#i also do porkchops and salmon

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

could you share more about how you cooked those chicken breasts? that sounds good as hell

Absolutely 👌

1. Chicken breasts

2. Fill bowl with lukewarm water and dissolve a good amount of salt in (like a small handful? Trust your cooking instincts Padawan).

3. Place chicken breasts in bowl and make sure they're covered in water. Stick em in fridge and let them soak. I usually do an hour but I've done 15 minutes and it still makes a difference, wouldn't do longer than a few hours tho. This step makes them juicy and well seasoned all the way through so don't skip.

4. Remove breasts after x amount of time, rinse in cool water to remove excess salinity, and pat somewhat dry. Don't gotta get fancy with her.

5. Somewhat optional but I give them a little rub down with olive oil or melted butter if I'm feeling indulgent. It's ok if u prefer to go straight to seasoning but I want my chicken breasts to fuck so I always rub em down. So only optional if you want fuckless chicken.

6. Season! If I'm lazy just salt and pepper on both sides. If I'm feeling sexy I hit em with black pepper, garlic salt, onion powder, and smoked paprika. Which is my go to seasoning mix for everything so there u go free seasoning mix (I add rosemary and a bit of brown sugar if I'm putting it on potatoes).

7. Cook for 15-18 minutes at 450°F. I know some recipes say lower temp for longer but I like getting a firm crust on the chicken and I also want chicken asap. If the breast is thinner then go for like 15-16, if it's thicker go 17-18. We don't do salmonella around here.

8. IMPORTANT let it rest she's tired once you pull it from the oven let the chicken breast sit under some loose tinfoil or whatever for about 5 minutes. If you cut into freshly cooked meat you lose all those juices we flavored so beautifully when brining the chicken and then it'll be dry. So let it rest uncut for 5 minutes.

9. Consume and enjoy, whole process takes like 20 minutes plus however long you spend brining. Keeps well in the fridge too bc it's so juicy.

I like to eat as is, shred for fajitas/stir fry, turn into garlic mayo chicken wraps, or cut up for a salad!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Do you have any one pot recipes? I’m a beginner level cook if you can call it that and I get so stressed out by too many pots and pans and mess

I don't really cook a lot of one-pot dishes the way you might be envisioning. My only one-pot dish is macaroni and cheese, but that recipe uses an instant pot. I think of shepherd's pie as a one-pot dish but it's actually a 3-pot dish (I wash the first two dishes while it's finishing in the oven in the 3rd dish).

If you're okay with two-dish meals, then these might be helpful. About 75% of my cooking these days come from one of these resources:

One Dish Kitchen - single portion meals. Her coq au vin is my favorite. I make it with mashed potatoes.

Cooking For One - from America's Test Kitchen. The beef and broccoli is my favorite here. (I found this book at my library and tried a few recipes first before buying my own copy.) I use microwave minute rice a lot.

I'm a big fan of risotto. Cook the protein (chicken, scallop, shrimp, whatever you like) in the oven and prepare the risotto stove-top in a sauce pan or a skillet. You'll need a second pot for stock/broth, but you can also do risotto in a pressure cooker/Instant Pot to cut down on the dishes.

I also like to do sheet pan dinners, where I roast a protein and veggies on the same baking sheet and then make a sauce stove-top while that's in the oven. I usually do salmon and broccoli with a lemon garlic sauce or chicken, asparagus, and potatoes with a butter sauce.

And it's not a sheet pan dinner, it's a skillet dinner but I love doing a porkchop in a skillet and when the meat is resting, sauteeing veggies in the same skillet with some additional butter or olive oil.

(My recipes for risotto, lemon garlic sauce, and butter sauce were from the internet but I've had them for so long that I can't find them online anymore. If you're interested, I'm happy to write them up and share! I think they're pretty easy - I found them when I was a beginner cook myself, having just moved out on my own 10 years ago.)

I was just gifted Compact Cooking and while I haven't cooked from it yet, all the recipes look good and manageable for a novice who doesn't want a lot of mess! You can find a lot of her recipes on Instagram and TikTok if you don't want to buy the book just yet.

[mcufox123]

Table 5 (Chapter 5)

Summary: It’s your first night not working by the stove, you were very nervous. What happen’s when a group of well known people show up to your restaurant? And what is going through Wanda’s head?

Warnings: None I don't think?

A/N: So I tried to write Wanda’s POV this chapter so there is a POV shift. It’s not my favorite chapter for sure but oh well! Hope you all enjoy! Be prepared for the next chapters!

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter 4 Chapter6

Wanda’s POV Wanda got back to the compound at around 11 and she hoped nobody was in the kitchen. Wanda was disappointed when she walked in to see Tony and Sam, however. The two people who she did not want to be there.

“Look who finally came home! Good morning witchypoo how was your night?” Tony said with a smirk on his face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Wanda continued to walk to your room to get ready for training. She put y/n’s clothes on the bed before changing into her training gear. She left to meet Natasha and Steve and the rest of the crew.

They ran through what she would be doing and paired her up with Natasha for hand-to-hand training. She tried to stay focus but kept imagining y/n face and how she was excited to see her again. Natasha slammed her on the mat for the 7th time in a row.

“Are you good Wanda?” she asks concern clearly written on her face.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go again.” Wanda said out of breath.

“I just beat you numerous times and you aren’t going to try and get better?” Natasha questioned walking off the mat and untaping her hands. Whenever Wanda usually got beat down the next time, she would come back with a vengeance that made her opponent regret taking her down in the first place.

“I’m just out of it today I guess.” Wanda shrugged while grabbing her water.

“Does it have to do with you not coming home last night?” a mischievous grin appeared on Natasha as she teased the young woman in front of her.

“It has everything to do with why I didn’t come home last night.” Wanda had a small smile playing on her lips as well as she pictured your face. She wasn’t afraid to hide you from her best friend.

“Oh, is this thing an it or is it a he?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure I’ll go with that.” Wanda said sitting on the bench. She didn’t know why but she was nervous to tell her teammate about her new discovery about herself.

“Ok, ok. Now I am going to get all serious with you but remember it’s for your own good.” Natasha said staring the young girl in her eyes to make sure Wanda knew that. “Do they know how intense your job is? Long hours? Life or death situations? The possibility of going to other worlds?”

“Yes, she knows I’m an Avenger and all of the things that go along with that.” Wanda talked about Y/N. In truth they barely brushed upon the topic. Being with Y/N was so calming and it took Wanda out of the superhero world. It made Wanda feel normal. So, the topic was never brought up.

“Oh, she is a she?” Natasha was shocked.

“Yes, she is a she.” Wanda repeated.

“That’s amazing Wanda I’m so happy for you! And I’m so happy she is understanding! Do I know her? What’s her name? Can I meet her?” Natasha continued with the questions. Wanda breathed a sigh of relief at how her friend was truly excited for her.

“Her name is y/n. You have probably heard of her, but I’m not telling you how I’ll let her tell you. She gets very excited about her line of work. And you can she is coming to movie night Wednesday night.” Wanda informed Nat who squealed with excitement.

Training went on better after she told Nat about y/n. She was able to focus more on her technique. After training and showering Wanda went to the kitchen to see what the plans were for dinner only to run into Steve and Vision.

“Hey Steve! Hey Vis! What’s for dinner? Am I cooking or are we ordering out?” Wanda asked her friends.

“Hello Wanda. I was actually just telling Steve about that restaurant we went to. Where the kitchens are on the floor. What was it called again?” He asked and Wanda froze because she knew he was talking about Contento.

“Hmm I have no idea Vision.” She said trying to cover up and think of a different restaurant.

“You know the one I proposed to you at? I had the steak, and you had the fish. The Chef walked it to our table.” Vision continued. It wasn’t weird for them to talk about that night. The team teased them about it all the time now that things have cooled off.

“Oh, right that restaurant Contento? I think they are super booked all the time though.” Wanda said hoping to sway them in a different direction.

“Nonsense I’m sure Stark can work his magic and get us a table I’ll send him a text right now.” Steve said as he sent the text and Wanda’s stomach dropped.

“Perfect he got us a table for tonight at 7.” Steve said as he looked at both Wanda and Vis.

“Perfect!” Wanda forced a smile on her face. “It’s 5:00 now I should go get ready.”

As she ran to her room Wanda sent y/n a text to give a warning but knew that it would be of no use as the restaurant had already opened.

As she got ready a million thoughts ran through Wanda’s head. She had to have the whole superhero talk with you as soon as she could. She didn’t want to hurt you in any way and wanted to be as honest with you as she could.

Wanda picked out an outfit that would be sure to shock you and did her makeup before meeting the team to go to Contento.

When Wanda arrived at the restaurant her eyes immediately went to the kitchen counter to where you both had spent countless nights cooking. She was shocked however to see you in the wrong spot. You were at the counter instead of cooking by the stove like you should’ve been. She followed the team to a big table set up for them.

Y/N POV You were on the other side of the table making dishes look presentable, lining them up with their tickets, and helping servers run their food. All of the years watching Bill you thought he had the easy job but boy were you wrong. You were just getting ready to run a porkchop and a salmon to a table when your eyes met with a pair of all too familiar green ones.

She looked beautiful in a maroon dress. She took your breath away. The way it hugged her body, and she wore her hair down almost as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on you. She gave a small smile before walking to her table and that is when you noticed the rest of the avengers were also eating at your restaurant.

