.” Sunny admired the costumes the duo wore. The two looked just like Luigi and Daisy from the Mario Series.

“We are the Steady Sweeties after all… just like Mario Party 5.” Toddy explained to him. Sunny's ass was not listening. He suddenly became so enamored with the eggs they were carrying. If they didn’t know any better, they might say Sunny was drooling at the sight of them.

He let the two pass by him before shutting the door behind him. There were a lot more people already there than they expected.

“Did we come here late?” Toddy asked, worried that maybe they read the invite time wrong and they ruined everything.

“You're good.” Sunny affirmed. “We were just about to start anyway. There are only two more people I'm expecting.” Toddy looked around the room while Sage went to set up. All of the filmmakers were there in much more normal costumes. Carrie and Laurie were talking on the couch, Gray was near the snack table, and Dave was trying to put a movie on for the rest of them. They wanted to wave but had their hands full so they moved closer to the snack table.

Sage had set her cauldron down near some pumpkin paper cups. Toddy set the eggs down near a pot of pumpkin stew. The rest of the table was adorned with various party snacks. Their completionist tendencies were trying to overtake them but they needed to say hi to Davey first. They got closer to the TV before taking off their green cap.

“Hey.” Toddy waved meekly before putting their hat back on. “Do you want anything? I can get something for you if you want.”

“Thanks for the offer. I'll be there in a second. I brought pumpkin soda.” Dave replied while he fiddled with the dvd player. Toddy chuckled at the soda statement.

“You sure do love your sodas.”

“That I do.”

“We brought homemade cider. In fact, I'll go get myself a cup.” Toddy shot finger guns before going to get some.

Once again the table was in full view of their eyes when they grabbed a plate… the assortment of snacks made their stomach whine ever so softly. While it still felt uneasy, the spread was perking up their appetite a bit. There was cider and pumpkin soda as drinks. They set their cup out and ladled some into it. As they looked they sipped upon the cider. There were caramel apple slices that they just had to grab. There was what looked to be a mummy cupcake? They weren't sure of anything about it besides that it was probably made by Sunny. The more they looked at the table the more they realized this party was heavily skewed towards sweets. It made sense for the holiday but marshmallow spiders, chocolate covered pretzels, pumpkin popcorn balls, ghost rice krispie treats, and a bunch of wrapped chocolates. Hershey, Kit Kats, Milk Duds, Almond Joy, and two kinds of Reeses laid on the table alongside everything else. They looked back to the eggs… if Sage had not made these eggs, they didn't know what they would do. As they took another sip they realized they already went through a cup of cider. No big deal. They just ladled another one.

“What a balanced party meal.” Toddy thought to themself. Devil eggs, caramel apple slices, and some apple cider to wash it down. They took another sip and it was extremely warming after thr cool apple slice. Some got in their fake mustache which made them coil a bit but they had to be stronger about this. They chugged the whole cup as an excuse to go back to socialize, right where Gray was standing.

However, when they got there they felt so overwhelmed. They just stood there. Shoving Devil Eggs into their mouth in one go. They had gotten through a few like this before Gray turned around right as they did it once more. They were being perceived at the wrong time. They blushed before they grabbed another cider, said a quick hello, and rushed back to their seat. Gray followed them to their seat. They think he knew it was a rough night for them.

Gray started up the conversation first. The two of them weren't the most talkative pair but when he broke down their walls, it made them feel emotionally at ease. Physically? Not so much. The more they drank and chatted, the more their anxiety lessened. With that anxiety gone, it revealed that their stomach was pushing against the overalls. It felt warm but also bubbly like a cauldron itself. If the movie and the overalls ambiance didn't exist, they knew their stomach would sound like the depths of hell.

They stifled a bit of a burp and not a few seconds later, Sage came to sit next to them. She leaned close to their ears.

“You doing alright?” Sage whispered gently.

“Not really… I tried to talk to people but I've never been good at parties.”

“At least you got the food part down.” Sage joked before she hovered her hand over their belly. They shook their head no before they leaned in close.

“Not here.” They softly yet firmly spoke.

“Do you want to head to the kitchen to see if I can help you in relative peace?”

They nodded and off the two went. When one belly tagged out of the game, another one came to tag in at the door. With Dan and Jesse's arrival, it took most of the spotlight off Sage and Toddy's disappearance. Sage was able to feel and hear each slosh and groan of her fake mustachioed belly. The more she rubbed, the more they felt better. Eventually they would head back to the party but Toddy and Sage were enamored in their sweetie's presence.

