#i want to be in the bed sous vide!!!!!!!

[whoslaurapalmer]

goddamn where's that post about the going to bed sous vide

[mortarpestle]

ortolan

Short piece with professional chef!sukuna and younger kitchen porter reader. Title taken from the very brutal and illegal French delicacy of the same name, which one must hide their face to eat.

word count: 1.7k

*no curses au, age gap (chefkuna is in his 30s and reader is in their early 20s), employer-employee power imbalance, petnames ("kid", "brat"), Sukuna is intense, reader smokes right off the bat and is…a lil grim and unexpectedly Freudian?? Idk what happened here, suggestive themes ahead.

An angry red flake falls off the tip of your cigarette. It sways and loses some of its brightness on its way to the ground, succumbing to a puddle next to your feet. There's a couple more puffs left before you inevitably reach the filter, maybe double that amount if you're frugal with it. A few stolen breaths to catch until dinner rush.

You hate this fucking job.

You also know that by the time you clock out and return to your apartment, you’ll collapse on your bed with the prospect of a new shift working your nerves into a frenzy. Talk about an abusive relationship. Effectively stockholm syndromed by cutting boards and sous vides—and your boss.

Sukuna seems to have that effect on people.

Behind you, the back door creaks open. Heavy footsteps stamp down the stairs, coming to a stop by your makeshift ashtray. For a few precious seconds you’re content with counting the flour spots staining his black clogs (expensive brand, sleek, better than yours). He smells like his food; spicy, complex and a little smoky. The perks of working 14 hour shifts at a restaurant with high end cuisine and an even higher tax bracket among its customers, is that you’re afforded the luxury of smelling like a human being. No deep frier mystery oil notes clinging onto skin and clothes for you and especially him. You stifle a rather unsavoury thought about his cologne and inhale bitter smoke.

"You'll fry your lungs with that shit, kid."

Despite the distance, he sounds closer than you’d like, closer than you can handle having him. You don’t mean to shiver. Or for him to notice.

"That's the plan."

Every word coming out of your mouth makes you more conscious of your worldliness. Primarily your lack thereof. Speaking to your boss never ceases to make you seem like a peevish child in comparison. The little nickname he insists on using just for you doesn’t help either.

Sukuna doesn’t reply and your stomach churns.

"You don't smoke...why are you out here." You continue, painfully aware of your appearance.

"Don’t get it twisted. I should be the one asking you that. I can think of ten different things you should be doing before traffic picks up instead of getting cozy by the trash.”

The buildup sweat from the kitchen stovetops is slowly settling over your skin. Seated on one of the plastic crates left by your local produce supplier, you feel like a proper rat. What a picture to paint for the man singlehandedly responsible for funding your life.

Getting back to work is the lesser of the two evils you’re presented with. Still, one more smoke before shift's end sounds like a dream. You slip a stick out of the tobacco case tucked inside your apron pocket, taking his silence as permission to light it between your lips.

You smile.

"What's your vice, boss?"

Sukuna clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He doesn't seem too offended. After working under him for nearly a year you've come to find that Sukuna is a man who is hard to surprise and equally as tricky to offend. Good at hiding it too, when he wants to. Which is why you ask again, be it a bad idea or not.

"Everybody has one. I've never met a professional chef without a few loose screws, so what is it?" Maybe you could've phrased that last better. You're too tired to care.

He mulls over your question without really giving into it. He’s awfully compliant today. Normally he would've chewed your ear off at the second cigarette.

Something’s off.

"I trust you include yourself in that crowd you speak of."

“Not really. I’m not a professional.”

(Ash stings your fingertips, but you refuse to let go.)

"You've got potential." He says, low and succinct.

You choke on your spit, laughing in earnest, "Sure.” Potential for cutting vegetables and cleaning after other people’s messes, maybe.

"I mean it, kid."

Sukuna leans against the railing, arms folding over his chest. One long glance out of the corner of your eye grants you with an intimate view of his tattoos. All these months you've been catching glimpses of the full design, unable to tell where it ends beneath the black fabric. Not a single hair is out of place. His uniform is rolled up just above his elbows, exposing tanned skin with tiny burn marks littered over hard muscle, no doubt from his early training years. He wears them like medals of honour.

The first thing you did after landing a position in his kitchen was googling his name. Ryomen Sukuna is fifteen years older than you and begrudgingly, the only thing standing between you and quitting as soon as tomorrow.