“Hey Bill, all of the Avengers are here.” You say over the counter, and he just looks up and swallows. He was nervous you could tell.

“Alright we will finish the orders we have up there now before we get their order.” Bill ordered the team behind the counter. You were proud of your best friend taking over his new job seriously.

“I am going to go greet them.” You say as Bill just nods and continues to work. You make your way over to their large table standing right across from Wanda.

“Good evening everyone! My name is Chef Y/N and welcome to Contento. I hope you all have a wonderful evening and if you need anything I will be right over at that counter.” You say trying to look at everyone, but your eyes kept falling on the beautiful girl in front of you once again. You ended by pointing to the spot you have been working all night.

You felt her eyes burn into your back as you made your way back across the restaurant. Once back at the counter you fix up the plates that were waiting for you and run them.

About 5 minutes later you have a lull before the Avengers put their order in and you look across to see not one girl but two girls now staring at you from the Avengers’ table. The first with a look of curiosity and the second was trying to assess your every move. The latter gets up and decides to walk over to the counter where you were working.

“Chef Y/N let me just say it is so nice to meet you! I have heard so much about you.” Black Widow walks closer to you, and you start to feel nervous. You have never interacted with an Avenger outside of Wanda and Vision.

“Black Widow, nice to meet you as well! Thank you so much for choosing to eat here tonight. It is such an honor to have you all here.” You say glancing around the restaurant to find your girlfriend having a conversation with Sam but also glancing at you every few minutes.

“Please call me Natasha. Chef Y/N, can I ask you a question? Why do you keep glancing at our table and why are you so nervous talking to me?” she asks with a smile still on her lips.

“I'm just so happy you guys are here! I can’t believe earth's mightiest heroes decided to eat at my restaurant.” you say avoiding eye contact. She is still trying to read you though.

“I know who you are. I know you are close with her,” she says nodding her head back to the table where Wanda is sitting. “Let me just tell you that I have not seen her this happy since her brother passed. Take care of her. But also keep an eye out for yourself. Our job takes a toll on us and the people we are close with. If you can’t handle that, get out now.” You stare at her in shock, your mouth goes dry, and you just nod your head slowly forgetting how to speak.

“Can’t wait for movie night Wednesday! See you then.” She finishes before walking away. You digest her words for a moment before Bill is leaning across the counter snapping in your face.

“You ok in there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He says plating the salmon dish.

“I’m dating the Scarlet Witch and I’m terrified.” You say honestly. He freezes for a minute as he looks out at the long table then back at you.

“That’s ok we can talk about it after work. I’m here for you but right now we have to get these orders out.” Two more dishes are put on your counter. In that moment you were grateful for Bill keeping you on task, but you were still thinking about the words the scary woman said to you.

Taglist:

@b0mbdotc0m @yeetus-thyself @ineedafinghug @madamevirgo @when-wolves-howl

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

H-hello so uhh, top 10 boyos who are great cooks, like uhh they'll make you dinner from scratch and its good, really good food. If that's oke, thank you ❤❤❤

*SMACKS PALMS AGAINST THE TABLE* NOW THIS IS A FUCKING ASK. LET’S GO BITCH.

tfp Breakdown. The best fucking cook you will ever goddamn see. Breakdown knew nothing about cooking, until he realized that food brings people together. Then he picked some stuff online, and now, dudes fucking Gordon Ramsey in this bitch. He loves making BIG portions of stuff, and loves working with meat. You get him a nice roast, a few potatoes and onions? He can feed the entire ship easily. Not to mention he’s quite the baker boy, so he indulges his husband when his 2am chocolate cake cravings hit.

rid2015 Wildbreak. Not AS good as his dad, but he’s a competent boy. He loves making mushroom risotto, and hand pies. Breakdown is so proud of his ass, and they have little cook offs on a daily basis.

Rid2015 Thunderhoof. Not only does he look good while doing it, but boy makes some FINE Italian food. Pizzas, raviolis, eggplant parms, lasagna, and his peak masterpiece; spaghetti and meatballs. Dude makes the best meatballs, makes the sweetest tomato sauce, all with a giant ass thing of garlic bread. Seriously, you will never run out of bread, or wine. For dessert, his go to is affogato, but if he gives a shit about you, he’ll go the extra mile and make the best goddamn tiramisu you've ever fucking had. Dude and coffee and go hand and hand tbh.

Rescue bots Hightide. He’s no five star chef, but he knows how to make simple fish dishes (his favorite being clam chowder), and how to make a good, hearty bread. Its a bit salty, but you can’t help but ask for seconds. His food is meant to warm those he rescues, and it does a fair job.

tfa Blitzwing. No master, but he knows his way around the kitchen. Icy, at least. Random keeps eating the counter top, Hothead is pissed that he can’t fucking find the salt- it’s a mess. When Icy is around long enough though, he makes a damn good meat stuffed pumpkin, and can even make a nice egg pudding (he makes a decent german chocolate cake, but that’s way more Breakdown’s speed).

MTMTE Impactor. Odd choice, I know. But dude knows how to make shit ingredients taste good. You got some kinda old noodles? Congrats, you got yourself a fat plate of carbonara, greasy and delicious. He ain’t fancy, but he’s the best for you broke bitches with a low stock.

G1 Ironhide. Big portions, big calories with this cowboy. You can’t leave his place without a full belly. Biscuits and gravy, eggs, hashbrowns, porkchops, fried chicken- and that’s just breakfast. It’s nice, hearty, and you can ask for as many helpings as you’d like. He will not stop. His food is endless. You will go home with leftovers for like a week. Even a pudding pie for dessert.

tfa Prowl. He’s actually a vegetarian! He likes making clean, easy to eat food, like veggie rice balls (or doughnuts), carrot stew, honey garlic tofu on a bed of steamed veggies, and for dessert? A honey baked apple, topped with mix nuts and whipped cream. His food is very good, and clean. He even makes his own trail mix for when he goes on nature walks (its full of roasted nuts, dried fruits, and dark chocolate bits), and will happily share if you ask him for some.

Tfp Dreadwing. He was the main cook in the household, and as such, he can feed others, should it be needed of him. He likes making Salmon Meuniere, chicken curry, and honey glazed beef strips. All of his food comes with a bed of white rice. His favorite thing to make though? Those cute little wagashi treats. They’re often made of bean paste, and they go lovely with his daily cups of tea. He also makes them very pretty and ornate. 

Cyberverse Soundwave. He mainly learned now to cook because Hot Rod absolutely fucking can’t. He’s the more casual cook on this list, preferring stuff you can set and forget. Stuff like Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, roasted chickens, mac and cheese, pot roast- pretty much anything you can stick in a crock pot, and have dinner ready for when he comes back from work. When he makes desserts, he loves making either cookies, or swiss rolls, depending how much time he has. He loves ube and pumpkin flavors.

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

(This got a bit rambling so tucking most of it under the cut - but summary: I’m starting a new WIP in addition to this one (oops).)

I’ve been thinking (a dangerous pastime, I know) about my last blip of an update and I realized something: I’m writing Phoenix Knight for free and just for fun - and I don’t intend to even open the support function until the entire thing is finished and up, and maybe not even then.

But that means I’m not on anyone’s timeline but my own. And I don’t have to feel guilty if I want to work on anything else either. Because it’s free and for fun it means that working on another project is something I can choose to do. I don’t have to talk myself out of writing something else too because there isn’t a deadline.

The only pressure here is what I put on myself (which is, uh, probably still too much but we’re not going to undo years of damage caused by academic over-achievement followed by a brutal collegiate burnout anytime soon).

That being said. I’m going to start my new project. (Actually I already have. The file is open. I’m taking a break from setting up the StoryInit page and setting a basic color scheme that doesn’t burn the eyes completely from the sockets (we’re just gonna ignore that I still haven’t figured out PK’s scheme either cus I’m probably not gonna leave it salmon) and at least a general arc plotted and the prologue fully planned.)

SO - I had a really shitty week all in all. But the last time I actually got a lot of work done with Phoenix Knight I had the foster kitten my brother brought home to bottle feed with me. We lost Porkchop to fading kitten syndrome at the beginning of the week. And I know it isn’t uncommon to lose bottle-babies that are that young, which is why I don’t like fostering but it still hurt even if it was always a possibility I acknowledged, ya know? And then I got really sick - like woulda been in for major surgery or died if I’d kept being stubborn and refusing to go to the doc sick. I’m still kinda getting over that but feel like a human today (mostly).

Between those two things weighing on me I think having a focus on the new-shiny details of building everything for the new project rather than filling in the scaffolding and ironing out the kinks (like with PK) will help me more right now.

So progress on Chapter 2 might be a bit slower. (Though, since I’ve been glaring at it and making a few sentence’s worth of progress for over a week so stepping back and letting it percolate and breathe might actually help.) But I am also going to take the time to sit down and organize my plans for it on paper (or an electronic equivalent thereof) instead of just in my head.

(And wow am I loving the parentheses as asides today.)

Right now the new WIP is titled “Code Name: Oracle” in my files but I’m planning on changing that once I get a better idea. I haven’t decided if I’m just going to change the name on this blog and use it for both projects or create a new devlog side blog for it.

