#i have a bunch more dishes to photograph too but it's cold out :(

[desperatepleasures]

ok well i was about $1800 in the red this year lmao...could be worse [edit: jk i forgot to include the $260 i paid in et/sy fees this year LMAO...ah well]

[itstokkii]

A Week with Turkitty: Day 2

Day 1 | Day 2

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Morning came, the sunlight streaming through her lace curtains. She felt something wriggling, light tufts of fur brushing against her knuckles.

She opened her eyes to see a cat sleeping next to her.

"You're supposed to be in the guestroom..." she sighed before getting up to wash up and make breakfast for the both of them.

Turkey awoke to the smell of kielbasa, and made his way to the kitchen to see Uzbekistan preparing the green tea for breakfast.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She asked him, her eyes concentrated on the hot water she was pouring from the kettle to the teapot.

Turkey meowed and closed his eyes satisfactorily.

Every night is a good night when I'm sleeping next to-

"But you can't sleep in my bed." Uzbekistan's voice cut him out of his thoughts.

What?!? Why??

"I know you're a kitty, but I don't want your fur all over my pillows, sheets, and comforters. There's a guestroom over there with a bed as well, why not seize the opportunity?" She placed the teapot carefully on the table, sat down, and turned on the TV.

The news channel was droning on about what the next few years had in store for Uzbekistan's urban landscape, but given that she knew all of that already, she sighed and switched to the sports channel, where a rerun of a soccer game from last night played. As per usual, Turkey was the first to finish his food, while Uzbekistan took her time. They were both engrossed in the soccer game, Turkey more so.

She watched as his pupils dilated and giggled. "Same old Turkey!"

All his frustration and excited yells at the game were now reduced to cute meows. He hated it. She, however, relished in it, snapping a few pictures and videos to send to the group chat.

When it was halftime, she began to clean up the table, placing the dishes in the sink. She quickly changed into her pantsuit and then sat down in front of him.

"I have to go back to work really quickly since I forgot my purse. I’m bringing you with me because as a cat you’re quite helple-Ahaha! What are you doing? Stop!" Uzbekistan burst into giggles and mustered her remaining strength to look at the criminal sitting on her lap. Turkey was too busy kneading tiny biscuits into her thigh to listen.

"Cut that out! Please! No!" She pulled him off of her in between her laughs. "Look, I'll add another rule. You can't touch me. I mean, gentle touching is fine, but whatever you were doing just now? Don't do that."

She brought out the cat carrier, placing it on the floor with a resounding clang. The orange cat pulled at her leg, hissing at the cage.

There’s no way you’re stuffing me in that!

Uzbekistan sighed. “Look, I know it’s cramped and cold. But I honestly can’t think of a better idea to carry you around safely—Wait! I think I have an idea. I’ll be back.” She ran into her bedroom.

In the meantime, Turkey pranced around back and forth before spotting the cabinet from the corner of his eye. She was right about there being all sorts of precious wares…crystalware…and a commemoration plate of Misha the Bear from the 1980 Olympics that he had boycotted. The other Turkics would talk about it from time to time, and he’d be completely lost. He had tried to ask them about it once.

“Oh right, I forgot,” Turkmenistan sighed, “You missed out. On like, a lot. So much time and effort and meticulous planning…”

“Hey, it’s no big deal, Turkey! You can still watch the recorded footage on Youtube! ‘Course, it won’t be the same, but you’ll still feel a sliver of what we had felt.” Kyrgyzstan patted him on the back.

…Yeah, they probably had a grudge.

On one shelf, he’d found a bunch of old black-and-white photographs of what seemed like her, her siblings, and of others. In one of them, she was in a kitchen with Ukraine, both of them laughing and folding varenyky together. Another was a family photo, with Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Kyrgyzstan standing up, and Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan sitting down on chairs. Kyrgyzstan had a hand resting on the top of Kazakhstan’s chair, while Turkmenistan placed a hand on Uzbekistan’s shoulder. 

There was also a photocopied painting of her from her time as the Bukharan Khanate. The artist was quite talented, capturing her regal look, the many decorations and jewelry that accessorized her clothing, down to the embroidery. But he had to admit, nothing compared to seeing her like that in real life all those years ago, when she was still a stickler for rules, but was energetic and had more light in her eyes. Nargiza insisted the change was because she had “matured into an adult,” though he felt there was more to it than that.

“I was pretty back then, too, wasn’t I?” Uzbekistan chuckled as she came out of the room with a designer tote bag.

“Here. I hope this will feel more comfortable and if not, it’s at least a disguise since I’m actually not allowed to bring animals inside the office.” 

Turkey hopped into the bag. His tiny cat legs brushed against her other supplies: her makeup pouch, a portable phone charger, a few snacks, and her wallet.

“Careful, by the way. This is designer.” Nargiza put on her heels, grabbed her bag, and got in her car.

‎‧₊˚✧[🇹🇷🇺🇿]✧˚₊‧

“Hello, Miss.”

“Hello.” She gave her assistant a gentle nod.

“I thought you were on break?”

“Well, yes, but I forgot my clutch purse on my desk. I came here to retrieve i—what’s wrong.”

Her assistant shifted his weight on one foot to the other. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice, but…there’s something in your bag. It’s quite furry.” 

If Turkey could sweat, he would right now. 

“A-ah! Well-! That’s my—”

“It actually looks like a cat. Miss Uzbekistan, did you bring a ca—”

“Shh! Yes, I did. A…friend dropped it over at my house to take care of. I couldn’t just leave it at home.”

“...Can I take a couple pictures?” Her assistant slowly held up his phone.

“Who are you going to show it to?”

“Oh, just my family at home. You know how my daughter loves cats…”

“Sure. Just don’t disturb the cat.”

‎‧₊˚✧[🇹🇷🇺🇿]✧˚₊‧

Turkey was groaning for the past five minutes ever since they had left her office. 

Come on…Think about my dignity! My pride as a man! To be taken photos of and shown to little girls…This isn’t right!

Uzbekistan sighed. “He’s a responsible guy, hence why I chose him as my assistant. Your photos are safe.”

YOU CHOSE A GUY TO ASSIST YOU AT WORK???

“Please be quiet. My stomach is rumbling…How about some lavash?

Turkey cocked his head to the side.

We’re having…bread for lunch…?

“Lavash…you know, like kebab?”

Oh.

Turkey sat on the table and snacked on a mini lavash Uzbekistan had the vendor make for him, while she munched on a larger one fit for a human’s stomach, petting him with her clean hand. Turkey still couldn’t get over how clear everyone’s voices were in the mall, overlapping each other like newspaper clippings.

“So, what do you think?”

Turkey meowed, his eyes dilating.

“Ahaha! So cute…your eyes are getting bigger! So you do like it, hmm?” She scratched behind his ears and below his neck.

God, this is embarrassing…But it feels so good…

He leaned into her touch, and at this point Uzbekistan laughed louder, placing a hand on her mouth so as to muffle them.

“We still need to go grocery shopping for your tuna,” she said as she wiped his mouth with a napkin before placing him in her bag. 

She hauled 8 cans of tuna, along with her already heavy tote bag thanks to a certain orange cat, back to her car.

“Who knew tuna was so expensive these days?”

If Turkey could speak, he would have probably reminded her of her economy and the fact that she was a landlocked country where the only tuna she'd be getting are imported. But he had a feeling she knew that already.

The ride home was mainly silent, occasionally interrupted by Uzbekistan awkwardly trying to make small talk with a cat, who could only respond in meows and chirps she was unable to understand.

“Ah, what a long day…” Uzbekistan kicked off her shoes and flopped on her couch. 

“But I can't relax yet. I need to give you a bath.” 

G-give me a bath?! Turkey's face scrunched up. Don't you know cats clean themselves?

“Usually, I don't really wash cats that often since they can clean themselves well. But you…I don't know when you'll turn back. Just in case, I'm going to give you a bath so that your hygiene doesn't end up compromised. Now!”

She scooped him up and carried him into the bathroom, Turkey yowling the whole way there.

I hate this…

Turkey was sitting in a small plastic tub of water as Uzbekistan cleaned him up with pet shampoo she had secretly bought at the store earlier.

“Let's get your little paws…” She hummed to herself, gently scrubbing and kneading them. 

Turkey felt conflicted about being treated like a baby(even if he was being taken care of by a pretty lady), taking his inner turmoil out on the water as he swiped his paws back and forth against the shower head.

“Ahah!! Stop! You're getting water all over me! Sadik, please! Ah!” She squeaked and laughed, attempting to shield the oncoming water with an arm.

Sadik looked at Nargiza, whose face had burst into red from laughter, the colors collecting most at her cheeks. Her other arm was clutching her stomach out of pain.

“Haha! Look at-snrk-look at you! It's like you stuck a fork into an outlet or something!”

Turkey bat the water against her with more force.

He had seen her appearances on TV, and her laugh was elegant and ladylike. A hand covering her mouth as she laughed, with the “ohoho” kind of laugh you'd see young ladies do in period dramas.

But after looking at her again as the water sprayed on her, as she laughed so hard she was beginning to snort and tears were coming out of her eyes, her mascara ruined, his heart blossomed with a certain adoration. 

He was looking at her real laugh, not the suppressed one.

After a short moment of more laughter, she managed to whip out her phone from her back pocket in time to take pictures of Turkey's wet sponge form.

No doubt she'll send this to the group chat…

“W-wait, let me just…” she manipulated his fur into little spikes, and with shaky hands, took more photos.

Uzbekistan snapped to her senses, trying to calm herself down. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed a towel and began to dry him off. 

“Ah…I-I couldn't help myself. If it makes you feel better…you look adorable….in an ugly way…?”

Turkey meowed with a hint of irritation, hoping the point gets through. It's all he could answer, since he wouldn't be able to magically speak to her and tell her how it was completely fine because of how adorable and pretty she looked as she laughed her ass off.

She looked at him and his slight frown. “I'm sorry, Turkey. I should make it up to you. How about some sardines as a treat? Lithuania brought me some all the way from Vilnius.” 

He meowed, as if he was considering the offer.

“And…and you get to sleep with me tonight.” 

At that, he stood up on his hind legs and raised his front paws, now very satisfied with the offer.

It took everything in Uzbekistan to not squeal as she gave him upsies, pulling him to her chest and carrying him to her room, where the blow dryer was…

…To which she laughed once again as Turkey's fur puffed up under the blast of the dryer.

However, she cuddled him in her sleep, and he couldn't be upset about that.

As she snored away, Sadik in her arms, Nargiza's phone was blowing up with the other Turkics replying to the photos she had taken of him.

Turkmenistan: ahaha! he seems to be doing well under your care! sending him my love ❤️

🇰🇿kazakhstan🇰🇿: oh my gosh…sister please don't be so cruel think about his feelings 😭

skibidisigmaohio123: we got unc getting a cat bath before gta 6 😂😂😩🗣️

kyrgyzstan: society is healing

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[copperbadge]

NaClYoHo Day 11

I have to admit, yesterday I was really disappointed at how long it took me to do almost nothing. 

One of the reasons I deliberately limit the amount of time spent cleaning to the length of a podcast is that unlike writing, cleaning doesn’t have a narrative arc, a final chapter, or a word count. It’s good to set boundaries for NaNo, but it’s really imperative to set boundaries for something that otherwise has literally no end. There’s always something else to clean. 

But it felt like I’d spent an hour failing. All I did was buy a box and move some stuff from one box to another. Even as I told myself that it was okay, I was unhappy with myself. I felt like I wouldn’t be any happier with myself today, either. It’s one reason I bang on about how trying is the important thing, because I don’t love that feeling and I don’t want others to experience it. It was, genuinely, an overreaction, and I knew that, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. 

Work yesterday was also super intensive, but also some insane good stuff happened, including me possibly getting tapped to build an entire new outreach program, so it was just a lot more feelings than I appreciate having at once.

Fortunately, I had a really good day today overall. I put on the latest episode of Bad Blood: The Final Chapter. To the tune of Elizabeth Holmes threatening to sue her employees, I got the rest of the hall closet shelving organized (I genuinely didn’t realize what a catch-all I’d made of those shelves), moved a bunch of stuff to the foyer because it needs to be mailed, thrown out, or put into storage, and cleaned out a large-ish portion of the closet’s floor space, so that it no longer looks like a hotel maid’s cart got lost in an Eddie Bauer. I also did the dishes, something I’d been putting off until the sink was full because I still have no hot water, but soaking in cold and washing in hot from the stove worked really well. 

One of the things I managed last night, too, was to get Clark the Plastic Cat Figurine put away with the Halloween stuff and unpack the fabric cornucopia I made. I have seasonal decor, you guys. I have the best seasonal decor, because it’s decorative gourd season, motherfuckers!

[Description: A photograph of my coffee table with sofa in the background; Dearborn the tortie is standing on the table, looking dubious about my seasonal decor: a cornucopia stuffed with fabric gourds, leaves, and corn. She misses Clark, I can tell.]

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dont think this has been requested yet so headcannons for the diasomnia members on a picnic date with mc? i can imagine lilia spying on his adoptive sons in the distance as either moral support or just to secretly take pics for their family album

Curiouser and  Curiouser...

Malleus, being a prince, has never really gone through the motions of making his own meals before, so you’ve been tasked with the bulk of picnic preparations. He did offer to help cook using his dragonic flames, but you had to quickly shut the idea down to avoid a fire hazard (besides, most picnic foods can be served cold or at room temperature)!

Everything about Malleus is refined and regal, from the way he gracefully kneels upon the picnic blanket to the way he delicately brings food to his mouth and pats away the excess with a napkin. You really feel like you’re dining with a king, so you try to copy his elegance too--only for Malleus to reassure you that you can be at ease around him.

He has a fondness and an appreciation for nature. Malleus likes to drink in his surroundings, look within himself, and reflect as he partakes in his meal. He encourages you to do the same, too! 

Malleus tries (and I do mean tries) to take one a “selfie” with you to remember the occasion (and to later show to his Diasomnia family), but he somehow managed to set up the camera timer to go off at the worst time. Because of that, he now has a picture of you with fruit salad chipmunked in your cheeks (while a panicked Malleus clamors to shut the timer off).

When the sun has lowered in the sky, his firefly-like magic will lead the way home. The two of you stroll in a meaningful silence, huddled close in the darkness. Malleus thanks you for the fun picnic and wishes you sweet dreams with a kiss on the forehead.

You had to beg (BEG) Lilia to not contribute to making and packing dishes for your picnic date. It had taken a TON of convincing to get him to agree, but ultimately he caved because you said you wanted to “treat him” this time (thank the Great Seven, you just managed to narrowly escape being poisoned by his heinous cooking for the umpteenth time).

You find the perfect picnic location in the shade of a tree. The moment you turn to put out your blanket, Lilia vanishes and reappears hanging upside down from a tree branch!

You feed him his share of food upside down, and Lilia swings back and forth to dust off excess crumbs and bits of food from himself. it’s such an odd sight, but it makes you giggle anyway.

He has some of the most interesting stories you’ve ever heard! One moment, Lilia will be telling you about an old tryst that occurred on the very hill you’re having this picnic on, and the next, he’ll be telling you some embarrassing tale about how baby Silver threw up in his lap from eating a bad applesauce!

The night settles in, and Lilia guides you home in the dark--well, to be more precise, his batty friends guide you home. A small cloud of bats trail ahead of you on a moonlit path, ensuring that you never stray. He sends you off to sleep with a kiss on the lips (claiming it is to “clean up stray crumbs).

Silver is forever grateful that you gave him an excuse to avoid his dad’s terrible cooking, if only for a day. He joins you in the kitchen to lend his aid, although the extent of his assistance is chopping up fruits and veggies. Silver’s very skilled with both the sword and a knife!

As you’re setting up your romantic little picnic with your boyfriend, a small congregation of wild animals collects at his feet. You make a passing joke about having “a bunch of unexpected guests”, and ultimately you two decide to let them stay. You take turns feeding the woodland critters (only the foods that are safe for them to eat, of course)! At some point, the animals scamper off and return with flowers as tokens of thanks! Silver tucks one of the flowers behind your ear and mutters that he thinks it looks good on you.