You’re no stranger to unwanted urges, the occasional intrusive thought. It’s human, you are human and therefore unjustly robbed of any sovereignty over your unconscious and its whims. You don’t think much of it. Even when you take your rare bathroom breaks outside peak hours, only to find that you’ve soaked through your underwear just from glances and strict instructions thrown your way. What does that say about you as a person? You don’t intend to figure it out today.

It's a classic case of treating the symptoms and not the source of your disease. Pretending he doesn’t exist outside of the physical place you both work at won’t get you very far. It won’t take long for the tide to turn over. Sukuna doesn’t play with his food. Only with the people tasked with preparing it.

You tug at a stray piece of lint on your chest, playing with the cotton ball over the flame of your lighter.

"If boss says it."

"Don't call me that." he all but sneers at you over your shoulder. His voice is grating when he wants it to be. You don’t flinch, not even when you turn around to catch the stare he’s drilling into your slouched back. On a second thought you don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of it since he he stepped out to join you. His stare is violence. He makes you want to crawl out of your own skin for comfort.

Working within a kitchen hierarchy is much like having a father; you get used to raised voices and empty threats whether you like it or not. With Sukuna creeping around the counters, you also learn to not talk back if you know what’s best for you. You consider yourself lucky to have never stood on the receiving end of anything more severe than a scolding. Then again, you’re not important enough in the grand scheme of it all, and you make a point to take advantage of that as often as you can.

"Are you not?" you sneer back.

"I'm quitting," Sukuna bares his teeth at you, "Expected to be gone by next week."

You bet he’s enjoying the look on your face. Surprised stupid.

"Pick your jaw up off the ground, s'not a good look on you."

You collect your thoughts and try to convince him that this doesn’t change everything for you. "Can I have your knives? The fancy Japanese ones you keep inside the office safe."

"You better keep your mouth shut and listen to what I have to say before I change my mind you brat." His voice commands you to look at him, "I'm not retiring. I'm opening my own joint and I want you to join me."

You feel nauseous.

"Why."

You've never been one to count your blessings, mainly because it's not worth doing so when you can do it on only one hand. Everyone says your early 20s are hell, the trenches of adulthood. No second-hand warnings and half assed attempts at lukewarm life lessons could've prepared you for the slump you hit after graduating college. Money is tight as it's always been, only now you've got twice the amount of problems and half the support.

The job advertisement was a beacon of good luck amidst a sea of bad decisions.

You had to fight tooth and nail to get through the first week (hell week, objectively the worst time in any hospitality job) without any power or warm water in your apartment after missing the payment deadline. Sukuna noticed—not like it was hard to, given that you looked like shit fresh into your employment—and slid you an early paycheck tucked inside an envelope on lunch break. A week's worth of dailies in an employment contract that only guarantees monthly wages.

You could cry.

(You did. In front of him.)

(He looked so distraught he almost snatched it back.)

"You're good, honest. Smart yet a little stupid, but even that's necessary to get by in the business. Like I said you have potential and I want you in my kitchen when you see it through."

"I think," you start.

Sukuna gives you a sly smile, mumbling a barely audible “Is that so” with his eyes narrowed down to slits.

"—You're only doing this out of spite. Stealing Gojo's staff is dirty work."

"Started that sentence on the wrong foot. You think I’d sabotage my own shit just to get back at that fraud? Most of the guys he's got back there working for him don't even know how to grill chicken without fucking up."

Yes. Yes, you do believe he’d do that, but opt to keep the thought to yourself. You’re sure Sukuna would kill the guy if he were guaranteed to get away with it. Gojo is an angel investor in name and nothing else.

"I'll give you a week, no more no less. Sit on it, let it marinade in that little head of yours and have your answer ready by morning shift." He pushes off the railing to take his leave. Halfway up the steps he backtracks to reach you, snatches the cigarette out of your fingers and takes a long drag, draining the leftover tobacco inside the poorly rolled paper. After he's done, he licks his lips and kisses his front teeth to taste your saliva, humming in satisfaction.

Kicking away the crate, you get up on baby fawn legs, half numb from being folded over yourself for so long. They tremble, a blink and you’ll miss it movement. Sukuna’s limp hand twitches by his side.

He’s about to leave for good when you speak again, moving towards him.

"You never answered my question.”

What's your vice?

Sukuna stumps your cigarette on the brick wall next to your head. His words are low, barely audible over the commotion slipping through the open door.

"Be good and I might just show you in practice."

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 4552

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con bordering on non-con, ignoring of sexual boundaries

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

7. Sous Vide

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Steve

For the first twenty-four hours, Steve alternates between crying, screaming, and sometimes even laughing. And his thoughts run a gamut twice as large.