You’ll play a detective that ends up with powers after being kidnapped and experimented on by a villain. Upon the discovery of said powers they are ‘promoted’ to the local superhero team as an investigator and liaison - not a field operative.

I have at least three RO’s semi-fleshed out with a fourth being played with. One of those routes is enemies-to-lovers with a “villain” who is more anti-hero than evil (oh, and it’s very important - they are not the kidnapping mad scientist), and you can choose to befriend or not outside of the romance route too.

The other two I’m sure of are heroes on the team.

(Although, everyone is currently missing names. And faces. Though I know their powers and some of their personalities already. ^^’’)

I’ve already found I do not have the patience for building and balancing actual skill stat systems so instead there will be three ‘Detective styles’ to set for your pre-kidnapping career which my notes have labeled as “Talker”, “Chaser”, and “Sherlock” if that gives you an idea of how it’ll form out. But I plan on having it so you can potentially change your approach style after the kidnapping, etcetera, to create a mismatch in the detective’s reputation and current approach as a result of experiences. The style won’t force you to take any path that you don’t want - if my plan works out - but it’ll affect the flavor text some.

And I know - detective with superpowers that involve visions and seer-like abilities isn’t that inventive or new or whatnot but it’s a trope I enjoy. I’m not aiming to be inventive or even all that creative with the new baby. (And, yes, I already had to talk myself out of throwing the whole concept out a window due to the fact that I know it’ll end up with similarities to more popular works.)

So. That’s it! Thanks for listening to my thoughts!

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 34)

The Gilded Cage

We’re off to a party at the mayor’s house! I hope you like this one, guys :)

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

I regretted my decision to sit by the fire almost instantly. I'd made some oatmeal for breakfast and had wandered over, thinking the area was void of people; awake ones, anyway, Javier and Lenny were curled up asleep under the shelter opposite the log I'd chosen. I'd already committed to sitting there when I realised that Micah was there too, lounging under the shelter next to it, I hadn't registered him due to his stillness and silence, but when he moved to pull a drag from the cigarette he was smoking, I saw him. He was watching me, his face neutral, though erring towards a glare if I focused on the slight narrowing of his eyes and the way he did not look away when my eyes met his. 

"Morning, Micah," I said curtly.

Micah didn't answer, continuing to stare and smoke across the fire. His silence drew on, the crackle of the fire and Javier's quiet, occasional snore my only answer. My gut churned and I tried to focus on my breakfast, forcing it down, knowing my sudden loss of appetite didn't mean I wasn't hungry.

"I'd appreciate it if we could be civil," I said quietly, then took a mouthful of oatmeal. 

Micah scoffed. "Is a man not allowed to sit quietly and enjoy the morning peace without being accused of not being civil?"

"Sorry," I shook my head, not looking at him. 

He went quiet again, but after a while, he sighed. "Just so you know, I ain't sad. I ain't over here wallowing, feeling sorry for myself over you."

"I didn't think you were."

"You really ain't that special after all," he shrugged and I smiled to myself, thinking back to our conversation at the Parlour House where he'd said the exact opposite. I wasn't surprised he'd been saying it to butter me up.

"I know."

"Morgan's welcome to you," he muttered, flicking his cigarette away and standing up, strolling past me, "enjoy your breakfast," he added snidely. 

I looked up at him and watched his back as he left, his hand hooked on his belt, his gait slow and self assured. Conflict was not something that I enjoyed, but I found myself getting irritated by that stroll of his. I sighed and shook my head.

Footsteps approached from behind, and I looked up in time to see Arthur stepping over the log before sitting down beside me. He was carrying a letter in his hand, his eyes cast down towards it, a slight frown marring his brow. He didn't say anything in greeting. 

"Hello," I said curiously, and there was a pause before he responded distractedly. 

"Hey," he said, then after a moment he looked up at me, then handed me the letter.

"What's this?" I questioned, looking down to the bottom of the page where the letter was signed off. Mary.

"Mary's contacted me again. She's in the city, apparently, wants to see me again," he told me. 

I quickly skim read her letter, wincing at the words on the page, wondering why on Earth Arthur had given it to me. It was full of hopeless pleading, speaking of change and how Arthur could not seem to do it, how he could not be a man. She wanted his help again, it appeared, she begged. I handed it back to him when I was done, finished off the last of my oatmeal, all the while feeling Arthur's expectant eyes on me. 

"Well, she sounds like she's in a tricky situation of some sort. You gonna help her?" I asked, finally looking at him. He stared blankly for a moment.

"I don't know, I was sort of hoping you'd tell me what you thought I should do," he laughed a little. I raised a brow, unsure how to respond to that.

"Mary is your… friend. I can't tell you how to deal with her. I know last night you said you ain't had to do much thinking for yourself, Arthur, but this is one of those times you're gonna need to practice," I chuckled.

"I can't just go back to her, can I? Not when I'm with you. That wouldn't be fair. I ain't thought of her in ages, darlin', and I'm gonna get tired real quick if she's gonna keep seeking me out whenever she needs someone to do her dirty work," he grumbled, shaking his head and smacking the letter with the back of his hand in distaste. 

"Then don't go," I shrugged. His face contorted, my answer obviously not sitting right with him either.

"That's what I should do, ain't it?" He murmured, mostly to himself. He stared down at the letter, rubbing the dip below his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. 

I watched him for a moment, then took a breath. "I won't be mad if you want to see her."

"I don't want to see her," he was quick to correct me, "but that don't mean I feel content with tossin' this letter and ignoring her. That wouldn't be right."

"Then go!" I laughed, though it wasn't full of humour. "Arthur, it's up to you. I can understand your decision either way, she ain't exactly making things easy for you."

"I'll go. I'll go and you'll come with me, you can meet her and we'll tell her about us. Like I said last time, maybe if she sees I've moved on she might feel contacting me asking for help all the time is inappropriate," he said. 

My lips parted, my heart thumping uncomfortably in my chest, eyes widening. Arthur didn't notice.

"I told her last time I couldn't drop everything for her and she needed to look elsewhere if she wanted an errand boy, that didn't sink in, clearly. So I guess it's come to this," he continued shaking his head, "she don't seem to understand that she puts me in a difficult position when she sends me letters like this, it pulls me right back to when she and I– it just don't feel good."

I dropped my focus to the glowing cracks in the wood of the campfire, trying to settle my anxiety, taking slow, quiet breaths. I saw Arthur look towards me from the corner of my eye, then heard him sigh.

"And it ain't fair on you," he added, then tossed the letter into the flames right in front of me, making me jump. 

For some reason I flinched, almost going to grab the letter out of instinct as if it had been an accident, but I caught myself. I turned my wide eyes to him.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, "I'm not going. I shouldn't even think twice about it when I've got you I should be focusing all my attention on."

"Arthur, you don't have to be like this for me," I shook my head and he reached for my hand, cupping it between both of his, stroking the back of it with his palm, "she was your fiancé," I added.

"You knew about that?" He frowned, then shook his head dismissively. "Yeah, she was. Until she decided to call the whole thing off and marry some other feller, spitting on everything she and I had together." 

"I'm sorry," I breathed. 

"Well," he sighed, looking guilty, "it was a little more complicated than that. I weren't being totally fair, neither of us were innocent, we hurt each other. Anyway, I'm trying to move forward and build something with you, I refuse to let her make me keep one foot in the past, Lord knows I did that for too long." 

"If you're sure," I said, though I felt a little guilty being the reason he wanted to ignore her letter. It was Arthur's decision, though, however he made it.

"I'm completely sure," he lifted one hand to my cheek, stroking his thumb across the top of my cheekbone. He moved in to kiss me once. "I miss that hotel room already. Things were nice there, just me and you," he whispered when our lips parted, only for him to kiss me again right after.

Arthur tilted his head, deepening the kiss. All of my guilt and worry ebbed away, my heart rate slowed to a pace that was only elevated because of excitement, not anxiety, it thrummed more pleasantly in my chest, fluttering like the butterflies in my stomach. It was just Arthur and I, like nobody else existed for those moments. It didn't occur to me once where we were, until I heard a laugh. 

Arthur and I immediately broke away from each other and looked towards the noise; Javier was in the process of sitting up, just woken up, looking between us. 

"Don't let me disturb you," he teased, smirking, then got up and left us to grab himself some coffee. Regardless, Arthur and I put a little distance between us. Just because we weren't worried about keeping our relationship quiet anymore, it didn't mean we were going to start ramming it down everyone's throats. 

"Did you speak to Hosea and Dutch about the mayor's party?" Arthur asked after a short stretch of quiet. 

"Oh, yeah, well I spoke to Hosea. He said he'd ask Dutch, but he thought it was a good idea; said we'd look a little more upstanding if we had a lady in the group," I grinned, and Arthur chuckled.

-

Dutch took some convincing – mainly the work of Hosea – but eventually he came around to the idea of having me attend the party. There were conditions, however, we were there to work, to find leads, not simply to get a taste of high society life. He said it to me as if I was interested in that sort of thing, I told him not to worry, I'd already been working on my persona and a plan to seek out something worthwhile. He also warned me not to distract any of the other men while they were looking for their own leads, and that one almost made me roll my eyes. What did he take me for? 