[thisisstarfleet]

Improvised Chili

Wait until 3am

Start by browning your meat.  I used 1 lb ground pork and 2 lb ground beef, both 80/20, along with a bit of salt and fresh ground black pepper.

Drain as much fat from your meat as you can without spilling the meat in the sink.  Add the meat and remaining fat into your slow cooker.

Dice 1 large yellow onion and add to slow cooker.

Gather your canned ingredients.  Realize that you don’t have enough of anything to make this the usual way.

Open a 28oz can of whole peeled tomatoes.  Pour the liquid into the slow cooker, then use an immersion blender on the tomatoes directly in the can.  Do a bad job so there is some puree and some basically still whole tomatoes.  Add to slow cooker.

Add 1 15oz can of diced tomatoes and 1 10oz can of Rotel tomatoes and chilis to the slow cooker.

Add 1 15oz can of kidney beans, 1 15oz can of pinto beans, and 1 15oz can of black beans, including liquid, to the slow cooker.

Add 3 packages of chili seasoning mix (I used 2 regular heat reduced sodium and 1 hot normal sodium).

Stir and set to low heat for 8 hours.

It is now 3:45am.  Go to bed.

Wake up at noon, stir and taste chili.  It’s ok.

Wait 90 minutes for your cousin who said he was probably coming over, then decide you can’t wait any longer and have a small bowl.  It’s still ok.

Wait 90 more minutes.  Still no cousin.  Have a second bowl, this time with some shredded cheese sprinkled in.  It’s still just ok.

Add in a few heavy sprinkles each of: garlic powder, cumin powder, chili powder, cayenne, smoked paprika, and cinnamon.  Stir and return to low heat for an hour.

Leave on warm until you get hungry again.  It’s a lot better than ok this time.  Eat two bowls.

Put the leftovers away and realize you should probably eat a goddamn vegetable at some point and it’s 10pm now.

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

( i have the headcanon that hirotsu is the alfred pennyworth of the port mafia don't fuck with him as they're will be hell to pay.)

An organisation made the ill-fated mistake of kidnapping hirotsu ryuurou .

Due to his age, they though that he will be an easy target , so they captured him thanks to one of their members haruki murakami and his ability sleep.

In hindsight they should have known that it been too easy to kidnapp someone who had managed to both survive and thrive in the port mafia even while it was at it's most volatile but they though nothing of it and underestimated him.

They though that the port mafia would easily replace the commander as it's assault squad after if they valued him he would been one of the executive or even the boss, instead of being passed over each time by peoples younger than him , poor old fool they though mockingly all those years of good and faithful service and his boss choose a mere doctor to lead his organisation instead of him.

So like sheep blishfully unaware that they would soon be sent to the slaugher they rejoiced at the though that his age have finally caught up to him and that they could use his grievance at being repaid his loyalty by being relegated to a glorified baby sister and manipulate him in spilling the port mafia's secrets.

Thanks to Yasutaka Tsutsui and his ability paprika, they make him hallucinate the family that he lost his dear fumiko and his children kazuo, jun and ayako.

It was well calculated they planned everything but two things escaped them : firstly that hirotsu ryuurou was even more faithful that they expected and how strong and far-reaching is the bond that the old mafioso formed with others.

Not only within the underworld, but also with the light and It's grey area, not only was the mafia out for blood with tachihara asking help to his contact in the hunting dog which was accepted thanks to hirotsu secret connections in the government, even dazai went to work hard which surprised kunikida, helped by kyouka who remembered hirotsu act of kindness they took the case immediately.

Which made known much the old gentleman of the port mafia was liked, it also surprised everyone to learn that not only does he have friends in the government but also in others country.

They also learned that you shouldn't piss off the port mafia, hirotsu ryuurou was off limit, this message was marked in blood.

Which is why this organisation ended up annihilated by an alliance that was only made possible thanks to all the bond that he made in his long life.

[cruxymox]

this bogrács, hot

{ i have burnt fingers }

it swings but does not spill

stir slow, this life

do you have enough paprika?

[rhadinesthes]

This month's pizza night was two nights ago. This time, I decided to make a breakfast pizza. I've never had that kind before, but it was delicious. It had scrambled eggs, red onion, red bell pepper, ham, extra sharp cheddar and havarti cheeses, and barbecue sauce. Too much barbecue sauce in fact, since it spilled out all around the pizza. 😅

I followed a tip to only cook the eggs partway before adding them to the pizza and baking, which worked quite nicely. Also, I put smoked paprika in the crust, in addition to garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning. On the side, I had a delicious black plum.