8 hours in: This can’t be happening. Steve is so fucking stupid. He deserves what he gets. He’s not ready to die. He should find a way to kill himself. Maybe he can seduce James into letting him go.

12 hours in: Fuck James! Steve’s going to kill him. He doesn’t know how, but he is totally going to murder the shit out of him! What’s in the room, there must be something that he can use…

16 hours: Why is there NOTHING in this room that is useful?! Fuck, he’s screwed. Why did Steve have to go snooping in the basement? He can’t believe he was actually attracted to a serial killer. He fucked a serial killer. What does that say about him? Clint wouldn’t have fallen for this shit. Fuck. Steve never texted him. Ha—he won’t know where to send the cops to find his body after all.

18 hours: Is he going to go insane? Maybe. Maybe it’ll be better if he does. Which part of him will James try to cut off first? Steve thinks he’d rather keep his arms than his legs. If he had to choose that is. Who was that woman in the other cell? What did she lose first? Why isn’t she answering him when he yells out? Can she not hear him? Maybe she’s just crazy. How long has she been here? How long is Steve going to be here before he dies? Oh god, he doesn’t want to wind up like her!

20 hours: That must’ve been human meat up in the fridge. And Steve asked Bucky to make dinner with it. A rump roast. They would’ve been eating somebody’s ass for dinner.

24 hours: Holy fucking shit, is he ever stupid.

“Can I get you anything?” James asks him the third time he visits.

The first time he’d come, Steve had screamed and thrown hysterics until it drove James away.

The second time, he’d done nothing but cry softly and beg to be let go, as James told him what it is he does for a living.

The third time he just sits there and stares like a zombie. James doesn’t seem to like that. He comes over and feels Steve’s forehead, takes his pulse. Steve gasps and jerks away, huddling himself into the corner. James lets him go with a sad expression. “You need to try and calm down, honey,” he says. “I hate to see you suffering.”

Steve stares at him with wide eyes. “Are you gonna kill me?” he asks. He’s been thinking about it all day and night. He can’t get the image of that woman out of his head. “Are you gonna…” eat me?

James is shaking his head. “No, Steve. I told you: I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve blinks. He only has fuzzy memories of the last two visits. He knows that James had stayed, especially that second time, knows that he’d sat and talked to Steve. But Steve is having a hard time remembering all the facts. He’d been out of his mind with emotion, not taking it all in. “I don’t remember,” he murmurs, nervous. “I… I don’t remember everything you said.”

James smiles sadly at him. “Okay. That’s understandable.” He goes and sits down on a metal stool that’s connected to the floor. It’s part of a little vanity set that Steve is unable to reach from his chained position by the bed. Steve’s got no clue why it’s there, if he can’t even reach it. He’s spent time wondering if the mirror is glass, and if he could break it and use a shard of it to murder James. “I’ll answer any questions you have,” James is offering amicably, breaking Steve out of his murderous thoughts. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t want to die,” Steve whispers.

“You’re not going to die,” James tells him, a little exasperation creeping into his voice. “Stevie, you’re not listening: I am not going to kill you. I didn’t bring you here for work.”

Work. Steve rolls the word over in his mind. James is a serial killer. He kills people and eats them. Well, mostly he sells their meat to other people to eat them. But that doesn’t make it any better! Steve tries to read James’ face for a lie. He doesn’t believe him when he says he’s not going to kill Steve. Of course he’s going to kill Steve. He has to, now that Steve knows his secret.

Steve is so fucking stupid.

“Just… just do it fast,” Steve begs. He thinks of the limbless woman several cells down. He doesn’t know if she’s still alive. He hopes not. “Do it all at once, please. Don’t… don’t make me like her.”

James looks pained. “I know you don’t believe me, honey. But in time you’ll see. I really didn’t mean for you to wind up down here.” He smiles softly at him, which is equal parts sweet and disturbing. “I really do care for you Steve. I was looking forward to what we could have together. I still am. We can get past this, and in the end it’ll only have made our relationship stronger.”

Steve stares. James really means it. He actually thinks they’re still going to be boyfriends. Steve remembers that conversation they’d had in the car, how happy he’d been when James had taken his hand and confirmed their relationship status. Steve thinks of all the personal things he’s told James, all the times they’ve made love, laughed with each other; he thinks of how much he’d come to feel for James. Fuck, it’s awful. Steve feels betrayed. His Mr. Right is a cannibal serial killer. It’s not fucking fair. “I’m not ever going to be with you again,” he tells him blankly. He can’t believe he actually has to explain this. “James, you eat people.”