After you’ve both had your fill, you lean against one another and watch the animals frolic around in a flowery field. It’s cute, almost picturesque... like something out of a fairy tale. Before long, the food in your stomachs and the mild weather lulls you both asleep.

You wake up before Silver does during and catch a glimpse of his sleepy face. You gentle rouse him awake with a peck on the cheek, and together, the two of you pack up the remains of your outing. Hand in hand, you stroll back home against the sunset.

As soon as Silver gets home, Lilia bombards him with questions on how the date went, demanding to know if Silver took any cute photographs--and if he did, Lilia wants to see them! Silver practically has to fend his old man off before properly retiring for the night--a small smile on his face from the memories of the picnic.

Leave picnic preparations to Sebek! He loving spends a day (and a night) whipping up all sorts of delicious and nutritious dishes to share with his beloved! Why, he even spends several hours determining how to best optimize the space in his picnic basket (so he can store as many foods as possible) and what picnic cloth would be most appropriate for this occasion!

Sebek maintains a somewhat formal tone and even shows up in semi-casual business attire for your date. He greets you with a bow and presents you his picnic set up with a flourish, treating the ordeal like a servant showing off a feast to a royal.

He proudly announces each item he made and asks for your thoughts and feedback once you’ve sampled it. You can visibly see his eyes light up whenever you compliment him or his cooking. Like a puppy, Sebek is very eager to please!

If you make a bit of a mess while eating, Sebek leaps at the opportunity to lend a helping hand! He has several moistened towelettes ready in case you need them--and if those are not sufficient, he also prepared these handkerchiefs!

Sebek clutches onto your hand (and the picnic basket) very tightly on the walk home (he nearly snaps the handle on the basket). He wants to tell you that he had a fun time, but all that comes out instead is stilted laughter (which you silence with a kiss). Sebek practically melts when he’s home alone and shouts into his pillow out of sheer happiness.

[cheri-translates]

Gavin’s Official Art Book (Eng Translation)

Credits to @minjee98​ for sending me photos of Gavin’s official art book and requesting this translation!

This post contains details on Gavin’s outfits, items, backgrounds, and interviews with his CN voice actor, the Copywriting Team, Art Team, and Production team.

More: Kiro l Lucien l Black Swan l STF l NPCs l Loveland City

💙 GAVIN’S OUTFITS 💙

[ Leather Jacket ]

Like a gust of wind blowing from a time of youth, coursing through very long years, Gavin appeared before you. An unruly and intractable smile, a relaxed tone, and the corner of his shirt riding up with the wind at the front seat of the motorcycle...

Back then, you wouldn’t have thought that he would be holding onto your hand like this, accompanying you through countless sceneries.

[Note] Something cute is that the word “sceneries” in Chinese is 风景 (“feng jing”), which directly translates to “wind view”

[ Uniform - Jacket Version ]

If it weren’t for Gavin bringing you to the Special Task Force and telling you about the Black Swan organisation, you would have continued living in ignorance.

Shouldn’t you be glad that he was willing to tell you everything? It’s only because of this that you knew you had been protected all along, and could finally stand by his side. 

[ Gavin’s Shirt  ]

If a rainbow is a delight after a rainfall, and two rainbows are a delight of a coincidental destiny, the three rainbows that you and Gavin saw must definitely be a unique miracle.

As long as you’re with him, the two of you can definitely create even more miracles belonging only to the both of you.

[ Shirt and Pants ]

The summer wind, his mildly bashful smile, the white shirt with its slightly rolled up sleeves, and the side profile with the blue coloured roof reflected in his pupils.

There’s no need to specially reminisce that summer day spent coursing through the river of love with Gavin. It’s definitely shimmering brightly in your memories all along, isn’t it?

[ Swimming Attire]

Riding the waves on a surfboard, playing the bass underneath the lights, using a light cough to cover his shyness... These are the most beautiful memories of that year’s summer.

Back then, when you had looked into Gavin’s eyes, did you suddenly feel that your entire life would pass like this?

[ Camo Jacket ] 

On the day of releasing Pearly, the sunlight was warm and bright. A slight wind was blowing up strands of stray hair. Gavin held onto you, the two of you embracing the sunlight and wind.

Do you still remember? Him promising you the rest of his life back then, the bright amber of his eyes, and the answer you had given.

You said that you’d never let go of his hand.

[ Silver Grey Suit ]

You never would have thought the so-called “Meeting the Parents” would be such a nerve-racking thing.

It’s a good thing Gavin donned a well-fitting suit and appeared in time, protecting you from all sorts of tricky questions posed by your relatives. Or else you’d have been disorientated from the questions early on.

[ Swordsman Outfit ]

Which incident left the deepest impression on you during that year’s Qixi Festival? Was it Gavin’s swordsman appearance, his tender gaze under the moonlight, or was it... the sense of suffocation when you found out that his wire was broken?

If prayers truly worked, you would have been willing to make a prayer to the gods and spirits: Please don’t let him be put in danger again.

[ Wedding Attire ]

Although the wedding was just a filming activity, have you ever secretly anticipated it?

That path of fresh flowers the two of you walked along together, those bright and resplendent moments, and that person who had held onto you as you walked forward...

Being with him like this has commenced the true start of your lives. 

[ Black Jacket ]

The first time you spent Valentine’s Day with Gavin, the first time you received an exorbitant gift from him, the first time the two of you drank from the same beverage...

On that day, you experienced so many memorable firsts. And to him, these memories are definitely just as precious.

[ Army Attire ]

The pitch-black uniform and gloves, medals flashing with a cold light, and ice-cold handcuffs... You’ve probably never seen such a Gavin.

But even if he doesn’t recognise you at all, he will continue stopping you from getting involved in danger, and will keep your lost bracelet properly.

No matter what, he has always been a tender person.

[ School Attire ]

He’s already hurt but still has a look of happiness and wants to play basketball - are all boys like that?

Can’t you easily imagine how a young Gavin was definitely the type to lead a bunch of small boys at the front with the broadest smile on his face as they ran towards the basketball court!

-

💙 GAVIN’S ITEMS 💙

Communication device - I carry it on me. It’s indispensable.

Gloves - An accompaniment when on missions. When I’m with you, I'll take them off.

Photograph together - Every moment related to us and worthy of remembering have been properly stored.

Photoshoot pictures - Because it has to do with you, I [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Universe cake - Only you can fulfil my wish.

Astral stone - That was the last time [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Cute hair tie - I’ll only be like this in front of you.

Touchscreen phone -  Don’t bother about the rumours from school. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell them all to you.

Shampoo - Next time, I’ll help wash your hair again.

Police badge - Memories of you in high school surface in his mind... it was truly a counter of a rebellious youth.

Bullets

Soft pillow

Ginkgo leaves

Letter

Phone keychain

Gavin’s house key

Lavender eye mask

Ginger tea

-

💙 BACKGROUNDS 💙

[ Gavin’s Room ]

Ever since the two of you reunited, life has gradually entered this minimalist-styled room. Without realising it, photographs of the two of you have appeared on the neat and tidy work desk. And the gloves you gave to him have been placed in the most eye-catching spot in the closet.

[ Gavin’s Kitchen ]

The kitchen, which didn’t have a full collection of ingredients, was gradually imbued with the smell of soot. The two of you have made several failed dishes together, but each time, he’ll smile and finish everything. The next time, will the both of you be able to overcome the curse of “dark cuisine” together?

[ Special Task Force Office ]

Here, you found out about the secrets of the Special Task Force, and also found out that the righteousness he has been steadfast in is hard-won. After that, he may never step into this place again. But you definitely trust in the conviction of his words.

[ Castle Steps ]

When he held onto you, walking up that serene spiral staircase, your heart was beating even faster than usual, wasn’t it? Did it stem purely from an anticipation of an unknown scenery, or was it from the unending stream of warmth from his palm?

-

💙 INTERVIEWS 💙

[ Interview with Ah Jie, the voice actor for Gavin ]

“I hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically.”

Q1: Teacher Ah Jie, having interacted with Gavin for such a long time, do you have any new insights regarding him?

Ah Jie: Mm, I do, a little. The most obvious thing would be how he has recently returned to his original self. Actually, things related to his mother, and the attitude his father adopts when interacting with him, have to a large extent changed his personality and the way he handles things. I still hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically. Love can make one more cheerful and carefree, and it’s pretty good.

-

Q2: Are there any characteristics of Gavin you appreciate a lot?

Ah Jie: I find one thing good about Gavin - the way he strongly perseveres in what he has decided upon. No matter whether it’s in terms of righteousness, his convictions, or feelings - once he decides on it, he’ll move forward without hesitation.

-

Q3: What do you think of Gavin’s Evol?

Ah Jie: I initially wanted to possess it, but... it’s not very useful considering Beijing’s weather. If his Evol was sufficiently powerful, could it blow away the smog? I’ll find a chance to ask him some other day.

-

Q4: Is there anything you’ve always wanted to tell Gavin, but haven’t?

Ah Jie: Even though he isn’t the type who knows how to hold a conversation with girls, he has changed for the better recently, and it’s a very large improvement. However, there’s no need to specially change. I think girls like how he is right now.

-

Q5: Has Teacher Ah Jie recently chanced upon a restaurant which you want to bring Gavin to?

Ah Jie: I recently discovered a very delicious and very spicy place. Next time, I’ll arrange to have supper with him there, haha.

-

[ Interview with the Copywriting Team ]

“He should be free and unfettered.”

Q1: The storyline of the game has several science fiction elements. What made you consider including science fiction elements in a game targeted at females?

Actually, we felt that romance is often underestimated. Love isn’t simply effete language without substance, or honeyed words. Love can give us courage, and bring us to a whole new world, opening new journeys, finding your unlimited self. A romance story is naturally appropriate to be melded with any other motifs. In love, we can explore various issues: personal growth, contradictions in society, the truth of civilisation, the rise and fall of history...  The story we wish to convey to the players is one of “the cruel competition between love and power”. This isn’t just a complex story with science fiction elements. Actually, it’s also very related to the lives of every person.

-

Q2: As an Evol agent, does Gavin work 365 without rest?

No, but he has to be prepared to accept sudden missions.

-

Q3: Why couldn’t Gavin keep Greenie alive?

He watered it too much.

-

Q4: If he uses his Evol, what’s the highest point Gavin can reach through flight?

As long as he wants to, he can fly as high as he wants.

-

Q5: Does Gavin really like eating noodles?

It’s not to the extent of "really liking” it. it’s just that he finds it convenient.

-

Q6: When deciding on Gavin’s Evol, were there any special considerations?

We felt that he should be free and unfettered, just like... a gust of free and easy wind.

-

Q7: In the process of interacting, does Gavin have any difficult-to-spot “moe points”?

His slightly clumsy way of expressing his care and consideration. For instance, asking “Were you happy to ride it once more” after taking the Ferris wheel.

-

Q8: In the 2018 Qixi Festival event, Gavin’s ancient garb left a deep impression on people. Why did you design Gavin this way?

A swordsman who comes and goes without a trace. A swordsman who can rush to the skies even after falling off a cliff.

-

Q9: Is Gavin a dog or a cat person?

Dog.

-

Q10: What do you think is Gavin’s most classic line? How did you think of it?

“As long as you’re in the wind, I can sense you.”

It just came out very naturally in the plot - that Gavin would say something like that.

-

Q11: In relation to Gavin, are there any scenes that you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t fulfilled yet?

More scenes imbued with the feeling of a youthful romance. For instance, kissing at the rooftop staircase. I hope it can be arranged soon.

-

[ Interview with the Art Team ]

“Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!”

Q1: In relation to the various scenes in Loveland City, are there are any real life references?

The answer to this question has already been discovered by some meticulous players. We have indeed made references to a few real sceneries, such as the The Bund.

We want to give players the sense that the romance is happening right next to them, which is why we’ve brought our city’s scenery into the game, so everyone can feel a sense of familiarity and realism.

-

Q2: Art Sisters, what you think of the “Papergames Art Style” as coined by players? What is the biggest difference between the art style in Mr Love Queen’s Choice and other games by Papergames?

Actually, we don’t really understand the meaning of “Papergames Art Style”, and we don’t know what it means specifically. It probably refers to how the tone and atmosphere are more clear and romantic? Even our own department finds that the art styles from different games are very different. In making a comparison, Mr Love Queen’s Choice is much “harder” (laughs). After all, our main characters are four adult men. Right now, the style is basically “hard but not coarse” - there are parts which require meticulousness and delicateness, yet can’t be too soft.

-

Q3: Have you ever considered changing Gavin’s hairstyle, for instance giving him a crew cut?

Based on his personality, he might have thought about it. After all, a crew cut is very convenient. But come to think of it, does everyone really want to see him with a crew cut?

-

Q4: Where does Gavin typically buy his clothes? Online or in the shopping mall?

When he thinks it’s about time to buy clothes, he’ll find time to go to the mall. Occasionally, he buys them online.

-

Q5: How many different scars does Gavin have on his body?

There are some especially obvious scars on his collarbone and back. There are many other non-obvious ones in other places.

-

Q6: Why is there such a big difference between Gavin’s initial design and the final design? Initially, why did you give him that somewhat “smart” hairstyle?

Actually, we tried out many different types of hairstyles in the beginning. Then, we selected the one which was most suitable, and then refined it. The “smart” hairstyle was just one of many.

-

Q7: How many different outfits does Gavin have currently?

It’s difficult to say. After all, he does keep buying new clothes. A guy’s closet is the same as a woman’s - forever missing one shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a watch...

-

Q8: Flowers appear frequently in the game. Could I ask the Art Team which flower best suits Gavin?

White lilac.

-

Q9: When it comes to Gavin’s home decor, what do the Art Sisters find the most special?

What’s special lies in “the warmth only you know about”.

Although the monochrome colours appear cold and cool, the details reveal the dribs and drabs of your lives: Outside the windows, you can see ginkgo trees which a harbour special meaning to the two of you. Atop the shelf in front of the window sits the strong “Greenie No. N+1″. Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!

-

Q10: What’s most difficult to grasp about Gavin?

The ahoge on Gavin’s head should point in the opposite direction of the wind.

-

[ Interview with the Production Team ]

“He gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”

Q1: Why did you produce a game like “Love and Producer”?

Producers: Since 2015, our company has already started producing this game. As a mobile game with romance at its core, it’s something not many companies have tried before. The company had a lot of discussions on the possibility of it. In the end, we decided to do it, and the reason for making constant iterations, updates, and persevering after three years is especially simple. No matter what age you are, no matter whether you’ve dated before, no matter whether you're married and have your own family, we believe that in every woman’s heart, there remains an anticipation for romance and heart-stirring experiences. Which is why we believe “Love and Producer” has a reason for its existence. This belief has always guided our production and operation process, and we hope we can continuously bring even more beautiful romance experiences to everyone in the future.

-

Q2: Where did the name of the game “Love and Producer” come from?

Producers: I don’t know if anyone remembers that in the very beginning, our tagline on the official website has always been “Love and dreams need to meet their match.” Why is this game called “Love and Producer”? That’s because the link between you and him not only encompasses the narrow scope of love, but also permeates into to your life journey together.

-

Q3: Are there any deeply hidden “Easter eggs”? Could you disclose them to us?

Producers: They aren’t really that hidden, but there are indeed some “Easter eggs” which should have already been discovered by some players. For instance, you can see a certain poster during City Strolls. In “Go See Him”, the coupling of certain outfits and sceneries could bring out a few hidden lines. We welcome everyone to give it a try.

-

Q4: If you were to catch criminals together with Gavin, how could you help him?

Producers: After much thought, we might only be bait...

-

Q5: What do the people in the Production team call Gavin?

Producers: Gavin, Old Gav, Lil Gav, Bro Gav.

-

Q6: How do the males in the production team view Gavin?