[dontsteponthatfish]

Cake

"Wilbur? What is this supposed to be?"

"Cake?"

John looked at the undefinable brown-ish mass in front of him.

It nearly spilled over the plate, it had an odd hue of purple where it wasn't burnt to a crisp, there was a powder on it that looked suspiciously like paprika, and the singular candle that had been stuck atop the sludge and was holding on for dear life only made it look sadder.

"It didn't come out perfectly" Wil admitted "I might not have used enough flour. Or forgotten entirely. I'm not sure anymore." He sounded apologetic and by the way he fidgeted with the buttons on his denim jacket John could tell he was more nervous than he tried to let on.

It was pretty cute and it made him want to say a single nice word about the cake if only he could find one.

"You did your best. That's what matters", he finally offered because he knew it was true. Wilbur didn't half-ass things like this, especially not on purpose. And to be fully honest he already knew that Wil was a dreadful cook. It only made sense for his questionable skills to extend to baking as well.

"I'll make a better one next year", he promised and John had to truly hold himself back to not take this setup to make an evil joke at Wil's expense. He'd keep it and use it some other time.

"Deal", he said instead and smiled at his partner. "And besides, the looks aren't that important, it's about how it tastes."

With that, John bravely grabbed a fork and dug in.

Lord be with him.

@ashturns30

[glass-heartz]

u seem like u like cooking so here's a yummy recipe ::

shakshuka (shawk-shoe-caw)

ingredients :

15ml olive oil

½ large yellow onion, chopped

½ large red bell pepper, chopped

pinch of salt + black pepper (black pepper optional)

2 cloves garlic, pressed or minced

7.5ml tomato paste

2.5ml ground cumin

some parsley

1.25 tsp smoked paprika

½ large can (28 ounces) crushed tomatos

4 eggs

60ml crushed feta

bread or pita on the side (optional)

directions :

preheat oven to 375°F.

warm olive oil in an oven-safe pan until simmering. once simmering, add the onion, bell pepper, and salt + black pepper. cook for about 5 minutes, until onions turn translucent.

add garlic, tomato paste, cumin, and paprika. cook and stir constantly for about 1-2 minutes.

pour in the crushed tomatos and parsley. stir occasionally and cook for 5 minutes.

turn off the heat. using the back of a spoon, create 4 small divets in the sauce. crack the eggs into the divets, careful to not let them spill out of the divets.

move the pan into the oven. cook for about 8-15 minutes, until the egg whites turn from clear to white. once done, take out of the oven using oven mitts and let cool. dish, serve, and enjoy !! :3

oh my ,, i’m honored to carry this recipe with me now !! i’ll try it one day ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ !! it looks yummy ,,

thank you for this new recipe, and an introduction to this dish !! the guide is also easy to follow for me, since i like to check what i’m cooking and its timing. this dish looks so well crafted ,,

[rom-e-o]

Okay, I'm sorry but I need to know:

Adonis, Connie, Magda, and any Scroogeverse characters meeting Bea--what are the reactions? Bea is definitely going to start off schmoozy with them all, and Bess, at the very least, has told them all her mother was not... really a mother to her. They've all also seen the damage Bea has done to Bess to some sort of extent, some seeing more than others.

DO NOT APOLOGIZE, this is a golden ask. Ooooh, I loved thinking about this, hehe~

Let's go down the line:

Adonis: Icy cold.

He knows enough about how Bea treated Bess to know she's a scoundrel, and truly goes out of his way to avoid interacting with her. If they do speak, he's passive-aggressive ("Bea, shocked you could make it. Though you always did now how make an entrance, even when you weren't invited. It's a bold choice.") While he's obviously a man who believes people can redeem themselves, not only has Bea made no effort, but the ABUSE she spearheaded? If anyone can't be saved, it's people like her. He would avoid her openly. If Bea cornered him? "As if you weren't an awful enough woman for how you treated your own daughter, one of the loveliest beings to grace this planet, you have the nerve to be offended by my lack of respect to you? Ma'am, you deserve no respect, and I don't say that often. You are poisonous lye that has already been filtered through ashes too many times to be anything less than utterly poisonous. Now, please leave. Before I say something you'll regret." He's sympathetic to a degree: Jacob hurt her. But plenty of hurt people don't become monsters.

Connie: Disregards her existence.

