#i have to make my characters eat things other than like. salted meat bread and cheese and soup brother.

[chromaji]

Highly disorganized but whenever i try to involve food in an EO fic i always start breaking down what exactly can be served while taking the timeline into account like FUCK, the timeline is post-apocalyptic so all kinds of shit existed but got wiped out and is slowly getting reinvented.

but according to one of these EO1U mangas, burgers hadn’t been rediscovered. & Frederika had to teach her guild what they were. There are sites that say burgers werent invented until the late 1800’s, but others say they really started as concepts as early as the 1100’s.

HOWEVER, according to an informative portrait commonly know as “Medic 2”, but oftentimes nicknamed as Mediko, candy bars also exist in the EO world which are also said to have been created in the 1800s. So maybe we’re cooking in the late 1800s equivalent.

but also Regina seems to have revived some of the more “modern” dishes (or just food you dont expect in a fantasy rpg unless it’s food-focused) with apicius’ recipes by using monster parts & ingredients grown in the labyrinth, so anything past eo2 is a sort of “you could probably translate any modern food into EO, as long as it’s made from labyrinth monsters/ingredients”. So maybe you cant say “burger” but you can say “war bison rye sandwich”. But ignoring EO2U for a second, according my brief research session I have learned that:

Crepes and burgers are, to my great joy, NOT out of the question for etrian odyssey characters to order from a shop. Restaurants in particular seemingly came around in the mid-to-late 1800s.

philly cheesesteaks are, to my great despair, out of the question as we know them, as those did not come to be until the mid 1900s. However, there is surely a combination of monsters & labyrinth ingredients that will achieve something similar before its time.

This was already known but, unfortunately, EO characters really cannot walk into a joint and say “I’LL HAVE TWO NUMBER 9s, A NUMBER 9 LARGE, A NUMBER 6 WITH EXTRA DIP, A NUMBER 7, TWO NUMBER 45s, ONE WITH CHEESE, AND A LARGE SODA”

unrelated to food but i always wondered what I was cooking when giving napier a cash register in OtL but now i’ve learned they existed in the late 1800s too.

[kcrossvine-art]

G'morning all! Its nice to get back things,. Theres been some roadblocks with med shortages and life, and also with the material for these recipes. So far we've covered a lot of pastries, not because theyre mentioned more often in the series, but because being mentioned lends them more specificity in flavor than things like gravy, peas, or various meats. The latter can be prepped, seasoned, and served in so many different ways that it feels harder to make them 'faithfully' because a packet of instant potato mash is just as faithful as a pot of buttered potato mash. Baked goods tend towards 1, maybe 2, 'base' recipes that get altered and added to. 

 Today, we'll be making Beorn's Honey Cakes! A dish from one of my partners favorite characters- a delectable little treat befitting the… warm personality of the character.

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Beorn's Honey Cakes?” YOU MIGHT ASKSimple stuff! Simple sweet stuff!

All-purpose flour

Baking powder

Salt

Ground nutmeg

Unsalted butter

Whole milk

2 eggs

Honey

Vanilla extract

The veins of honey cakes ancestry can be traced back to any moment where people began baking bread. Honey is a natural preservative, and sweeter still on its lonesome.

AND, “what does Beorn's Honey Cakes taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKLike your aching muscles repairing themselves

Tastes like a honey graham cracker

But the texture is softer, wetter- somewhat like banana bread

Oh, and this will make your house smell So So Good

If you can resist the temptation of eating them immediately, they taste even richer the day after baking

Would pair well with milk green tea

Would also pair well with fresh orange slices (or those chocolate 'orange slices' candy)

Genuinely don't forget to flip them upside down when they go to bake the second time, not sure what it is but i was curious and did a test where i flipped half of the batch upside down and kept the other half of the batch right-side up like they cooked in the muffin tin. The ones i flipped upside down universally had a more consistent texture and the honey was able to permeate further.

.where honey called for, used clover honey

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

From start to finish this recipe takes about an hour of work, give or take some negligible time for prep.

The batter is perhaps the babybird of all cake batters. The gloopy, protruding crumbs of butter, not unlike a squabs beady pupils visibly dark under its skin, break up the mass of sickly smooth and reassuringly sweet-smelling oak-colored liquid. You can feel the confusion of bees outside your home, wondering if this your attempt at making royal jelly.

Just like a babybird, it becomes more than the sum of its parts. Layer on that honey drizzle, layer it on thick, theres no risk of drowning subtle flavors. Its crisp edges will keep its form, springy and warm, inviting you as if you're not the one who crafted it (food you didn't cook always tastes better). The bees are sooooooooooooooo jealous of your opposable thumbs and muscular strength.

If you dont have eggs you could try substituting with apple mash. I can't vouch for it in this recipe but replacing eggs with mashed up apples for pancakes gives it adds a nice fruity flavor without changing the texture, and in theory should work here as well.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

270 grams all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp freshly ground nutmeg

1 stick unsalted butter

160 grams milk

2 eggs

110 grams your favorite honey

1 tsp vanilla extract

Muffin tray and parchment paper

Method:

Preheat oven to 350f

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg.

 Add the butter and rub it into the flour with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. 

In a small bowl beat the eggs until just combined. Pour in milk and then vanilla extract while stirring.  Keep stirring vigorously while slowly pouring in honey.

Stir until the mixture is consistent in color.

Pour the liquids over the dry mixture and stir until just combined.

Pour the batter into a greased muffin tray, don't use any muffin paper/lining/cups.

Bake for 16 minutes, or until they reach their full height.

Carefully remove from the muffin pan and place the muffins upside down on a parchment lined tray.

Using a silicone pastry brush, generously cover the tops of the cakes with honey. Allow to sit for about 5 minutes to let the honey soak into the cakes.

Bake for an additional 8-10 minutes, or until the cakes are golden brown.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

[the-littlest-kojin]

For Shio, Conroy, Brilliant, Ava, Gologa, Statera, Omikhle, Nith, Ban, Gloyn, Odori, Khusel, Alatyr, Blooming, Alha, Cemi'tan, Cholla, R'hia, Sajati, Saldlona, Amis, Lihtbryda, Saltsong, Galdra, Arcas, Amga, Ceru, Taraine, Nehir, Reson, Kin, Orinitt, Surya, Blaidd, Thalassa, Kolokasia, Elucia, and Nahla:

Can you please describe their favorite meal, in character?

This one was a doozy.

Shio: I’d like to be able to say something from one of my travels, but I really can’t. My favourite meal is Gasame Stew, and my family cook it best. Oh - Gasame Stew is when you kill one of those big fiery shelled crabs in the Ruby Sea, and then you throw a bunch of ingredients in its shell, and the leftover heat cooks it.

Conroy:

I’d say that my favourite meal is a rice dish that Corwyn cooks sometimes. I’m… Not sure what goes into it. Fish of some kind, I think. But he’s never let me see the cookbook.

Brilliant:

I’m not sure I have a favourite meal - I love any meal had at home, with people that I love.

Ava:

It’s not much of a “Meal”, but I’m a huge fan of grapes and apples. I’ll happily skip any meal to just to eat a bunch of grapes and an apple or two.

Gologa:

…Ovim, cooked over a campfire. Seared, lightly seasoned. 

Statera:

I miss steaks from home. Proper steaks. Cooked well-done, covered in spices, soaked in sauce. 

Omikhle:

I like a nice meat pie. Chicken, mushroom, pepper, and gravy, all mixed in a nice thin pastry shell.

Nith:

A nice poultry dish, with some pasta, maybe a cream sauce. Heavy on garlic, some peppers. Served with a nice glass of juice, ideally.

Ban:

I haven’t had it for years, now - but I honestly love salted meats, packed for preservation, best. My shipmates used to mock me that I’d eat the preserved foods even when we had fresh available.

Gloyn:

Oh! I had this thing once, with white chocolate and strawberries - it was really sweet. I loved it!

Odori:

There’s this delightful sour chicken dish I love - but it’s a lot of work to cook it for myself, and I don’t really know many other people who cook it. I should cook it again sometime soon.

Khusel:

M’not really sure what food I’d call my favourite. Did have this nice roll once - think it was young karakul meat.

Alatyr:

As a rule, I love the little speciality meals that small town inns have. They all have their own charm, and I love trying them all out! But if I had to choose a favourite, there’s one place by the sea that does great chopped and fried popotoes, served with some poultry - it’s a delight.

Blooming Arrowroot:

I… I guess I eat the same meal every week - it’s just some cuts of beef and some popotoes, though. I don’t really have enough experience with other foods to know if it’s a favourite or not.

Alha: Back home in Meracydia, m’ mates and I would cook up a nice camp bread. Was really nice - kinda miss it. Camp bread, some wild herbs. Good stuff.

Cemi'tan:

I always love eating a nice thick juicy steak - rare and with garlic-mint sauce. Best found at the Quicksand! Momodi does a nice cookup.

Cholla:

The more important part of any meal is the drink - and I like the cheapest, nastiest rotgut you can imagine. With that, a nice hard heel of bread, the kind of shite you can bludgeon a blighter to death with, and some watery stew.

R'hia:

Ain’t no meal more satisfying than one of my catches, butchered up and seared nicely on a grill! Nothin’ like it, and knowing all the work - mine and others’ - that went into it makes it taste all the better!

Sajati:

Curry from Mehryde's! Nothing beats it. None of the mild slop, either - I like the real murderous stuff.

Saldlona:

There’s these thinly sliced cuts of meat I like buying - I think the merchant calls them “minute steak”. They’re really quick to cook, and they go great with some popotoes.

Amis: -Amis stares silently at the asker in disbelief for thirty seconds before closing her door in their face-

Lihtbryda:

I remember, one year - there was a party at Costa del Sol for midsummer, and they served these lovely little flavoured ice sculptures. I can’t remember what they were called, but I had four and I’ve missed them ever since.

(Saltsong and Galdra are both omitted for not needing to eat)

Acras:

My favourite meal would have to be lovely little morsels in pretty clothes who squirm so nicely for me.

Amga:

-A shushing finger is raised as the asker is offered a rabbit, skewered on a stick and roasted over a fire-

Ceru:

I… I used to like…

…To like…

…I don’t remember. The Word won’t let me.

Taraine:

I’ve always enjoyed a nice onion soup - with lots of mutton added, cooked as rare as possible. Heavy on the salt, too.

Nehir:

Buckler Stew, cooked over a campfire, ideally eaten in Gyr Abania as the sun sets. “Savage food”, as I’ve often heard it called.

Reson:

…Boiled rabbit. Some root vegetables.

Kin:

I’m rather a fan of a particular type of udon! Made with tofu pockets of rice and sweeteners, it tastes really delightful - I highly advise it.

Orinitt:

Personally, I’m a fan of kebabs - ideally with a nice strong ale. Good spicy sauce.

Surya:

Honey-glazed ham, served over a bed of mashed popotoes, of course! Spiced wine, warmed to a nice temperature, as the drink.

Blaidd:

Given the choice, I prefer to eat deer - bloody and wriggling, still struggling and kicking its legs, still warm from the chase.

Thalassa:

Hm. I’d have to say sausage, with a sauce made from apple and onion. It’s quite nice, and really simple to cook.

Kolokasia:

Personally, I like sticking to a strictly vegetarian diet - tofus and beans and vegetables and suchlike. As such, my favourite meals are mostly salads and similar.

Nahla:

Favourite? Prob’ly harutsuge, nicely fried up. Rarity, though. Not many places still sell harutsuge.

Elucia: Why, mortals like you, of course, dear asker~

[theynanigans]

octopath traveler headcanon list #1 - cooking

welcome to my newest (and first!) series of shitposts where i rate the main characters from octopath traveler based on my strange headcanons purely because i am bored and i have no soul. enjoy! :D -- ophilia: i imagine she'd be pretty decent at cooking, and it does appear like she's willing to learn more about it, too! (judging by her interaction with h'aanit in that one travel banter) probably makes great soup!! very warm + shareable with the entire family party. the only (minor) problem is that her recipes most likely have the same amount of spices and salt in them as something you'd find on a mommy blog - and that means, they contain exactly 0 grams of each, which objectively isn't too bad... you just gotta be into it! -1 for admitting that she's unable to bake -3 for the very apparent lack of seasoning +1 for genuinely trying final score: 7/10 --  cyrus: objectively can't cook. not even when he's reading a cookbook. besides, he's got better things to do. don't bother him. -9 for being too busy with his studies to actually care about cooking +1 for apparently being a sandwich guy according to the octopath traveler café website -1 because his definition of sandwich is most likely something along the lines of "a few loose pieces of paper between two bread slices. maybe add a tomato if you're feeling adventurous." final score: 1/10 --  tressa: disqualified for using hired help +2 for probably having access to a lot of fun ingredients and utensils thanks to her profession?? -∞ for not even bothering to cook something by herself final score: nope/10 --  olberic: not too bad at cooking, i'd assume! i can imagine him making rather rustic, mostly meat, cheese and bread-based food with lots of carbs and proteins, which isn't the best if you're planning to go on a diet or only judging it by its taste, but a great source of energy for physical activities, such as dueling or just flexing in front of someone you adore... or despise. go get those muscles! :)) +0.5 for the strength boost +1 for probably having 1 or 2 recipes he's really good at -4 since it's most likely the best idea not to request anything other than those from him final score: 7.5/10 -- primrose: three words - hot and spicy. you won't be able to tell if your entire face feels like it is is on fire from looking at her or if the burning sensation is caused by what you just took a bite of. don't panic, also don't drink water. this is fine. +1 for the potential to pair up with ophilia and make magic happen +2.5 because mmmm spicy -7 because eating her food without a glass of milk nearby is best described as going to hell but with extra steps final score: 6.5/10 --  alfyn: due to his frequent chats with random strangers, it's safe to assume he has the most experience, general knowledge and recipes out of all the travelers and therefore a great advantage in this ranking! his expertise on herbs and plants comes in handy for cooking, too - and besides that, he'd likely enjoy preparing healthy snacks for everyone - the only downside being that he probably only does so for others and not for himself, so, y’know, just don't forget to give something back to him! +1 for making sure that his friends are feeling well +1 since he's probably the best at making vegetarian food -1 because at least half of his meals end up being some shade of green, and speaking from experience, it isn't wise to trust green food -1 for not taking enough care of himself :(( -1.5 for sometimes getting his cooking and potion ingredients mixed up final score: 8.5/10 --

therion: since there's so little information to base my assumptions on, this one's probably the most absurd headcanon out of all of these, but hear me out...

i believe he's actually very good at cooking?? firstly, he has fire magic and the kind of attitude it takes to start trying to use it for purposes other than fighting. (he might burn down the cooking site but you'll be thanking him for it) secondly, the octopath café website (yes, this is the second time i've used that as a source in spite of its obscurity. deal with it.) specifically states that, as a thief, he doesn't get many occasions to cook, but nothing along those lines gets mentioned for anyone else, despite the fact that you could say the same for all of them/their jobs (excluding h'aanit and maybe ophilia)??? like, there must be something more to that... and i've come to the conclusion that this is it... because it's wholesome as heck. good luck getting him to make something for you, though! +1 for doubtlessly being the underdog of this ranking -1 since your kitchen is somewhat unlikely to survive his cooking techniques -0.5 because there's no way he won't use at least one apple in every meal he will ever prepare -0.5 for exclusivity final score: 9/10 -- h'aanit: it's confirmed that she's a cooking goddess - and not only that - she can hunt, forage and cook. name something that's not perfect about that combination. i'll wait. +1 for being the best -1 for being too good final score: 10/10--

[lovelyisadora]

Ooh favourite/least favourite foods and/or spice tolerance of whichever characters u feel like abdhdbfjfn

it's literally like you're reading my mind how are you doing this anyway:

marcia: nothing is too spicy for her. literally, nothing. it can be made with the hottest pepper in the world and this woman will eat it like it's nothing. that said she's a picky eater. she detests chicken and the only sweet thing she'll eat is marzipan. she has a caffeine addiction and drinks her coffee black

septimus: look i love him, but this kid cannot tolerate anything hot. 0/10. if it's over salted, it's too much for him. but other than that he'll eat anything, so he doesn't have a least favorite food. his favorite food is aunt zelda's cabbage and eel sandwiches and he has a major sweet tooth

jenna: she can handle a little spice. she doesnt have much of a sweet tooth but she wont say no to dessert. nothing is better to her than the smell of freshly baked bread and she really likes stuffed peppers.

beetle: am i allowed to say his favorite foods are bibimbap and fizzfroot. his sweet tooth is the only one that rivals septimus's, and this boy can definitely handle the heat

nicko: for some reason? i think that nicko really likes pickled vegetables?? it makes sense with a life at sea idk. he also hates chicken and like septimus and silas, cannot tolerate anything hot

silas: see above and also, he really likes hearty meals, like meat and potatoes, ya know? living in the palace is nice because he no longer has to forgo a meal or two just to make sure all his kids can eat

simon: he can handle a little spice. there's a cafe by the riverbank with the best kebabs that he and lucy cant stop raving about

[scabopolis]

lv au week, day 3: fairy tales

Title: parry on Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG  Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: An animal that is 100% based on one of my mom’s felines Additional Tags: Absolutely inspired by Tangled, though I do not give Logan luscious magical hair (SPOILER!) Things I googled for this fic: antique jewelry box, what to feed cats in the 1800s, fencing footwork drills Word Count: ~1,950 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. 