Producers: An envoy of righteousness, he gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”. But sometimes, he’s like Andy Chan.

-

Q7: If you had Gavin’s Evol, what would you use it for?

Producers: Of course, I'll go for a flight!

-

Q8: If there comes a day when you can be as fearless as Gavin, what would you want to do most?

Producers: Serve... serve the motherland?

-

Q9: Lastly, do you have anything to say to the players?

Producers: This interaction between the Production Team and the players is already sufficient enough to cherish. The world we created has only become perfect because of your participation. Our days alongside Loveland City have already become an important stamp in our lives. This world is still constantly becoming richer and broader. Kindly look forward to it!

[newobsessionweekly]

The pain she left behind

Title: The pain she left behind

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader, Sam x Platonic!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader, Jack x Platonic!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, character death, grieveing, Dean crying, angst, death, a little bit of explicit content,  violence, fluff, spoilers s14

Prompt 1: Loving me is a death sentence.

Prompt 2: We found each other. That’s all that matters.

A/N: This is my enterance for SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge. I don’t usually write and all that, but I wanted to try something new and I don’t know... I tried my best, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag: @supernatural-jackles

Something Dean has told himself and everyone around when they asked, is that he doesn’t need that in his life. He doesn’t need love, he doesn’t need to find a girl; he tried that before and it didn’t work out. But what he needs is to have his mind clear, focused on cleaning America from monsters, he needs to keep his family safe. But he failed, he met you and all his life was turned upside down. And sometimes he regrets the day they met you, because now, you are just too hard to forget.

Laying on the kitchen floor, heavily breathing from the enormous weight that’s pressing on his chest, Dean’s playing with a bottle of beer, switching it annoyingly from one hand to another over and over again, just as you’re switching in his head, from one memory to one another. He locked himself in his room for the past 3 days, binge watching some random horror movies wanting to wash away the need to cry, to scream, and beg God to bring you back to him, but it was pointless, he still cried himself to sleep. So he decided it’s time for something stronger; he needs to be back in tracks as soon as possible and be ready to fight the monster that took you away, there’s no time to grieve.

“Dean!” Sam yelled his name again while descending the stairs to the kitchen, abruptly snapping him from his memories of you.

He refuses to answer, he refuses to talk to anyone and Sam understands it, because he feels the empty space you left in their lives too, but he’s maybe more afraid than Dean to show it. Sam wants to be strong for his brother, he wants to be there for him, especially these days. Only the third time after hearing his name, Dean bothered to look up at his younger brother and allow him to see all the broken pieces of his heart spread all over the place.    

“Sammy, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Dean’s voice is rough and shaky, tears threatening to burst in any moment and Dean’s aware that he’s going to lose it soon, but still hoping that Sam will not be around.    

“Dean, you have to – “

“I don’t have to do anything today.” He raised his index finger and stopped Sam, then he pointed to the fridge: “Now pass me another beer and leave.”

Sam did so and Dean thanked him with just a movement of his head, before turning his attention to the abandoned metallic box full of memories from his lap. A bunch of photos with Sammy, some with his mom and dad, few with his friends that soon became family, and even fewer with you. Dean doesn’t like photos that much, he’s not that kind of guy who’d let himself be photographed everywhere and every time, but now he wishes he was that kind and wishes he’d have done a lot more photos beside you. There are only six instant photos of you, with a red ribbon wrapped around them; six, one for every anniversary and one from the first proper Christmas the Winchesters ever had.

He’d have wanted to be that stupid kind of men and take photos of you everywhere: in your favourite pyjamas, curled up in a chair from the library with a leg under you, so deeply focused in research, trying so hard to fit in with his life; standing in front of a pan in the mornings when Sam would be out of town, only in your beautiful underwear, moving your hips while making breakfast for him; curled up in a soft, warm blanket on a chair, sound asleep far too many hours before Sam and Dean would come home after so many weeks of being away.

“Dean!”  

“Dean!”

You jumped from one of the chairs on the war room at the sound of the bunker’s door loudly opening. You almost caught roots on that place waiting for Dean and Sam to show up. You woke up alone this morning, no sight of any of the brothers or your angelic friend so you waited and waited before panic started to grow inside of you. You prayed to Cas and asked him if something happened, you started to pace around the war room when no answer was coming and then you sat on that chair and wondered what the hell happened with everyone. Bad scenarios running through that beautiful mind of yours and you were preparing for the worst.

But you were never prepared for what entered that door; Sam, Dean and Cas were fighting over heels to carry a giant fir tree, you could bet it is even taller than Sam. Your jaw dropped at the sight of Dean, all covered in snow and sweat beads painting his forehead, trying his best not to drop the lower part of the tree.

“What happened? Are you ok? How hard did Sam hit you in the head?” You tried to hide the fact that you were scared as hell with a sarcastic tone, and thankfully Dean bite it, but Cas not so much, because he was throwing you Cas-type of awkward glances.

Dean always rejected the idea of having a proper and normal holiday celebration so as you skipped Halloween, again, you pleaded and pleaded, every night and every day to celebrate at least Christmas, your favourite holiday. But a week or two ago, you gave up when you saw you were getting not even a negative response to your question.

Library was transformed and instead of two big and cold tables with some uncomfortable chairs around, there was a long table decorated with two beautiful candlesticks and little angels and snowflakes. The dish was prepared by Dean with a little help from you, and all around the bunker were hanged beautiful lights, some Santa figurines and angels. Christmas tree was decorated by you and Dean who got involved in this holiday celebration thing more than you even expected.

Sitting around the Christmas tree, after everybody praised the food, you were smiling proudly to have these special people around you. Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience and Kaia are your second family, and every time Sam and Dean would leave for a serious case, they’d prefer you to stay with the girls. Not because they don’t trust you, just because they’d be more peacefully than knowing you home alone so many days in the bunker. You and Alex became very good friends especially because none of you is hunting. Your boyfriend wants to keep you out of this life as much as possible and is trying to make everything as normal as he can.

Dean ripped you from your thoughts when he wrapped his hand around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. You smiled at him excitedly and then exchanged presents with the girls. Then you gave Jack his present, a blue sweater to match yours, and he sadly looked at you. You panicked a little when you saw his face and your body strained, catching Dean’s attention.

“Why are you sad? You don’t like it?” you asked Jack.

“No,no! I love it!” he immediately said, stopping you from making films inside your head. “But I didn’t know we were buying each other gifts. I thought only Dean was supposed to buy you a present, because he’s your boyfriend.”

“Oh, so Dean bought me a present, huh?” you turned to look at your boyfriend and showed him your most beautiful and mischievous smile. “Sam, you really should tell me with what you hit him in the head because it may use me too in the future.”

Everyone laughed at your joke and Dean could swear he had never seen you so happy in his life. He knows Christmas is your favourite holiday and he and Sam were always preoccupied with hunting and saving the world to even think about these holidays, but you understood and never complained. You anyway got to celebrate it at Jody’s place, so you never said anything to Dean, mostly because it was pointless; you loved Dean so much and you accepted him as he is, you accepted his life and embraced it, though he kept you at a secure distance from his life, especially to protect you, and offered you a life as normal as possible, but it was impossible after a certain point ...

Sam watched Dean from distance as he flipped through the Polaroids, with tears cascading on his cheeks, knotting under his chin and loud sobs shaking his body in pain. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he needs it, he needs to cry, to express his feelings, to get it over his chest, even for a moment.

Jack accompanied Sam and Cas and watched over Dean, but they stopped themselves to intervene when a bottle of beer loudly crashed on the floor and wetted everything around. All three of them startled when the sound reached their ears, but they stood still.

It was odd for Dean to break like that in a place where anyone could enter any moment, but nothing was normal anymore, it wasn’t normal for him to lose like that the love of his life, so he allowed himself to do all sorts of strange things in order to calm down even for a second.

“Deano!” you giggled happily in his ear as your body embraced him from behind, your naked body combined with his, just as clothless as yours. It is barely eight and he would probably curse for the rest of the morning if your plan on waking him up will work. It is your fifth anniversary and after long and deep talks with Sam, you decided it’s time to do a little more today.

After you prepared your special breakfast while Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter giving you small advices here and there, he decided to leave you two alone, teasing you, saying you can be as noisy as you please.  

You leaned over him and pressed your lips on his back, chaotically tracing kissed all over his shoulders and going up to his neck and cheeks and then right back from the beginning. Leaving wet spots all over his body, Dean rolled on his back, making you to fall on top of him, your breasts pressing firmly on his chest.

“Well, that is a very interesting way to wake me up, sweetheart.” Dean yawned and looked at you first only with his right eye, then with his left one, finding it very hard to keep them both open.  

You are a simple couple, but more like an old married couple who just puzzle up one another like you’ve known each other for your whole lives. Dean and you as well are not the kind to celebrate and do big stuff about it, just cooking together a breakfast, finally making time for you in such a long time and mostly spending the day together, talking and fixing the problems that you encountered on the way. You are just communicating, that’s your celebration. And this is all you need. But this morning, Dean felt it’s going be a little different. He can smell the breakfast already cooked and he frowned at the smell of fresh, hot coffee.

He kissed you with love, cupping your cheek and rubbing his finger over it, as he always does when he wants to melt your heart, because he knows your weaknesses so well. You cuddle in a little more before you decided to get out of bed and eat your breakfast, stalling a bit to telling one more time – or ten more times – how much you love each other.

“I wanted to spoil you today.” You told him as you put your underwear on and wrapped the red satin robe, the one Dean loves, around your body.

“You know what –“ Dean begins, chewing loudly his bacon. “I’ve been thinking –“ he stops again, sipping his coffee, giving you appreciative sounds as in he’s enjoying very much the coffee you made.

“Oh, no! Always ends bad when you’re thinking.” You teased him and laughed so hard when he gives you the Winchester bitch face. “Ok, we are serious this morning. I’m listening.”

“I was thinking... maybe we should get married.” He says.

Your heart stops at the sound of his words and you almost choke with coffee, slightly coughing to get lost the lump that formed in your throat. You dreamed of marrying Dean from the first moments when you met him. He’s exactly what you’re looking for in a man, he is smart, funny and you can feel his love for you, though he doesn’t show it that much. You love him terribly much and never crossed your mind that this day would come, despite the fact you wanted it so bad. You understand that his life is dangerous, complicated and he doesn’t have time for this kind of things in the first place. You never thought about changing a thing about him or his life and never said anything, because nothing bothered you in the first place. Dean loves you, Dean treats you so right and protects you that you never needed anything and accepted him with his good and a little less good things without questioning, because it is a part of loving.

You adore him with every inch of your being, and the fact that he thought about marring you shocked you, that for the first time, you couldn’t get the words find your mouth. He looked at you, still chewing his food, but he had more of a worried look.

“Ar-are you sure?” you asked and he grabbed your hand over the table and caressed your soft skin.

“Yes, I am a hundred percent sure.” He frowned a little before he continued: “You?”

“Yes!” you immediately responded, leaving no place for any other thoughts. “Yes, I want to marry you, Dean Winchester.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He chuckled and pressed his lips over yours, and then over your forehead. “I discussed with my mom about it, when she was around... She gave me her ring.”

He excitedly bit his bottom lip and then he told you to wait for him, just rising his index finger and then hurried over your bedroom. You smiled like a fool and your stomach flipped almost painfully just at the thought that he discussed this with his mother, especially knowing how important his mother was.  

He came back too soon and ripped out of your thoughts and he shyly asked for your hand. Dean placed the ring on your ring finger and you kissed him so many times, as he dragged you on his lap.

You planned your wedding to be something simple, just a dinner with some friends at the bunker, but soon enough, it turned out to be a dinner with all of your friends at the bunker. You are wearing a simple white casual dress and Dean is wearing his FBI costume, nothing fancy, because fancy was never the Winchester style.

“I am not good at words, especially not at speeches.” He paused a little and everyone laughed. “But I need to say that I love you to death, Y/n Winchester! And I am so grateful that we found each other, that’s all that matters. “

“I love you to death, Dean Winchester!”

And you indeed loved him to death.

In Dean’s head was repeating over and over again the way your body collapsed into the ground, as the last tears fell onto your cheeks when your eyes shut closed. Dean could imagine only a quarter of the pain you left the world with, but he never understood your enormous love for him, not even in your last moments when you looked at him and told him how much you love him.

As Chuck paced the grass and waited, you stand still as you had the gun He gave to you pointed at Jack. The nephilim is dangerous, he is a monster and must be stopped.

“Y/n!” Sam and Dean shouted as they came running towards you. “Y/n, no!”

“I understand...” Jack said, looking up to you from where he stayed on his knees, Sam and Dean calling your name in the background. “I know what I’ve done.”

“No, no, no, no! Y/n!” your husband came running to you, but he stopped as he heared your voice:

“Stay back, Dean!” you said, looking at Jack.

“And you were right, all along. I am a monster.” Jack said.

“Do something!” Dean told Chuck, but he frowned when He shushed him. “Are you enjoying this?”

You took the safety off as you overheard their conversation and looked at Jack one more time; he was standing in his knees in front of you, with his hands folded on his lap, looking innocently at you. He is just a kid, he’s no monster. You frowned; all of this is just Chuck’s plan. You put the safety back on and lowered the gun, throwing it away on the grass.  

“No,no! Pick it up!” Chuck said and approached the two of you and Jack looked at him with a frowning painted on his face. “Pick it up! This isn’t how the story is suppose to end!”

“The story?” Castiel asked.

“Look at the Gathering Storm, the gun... this is epic!”

“Wait what are you saying?” Dean asked Chuck, moving his sight from you to Him.

“He’s saying that he’s been playing us...” Sam responded and Chuck sighs “...this whole time.”

“Come on – “ Chuck started but he’s been interrupted by Sam:

“Our entire lives... mom, dad, everything. This is all you, because... you wrote it all, right? Because... because, what? Because we’re your favourite show? Because we’re part of your story?”

“Y/n, no offense, but your brother-in-law is stupid and crazy. This kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun.” You looked at the gun but didn’t make any move. “Pick is up. Pull the trigger. And I’ll bring her back. I’ll bring Mary back.”

Everyone’s faces fell contemplatively, and you really thought about it as a possibility. Jack moved his looking to you and tried to understand what were you thinking.

“No!” Dean responded immediately.

“I’m not talking to you, Dean. I know how much you want this for Dean, because you love him so much and you want him to be happy and all crap. So pull the trigger and I’ll bring her back.”

“No.” You said and Chuck frowned.

“My mom was my hero, and I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this, she would not want this for Y/n. She wouldn’t want for her to have her hands stained with innocent blood and live with the thought of killing someone innocent, someone she loves so much, for the rest of her life. And it’s not like you even really care, ‘cause Sam’s right. The Apocalypse, Lucifer and Michael, you knew everything that was going on. So why the games, Chuck? Huh? Why don’t you just snap your fingers and end it?”

”Look...” Chuck started, but he was again stopped by Sam.

“And every other bad thing we’ve been killing, or dying over...” he scoffed. “Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer? So we can do this over and over and over again? Fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me!”

“Y/n, don’t do this – “ Chuck said, but no one let Him finish one sentence.

“No, we’re done talking. ’Cause this... this isn’t just a story... it’s our lives! Leave my wife alone. So God or no God, go to hell!” Dean said, both of the Winchesters having their serious faces put on, while chuck smiled mischievously in the corner of the lips.

“Have it your way!” He said, then snapping his fingers.

Everybody watched as your body collapsed lifelessly into the ground, and Dean shouted your name, but the pain was too deafening. Everyone was shocked, and Sam reacted as adrenaline was pumping in his body. He picked up the gun and drunken in pain, he shot Chuck in order to kill, for you, for his best friend. Unfortunately, he shot God in shoulder, and Sam as well felt a killing pain in his shoulder.

Dean cried his pain out of his body, his soul and he tried to cry you out of his mind too, but it was too hard. He tried to erase that hurtful memory of you, but it just wouldn’t get off, it would play over and over again, just to kill him slowly and slowly every second. He broke down one more time, loudly sobbing and frantically shaking his body.