So, all of us – Dutch, Hosea, Bill, Arthur and I – headed to Saint Denis to get ourselves cleaned up for the party. We went to the tailor's and each bought a new outfit for the occasion; I ended up in a ball gown the likes of which I'd never worn in my life. It was a salmon pink off-the-shoulder thing with a gathered, satin, wrap-around style bodice and wide skirt with more gathers at the front, the fabric lifted to reveal a layer of lighter pink satin underneath trimmed with lace. The dress was adorned with ribbons and bows and a ruffle on the bust that made me look more endowed than I really was, helped along by the corset that went with it that did an excellent job of pushing my breasts up till I could practically rest my chin on them.

Heading back to camp before the party saw me surrounded by the girls, Miss Grimshaw and Mary-Beth worked together to do my hair while the others (excluding Sadie, who was decidedly not interested in the ball and Molly, who was decidedly bitter that Dutch hadn't asked her to come) spoke excitedly about what a ball at the mayor's house might be like. I was nervous by the time I was ready and the sun was on its way down, and we were all piled into a stagecoach together on our way. 

I was crammed in between Bill and Hosea, sat opposite Arthur and Dutch. Hosea was talking about how he used to attend balls quite often, and I was surprised until he revealed it was more about pick-pocketing than anything else. We all shared a laugh.  

"Remember, we're here to make contacts. So, no pick-pocketing, no cons," Dutch began, looking to me before continuing, "well, loosely speaking. You see an opportunity to set something up, go ahead, but the point is we don't wanna attract any attention just yet."

"What sort of contacts we trying to make here?" Arthur questioned, shaking his head and seeming amused by the whole thing. 

"I guess we'll find out when we get inside," Dutch laughed, "we're heading into a party at the mayor's house where the guest of honour is the worst crook in town. Rest assured, Arthur, we're bound to find something."

I laughed, looking down at my hands, twisting a ring around that Tilly had lent to me for the occasion, taking a breath to calm my nerves.

"When we get there, Arthur and I will go in and reacquaint ourselves with Bronte, you fellers, go find somewhere quiet and we'll meet you out there. And you, my dear," Dutch continued, and I looked up when he addressed me, "you head into the party and start mingling. Use your womanly charm to get us some information about something we might be able to steal, some poor feller worth robbing, anything."

"Womanly charm," Arthur chuckled, but it seemed a little tense, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means a feller's more likely to trust an attractive young lady – or better yet, try to impress her – with some information about how well he's doing for himself, than he is a mean lookin' tough guy such as yourself," Dutch explained in a low voice, "and that is information we might be able to use."

I felt my face heat up at the way Dutch referred to me as an attractive young lady, especially when all the men in the coach turned to look at me at that moment precisely. Arthur's eyes stayed on me long after the others turned away.

"It's a fair point," Bill said. Arthur shrugged then looked back at Dutch.

"Fair enough. Now what am I doing?" Arthur asked.

"We'll figure that out once we get inside, we're here."

We arrived outside of the house, a beautiful place lit up and alive with the sound of music drifting onto the streets from what sounded like the garden around the back. We all climbed out of the stagecoach, and Bill awkwardly offered a hand to help me down after scrubbing it against his trouser leg, since he was the one who climbed out before me. I took it and thanked him, and he was quick to let go as soon as I was down safely, acting like it never happened. I chuckled to myself, and came to walk beside Arthur who was waiting for me. 

"You ready for this?" He uttered to me under his breath. A smile lifted my lips and I gave him a look of reassurance.

"Ready or not, we're heading in. We'll be fine," I told him, looking him up and down in his suit. 

Christ almighty, Arthur in a suit, now that was a sight I could get used to. He looked incredibly handsome, his hair slicked back with pomade, his beard freshly trimmed to a short, neat stubble. 

"You certainly scrub up well," I purred, and Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly distracted by one of the gentlemen standing at the front gate, greeting people. 

"I'm afraid the mayor doesn't allow guns at official functions after last year's incident," he was saying. Hosea and Dutch handed over their holstered weapons, and Arthur turned to do the same. 

My heart stopped and I glanced around nervously, wondering if I could get away with it or if it was worth the risk of keeping quiet. One of the gentlemen looked at me, raising a brow as he noticed my nervousness, and with an awkward cough I turned away from the group. I could feel their eyes on me as I – as discreetly as I could – lifted the hem of my skirt, gathered up my petticoats, and reached underneath to retrieve the revolver I had strapped to my thigh. I sheepishly handed it over, gaining a number of surprised looks.

"Well, a lady needs to be able to protect herself, don't you think?" I chuckled tensely, and eventually they all shrugged it off. 

"I suppose that's rather sensible," someone said. 

With that, we were ushered into the house. I fell into step beside Arthur, who was looking at me with an amused smile and lidded eyes. I flushed and chose not to say anything, feeling his hand go to the small of my back as we climbed the steps to the house. 

Hosea, Bill and I broke off from Arthur and Dutch when they went to meet Signor Bronte. Arthur had explained before we left that he was the one who'd invited us here, and he just about ran part of the city. He was also the one who was holding Jack, but Dutch had sucked up to him enough that that wasn't a problem… apparently. I personally found it very odd, but it wasn't my place to say anything.

I headed into the party just as Dutch had instructed. I stepped out of the back door onto the veranda that looked out across the garden. I took a moment to familiarise myself with the place; there were people everywhere, all lavishly dressed of course. There was a gazebo with a band playing right in the middle of it all, a huge fountain further up ahead. The garden was split up with raised planters bursting with exotic looking foliage and flowers, between which were various paved areas where the guests converged, all around buffets and candle lit tables. Lights were strung up above, bathing the place in a low glow, bright enough so you could make your way around but dark enough to maintain a strangely intimate atmosphere.

I hadn't been to any balls before, but I had to say, the place looked impressive even to me. 

I descended one of the sweeping staircases that curled around into the heart of the party, immediately being offered a glass of champagne by a gentleman holding a tray full of glasses. I gratefully took one, having a sip, my very first taste of champagne. I had to say, I wasn't all that impressed, though I drank it anyway to calm my nerves and give me a little more confidence. 

Glancing around the place, I honestly didn't know where to start. Looking for leads; I knew my objective but once I was faced with the prospect of carrying it out, I almost regretted coming. Luckily, I needn't pluck up the courage to make the first move to anyone because a man approached me, casually sliding in beside me, nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre of some description. 

"Good evening," he greeted me after finishing off the last bite. He was a tall, skinny man with a gaunt face and deep set eyes. Very pale skin dotted with freckles and bright orange hair slicked into a graceful sweep across his forehead. He was wearing a suit not dissimilar to the one Dutch was wearing… or any of the other men for that matter. There really was only so many ways to wear a suit, it seemed, rather boring compared to the variety in the women's gowns. There were some show-stoppers, for sure.

"Hello there," I replied, turning to face him. 

"Pleasure, the name's Michael," he offered his hand to me and met it with my own, he gave my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Jemima," I told him. 

"Jemima," he repeated with a nod, "what a God-awful farce this is, don't you agree?"

"Oh, I'm afraid I just arrived. I haven't quite been here long enough to draw any conclusions," I laughed. 

"Darn, I was hoping I'd find someone to stand and complain with. You know, I'm only here because my social climber wife was invited. Yes, she's rather friendly with that man who makes the ugly hats, what's-his-name," he looked to me for an answer and I could do no more than stare blankly at him, "Wasp. What an awful name."

"Never met the feller," I shrugged, clearing my throat and scanning the place for an excuse to escape.

"Well I assure you he practically owes his living to me, with the number of hats my wife owns. You'd think she wanted to open up her own shop. And the size of some of them, I'll have to buy a second home just to keep the damn things," he tutted, shaking his head. "Anyway, she fits right in here, but I just can't stand these sorts of things."

"I suppose it's not for everyone," I mused.

"Right, she was stood talking to that man over there for twenty minutes when I left her to it. Some nonsense about art, he's a dealer or something, was trying to sell her some crap from Italy that I'll end up paying for, no doubt," he grumbled, gesturing to a gentleman now standing alone, picking at the buffet. 

I watched him for a moment, thinking. 

"That woman'll be my ruin, I'm sure of it, bleed me dry," Michael said under his breath, and I looked at him with raised brows. He caught my eye and sighed, "sorry, I've been hitting the champagne hard since we got here, I've said enough. I'll leave you to it. Have a pleasant evening," he said monotonously, then skulked off.

I noticed Arthur pouring champagne for a group of ladies nearby and smiled, then wandered over there. He grinned when he saw me, and topped up my glass. 

"Thank you, sir," I said, and he shook his head in amusement. 

"What did Dutch say about distracting the fellers?" He teased me. 

"I'm distracting you? Why I'm just saying hello," I nudged him, sipping my drink. "How is Mr. Bronte?"

"He's…" he began, trailing off as he struggled to sum the man up, "well, I'm just glad you haven't had to meet him."

"Oh, that bad?"

He made a humming sound. "Who was your new friend?" He gestured in the vague direction of Michael. I laughed and shook my head.

"An unhappily married complainer, was about my take away from the conversation," I told him, "but, he gave me an idea, so it wasn't all bad." 

"Yeah?" He looked at me, intrigued.

"Yeah," I smiled, "what about you?"

"Well, I need to speak to the mayor," he said, nodding over towards the fountain where a group of men were standing, one of them must've been him, though I couldn't tell you which one. 

"Oh! I'll leave you to it, then," I rubbed his upper arm, pausing to feel the muscle there when it captured my attention, before turning to leave. Arthur caught my arm before I could walk away. 