Logan goes through the motions and repeats them, increasing his speed each time. “Again,” he says to himself. 

Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard. Jump forward. Advance lunge. On guard.

Again, and again, and again until his chest is tight with exertion and he is barely capable of lifting his makeshift sword up above his hip line. It is only then he ceases movement. 

Logan drops his weapon to the floor and hinges at the waist, taking deep, slow breaths. He is unsure how long he remains in that position before his cat, a rotund tortoiseshell who simply showed up in his keep one day, winds itself around his ankles. 

Lady Richard looks up at him and lets out a cross between a whimper and a meow. Logan reaches down and scratches the cat behind its ears. 

“Ah, I know what you want.” 

Lady Richard meows again, even more pathetically.

Post-workout, Logan’s sabre has returned to its true form and is a wooden spoon once more. He kicks it out of the way and makes for his small kitchen. His father’s man visited him the day prior (“your father wished to come, truly”) so his larder basket is more than full. 

Once Lady Richard appeared, his father was surprisingly amenable to Logan’s keeping her. Apparently his father did not consider a cat scaling the unsteady ivy outside his window a threat. 

Logan unpacks the cat collops from the larder basket and sinks to the stone floor. Lady Richard invites himself into Logan’s lap.  

“Father approved entrails this week.” Logan scratches Lady Richard under the chin, feeding him the meat pieces from his hand. “He must be in a good mood.”

Once Lady Richard is finished with her meal, she bounces from Logan’s lap and moves over to her favorite cushion of the burnt orange sofa in the corner of the room. Logan reupholstered the sofa himself but, seeing as it was a decision made primarily to irritate his father, he deeply regrets the choice of fabric.

Logan sets himself to preparing his own meal, removing bread, cheese, and some salted meat from the larder basket. He takes a jar of the fig jam he made the previous week down from the kitchen shelf. This batch is considerably better than the past few he has attempted, though it is still not quite right. If only he could ask Lettie, the palace cook, for her advice. On Logan’s more optimistic days, he believes he will one day have the chance to. 

He pours himself a large glass of mead, sinks back down to the floor with food and drink in hand, and then waits. For what, he is never certain. But he has been waiting for something to transpire the more than three years he has lived in this tower. The day Logan stops finding something to hope for will be the day he takes a flying leap from the tower. 

Some hours later (it is hard to say how many — his father did not think a clock necessary for his survival) Logan wakes with a start, laying upon the cold stone floor of the kitchen. He notices the bright light spilling in through the tower window, illuminating most of the room. It must be a full moon. 

At first uncertain as to what caused him to stir, he registers the distinct rustling of ivy outside the tower window. He assumes Lady Richard to be the culprit but that is not possible as the cat is tucked behind Logan’s knees, fast asleep. The rustling persists. 

Logan pushes himself to a seated position (Lady Richard meows in displeasure) and moves to crouch behind the large floral chair that once belonged to his mother. He reasons with himself that it is likely just another cat; possibly a squirrel of some sort. But then there is the darker possibility that his father has determined keeping him alive and hidden is no longer worth the trouble. 

The rustling is even louder now, but it is the sound of metal hitting stone that has all his attention. Logan moves from where he crouches into the kitchen in search of a weapon. Father has left him without knives of any sort, so he settles on the heavy cast iron pan, still soiled with the remnants of breakfast. Rather than return to his original hiding spot, Logan moves on bare feet to the book shelf nearest the window. This position unfortunately obscures his view of the tower window. 

He listens to the repetitive movements outside; metal hitting stone again and again. Eventually the sound stops and Logan is startled by how calm he feels. His father has always been mercurial — it was only a matter of time before he decided a dead prince was preferable to a hidden one. 

The assassin grunts as they first swing one leg and then the other over the window ledge; their heavy boots hitting the stone. They don’t seem concerned with keeping quiet, which is strange. Rather than head immediately for the stairs, and thus his room, the assassin sounds as if they are moving towards the main room. 

“What is this place?”

Logan freezes in place at the assassin’s quiet voice. A woman? He was not expecting a woman. She moves further into the room, her back to Logan. He especially did not expect a woman who appears to be a foot shorter than him. The woman continues her exploration of the tower, her head turning this way and that, when her eyes settle on the engraved silver jewelry box set upon the fireplace mantle. He watches as she picks up the jewelry box, inspects it for a moment, and then tucks it into her satchel. She helps herself also to a pair of candlesticks and his pocket compass. 

Not quite an assassin, then.

Lady Richard makes herself known by flopping backwards onto the thief’s boot, feet up in the air in invitation. The thief laughs quietly and leans down to scratch the cat’s stomach. “You’re a well-fed thing,” she says. “Where is your owner?” 

And Logan would much rather take someone by surprise than be surprised, so he seizes that moment to step out of the shadow. 

“Right here,” he says. 

In one quick action, the woman reels around to face Logan, a knife he was unaware she wielded clutched tight in her hand. Logan holds up the frying pan. It distracts her for a moment, but only just.  

“Who are you?” the woman asks. 

“Who are you?” 

“I believe I asked first.” 

“You are the intruder, which I think places the burden of answering questions firmly upon your shoulders.”

“You live here?” 

“Clearly. Shall I repeat my original question: who are you?” 

She hesitates. “My horse threw me off a few miles from here. I was looking for assistance.” 

“Is that so?”

“You do not believe me?” 

“I do not. But I also do not believe you are here to kill me, so that is something.” 

“Why would I kill you?” 

“Why, indeed.”

“I suppose you saw me steal your jewelry box.” 

“I did. The candlesticks, too.” 

“And you are okay with this?” 

“No, and I do expect their return, but you have bigger concerns.” 

“What concerns?” 

“Successfully leaving this place alive, for one.” 

The woman tenses and she takes a step back. Lady Richard follows, batting at the thief’s boot. “You intend to kill me.” 

“No. I do not. But I am afraid you stormed the wrong tower.” 

She narrows her eyes. “Who are you, exactly?” 

This evening, when Logan sat on that cold stone floor to eat his supper, he had no way of knowing what he was waiting for. Seeing this woman now — this woman who boldly brandishes a knife at him and speaks without fear while so clearly being in the wrong — he makes a decision. 

“Perhaps you should look at that jewelry box once more.” 

The woman manages to fish out the silver box while still keeping the knife steady and directed at Logan. The top of the box is engraved with a scene of a pond and the requisite flora surrounding it. There’s no way for this woman to know the etching is a perfect rendering of the large pond on the palace grounds. 

It is the name engraved upon the box which can hardly escape her notice: Her Majesty, The Queen, Lynette II

“You are a thief, as well?” she asks, though she sounds doubtful. 

“I am not.” 

“Then how—?”

“The queen is—,” he clears his throat, “—was quite dear to me.”

“How did you know the queen?” 

Logan remains silent. 

Her eyes return to the box, her thumb tracing over the engraving. She looks back up at him and, perhaps it is the remnants of a long-faded instinct, but Logan draws himself up straight for her inspection. That is when his identity appears to be clear to her. 

“It cannot—,” she begins, haltingly. He nods. “Are you the lost prince?”

Logan sighs and lowers the frying pan. Lady Richard accepts it as an invitation and comes over to lick bacon grease from the cast iron. “The lost prince? Is that what they call me?” 

“Most of the kingdom believes you dead. Your father increases the reward for your return each year.” 

He laughs. “I am sorry, but all my return would garner you is your death.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Because your good king, my father, does not want me to be found as he is the one who entrapped me here.”

She loses her grip on the jewelry box, but manages to recover the object. Her knife, on the other hand, clatters to the ground. She does not pick it up.

“Is this true?”

“What is more, I believe as soon as my step-mother produces an heir, I will truly be expendable.” 

“Why tell me this?”

Logan twirls the frying pan in his hand and sends spatters of cooled bacon grease flying. “As I see it we have two options and limited time to decide: one, you leave me here, and you worry that one of my father’s spies has witnessed your departure and will thus murder you.” 

“Option two?” 

“Option two is far less likely to succeed.” 

He pauses for dramatic effect and she rolls her eyes. “Do go on.”

“Option two, you help me escape, I take my rightful place as ruler, and you will earn far more than any reward my father could offer.”

“What makes you think I can help you?” 

“Something tells me a woman who just happened to have the means to scale a 60 foot tower in her satchel has the means to do much more.” 

This is already more fun than Logan has had in close to a decade. 

“What should I call you?” she asks. “Because I refuse to call you highness.” 

“Logan will do. Shall I call you thief?” 

She picks up her knife, sheathes it, and extends her hand. He grips hers in return and is overcome by the fact it has been years since he has touched another person. 

“Veronica. Mars. And I prefer the term master thief.” Veronica looks down at Lady Richard as she intently licks a spot of grease off her boot. “The cat?” 

“The cat comes. Her name is Lady Richard.” 

“What say you, Lady Richard,” Veronica says, “ready for an adventure?”

[mochees]

"𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰"

-> headcanons, they do be gettin domestic out here huh 

characters: daichi, sugawara, asahi, bokuto x gn!reader

warnings: SFW & slight NSFW gender-neutral headcannons

wc: 1.2K

a/n: my second ever fan material is dedicated to vanessa and valerie i love u both thank u for being my personal hypewomen this is for u, a little POUR of domesticity <3

Daichi Sawamura

housework is generally split 50/50, but when one of you has had a long day more often than not the other will do more to make it 75/25

is an AMAZING chef

you cant fight me on this he's a whiz in the kitchen

you take turns setting up date night and one of his favourite things to do for you is cook

on weekends he sleeps in and you use it as time to make him breakfast and work on your cooking skills but as soon as he smells it or hears you hes up and on you

he'll stand behind you and wrap himself around you trying to help or guide you in any way he can while simultaneously kissing your head and telling you how much he loves you serving as more of a distraction than praise

after breakfast he'll INSIST on doing the dishes so you have to settle for helping each other before it turns into an all out WAR

avid pet name user likes to call you: honey, sweetie, love, babycakes, and babe

grocery shopping? COUPLES ACTIVITY

BUT ALSO A RACE/COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN GET THE PRODUCE AND MEAT/DAIRY THE FASTEST

when everythings been done in the house or you're both just tired he'll lay down on the couch and pull you down with him and you could stay in his arms like that for literal hours especially when he puts a blanket on the two of you and a movie's playing or even if you just straight up nap together 🥺🥺🥺

full on hot and heavy make out sessions

like literally anywhere

this man LOVES you

common knowledge at this point that daichi sawamura is a dom and a kinky MF

is open to trying anything in the bedroom before he makes a final decision

but is also very concerned about your comfort and consent!!! safe respectful sex people !!!!

gives strong dog lover vibes, probably would want to get a big dog with you something like a dalmation, retriever/lab, or german shephard

would absolutely LOVE that dog and you would have to fight the dog over your man before you lose him forever

Asahi Azumane

lisTEN UP Y'ALL CAUSE THIS IS IT the beat that im bangin is delicious 🤪

this MF is SOFT for you

like we already been knew hes a big teddy bear but this man? this man STARES at you 24/7 in absolute AWE

he goddamn LOVES YOU

would probably have proposed like no sooner than a year into your relationship (if marriage is ur thing if not NICE yall cool AF LIVE THAT NO GOVERNMENT INVOLVED LIFESTYLE)

anyway, when you go grocery shopping he will not let you carry any heavy bags. you can carry the bread and like maybe a bag of potatoes but thats it.

also loves to cook for you

hes no whiz in the kitchen but god damn he puts his heart and SOUL into cooking for you

but he loves it when you cook for him because "anything you make is amazing sweetheart"

doesn't use a variety of petnames especially baby and babe because he feels they're too objectifying so he only really uses sweetheart and love

unless you're in the bedroom, then baby and babe are free real estate.

is shy at first but after a few times knows EXACTLY how to treat you RIGHT

definitely wants kids probably 2, MAYBE 3

ideally wants a boy and a girl but oh boy, if he had two girls, spoiled little babies, daddys girls

this man he drinks tea. real men drink TEA.

hes got that earl grey with two teaspoons of sugar vibe goin on

you have multiple TV shows on the go together and you love to sit down at the end of the day or on a free weekend and just straight up BINGE until your eyelids are heavy

afterwards you'll cuddle in bed and fall asleep within minutes and just hold each other all night 🥺🥺🥺

Koushi Sugawara

he BABIES you

like not in a "i view you as incompetent" way but in a just genuine love and affection "my s/o is baby" way

like Asahi, he watches you in awe like you're a newborn baby just developing motor and speech skills

cooking is like a split evenly thing and u both love it just as much when you cook for each other so its not really a huge part of your romance

HOWEVER food COULD be part of your romance ;)

im talking like whipcream maybe some body shots ;) who knows! not you! suga is like johzenji in bed! crazy and a little confused he's unpredictable!

anywho, also enjoys the mundane things like grocery shopping what else do adults do i dont know im only in twelfth grade and i still sleep in until 11

pet names!!! uses!! pet names!!!!! LOVES pet names!!!! honey, sweetheart, love, he likes the more affectionate, mushy ones

although if other guys are flirting with u and he gets jealous he will NOT hesitate to call u babe/baby in front of them

you call him sugar. if you don't you're lying.

he's not super built like some of the other guys but he does still have a bit of muscle obvi, and the best part is because hes not super built he SQUISHY

SO HIS CUDDLES ARE JEJEJEWJ THE BEST

likes to go on walks together as frequently as you can, weather not really dependant and he WILL hold your hand and he WILL kiss it

if its really hot that day on your walk he'll buy you icecream and if its colder probably hot chocolate, or coffee or something

idk why but,,, i feel like he gives the best massages?? like maybe its because he's a setter and he's got those good hands ;) but just,,, i need a suga back rub :((((

Koutarou Bokuto

bokuto drinks his RESPECT MY S/O JUICE DAILY

is BAD AT COOKING DO NOT LET HIM IN THE KITCHEN

your cast iron frying pan will CHIP

he will confuse salt and sugar and probably flour and icing sugar

so just either bokuto-proof your kitchen or put a goddamn steel door with a retinal scanner

suspiciously good at cleaning

like everytime you see him clean your face visibly makes a ???

because this man has approximately no braincells???

what the fuck is he??? a male cinderella????