Sam ran towards him and crashed beside him, Sam as well having tears staining his cheeks at the sight of his big brother broken like this. There were too many bottles of beer drunk and Dean was not feeling alright at all. Sam’s arms moved around Dean’s body and embraced him, trying not to let him broke into pieces.  

“It’s alright, Dean! I’m here. I’m here, Dean!” Sam shushed him and tried to keep him from shaking.

“Everyone around me is getting hurt and they are dying, Sammy. Loving me is a death sentence, Sammy.”

“Dean... listen to me!” Sam cupped his cheeks and moved his head from his shoulder so that he can look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, look at me. I love you and I’m not going anywhere, alright? Y/n loves you from a better place, alright? I bet you’re gonna get into the same heaven someday, alright?” Dean slowly nodded his head and looked at Sam between the eyelashes, finally he stopped crying. “Let’s go get your strength back and we’re going to kill that son of a bitch, alright?” Dean nodded again and let Sam put him to bed, hoping maybe it will hurt less tomorrow.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Ieyasu and Chilli

This is a touch of madness that came from the wonder that is Discord, my 2am brain and a lot of supportive encouragement from a bunch of friendly enablers. 

@umbralaperture​ @tsundere-mitsuhide​ @silver-fox-of-azuchi​ @jennacat84​

I hope you all enjoy it.

Masterlist

---

Ieyasu and Chilli

Imagine if you will a tiny timid little creature. No this is not a height joke aimed at our fluffy contrarian. 

For those of you unaware of what a Dik-dik is they are tiny antelopes (30-40cm in height and 50-70cm in length.) So a baby one is well, smaller. 

Image is not mine it was from a newpaper article and all credit goes to the photographer for capturing such cuteness. *link for article is here

This is also the creature that Mai came into the castle carrying in her arms after somehow liberating it from a merchant.

“What have you got now?” Ieyasu stops in his tracks on his way out of the castle gate as she tries to slip past unnoticed. 

“Oh! Ieyasu. I found this and wanted your advice on how to take care of it.” Mai’s shoulders jumped at being called but she quickly plastered a rather overly happy smile on her face and faked acting like everything was totally normal. 

Yes, nothing to see here people just Mai carrying a rather small animal in her arms like a doll or a child. What do you mean she didn’t have that when she left earlier?

“Put it back.” His voice was firm and commanding. His green eyes flicked briefly to the creature before holding a very stone-cold glare at his girlfriend.

“What?��Her eyes went wide. For some reason, she never thought he would tell her that. I mean this is Ieyasu. Her Ieyasu. The one that has a deer living in his garden at his mansion to prevent Masamune tuning it into venison burgers.  

“Go and put that thing back wherever you found it. You don’t know where it’s been and there is more than enough work around here for both of us without adding caring for a rodent.” 

“He isn’t a rodent! He’s a... deer-like something.” Actually, Mai had no idea as to the true name of the animal cradled in her arms. Sasuke was going to get paid a visit at some point so she could ask him if he knew.

“You don’t even know what it is and you are saying you want to look after it?” Ieyasu scoffed his tone was still cold but he was coming closer to her now so he could judge for himself if this thing was really not a threat.

“Look I found him. The guys at the dock caught him running around and put him in a cage. They were talking about roasting him.” Mai was pleading with her big eyes that seemed to be mirrored in the same way by the little creature in her arms. Great two sets of puppy eyes.

“I’m sure he’d make a very nice snack.” Ieyasu quipped remembering his own first encounter with Wasabi except he now seemed to have switched places with Masa. Not an idea he liked very much at all.

*GASP!* “Don’t listen to the nasty man Chilli you are no more a snack than Wasabi is rations.” Mai acted dramatically covering the ears of the little creature with her fingers. 

She knew. Of course, she did she was his girlfriend and knew all about Wasabi and how he came to care for the deer. Curses.

“Don’t bring up Wasabi... and don’t name the thing you’ll get attached to it.” Ieyasu began trying to solidify how he was putting his foot down only to be brushed past by Mai as she continued into the castle. “Hey, you listening to me?!”

*

Regardless of his ever-constant protests, Ieyasu ends up watching the little creature even more closely than Mai. He can’t believe she brought him back to his manor with her and let him loose in his room.

“It that thing gets into my medicinal herbs you are getting the blame.”He grumbled but made sure to move anything that might be poisonous to the small deer creature out of reach.

“Oh, he’s fine. Look, he isn’t after herbs at all he’s more interested in your scarf.” Mai giggled.

“What!?” Her laughter was welcome but the sight of the small animal tugging on his clothing that had been placed nearby was not. “Oh no, you don’t.”Ieyasu rushed to take back the scarf that was being gently tugged. “Bad little deer thing. My scarf, not yours.” 

He grabbed the fabric and yanked it a little harder than he realised the little animal made a noise as it rolled and then scampered under a chair to hide.

“Aww look what you did now it looks so frighted.” Mai crawled over and scooped up the trembling animal back into her arms. he watched it still at the sound of her heartbeat and then without saying a word he left the room feeling wretched for his own actions.

Later that evening Mai had managed to fall asleep. Chilli was near the brazier curled up like a cat with a small bowl for water and one that had some vegetables from the kitchen nearby.

He put down his book and decided to go to bed himself. blowing out the candle and getting changed he heard something pining. Chilli had moved to the futon and was trying to nudge Mai’s hand. He was only a baby after all so he was probably looking for comfort.

“You are hopeless.” Ieyasu huffed in a half-whisper. Taking his scarf and curling it up at the edge of the futon near Mai for Chilli. “Happy now?”

That night was probably the first time Ieyasu ended up wondering if this is what it was like to be a father. 

*

When Mai is busy around the castle the little creature tries to keep up by very quickly tires out. It is rather like watching a duckling following its mother which is endearing but almost gave Ieyasu a heart attack when someone ran up to the Princess and nearly kicked the little thing, unaware of its existence.

“Have a care!” Ieyasu called out as he swiftly bent down to pick up Chilli before he could be kicked in the head.

“My lord?” The vassel was confused as they genuinely didn’t know what they had done to earn Ieyasu’s ire. 

“Tell me is it part of basic training now that we simply blunder about without taking note of our surroundings or is it that something that is unique to you?” Ieyasu shot the man a pointed glare and turned swiftly walking away from both Mai and the stunned soldier carrying Chilli.

*

When Mai is in the castle now unless she is working on commissions Chilli is with Ieyasu. 

Each has a bed for him in their rooms that are little more than a small round basket and some handmade bedding. 

Mai originally only intended to make one for her room in the castle but after Ieyasu stopped by to bring her something from Nobunaga he noticed it.

“What? You think it’s dumb?” Mai asked noticing Ieyasu was lingering in her room longer than it took to just deliver missives. Realising his eyes were on the pet bed she had fashioned.

“I think it’s very you.” Aware he had been caught staring Ieyasu attempted to make it sound as if he thought her actions were childish. 

“Well, luckily Chilli here seems to like my work.” Mai reached out and stroked the animal that he could have sworn developed a very smug look on its face after receiving her attention. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” 

“Did you want one for your room too?” Mai asked partly as a joke. She could see his ears were a little red and whatever unspoken misunderstanding she had over the pet bed was suddenly gone. 

“Whatever.” Ieyasu left her room and returned to his mansion muttering to himself. He wasn’t going to be jealous of Chilli. Just because he got to be near Mai all the time. No that was ridiculous. 

When Mai returned at night with a replica bed with bedding in different coloured fabric Ieyasu avoided looking at it until she was asleep. He ended up with the softest smile on his face as he stroked the curled up Chilli in the basket. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

*

Wasabi is a big fan of new friends. Unlike Ieyasu, she is much more open to new people and animal friends. That is after she has gotten over the timid part of her nature as a deer.

Chilli is practically the animal equivalent of a heart eyes emoji. As far as he is concerned Wasabi is a Deity and adores her. When she lays down and is much more ‘his level’ he popcorns around in little jumps and hops on, off and over her. Wasabi doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

Their first encounter had Ieyasu more nervous than Mai. Chilli was put down on the ground near Wasabi as she was enjoying some food and there was a moment where Ieyasu looked like he was about ready to jump in and scoop up the tiny addition if Wasabi was in the slightest bit aggressive. 

Think eagle watching a bunny as it hovered over it. Hideyoshi clearly passed some helicopter parenting skills down to the resident contrarian. 

It didn’t happen. What did happen was Wasabi bent down and touched noses with Chilli, both wagged their tails at the other and then in a very welcome to the family gesture Wasabi took a small leaf from the bowl in Mai’s hand and gave it to Chilli. 

“Looks like you were worried for nothing then huh?” Mai laughed happily seeing the two getting along.

“I wasn’t worried.” Ieyasu said visibly relaxing slightly even if he was still observing like a hawk.

“Well, he can come outside and play at the manor now at least.” Mai smiled watching as Chilli investigated some of the flowers and rocks. A whole new world.

“Not without supervision.” Ieyasu stated flatly.

“You don’t think Wasabi will still hurt him?” Mai tilted her head at him.

“No, but it’s going to be a pain if he falls somewhere and gets stuck. You would never let me hear the end of it.”

*

Masamune came to visit the manor on Mai’s day off carrying something in his arms that was apparently a new dish he wanted her opinion on. Ieyasu was reading next to her as she put down her own book and tried the dish.

“It’s wonderful Masa. Maybe a little too sweet though.” Mai’s verdict was as honest as she was which didn’t insult the chef at all. He kept smiling and made a mental note so he could amend his recipe later.

“You’ve been hanging out with this one too long Lass next you’ll be telling me it’s not spicy enough and telling me to put more chilli in my curries.” Masa was as friendly as ever. Ieyasu had given up trying to prevent him from attempting to be near Mai and settled on being the chaperone to their friendship. The scarf around Ieyasu’s neck moved the little head of Chilli popped out from the fabric like a chick in an egg. Masa noticed the movement and his eye went wide.“What on earth?”

“Oh! right I guess you didn’t meet. Masa this is Chilli.” Mai reached out and peeled back some of the scarf that had pooled near Ieyasu revealing more of the little animal. 

“Interesting. Deciding to grow your own herd now are ya? I’ll put in an order now shall I?” Masa reached out towards Chilli who darted back under the scarf and pressed itself as close as possible against Ieyasu.

“Don’t be ridiculous there isn’t enough of him to make any kind of a meal.” Ieyasu slapped Masa’s hand away.

“Yeah wanna bet on that one Lad cos I’m sure I could whip up something that-”

“You upset him and it upsets her. I don’t care what really happens to him but you upset Mai and I’ll relieve you of your other eye.” Ieyasu cut off Masa’s little joke with a warning as he stood up and carried both his book and Chilli away with him.

The laughter and teasing that happened in the castle at Ieyasu’s expense after that lasted for weeks. Every time Chilli appeared from under his scarf or was seen in his arms where he had picked them up because they had become too tired to carry on the teasing restarted. 

As much as it annoyed him Ieyasu wouldn’t give up the little creature now if you paid him. He will say it is because of Mai. He doesn’t want her to be upset and that is true. What he won’t say is that he adores the small deer just as much as she does. 

---

[stephenfries]

Cinco de Mayo: Vibrant flavors make for a zesty celebration

Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos

Recipes from Salsas and Tacos by The Santa Fe Cooking School, photographs by Natalie Dicks, reprinted with permission.

Tacos, chips and salsa, Margaritas, Tequila, and guacamole will be center-stage tomorrow at home parties and at many restaurants providing the backdrop with music, decorations and Mexican-inspired fare. Why? It is the celebration of Cinco de Mayo. The day is a double celebration for me since it also is my birthday.

Many think it is the celebration of Mexico’s independence, which it is not. It is the day in 1862 when the Mexican Army surprisingly defeated the French in the Battle of Puebla. What I find interesting is that Cinco de Mayo is celebrated more in the United States than Mexico, although it is a big celebration in Puebla, where the day is celebrated  with parades and reenactments of the 1862 battle.

Perusing the bookstore shelves, “Salsas and Tacos” by Susan Curtis and the Santa Fe School of Cooking (2019, Gibbs-Smith, $14.99) stood out; a hot little book with big taste to spice up your Cinco de Mayo. It was exciting to find this book because I met Susan many years ago when we were taking a “train-the-trainer” class in teambuilding using culinary arts in New York City. I have since taken a class at her school over a decade ago, and will see her soon in Santa Fe where she is an ambassador for the upcoming International Association of Culinary Professionals annual convention. I know I will be returning with products from her store and some recipes, too.

New Mexican cuisine is a melting pot of Mexican, Spanish, Native American and America Cowboy cooking techniques and flavors. The book provides bold recipes from the chefs from the Santa Fe School of Cooking. I found the “heat rating” for the salsa recipes and the techniques of roasting and toasting of chiles helpful. From the basic salsa fresca, roasted corn and Anasazi Bean salsa to grapefruit-orange salsa, to Jicama-Watermelon Salsa, and the recipes below for mango salsa and lemon-cucumber salsa, the vibrancy of the colors will enhance your tacos. The author writes, “It wouldn’t be fair to provide you with recipes for such amazing salsas and then leave you without any taco recipes. Hold on to your shoes because these taco fillings will knock your socks off!”

Taco recipes included go beyond a taco filled with ground beef, lettuce, tomato and cheese. If you are planning a gathering on Sunday, an assortment of taco fillings and salsas and homemade tortillas will make your Cinco de Mayo party the hottest around. Adobo Pork Tacos with Grilled Pineapple; Potato, Poblano Chile, and Spinach Tacos with Cream; Steak and Mushroom Tacos with Green Chiles; and these recipes for Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos and Apple Pie Tacos are among the recipes you will find.

Mango Salsa

The headnote says, “This is a wonderful garnish for grilled tuna or salmon, or any fish taco. It can also be used as a base for an excellent fish salad by mixing about 1 pound of grilled tuna or salmon into the salsa.” Rating medium.

2 large ripe mangoes

1 medium hothouse cucumber* cut into quarter-inch dice

2 medium red bell peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded, and cut into quarter-inch dice

1 medium red onion, peeled and cut into quarter-inch dice

1/3 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro

2 to 3 serrano chiles, minced

Fresh lime juice, to taste

Salt, to taste

*Regular cucumbers may be substituted, but peel and remove the seeds.

Peel the mangoes with a small sharp knife. Cut the flesh away from the large flat pit in two pieces then cut it from the narrow edges of the pit. Cut these pieces into quarter-inch dice.

In a medium bowl, combine the diced mango, cucumber, bell peppers, red onion, cilantro, chiles, lime juice, and salt. Toss gently but thoroughly.

Let the salsa stand at room temperature for 20 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled. Makes 3 cups.

Lemon Cucumber Salsa

The headnote says, “Serve as an easy way to dress up a simple piece of fish or as a refreshing side salad.” Rating medium.

2 cups lemon cucumber* unpeeled, cubed

Zest and juice of 1 lemon

2 green onions, trimmed and thinly sliced on the diagonal

2 teaspoons crushed red chile (chile caribe)

2 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs (a combination of chives, mint, tarragon, and/ or cilantro is good)

Salt, to taste

Combine all the ingredients and stir. Let stand for 20 minutes, taste, and adjust seasoning. Makes about 2 cups.

*Tip: Lemon cucumbers are named for their shape and color, which resemble lemons. If you cannot find lemon cucumbers, peeled and seeded cucumbers may be substituted.

Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos

The headnote says, “The flavor and the spiciness of chipotle chiles, which are smoked red jalapenos, make a perfect foil for the garlicky shrimp. This dish was meant to be hot, but you can vary the intensity of heat by reducing the quantity of chiles. If you like, the shrimp may also be prepared using an outdoor grill; make the sauce without the shrimp then brush some on the shrimp before grilling. Toss shrimp with the remaining sauce after they are cooked.”