James sighs like that’s small potatoes. “I’m still me. I’m still that guy you met at the grocery store.”

Steve blinks, thinking about their encounter in the meat department, James holding out the package of venison with an expression of disgust and proclaiming himself a vegetarian. The hilarity of it hits Steve all of a sudden, and he starts to giggle.

James is watching him with a look of concern. “Steve?”

Steve shakes his head, the laughter growing and growing, and he keeps laughing until he folds over with it. It turns into a sob. He squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed. “Sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Sorry, I just… I’m panicking, a little.”

It’s quiet for a long moment, and then Steve gasps as the mattress dips and James is right there, pulling him into his arms. Steve struggles, pushing against him. “No!”

But James hushes him and hugs him tightly, and Steve can’t get away. “Shh sh sh,” James says. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, Steve. I know. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll see. It’s all going to be just fine.”

It really isn’t, but Steve doesn’t know what else to do besides cry. James holds him through it and eventually lays him down on the mattress, kissing his tear stained cheek. “Rest,” he murmurs, and he gets up and leaves.

The fourth time James comes into his cell, Steve has formed a loose plan. He’s not going to panic anymore. He’s going to be productive. He’s going to gain James’ trust, make him believe that Steve loves him and won’t run away. Then, when he gets his chance, he’ll kill James and escape. There’s no other option. This is what he has to do.

“Hey,” James says, looking cautious as he swipes the keycard that unlocks the room’s slatted door. He slides it open and steps inside. He’s got another tray of food. “Brought you some lunch.”

Steve watches as he sets the tray onto the floor and gives it a push towards him. His stomach rumbles loudly—he hasn’t eaten since James locked him in here. The first few meals got thrown in fits of rage and desperation, the ones after that simply ignored and refused. But Steve obviously isn’t the first captive to try going on a hunger strike, and James has kept patiently bringing trays for every mealtime. Now Steve has a new game plan, and he pulls the tray over and picks up the silicone spoon (not even plastic utensils. This guy really is careful). He looks over the food and then glances at James. “...This is all… it’s vegetarian, right?” he checks.

James knows what he’s really asking, and he nods. “Yeah. Just chicken noodle,” he says gently.

Steve decides to believe him. He brings a spoonful of the soup to his lips, blows on it, swallows. It’s not bad, and he’s 99.9% sure that those are chunks of chicken floating in the broth.

James takes a seat on the metal stool and watches him eat the meal. “You’re calmer today,” he observes.

Steve shrugs, playing it cool. “Yeah,” he simply says. “I had time to think it over.”

“Yeah?” James sounds hopeful. “Okay. That’s good. Do you need anything?”

He asks that every time he visits Steve. So far Steve has only ever yelled or cried or remained totally silent in response. “Books?” he says this time, meeting James’ eyes. James looks surprised. “I don’t know how long I’ve been down here,” Steve says. “It gets boring.”

James smiles tentatively. “Just a little over a day, now. Yeah, honey. I can bring you books.”

“Okay,” Steve says. He goes on eating the soup. There’s a little hunk of a baguette with it. He tears off a piece and dips it into the broth, pops it into his mouth and chews. “Thank you.”

James leaves shortly after that, and within what feels like a few hours, Steve is supplied with a whole cart full of books. “I didn’t know what you liked,” James says sheepishly as Steve looks over the titles. “Hope this is good enough.”

“It’s great,” Steve says. He actually wasn’t expecting so many, or such a good selection. “Thank you.”

James looks very pleased. He takes a step closer and leans down, reaches out like he’ll touch him. Steve flinches and James’ face falls.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, cursing himself for the reaction. “I’m sorry James. This is just…” he sighs. “It’s scary, you know?”

James nods. “Bucky,” he says.

“What?”

“Bucky.” He comes close again and kneels down. He takes Steve’s hand in his. It’s the one that’s chained to the floor. “My name.”

“Your name isn’t James?” Steve doesn’t know why he finds that so disappointing. It shouldn’t matter, but he’d hoped that he’d at least been getting to know the real man, before the other shoe dropped. Apparently not. It just figures that the one decent guy Steve manages to meet would turn out to be a psycho.

“No, it is. James Buchanan Barnes,” James says. “My sister started it, back when we were kids. She couldn’t say Buchanan, so,” he shrugs. “Bucky.”

Steve gapes. “Wait, you really do have a sister? You weren’t just making that up?”

James—or Bucky, apparently—looks hurt. “No, I wasn’t making it up. I never lied to you, Steve.”