"You look incredible. Just thought I should tell you that," he said under his breath.

A smile burst across my face, "thank you, sweetheart." 

Arthur smiled at the nickname, sliding his hand down to squeeze mine, his eyes turning soft and warm and lovely. Before I could get carried away, he let me go, and we each went our separate ways so we could get on with our jobs. I walked towards the man Michael had pointed out to me as an art dealer, flashing him a little smile and waiting for him to smile back before committing and closing the distance.

"Hi, lovely to meet you, Jemima Jones," I introduced myself, offering my hand and having him shake it. 

"Leighton Pleasants," he said in an English accent, then glanced down at my attire, "what a lovely dress."

"Oh, thank you. It's brand new for the occasion, I couldn't resist spending a little money once I knew I'd be coming to the mayor's house," I giggled, and Leighton's smile widened, "speaking of, I heard you are a collector of artwork, or something along those lines?"

"Ah, yes, something like that. I have rather an impressive collection if I do say so, though a lot of the buying I do is for the purpose of passing it along to those who will treasure it. Do you have an interest in art?"

"I suppose you could say that. I enjoy filling my home with work that the guests can enjoy, I host a lot of parties, you see. I bought a painting on the recommendation of a dealer in Paris a few years back and ever since then I've been hooked. The looks on people's faces when I unveil a new piece!" I touched his arm and gave a happy sigh. "Truthfully, I know nothing about art, but my guests often do. I'm always on the lookout for new and exciting work."

"Oh, really? Well, in that case I believe I might be your new best friend."

"Or I may become yours," I flashed him a mischievous grin and watched as he chortled. 

"Well, I have a new shipment of artwork coming in from Italy, due next week. It's certainly new and exciting, it's by this up and coming artist–"

"Oh, save the sales pitch until I'm seeing the work," I cut him off, "how do you do business, Mr. Pleasants? Do you have a gallery nearby?"

"Actually, I tend to hand pick artwork for my clients and bring a selection to their home, let them display the work in their desired location to really give them a sense of what they're getting," he explained, making grand gestures with his hand at something in his imagination appearing right in front of us. 

"Oh, well, that's certainly a personal service," I hummed, pursing my lips, "but I think I'd prefer to see everything you've got, especially this new shipment. Don't you have a gallery?"

"Well, I have a building that I keep all of the work in, though it's not so much a gallery as it is a warehouse," he admitted, wearing a hesitant expression, "a private building in the city for security purposes, it's not a pretty place, but it is highly secure and the artwork is kept safe and pristine for potential buyers."

"Oh, I don't mind what the building looks like, just the art. Perhaps you'd allow me to visit? Just give me a time and the place and I won't be any trouble, I'd just like to have a look," I bargained, but he didn't look enthusiastic, he frowned and chewed on his lip. 

"I'm afraid I can't, the building is very secure and there is a lot of money's worth of art there, it's not that I believe you're untrustworthy, I just cannot bring clients there. It's more my partner's rule than my own, you understand, don't you?" He apologised, and I let out a sigh, pouting glumly. 

"Fine, I get it. Can't be too careful, I suppose. Well, what if you do what you normally do and bring me some paintings to look at? If you don't mind, I'd rather view them at a hotel, so my husband doesn't find out I'm spending all our money again," I laughed, and he visibly relaxed. 

"I suppose I can manage that," he nodded, smiling at me, eager to keep me keen, "what sort of art are you after?"

"How about you bring me that Italian work? I'm not too picky, if it's new and popular, I'm all for it," I suggested.

"Well, in that case, I think you'll be very pleased."

"May I ask that you bring the work to the Saint's Hotel in Valentine? I know it's a bit of a ways away, but trust me, it's closer than my home," I chuckled.

"Valentine? That's no problem at all my dear. The paintings will be arriving in Saint Denis next Friday, so perhaps we could set the viewing up for Saturday morning?" 

"Evening would be better for me, I think," I pondered. The roads would be quieter, I thought.

"Evening it shall be, then. Shall we say six o'clock, next Saturday, at the hotel in Valentine?"

"Absolutely!" I offered my hand to him again and he shook it. 

"Wonderful!" 

A moment later, a loud bang rang out across the sky. I was a moment away from ducking for cover, but I saw the burst of light in the air above us, a shower of colourful sparks, followed by many more. Fireworks!

"How beautiful," I breathed, mostly to myself. 

The sky lit up with explosion after explosion, everyone stopped in their tracks and watched the display. Sounds of awe surrounded me as the crowd enjoyed the beauty going on overhead. Part of me wished that Arthur was standing next to me so we could enjoy them together, I wondered if he found them as pretty as I did. 

It occurred to me then, as I enjoyed that small moment of peace where I didn't have to think of anything but the celebrations going on around me, that it was my birthday. I'd honestly forgotten. I smiled to myself, figuring that attending a fancy ball, never mind the purpose of doing so, had been a memorable experience for a birthday to say the least.

-

"I've never felt so awkward in all my life," Bill was grumbling once we were all back in the coach heading back to camp after the party. He carried on muttering about how awful the party was, much to my amusement. I kept quiet, though, only smiling to myself as to not rile him up further. I'd spotted him ambling about the place in his too short pants, wondering what to do with himself. He was a fish out of water in that place.

I realised Bill had stopped complaining when Arthur handed a piece of paper to Dutch, who's eyes seemed to light up at whatever it was. It seemed like we'd come away with a few decent leads; Hosea might've found a bank to rob, Dutch mentioned a trolley station and a poker game on a boat that could be of use. I waited until we were clear of the party to explain my findings, and Dutch didn't hesitate to ask me what I'd been doing as soon as there was a lull in the conversation on the way home. 

"Did you find anything of interest, my dear?" He asked casually, he almost sounded as if he wasn't hopeful.

"I believe I did, if you have a couple men free next Saturday evening," I began, and Dutch raised his brows with intrigue. 

"Oh?" 

All four men looked at me interestedly. 

"I got talking with this art dealer, I arranged to view some paintings. He's bringing them up from Saint Denis to Valentine, so my thinking was you fellers could intercept somewhere along the way and take them off his hands," I explained, looking between Hosea and Dutch in particular for approval, "preferably without putting a bullet in him," I added.

"Paintings?" Hosea repeated, then gestured to Arthur, "Seamus'd know what to do with those. You could take them to him."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

"I think they're worth a fair bit," I told them, and Dutch hummed.

"Not bad," he appraised, then glanced at Arthur, "could be one for you and Lenny. Maybe one more."

"Take John with you," Hosea suggested.

"Alright. Well done, I knew you'd make yourself useful," Arthur smiled at me, and my heart fluttered with pride.

[dontfeedthebear]

Today’s menu!

 Breakfast: 1 overeasy egg, slice of toast, 1 tsp butter, 1 nectarine, cup of coffee with 1tbsp milk + 1tsp sugar. (304 cal) Lunch: 6 veggie pizza stuffed mushrooms over a bed of brown rice. (241 cal) Dinner: Cream of wheat, 2tsp brown sugar, 1/2 grapefruit. (295 cal) Snack: Pickled cucumbers and peppers (30 cal)

TOTAL: 870 cal.

Yes, I am having ‘breakfast’ for dinner. Why? I work night shift, and that ‘dinner’ is actually going to be had at about 7:00 am.

My way of doing things is going to be weird to most people that read this, since I live my life like a nocturnal little gremlin. I’ve never been big on eating in the mornings, I’ve always been a night owl who slept in past breakfast time... I just can’t seem to make myself eat in the morning and if I do, it definitely can’t be anything heavy like burgers or chicken. It just feels wrong.

Some people might ask: “What fad diet are you following?”

The answer is: None... I’m simply eating normal food at the correct portion size. (and counting calories because there’s no losing weight without math apparently.)

I got the idea to diet when I was browsing an antique store and found a really pretty dress from the 1950′s. Waist sizes were an average 11 inches smaller than average waistlines today.

Most old clothing is pretty small, and while it’s to be expected since the 20′s-40′s were a period of scarcity and doing without, the 1950′s were actually an upturn. People had money and they were consumers again! Yay capitalism!

It was also a period of dubious culinary experimentation. I will never, ever let an ‘aspic’ touch my lips. Leftovers are fine. Jello is fine. Together? They make the worst matrimony of both spongy and slippery textures. I imagine it’s a lot like eating boiled slugs gone cold and I will not waste food or time on such revolting endeavors...

So how did they stay so skinny, despite eating jello molds of foods laden with lard, butter, sugar, gluten and everything bad that today’s diet gurus preach against? Simple. Serving sizes were smaller and people actually ate from 7 food groups not the 4 we have today. There were also more veggies and fruit in their diet! Shocking concept I know.

Our food pyramid has changed drastically from that 1950′s model and several times in the last few decades. The 1970′s brought on the beginning of the end to tiny waistlines: the lowfat, high carb diet came into fashion and our waist lines exploded. Turns out that lowfat isn’t exactly the healthiest diet after all. (Not to mention that insipid eggs & wine diet that Vogue reprinted. How vile the bathrooms must have smelled afterwards!)