BUT u dont complain when he does

1, because it helps evenly divide the basic domestic needs of eating and cleaning

and 2, he likes to clean with his shirt off

he does, he likes to make you drool over him, he KNOWS you see him and he will PURPOSELY flex his muscles just to make u squirm

is fucking kinky but you didn't hear that from me

DATE NIGHT DATE NIGHT DATE NIGHT

THRIVES OFF OF DATE NIGHT

LOVES TO HOLD YOUR HAND AND SQUISH YOU AND KISS YOU AND MAKE SURE EVERYONE KNOWS YOU'RE HIS S/O

DOESN'T CARE WHERE YOU GO AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T HAVE TO LET GO OF YOU

AVID baby/babe user

will use love, honey, sweetheart when its soft bokuto hours

babydoll? ah fuck, its free real estate for bokuto the property investor!

this man, this man who drinks his RESPECT juice every day is HEAD OVER HEELS for you

he WORSHIPS you

its definitely also a body worship kink

previous | next masterlist

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

© surrealsakura, 2020

do not repost, copy, or claim.

[welcometohetaliahell]

Their scents/natural smell

*just an f.y.i these are all my personal headcanons and I chose to describe them versus using a couple of words for no reason other than I wanted to. Also, there are characters like Sealand, Seychelles, Liechtenstein, and Moldova missing because in my mind they are babies and it would just be weird for me. 

The America’s 

America: His scent changes depending on where he’s coming from in the U.S., one day he could have of a pine tree scent, to him or motor oil, but generally his cologne is very metallic but underneath that is Evergreen mixed with a faint scent of gunpowder.  

Canada: This may seem stereotypical, but he smells sweet, like sugary donut pancake sweet, but that’s mixed with that crisp, fresh, winter air that comes like a week after it snows, thick, rich wood, and coffee. 

Mexico: Her scent changes based on the seasons, or in general the time of year. During the fall/winter months for the U.S. (September to March) her scent is very subtle and maybe a little dry, not like dusty, but she just smells clean and plain. But during the warmer months is when her scent can be a little overbearing. It’s hot and salty because of the heat but very fruity and sweet, it doesn’t come off as a perfume but rather like she’s eaten a bunch of fruits in one go or had been picking them. 

Cuba: He overwhelmingly smells like motor oil, but not in a bad way, like it’s mixed with sweat because I think in some ways he’s had to learn to love fixing up old cars because of his countries situation. But it’s also mixed with salt water and sand with just a hint of cigar smoke underneath. 

Europe

Britain: Britain’s changes based on the weather. If it’s raining that is the main scent with a mix of smog and motor oil. But if it’s just overcast he still smells like dim weather because it’s so common, but it’s mixed with pipe-smoke, or canon smoke, and old books.

France: This man smell’s like roses like he just does. But he doesn’t smell like the same rose, there’s always something different that may hint at specific color or type of rose, hell maybe where it was grown. He also smells like cheese, which is weird I know, but like really good cheese that when you smell it you just want a cracker with maybe a piece of ham or something and gobble it up. But underneath all that is like old grime, like old metal building grime, and sweat mainly from around the time of the industrialization of Europe and America i.e. the building of the Eifel Tower and the Statue of Liberty. 

Russia: Now like Canada he also smells like winter, but he smells like that impending snowstorm, cold winter weather that almost leaves a taste in your mouth though he burns like a furnace. I also think he smells like old brick or masonry in general. Like an old brick building that hasn’t had a fire blazing inside in a very long time.

Germany: While I want to say he smells like a beer, which he does, but that’s not his main scent. He mainly smells like the top lining on a drum kit, not the old animal hides they used to use, that has gone through a few 6+ hour long practices with a broken stick or two. Now underneath that is the beer smell, but it’s mixed with sweat and motor oil but not only does he like working out he also likes working, mainly on cars, but every once in a while a hint of wood or fire will come through.

Italy: This boy smells like a chefs kitchen, a mix of a lot of things that sometimes makes your nose itch and you wonder what the hell is cooking. But he also smells like oil paint and canvas and marble because like Germany he likes to create, just more Bob Ross and less Rudolf Diesel. 

Southern Italy: This boy like a vineyard, and I know you’ll be asking why Italy or France don’t smell like that, and idk but this boy smells like he spends every morning standing in the middle of the vineyard where the wind can pass right through him and that’s his cologne. But he also smells like shoe polish and fresh, baked bread. 

Spain: This man smells like a lot of various things and changes constantly. The most prominent thing he smells like is seafood, like battered and fried seafood with an undertone of salt. But other times he’ll smell very sweet still with that undertone of salt. 

Scotland: This man smells old, but not like the same old that China smells, but more like a castle – masonry old. And he obviously smells like smoke/nicotine because he smokes but it’s not seeped into his clothes its right around his head/neck area and everywhere else just smells like old linen. Like something you haven’t worn in a few months that’s been hanging in your closet clean but maybe you should’ve shaken it before you put it on. 

Poland: So, if you catch him when he wakes up in between showers he’ll smell spicy actually with like an undertone of rugged wilderness, like plain grass and wheat, and water. But he really likes the flowery smells of perfume so he’ll wear those a lot though he is conscious of the impact it can have on other people, so he never wears too much and he tries to go for the more shuttle scents like flowers over things like cotton candy or berry because those are really pungent.  

Lithuanian: He smells like the woods, like dead-ass middle of nowhere moss covering everything woods mixed with fresh water and sometimes things like berries with a rugged undertone of dirt and evergreen that was pushed into his scent all the time's wolves would just tackle and love all over him. During the winter his scent can get very stuffy and plain, like what happens to a house when it’s being lived in but not, yet it’s surrounded by the cold. 

Latvia: This is gonna sound odd, but he smells like ham, potatoes, and alcohol. Like most of the time, he smells very plain and nothing really sticks out so sometimes he’ll wear cologne but when it’s colder out and he’s stuck inside and everything he smells like ham, potatoes, and alcohol. 

Estonia: This man smells like an office/server room. It’s really clean but cold with a metallic undertone. But he also smells really fresh after he’s left the office and showered – like fresh berries and other fruits. Sometimes he’ll smell more like potatoes and meat but that’s mostly when in the winter when the fresh fruits and all can’t be picked. There are also some earthy undertones to his scent that come out during the winter.

Austria: He smells like old sheet music, or just like old paper in general. That kinda dusty but intriguing smell you get from a really old document or book. There’s also a layer of coffee, fried bread, and evergreen. He sometimes wear a sharp cologne if he’s going out or something and he doesn’t use any super flowery shampoo or anything in the shower so most of the time he smells like old books and food – might made you hungry. 

Switzerland: He can also sometimes smell like cheese, but again the good kind of cheese that you wanna eat. But he also smells like really clean, crisp water with an undertone on evergreen and metal. He’ll sometimes smell sweet and other times he’ll smell like beer but those come out depending on what he’s eaten or whenever he showered last. 

Netherlands: This man is a blend of tulips, chocolate, and pipe smoke. On is always more dominant than the either and kinda gives away his mood. Sometimes he’ll have a woody-fury undertone to him from the time he's spent outside with rabbits. The heavy smoke smell typically gives away that he’s stressed or maybe even mad. The chocolate says that he’s been with his sister and could be in a good mood if it was just them, but it can also be a sign that he’s trying to relax and it’s not working. The tulip smell says that he’s suuuuuper happy and relaxed and that you could go and talk to him and he's chill. Mostly on the weekends. 

Belgium: She smells like chocolate, chocolate, and flowers but with undertones of a vegetable garden and fresh air. She doesn’t really wear any perfume and doesn’t use super pungent shampoos and lotions. She mostly smells sweet but occasionally there will be this metallic, salty sea air undertone that comes out especially when she’s sweating that’ll remind that his women will kick your ass if she needs to.

Belarus: She smells very metallic but also sweet, like sucker sweet with while you have a tongue or lip piercing. Her cold undertone is the cold air that you breathe in super deep to fill your lung and try to relax, maybe the kinda cold that fills you before you start running outside or hiking. 

Ukraine: She smells like wheat, but not like gross wheat but like the standing in the middle of the field kinda wheat smell that is where you’d wanna take a super aesthetic photo those it’s kinda itchy as hell. She also smells like flower, as in cooking flower, because I picture her as liking to bake and yeah. Her undertone is cold, but like the cold of seeing your breath, the also sweet cold that doesn’t hurt at first but if you stay out in it you’ll nose will hurt.

Nordics

Iceland: Because he is an island with volcano’s he smells like molten rock mixed with cold seawater but with an undertone of grass. It’s very inviting and warm to smell, no sulfur unless there was a recent eruption and then he reeks of it but also sweats and he’s in a lot of pain and a cloud of smoke almost lingers around him until everything is calmed down. 

Norway: This man smells like Evergreen/Pine trees and cold water with clean linens that weren’t washed with anything scented. But he can smell like chocolate, beer, and pancake mix with just a hint of pipe-smoke. (*this is coming from personal experience in Norway and this is what I remember smelling*)

Finland: I wanna say he smells like Christmas, but he’s Finland and so his Christmas is different from mine, but I will say it’s a good bet that he smells like sugar cookies and maybe wrapping paper, like that smell that lingers after you’ve cut it a bunch in the same room. Like Russia, Norway, Canada, and the rest of the colder nations he too smells cold, but he smells like snow cold, like a gentle flurry that you’d take aesthetic photos in kinda snow. But I think he has undertones of gunpowder and metal.

Denmark: This man smells like a bonfire, and I don’t really know why, but he smells like a bonfire mixed with sea water and fresh brew booze. It’s very welcoming and it almost gives you energy and makes you want to stay there a socialize with him and maybe drink and cause some trouble but that’s your decision. Unless it’s the dead of winter he doesn’t smell as cold as say Russia or Canada, but if there’s a bad storm that bonfire smell with mix well with the cold and will make you want to curl up and nap with him. 

Sweden: This man smells like a wood workshop, sometimes he smells like more fresh cut wood and others he smells like wood sealer and sawdust. Again, like the others, he smells like the cold but it’s not a pungent as some of the others like you’d have to be hugging him for a while to notice it versus Russia where you’d immediately notice it especially during winter. There are some undertones of sea water and motor oil/exhaust but like the cold, you’ll have to be hugging him to notice or he just took a shower and then those are more present. 

Asia 

China: So like Scotland, he smells old but a different kind of old, like old wood and paper. Liked like a house that hasn’t had anyone in it for a long time but it’s not rotting or anything. But on a bad day, i.e. bad weather and such, he heavily smells like smog and he desperately tries to cover it up if he gets out of bed and has to leave the house. But he tries to purposely smell clean like fresh linen’s just washed or a sparkling clean house though in his young years i.e. Silk Road and all he heavily began to smell like opium. But he always has an undertone of warm tea. 

Japan: This man smells like ink mixed with paper, and it shows on the tips of his fingers. This mainly comes from the hours he spends reading and writing various mangas and stories. But he also smells like pillow packing feathers, you know that ones that’ll stab from the inside of the pillow lining but smell great and are super fluffy. There’s also so undertones of fire embers and cats.

South Korea: His smell changes like some of the others, but its equally based on where he is and the weather. If he’s coming from Seoul he can smell like a busy street and a blend of people but if it’s raining it turns into motor oil and maybe a warm bowl of ramen. If he’s coming from somewhere like Daegu or Busan he may smell more like street food or more like the water. 

India: This man smells like spice, which does seem stereotypical, but he also smells like rain and really rich tea. But it’s all brought together with a really clean, linen smell with just hint of metallic undertones. His smell is also really bright and even fruity almost or flowery with undertones of like massage oil or something. 

Ottoman Family

Turkey: This man smells like olive oil, I know kinda weird, but the trees grow abundantly in the western part of the country and its used in the food. But she also can sometimes smell like fish but also sometimes just smell like the water, it kinda depends on what he eats and the weather. He has a smoke and sweetness undertone – like chocolate and maybe opium(?). He’ll also sometimes smell like mud and sweat but again it depends on the time of year and what he’s been doing. 

Greece: I’m gonna say it, this man smells like cats but not like cat shit or litter, just cats. That soft, fluffy, warm feeling you have when you first interact with a cat before you realize how weird they kinda smell. But he too smells old in a way, but his old smell is like colosseum old smell – marble, stone, a bit dusty but doesn’t irritate your nose. Like it’s not dirty, just it’s been here for a while kinda old. There’s also a big undertone of sea water and linen but like none processed linen so like it’s being made into something linen not ‘oh this is a shirt or sheet’ kinda linen.

Egypt: Another one that smells old but this old can be the kind that irritates your nose because his old is the old of a place that was sealed away and not messed with for a long time for good reason kinda old. But he also smells like fruit and vegetables, nothing specific but like he smells fresh and natural (?) with a mix of fresh water. 

Hungary: She smells like metal, shiny, heavy metal mixed with dirt and sweat because she’s a badass woman who fought but also, mainly because of her time with turkey, she smells a bit like hay, spice, and smoke. Though all of his doesn’t come out unless she’s either a) working out or b) just woke up because she likes to uses a lot of flower-scented products but doesn’t wear perfume. 

Other

Prussia: He smells more like beer than his brother but like Hungary, he has an old metal and grime smell to him from years of fighting and wearing armor. He also smells like paper because for a long time, especially with Fitz, he played music and when he could sleep he would study it but also it’s from all his writing and home many times he’s sat down a read over his journals. I also think he probably smells slightly like smoke but no particular scent to it like bonfire or nicotine, he just sometimes smells like smoke. 

Australia: This man is a bit all over the place. Mainly he smells a bit dry or clay-like, but it’ll mix with salt water and sand and sometimes it’ll turn really muddy and wet. I could compare it to a wet dog smell but its not gross he just very much resembles his environment and so it changes but in general his smell can be relaxing if you’re asking for a hug but if he throws his arm around smiling really wide that smell will likely give away the fact that he’s gonna drag you off to do something adventurous and potentially dangerous. 

New Zealand: They smell like grass, but not like fresh cut grass or brittle dying grass, just tall, thick, plain grass with a mix of saltwater air and mountain top cold, but this last one changes depending on where they are because they could also smell a bit dry/sandy. They also smell sweet, but not like chocolate or sugar sweet, just sweet like you a few houses down from a bakery kinda sweet. 

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Tokyo Treat May 19

Hello, welcome to our next review :3 today we’ll be looking at the May Tokyo Treat. I’m going to point out now that i was a little disgruntled by some details in this specific box- but I will still fairly access everything as usual.

(You probably recognize the DIY item there, I won’t be reviewing it because I already have, and have gotten it numerous times since <_<)

“We’re so excited for you to try this month’s mixture of snacks. Doesn’t the crisp air and budding springtime flowers make you just want to devour some juicy fruit and enjoy their sweet flavors? You’re in luck, because this month we’ve got some yummy fruity flavors in a variety of sweet treats! We’ve also got some delicious savory snacks in store for you! Are you ready? We can’t wait for you to enjoy this months Tutti Fruity box!“

Lucky Treat

This month, the Lucky Treat is full of adorable Rilakkuma goods ranging from cuddly to practical school and kitchen items, many of which feature Rilakkuma hanging out with his friends and visiting various places. 

May Prize

Meanwhile, the contest is all about Gudetama, featuring two plush for the grand prize winner, and Gudetama cookies for the runner-ups.