Steve can’t help it, he laughs meanly. “Yeah right. You said there was nothing down here but storage,” he snaps, yanking his hand back from Bucky’s grip. “You’re a serial killer!”

“I didn’t lie to you about who I am,” Bucky says sternly. “I’m still the same person, Steve. Everything we had together was real. It still is.” He puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder and grips him. “I still care about you.”

Steve swallows heavily, wondering if his face is neutral. He’s trying to keep it that way, but it’s hard when all he feels is horror, disappointment and disgust. At least he’s managed not to yank himself away from Bucky’s grip on him. “Bucky,” he says, trying the name out. It seems to fit, and James looks very pleased when he uses it. Steve nods. “Okay. Bucky it is.”

Bucky smiles. “I knew you were special,” he says happily. But when Steve doesn’t react, he gets despondent again. “I didn’t want this for you,” he says, releasing Steve’s shoulder. “I wanted us to be happy together.”

Steve frowns. “How was that going to work?” he asks. “Don’t you think I would’ve found out about this eventually?”

Bucky nods. “Well yeah. But not like this. I was going to tell you, eventually. But I was gonna break it to you slowly.”

Steve fights the urge to laugh like a maniac. “Oh? How does one break that kind of news slowly?”

“I know it’s a lot. And it’s shocking.”

“Gee, you think?” Steve quips.

Bucky laughs, Steve’s levity putting him at ease. He sits down on the floor, crossing his legs. “It's so different from what people think. God, if you only knew, Steve. Knew what it was really like.”

Steve shivers at how dreamily Bucky says that. He has to work up the courage to say, “Tell me?”

Bucky looks surprised that he’s asking, but then his eyes sharpen on him, evaluating. He’s suspicious. “Why do you want to know?” he asks.

Steve shrugs and tries to act like it’s no big deal. “I dunno. Just curious I guess. What it tastes like, why you even want to do it.” He peeks up at Bucky. “Why do you?”

For a moment, it doesn’t seem like Bucky’s going to answer. But then he says, “It’s not just about food, or eating. It’s…” he pauses, staring at Steve in an evaluating way, like he’s not sure Steve will get it. “It’s about giving,” he eventually says, watching Steve carefully. “Giving yourself over to somebody. Becoming one with somebody else, forever. And that’s…” he shakes his head, reverent. “That’s a beautiful thing. That’s surrender. That’s true intimacy.”

Steve gulps, suddenly hoping that his lunch stays down for this conversation. “But…” he breathes. “But they don’t do it willingly.”

Bucky’s eyes lose their gleam. He looks away. “No,” he says quietly. “No, they don’t.” He doesn’t expound on that, and Steve doesn’t dare to ask any more questions. Bucky sighs and moves on. “As for how it tastes, well…” the corners of his mouth curl up, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, it’s terrifying. “If it’s done right? It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted before. It’s fucking exquisite.”

Steve thinks of the story Bucky had told, about the villagers in China; the mystery meat. He knows now that it must’ve been true. That was probably the first time Bucky had ever tasted human flesh. And he’d liked it. Steve shivers. “And you know lots of other people who do this?” he asks. "Enough to run a whole business off of?"

A cannibal cabal, Christ.

Bucky nods. “My clients; they like to eat women, specifically. Because it’s a sexual thing for them, you know?” He shrugs. “I don’t think women actually taste better, but whatever. I’m here to satisfy the customer.” He tilts his head and squints at Steve. “You know, if you wanted to try it…”

“No,” Steve says, knowing that his acting abilities don’t extend that far. He shakes his head. “I can’t. Please.”

Bucky looks disappointed, but he accepts it. “Okay,” he says softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you.” He moves closer, kneeling right in front of Steve and looking at him tenderly. He puts both hands on his shoulders. Steve fights not to recoil. “Steve,” Bucky says softly, voice full of emotion. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I wish I could have you upstairs with me, I really do. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Steve swallows dryly. “What are you gonna do?”

Bucky stares at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he leans in and kisses him on the mouth. He pulls back and watches Steve’s expression. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “I want to keep you, I do. I don't want to have to hurt you. I want to date you, like we were doing.”

Steve shivers under Bucky’s scrutiny. This guy is whacked. “...But?” he asks.

Bucky shakes his head sadly. He pulls back and rises to his feet. “I don’t know,” he says. “I just don’t know.” He walks back over to the door. “I’ve always dreamed of finding someone who I could share this with, you know? Someone I could really trust and share absolutely everything with. Because it gets lonely, ya know? Having this part of myself that I can’t share with a partner."