She's used to verbal sparring from her days as a socialite, and has suffered through many long parties where she has had to play nice and fake a smile. With Bea, she's much more offensive than defensive. Connie would guard Bess and if Bea ever tried to play nice, Connie would not mince words. ("If I see you trying to suck up to Bess at ANY point, I will escort you away, personally. I will then stand there and watch as you call a cab, give them an address at least twenty miles away, and watch that that driver hauls your ass over the horizon.") If Bea and Connie were alone, she'd ignore her. And if Bea took issue with that? "You have as much of my attention as you deserve. The minimum amount. I care not for you or your deplorable attitude, or your delusional idea that you are a woman of any grandeur, least of all in the realm of personality." Connie is also somewhat sympathetic. She's been in a relationship with a terrible man, but CAN NEVER forgive Bea for how she treated Bess. Never.

Magda: Makes her life hell.

Magda spills wine on her. Trips her. Elbows her. Spits on her. "Mr. Scrooge, must we associate with her? We normally keep trash in the alleyway." Magda would make her life miserable and be outright aggressive to Bea in every way, shape or form. She's even recruit her husband Errol and her daughter in to follow her around and harass her. ("Did you know taffeta dresses are highly flammable? One wrong move, and...poof!") Magda is on Bess like white on rice. She makes sure Bea doesn't lay a hand on her, and if she does? She had been known to throw paprika in the eyes of perverted men. Let's just say Bea would be the first woman to recieve such honors. Some say they're still a little blind.

Theresea: Legitimately would hurt Bea.

A bonus, because OH BOY. Theresea's biggest philanthropic effort is construction of ethically run orphanages, shelters, and housing for less privileged individuals, including children. Theresea adopted Constance. She could biologically have children, but chose to adopt because she saw a soul who needed a loving home. To see Bea, a mother, treat her child like a burden? Upon hearing what Bea did to Bess, a woman she's come to adore like another daughter, Theresea would brandish her fan/cane and literally begin beating Bea. "How DARE you?! You bring a sweet child into this world, then punish them for being born? You hurt her, verbally abuse her, torment her like you are a righteous judge and jury? You are swine! Worse than swine! You should be the fertilizer people use on their farms, you rotten woman!"

[blacktopmemories]

Playlist for Saturday, March 9, 2024

Faye Webster - "eBay Purchase History" Declan McKenna - "It's an Act" Lime Garden - "It" Japanese Breakfast - "Paprika" Built to Spill - "Strange" Elliott Smith - "Let's Get Lost" The Dandy Warhols - "Bohemian Like You" Catfish and the Bottlemen - "Showtime" Sleater-Kinney - "Small Finds" Laura Jane Grace - "Keeping Your Wheels Straight" Wilco - "Hints" Elvis Costello and the Imposters - "Unwanted Number" Pedro the Lion - "Yellow Bike" Neutral Milk Hotel - "Holland, 1945" Hurray for the Riff Raff - "Hawkmoon" Mary Timony - "The Dream" Doubecamp - "Seasons" I Am the Avalanche - "Dead and Gone" Sparta - "Spiders" Ron Gallo - "San Bennedeto" Frank Turner - "I Still Believe" Eliza McLamb - "Before" Katy Kirby - "Drop Dead" The Terrys - "Head Noise" Guided by Voices - "Shine (Tomahawk Breath)" Canon Logic - "Carry the Water"

xo - b. To download or stream the show, click here!

[astronicht]

whumptober day 6: made to watch

Wild Magic series (Tortall) | Numair/OMC/ OFC, Numair & Daine | 1.8k, rated E

CW: dubcon, drugged sex, mind-sharing/reading, no one is having a good time. Not underage, technically, but if you’re unsure give it a skip.

“i’ll cannibalize an old unfinished oneshot” i said. “this will not be a deeply frustrating writing experience” i said. whatever whatever posting amnesty is the POINT.

The guilt after Carthak was palpable, so Daine assumed that there would be a quiet year or so before anyone asked Numair to do his job again.

Instead, everyone stepped gently around her, but within a month were sheepishly handing Numair new orders. The king’s men looked surprised when Daine came along and stood in the corner of three different antechambers in which Numair was given his orders, but no one dared order her out. She wondered if she should just never explain that the necromancy had run its course.

“You hate political meetings,” Onua said, one evening when Daine was late for dinner after the second meeting. Dinner with Onua was paprika stew and the cartwheel shaped rolls they baked in Corus and stewed sour cherries baked in thin dough, taken from the mess hall. They took it all outside, through three different gates in curtain walls, and ate on a blanket. Daine spit a cherry stone into the pony field.

“I’m just there for him,” Daine tried to explain.