--------

Fanta Banana Yogurt Mix

Our first item (see pic on top) is the Banana Yogurt Fanta we were supposed to get in the previous box, but due to the “exciting release“ of the Sakura-flavored cola, it was pushed back to this box. Which isn’t bad since it still fits with the theme of this box. Made from healthy banana and nutrients, this is a carbonated drink at only 34kcal, making it a great choice for those seeking less-calorie intake.

Rating: ♥ 

Honestly I didn’t even want to give it that heart. I’ve said this several times but I’ll say it again if you might be new, I don’t like bananas, and I especially HATE the taste of artificial banana! I tasted no sort of creamy yogurtness or vanilla or anything else except banana. My parents loved the drink meanwhile, so I let them share it.

BUT in saying that, if you like bananas/artificial banana, you will probably really like this. Even though I disliked it, I never spit out the portion I tried and didn’t think I would throw up (like that takoyaki nightmare from a few boxes ago). So it earned 1 heart for at least not making me hate bananas even more.

Caramel Corn Puffs

I decided to start with this because I’ve had it numerous times and didn’t feel like I needed to entirely review it. The Tohato Caramel Corn is a popular brand that we’ve encountered many times, not only in the original/regular flavor, but in a variety of others.

This time we are receiving the original in “share pack“ form, each bag/10 grams being 56kcal.

These are delicious, lightly crisp caramel-flavored puffs. They are pretty sweet though so unless you have a sweet-tooth, you might find them cloying after a while. They make all sorts of unique sweet flavors, from fruity to desserts like tiramisu and ice cream. I would recommend them and they’re pretty easy to find online.

Curry-flavor Crispy Flakes & Salt and Wasabi Chips

Another item I won’t really be reviewing are these little ramen noodle crispy flakes flavored after curry. Besides snacking on them, they can also be used to top udon or other noodle dishes.

I’m not reviewing this because this is also another item I’ve had a few times- but in comparison to caramel corn, I don’t actually like this one. They have a nice crunchiness and the flavor is strong, but that was why I didn’t like them, I wasn’t into the flavor. This was another item I gave my mom.

-----

Meanwhile, we also have a bag of salt and wasabi chips by Calbee. Now, originally we were supposed to get the Pizza Mayo Mentaiko flavored chips, but due to regulations in meat substances being shipped, it had to be replaced last-second, so we either got the Wasabi chips or the lightly salted.

I was a little disappointed by the change, but at least they were giving us another Calbee brand chip to replace it. These chips (which I have no info on due to the late change not reflected in the book) have a total of 305kcal per-bag.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  

I usually love these chips, but this one I was a little mixed with opinions because I only like wasabi in extremely small doses sometimes. The flavor is pretty strong and bold, and they get spicy the more you eat, and if you love wasabi I’m sure you would really like these. I can’t say they’re my favorite of the brand, but the crunch is great and they still taste good. You also get a lot of foldy chips (the ones that resemble fortune cookies or wontons), which are my favorites~

Also, I discovered they go good with cream cheese :P my favorite sushi is a Philadelphia roll, which is what gave me the idea to try it.

Matcha Chocolate Corn Puffs & Strawberry Rusk

Following those are two more items I have tried before- so I won’t be reviewing them either (I’m sorry but I don’t see the point in writing the same thing, and essentially I’m still reviewing the item...). First are the Matcha Chocolate puffs by Ginbis, a brand known for their delicious star-shaped corn puffs with chocolate baked into them. This specific flavor is a limited edition, so it’s not always available. Each bag is 321kcal.

So... this is pretty much like the banana drink. I hate green tea and these have no sweetness at all. But the texture is a smooth crispiness which I do like, so I usually like this brands products. If you like green tea you’ll probably love these.

-------

Our other item is a strawberry chocolate coated rusk (rusk are baked bread pieces coated in glaze and/or sugar) from Ginza Rusk. These are sweet little biscuits embedded entirely with the strawberry flavor, and each pack is 208kcal; something I find a little unappealing about them when you compare the amount to some of the other items <3<

They’re a light crunch and taste pretty good, but I’m usually not a big fan of these rusk snacks. This one I found more tolerable then usual though; maybe they’re starting to grow on me.

Chobo Chobo Cookies & Sakura Japanese Sake KitKat.

These little baked, puffy cookies are made from a traditional recipe and are known for melting in ones mouth. Their bags feature all sorts of adorable little character variations, and each bag is 62kcal.

Rating: ♥ ♥

I don’t know what they put in these but they aren’t my most favorite thing. They remind me a lot of something I don’t like, but I haven’t had said thing in a really long time so I don’t remember what it was...

All things considered they do melt in your mouth though.

-----

Next is another unique KitKat, featuring the fresh sakura (cherries) and Japanese sake (alcohol). These are limited edition and out in time to celebrate Hanami (cherry blossom viewing). You get 12 mini-sets per usual, and each one is 63kcal.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

They have a lovely pink color (its my favorite shade in fact) and as soon as you eat them you taste the sake and a perfumey cherry- it reminds me of a fresh powdery bath product from Avon. But as strange as that is, I actually kinda like it. I’m not sure if they put alcohol in these, but I’m assuming they might soak the wafer in it or something.

New Mochitaro Puffs & Sugar Rusk Umaibo

These are our last crunchy snacks presented in this months box. First is the Mochitaro Puffs, which are small, bite-sized crispy snacks. I couldn’t find the calories on this, and these are basic salted. 

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

There isn’t too much flavor in these compared to the other snacks in the box, but the saltiness is noticeable, without being too intense. I kind of like how they aren’t as bold as the other snacks though, it’s a nice change of pace. They sort of remind me of the regular/plain Bugles.

------

We also have our monthly Umaibo; this time in a sweet sugary rusk flavor. It has a buttery sweetness in scent, and each stick is 43kcal. If you’re interested in trying Umaibo, they’re super-easy to find online; I’d recommend them but they can become Addictive!

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

In terms of favorites, it doesn’t make my top 3- but it would probably make my top 10. It’s really good, it reminds me of buttery pretzel sticks, I would recommend it if you want something crispy and sweet.

Strawberry Lollipop & Strawberry Mochi

I love strawberries, so I was overall happy to see a few strawberry items in this box- even if I’m not hugely into rusk. First up we have a basic strawberry lollipop with a Hello Kitty package. There are multiple packages, each with a cute little game on the back, like for example mine has a “find the matching flower“ game. Each lollipop is 22.8kcal.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Tastes like typical Japanese strawberry candy, which is a little different than American strawberry candy in most cases. It’s not a realistic flavor, but I really like it. I swear I get a little hint of watermelon or peach in it too.

------

Our next item is an actual Mochi :3 these are very rare in this box, I can’t recall if we ever had t before or not... but I do like mochi. It’s become pretty popular where I live as of late, especially ice cream ones, but I think I prefer the basic snacking ones more.

With this little pack you get two, adorable baby mochi~ I couldn’t find calories on them either. But as you can see in the pick, each one has a marshmallow-like inside with strawberry cream or jelly in the middle.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Dissecting it, you don’t get much flavor or taste but its very soft, and just a little sweet. They’re also fun to squeeze and play with, and when you eat it entirely (careful so you don’t choke though >x<) you get a bit of flavor. I can’t say I strongly taste anything but I like it.

Cherry Mochi

If you’ve read my blog before then you might recognize this, this is an alternate Mochi treat and we have had these before- these ones are cherry flavored, and last time they were soda. These are by the brand Kyoshin. I couldn’t find calories.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Besides the cute and unique packaging, these also taste good. They’re very different from the other mochi, in that they’re little chewy candies. They taste like normal cherry-flavored candy.

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 5 out of 5. Everything held up and it was all plenty tasty, with the exception of a few items I didn’t really like, but I know catered to those of you who do like the taste would love the items. Nothing tasted stale or old.

Quality - 2 out of 5. I was severely disappointed, not in the quality of the items but the box itself for being extremely repetitive; half of the box had repetitive items, the theme was very repetitive, and the DIY kit was disgracefully repetitive...

Theme - 3 out of 5. A good portion of the box was fairly fruity in going with the theme, and I believe if you’re going to do a theme you should stick with it, and I noticed that the Classic edition of the box caters more towards the theme than the Premium, but this time I thought it was decent. However, as I said above it was pretty repetitive, so I can’t say I enjoyed the theme.

Total Rank: 5 out of 10. Not counting my preference in flavors, I feel like the items were great. Nothing was stale for having sat around a few months (which is a problem sometimes), no quality problems in terms of item damage or issues, but the fruity theme didn’t appeal to me at all because I feel like the box only half-tried in following it, and there was a lot of repetition. I even wanted to justify the DIY but you honestly can’t at this point. I think this is the 3rd time I’ve gotten it recently, and several kits have fruity tastes or themes, there was no excuse for them to give this same DIY kit to us this soon. They quit with the health snacks and everything else that made this box unique and fun, I don’t understand why obtaining equally priced DIY is suddenly so hard.

♥ Cutie’s Scale of Yummy ♥

I’m not doing it this time, I’m kind of in a bad mood now that I wrote that <3< sorry.

[the-real-narnia]

Ripples, Chapter Two - Elle, Part Two

Title: Ripples

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Rated: M for Violence and Swearing

Other Sites: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12477008/2/Ripples, 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831923/chapters/24083574#workskin,

 https://www.quotev.com/story/9590597/Ripples/2, 

https://www.wattpad.com/416529712-ripples-a-fairy-tail-fanfiction-chapter-two-elle

*Picture is an edited picture of Mavis I made. 

Chapter Two - Elle, Part Two

The first thing I did was read through all of the books on the table.

Well, actually, the first thing I did was explore the house, which was a nice, one story cottage. There was the master bedroom and a guest bedroom, both of decent size. The bathroom held a large bath with a showerhead above it, with a window to let out some steam.

I stopped exploring there and carefully considered my reflection. My hair (which had previously been an extremely dark brown color) was now a dark purple. My eyes (which had previously been a light blue) were now the color of ice.

They weren't big changes, but they were still changes.

I shook my worries away, accepted that I would get used to it, and continued exploring.

The kitchen led off to the kitchen table (where the books were) which sat in front of a pair of large sliding doors leading outside. To the right of the kitchen was a living room, with chairs and a sofa. There was also a door leading to a study, which I loved. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, all filled with more information; everything from different types of magic, to the history of Fiore, to the laws and monetary system. One of the walls didn't have a bookcase, but instead a map of the country of Fiore, with Alvarez peeking through on the outskirts. At the other end of the study was a window, and under that, a desk.

When I was done exploring the house, I returned to the kitchen table, which was stacked with different types of books on the magic I wanted to learn specifically. I organized them based on the magic type, and separated any sort of intro to magic that I might need.

The most important ones I had to learn first were location magic, and then teleportation magic.

The location magic focused on how to find people, and how to find items. I wouldn't need the items for now, but people were first on the list.

At this point in time, I was nine. Most of the main characters in Fairy Tail were four going on five, or somewhere in that range. The dragon slayers (raised by actual dragons) weren't even in this time period. They wouldn't be until July 7th, X777, which was over five years from now. So I really couldn't do anything for them right now.

Carefully, I wrote out a timeline of upcoming events, which exhausted me. Most of it was guesswork, too. Man, would I love to have some internet. Or more specifically, the Fairy Tail Wikia.

So first things first; practicing magic.

I started with mediating, according to A Beginner's Guide to Learning Magic. Or, as I like to call it, A Perfectly Reasonable Guide to Learning Magic Unless You're A Fucking Idiot Like Elle.

I stopped and glared at the book. Meditating was getting me nowhere. I couldn't mediate. My mind just wouldn't shut down.

Okay, Elle, calm down, you can do this. I reassured myself.

Fifteen minutes later I was getting angry again.

"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed again. I jumped up and started pacing. "Why isn't this working! This is fucking ridiculous! Why can't I-"

I stopped. There was energy coursing through me, I could feel it as I lived and breathed. I suddenly remembered a moment in Fairy Tail Zero, when Zeref taught the group magic. And when that happened, the normal way didn't work for Yuri, he learned by…exercising…

"Whooooohooooo!" I screamed, jumping into the air. "Now we're talking! Time to get this party started!"

I started running laps around my cottage. This was perfect. No, it was more than perfect! Not only was I increasing my magical capacity, but I was also increasing my physical stamina!

Except I forgot that I was never very good at exercising in the first place and that I was also only nine years old.

I had only ran two laps before I ran out of energy and collapsed on the ground, panting.

"Fuck," I breathed. But it was still a good start. Now that I could actively feel my magic, I might actually be able to meditate the normal way, so this was a good thing.

I waited for my (physical) energy to come back, and entered the house so I could get something to eat.

"Fuck!"

I stared at the empty pantry.

I was an idiot. Food should've been the first thing I checked. All my exploring the house, I didn't even open the pantry or the fridge. Now I need to go into town, buy food, and carry it all back here.

I stumbled over to the sink and drank some water from the tap. Unfortunately, I didn't have any cups either, so I had to scoop it up in my hands.

I walked back to the table and grabbed the paper and pen that was there. At least I had that.

Slowly, I began to make a shopping list.

It was pretty basic.

Kitchen shit

Bathroom shit

Office shit

Gardening shit

Cleaning shit

Food

There, I thought.

As for basic kitchen utensils, since I'm living on my own for now and not making any money, don't know how much any of this costs, and don't know how much money I even have, I decided to go as sparingly as possible, only getting one for me and a spare in case I lose one. I could just wash everything by hand, so there was no need for other things.

I had all the furniture I needed (for now) and the electricity and plumping was taken care of (something I needed to understand quickly in case it becomes untaken care of).

Now, as for the money.

I peeked back into my study, where I was hoping there was a safe or something that I had missed the first time around.

Entering the room, I went to my desk.

There was a sticky note that said Under the desk.

I sighed and pushed the chair out of the way so I could crawl under the desk (which I could easily fit under because of my size).

Below it was a safe with a key, which was good because a dragon slayer could probably break in if it was a combination lock. The key was on top of the safe, along with a book and a wallet.

I grabbed the key, book, and wallet, and climbed out from under the desk. Inspecting the book, which was called The Monetary System of Fiore, I saw another sticky note on it that said, 1,000 J equals appr. $20. The amount in this wallet should cover your first shopping trip. The rest is in the safe.

1,000 J was $20? Actually, that makes sense, considering how much Lucy had to pay for a meal and her apartment.

I put the book down on the desk, and pocketed the key and wallet, which contained 50,000 J. I really, really hope that that is overestimating and that the inflation here isn't so bad that it would really cost me $1,000 to go shopping.

I made my way down what seemed to be a trail (well, I really hope it was, but I can get lost really easily), and luckily found myself off the edge of Magnolia.

I entered the town and immediately noticed the guild. I stared at it longingly until I shook my head. No Elle, come on, you need to get ready first. Once you've got everything you need, then you can go to the guild. I turned around, and started looking for a supermarket.

After about ten minutes of searching, I finally gave up and accepted what I didn't want to be true – there were no supermarkets in Magnolia, and possibly not any at all in Fiore.

As I made my way to the Market District, which was easily found after asking directions, I desperately looked for some kind of cart or wagon I could use to carry all of my bought goods, because I didn't want to carry everything back.

I luckily found a furniture shop, where I went in and asked for a cart. I got some weird looks, probably because of my age, but I walked out of there with a large cart for 4,000 J. I've never bought a cart before, so I have no idea whether or not I got a good deal.

I continued down the street where I found an office supply shop, a gardening shop (where I bought tools and seeds for my own vegetable garden), a bathroom shop, and a kitchen shop.