Steve stares, incredulous at Bucky’s capacity for delusion. “You said you were married,” he says, suddenly remembering. “What happened to him?” Bucky’s expression shutters and he looks away, and that’s all the answer that Steve needs. “You killed him,” Steve whispers, horrified.

Bucky turns away. “I told you we didn’t see eye to eye on things. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “So you ate him?”

“No,” Bucky says sharply, looking back over his shoulder at Steve with something like resentment. “I would never eat someone I loved.”

Steve starts to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Not without their consent.”

Steve’s eyes bug out of his head.

Bucky shakes his head as he notices Steve’s expression. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be different with us. You'll see. It’ll take time, I know that now. But maybe in the long run it’s good that you found out this soon. Now we can just work on moving past it.”

Steve blinks at him. Keep your face calm, keep your face calm, don’t make a face, relaxrelaxrelax—

Bucky sighs and steps out of the cell. “I’ll be back later with your dinner, okay?” He slides the door shut. The electric keypad beeps. He gives Steve one last bittersweet look of affection through the wooden slats. “Try to relax. Get some rest. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Steve watches him leave, hears him take the steps back upstairs, opening and closing the door up there, more electronic locks beeping. Once Steve’s positive that he’s alone again, he inhales hugely and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Fuck,” he whispers, overwhelmed. This is not going to be easy.

Bucky

Bucky finds himself feeling melancholy as the day wears on. He thinks about Ian a lot, remembers how his husband had looked at him like he was a monster, when Bucky had finally confided his deepest secret. It was like watching a Manchurian candidate switch on; like the past three years hadn’t happened and he’d never even loved Bucky at all.

To feel better, he pulls some of Melissa for dinner, seasoning and cooking the meat sous vide. He lights the tall candlesticks on the dining room table in her honor and eats slowly, thinking about how she’d smiled up at him, that last time. She’d told Bucky that she was ready, that she knew she was crazy and Bucky could finally end it. He’d promised her he would. And then she’d smiled and cried and asked him for a kiss before she slipped under.

Bucky thinks it’s pretty fucked up, that he kissed her. Maybe even more fucked up than the fact that he’s sitting here eating her with a garlic velouté. But he can't help it. He loves the ones that find acceptance in the end. Melissa had been beautiful to him, then. Willingness is the ultimate fantasy, of course, but that's something which Bucky has come to realize he'll probably never get.

He sighs, sipping his glass of wine. It’s Sunday evening. He was supposed to be sharing a meal with Steve right now, laughing over stupid jokes and learning more about each other. Growing closer. Setting the stage for a future where he could finally be truly intimate with the person he loved.

Bucky’s so upset that this is how it’s played out. Melissa doesn’t even taste that good, his stomach churning the more he ruminates about it. He sets his fork down and rubs his forehead in stress, thinking of Steve. Fuck, he doesn’t want to lose him.

After dinner he sends a tray down in the dumbwaiter, carrying another. He passes Steve’s room and hears him call out, but Bucky doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want Steve to have to know any more about Eileen than is strictly necessary. She’s a horrible person, and Steve shouldn’t have to deal with her. Bucky sits Eileen up and feeds her her dinner, not bothering to talk to her. She’s teetering on the edge, he can tell. If he’s lucky, she’ll go catatonic. Then he won’t even have to make conversation. He wipes her mouth and asks her if she has to use the bathroom.

No answer.

He lays her back down, covering her with the blanket. She’s just depressing him now. Bucky takes a good, long look at her when he’s standing back at the door to her room, admiring his work and what he’s reduced her to. “Do you know why I did this to you?” he asks her, in an uncharacteristically morbid mood. “Hm?”

Slowly, she turns her head to look at him. She doesn’t say anything, which pisses Bucky off.

“It’s because you’re the lowest level of human scum. A mother’s supposed to protect her children, not offer them up for the slaughter.”

She blinks at him. “So you slaughtered me.”

He nods.

“How did I taste?”

Bucky shrugs. “Average.” He’s long since abandoned the notion that a person’s moral fiber affects their taste. It doesn’t. Bucky’s clients are romantic. They like to think that sex and age and race make a difference, but the sad fact of the matter is that underneath their skin, people are all the same—meat. “I dressed you up with a really nice red wine reduction,” he tells her, more to try and fuck with her emotions than anything else. “If that makes you feel better.”

“Why not him?” she asks, and Bucky knows who she means.

“Because you’re her mother!” he growls. “The one person a child is supposed to be able to count on, no matter what!” Not that he hadn’t considered taking the boyfriend, too, but that was a lot more work, and he’d never make a profit on a male anyways. “How can you even live with yourself? How could you let him in your home?!”