I have noticed while studying about diets that the trend is to idolize one ‘superfood’ or to gravitate to one type of food group. Atkins, Fruitarianism, anyone? That shit has to stop. We are omnivores, evolved with the teeth and everything. We need a balanced diet, which means a rotating plate of protein, fats, starch, vegetables and fruits. The fad diets need to end, because they are literally killing people. Talk to a doctor if you want to go on a special diet. Not some holistic nutjob though, please. 

Anyway...

My mother was an awful cook. She was the product of a household that just cooked to fill your stomach up and not really about making something that tasted good or was actually good for you. Quantity was the name of the game in my grandmother’s household. I barely remember her meals whenever I visited, most of it was boxed or frozen. My mother continued that trend, sadly.

I associated home cooked meals with rubbery, overcooked chicken, dried out fish fillets, tough as leather pork chops and chewy, stringy cuts of beef. So I lived off sandwiches and snacks like chips, cakes, and cookies. Not to mention my biggest weakness: Soda. I drank liters of the shit at a time and I could not tell you if I ever drank a glass of water as a kid and not be made a liar. I’ve probably permanently damaged my kidneys and liver from filtering coca-cola for years. (how my teeth survived this long is a miracle!)

I always hated pork and fish. I was extremely picky about beef too. Chicken was on thin ice, but I only liked it fried or smothered in cheese. I ate a lot of pasta, rice, and bread.

It clicked for me when I went to dinner at a friend’s house and her parents cooked salmon. I was paralyzed with the fear of being rude but salmon was the number one fish I despised. It was like eating tuna from a can but served hot and with a strong biting aftertaste. So I took a small portion with the intent to gag it down and fill my stomach with some rice.

Imagine my consternation when the salmon was soft, delicate and not ‘fishy’ at all. It tasted of butter, lemon and salt and I think I ate two helpings of it. Puzzled, I asked them what kind of salmon it was-- they said frozen sockeye, which really confused me because that was the same thing my mother used.

Eating my mother’s salmon the next week confirmed my fears: She couldn’t cook and I didn’t hate certain foods. I just couldn’t stomach her cooking. I think mom had a deep fear of food poisoning, which is why she cooked every piece of meat in our house to death. I never asked why and I never told her how I felt and she lives in ignorance of her failing every day. (My siblings know though, I caught their blank 50 yard stares when we visited her a few months back and had to eat her shoeleather porkchops.)

I was not confident in cooking for myself either, because I didn’t have anyone to teach me. Youtube wasn’t around at that time-- and even if it was I didn’t know about it. Ah, the infancy of the internet... I’m so glad the information highway has expanded today because now I have taught myself quite a lot of things besides how to actually cook a slice of meat or bake a cake.

Times have  certainly changed, sometimes for the worst. But a free and open internet is one thing I hope never changes, because I want to learn how to sew next.

[hoodoo12]

Patience head canons

A few things came to me regarding my favorite of @dorklyevil‘s Virtue Ricks: Patience. I combined them with my favorite writing challenge, which is a list of random words you need to use in a sentence. I’m tagging @porkchop-ao3 too because she is stellar at brainstorming.

Be forewarned that these aren’t worth much. Some do have further explanations, and need further exploration. Some are dumb. Some are nothing. But character building is like that . . .

SFW. Patience Rick/reader. Snippets of thoughts, which means not everything is explicitly explained (although if you’re curious, please ask!).

⁂

Veganism “A double cheeseburger, please.”

You did a double-take, which he took in stride.

“You eat meat?”

“Yes. Is that a problem? Are you a vegan?”

“No, no--I thought you were!”

Patience shook his head. “No. I like steak and char sui bao and cedar-grilled salmon. I’m not a vegan. Never have been.”

You filed that away under things that surprised you about him.

Stuttering “Most Ricks,” he explained quietly, “allow their minds to shatter with thought, speeding in a hundred different directions all at the same time. I, however, try to focus and be more deliberate, which is why I rarely stutter or trip over my words. Not that it can’t happen, to be sure, in the heat of a moment . . .”

What does he wear under those robes? You laughed in surprised delight one night, early in your relationship, when you discovered Patience wearing nothing under his yukata. You made a joke about him “being ready for action!” and didn’t think anything more about it because other, more physical things demanded your attention.

It wasn’t until the next time, and the time after that, and again, that you realized he routinely didn’t wear undergarments.

He laughed at your shocked reaction to this revelation.

Scar “Are you ever going to tell me what happened? How you got that scar?”

Patience smiled down at you. “Maybe someday . . .” he teased.

“Come on!” you needled and he laughed, then said,

“You should’ve seen the other guy.”

Your insistent teasing faltered as the meaning of his answer seeped into your comprehension. He sounded like he was joking, what he said was what guys typically said, but you couldn’t help but ask, “You . . . you got it fighting?”

“Finishing a fight,” he corrected.

You tried to wrap your head around this information. This was Patience. He was calm and composed and more likely to wait until the oceans dried up before resorting to physical violence--

He lifted an eyebrow at the expression on your face. “That surprises you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does!”

“Just because I strive to live life slowly doesn’t mean that everyone else is kind and gentle with me, or that I am incapable of defending myself. Or . . .”

He paused and his brow furrowed. His hand went to the very scar you were talking about; the one that when it happened must have split open his forehead and left him blinded by the blood that poured from it. More quietly, more ruefully, he added,

“It doesn’t mean I haven’t made mistakes or gone against my nature. Or that I’ve always been as you see me now.”

It was still difficult for you to fit this information into the puzzle of his life. He saw your continued confusion and gave you a smile. “Is it so odd that occasionally we aren’t ourselves? Wrath’s volatile nature has been tempered somewhat, when he is accompanied by Kindness. No one thinks that is a bad thing. My only fault is that my lapse . . . ended like this.”

He briefly touched his scar again. His smile was melancholy, you realized, because what he called his ‘misstep’ would be considered a grievous mistake, while Wrath’s would be lauded.

Tea “I drink all flavors tea. Black, green, oolong, white, pu-erh. I like kombucha as well. There is a delightful milk oolong that I purchase sometimes, and a cream Earl Grey that is a special treat. I will also occasionally imbibe with what they call herbal teas--”

Boring “--which are not technically teas at all! They should more correctly be called tisanes. Only one plant, Camelia sinesis, produces all the aforementioned flavors of tea; what differs and creates the varying flavors is the processing after the tea leaf is harvested. Black is the most heavily oxidized. White teas are the least, and everything else is in between. To get the highly prized bright green color and intense flavor of matcha, the leaves are shaded so their chorophyll is concentrated, and once collected and dried, they are ground to a powder. Gyokuro are those same leaves, unground, and they are delicious to eat, after the tea they’ve made has been consumed.

“Regarding the herbal tisanes, most any plant can be used, but depending on which part of the plant--leaves versus roots, for example--perhaps an infusion would be a better descriptor for the process. I am partial to a chamomile tisane sweetened with lavender honey before I retire for the evening. Herbals don’t have the caffeine like tea does, and yerba mate is an excellent choice if you wish to avoid the stimulant.

“I have several books on the subject and have taken classes with fellow tea aficionados. I also have a wide variety of loose leaf teas; would you like to try them? I can set up a tasting and explain each one, including the process by which it is made, the correct temperature at which the water should be to brew it correctly . . . I could even set up different types of the same tea--green, for example, and we could explore Japanese versus Chinese, single estate versus something more commercially produced.

“And did you know that some teas are better after their second or third brewing? There is a specific oolong that is best brewed five or six times! There is so much to explore regarding teas and tisanes and I could go on for a very long time about it--”

Feet Patience’s feet weren’t ticklish. He rarely wore shoes, and his soles were calloused and less sensitive than someone who did. Even through the streets of the Citadel, he went barefoot.

“I would rather walk,” he replied with a shrug, when you suggested a portal gun would get the two of you to your destination more quickly. “Portalling is convenient, but then we miss out on so much along the way.”

Fog It made you nervous, so you clutched at his hand and tried to match his long strides. He, sensing your unease, slowed his steps for you. He also shook his hand out of your grip and slipped his arm around your waist. You’d have a hard time explaining your fear, walking in this fog--you’d be loathe to admit it was because you had played too many survival horror video games!--but luckily, he simply understood and didn’t question it or mock you.

Believe “Believe me, he would put my vow to the test ,” Patience chuckled quietly, with a nod to the Wrath, who was simultaneously ranting about something and brushing Kindness’s locks. “‘Ness has some special power, I think.”

Tradition “I may prefer to wear a yukata or kimono, and it may be tradition, but I am not wearing a fundoshi!”

Snow “Look at the snow! It’s really coming down out there.”

“It’s up to your knees out there . . .”

“I guess I should start getting home.”

“Baby, it’s cold outside . . .”

“ . . . you do know those aren’t the lyrics to that song, right?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe just a half a drink more?”

You snorted your laughter at him as you nodded your head.

Adorable He had several thousand hair ties. On very rare occasions he wore one with a tiny bell attached to it, which you found ridiculously adorable.

Pattern “Walk with me?” he asked, so you did.

It was a winding path, with sharp cut backs and turns. It looped around and around on itself; if you closed your eyes and let him lead you by holding your hand, you grew dizzy. Sometimes he made an observation, sometimes you did. At one point it felt right to go up on your tiptoes and walk with your arms stretched outward, like you were balancing on a tightrope.

There were no walls on this path. It was marked by bricks in the ground, and at the very center of it was a small bench. Anyone who didn’t know the path was there would have thought you looked like fools traipsing back and forth, instead of just walking to the bench and sitting down.