I sighed. All of these little shops were making me tired, and I decided that when I had finished most of my plans that I was going to find someone who would make supermarkets a thing.

I had gotten everything I needed except for food. I started with bread from the bakery, and some meat and cheese from a deli. Afterwards, I went to a farmer's market, where I bought a series of fruits and vegetables that I actually like (as I'm really picky).

Finally finished, I checked how much money I had left and realized that the rest was probably for me to get some clothes.

I eyed the clothes shop before shaking my head. Nope. I could get that another time.

Passing a spices and herbs stand, I got a bottle of salt (already in a shaker, luckily) and made my way back to the forest where I lived.

Sighing, I finally entered my home again and breathed a sigh of relief. I filled one of the cups from the tap and greedily drank down the water.

Sighing (in content, this time) I put down the cup and started unpacking my items. I filled the fridge and the pantry, and put my office supplies in the office/library and the bathroom things in the bathroom. I moved my cart over to an extra space near the entrance of the house, and put the gardening supplies on the shelf above the cart. I guess it was like a mudroom?

I went back outside and decided to try meditating again. Sitting down, I closed my eyes, and, instead of trying to focus on nothing, focused on the magic I felt spinning through my body. I tried to manipulate it, but it was like grabbing water.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to start pushing it. This was (supposedly) the way to increase your magical container. My body was like a bubble, and I needed to stretch it out.

I pushed my magic harder and harder, until I could see a glowing behind my eyes. Opening them, I looked down at my body, which was shining with magical energy, the same color as my hair, a dark purple, almost black color.

I smiled and pushed with all of my might. My pure magical energy shot towards the sky, and I shouted in joy.

Step 1, complete.

I continued pushing my magic until I felt it nearly all disappear. I knew I had to stop before I hit Magical Exhaustion, so I stopped pushing. The loss of the energy and adrenaline running through me nearly made me collapse, and I decided to rest there for a bit, staring at the sky and enjoying the sounds of nature.

As I felt both my energy and my magic start to replenish, I made my way back inside the house, where I showered and changed into a nice dress. While there were a few clothes in my closet, they were nearly all dresses, and my dresser was completely empty except for undergarments. I would have to buy shorts, which I did prefer, as well as tennis shoes, because the only shoes I had were sandals.

After changing, I made me way outside and decided to try teleporting. I pictured the other side of my house and concentrated, almost picturing the space in between where I was and where it was fold, and then ghosting through that to the other side.

I opened my eyes.

Nothing happened.

"Dammit!"

I knew it wouldn't come that easily, but I was hoping it was a bit easier.

Alright Elle, try again.

I closed my eyes and pictured the front of my house. Instead of picturing myself pass through space to that point, I instead pictured myself appearing in the image I had of the front of my house.

I felt my magic rush through me, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in the front of my house.

I was elated that I did it, but completely exhausted. Despite the short distance, I still felt a large drain in my magic, and decided to get a lot of sleep. Tomorrow I would meditate in the morning, and then I would talk to Makarov.

[hannahindie]

Angels Can’t Cook

Characters: Castiel x Reader, Dean Winchester (brief) Word Count: 2,514 Warnings: Some language, Cas being freaking adorable, Dean being a little shit. You know, the usual. A/N: I wrote this for @roxyspearing’s “We have a gif for that” challenge! My gif is below, and though it didn’t quite go the way I originally planned, I absolutely love how it turned out.

Beta’d by my wonderful writing soulmate, @trexrambling: “Famous last words. Also, that flower lady is my new favorite side character.” Dude, me too. Maybe I should write a fic with just the side characters coming together to save Sam and Dean. hahah

and also @pinknerdpanda, who is my literal twin: “HxlhskyrhlAgdjhflfi. *Flails* I love this so much!!!” I thoroughly enjoy making you flail.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

“Sir?” The store employee cautiously approached the man standing in front of the meat case. “Sir, do you need help?”

The trenchcoated figured turned to face her, his eyes narrowed and head tilted, “Is this the best burger that you have?”

“Umm, yes, this is all the ground beef that we have.”

“Is it...organic?”

She forced herself to pull her eyes away from his bright blue ones and looked down at the case. “Well, some of it is. There are signs next to each one that tells you which is organic and which isn’t.”

He looked back down, his head still tilted slightly as he stared at the options. “What is the difference between organic and non-organic? Are they not all made from slaughtered cows?”

The girl looked back at him, her eyes wide as she wondered if he was being serious. “Umm...well, it’s more about what they’re fed and how they’re raised...and that sort of thing…” she trailed off.

He looked up and locked eyes with her again, “I see. Do you care about organic beef?”

“I mean...I care that the animals are treated well, although non-organic is cheaper so I guess it comes down to how much money I have for groceries that week. If I can afford organic, I try to support good farming practices.” Why was she telling this stranger about her shopping habits?

“I do not believe money will be an issue today, so in light of how Y/N feels about farm animals, I think I will choose the organic.” He picked up two packages of ground beef, then looked back to the girl and smiled, “Thank you, Lilly. I appreciate your help today.”

He left the confused girl behind and wandered off towards the fresh vegetables, his eyes trained on the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. His shopping cart was full almost to the brim, but he wanted to make sure that he found everything Y/N might like. He had spent the past three weeks observing her food choices, things she loved and things she absolutely hated, and was fairly positive that he had gathered enough information to create a dinner that she would enjoy.

“Why don’t you do something nice for her? Actions speak louder than words, man. Actions.” Dean’s voice echoed in his mind as he gathered corn on the cob, cucumbers, and a large container of spring mix and added them to his cart and, after a moment of deliberation, threw in a container of raspberries, a dozen apples, and a couple of kiwis. He made his way to the front of the store, but a bright splash of color caught his eye, and he changed direction.

“Can I help you?” He looked up to see an older woman with wispy silver hair pulled into a bun smiling at him.

“I am not sure. I would like to surprise my...friend. I do not know her favorite flowers, though.” He frowned, disappointed that he had not thought of it earlier.

“Hmm...well, let’s see.” The woman came from behind the counter and, only giving his overflowing cart a cursory look of thinly veiled amusement, began looking through the premade bouquets. “What’s she like, this friend of yours?”

“She is like a summer storm, warm and strong, but also like a hidden meadow, beautiful and wild.”

She looked up at him in surprise, “That is...very descriptive.” She put her hands on her hips as she thought, “None of these are going to work. Wait just a second, hon.” She disappeared into the room behind the counter and Cas stood silently, his eyes roaming the store as he waited patiently for her to come back.

“Alright, how about something like this?” Cas looked towards the voice and couldn’t help but smile widely at the bouquet she was holding out. It was filled with wildflowers, a rainbow of color sprinkled with baby’s breath, the stems held together with a burlap ribbon and fastened with a small pearl brooch.

“That is beautiful. I cannot think of a better way to describe Y/N using a floral arrangement. How much will that be?”

She looked from Cas to the cart, then back to him, “Is all that food for her?” He nodded proudly, and she smiled. “The flowers are on me, hon. She’s a lucky gal to have such a good...friend,” she said with a wink. Cas nodded and made his way to the checkout. This was turning out to be easier than he had anticipated.

Cas looked down at his flour caked hands and sighed. His assumption of this being easier than he’d anticipated was turning out to be short lived. He looked at the recipe again, then back down at the sticky mess that was supposed to be dough. Y/N had mentioned that when she was younger, her mother had baked the best bread she’d ever tasted. Of course, he didn’t have that recipe, but he figured any homemade bread would be suffice for what he had planned. What he didn’t plan was how difficult it would be to get it the right consistency. Baking was much more exact than the other things he had cooked today, and he was about to give up on the idea of serving warm, fresh bread with the soup course of his extravagant dinner plans.

“What in the everloving hell happened in here?”

Cas gathered the sticky mass of unusable dough and dumped it unceremoniously into the trash can. “I am making dinner for Y/N. You told me that actions speak louder than words, so I am taking an action, Dean.” He walked over to the sink and began scrubbing his hands.

“Yea, but I didn’t mean you had to destroy the kitchen in the process! Y/N just cleaned in here, she’s going to to murder you, man.” Cas turned around in time to see Dean wrinkle his nose as he looked down in one of the bubbling pots on the stove. “What...what is that?”

“It is tortellini. Y/N said she loves tortellini, and since she orders it at every restaurant that serves pasta, I believe that my assumption of it being her favorite food is accurate.”

“You're not wrong, but how long has this been boiling for? You’re supposed to take it off and drain it, it only takes, like...five minutes. They don’t even look like tortellinis anymore, it’s just soggy noodles and floating cheese.” He turned off the burner and moved the pot from the hot surface. “What else are you trying to make?”

Cas gestured to another pot on the stove as he pulled out the loaf of french bread he had bought as a backup, “Mashed potatoes. She loves mashed potatoes, so I made them from scratch. I found some that you could add water to, but it did not feel as personal that way.”

Dean nodded, “Not bad, buddy.” He grabbed a wooden spoon and scooped out a mouthful. The moment it hit his tongue, Dean groaned and spit it back out. He glared at the flavorless mass as it hit the floor with a wet thud.

Cas looked at him, his brows knitted in concern, “What is wrong?”

Dean wiped the offending potatoes from his mouth and tossed the spoon down on the counter, “Do you even know what salt is? Pepper? Any kind of seasoning at all?”

“They are mashed potatoes, I thought that that was all I needed to do.”

Dean’s eyes widened, “You thought you...just what...where’s the butter? Where is it?” He flung the refrigerator door open and began digging around. “Do we have milk? You’ve got to use milk and butter, Cas, or else it’s just...smashed potatoes. There’s no flavor, just a sad paste that no one wants to eat.”

“I do not need help, Dean, I am managing just fine on my own.” Cas grabbed a bowl and began pouring salad into it. He started cutting up carrots with a little more force than was necessary.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta disagree. It looks like all you’ve managed to do-” he stopped abruptly, and Cas glanced over to see a look of horror on Dean’s face. He looked from the stove top back up to Cas’ face, his mouth hanging open. “What...did...you...do?”

“I cooked steak,” Cas said with a shrug before returning back to his carrots.

“No, no, no, that’s not what you did. You made leather...you...destroyed...how? How did you do that? Cooking is not that difficult. You know what, it’s fine, it’s okay. You don’t eat, so obviously that’s the problem here. It looks like you bought enough food to feed us for a month, so I’ll just cook something up real quick and you can take the credit.”

“I said I can do it myself. I am making dinner for Y/N, not you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “No, you are making poison for Y/N. None of this is edible, man. Just let me help. Angels just aren’t cut out for this, obviously. I’ll cook it, you deliver it.”

Cas slammed the knife he’d been using onto the counter and ripped off the apron he was wearing, “Bite me, Dean. I was only trying to do something nice for Y/N, like you told me, and clearly I have made a mistake.”

“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean anything by it…” He trailed off as Cas disappeared. “Bite me? He’s been around me for way too long.” Dean turned back and looked at the kitchen, his hands on his hips. “And of course I’m going to have to clean this up before Y/N comes back.” His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers Cas had carefully arranged in a glass jar he had scrounged from the pantry and smiled. Cleaning up the mess would be worth it if those two got their shit together.

“What happened in here?!”

Dean flinched, then turned and gave Y/N a smile, “We were, uh...experimenting with food. You know, like those..uhh...gastro pubs you hear about all the time.”

She crossed her arms and frowned as she surveyed the mess, “Gastro pubs? And who is we? You had better clean this mess up, because I’m not doing it. Ugh, I can’t believe you. Gastro pubs…” She turned and walked out of the kitchen, still mumbling to herself. Dean grabbed a towel and a fresh trash bag, resigning himself to his fate.

“So much for that nap I was going to take,” he grumbled as he began tossing things into the trash.

Y/N was laying in bed, still frustrated by the mess she’d found in the kitchen. She had spent hours in there, cleaning and organizing, and Dean had destroyed it in one fell swoop. “Gastro pub,” she muttered as she angrily flipped the page of the book she was trying, and failing, to read. She wasn’t sure why it had frustrated her so much. Dean was usually pretty good at cleaning up after himself, but she was exhausted, and all she wanted was a little appreciation for what she’d spent so much time on.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she laid her book down, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slowly and Cas walked in, a large pizza in one hand and a beautiful bouquet in the other. “Hello, Y/N. Would you like some dinner?”

She smiled and nodded towards the empty spot next to her on the bed, “Sure thing, Cas. That’s really sweet of you.”

He sat the flowers on her desk and shut the door behind him, “I am sorry about the mess in the kitchen. I know that you spent a lot of time cleaning, and I promise I will make sure it is spotless.”

She tilted her head, “What are you talking about?”

“Dean said that I should do something nice for you, and so I decided to make your favorite foods for dinner. It has become very obvious that I do not have the skills necessary to do that. Reading instructions is one thing, actually doing it is quite another. I may have gotten frustrated with Dean and left the mess behind.” He sat the pizza between them on the bed, “I hope that pizza is okay. I will go clean up after myself.” Cas moved to stand up, and Y/N put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Stay...please?” He settled back onto the bed and Y/N flipped the box open, “Why did you want to do something nice for me?”

Cas cleared his throat and looked at her from the corner of his eye, his fingers drumming nervously against his thighs. “Dean said that actions speak louder than words, and I thought perhaps cooking your favorite things would be a good way to show my affection for you.”

Y/N froze, her pizza lingering halfway to her mouth, and she swallowed thickly as she sat it back down. “You have affection for me?”

He looked down at his hands, “Yes, I believe that would accurately describe how I feel towards you.” He was surprised when Y/N covered one of his hands with her own. He looked up to see she was staring at him, a small smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

“Well, that’s good, because I was starting to think that maybe I was the only one that felt that way.” Cas’ brows raised and Y/N’s heart began to race. She had wanted to say something to him for months; but how does someone tell an angel of the Lord that she’s falling in love with him?

“You...also feel affection towards me?”

Y/N nodded, her hand moving from his own to his cheek, his five o’clock shadow rough against her palm, “Yea...I do.” His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she was lost in the bright cerulean depths. She wondered, not for the first time, how something could be so blue. She moved the pizza onto her night stand and shifted so that she was facing Cas. She leaned in and kissed him softly, smiling against him when she felt his arms wrap around her waist. After a moment, she pulled back to look at him, “I didn’t know that angels knew how to kiss.”

“I am not sure that they typically do. I have learned a lot from the pizza man.”

“The pizza man...you know what, I’m not going to question it.” She kissed him again and gasped when he flipped her onto her back.

“What about the kitchen?” Cas whispered, his blue eyes locked with her y/e/c ones.

“Sounds like a job for Dean, if you ask me,” she said with a wink. “Besides, I think you’ve got another job to do in here.”

“I would not call it a job-”

“Shut up and show me what the pizza man taught you.”

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here! 

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-babydoll @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mindsunleashed @mogaruke

[poorquentyn]

Men’s Lives Have Meaning, Part 7: Conclusion

Full series here

A Dance with Dragons begins, appropriately enough, from the point of view of a dragon. 

Before Mance, Varamyr Sixskins had been a lord of sorts. He lived alone in a hall of moss and mud and hewn logs that had once been Haggon’s, attended by his beasts. A dozen villages did him homage in bread and salt and cider, offering him fruit from their orchards and vegetables from their gardens. His meat he got himself. Whenever he desired a woman he sent his shadowcat to stalk her, and whatever girl he’d cast his eye upon would follow meekly to his bed. Some came weeping, aye, but still they came. Varamyr gave them his seed, took a hank of their hair to remember them by, and sent them back. From time to time, some village hero would come with spear in hand to slay the beastling and save a sister or a lover or a daughter. Those he killed, but he never harmed the women. 