Onua got it more than most, but— “Saving Arram from himself?” she laughed, leaning on Diane’s shoulder affectionately.

No, saving him from them, Daine thought, watching the blue and lilac sunset. From all of us. “People need him a lot,” she settled on. “I’m just there to remind them to only need him a little.”

Onua had laughed.

Numair just looked confused and resigned when Jonathan’s men questioned her presence to him. “What?” He’d say, “Veralidaine? Oh, she decides.”

The bags under his eyes were bruised. In a cold hallway hung with tapestries, he said, “Of course you can always stay home, or here, or at the Swoop.” Daine nodded. She had stayed home once, in the tower. “But I don’t know where they think you go when I’m busy. A cabinet?”

Daine laughed, and when he laughed in return his tired face lit up.

Eventually, she thought, you’re supposed to get big enough that no one can touch you. Even the pressure of war is supposed to stop every few generations, isn’t it? And if you live in the lucky town there’s some time of peace that gets a name in old books. But failing that, you’re supposed to get big enough.

She was sixteen. Numair was twenty-four.

*

Daine first met Numair when he was an injured bird. He really was a bird that day. When another sorcerer makes a bird it’s an illusion, but when Numair makes a bird he does it with his body, like Daine would.

She stares at him, laying too still on the ship’s bed which was tucked into the wall like all the beds were in the village growing up. Yes, he is breathing. The air is bad and stale.

Sometimes Numair can’t help himself, she’s learned, in the way you learn someone’s weird habits for cracking eggs, or how to tell that they’re putting off washing their hair or answering a letter. He never spills his magic, but he spills his mind everywhere.

“Stop blaming my mind,” Numair whispers suddenly from the bed. “You just read it. I taught you to read so you read it.”

Daine stares levelly at him. If this is all, she doesn’t know why the Lioness thought Daine needed to be kept from a little madness. None of them had even been in that room, had they? But Daine had.

“Why did you have to see it?” Numair mutters through a clenched jaw, like he heard her think it.

He looks like a great black egret dying on a beach. His ribcage rises and falls in huge breaths. His hair is curled in cold sweat.

Buri didn’t think he’d even let Daine past the door to the stateroom. He’s awake enough to have whims. He’ll let Alanna see to him at dawn and dusk but he will not let her stay long.

“Fucking Arram,” is all the Lioness says about it. Annoyed but not shocked. She turns Daine away the first time she comes by. The second, it’s just Buri guarding the door. Daine is never going to stare the Lioness down; she might stare Buri down, though. The older she gets, the more aware she is that she and Buri are very different people cut from very similar cloth.

“Don’t be offended if he yells you out,” Buri says.

Numair says, a strange slurring voice, “It’s fine. It’s fine. She knows everything.”

Buri blinks, goes annoyed and stiff.

“She’s sixteen,” Buri hisses, leaning around the doorway.

“She went in my silly little head,” slurs Numair.

“No, you went in mine,” Daine says, stepping inside. It’s true: the year they first met he went in her head and put a little ring in it. She’s seen blown glass now, and carved rock crystal jugs that Numair keeps at home in the tower. Something like that sits in the throat of her mind, keeping magic and soul from going mad together. He doesn’t have one, does he? Definitely not.

“You went in mine first,” Numair says, finicky and semantic the way he gets, even like this, slurring his words. “You were definitely too young for that.”

Buri slams the door. She does not know Daine was in the room for it either.

Daine is not particularly afraid of Numair in a wild mood. She is afraid of Numair dying — or is she? In the face of Numair dying she would be — has been — something beyond that. Preemptively angry.

This is not Numair dying. No one’s life is going to be materially changed by yesterday or tomorrow.

Numair goes quiet. Daine is not in his silly little head, because that’s not how her magic works. If he were a bird right now, she sure fucking would be. She’d yell some sense into him, or maybe just yell at everyone but him. Enough of the not-dying; he cannot do it the way birds do, where they just sit down on the ground and it seems like within hours they are nearly nothing, a little twisted flesh but mostly hollow bone and hollow feather.

“Yes you are in my mind,” Numair slurs. Daine looks around for the pitcher of water. It is tucked in the small basin in the corner, maybe to prevent it from tipping over when the ship rocks under them. “You just think you’re not.”

“Are you talking to me?” Daine asks, peevishly. She does spill a little water by yanking the jug out of the basin too fast.

“No, sweetheart,” Numair says softly. Her chest slams; she whips around to face him. He still is on the bed. His expression is strange. “I was just speaking to Daine.”