But labyrinths were made with twists and turns in a very specific pattern, Patience explained as he sat next to you. They lead into a center, and then back out again. They were a mediation tool, and he hoped you liked it.

Sun You’d walked a labyrinth with him, and let the sun warm you gently while he continued to explain, “Mazes are for getting lost. Labyrinths are for finding.”

Red Patience had several, and of course he had some that he preferred over others, but your favorite yukata that he owned was monochromatic in red, with a very subtle dragon and phoenix motif woven into it.

White His robes may have been different colors, but his belt was always white.

Watch “You never wear a watch.”

“And you always do,” he countered.

Walk Your paces were different—yours brisk and businesslike, his deliberate by habit—but eventually walking together felt natural.

Run “—go!  Put your head down and just go!” The deadly serious tone in Patience’s voice scared you more than anything yet tonight, until you looked in his face and saw the same severe, alarming expression there too.  It was a look more at home on Wrath’s face, not Patience’s.  He grabbed your upper arms in a grip that was so tight it pinched and gave you a push.  “Run!  Don’t stop, don’t look back—just run!”

Formal The fact that Patience kept a formal, neatly attended miniature Zen garden in his room did not surprise you.

Short Patience was tall and you were short, but the height difference never seemed to be a concern or a hindrance.

Horizon Habitually he was up before the dawn, and habitually you wanted to sleep late. But occasionally, Patience would gather you up—swaddled in blankets and all—and carry you out to the porch steps so you could watch the sun creep above the horizon together.

War Those who knew him bought him books on feudal Japan and war; those who really knew him bought him books on Japanese art.

Sarcasm He didn’t use it often—he thought it was rude and he should be above it—but when Patience resorted to sarcasm, it was worth it.

Speed “Nope, never tried anything—not pot or speed or coke.”

Coffee You never saw him drink it, although it didn’t surprise you he had the talent for making some of the best French press coffee you’d ever had.

Oil A sharp, astringent odor assaulted your nose. It took a second, but when you untangled your fingers from his and raised your hand to your face, the smell wafted more strongly to you.

Patience saw the disgusted and perplexed expression on your face and he immediately got up and left the room to go to the kitchen. Over the sounds of running of water in the sink and hands being scrubbed he called out an apology.

“I’m sorry, dearest. I neglected to wash my hands of the gun oil.”

You had gotten up to follow him, to wash your hands too, but stopped short at his explanation. Gun oil? Gun oil? You knew what it was, but couldn’t make it stick anywhere with anything; those two words and Patience didn’t match. Your heart was suddenly in your throat, and you were chilled out of the blue by a cold spike of fear.

Hands His fingers were long. He kept his nails neatly trimmed, and his fingertips were very lightly calloused. He had a faded scar at the base of the third finger on his left hand. The mark was very small, running perpendicular to his digit. He never told you what it was from, but your suspicion was it made by a ring that had cut him when it had been pushed too far back on his finger. He didn’t wear a ring now, and you weren’t sure how to ask about it. So you didn’t, but you wondered a lot.

Laugh Patience’s laugh was full and deep, and unlike some men, he wasn’t shy about it.

[chlomoheberkowitz-blog]

The sky was always grey,

when I was a boy and lived by the Sea.

Recipe time you things of meat.

Chapter 8- When did you think I loved you? (porkchops biatch)

You wake up. You had had a terrible dream, you couldn't run, you couldn't speak, you never speak in your dreams. The sky was grey, there was a man.

You've only slept for four hours but you're so hungry so you stumble to the kitchen. You look out the kitchen window, the sky is grey. There is hardly anything in the fridge and your microwave isn't working so you have to make porkchops. This is a problem. You only like porkchops when cooked slowly and you feel like you are sick with hunger, you don't even have any bread or chips in the house. It hasn't been safe outside lately.

You decide to sleep through it.

You've no vegetables so you unwrap all three porkchops and put them into a glass baking pan. You turn on the oven and set it to 275. You then take out salt, cayenne, and barbecue sauce. The last of the barbecue sauce. Should you risk getting barbecue sauce on your literal grocery run tomorrow? Pale light streams in and shades the kitchen counter a strange shade of salmon. You lift each porkchop and put salt, cayenne, and barbecue sauce in the pan. You shake salt and cayennne directly onto each slab of meat and place them into the pan, beating them in frustration at the futility and also for tenderization. You pour more barbecue onto the chops. None left now. You put some water in the pan and seal it with tin foil. You put the pan into the oven before it's even done preheating and set the timer to 2 hours. You sleep on the kitchen floor. You're doing this more and more often.

R e c e d e.

The sky is violently grey. You are at the top of a lighthouse. You walk down old cellar style steps. The inside is hollow and the floor is grass. You don't actually know what a lighthouse is like on the inside. You are outside now, you didn't walk through the door. You feel the waves washing up on the rocks a hundred feet bellow you. The cliffs you're on are lush with clover, and you see a port down by the bay not three miles away. There is a man. You see him when he is at that distance where you are fairly sure when something is human but not quite. He is just within polite speaking distance now. You say nothing. You never say anything in dreams. You still are only fairly sure. He says, "When I was a boy I lived by the sea, my mother would tend to the shop in town and my father would go fishing. My sisters and I stayed home and watched the fire and played with bread. The sky was always grey." The man's breath smells like pennies and he is twice your size, "Sometimes I would run down the road with my dog Sir Uleaden Heart. We ate fish twice a week, and my grandfather would give me lessons on carpentry and lying." The man is made of spiders.

"One day the town was washed away. My mother and father went with it. The sky was so grey. There were no clouds. Only grey. We started to run out of food after a time, the fish were gone, no forests or farms for many miles. No horses. A lighthouse with a feeble old man and three children. Not even a dog. Some of the others who lived outside of town had been saying something was making all the roads out impassable. Grey and windy and wet and grey. Like a wall. No one new had passed through all month. It was possible no one outside had even known what happened to us."

You heard the voice of no one whisper in Welsh into your ear. You don't speak Welsh, your hands are snakes and the man continues, "I went to see The Wall. We'd had no food for two days. I didn't even try to get through, it was like our town town was inside the eye of a great storm. Just beyond the grey I saw a woman made of light." It is raining heavily and your tears are lost in it. You did not know you were crying.

Beep.

You woke up. The meat was done. It was more delicious and tender than any pork you'd had in recent memory. You looked out the window, there were no clouds. The sky was grey.

[toucanarama]

Tagged Post!

Thanks for tagging me baby! RULES: Answer all the questions, add one of your own and tag as many people as there are questions 1. COKE OR PEPSI: Dr. pepper, but if I had to choose I choose Coke all the way 2. DISNEY OR DREAMWORKS: Disney 3. COFFEE OR TEA: I drink coffee more than tea, but I don't really care for either 4. BOOKS OR MOVIES: I love books but I don't have the ability to get lost in them like I used to T^T 5. WINDOWS OR MAC: For a computer im going with windows 6. DC OR MARVEL: mmmmmmmm that's hard bro msnsjsjdn i guess DC cause they have the whole Batman universe which includes Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy! 7. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION: I'm neither, I play 3ds, WII, and GameCube 8. DRAGON AGE OR MASS EFFECT: I haven’t played either,... 9. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY RISER: Night owl normally, but if I'm tired I go to bed 10. CARDS OR CHESS: Cards, cause there's so many different games you can play with cards! 11. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA: Depends on what it is, normally I choose vanilla if it's anything dairy related 12. VANS OR CONVERSE: I'm the girl who wears converse with her flannel 😜 13. LAVELLAN, TREVELYAN, CADASH, OR ADAAR: Idk what this is from so idk m8 14. FLUFF OR ANGST: angst,,,,,I am the embodiment of angst 15. BEACH OR FOREST: Forest 16. DOGS OR CATS: Doggos, but I love all animals :3 17. CLEAR SKIES OR RAIN: rain cause it's relaxing, especially if I'm anxious 18. COOKING OR EATING OUT: I don't like cooking much unless I'm really motivated, so eating out..? 19. SPICY OR MILD FOOD: mild ((spicy food gives me bad heartburn from my GERD)) 20. HALLOWEEN/SAMHAIN OR SOLSTICE/YULE/CHRISTMAS: Halloween is one of my faves, but I think Hanukkah tops it!!! I love eating salmon patties and latkes with my family! 21. WOULD YOU RATHER FOREVER BE A LITTLE TOO COLD OR A LITTLE TOO HOT: a little too cold, you can always add more layers but can only take away so many. 22. IF YOU COULD HAVE A SUPERPOWER WHAT WOULD IT BE: the power to chill the fuck out™ 23. ANIMATION OR LIVE ACTION: Animation all the way!!!! 24. PARAGON OR RENEGADE: I haven’t played mass effect... 25. BATH OR SHOWER: shower, but I wouldn't mind a bath if it was warm and had nice smelling soap :3 26. TEAM CAP OR TEAM IRONMAN: Team Cap yo 27. FANTASY OR SCI-FI: Fuck that's a hard choice,,,,, but if I had to choose I would say SVU-If, but fantasy is a close second! 28. DO YOU HAVE 3 OR 4 FAVORITE QUOTES IF SO WHAT ARE THEY: "if every porkchop were perfect, we wouldn't have hotdogs." "the only thing that defines me is me." Idk any more,,, 29. YOUTUBE OR NETFLIX: Netflix, I love watching some quality shows 30. HARRY POTTER OR PERCY JACKSON: Harry Potter cause I haven't read the PJ series 31. STAR WARS OR STAR TREK: Star Wars ((I haven't seen either :0 fml)) 32. PAPERBACK BOOKS OR HARDCOVER BOOKS: Hardcover, live the feel of new books tbh 33. FANTASTIC BEASTS OR CURSED CHILD: Fantastic Beasts!!! 34. ROCK OR POP MUSIC: Rock all the way! 35. WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN YOUR LIFE: My gf, @queerheath 36. THE LAST BOOK YOU READ/THE ONE YOU’RE CURRENTLY READING: I'll Give You the Sun 38: SONG THAT MAKES YOU SMILE/SONG THAT MAKES YOU CRY: hallelujah 39. SUSHI OR WAN TAN SOUP: Wan tan soup 40. SPRING OR AUTUMN: Autumn I enjoy the cool weather plus pumpkins plus caramel apples 41. DRAWING OR WRITING: drawing, it's really calming to me 42. SINGING OR DANCING: Singing when no one is listening 43. TV SHOW/MOVIE/BOOK THATS LIKE YOUR HAPPY PLACE SOMETHING THAT ALWAYS MAKES YOU SMILE: Steven Universe or the Office! 44. FIRST GOOD CHILDHOOD MEMORY THAT POPS INTO YOUR HEAD: celebrating Hanukkah with my not jewish neighbor so I could teach her how you day the prayers!!!! 45. IF YOU COULD VISIT ANY HISTORICAL TIME PERIOD, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY? : none cause in all scenarios I would be killed or something along those lines 46. PINEAPPLE PIZZA OR NAH? Blehhhhh 47. TV OR MOVIE? Tv 48. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR: anything not chocolate based! 49. WHAT FICTIONAL CHARACTER DO YOU RELATE MOST TO?: Smoky Quartz, they're full of self hatred and I relate to that on a lot of levels. 50. LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO?: TBH I don't remember off the top of my head rip 51. TOP 5 OTPS?: Stevonnie, Rupphire, Jam (Jim x Pam), lapidot, amedot 52. What makes you happy: @queerheath and also cuddling my dog! 53. A song you can’t get out of your head no matter what: Migraine by Tøp 54. Languages other than English that you know: I tag @umawkwardturtle @posponedora @fearfulporpentine @moonfire-works-o-art @euclidclass @thesketchqueen and anyone else who wants to do it!