That’s what Varamyr was: an archetypal monster-in-a-cave, the classic village dragon that every RPG needs. The Sixskins preyed on all life within a prowl’s reach, his entire life a tribute to domination of others on every possible plane, breaking every border that another being might think to set around themselves. He began feeding on those unlucky “dozen villages” after killing his mentor and eating his fuckin’ heart, and they’ve been living with the monster in the woods ever since. It’s not something anyone ever has to talk about. It’s something that everyone simply knows, out here in this particular stretch of the wild. A fact of life, a splinter in your mind, a fire behind a shadowcat’s eyes, and the fire whispers walk with me...

Varamyr thus combines the ruthless exploitation of your average feudal lord with supervillain powers and a serial killer’s personal life; even the Boltons would have to doff their caps at the pain-racket the skinchanger had going north of the Wall. Mance shoulda killed him and threw his head at the villagers’ feet, but the temptation to use him as a weapon proved too strong. After all, who needs the real Horn of Winter when you have an apocalypse that walks like a man, the closest approximation we get to the nuclear-fired cthuloid maw of a Euron Crowseye POV? Varamyr was It, Pennywise the goddamn dancing clown, for a generation of wildlings across a dozen villages. He was the darkness at the edge of town, feeding off of them and among them at will. He’s there to...what’s the phrase...ah yes: “to give the heroes something to fight.”

It was only natural, then, that they started showing up at his doorstep. Never quite as tall as they thought they were, these heroes, the dragon would sigh every time as he uncoiled and moved towards the door. Never so strong, nor so quick. They must have thought it would feel differently than this, he mused as he approached them. They thought they would be able to hear the songs to be written of their triumph in their ears, rather than their own heart drumming a nervous beat and the shrieks of their companions (those that had made it this far). They thought the gods would guide their hand to strike the beast true, or some such rot, never realizing until it was too late that the gods weren’t home and it was just them and the nightmares. They are (the dragon would always pause to think in the heartbeat before he began bathing in their blood) doing what they think they’re supposed to do, the best thing they know how to do, as far as their cattle brains are concerned. Scared, maybe--certainly--but they were there. They were going to save their lovers, avenge their families, slay the feared and hated Sixskins, or die trying. They were ready, in the name of Story, to dance with dragons. 

The dragon was only too happy to oblige. He killed them as they came, one by one, ultimately putting about as much effort into it as you or I might put into scrubbing dead skin away in the shower. Like the Wild Hares, their songs and screams waft together, blurred, intertwined, one amidst the brittle branches, before slipping up, out, and away, caught on the stiff morning breeze. In a tossed-off paragraph, Varamyr offers us a glimpse of dozens of Hero’s Journeys that he personally short-circuited.

So begins A Dance with Dragons, the book named in tearfully ironic honor of Quentyn Martell’s quest--from the perspective of the abyss into which a hundred such quests stared and wilted. The monster from the cave is dying now, lost and hungry and far from the people he fed upon, fearful that his long red reaper’s bill has finally come due. He whispers his story to us, his bloodshot eyes holding ours but seeing past them; he makes one final attempt to dominate (poor Thistle, who risked her life for him!) and having failed that, is forced to cross the astral threshold to another kind of life entirely.

What makes this chapter not just a nightmare (though it is that, and a peerlessly skin-crawling eldritch nightmare if ever I was jerked awake screaming from one) is the many-layered resonances it has with the book that follows. I’m not talking here about the setup Varamyr’s Prologue does for Jon’s character arc, nor for Bran’s, as both are well-trod territory by now. I’m talking about Quentyn, because I see him and his dead friends in the trail of skeletons outside Varamyr’s lair. A book later, we have been shown (not just told, but shown) that every one of those nameless Not The Heroes whom the skinchanger dispatched with such swift and terrible ease had a story. They had friends, every bit as much as those heroes who succeeded. They ate and slept, yelled and sang, wept and laughed and farted. They lived, they died. They were only just born, they were just here I’m telling you, my boy Quent and those older boys he runs around with! I saw him waving when they went off to fight the monster to get justice for his auntie, he was so scared but trying to be brave, just wave, just wave and you’ll be fine, he’ll be home by nightfall, you’ll see...

But they never come home. We know all this about these Not The Heroes because we spent the book with one of them. GRRM zoomed us all the way in on the bones Bran saw in his dreams, the bones of a “thousand other dreamers” who failed to fly. We got in close enough to realize one wasn’t dead, not yet; he craned his face desperately to us in his dying throes, struggling to form a few words, to tell us (or rather, Missandei) what had happened to him and why. We have danced the dance, and so did Quent. He died dancing.

After the girl was gone, the old knight peeled back the coverlet for one last look at Quentyn Martell’s face, or what remained of it. So much of the prince’s flesh had sloughed away that he could see the skull beneath. His eyes were pools of pus. He should have stayed in Dorne. He should have stayed a frog. Not all men are meant to dance with dragons.

And so, the book that began by drawing us inside the unholy fire burning in a nightmare-shaman’s eyes writes its thesis statement in the pus and blood leaking out of where Quent’s eyes once were. Not everyone had their third eye opened. Some of us...most of us are just humans, and for all our follies and failures and warm little fires, “just humans” can’t contain the deadlights. They eat you up inside. 

It is quite fitting that Barristan Selmy has the last word on Quent’s quest--fitting, moving, and sad at a level I don’t think I’m going to fully appreciate until I’m as old as Barry himself. The white knight, for all his many sins and mistakes, is a decent-hearted old man desperately trying to do some good before he dies. As we see with his squires, he wants to leave a piece of himself behind. Barry did his best to warn Quent, telling him that his adventure was a sham, the Stranger was coming for him, and he should go home while he can. Note the terms on which Quentyn refused this wise advice:

Before he had gone three steps, Quentyn Martell called out to him. “Barristan the Bold, they call you.”

“Some do.” Selmy had won that name when he was ten years old, a new-made squire, yet so vain and proud and foolish that he got it in his head that he could joust with tried and proven knights. So he’d borrowed a warhorse and some plate from Lord Dondarrion’s armory and entered the lists at Blackhaven as a mystery knight. Even the herald laughed. My arms were so thin that when I lowered my lance it was all I could do to keep the point from furrowing the ground. Lord Dondarrion would have been within his rights to pull him off the horse and spank him, but the Prince of Dragonflies had taken pity on the addlepated boy in the ill-fitting armor and accorded him the respect of taking up his challenge. One course was all that it required. Afterward Prince Duncan helped him to his feet and removed his helm. “A boy,” he had proclaimed to the crowd. “A bold boy.” Fifty-three years ago. How many men are still alive who were there at Blackhaven?

“What name do you think they will give me, should I return to Dorne without Daenerys?” Prince Quentyn asked. “Quentyn the Cautious? Quentyn the Craven? Quentyn the Quail?”

Now Barristan is staring down the results: a stinking horrorshow of a corpse, gazing back with condemnation. Your life is a mirage, the dead man whispers past what were once lips. What worth the songs and stories of Barristan the Bold when following them led me here? Quentyn made it to Dany’s bed after all...only to die in it, soaking it in fire and blood. The Windblown promised to save him from such a fate, only to deliver him to it: “Do you want to die abed?” Barry can’t know all of this, of course, but as he gives the book its name, he senses it, all of it. He knows the stories too well not to. As such, the scene is a quietly heartrending portrait of existentialist melancholy, painted in gray as the rain lashes down. The old bury the young, and everyone who was at Blackhaven is gone.

Later on in “The Queen’s Hand,” the mournful tone shifts into bitter irony. The white knight pays a visit to Quent’s companions, imprisoned for killing four Brazen Beasts and letting Dany’s children loose. Drink and the big man have mostly stayed in the background of Quent’s story. One gets the sense that Cletus and Maester Kedry were the core of the group, whereas Drink and the big man are basically sidekicks who never expected to be in charge. To borrow from @racefortheironthrone, it’s as if Gandalf and Aragorn were (permanently) killed off in a literal random encounter two days outta Rivendell, and Pippin and Sam had to take over. Indeed, Archibald Yronwood displays Gamgee-esque devotion in one of the most heartbreaking images of the series, one with the primal pull of a pieta: 

Archibald Yronwood had been cradling his prince’s scorched and smoking body when the Brazen Beasts had found him, as his burned hands could testify. He had used them to beat out the flames that had engulfed Quentyn Martell.

It’s only now, with Quent gone, that these two come to the fore and we get a sense of who they really are. Drink protests too much; it’s pretty clear from his dialogue that what he’s most concerned about is being blamed for this whole ordeal, and is desperately trying to frame Quent’s death as being Dany’s fault. The big man finally has enough of his sanctimonious bullshit, telling him to “shut your bloody mouth before I put my fist in it.” He shrewdly notes that Barry could’ve already let the Shavepate execute them both for killing his men, and so he must want something from them. Barry internally compliments him, and the two of them are able to cut a very significant deal:

“What did Prince Quentyn promise the Tattered Prince in return for all this help?”

He got no answer. Ser Gerris looked at Ser Archibald. Ser Archibald looked at his hands, the floor, the door.

“Pentos,” said Ser Barristan. “He promised him Pentos. Say it. No words of yours can help or harm Prince Quentyn now.”

“Aye,” said Ser Archibald unhappily. “It was Pentos. They made marks on a paper, the two of them.”

There is a chance here. “We still have Windblown in the dungeons. Those feigned deserters.”

“I remember,” said Yronwood. “Hungerford, Straw, that lot. Some of them weren’t so bad for sellswords. Others, well, might be they could stand a bit of dying. What of them?”

“I mean to send them back to the Tattered Prince. And you with them. You will be two amongst thousands. Your presence in the Yunkish camps should pass unnoticed. I want you to deliver a message to the Tattered Prince. Tell him that I sent you, that I speak with the queen’s voice. Tell him that we’ll pay his price if he delivers us our hostages, unharmed and whole.”

Ser Archibald grimaced. “Rags and Tatters is more like to give the two of us to Pretty Meris. He won’t do it.”

“Why not? The task is simple enough.” Compared to stealing dragons. “I once brought the queen’s father out of Duskendale.”

“That was Westeros,” said Gerris Drinkwater.

“This is Meereen.”

“Arch cannot even hold a sword with those hands.”

“He ought not need to. You will have the sellswords with you, unless I mistake my man.”

Gerris Drinkwater pushed back his mop of sun-streaked hair. “Might we have some time to discuss this amongst ourselves?”

“No,” said Selmy.

“I’ll do it,” offered Ser Archibald, “just so long as there’s no bloody boats involved. Drink will do it too.” He grinned. “He don’t know it yet, but he will.”

So...let’s be very clear about what’s being agreed to, here. Barry’s offering to genuinely make good on Quent’s promise of Pentos--something which, let’s be honest, Doran Martell would be very unlikely to do. There is no lack of crystallizing moments in Quentyn’s story which neatly summarize the whole, perfect little twists of the searing deconstructive knife, but this is the filet of the Quentyn tenderloin. The devil won. Quentyn’s story: qui bono? The Tattered Prince. Doran’s out a son, Drink and the big man are out another friend, but the painter-in-red Prince who taught Quent what hell looked like, what he gets is Pentos back. All the trappings of a perfect fantasy quest, my poor boy, but you see, you weren’t the one being empowered by your storyline. Fucking Mephistopheles was! You’re the Dorian Grey portrait in his attic now, and-- *fingers fly to earbud* and I’m being told we have live footage of Tatters’ coronation as Prince-for-life of Pentos...

But what will fully and finally embed Quentyn’s story-within-a-story into the overall pattern of ASOIAF is the fate awaiting his family back home. Tragedy is built in large part on asymmetric information: someone doesn’t know something until it’s far too late, with Romeo and Juliet providing only the most obvious example. In this case, Quentyn’s big sister Arianne thinks he’s still alive, that he succeeded, that he’s coming home with Dany and her dragons. And she is not remotely happy about that. 

“I would sooner it were Quentyn who’d returned.”

“Or so you say,” said Daemon Sand. “Good night, princess."

He bowed to her, and left her standing there. What did he mean by that? Arianne watched him walk away. What sort of sister would I be, if I did not want my brother back? It was true, she had resented Quentyn for all those years that she had thought their father meant to name him as his heir in place of her, but that had turned out to be just a misunderstanding. She was the heir to Dorne, she had her father’s word on that. Quentyn would have his dragon queen, Daenerys.

In Sunspear hung a portrait of the Princess Daenerys who had come to Dorne to marry one of Arianne’s forebears. In her younger days Arianne had spent hours gazing at it, back when she was just a pudgy flat-chested girl on the cusp of maidenhood who prayed every night for the gods to make her pretty. A hundred years ago, Daenerys Targaryen came to Dorne to make a peace. Now another comes to make a war, and my brother will be her king and consort. King Quentyn. Why did that sound so silly?

Almost as silly as Quentyn riding on a dragon. Her brother was an earnest boy, well-behaved and dutiful, but dull. And plain, so plain. The gods had given Arianne the beauty she had prayed for, but Quentyn must have prayed for something else. His head was overlarge and sort of square, his hair the color of dried mud. His shoulders slumped as well, and he was too thick about the middle. He looks too much like Father.

"I love my brother,” said Arianne, though only the moon could hear her. Though if truth be told, she scarcely knew him. Quentyn had been fostered by Lord Anders of House Yronwood, the Bloodroyal, the son of Lord Ormond Yronwood and grandson of Lord Edgar. In his youth her uncle Oberyn had fought a duel with Edgar, had given him a wound that mortified and killed him. Afterward men called him ‘the Red Viper,’ and spoke of poison on his blade. The Yronwoods were an ancient house, proud and powerful. Before the coming of the Rhoynar they had been kings over half of Dorne, with domains that dwarfed those of House Martell. Blood feud and rebellion would surely have followed Lord Edgar’s death, had not her father acted at once. The Red Viper went to Oldtown, thence across to the narrow sea to Lys, though none dared call it exile. And in due time, Quentyn was given to Lord Anders to foster as a sign of trust. That helped to heal the breach between Sunspear and the Yronwoods, but it had opened new ones between Quentyn and the Sand Snakes… and Arianne had always been closer to her cousins than to her distant brother.

“We are still the same blood, though,” she whispered. “Of course I want my brother home. I do.” The wind off the sea was raising gooseprickles all up and down her arms. Arianne pulled her cloak about herself, and went off to seek her bed.

King Quentyn. It still sounded silly.

King Quentyn. Will I need to kneel to him?

I think this resentment towards the brother she barely knows will drive Arianne to bind her family and people’s fortunes to Aegon in hopes of pre-empting “King Quentyn.” The horrible irony is not only that Quent’s already dead, but that he had no interest in being Dany’s consort, nor in one-upping Arianne. That, however, won’t save Doran and Arianne when Dany, having embraced “fire and blood” on the Dothraki Sea, comes for the “mummer’s dragon” and his backers. 

“They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died.”

“You could have died,” said Arianne again. Her words echoed off the cavern walls. “…died… died … died…”

Enough speculation. Ultimately, the overall point of this and all previous and still-to-come series on ADWD is that this story never stopped being good. The bones are still there. There is still a structure to this song, a rhythm, a dance. The characterization is strong, the worldbuilding is superb, the prose is GRRM’s best yet, and there really is a payoff: it’s Barristan looking into what’s left of Quent’s eyes, knowing mortality, and giving the book its name. 