She infuriates him further by not caring. “I worked with what I had,” she says.

Bucky sees red. He immediately leaves the room and goes to grab a syringe of potassium chloride. “You’re done,” he tells her, then finds a vein and pushes. He watches as her heart stops and the light fades from her eyes.

Like always, he’s not as satisfied by the death as he wants. He doesn’t think he ever will be.

He’s not in the mood to harvest her, so he puts her on the cart and wheels her into the walk-in fridge, leaving her there to be dealt with later. He’ll send out an email tomorrow to see if he’s got any takers on fresh organ meats or ribs. Sometimes he gets lucky and can hock the entrails at full price.

If not, oh well. He’ll just make a nice paté.

Steve is reading a book when Bucky brings his dinner in. “Hey,” Bucky says, setting the tray down next to the mattress and taking a seat on the floor. He looks Steve over. He seems calm enough, which Bucky likes. “What are you reading?”

“Atlas Shrugged. You have a very well-rounded library,” he tells him. Then he catches sight of Bucky’s face and he looks him over more closely. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky’s lips twitch. “How do you know anything’s wrong?”

“I can tell,” he says simply. “You’re upset.”

Bucky stares at him, but eventually he huffs and gives up, looking away. “Eileen’s done,” he says. “It’s just you down here, now.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “You… you killed her?”

“Yeah.” Bucky sees him react. The kid is afraid. “Steve, I told you I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he mutters. “But here I am, chained up in your basement.”

Bucky snorts and looks away. “Yeah. Touché.”

They’re both quiet then. Eventually Steve reaches for half of the turkey sandwich Bucky’s prepared for him. He lifts the top piece of bread and then looks to Bucky with a dubious eyebrow raised. “It’s ‘vegetarian’,” Bucky says, putting quotes on the word to let Steve know he means “people-free.”

Steve takes a bite so big that Bucky can’t help but feel warmed by how it means that Steve is trusting him. Steve chews and says, “What are you going to do with me?”

God, isn’t that the fucking dilemma of the year? Bucky shakes his head, frowning at the tray between them. “I don’t know.”

“...You could take me back upstairs,” Steve suggests. Bucky’s eyes shoot back up, alarmed. “Just to hang out!” Steve adds hastily. “We could spend time together, but then you could always put me back down here.”

Bucky sighs. Steve’s a smart cookie, he’ll give him that. “No,” he tells him. “You’re just trying to escape.”

“I’m not. I—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Steve shuts up abruptly, and Bucky feels bad for having snapped. He clenches his jaw and looks away. He hates seeing Steve afraid of him. “You shouldn’t have snuck down here, Steve,” he grumbles, pissed, because Steve has ruined everything. Bucky was so excited to finally get to be with someone, to start anew and do it right this time. But now they can’t even have that.

Really, he’s not even angry at Steve. He’s angry at himself. He’s never, ever left the door to the basement unlocked. It was a freak accident and it’s ruined all his plans. “Fuck,” he curses quietly, slapping his hand down onto the carpeted floor in frustration. He closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He feels so lost.

Before he knows it, he feels an arm wrapping around him. Steve has moved to his side and is trying to hold him comfortingly.

Bucky looks over, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmurs. “I’m sorry I went and messed it up. …I really did like you, before.”

Bucky’s heart constricts. “You did?” he asks, wanting to hear him say it again.

“Yeah.” Steve says, his voice so sad, like he’s lost all hope of ever finding someone to love, now. “I did.”

Bucky knows that he has to show Steve that they can still be together, that the important things haven’t changed. “I’m still me, Steve,” he promises. “And you’re still you. And we’re here together. We can still make it work.”

Steve makes a noise of protest, but Bucky hushes him. “I’m going to show you,” he says, already thinking about how he’ll do it. “You’ll see.” Steve’s face is doubtful as Bucky gets up, but Bucky is motivated now. He isn’t going to let Steve become just another captive. He’s going to make him see. He’s going to make him his.

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[contentment-of-cats]

A day to read and eat.

When I trimmed the duck to put in the sous vide, I took out the innards, neck, and spine and cooked those to feed to the kitties. Duck is very rich, and the girls have been rendered immobile by their special treat. As for me, my internal clock wakes me up at go to work time, I do my morning exercises, and then I get to go back to bed for a while.

Warfare nearly broke out over somebody's car horn getting stuck at around 4:00 this morning. Here's another thing that I am grateful for, enough sound masking that I can go back to sleep.