Daine is silent. Maybe for too long; as heartbeats pass, he begins to look almost frightened.

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop if it upsets you, of course,” he says. His voice still sounds so soft. Obliging. A little higher pitched.

With a shock she realizes it is not just his tone that is different; he is speaking Thak. Daine does not understand Thak. But he said — that she was in his head. Could she then hear the meaning, before he speaks?

“I’m only a little angry,” Daine says, because that stretches the truth, but there is no point in lying. “Mostly that you dosed yourself and won’t tell them.”

Numair throws his head back on the pillows and laughs. The action is weak and jerky but it still surprises her, like something jumped out at her.

“It’s always frightening when you speak like that, darling,” he says, charming and smiling and half-dead under his own sweat. A little of his hair is tangled around his neck, like a noose. His eyes seem too young. His mouth seems too soft. Not soft like youth recalled, not soft like he once looked like this, but like this was a way he once acted. Soft and a little coquettish, a little naive: purposefully, with direction. Someone once liked him this way.

Numair whispers, one of his hands twitching across the sheets as if he wants to reach out but is unsure of his welcome. “She’s not in my head, really.”

For a moment, Daine really is outside his head, knocked out briefly by the shock of it: there, just now, she could tell he was lying. Or that he thought he was lying.

Daine sets the jug down on the stateroom floor. It might spill more, it might not. She approaches the bed where Numair watches her with wide black eyes. His gaze fixes blearily on the hand she stretches out towards him. His own hands flex again on the sheets. He holds his breath and stays very still and placid while she untucks the strand of hair from around his sweating neck. The curls spring limply against her hand, bed-frizzed and thick.

She feels his mind shift like feeling a horse grow restless between your legs; she stops touching his hair quickly.

“I didn’t know you were in that room,” he whispers suddenly.

“I know,” Daine says, not touching him.

“Why were you hiding? I never would have—“

“Why are you dosing yourself to have sex,” Daine says.

He does not flush. He never speaks about sex in her presence, but he is not bashful about it. Both of them started young, Daine suspects, but has never verified. And she was a midwife’s daughter. Sex is not strange. This was not, however, something Daine would call—

“Stop,” Numair says weakly.

Fine, whatever he wants.

***

Daine had been a little adder, coiled on a mat in her room. Kitten was tucked in to sleep in Numair’s guest quarters next door. Kitten would enjoy a bed for herself; Numair had not dressed like he intended to come back early from the banquet, or at all.

Sometimes on missions for the crown Numair spent nights away like this. Sometimes, on other missions, he spent time as a bird. Not often, but not never. When he was gone at night Daine listened for birds, just to be safe. She thought for a moment that she heard him anyway: man-shaped and something like man-minded. As close as Numair ever got.

But that was not possible, because wild magic was for one thing, and everyone knew it. It was for talking to things you were not, until you became them.

Numair then stumbled through the door with their hosts, a duke and a duchess. At first Daine thought Numair was very drunk, but then Numair was remembering his own sleight of hand to dose his wine glass, tired down to his bones, needing something to help him along. His theory was that either his wine had already been dosed, or something in the wine they served had interacted with the drug.

Daine was frozen on the rug. The duchess had to help Numair onto the bed. It had seemed to take a very long time for him to come, even with the drug and the duchess on top of him, the duke in front.

They had left him strewn on the bed, cold, numb-mouthed.

She had slithered over, a little rasp of noise on the mat.

He startled so badly that his hands shook for a full minute. “Ah. You were there?” he said. Daine, a little brown adder, could not say anything. But it was enough; he knew she had seen it. And only then did his hands come up in front of his face as if to stop something happening, though it was already done.

It was almost a relief for both of them when he was suddenly, violently sick. Then it just felt like one of those horrible nights when you made a mistake and everything is awful you want to go home.

*

He had still been drugged and hallucinating three hours later, so Daine had bundled him and Kitten and their bags downstairs to the working courtyard of the ducal palace, where deliveries were already arriving in the slick gray down. It took an unattended cart and a whisper in the ear of the severe mare who drove the cart, and they left it all behind, swift as an adder should have bit.

A few people were still feeling guilty about Carthak, though obviously nowhere near guilty enough. Partly as a consequence of this, the Lioness was waiting two towns down the valley in case of trouble. They had been on a boat upriver before the sun had had much of a chance to warm the air.

Daine sat on the edge of the sickbed, far from the tangled sheets around Numair’s body. He watched her, eyes bleary on the shape of her. Under them the boat rocked gently on its way up the riverbed.