Dragonfire burns hot and bright, but Yronwood at night is smooth sky and still water. The air snaps clear and perfect into your lungs. There are no dead friends, no adventure to go on nor princess to wed nor dragons to tame, no stories. Just the air, the trees, the water, and you. That’s where I picture Quent. I hope he was thinking of something like that before George finally let him rest. In the end, my boy was glad to go; like I’ve said, he knowingly walked into the fire. Take me home, Stranger! Send me back to Dorne, O winged chariot, burn me clean of accumulated sin and then fly me back to the forest of my youth...

The tiny Naathi scribe looked up at his approach. “Honored ser. The prince is beyond pain now. His Dornish gods have taken him home. See? He smiles.”

...and just like that, he’s gone. The drip is removed, the bereaved notified, the body covered and wheeled out. All that’s left to show he was ever alive is the dull blare of the TV in the hospital room. Ah shit, I left it on! It’s some cheesy fantasy movie from the ‘80s, a dragon and a sword, shit like that. I’ll get it later, after I drop off this poor stiff downstairs. Let it drone on into the empty air where the dead man was. Let the fading echoes of its song slide down his dead ears as I ferry him across the Styx; let ghosts bloom behind his dead eyes as I wheel him into that steel coffin. What’s the harm? What’s one more ghost in a series full of them? Father Mackenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave (no one was saved), muttering to himself, who takes that sort of story seriously, anyway...

All that’s left in the end is the gravestone, and this is what the stone says:

QUENTYN NYMEROS MARTELL

283-300

HE TRIED

Centuries later, the local children solemnly/excitedly tell each other about the Frog Prince, the ghost haunting that big old gravestone set off way back by itself. The stories, as with Varamyr, all go the same way. One moment, you’re leaning against the stone trying to catch your breath from one of the make-believe games (Dragons and Walkers was always popular, Rose Thorns and the Crowseye fiercely beloved by a few), and the next there’s a boy hiding behind it who wasn’t there before. I am the Frog Prince, he whispers like a decaying orchestra, a cry of grief heard at a great distance through seas of saltwater and grass. I have a quest for you. A bright shining adventure, forever just over the horizon, worth every corpse you step over, or make. It can be yours, everything can be yours, if only you guess my true name. 

If the children choose not to guess, they can walk away, knowing no loss but the certainty (even without turning back to confirm) of his pale pus-colored eyes watching them reproachfully as they go. After all, if no one ever guesses right, he’ll be tied to his quest forever, unable to pass on, trapped in in a cage made of pure uncut diamond-hard Story. The only way he can sleep (perchance not to dream) is to find another vessel for the fire, keep the story going, keep the singers singing, on, on, the show must go on...

But if the children guess wrong, the Frog Prince sucks out their innocence through their brain stems like marrow. What the stories don’t tell, can’t tell, but I can, is what the ghost says to his victims right before he severs their heads. You all guess Quentyn, he sighs as they gaze into the nothingness behind his eyes, but the fire got him. I’m what was left. I keep telling you: my name is Frog. 

[eohynn]

Top 5 of cooking style?

Hmm. I’ll interpret this as cooking disciplines. I cook what I want to eat, which usually involves a certain discipline that can be interpreted in many many many different ways. I like learning rules so I can bend them.1. Churning ice cream:Ice cream is freakishly versatile. Sweet, savory, aromatic; simple, complex, familiar, and foreign. Cream is a plain, but immensely satisfying canvas, and I enjoy framing flavors in it. Once you learn the science of what will work, you’re not far from obtaining the feeling of absolute freedom with what you can churn.2. Screaming hot wok cooking:I like fire. A lot. I like cooking over something stupidly hot. I like thrill of knowing that THIS WILL BE DONE COOKING IN SECONDS DO NOT FUCK THIS UP. Plus, you’ll find that there’s just something about the taste of what just came out of a wok. It’s smoky. Maybe a little singed, but it gives whatever you cooked just a bit of character, and you won’t get it any other way.3. Pizza:Everyone’s got that one thing that they could be pretty content with eating every damn day: pizza is mine. My partner makes some of the best bread on the planet, and that skill extends to pizza crust. One of our favorite things to do together is to go to the farmers market, select what looks best out of what’s in season and create a set of all original pies using what we found. It’s the best thing because it’s his every day food as well, and it’s something we kick ass at making together.4. Noodles:I’ll make homemade noodles maybe twice a week. I’ll use em in pasta dishes, stir-frys, homemade ramen, or whatever the hell I feel like. They’re SO EASY. And anyone who tells you that they don’t taste any different than dried-out-of-the-box is an idiot. Really.5. Braises:Few things bring me more joy than pouring a bunch of shit in a blender, getting it smooth, pouring it over some meat, then putting it in the oven and forgetting about it for a few hours. It’s amazingly forgiving, usually very delicious, and it’s the best way to create a protein base that you can recycle into different dishes throughout the week. Often I’ll just braise meat with salt. That’s it. The meat cooks, and is usable for lots of things. The liquid that comes off it can be strained, kept in the fridge, and used for sauces (this shit is broth 2.0). The bones can be frozen and used for stock. Hell, you could even go the extra mile and remove the majority of the fat from the meat before you cook it, braise it separately, and you have a rendered fat to use in other dishes throughout the week. Braising is economical and magical.*phew!*There are my five.

[infanduation]

Summer

(Euron Greyjoy X Fictional Character (Elisabet))

(not my image)

Authors note: Okay, so this is my first ever fanfiction, so please be kind. It’s a little on the darkish side, but I just kind of ran with it. Sorry my knowledge of boats is very limited. I thought of maybe adding more to the story if people like it. Constructive criticism is very welcome and appreciated. Sorry if I didn’t do warning or format right. Hope people will enjoy it!

Word Count: 1554

Warning: Loss and Implied Physical/Sexual Violence

The vessel was aptly named, Silence. You could cut it with a knife. The only sounds were the creaking of the ship as the waves lapped gently against it, the occasional sounds of the crew walking, never speaking. Elisabet sighed to herself, wondering how she ended up on this ship, in the middle of the Sunset Sea, sailing stalwartly to some unknown destination. She remembered of course, the night on her brother’s ship Summer. It was a night she would never forget, the night that the iron men came for them.

Summer

Her brother Ragnar was one of the most brilliant sailors in the village, perhaps the whole North. Their family were once Westerosi, but chose to become free folk during the reign of the Mad King. They had been fisherman ever since they had sailed around the Wall to their new home in Ostshire. Their father had died at a young age, leaving Ragnar to take over caring for her and her mother, as well as the fishing trade. He never complained though, he loved them dearly. Since Elisabet could remember, whenever the weather was fair, she would be at her brother’s side on the old boat her father had built. She loved the smell of the salt water, and thrill of the days catch. Swordfish was a local favorite, and they always made a killing with trade at market.

After Mother joined Father in the afterworld, Summer became Elisabet’s only salvation. She believed Ragnar felt the same. When they were out on those crisp blue waters, wind in their golden hair, they were free of the sadness and loss that had filled their lives.

That morning had been like any other. Ragnar had woke her up before the sun rose to prepare for the long day of fishing ahead. They did not go on too many long trips this time of year as winter was near and the seas became more dangerous and the weather unpredictable. They were out on the sea in time to watch the sunrise while eating their breakfast of smoked meat and bread. They fished for hours. When all was said and done tt been a long day, and they had traveled much further out than usual, but the fishing was very good. They had caught 2 huge swordfish, and a couple buckets of shellfish. Fortunately the weather had been fair all day, but it seemed that storm clouds were on the horizon.

A Coming Storm

Before they knew it the weather had changed drastically, thunder was crashing and winds picked up harsh and heavy. Elisabet was so caught off guard by one large wave she would have gone overboard if her brother hadn’t caught her. He told her to go inside the hull while he tried to steer them from the jagged rocks along the coast. It was in the stormy chaos they came, like a creature from the seventh hell to devour them. She saw through the porthole a great ship, like none she had ever seen. A giant black sail eclipsed the moonlight, a huge golden beast was pictured there, a Kraken Elisabet thought. Just as she felt the gooseflesh cover her entire body her brother swung open the hull door, startling her nearly to death. “Stay inside Lisey, no matter what you hear” he yelled over the storm, his eyes graver than she had ever seen. He drew their father’s sword from his belt and disappeared back into the darkness. He was just like their father she thought, strong and brave. That was the last time she would ever see him.

The Captain

It took all her courage, but Elisabet decided whatever her brother was facing out there, he shouldn’t have to face it alone. She knew he only wanted to protect her, but she was not a little girl any more. She ran to the trunk and dug out her slender sword, Mist. She was not a swordsman like her brother, but he had taught her well enough to use it. In her mind she was ready to run out into the unknown with all the fierceness she could muster, despite feeling like a frightened rabbit inside. She took a breath and turned the door handle, only to find the door would not budge. “He barricaded me in!” she thought. She began to ram the door with her slender frame, but it would not budge. The storm was beginning to break and she could now hear some noise outside the door, she heard boots on the deck and the clinking of swords. A thud. A splash. Then only silence.

In the back of her mind Elisabet wondered what she would do if she could not escape the little room, if she was trapped. There was no time for worry. Elisbet ran at the door with a furiosity she didn’t know she had. As she did, the door opened from the outside and she was sent sprawling on the cold wet deck. She looked around frantically for Ragnar, but he was nowhere to be seen. Who was there were the grimmest little group of men she had seen in all her days. All standing there in silence. She began to look for Mist, but her stomach sunk as she realized that she had dropped it a few feet away when she went to break down the door. Before she could even begin to process what was happening a large hand picked her up by her shirt like a rag doll and set her back on her feet. She spun around to see the source of her reestablishment. She turned to see a giant of a man standing before her. His hair was dark, his eyes blue like the sea…like her brothers’. “Ragnar, where are you??” she thought. The man held a large bloody axe, with the same beast as the sails in its shape. She wondered with growing horror where the blood came from. Blood dripped from his leather coat, a smile graced his moustached face.

He spoke, “Well well well, with the way the lad fought I thought there might actually be some treasure on this floating piece of waste, but I see now what treasure he was protecting”

Elisbet thought, unintentionally, she must have looked quite stupid, standing there, emerald eyes wide, mouth agape. So many things were running through her head. Who was this man? Why were they on Summer? Where was Ragnar? What treasure was he talking about?

“Did you hit your head in the fall Lovely?” the man asked, eyes playful, a large grin on his face. If she didn’t know any better from the look on his face and his easy manner she’d think they were old friends, rather than strangers, better yet, enemies.

“Where is Ragnar?!” she shouted, louder than she intended on the now quiet sea, choking back tears.

“Ragnar?” he asked quizzically, “If you mean the feisty lad I just cut down with my Axe, then the answer is out there” he gestured to the sea. “He put up a good fight, I’ll give him that. He sent one of my men to his grave and injured another. Unfortunately for him, I took his head in recompense. I am sorry Lovely, was that your husband?”

Elisbet heard a voice screaming “NOOOOOO”, it sounded like some sort of banshee, and unearthly shriek. She realized shortly after that it was her own voice, but it seemed distant and detached. She then saw herself picking up Mist and running full speed at the man who had murdered her sweet brother. She swung Mist wildly, but was no match for his immense strength. He looked as if he had barely lifted his weapon to deflect her frenzied blows. She thought he might be playing with her, as the same smirk still sat on his lips. When she had worn herself out he easily knocked the blade aside. “An honest effort” he shrugged “now what is your name pretty girl?” She spat in his face in response.

He wiped it off on his sleeve, pausing to stare at the small act of defiance just long enough to make her second guess her course of action. After a moment the darkness left his eyes and the self-satisfied smirk returned.

“Do you know who I am girl?” he asked, not in a challenging way, but as if he was teaching a small child.

“The son of a whore who murdered my brother” Elisabet replied angrily.

He laughed heartily “Ugh, brother, my mistake. The lad should have stayed out of my way, and let me take the treasure. My name is Euron Greyjoy, and this is my crew, and that is my rather impressively sized vessel, the Silence”.

The name rang a bell, but in her fury she only saw red “I DON’T CARE, you killed my brother, and for what, we don’t have treasure, this is a fishing boat!!” she screamed at Euron.

He smiled at her, the same cocky, knowing smile. “The greatest treasure a man can find of course” he paused “A beautiful woman”. With that he moved with the speed of a Shadow Cat and threw her over his broad shoulders with seemingly no effort. He carried her aboard what she would soon find out was her new home. That was the day Elisabet remembered she went from a happy, free, northern girl to a salt wife.

[elegiacescapist]

A Peek at the Food of Terratus.

Since I love world-building and food, I figured a post looking at the food and agricultural products in Tyranny was something that I had to do. I’m listing ingredients and crops here, but could be persuaded to come up with a cuisine and meal post much, much, later.

Because the game takes place mostly in the Tiers, most of this information may be only pertinent to them, if something can be linked back to the North or the rest of the Empire, I’ll make sure to mention it. Another thing to note is that a decent number of the consumable items use art assets from Pillars of Eternity, a very different setting with different influences, and that makes it a little murkier to interpret how it could fit into Tyranny’s setting.

The format will be a list (again) of named edibles found or mentioned in-game, separated into food groups. And thanks to everyone who helped me with this list or tolerated my yammering about it, you know who you are!

NOTE: VERY MUCH A WORK-IN-PROGRESS, I WILL ADD MORE IF I FIND MORE, LIKE MY OTHER LORE POSTS

WARNING: MILD TYRANNY SPOILERS

Grains & Bread

Ridgewheat: Staple crop in Azure. A good real life comparison would be an older variety of wheat, in particular Emmer Wheat/Farro, as it is rather hardy and can grow in mountainous areas and poor soil conditions, like ridges. Other wheat varieties to compare would be Einkorn, Spelt, and Khorasan/Kamut.

Rice: This is just speculation, but the terraces and general landscape of the Tiers might be right for some form of rice cultivation, and the “flour” icon in-game is the same as the icon for rice in PoE.

Barley: Implied to exist due to the existence of stout and ale, which require barley as an ingredient.

Corn: Northern Empire, Sirin’s home village is mentioned to have grown corn in-game and in her short story.  Possibly indicates that other real life Columbian exchange foods could also exist.

Meat & Fish

Elk: Lantry describes the forests of Vendrien’s Well as a place the nobles of Apex enjoyed elk hunting when asked about the location in Act II.

Boar: A NPC creature that periodically shows up in-game.

Domesticated Pig: A roast pig appears on the Marriage Bed Armistace’s card in the Conquest. The Scarlet Chorus is known to keep pigs and feed them the corpses of slaves, resisting conscripts, dead soldiers etc., indicating that the Chorus practices indirect cannibalism.

Deer: NPC creature found all over the Tiers in-game.

Hare & Rabbit: Winter hares are hunted in the Northern Empire by hounds (mentioned by an analogy used in dialogue with Salveros). Kills-In-Shadow compares Disfavoured soldiers she captured/hunted to rabbits. Hares or rabbits also appear to be one of the small game animals strung up in the Disfavoured Camp in Act I.

Goat: Lantry mentions that the Sages used goat hide to make their vellum when examining areas in the Burning Library, so I imagine it’s likely the Sages ate a lot of goat meat leftover from skinning the animal.

Eel: Found in the Matani River (dialogue with Matani Sybil) and also mentioned in the phrase “simpering surrender eels”, used in the guidebook by Barik in one of the character annotations.

Trout: What the fish consumable appears to be. Another PoE art asset so take this interpretation with a grain of salt.

Pheasant: Lantry apparently knows the secret to perfectly roast these, mentioned when asking about his knowledge with Sirin around. Appears to match appearance of game birds hanging in the kitchen of the Citadel in Vendrien’s Well. 