Taco Filling

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

8 cloves garlic, sliced

11/2 pounds medium shrimp (26-30 per pound), peeled and deveined

11/2 teaspoons coarse salt

1/8 to 1/4 cup pureed chipotle chiles in adobo

1/2 cup roasted tomato puree or canned tomato sauce

2 tablespoons cold water

Juice of 1/2 orange

Juice of 1 lime

1/2 cup chopped cilantro (about ½ large bunch)

Corn tortillas (store bought or use recipe on pg. 107 in the book which is found at https://bit.ly/2Prv3nI)

Preheat a heavy skillet or saute pan to medium hot (325 degrees); add olive oil and butter and continue heating until oil begins to smoke (400 degrees). Immediately add garlic, shrimp, and salt, stirring or tossing vigorously. Oil tends to splatter at this temperature, so be careful. When shrimp begin to turn opaque, stir in the chipotle chile puree and saute about 15 seconds to completely coat shrimp. Add tomato puree, water, and orange and lime juices. Reduce heat slightly and bring to a boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and stir in cilantro. Serve in corn tortillas, 2 or 3 shrimp per taco.

Serving suggestion: Garnish tacos with shredded romaine lettuce, Salsa Verde (recipe on page 24 in book), sliced avocados, radishes, lime wedges, and a dollop of sour cream. Serve with white rice and black beans.

Makes 20 to 25 tacos

Apple Pie Tacos

The headnote says, “Dessert tacos aren’t a traditional Mexican dish; however, we wanted to include one of our favorite creations. We decided on the simple approach in keeping with the easygoing and casual nature of tacos. Easy to prepare, these look like tacos and have the universally satisfying flavor of Mom’s apple pie.”

Taco Filling

4 tart apples, peeled, cored, and cut in quarter-inch-thick slices

Dash of salt

1/4cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons butter

2 teaspoons ground Mexican canela or cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/2 cup apple juice

1/8 cup powdered sugar

1 teaspoon ground Mexican canela or cinnamon

Preheat a heavy skillet or saucepan to medium (300 to 325 degrees). Toss sliced apples with salt and 2 tablespoons of sugar then with flour and cornstarch. Place butter in pan; when it sizzles, add apple slices. Cook 3-4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until flour mixture combines with butter. Add canela and allspice then apple juice and remaining sugar. Bring to a slow boil and cook for 5 minutes, until apple slices are soft and sauce is smooth and thick. Allow to cool for a few minutes before serving.

Tacos

This recipe is from pg. 108 from the book:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

11/2 teaspoons baking powder

3 tablespoons vegetable shortening

3/4 cup hot water (145 degrees or more)

Combine dry ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Cut in the shortening until mix is the consistency of course cornmeal. Add water and mix to form a soft but not too sticky dough. Knead about 15 times to form a smooth dough. Form into 8 to 10 equal-size balls. Cover and let stand for 20-30 minutes. Flatten dough, rolling away from you with a small wooden dowel or rolling pin, turning dough 1/8 turn after each roll. Tortillas should be about 5 inches in diameter and of a uniform thickness. Cook tortillas on a preheated 350-degree comal, griddle or skillet for 15-20 seconds on the first side; flip over, and cook 20 seconds more while pressing down with a spatula. Keep warm in a cloth towel until ready to serve.

To serve: Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the filling on each tortilla and fold in half. Melt some of the butter on a preheated comal, nonstick skillet, or griddle; place a filled tortilla in the butter. Cook about 11/2 minutes per side, until golden brown. Repeat for remaining tacos. Caution: If the temperature is too high, the tortillas will brown before filling is heated through. Dust tacos with powdered sugar and canela or cinnamon.

Note: These may be prepared ahead of time and reheated in a 325-degree oven.

Makes 8 tacos

Serving suggestion: Accompany tacos with vanilla or cinnamon ice cream, fruit sorbet, or whipped cream.

[sfarticles]

Cinco de Mayo: Vibrant flavors make for a zesty celebration

Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos

Recipes from Salsas and Tacos by The Santa Fe Cooking School, photographs by Natalie Dicks, reprinted with permission.

Tacos, chips and salsa, Margaritas, Tequila, and guacamole will be center-stage tomorrow at home parties and at many restaurants providing the backdrop with music, decorations and Mexican-inspired fare. Why? It is the celebration of Cinco de Mayo. The day is a double celebration for me since it also is my birthday.

Many think it is the celebration of Mexico’s independence, which it is not. It is the day in 1862 when the Mexican Army surprisingly defeated the French in the Battle of Puebla. What I find interesting is that Cinco de Mayo is celebrated more in the United States than Mexico, although it is a big celebration in Puebla, where the day is celebrated  with parades and reenactments of the 1862 battle.

Perusing the bookstore shelves, “Salsas and Tacos” by Susan Curtis and the Santa Fe School of Cooking (2019, Gibbs-Smith, $14.99) stood out; a hot little book with big taste to spice up your Cinco de Mayo. It was exciting to find this book because I met Susan many years ago when we were taking a “train-the-trainer” class in teambuilding using culinary arts in New York City. I have since taken a class at her school over a decade ago, and will see her soon in Santa Fe where she is an ambassador for the upcoming International Association of Culinary Professionals annual convention. I know I will be returning with products from her store and some recipes, too.

New Mexican cuisine is a melting pot of Mexican, Spanish, Native American and America Cowboy cooking techniques and flavors. The book provides bold recipes from the chefs from the Santa Fe School of Cooking. I found the “heat rating” for the salsa recipes and the techniques of roasting and toasting of chiles helpful. From the basic salsa fresca, roasted corn and Anasazi Bean salsa to grapefruit-orange salsa, to Jicama-Watermelon Salsa, and the recipes below for mango salsa and lemon-cucumber salsa, the vibrancy of the colors will enhance your tacos. The author writes, “It wouldn’t be fair to provide you with recipes for such amazing salsas and then leave you without any taco recipes. Hold on to your shoes because these taco fillings will knock your socks off!”

Taco recipes included go beyond a taco filled with ground beef, lettuce, tomato and cheese. If you are planning a gathering on Sunday, an assortment of taco fillings and salsas and homemade tortillas will make your Cinco de Mayo party the hottest around. Adobo Pork Tacos with Grilled Pineapple; Potato, Poblano Chile, and Spinach Tacos with Cream; Steak and Mushroom Tacos with Green Chiles; and these recipes for Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos and Apple Pie Tacos are among the recipes you will find.

Mango Salsa

The headnote says, “This is a wonderful garnish for grilled tuna or salmon, or any fish taco. It can also be used as a base for an excellent fish salad by mixing about 1 pound of grilled tuna or salmon into the salsa.” Rating medium.

2 large ripe mangoes

1 medium hothouse cucumber* cut into quarter-inch dice

2 medium red bell peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded, and cut into quarter-inch dice

1 medium red onion, peeled and cut into quarter-inch dice

1/3 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro

2 to 3 serrano chiles, minced

Fresh lime juice, to taste

Salt, to taste

*Regular cucumbers may be substituted, but peel and remove the seeds.

Peel the mangoes with a small sharp knife. Cut the flesh away from the large flat pit in two pieces then cut it from the narrow edges of the pit. Cut these pieces into quarter-inch dice.

In a medium bowl, combine the diced mango, cucumber, bell peppers, red onion, cilantro, chiles, lime juice, and salt. Toss gently but thoroughly.

Let the salsa stand at room temperature for 20 minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled. Makes 3 cups.

Lemon Cucumber Salsa

The headnote says, “Serve as an easy way to dress up a simple piece of fish or as a refreshing side salad.” Rating medium.

2 cups lemon cucumber* unpeeled, cubed

Zest and juice of 1 lemon

2 green onions, trimmed and thinly sliced on the diagonal

2 teaspoons crushed red chile (chile caribe)

2 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs (a combination of chives, mint, tarragon, and/ or cilantro is good)

Salt, to taste

Combine all the ingredients and stir. Let stand for 20 minutes, taste, and adjust seasoning. Makes about 2 cups.

*Tip: Lemon cucumbers are named for their shape and color, which resemble lemons. If you cannot find lemon cucumbers, peeled and seeded cucumbers may be substituted.

Hot and Smoky Shrimp Tacos

The headnote says, “The flavor and the spiciness of chipotle chiles, which are smoked red jalapenos, make a perfect foil for the garlicky shrimp. This dish was meant to be hot, but you can vary the intensity of heat by reducing the quantity of chiles. If you like, the shrimp may also be prepared using an outdoor grill; make the sauce without the shrimp then brush some on the shrimp before grilling. Toss shrimp with the remaining sauce after they are cooked.”

Taco Filling

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

8 cloves garlic, sliced

11/2 pounds medium shrimp (26-30 per pound), peeled and deveined

11/2 teaspoons coarse salt

1/8 to 1/4 cup pureed chipotle chiles in adobo

1/2 cup roasted tomato puree or canned tomato sauce

2 tablespoons cold water

Juice of 1/2 orange

Juice of 1 lime

1/2 cup chopped cilantro (about ½ large bunch)

Corn tortillas (store bought or use recipe on pg. 107 in the book which is found at https://bit.ly/2Prv3nI)

Preheat a heavy skillet or saute pan to medium hot (325 degrees); add olive oil and butter and continue heating until oil begins to smoke (400 degrees). Immediately add garlic, shrimp, and salt, stirring or tossing vigorously. Oil tends to splatter at this temperature, so be careful. When shrimp begin to turn opaque, stir in the chipotle chile puree and saute about 15 seconds to completely coat shrimp. Add tomato puree, water, and orange and lime juices. Reduce heat slightly and bring to a boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and stir in cilantro. Serve in corn tortillas, 2 or 3 shrimp per taco.

Serving suggestion: Garnish tacos with shredded romaine lettuce, Salsa Verde (recipe on page 24 in book), sliced avocados, radishes, lime wedges, and a dollop of sour cream. Serve with white rice and black beans.

Makes 20 to 25 tacos

Apple Pie Tacos

The headnote says, “Dessert tacos aren’t a traditional Mexican dish; however, we wanted to include one of our favorite creations. We decided on the simple approach in keeping with the easygoing and casual nature of tacos. Easy to prepare, these look like tacos and have the universally satisfying flavor of Mom’s apple pie.”

Taco Filling

4 tart apples, peeled, cored, and cut in quarter-inch-thick slices

Dash of salt

1/4cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons butter

2 teaspoons ground Mexican canela or cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/2 cup apple juice

1/8 cup powdered sugar

1 teaspoon ground Mexican canela or cinnamon

Preheat a heavy skillet or saucepan to medium (300 to 325 degrees). Toss sliced apples with salt and 2 tablespoons of sugar then with flour and cornstarch. Place butter in pan; when it sizzles, add apple slices. Cook 3-4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until flour mixture combines with butter. Add canela and allspice then apple juice and remaining sugar. Bring to a slow boil and cook for 5 minutes, until apple slices are soft and sauce is smooth and thick. Allow to cool for a few minutes before serving.

Tacos

This recipe is from pg. 108 from the book:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

11/2 teaspoons baking powder

3 tablespoons vegetable shortening

3/4 cup hot water (145 degrees or more)

Combine dry ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Cut in the shortening until mix is the consistency of course cornmeal. Add water and mix to form a soft but not too sticky dough. Knead about 15 times to form a smooth dough. Form into 8 to 10 equal-size balls. Cover and let stand for 20-30 minutes. Flatten dough, rolling away from you with a small wooden dowel or rolling pin, turning dough 1/8 turn after each roll. Tortillas should be about 5 inches in diameter and of a uniform thickness. Cook tortillas on a preheated 350-degree comal, griddle or skillet for 15-20 seconds on the first side; flip over, and cook 20 seconds more while pressing down with a spatula. Keep warm in a cloth towel until ready to serve.

To serve: Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the filling on each tortilla and fold in half. Melt some of the butter on a preheated comal, nonstick skillet, or griddle; place a filled tortilla in the butter. Cook about 11/2 minutes per side, until golden brown. Repeat for remaining tacos. Caution: If the temperature is too high, the tortillas will brown before filling is heated through. Dust tacos with powdered sugar and canela or cinnamon.

Note: These may be prepared ahead of time and reheated in a 325-degree oven.

Makes 8 tacos

Serving suggestion: Accompany tacos with vanilla or cinnamon ice cream, fruit sorbet, or whipped cream.

[viceprints]

Noodle King

Summary: Vice finds an unexpected clue at a noodle restaurant. 

Genre: Mystery, drama Pairing: OT7 / OT6 Word Count: 1.0k Warnings: Swearing, missing persons. 

After stopping at a thrift store to pick up some average-looking clothes and hearing Kane whine and complain about his bladder feeling like it was going to explode, the group suggested stopping for an early lunch at a local restaurant. The restaurant was recommended to them by the woman running the thrift store, as it was locally famous for their spicy fire noodles.

Once the boys were given a seat at the restaurant, Kane bolted to the mens room. Once he relieved himself he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes. He didn’t realize how tired he was until that moment. Not just physically, but emotionally too. The maknae hadn’t given himself time to think about Seokyu’s disappearance, but now that he was completely alone for the first time in three days, the reality of the situation was starting to hit him.

As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. Why would Seokyu just leave them? Was there something that Kane could have done to make him stay? His throat closed up at the thought of his missing friend, but he swallowed hard. He wasn’t about to have a mental breakdown in this family-owned restaurant. These people didn’t get paid enough to deal with coaxing him out of the restroom. He shook his head and reached for a paper towel, patting his hands dry. Exiting the bathroom, he took a look around.

On the wall opposite to the bathroom was full of photographs of people holding up a large empty noodle bowl. He hadn’t noticed it when he was running past in a crisis, but now that the anxiety of possibly peeing himself was gone, he took a closer look at the pictures.

Most of the contestants had tear-stained faces with orangey-red sauce rimming their lips. The pictures were pretty comical, actually, but there was one face that stood out from the rest.

“No fucking way.” Kane said under his breath. Right in front of him, smiling with closed lips, was Seokyu. The owner of the restaurant had his arm around Seokyu’s shoulders like a proud father would, but Seokyu’s expression made it look like the challenge was easy. Kane took the picture off the wall, dashing back to the dining area.

“Guys! Look who’s on the wall!” Kane said excitedly, dropping the photograph in the middle of the table.

“Seokyu? He was here?” Woodam asked, his eyes wide.

The waitress came back over with their drinks, furrowing her eyebrows at the photograph. “Oh yeah, I remember him. He was in two nights ago. He wanted to try our Hell’s Bells Noodle Challenge.”

“Hell’s Bells? Like AC/DC?” Minho asked as the waitress placed their drinks down on the table.

The waitress chuckled. “You wish. If someone can get through our spicy noodle dish in under 5 minutes, they eat free. A lot of people try, but your friend here was real impressive.” She shared. “Finished in less than two minutes. He didn’t even accept the eat free coupon.”

The boy group exchanged bewildered looks with each other. Seokyu never had a huge appetite, at least not compared to the rest of them. Seokyu didn’t even like spicy food. Why would he try this challenge if he had money on him to afford food? What was he doing in Cheongju when he told Eunjoo he’d be heading to Yuso? “And you said he was here two days ago?” Cyth asked.

The waitress nodded, looking around the table curiously. “Why? Has he been ghosting you guys?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Geonwu said bitterly, taking a sip of his water.

“Ma’am, did he say anything about visiting Yuso while he was here?” Kane asked anxiously. The waitress clicked her tongue, trying to recall the night Seokyu visited the restaurant.

“You know, he had a travel guide that he left behind. I think we chucked it behind the hostess desk if you would like me to grab it?” She offered.

Kane sighed with relief. “Yes please, that would be appreciated.”

The waitress hurried off, leaving the boys alone.

“What if he’s not going to Yuso anymore?” Ji wondered aloud. “If he’s not heading there, we’re fucked. Yuso is our only lead.”

“Let’s wait and see that travel guide. Maybe we’ll get a new lead.” Minho suggested, using the tone he only uses when he wants everyone to calm down, even though he himself is freaking out.