[whatspriceofthe]

Purchase ENKLOV Detachable Basket Auto Shut Off Cold Circulation with Timer Control Recipes Cookbook Oilless Hot Air Fryer Oven with 360° Rapid Easy Cleanup Heat Protection 5.5QT Black, Discount Link is -- https://amzn.to/33mvHMn #Microwave #OTG #AirFryer Amzon Prime : Great Deals Blockbuster Entertainment - https://bit.ly/3fjO0UO Audible : Books that speak to you - https://bit.ly/2PdVw94 Amazon Business : Your One Stop Solution for Business Purchases - https://bit.ly/3hYIkBs https://amzn.to/33mvHMn - ENKLOV Detachable Basket Auto Shut Off Cold Circulation with Timer Control Recipes Cookbook Oilless Hot Air Fryer Oven with 360° Rapid Easy Cleanup Heat Protection 5.5QT Black Very easy to use. I use to cook chicken nuggets and ready made fried shrimp. It tastes better than microwave. The food is more crispy.Great product Ive been wanting to try a. Air fryer for a long while and finally decided to give it a go. Now I wish I did sooner!My chicken wings came out crispy and cooked just right but with no oil! I was surprised how close they looked to being fried. They were also moist inside and done well.The air fryer does have an exhaust so do keep in mind that it will produce some heat and smell but not as much as frying of course so thats good to have. It takes about 3 minutes to preheat and then its ready to go. My wings were done in 20mins. Which is alot faster than it used to take me to do great wings especially if I baked them.I recommend this for anyone thinking of trying an air fryer. I love my 'no mess" air fryer. I have cooked chicken, pork chops, shrimp, salmon and turkey burgers. All of the dishes were delicious. I highly recommend this air fryer if you ate considering purchasing one. Light and compact. Cooks food evenly and quickly. Can’t wait to use it again! Okay so this air fryer looks better in person. I didn’t expect it to be so big and look expensive. I do have to say this is my first air fryer so the first time I used it I had the food in there while preheating (bad idea). Now that I’ve used it a few days I like that once it’s preheated (usually takes 15 min) food cooks in like half the time it would in the oven and probably the same time it would in hot oil. Less mess than actually using oil and healthier too. This product is FANTASTIC!!! Food tastes great, amazing how much grease this cuts out! Just wipes clean after use, would definitely recommend. Actually bought a second one as a gift! We love this Air Fryer! Super easy to use and cooks food to perfection. We love making empanadas and chicken fingers. They come out crispy and delicious without the added fat! I highly recommend this Air Fryer! This thing is amazing. The wife was craving for some wings but she did not want it from my regular fryer because it takes a lot of oil. We saw this air fryer on Amazon day and decided to get it. We bought a pack of chicken wings to try it out and these came out AMAZING. We left the machine running for 30 minutes instead of 22 as the recipe book that came with it suggested. These came extra crispy. I didn’t use any salt or pepper because the Sweet Baby sauce we use brings a lot of flavors (honey barbecue).I love my regular oil fryer and was skeptical about this but trying the wings I was not disappointed. I use this air fryer multiple times a week! Love it - easy to use. This air fryer has changed the way I cook my meals. One of my favorite things to cook is chicken wings. With this air fryer, I can just add the chicken wings (with no oil needed), set it for about 22 minutes, and then enjoy juicy wings with crispy skin.I use this air fryer almost everyday, cooking pork chops, chicken thighs, and chicken wings. None of those meats required any oil. Great air fryer, easy to use and easy to clean. Plenty of room to cook for my family. Thankful for coming across this product! With so many air fryers now on the market, I chose this air fryer mostly because of the price and capacity. This fryer does everything it promises -I made crispy fried porkchops and Ribs and they both came out amazing!! I would recommend this GREAT PRODUCT to all my friends and family! ! The only thing that I would have liked to improve on this order is a more detailed information guide on how long to cook more options. Otherwise, it works great! I bought this to replace my 3.7 qt. Somehow they are exactly the same size. Not as big as I thought it would be. I actually purchased this .. by Amazon Discounts

[riceanonymous-blog]

DAY 1

Alright, so I’ve officially completed 1 whole day of eating PALEO!

So heres the honest verdict: I am the most extra, dramatic, sensitive person without carbs. I’m filipino, so I feel like being addicted to rice is truly something painful to break being that I eat rice 3x a day with every meal.

But honestly, I got through the day. It was tough, I was crazy and mean. But I DID IT.

Heres what I ate:

7 am ; 1) I made Bulletproof Coffee: MCT oil, grass fed unsalted butter, & black coffee/ I used Petes (which is not my fave but it did what it needed to do)

2) I made a smoothie to act as my breakfast: Blueberry, Strawberry, Mango, Spinach, Kale, more MCT and organic unsweetened vanilla almond milk.

around 10 am .... I got hungry -______________- So, I drank a TON of water. I put chia seeds in my water as a deperate attempt to fill my belly. Ugh. This sucked. But nevertheless, I did it.

12:30 LUNCH! The night before I made my family salmon and green beans, so obviously, I ate the same for lunch sans the rice. It was good. But... there was no rice, and my body knew it. & my body hated me for it. But I shushed it with some baby carrots, and you guessed it... A LOT MORE WATER.

For the rest of the day I was okay until about 4:30.

@ This point I got shaky, dizzy, irritable, forgetful, dazed....

I looked it up and apparently this is a thing. It’s called the “induction flu”.

I drank way more water, ate more carrots & got home finally around 5:30 to make food.

5:30 pm I grilled porkchops and ate this over a TUB of spring field mixed greens. I also added cilantro and mint because I needed some kind of flavor. I used lime and a LITTLE BRAGGS ginger sesame dressing.

*SIDE NOTE: I COOKED WHITE RICE FOR MY HUSBAND AND CHILD & I HAD NO TEMPTATION TO EAT IT. I FELT TOO PRIDEFUL TO CAVE AFTER I WENT THROUGH A WHOLE DAY OF WHAT FELT LIKE HELL.

Around 6:30 I became extremely and I mean EXTREMELY irritable. I yelled at my husband, got dramatic, acted like the world was ending and luckily enough he’s supportive and totally loving and he forgave me rather quickly..

I’m realizing that my husband is my safe place and he totally and definitely takes care of me. We might not have everything in the world, but times like this remind me that we have each other. If he didn’t act the way he did towards me last night, I may have caved and ate a tub of ice cream, but he’s good to me. & I survived my first day, CARB FREE.

7:30 I snacked on beef jerky and a  smoothie w/ almond Milk, bananas, dates, kale, and matcha.

I went to bed happily around 10.

WHICH NOW BRINGS US TO DAY 2!!!! My bestfriend, Laura, is starting today so I’m kind of excited to have somebody else join my misery! 

wish us luck :)

- A recovering rice addict.