Cod: Salted cod was stored in Bastard City warehouses. (dialogue with Lady Lucretius)

Lamprey: Lamprey eggs were stored in Bastard City warehouses. Although I’ve never heard of anyone eating the eggs, lamprey is edible, and I imagine if they catch the eggs they’ll eat the fish. (dialogue with Lady Lucretius)

Cuttlefish: Lantry uses their ink in his sepia ink.

Squid: When tasting Lantry’s sepia ink, the Fatebinder notes that it tastes like this kind of cuttlefish in particular.

Dairy (Warning: Mini-rant about Cheese)

Dialogue seems to indicate that cattle (oxen, etc.) are rare, so much of the common cheeses and other dairy products would use other sources such as sheep or goat’s milk. 

Cheese: The cheese we see in-game as a consumable is described as a hard cheese with a “crumbly texture and dull orange colour.” This describes Cheddar, and while it fits the original setting (Drywood, PoE) that the item art in question is first used, it doesn’t quite match the setting for Tyranny and the Tiers, which uses more Bronze and Iron Age Mediterranean influences than it does Medieval/Renaissance period British Isles influences like the Dyrwood. Some earlier origin cheeses such as Pecorino Romano (texture & hardness), Bastardo del Grappa (texture & appearance), Grana Padano or Aged Gouda (hardness) could be alternative references to use for writing and art instead of Cheddar, and because of the existence of corn (a Columbian Exchange food), annatto, which is used for adding colour to orange cheeses such as Mimolette, could also exist and be used to colour this cheese. 

Milk: Must exist because otherwise there’d be no dairy products at all, also mentioned by Barik when talking about the Voices. Goat’s milk is likely more common than cattle-based milk, due to the rarity of cattle,

Butter: Implied to be made and used through the use of the phrase, “butter my ass”, in the Falx Adjudication in Act I. In Act II on the Anarchy path, Bleden Mark can comment on not knowing which side of the bread Tunon butters.

Fruits & Vegetables

Apples: In fruit consumable art, mentioned in the Disfavoured helmet adjudication in Act I as part of an analogy.

Grapes: A necessary ingredient for wine and grappa, alcoholic drinks both mentioned in-game. The Northern Empire is known for fine vintages (dialogue with Pentibor and Fatebinder Cespar), and Vendrien’s Well has or used to have vineyards according to Lantry.

Pears: In fruit consumable art. (PoE asset)

Figs: In fruit consumable art. (PoE asset)

Celery:  Must exist, as celery salt is used for the Dirty Sage cocktail.

Olives: “Greenwarren olives” are mentioned in dialogue with Kosma at Edgering Pass in Act I.

Cabbage: When asking Tunon about quotas and sharing, he uses cabbage as an example mercantile ware. 

Melon: Used by Tychon the Swindler as part of an analogy about “dropping melons” in comparison to head bursting. Kind of melon unspecified.

Cherries: The Fatebinder notes that Lantry’s red ink smells of these.

Hagsberry: Verse mentions her mother’s hagsberry pie recipe when you have insufficient Favour with her whilst talking to her.

Bristleberries: Mentioned in a Tales of the Tiers random event, these yellowish-orange or bright orange berries are described as sweet, tart, nutritious, and energising. Unfortunately they are remarkably similiar in appearance to Bristlebane, which only Beasts and animals can safely eat, and is toxic to humans. “Leaves like hills, safe from the chills. Leaves like rain, unending pain.” -(The Fatebinder, remembering an old saying about these berries.)

Edible Herbs & Fungi

Nettles: The Tripnettle Wilderness once had nettles before Apex tiersmen eradicated them according to the hover text on the map. As well the name of the Nettlebog, a location somewhere within the Empire, indicates their existence outside of the Tiers.

Skycap: Found growing in the mountain ranges of Apex, these are highly valued by Sages for their alchemical properties.

Thistles: Implied to exist due to the name of Lady Lucretius’ destroyed family manor Thistlehome. While thistles are primarily used for medicinal purposes historically, their existence on Terratus may imply that the closely-related artichoke may exist as well.

Sugar & Spices

Honey: Must exist for the creation of the Mead consumable. Apex was known for it’s apiaries as described on the Tyranny website’s map of the Tiers.

Sugarcane: Staple crop in Azure, and an indication that the Tier’s climate must be Sub-Tropical or towards the warmer end of the Temperate range in order for this crop to grow.

Cloves: Vagrant’s Chaw smells a bit like it. (Implied from dialogue with Sterling Hagnon and his inventory)

Garlic: Strings of what appears to be garlic hang from market stalls in centre of Echocall village and Lethian’s Crossing.

Celery Salt: Ingredient for Dirty Sage, indicates existence of celery, and may also indicate the existence of celeriac, a close relative to celery.

Chili Peppers: Strings of what appear to be small red peppers hang from the market stalls in Lethian’s Crossing.

Recreational Drugs, Alcohol, and other Unusual Drinks

Note that a lot of alcohol in this game is beer-based, and beer requires a bittering agent such as hops or gruit (a herb mixture).

Mead: The flavour text for the consumable indicates that it is loved by both the Disfavoured and Chorus. May have been produced in Apex, as they had apiaries, and is likely also produced in the North if the Disfavoured like it.

Brotherhood Stout: A stout which, judging from it’s name, was either named after the Bronze Brotherhod or is something the Brotherhood makes themselves on the side.

Banebrew: An alcoholic concoction made from boiled Bane essence, spices, and ale.

Wine: See grapes entry. Vineyards are mentioned to be found in the North and (possibly formerly) in Vendrien’s Well.

Ale: Ingredient for Banebrew.

Marshberry: A berry that acts as a potent stimulant, known to be eaten by Bastard City merchants to sustain a nights of drunken revelry. A lifetime of use can result in crippling joint pain and a dullness of wits.

Dappleseed: Something you can apparently get “sloshed” on. (dialogue with Erenyos about Barik’s armour)

Grappa:  An ingredient for the Dirty Sage cocktail.

A Dirty Sage: An alcoholic drink made with grappa, olives, and celery salt. Named in “honour” of Lantry. Tastes vaguely like paint thinner, and he loves it. (mentioned when recruiting Lantry in Act II instead of Act I)

[arlessiar]

Eleven questions

I’m incredibly late with answering this, but it took me a while and then the whole Kingsman SDCC thing happened in-between. So no idea if people are still interested in this, but now that I’ve written it I also want to post it. :)

I was tagged by @notbrogues @hartwin-af and @spockri

rules: 1. always post the rules. 2. answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. write 11 questions of your own and tag 11 (or however many) people to answer them.

Questions by @notbrogues

1. Describe your least favourite character.

In general, the pointless love interests, the boring villains, the almighty and flawless heroes, the dumb and helpless females

(And just in case, the opposite – my favourite characters are the caring doctors, the smart geeks, and the loners, misfits and underdogs *g*)

2. A go-to comfort meal/snack/treat.

When my Mum crumbs meat or veggies to fry them she always makes a small fried bread/omelette from the rest of the eggs and breadcrumbs. She adds salt, pepper and some cheese. It’s an old Silesian tradition, my Gran always did that and we still do it today. It means home and comfort for me and I love it and I’ll defend it from every other hungry person in the house. It’s mine. My precious. Me eats it alone! *eg*

Apart from that – Avocado. Chickpeas. White chocolate. Chocolate digestives.

3. Describe a perfect vacation,     with no limit on funds or how long you can stay there.

I go there quite often, but still, London. It’s been my happy place for years. And from there I’d go to Cornwall, to the Lake District, the Brecon Beacons and the Highlands. With unlimited funds I’d take my parents with me or my BFF, and we’d spend lots of time visiting all the manors and country houses!

4. Do you listen to podcasts? If so, what are you favourites?

Listened to the Three Patch Podcast in the Sherlock fandom, but only a few times. Not really my thing in general.

5. One widely accepted fanon headcanon that you just don’t agree with?

Hmm, I like most of the fanon and can live with the rest. Not so keen on Percival being Roxy’s Dad. Distantly related, yes, but I can’t imagine him as her father.  

6. One story/movie/song/album/piece of art that resonated with you and that you will never be able to forget?

There’s so much I could write here, but I have to make a decision, so:

Stories, movies – too many to count!

Song and album – R.E.M., Automatic for the people, “Everybody hurts”. My fav forever band, and that song saved my life during a very low phase I went through in my teens. Oh, and Jeff Buckley’s version of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”. Listening to that for the first time was a revelation.

Piece of art: My favourite picture is Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer above the sea of fog. I could stare at it for hours. Also, seeing Van Gogh’s Sunflowers for real in the National Gallery had blown my mind and I’ll go to look at it every time I’m in London.

When I was a teen there was an exhibition in my city with photographs from Nan Goldin. Our art teacher took us there and most of my classmates weren’t prepared for this rather explicit art. For me though a gate had opened, I finally understood the art of photography, and it’s been a passion of mine ever since.

7. If you have a day off, no responsibilities or pressing matters to attend to: what are you doing for the rest of the day?

Three words – Lego, AO3 and tumblr.

8. Favourite past trend that you are most nostalgic for?

I honestly never really followed trends a lot, so I’ve no idea what to say here. ^^ What I really really miss is the way they made computer games in the Nineties. Give me a good old fashioned Adventure with tricky puzzles and I’m happy.

9. What’s a hobby/skill you’ve always wanted to learn?

Playing the harp or the violin. And archery. Might still try the latter one day.

10. Where do you see yourself in ten years?

So sorry, but I have to skip this one... I don’t dream much anymore. The only thing I can say is: Hopefully still surrounded by the people who I love more than my own life.

11. What was your first fandom? First OTP? First NOTP? Any memorable experiences from those early days?

My first fandom was Star Trek, around 1991. I always blame my Dad for me becoming a geek because it was him who told me to watch TOS. :) Wrote my first story in a notebook when I was twelve, no OTP though then, it was rather Mary Sue-ish. ^^ Then we got our first computer, and I had moved on to DS9. More stories, now on computer, still no OTP but lots of h/c. Then we got internet in 1996, and I was having some sort of epiphany – there was this world-wide phenomenon called fanfiction! I was not alone! An amazing discovery! Saw my first slashfic at that time, Garak/Bashir, and I was 16 and all like ‘ewww’ and backed away from it (so that was probably my first NOTP).

Being a Tolkien fan for years I easily fell for the LOTR films later and wrote FF for that and published my first stories. Arwen/Aragorn was my first fandom OTP I guess. Saw more slashfic, Legolas/Aragorn, and I was still not convinced, but I read one. While I never shipped that pairing, slashfic in general suddenly started to look appealing. Well, and today I say “all I’ve learnt about sex, I’ve learnt from fanfic”, because those years were really educational… ;)

Next fandom was Stargate Atlantis (OTP McShep), my online fan-life started in earnest then with the Gateworld forum and LJ, then Torchwood (OTP Ianto/Jack), then Sherlock (OTP Johnlock). And here I am now, in the Kingsman fandom, with Hartwin and Merhartwin being my OTPs.

Now @hartwin-af

1. Who are your favourite artists/actors/fictional characters?

I admire Viggo Mortensen both as an actor and as an artist. And Colin Firth has been one of my favourite actors for many years. Closely followed by Chris Pine and Matt Damon. I also think Meryl Streep is a goddess.

Fav fictional characters: Aragorn, Sherlock, Mr Darcy and tons of others, among them right now Harry Hart :)

2. What are your favourite tv shows/movies?

Fav TV shows from the past: Star Trek DS9, Torchwood, MASH, SGA, Sherlock, Flying Doctors, Diagnosis Murder, Queer as folk

Recent TV shows: Agents of shield, Poldark, The Handmaid’s tale

3. What/Who do you fear?

Dying alone

4. What are you looking forward to the most?

At the moment my summer holiday and Kingsman 2.

5. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

The acceptance of ignorance you see nowadays. It’s ok to lack knowledge, but one shouldn’t be proud of it. It’s no badge of honour to boast about. There’s something you don’t know – go and look it up.

6. If you could make one thing canon in your fandom, what would it be?

DAISY UNWIN

7. Do you hoard usernames? 

Nope. In fact I’m known for having the same username for decades and almost everywhere…

8. Coke or Pepsi? Tea or Coffee? KFC or McDonald’s? 

If at all, Coke. Coffee, with tea being a close second. McDonald’s, but rather Burger King!

9. What would make today better?

Less humidity. Apart from that it’s been a pretty fine day. :) 

10. What’s your favourite scent?

Privet when it’s in bloom.

11. What’s your proudest achievement?

Finishing my university degree (MA)

And @spockri

1)  Are you a morning person or a night owl? 

100% night owl

2) What is your OTP (and you can only pick 1!) and why? 

Currently Hartwin. It just… happened. Love the fact that they’re so different and yet so similar, and that there’s tons of chemistry between them.

3) What is your favorite thing about Colin Firth? 

His smile. Absolutely.

4) What’s your favorite book and how would you recommend it to someone who’s never heard of it? 

That is in fact Atwood’s “The handmaid’s tale” and has been for years. I would recommend it as a book that’s become scarily relevant again in the light of the current political situation in the US.

5) Where is your favorite place to read? 

Used to be my bed, but the older I get, the less comfortable it becomes. So today it’s my desk chair. And Parliament Hill when I’m in London.

6) What was your last impulse buy? 

Clothes. I have way too many clothes… send help! Or Livia Firth, so that she can rip me a new one. Or Colin so that he can rip my clothes off… ok, wait, I need to stop.

7) What is/was your favorite subject in school? 

That was English and Art

8) Are you an introvert or extrovert? 

Introvert, INFJ. And an HSP. 

9) Do you have any trips/vacations planned this year? 

Most likely London again in August, and a short trip within Germany to visit two wonderful friends in October

10) What would you do if you saw Colin Firth walking on the other side of the street from you? 

In my dreams I’d work up the courage to walk over to him and smile and say hello and ask politely for an autograph… depends on the situation though. So in reality I’d most likely try not to bother him to respect his privacy and just stare at him from afar… while silently hyperventilating

11) I probably know you because we’re both into Kingsman, so when did you first watch Kingsman and what drew you to it?

When it came out I saw many posts about it on my tumblr dash and had no idea what it’s about. Thought it must be a big thing though and decided to watch it one day, but ignored it then on tumblr in order not to spoiler myself accidentally. It was on my list for a while and I finally bought the DVD in November 2016. Watched it with my parents. Was hooked in a second. This rarely happens to me, but I liked that the movie didn’t take itself overly serious but was still believable, and that the story had no loose ends. Also, suits and Savile Row (love a man in a good suit), and Colin Firth. Sold. The rest is history.

- - - - - 

Now, eleven questions from me, just in case anyone still wants to do this and isn’t sick of this meme already. :)

1)      What did you want to become as a child, and what did you become?

2)      If you were allowed to dress your favourite actor however you’d like, who would it be and what would she/he look like afterwards?

3)      Did you ever cry while reading a book or watching a film, and if yes, when was the last time that happened and why?

4)      What is your favourite piece of jewellery that you own?

5)      If you could invent and play any kind of yet non-existent role in an existent movie, who would you like to be?

6)      You have to share a room with a Kingsman character for one night. Who will it be and why?

7)      Did you have a comfort toy as a child and if yes, what happened to it?

8)      What is the colour/design of your bedclothes?

9)      What was your happiest fandom moment so far?

10)   The last film you saw in the cinema

11)   You invite your favourite fictional character for dinner and you’re having pizza. They say it’s your choice – what kind of pizza would you order for them?

You all probably did that already, I’m sorry!!

@agentdagonet @ripgalahad @jeherion @jesspaw @londongypsy @letmecomealong @galahadthelate @solarrift @lady-mephistopheles @fideliant @deepdarkwaters