The waitress returned with a notebook full of travel guides poking out from the pages. The boys recognized the notebook immediately. Minho had given the notebook to Seokyu after his first year anniversary with Vice. It was meant for lyric writing or choreography formation, but now it was being doubled as a folder for travel brochures.

Luckily, most of the travel guides still focused on Yuso and there were a few pamphlets on sailing. But something else caught the member’s eyes. On the page were all the brochures were still poking out were a bunch of names that weren’t familiar to Vice.

“Wait, that says Oh Eunjoo.” Kane pointed, recognizing the name of the crazed psychic they met yesterday.

“That’s my name.” The waitress frowned. She had returned with their meals, but her attention was now on the book in front of them. “I’m Lee Seunghee. Sixth name from the bottom. And below that… Kim Taewoo, that’s the owner.” “Why is he keeping a list of names?” Woodie asked aloud. No one had an answer.

“Well… Enjoy you meals!” Seunghee gave a weak smile. She dashed away, clearly put off by the fact that a random man had written her name down in a book.

“Seokyu… what the fuck is going on inside that head.” Ji shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips.

Kane observed the notes one more time. “Well, at least we know we’re on the right track with Yuso, right?” “Yeah. I hope so.” Minho nodded, although he seemed a little unsure. The leader picked up his chopsticks, gesturing to everyone around him. “Eat up, you don’t want your food to get cold.”

[sportsnightnut]

this version of normal

Inspired by @megk18 's post found here, wherein Mulder determines that he wants their baby girl to be photographed in a pumpkin. I think this is an absolutely perfect headcanon, so I turned it into a lil’ fic. :)

Set post-S11, but there’s barely a raindrop of angst in here. Maybe two tiny drops, but it’s 99.8% fluff. So go ahead and call your dentist now if you haven’t recently, ’cause you’re probably going to need a good teeth cleaning after this.

Suggested listening: "Father and Daughter" by Paul Simon.

Tagging @i-gaze-at-scully , @frangipanidownunder ​, and @baronessblixen ​ :) Oh, and of course, @fictober.

They chose her name years ago, when one night, tipsy from red wine and drunk on each other, they planned out their future together. A future where bad things wouldn’t happen to them. Where they would live in a cute little house and be a cute little family and maybe try to find some semblance of normal for once, whatever that might mean for them.

Mulder poured them each another glass of wine and returned to his end of the couch; her feet quickly found their way back to the comfy spot on his lap.

As Scully swirled the dark red liquid around in her glass, she smiled at him. “What would we name her?”

And for some reason it had always been a her. Maybe because it was too painful to talk about it being a him. Maybe because this was all daydreaming anyway, planning for a future they weren’t sure would be possible.

“Caroline,” Mulder said almost immediately, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. “It means strong. Like you. Like us.”

The days between that night and this one haven’t been as normal or as peaceful as they had hoped.

When she tells him the news, he says “That’s impossible,” and she says, “I know. I know it is. It’s more than impossible.”

But the way he holds her in the moments following, rests his chin on her head, uses his thumb to rub her back comfortingly, isn’t impossible or new or surprising. It’s just them, together. 

As partners. 

As they’ve always been. 

As they’ve always hoped to be.

Her hair has grown since the winter, lightened considerably by the sun so that it looks more strawberry blonde than dark red. Frizzy from the late summer humidity, it’s swept up into a messy ponytail.  She’s wearing her favorite black yoga pants, which are stretched out by her belly and covered by the oversized Yankees tank she wears on top. No bra, because it’s too hot and they’re too itchy and they all dig into her in the wrong places these days, and also because Mulder has whatever the opposite of complaints are about that.

Scully is bothered because it’s September and it’s still hot as hell outside. She loves Virginia and all its seasons, but these days, she’s feeling like summer has overstayed its welcome. She pads around the kitchen, grabs things from various cabinets and drawers, glances at her phone every few minutes to double-check the measurements. The dish just barely makes it into the oven before Mulder arrives to investigate.

Before he can say anything, Scully holds up her hand to stop him.

“I know it’s 86 degrees out with 79 percent humidity, but I’m sweaty and I want it to be fall so I’m making pumpkin bars. Okay?”

She’s defensive about pumpkin bars, and Mulder knows she would likely whack him with the crockpot lid she’s holding if he commented on how goddamn adorable she is right now, so he just nods. “I like pumpkin bars. What’s going in the crockpot?”

“Applesauce,” she confirms. Before she can ask, he’s secured the paring knife from the drawer to the right of the stove, and he holds his hand out for an apple.

“Applesauce sounds good,” Mulder says reassuringly. He places a soft kiss on her cheek which elicits a small smile.

She taps a few buttons on her phone and suddenly the Yankees - Red Sox playoff game is playing over the bluetooth speakers. Mulder looks over at her and wonders if it’s possible to be any more in love with a woman than he is with Dana Katherine Scully.

He decides midway through peeling the first apple that the answer to that question is no.

When it’s time, Scully is much calmer than he is. Mulder isn’t really surprised by this, considering that’s how it has been the entirety of their relationship (and the fact that she’s, you know, a doctor), but he is a little surprised at the sense of panic he feels.

“Hey. Hey,” Scully says quietly. She reaches over to place her hand on top of his. “I’m fine. She’s fine. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. We have plenty of time.”

Mulder nods, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles start to turn white. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there the first time.”

Scully pulls his right hand from the steering wheel so she can hold it tightly in her own. This isn’t the first time he’s said that, and she knows it won’t be the last.

“I know. But you’re here now.” She places a kiss on the back of Mulder’s hand and feels the pulse in his wrist begin to slow.

When Caroline Melissa Mulder is placed into her father’s arms, he is awestruck.

“Hi there,” Mulder murmurs, pressing his lips to her sweet, soft head. He had never quite decided on a nickname he’d like to call her; his family hadn’t been that kind of family, so there wasn’t anything that rolled naturally off his tongue.

But when he looks down at Caroline’s tiny chubby cheeks, her tiny green eyes, and the smattering of beautiful auburn hair on top of her tiny head, he knows right away what to call her.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Caroline has been home with them for just barely a week, and Mulder is doing everything he can to make up for the fact that he wasn’t there the first time. So much so that Scully has to remind him that he may want to lay her down occasionally, lest her father's arms become the only place his little pumpkin can sleep.

He tries to fumble with an excuse, but she kisses him in the middle of a sentence as if to say “It’s okay. I understand. I’m glad you’re here.”

The October evening is cool but not cold, so Scully leaves the kitchen window open to let in a little fresh air. She lights the new candle they picked up at Trader Joe’s yesterday (vanilla pumpkin, naturally) and puts two squares of apple crisp into the oven. She finishes portioning the pot roast leftovers into their little glass containers, turns on the dishwasher, and gets The West Wing ready on Netflix before heading upstairs. (Caroline slept most of the way through the night last night, so Scully is hopeful that they can stay awake for at least one whole episode.)

She stops in the doorway of the nursery and smiles at the sight of her husband rocking their daughter, talking to her in hushed tones and humming a Paul Simon song to help her fall asleep.

Mulder isn’t immediately aware of Scully’s presence because he’s so focused on the little girl in his arms, but soon enough he looks up and sees her there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, that same smile still brightening her face.

He places Caroline gently in the crib and dims the light fully, double-checking to make sure the baby monitor is on. He follows Scully downstairs with his hand on the small of her back, taking care to avoid the creaky step. Two empty bowls await them on the kitchen counter, ready to be filled with apple crisp and ice cream.

“So I have an idea for her newborn pictures,” Mulder starts as he pulls the warm apple crisp from the oven. Scully removes her head from the freezer, leaning over so he can take the carton of ice cream from her outstretched arm. “I saw a bunch of stuff on a website...Pinterest?”

Scully rolls her eyes. “You’ve gone down the internet rabbit hole. Next you’re going to tell me you started a board full of Thanksgiving recipes and Christmas cookies.”

“Maybe,” he answers with a wink. She chuckles as he passes the carton of ice cream back. “What would you think of putting her in an actual pumpkin? I dunno, it’s probably too much, but I saw this one where there was a blanket draped over the pumpkin and the baby was sleepy and she had a little bow on and…” Mulder trails off as he pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans to show her the photo he’d saved.

Scully smiles as she wraps her arms around him, her cheek resting comfortably against his soft sweater. “I think putting our pumpkin in a pumpkin might be the most precious idea I’ve ever heard.”

They like this version of normal.

[passionate-baker]

Italian Adventures Part I: Florence

Friends, welcome to Part I of our Italian Adventures: Florence!

I’m so excited to share this travel guide with you! It has been such a long time in the making and I’m dying to tell you about all of our favourite places in the Tuscan capital. 

Let me just start with this statement: we adore Italy. If Italophile is a word - which google has led me to believe it could be - then Boyfriend & I would definitely be described as such. We love the vibe, the food, the wine, the museums, the language, the atmosphere, the gelato, everything. This is the case for Italy as a whole, yes - but Florence in particular has something that other Italian cities just can’t compare with.. and I’m not just talking about the world’s best cheesecake - but there’s more on that below. 

There’s a huge amount of recommendations in this post. I’ve streamlined the recs into six sections: Stay / Coffee / Eat / Drink / Museums + Attractions / Places to See. The first four are self-explanatory, but the difference between the last two sections is an entry fee; Museums + Attractions are all paid entrance, while the Places to See are free. If you have any doubts about any of the places listed below, just know that we’ve been to each & every single place a whole bunch of times (some an embarrassingly large amount of times), so you know you can actually trust us when we say they’re reliable. 

Happy travelling, friends! 

STAY

Leonardo House  //  we’ve stayed at Leonardo House on our last two visits to the city, and - unless we win the lottery and splurge on a fancy hotel - we’ll definitely be returning again! It has an amazing location, it’s extremely budget friendly, and the manager is so so lovely. It’s more of a hostel than anything else, so it’s more pared back than what you might be looking for, but the private rooms are clean and quiet. Honestly, it’s the location that has us returning time after time - it is literally less than a three minute walk straight into the centre of the Duomo complex - what more could you ask for?

COFFEE

Caffe Gilli  //  we have a copy of Ruth Orkin’s fabulous American Girl in Italy photograph & I’d wanted to visit the spot it was taken in since the first moment I saw it. That place is Caffe Gilli. We were so far from disappointed upon walking in the doors that we went back for our morning hit every. single. day. and then some. Pro tip: drink your coffee & eat your pastry at the bar, it costs much less! .. and before you ask: yes, we tried to capture our own take of the iconic photo, and also: no, you cannot see it. A must-visit. 

La Rinascente  //  to be honest, I can’t actually remember what the coffee is like in Rinascente - but that isn’t why you should go there anyway. The cafe boasts a rooftop terrace - La Terrazza - that has a breathtaking view over the Duomo complex. It is the ultimate place for a romantic coffee date. Shout-out to Boyfriend’s parents for recommending!

EAT

4Leoni  //  we are obsessed with 4Leoni. It is hands down our favourite restaurant in Florence, and we have been back an embarrassing amount of times. The food is always impeccable, the location is stunning, the staff are extremely friendly, it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg, and it’s home to the best baked cheesecake the world has ever seen. I’m not even exaggerating a little bit. A definite must-visit. 

Il Santo Bevitore  //  okay fine, we are also mildly obsessed with IlSB, and have returned a few times now. The food is always exceptional, and there is a level of perfection & professionalism about the place that 4Leoni can’t quite compare with. The menu is inventive, unusual - on our last visit there was a strong Japanese influence to the meals - and leaves us wowed every time. Our most recent culinary highlights included: an n’duja pasta starter that left Boyfriend drooling, & a mouth-wateringly thick steak that was cooked to absolute perfection. Another must-visit.

Trattoria Giovanni  //  I can’t remember exactly what led us to this restaurant, but we had an unexpectedly fantastic meal. The atmosphere wasn’t as comfortable as either 4Leoni or Il Santo Bevitore, but the place can’t be faulted on the food. We shared a delicious cheese board to start, and had two absolutely perfect pasta dishes for mains -  braised beef cheek for him, and wild boar for me. Overall, a surprisingly good find.

O’Munaciello  //  pizzeria in the Oltrarno. A large, quirky room decorated with fairy lights, candles, and puppets. A real no frills place, but the pizza is reliably good and not too expensive. 

La Carraia Gelato  //  our favourite gelato in city, and arguably the best of the bunch. We are repeat visitors and are forever opting for our fave flavours: nocciola & pistacchio - so. good. 

DRINK

Il Santino  //  extra chic wine bar connected to Il Santo Bevitore. An amazingly tiny space with a small handful of tables clustered together & stools lining the bar. The room is dark & moody, the vibe casual & hipster. The menu is minuscule and sans prices, but after a brief chat with our extremely knowledgeable waitress, we were brought the custom made charcuterie & cheese board of our dreams. We lingered over our tiny table with our various glasses of wine - which were paired with our food by our waitress - for as long as was socially acceptable. If you read our Edinburgh Guide, the place has the same kind of feel as Smith & Gertrude (but so much nicer and friendlier). We loved every single second, a definite must-visit. 

La Ménagere  //  I’ll be honest, I only wanted to visit LM because of the powers of Instagram. I saw it on my feed, I loved the style, & I had to see it for myself. The space itself is beautiful, and it melted my insta-eyes as soon as we reached the door. Initially, I had to drag Boyfriend inside - he isn’t as easily influenced as I - but once we spied the cocktail list, peace was restored. An ice cold margarita served in a silver chalice for me, an old fashioned garnished with shavings of chocolate for him. They were, honestly, the best cocktails of our entire lives. Win-win!

5 e Cinque  //  one night, after dinner in 4Leoni - which is literally a stone’s throw away - we wandered in here for a glass of wine. We enjoyed two glasses of the most delicious Sangiovese ever, for an incredibly reasonable price. Although we had just eaten, everything on the dinner menu sounded so enticing that we vowed to return.

Bulli & Balene  //  the perfect spot for an Aperol Spritz. I think we went to B&B every single day we were in Florence. Both as a pre- & post-dinner at 4Leoni drink, as an afternoon pick-me-up, as a “hey, that place was nice!” stop-off on a wander around town, as a perfect spot to people-watch over a glass or two, you name it. Added bonus: drinks are excellent value!

Archea Brewery  //  we love wine & all - don’t get us wrong - but sometimes you just need a good beer, and this is the place for that. We visit every time we’re in the city & have yet to leave disappointed. Think dark cavernous room with a cozy atmosphere and a relaxed vibe. Pro tip: go for the own brand lager, it’s delicious! A beer lover’s must-visit.

Antica Sosta degle Aldobrandini  //  a perfect people-watching spot. Small bar, cheap food, located across the road from the Medici Chapel, with cold Becks in fridge. We’ll take two, thanks.   

MUSEUMS + ATTRACTIONS 

Santa Maria del Fiore Complex  //  obviously, everyone visits the complex for one reason: the Duomo. The Cathedral itself is breathtakingly beautiful & probably worth some of your precious time, but definitely don’t miss the chance to climb the Duomo. If you’re an art history nerd like me, be sure to check out the Duomo Museum at the back of the complex - amongst other things, they have Michelangelo’s Florentine Pieta (!), and an exact replica of Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise that you can actually look at without being hassled by hundreds of tourists. Pro tip: buy your ticket for the complex (you have to by an all-in-one ticket) the day before you plan to climb the Duomo; that way you can beat the majority of the queues by getting there before the ticket office opens for the day. For sure, a must-visit. 

Uffizi  //  like the Louvre, this is one of those museums that you just can’t miss. It’s home to some wonderful pieces of art by the greats: Botticelli, Da Vinci, Caravaggio etc, the list is endless. It always takes longer to work through the circuitous layout than expected, so be sure to allow extra time.

Accademia  //  obviously, when in Florence, you have to visit Michelangelo’s masterpiece: David... or more specifically speaking, you have to go marvel at that perfectly sculpted specimen of man. I made several return trips around the pedestal just to fully appreciate how beautiful he is. And to check out his butt, of course. Wowza. 

Boboli Gardens  //  although undeniably beautiful in their own right, we only bought tickets into the gardens for one reason: the Buontalenti Grotto. The grotto is at the end of the Vasari Corridor - which I’ve never had the opportunity to visit but would absolutely love to - & is honestly like something straight out of my imagination. We stood outside the gates staring in for an embarrassing amount of time - the sculptures inside are beyond amazing.

PLACES TO SEE

Loggia dei Lanzi  //  my favourite sculpture in the entire world - The Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna - is located in the Loggia, not a stone’s throw from the Uffizi. Basically, the Loggia is a free, open-air sculpture gallery filled with unmissable pieces of art. Whenever we visit, I stand mesmerized under Giambologna’s masterpiece before moving on to gawp at Cellini’s selfie in the back of Perseus’s helmet. For me, this is a total must-visit.

Palazzo Michelangelo  //  everyone recommends walking up here and it is easy to see why: you get to see beautiful Firenze from on high! The bridges spanning the width of the winding Arno, the red rooftops capping the city, the Duomo. Pro tip: head up there super early to avoid the crowds... or brave the crowds & go for that magical time right before the sun sets. 

Fiesole  //  we actually have Boyfriend’s mom to thank for telling us all about the small hilltop village of Fiesole, about a 20-minute bus ride out of the city. The bus ticket was super cheap (like, €1.50), and the journey alone was worth it - it takes these winding roads out of the city going up, up, up, leaving you gaping out the window at the views of Florence below. The village is adorable, and very quiet in comparison to the busy streets of Firenze. We hiked up towards the Monastery of San Francesco to get that view over Florence. Perfection!

Palazzo Stozzi  //  a breathtakingly beautiful space in the heart of the city. Used largely as an exhibition space - when we visited they were just about to start a Marina Ambrovic show - but open to the public to walk around. 

RELATED POSTS: 

Bremen, Germany  //  Paris, France  //  Amsterdam, Holland   //  Copenhagen, Denmark  //  Cork, Ireland  //  Edinburgh, Scotland  //  Westport, Ireland  //  Barcelona, Spain  //  Munich, Germany  //  Vienna, Austria  //  London, UK i - ii - iii 

[sidpah]

Nature’s Classroom

There is no warmth coaxing me out, and I’m away from home for the first time. Far far away, and I’m too young to be strong. Looking up at the springs and underside of a drab military mattress. I hate the creep who’s sleeping on it. I hate the kids snoring all around me. I’m alone among them and can’t wait for the calendar page to fall so I can break the hell out of here.

Earlier when I sat on my bunk rifling through my duffle-bag looking at trinkets and wrinkled pictures, fighting back the tears that come with remembering, they laughed at me, legs dangling from high bunks, talons gnarled together eyeing me like celluloid vultures in a wool and pine desert. There’s no electricity so there’s no television or radio or any other entertainment than watching this fat little jester.

I palmed an old letter so they wouldn’t see and slid it into my pocket so they couldn’t read it. Or steal it. They’re a bunch of thieves. That’s why we’ve been confined together. Not one of us is innocent. I won’t lie about that. The difference between us is that I feel rehabilitated. Or penitent. While they revel in their baseness. It’s their bond. It’s all they talk about: reminiscing hauls, their muggings and petty thefts, rings slipped off oblivious fingers, folded cash from a mother’s hidden billfold… And how they’d spent their ill-gotten funds, and what they’ll do together, when they’re freed, pitting their feeble minds against the petty cash of the unsuspecting public. These were the influences the superiors have seen fit to buffer me with, and the best I can do is try to tell myself that I’m not actually here. That and hide my valuables. (Nothing I own has significant monetary value, purely sentimental, but those pricks don’t delineate between the two; valuable is valuable, and the thought that they have something someone else wants is the only kick that matters.)

I hide them in a small slit that I made on the side of my mattress. It’s a tiny incision right in the middle near the wall where my head would lay when I was pretending to sleep.

In the dark I would snake a hand down into my bag, root around until I’d extracted an item to secret away, and then oh so slowly, pull it up under the covers. With great patience, so their nocturnally-trained burglar eyes wouldn’t catch the movement, I’d bring my hand up and slip it under the pillow where I would deposit the treasure without anyone being the wiser. This whole process could take upwards of twenty minutes. But it was worth it. It was all so I’d have the relief, potent tangible relief, of sliding my hand under the pillow and into the hole just to know that my past was where I’d left it.

But now the mattress above me sags in the middle and I turn over to try to keep from watching the springs pull and compress. It makes me queasy.

“You sleeping?” he asks me. I produce a fake snore but he doesn’t buy it. “Fruitcake, fruitcake, I know you’re awake.” I bury my head beneath the covers and curl up tight. Something soft bounces off my ear. “Wake up, you little bitch.” I snore again too loudly and it hurts my throat. “Wanna suck me off?” I roll over on my back and see his face, all protruding eyes. “Come on, I know you want to. A handjob, then. You’re down there jerking off anyway. Help a brother out.” Fucker. I don’t look at him and turn onto my other side. I hear him roll over and now he’s facing me again. Goddamn it. “Hey, hey, pansy, come on, no one’ll know. I know you want to,” he whispers curling his lips into a snarl.

Without premeditation, I roll onto my back and piston two legs toward the mattress, kicking with all my might the sag above my stomach. I can’t help but laugh as his dark form gracelessly falls past me and smacks loudly on the concrete floor, tailed by the angular blur of his blanket covering his limbs sprawled out and I can smell the surprise on him. Fucker, hope he’s dead, I think with tasty satisfaction.

That week I didn’t shit on a toilet or shower once. The line was never too long but I couldn’t bring myself to be part of it. I’d rather hide behind a nice clean bush. I’m not so civilized that I can’t tell poison ivy from a maple leaf.

I sat alone beneath a towering pine in the middle of a thunderstorm. I kept dry while I prayed for a tornado. That prayer, like all my prayers, was left unanswered. The tree later fell on a hiker and killed him dead a few feet from where I sat. I thought about running away at the height of the downpour, but I didn’t know how I’d gotten here, so I didn’t know how to leave. I thought about just heading deep into the woods. Surely there must be a road carved in there somewhere. But I knew I’d die either at the paws of a bear or at the slow steady hands of starvation.

So I remained in my place and fell desperately in love with a little copper-haired girl who cheered me on as I tried to swing over the mud or lava or imaginary gorge (can’t remember which it was supposed to be) and my feet scraped at it and either got dirty or burned or scooped helplessly at the air. It’s not flattering but most times I simply died a bumbling death. But she didn’t mind, and she always managed to bring me back to life, even when the others were ready to bury me where I lay. When she swung I made sure to catch her, just to feel her body beneath her warm winter coat. To know what a warm body felt like. What a body like hers would feel like. Sometimes I’d pretend that I’d forgotten how to let go. I yelled out sincere words of encouragement as she scaled the wall I was too afraid to approach. I knew the embarrassment already. There was no need to relive the experience. I’d tried to talk her out of climbing but it was something she had to do. Some of us feel motivated to do grand things. Some of us barely feel the motivation to feel motivated. I watched on with vicarious consternation. And when she fell from thirty feet above, my heart lurched. I gasped, hoping no one heard. From so far away I saw the expression of shock her entire body curled itself into, that instinctual “O” her lips made as her fingers clawed at the crumbing rock. I saw the tips of those fingers scrape open revealing their core and I saw her hair stay suspended around her face as the rest of her fragile shell rushed toward me for the last time.

When she hit the ground she was laughing and smiling and joking about how it was much more fun to come down than it was to climb up. The cord saved her. But I hugged her all the tighter when she landed. If I could, I would never let her leave the ground again.

I ate paltry breakfasts consisting of one paper cup of raisins and one small half-brown banana while everyone else had bacon and eggs, hash browns and pancakes. I had orange juice. They had orange juice. We pretended to be equals. I would clean up the dishes afterwards and someone would stay to help. They would be rewarded with a plaque for helping me. I was duty-bound to my chores. They were going beyond their call. I was the imbecile who always needed assistance. My first day there I got lost. I dragged bulging green duffle-bag over dirt and rock and fern. Going from shack to shack asking if this is where I belonged. I didn’t belong here at all, and I knew it before I’d stepped foot into the van hours earlier. Before I posed for that final commemorative photograph. But when someone approached and offered to help me with my bag and indoctrinate me into the ranks, he was given a medal or a plaque or a commendation. I was scolded for being late and chastised for being directionless.

Often, she would stay to help, no matter how little there was for her to do. And no matter how much she’d rather be joining in with whichever group activity she was choosing to miss. I hated group activities. That mandatory ballroom dancing could have been the worst. If she didn’t always offer to be my partner. She was the subtle variation that mutated the revolting into the sublime. I searched for her whenever possible. I probably made her detest me with my clinginess. But if she grew sick of me, she never once showed it. Even when we were torn from our feigned slumber for a fire drill in the dark cold hours when I was busy not sleeping and not shitting, I dropped out of my ranks and ran to find her in her flannel pajamas, arms wrapped tight across her shaking midsection. She was standing in line. I forgot we were segregated and that I shouldn’t be seeing all the other girls in their bedclothes. I didn’t see them anyhow. I saw only her and she seemed delighted that I’d come all the way to find her. I hadn’t remembered my shoes so my feet turned yellow and went numb. Which was okay because I couldn’t feel all the rocks that I stepped on or the piece of broken soda bottle that I wasn’t awake enough to see embedded in the dirt. I spent the rest of the night happily extracting glass and stones from my cold dead feet, not in the least thinking about my task and only remembering how her hair looked, tussled from her pillow, and the rosy hue of her cheeks surrounded by clouds of my hanging breath.

Later I slept flu-bound on a couch behind the stage while the troops were being entertained. The music made my head swim, putting me in mind of a school fieldtrip I’d attended years before. I’d been so scared by a performance of The Wind in the Willows that I’d laid down on the theater floor stretched out beneath the seats of four or five of my classmates. The cool surface and smell of chewed bubblegum calmed me. Not having to see those swinging actors in animal makeup and fake fur calmed me. “He has a stomachache,” my teacher told the kids who asked why I was pinching their legs from behind. I smiled to myself and then rolled over to vomit into a brown pail. She came to me when she could. She brought me cool wet washcloths for my forehead and glasses of water to sip with chocolate graham crackers to nibble on if I felt up to it.

“You can’t call home,” they said. “Against the rules,” they said. “Against the law,” I said. Like always, the elders’ rules prevailed.

I shuffled into the trailer to get my nightly fix while she waited for me outside. The old woman had what I needed in a little paper cup. She was nice – didn’t make me pay. Guess she felt sorry for me. Not sorry enough to let me use her phone, though. I sat at a small cluttered table that probably folded into the wall, or would have, if she’d ever cleaned it off, which to the best of my knowledge, she never did. Over it was one tiny porthole of a window with the curtains perpetually drawn. The door was light and creaked, felt like aluminum and cardboard. There was never a smell of food in that trailer. I wonder if she ever ate. Only the bitter wisps of an inhaler and the stale scent of old tobacco.

On the last day, I watched the little copper-haired girl climb the steps to her bus, leaving for a distant land, and I waved optimistically with a big plastered-on smile full of big sad teeth, asking her to keep in touch. Knowing for the first time what it was to be heartbroken. She didn’t wave back. I headed off to my own bus, bound southward, all the while stealing wistful glances, hoping to see her turn, wave, run to my waiting embrace replete with soundtrack of swelling strings… She never replied to any of my letters.

Some time in, I was taken under the wing of an old gentleman who taught me things I cherished and then forgot. He taught me survival in the woods. He taught me either to find a large tree in a thunderstorm and stay beneath it, or else stay as far away from any large trees as you can, I can’t remember which. He taught me which mushrooms I could eat if I was starving, and which ones I could eat if I was suicidal. He taught me how to make a fire with a tent peg and a dead leaf. He taught me that even elderly couples, those who seem so content and at ease, can still secretly despise one another. He taught me to see people for what they are and accept them for the same reasons. The most important lesson he taught me was kindness. For that I will not regret the experience.

[dillvne]

TASK 001.               DIVE INTO YOUR CHARACTER.

oi chuchus, tentei fazer um negócio diferente então acabei juntando algumas coisinhas que, na minha concepção, são bem interessantes. e que coletei durante as aventuras pela tag indie. espero que não tenha problema estar em inglês ! a tag para a postagem da task é task01.apocalypse e sintam-se livres para fazer edits, moodboard ou qualquer opções de aesthetic, ou nenhuma. o que acharem melhor. é isso, espero que gostem <3  

YOUR STEREOTYPICAL MASCULINE SIDE

NEGRITE o que se aplicar ao seu personagem.

you love hoodies.  you love shorts.   dogs are better than cats.  it’s hilarious when people get hurt.   shopping is torture.   sad movies suck.   you own a car racing game.   you played with hot wheels cars as a kid.   at some point in time you wanted to be a fire fighter.   you owned a ds, ps2, n64, or sega.  you used to be obsessed with power rangers.   you have watched sports on tv.   gory movies are cool.   you go to your dad for advice.   you own like a trillion baseball caps.   you used to collect hockey or baseball cards.   baggy sweats are cool to wear.   it’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people.  green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favourite colours.  you love to go crazy and not care what people think.   sports are fun.  you talk with food in your mouth.   you sleep with your socks on at night.   you have fished at least once.

YOUR STEREOTYPICAL FEMININE SIDE

you love to shop.   you wear eyeliner.   you wear the color pink.   you go to your mom to talk.  you consider cheerleading a sport.   you hate wearing the color black.   you like going to the mall.  you like getting manicures and/or pedicures.   you like wearing jewelry.   you cried watching the notebook.   dresses are a big part of your wardrobe.   shopping is one of your favorite hobbies.  you don’t like the movie star wars.   you are/were in gymnastics.   it takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and make-up.   you smile a lot more than you should. you have more than 10 pairs of shoes.   you care about what you look like.  you like wearing dresses when you can. you like wearing high heel shoes.  you used to play with dolls as little kid.   you like putting make-up on others.  you like being the star of everything.

APPEARANCE

i am shorter than 5’5”. i have scars. i tan easily. i wish my hair was a different color.   i have friends who have never seen my natural hair color. i have a tattoo. i am self-conscious about my appearance. i’ve had/have braces. i’ve been told i’m attractive by a complete stranger. i have more than two piercings. i have/had piercings in places besides my ears.

EXPERIENCES

i’ve gotten lost in my city. i’ve seen a shooting star. i’ve wished on a shooting star. i’ve seen a meteor shower. i’ve gone out in public in my pajamas. i’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator.i’ve kicked a guy where it hurts. i’ve been to a casino. i’ve been skydiving. i’ve gone skinny-dipping. i’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour. i’ve crashed a car. i’ve been skiing. i’ve been in a musical. i’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue. i’ve seen the northern lights. i’ve sat on a rooftop at night.  i’ve played a prank on someone.  i’ve ridden in a taxi. i’ve seen the rocky horror picture show. i’ve eaten sushi. i’ve been snowboarding.

HONESTY/CRIME

i’ve done something i promised someone else i wouldn’t. i’ve done something i promised myself i wouldn’t. i’ve snuck out. i’ve lied to my parents about where i am. i’ve cheated while playing a game. i’ve ran a red light. i’ve witnessed a crime. i’ve been in a fist fight. i’ve been arrested.

DEATH AND SUICIDE

i’m afraid of dying. i hate funerals. i’ve seen someone/something dying. someone close to me has attempted/committed suicide. i’ve written a eulogy for myself.

RANDOM

i can sing well. stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant. i open up to others easily. i watch the news. i don’t kill bugs. i sing in the shower. i am a morning person. i paid for a cell phone ring tone. i am a sports fanatic. i twirl my hair. i care about grammar. i have “?”’s in my screen name. i’ve copied more than 30 cds in a day. i bake well. my favorite color is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange. i would wear pajamas to school. i like martha stewart. i know how to shoot a gun. i laugh at my own jokes. i eat fast food weekly. i’ve not turned anything in and still got an a in a certain class. i can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room. i am ticklish. i love white chocolate. i bite my nails. i’m good at remembering faces.i’m good at remembering names. i’m good at remembering dates. i honestly have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life.

RUSSIAN CLASSICS AESTHETICS.

NEGRITE o que atrair / se aplicar ao seu personagem.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV   :   orthodox monasteries   ,   deep woods  ,  starry nights ,   the sound of paper being torn   ,   dimly lit rooms ,   withered roses   ,  an unfinished letter  ,  piles of books   ,   the sound of shattering glass  ,  ticking of clocks in a silent house   ,   heavy wooden furniture  ,   the air before a storm   ,   the smell of earth   ,   a crowd of people dressed in black   ,  distant murmurs   ,  emptied streets  ,   the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT   :   coldness of the skin against a blade   ,   slender pale fingers   &   slightly shaking hands   ,   a red stain blooming on white fabric   ,  lonely steps in a corridor   ,  the slow dripping of water   ,   looking out of the window into the thickening darkness   ,   a single dying candle on the table   ,   listening to one’s breath   &   counting heartbeats  ,  too many stairs   ,   the desire to be invisible   ,   a subtle memory of kind word.

THE IDIOT   :   classical statues   ,   wealth covered with dust   ,   a dark house tainted with inherited madness   ,  an unsettling feeling ,   long walks in a park   ,   useless chatter   ,   a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench   ,   a melancholic face   ,   an unexpected spring rain   ,   the joy of reading one’s favorite book  ,  the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around   ,  looking at cloudless sky.

ANNA KARENINA :      fields of crops  ,   flowers brought from an early morning walk   ,  the wind caressing a girl’s hair   ,   a bowl of fruit  ,   the smell of ripe pears   ,   the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea   ,   children’s laughter coming from the garden   ,   soft sunlight   &   white curtains  ,   the sensation of velvet against skin ,  pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor   ,  a sudden silence in a room full of people.

WAR AND PEACE   :   a glass of wine  ,   the brightness of  a crystal chandelier  ,  white lace   , a raging snow storm   ,  the sound of a door being gently closed ,   the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room   ,   indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light   ,  closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing   ,   the sweet smell of strawberries   ,  a pair of gloves left on an armchair ,   light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA   :    the chaos of a lively city ,   ambient jazz in expensive restaurants   ,   jumping on a moving tram ,    the sight of moscow from the roof of a house   , yellow flowers in a vase  ,  leaning out of the window  ,  shelves stacked with books   , a small tin box with old photographs   ,  strange shapes in the night sky   , laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony   ,   colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN   :    a lonely mansion   ,   reading a book in the parlor   ,  faint piano melody lingering in falling silence  ,   long evenings   ,   passing seasons   ,   discussing french novels of the moment   ,  unspoken thoughts   ,   leaning against the door frame  , quickly averted glance  ,  eating a peach absent-minded   ,  bright mornings   , footprints in snow   ,  a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

FATHERS AND SONS   :   birch groves   , morning mist   ,  moss-covered stones near a moor   ,   scientific books   ,   white roses   ,   cheap champagne   ,   shabby pocket-watch  ,   light-hearted irony   ,   a maladroit cello sonata   ,    freshly mowed grass   , leaving thoughts come   &   go   ,  a slow yawn  ,   picturesque plates   &   bowls filled with traditional dishes   ,  drinking tea on the porch.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO   :   a strange feeling of loss ,  writing poems in a diary , traveling by train   ,   the hesitation before touching someone’s hand   ,   the gaze of one lost in thought  , the warmth of cinnamon   ,   a scarf brightly embellished with flowers   ,  a glass of water   ,    a threadbare jacket  ,   the tempting void   ,  the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

CHERRY ORCHARD   :   a lone chair in an empty room  , falling blossoms   ,   old samovar   ,   the unsettling need for change  ,   a mirror reflecting full moon   ,  the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance   ,   a piano out of tune.

[suckitsurveys]

Do you like your pop tarts toasted or cold? Either way

Do you like sitting in the front, back, or middle of the classroom? The back, usually.

What color is the last rug you stepped on? Grey.

Who was the very first person you sent a text message to? A boy.

Do you ever see commercials for restaurants that aren’t even in your area? I don’t think so. Not recently, anyway. A few years back they’d play Jack in the Box commercials and the closest one to Chicago is near St. Louis. which is like 3-4 hours away...

What’s your least favorite flavor of candy? Grape.

Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightening before? Nope.

Which is worse: living where there’s lots of tornadoes or lots of hurricanes? I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been in either.

Do you prefer baths with or without bubbles? Bubbles are nice but it’s not a necessity.

Have you ever thought your pet was dead but really wasn’t? Yes. My dad’s dog cosmo freaks me out all the time like that. He’s very old and we’re pretty sure he’s semi deaf so sometimes you can like stomp right next to where he is laying and he won’t even flinch.

What would you do if you had the world to yourself for a day? Nothing too out of the ordinary unless this day to myself also came with a bunch of money.

Would you consider becoming a stripper if it was the only way to support your child? There’s nothing wrong with that.

Do you take anything for your cramps during that time of month? No.

Are you good at remembering little details? Yeah, usually.

What do you think you’d be better at: being an artist or a musician? Artist.

Have you ever seen a black rose? Yes.

Do you blog? Tumblr barely counts.

Are you a fan of cottage cheese? No.

Do you believe in angels? I like to believe my mom is somewhere looking after me.

Do you have any window stick-ons? Yeah.

Would you pay if your dog needed an operation? ...Of course?? If I owned a dog (the dog mentioned a few questions back is my father’s), I would definitely pay for it to have an operation, I have a soul.

Is your coffee machine plugged in right now? We don’t have one.

Do you write words on your knuckles? No.

Have you ever been a SCUBA diver for Halloween? Nope.

Have you ever taken a picture of a sandwich? Oh yes.

Have you ever seen elephant droppings? At the zoo, yes.

Would you like to visit Play Dough Land? That sounds like fun.

Have you ever read about Rome? Sure?

Do you remember Topanga from Boy Meets World? How could I forget our lord and savior Topanga Lawrence? <---I like Kayla’s answer.

Have you ever lost your parents in the grocery store? Yeah.

Have you drawn a star today? I have not.

Is anybody in your house sleeping? The cat might be.

Are you older or younger than fifteen? I am 13 years older than 15.

Do you have any friends that got married within the past year? Hi Hannah! <--Oh jeeze that’s me.

When was the last time you used a pair of ear/headphones? Yesterday at the gym.

Have you ever tried to count to infinity? Nope.

Do you like making mixed cds? I loved making them when they were still a thing.

Would you want to live forever if it meant being a tree? Eh.

What is the strangest thing you’ve put chocolate on? I’m not sure. I’ve had a chocolate bar with bacon in it, and one with potato chips in it. Does that count?

Could you earn a good living selling weed? Nah.

How would you use a photographic memory? Uh.

Who would you like to keep in your trunk? I’m okay.

What would you do tomorrow if you had $500? Oh my god that would be AMAZING.

What body hair gets the most attention? Wait, what do you mean? Like from other people? Or what I give the most attention when caring for? This is weird.

What’s your favorite commercial? I don’t have one right now.

Do you like pie? Pumpkin pie, yes.

Do you appreciate dishwashers? I get waaaay too heated about dishwashers. Why would you go through the extra steps of loading a machine and buying extra soap when you have to pre-rinse the dishes anyway? Just take the fifteen minutes and wash your fucking dishes. <---Dishwashers are WAY more sanitary and you don’t have to stand there and rinse them 100 times to make sure they are clean. And it doesn’t take up counter space where you’d have to dry the dishes.

If you could change someone else’s past, what would you change? I’d change my sister’s past to where she never fucking met her fucking piece of shit fucking husband. But somehow also keep my niece here and the same cute little person she is

What’s the worst experience you don’t remember? Apparently I used to projectile vomit A LOT as a baby.

Are your dreams usually cheerful? No.

If you’re a girl, what’s your favorite color of eyeliner? Black is fine.

How’s the weather where you are at? It fucking snowed and I hate it.

Anything bad happen today? Miles almost started on fire. He had a vape battery in his coat pocket and he went to pick up his coat and the battery and his pocket were flaming.

Can you solve a Rubik’s Cube? No.

What was the last thing that you microwaved? Soup yesterday.

Did you have an easy-bake oven when you were little? No.

Have you ever seen a donkey? Yeah, at a petting zoo.

Do you like sheep? Sure.

Do you like dogs? Yeah, not as much as I like cats, though.

Do you have one? Cosmo, my dad’s dog. He’s kinda mine too.

Do you ever want to be married? I am.

Do you take a lot of pictures? I do.

Where is the boy you want most? At home. We have a date tonight!

Where will you be 2 hours from now? Home. Maybe on out way to Outback to beat the crowd.

What is your current mood? I hate. But I am also excited.

Where are you going tomorrow? We might go hiking in a forest preserve unless its ungodly cold and snowy again tomorrow.

Who was the last person you yelled at? Mark, maybe.

Do you think you’ll be a good Mother/Father? I’m not going to find out.

The last thing you drank? Water.

What’s in your pocket? Nothing.

What colour are your fingernails? There are chips of black paint on them from Halloween.

Have you ever left school just because you didn’t want to be there? Yes, in college.

Did anything cute happen today? Mark kept sending me gifs of Dustin from stranger things.

What are you currently hearing? My coworkers talking in the distance.

Are you afraid of the dark? Only in an unfamiliar place.

Do you usually tell people when they hurt your feelings? Depends on the person and the degree of hurt feelings.

[fabulanova-ffxv]

Welcome Home [Nyx Ulric]

Another idea that sprung up whilst I was in the shower (heck 90% of my ideas come up in the shower LOL) But I was thinking about what Nyx would’ve done moments before he was to die. Would he have just sat there and watch the sunrise or take a stroll around Insomnia one last time. I would like to think that he took that stroll.

SHIP: NONE

WORD COUNT: 1294

❝Little soldier boy Come marching home Brave soldier boy Comes marching home…❞

The hero of Insomnia as they dubbed him to be, had accomplished his duties of protecting her royal highness of Tenebrae and the coming future of Eos. As the king’s blade his edges had dulled and duties were no more, death was the next step for him now as a worthless weapon.

His eyes gazed at the rising sun. The most beautiful he had ever seen as the pigments mixed with the rising smoke. But such sight was the only thing that was to kill him. 

When the sun rises. They had told him. And the price will be your life. But, here he still remained, a broken man amongst the ruins of the crown city, just waiting for his last breath—it never came…not yet at least.

He chuckled, dry like the air which surrounded him. For kings as mighty as they, he expected a quick death the minute the first light of dawn hit the horizon.

“Slow and painful…” Nyx scoffed. “Not like I’ve suffered enough…”

The aftermath from such sacred power which was gifted so generously by the kings of old, left him with ash and embers to lace his skin. It burned at that moment as the cursed power seared his body with their blessings—leaving scars in their wake as memory. But painful didn’t seem to be the case anymore. Moreso, he felt almost at peace. 

Looks like power wasn’t the only thing the kings gifted him. The time he had left now was precious. Nyx sighed, a heavy breath he thought he could no longer exhale. With hands rooted to the ground, he pushed himself off the rubble to a stand. He turned his heel and took his first step. As he passed where he stood, his eyes wandered to the body of his former captain. Titus Drautos or General Glauca, Nyx didn’t know who he was anymore. But none of that mattered. He was a dead man now. But the words he uttered before his last breath, it was something Nyx never thought he’d hear from his captain’s mouth. 

Hope…

Maybe there was something left. King Regis made sure of that. Nyx just hoped his service was enough for a greater king like he. 

Taking one last glance, he continued his walk down the city ruins. His pace was slow—legs feeling numb as his boots met the floor—careful to not trip on the jutting debris. Destruction was all that surrounded this lone glaive. A city, once a crowned jewel of the kingdom, now lay to waste. Mighty skyscrapers now collapsed and engulfed in flames, roads and highways were crumbled beyond repair. Gone were the colours, gone were the people—some now nothing but cold bodies only laid to waste. The beacon of light amongst the world of chaos had burnt out, and Insomnia was finally at rest.

The glaive wandered endlessly with not much of a desired destination to go. Soon, he found himself in the city’s underground. What use to be bright with neon lights was now replaced by a dull lifeless grey, with the only colour being the vandalism that covered the building walls. The smell of street-food was now replaced with lung choking smoke, and the only trace of music entering Nyx’s ears was the eerie melodies of silence. The streets that should have been such a joy to walk only felt like a stroll through death’s door.

But regardless, this had been home sweet home. 

Tilting his head up, he could see Yama’s Smul Hut above with its small wooden shack and balcony seating. A common hot spot for him and his fellow glaives. It was somewhere they could relax, free from duties, free from their lives as glaives and simply enjoy the small moments of being a regular human being—even if they were outsiders of the Lucian wall. He could still hear the laughter from his fellow glaives—Crowe, Pelna, Luche, Libertus—lingering in the air as they indulged themselves in banter and Yama’s savoury delicacies mixed with the bitter kick of liquor. Even now the taste still lingered on his tongue.

But those were now nothing but distant memories, a time in his life he would never see again. Nyx snickered. It baffled him how quickly those blessed moments were tarnished by that of death, destruction and betrayal. Whether his friends felt the same as him in their short time of tranquility, that he would never know. Yet, he still wanted nothing more than to relive those moments again, even with his last breath.

Maybe he would have a chance to relive those moments if he were to return to Galahd, but for a dying man like he, it was already too late.

There are people waiting for you back home. They had told him.

“Looks like they’ll have to wait a little longer…” he murmured, a small smirk forming on his lips. He was worth the wait.

Nyx ventured forth, through the narrow and empty streets, basking in his last few minutes of mortality. It wasn’t long until he reached his apartment building. How a worn down building like such withstood an ordeal was a miracle. He trudged up the stairs of the weathered building, his steps growing more slow and heavy with each passing second—leaving trails of ash along their wake. When he approached the door to his apartment, Nyx reached into his pockets and pulled out the keys. He was surprised that despite the battle, he still had them with him. Upon entering, his eyes landed on the state of his apartment—still the same as he had left it. Dirty dishes littered in the sink of his small kitchen; he had promised himself he’d wash them when he came back. Clothes were thrown on the floor, along with empty bottles of liquor; even now he still had a bad habit of not cleaning his living space.

Stopping in front of his desk, his eyes lingered on the small cork board. It was there did he pin mementos like that of newspaper clippings, letters and photographs. His sights then landed on a small black and white photograph, its edges were crinkled and slightly singed. Reaching his hand out, he unpinned it from the board, and with photo in hand he sat down on his old chair.

It was small family photograph—the only family photograph he had in his possession. There stood his mother, father, Selena and he—a happy bunch he remembered his fellow neighbours describing them. His thumb grazed the smiling faces of his dearest, smearing the photo with the embers of his burning skin. It wouldn’t be long until they’ll be that happy bunch once again.

Suddenly, the photograph in front of him blurred. His vision then turned gritty like a faint memory. Lungs began to heave for their last breath, causing his breathing to grow faint and shallow. Seconds passed as he sat there, time slowed along with the beating of his heart. He could feel death’s embrace wrap around him. What should’ve been frightening only gifted the glaive with bliss. The arms which held him now were comforting, like that of a hold from a mother to a child. He had forgotten the feeling of being held with such warmth.

“Nyx…” A sudden calling of his name. A familiar voice he hadn’t heard since.

Closing his eyes, he rolled his head back, and a smile graced upon the cold lips of the hero. 

Mother… Father… Selena…

He was losing his grip on mortality—slowly but surely. And much like so, the photograph which he held now fell from his loose fingertips, gently drifting to the floor beneath his feet.

And with his last breath, they carried his words to the heavens, his voice mixing with the rising ash.

“Wait for me.…”