The duck and the potatoes are rich enough that all I am having with them is a Caesar salad. I rethought the whole dessert thing, not wanting to have something heavy and rich after such a meal. I thought about anything pumpkin, or anything brownies. I made an apple cobbler not too long ago and wanted something different. I decided on a lemon cream tart made with lemon curd, light and fluffy and whipped, with a dusting of ginger snap crumbs.

Otherwise today gets to be nothing but reading and writing, napping and cuddling kitty cats. I have some calls to make later in the day when the hour is more civilized. It's another day to be alive and I am thankful.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #55

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. This is the conclusion to Brain Curd #54, so please read that first.

Grace poured water into the glass in front of Brenadine, stopping exactly a half inch from the rim. She pulled back the pitcher and held it steadily, just as she was trained to.

“Would you like anything else to drink this evening?”

“Hmmm.” Brenadine leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the table. “I drove here, so I think I’ll start with just two beers.”

Grace screamed internally.

“You know what, though? I’m ready to order my whole meal.”

Grace tilted her head. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to wait for the rest of your party?”

“Nah. They’re all the type for sushi and gazpacho. Won’t touch hot foods with a twenty-foot fork. Whatever ya got in the walk-in that’s safe to eat cold, they’ll just have that. For me, though, I want the five courses of the day.”

Grace looked side to side, saw no one was looking, and leaned in to whisper. “Madam, you do know the five course meal is over one thousand dollars, do you not?”

Brenadine smirked and looked her in the eye. “I reckon you aren’t even supposed to talk prices at the table… are you?”

“I just wouldn’t want there to be an unpleasant situation later on.”

“You best believe there will be if you don’t give my order to the kitchen.”

Grace stood up straight. “Of course, right away madam.”

She speedwalked to the kitchen and set the pitcher down on the counter. “Table ten wants the five-course. I’ll be back in a minute.” She then went to the bar and filled two glasses with their finest beer. Grace figured if money was no object for Brenadine, she’d at the very least puff up the minimum gratuity.

Grace returned to the kitchen and took the plate for the first course: a single smoked quail yolk on a sesame cracker. She arrived at the table with that plate and those two glasses of beer. Brenadine began chugging one immediately and slammed it on the table, punctuating it with a loud belch.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Brenadine slammed back the first course and moaned with pleasure.

Grace stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to stop, but she just kept going. The best way out was to slowly and subtly back away.

Course two: miso-infused sous vide coconut served over a bed of rice, topped with beluga caviar. This was a larger plate than the first - at least two bites for the average person, maybe three - but Bernadine swallowed it practically whole. And the reception was much the same as for the first course - perhaps louder.

Course three: a deconstructed fruit salad aspic selection - in other words, fancy virgin Jell-O shots. Brenadine seemed less interested in this part of her meal. The two beers seemed to have made her a bit introspective.

“Grace, be honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Am I obnoxious?” The false lashes were falling off of her left eye.

“Uh… your fourth course is ready.”

Course four: herb butter basted lamb chop with a rainbow chutney and saffron couscous. Bernadine’s head was on the table.

“Are you alright?” Grace asked.

“No.” Bernadine wiped her nose on the table cloth. “I’m not alright. My husband left me and I’m going to die alone.”

“No… no, you’re not going to die alone. You’ll find someone new.”

“No I won’t. People barely put up with me. I barely put up with most of them.” Tears ran down her cheek. “I loved him, Grace.”

Grace hesitantly rubbed her back with one hand. “It’ll be alright.”

“Maybe. But maybe now I have everything except what matters.” She sniffled. “I should go. I’m ruining the place for everyone else.” Bernadine fished around in her purse for her wallet and pulled out a credit card. “Here,” she threw it on the table. “Keep it.” She got up and walked away, but turned around to say one more thing. “You can have my dessert. Thank you for listening.”

“What about your lamb chop?”

“I’m not hungry.” She waved it away. “Take it.”

Bernadine stumbled away, zig-zagging across the restaurant until she found the curtain which hid the owner’s office. She looked it up and down, pushed it out of her way, and stumbled in. Grace moved to stop her, but Winston held her back by the shoulder. She looked him in the eye, and he nodded.

“Take the rest of the evening off, Grace. Sorry I couldn’t warn you.”

Grace sat down at table ten to eat the fourth course. It was delicious, and certainly more filling than anything else she’d brought to the table that evening, but nevertheless it was fleeting. Winston brought her the final plate.

Course five: a matcha ice cream rose served on a bed of dark chocolate brownie soil. The rose was a contradiction - despite sublimating liquid nitrogen into a thin fog, the outer petals wilted and melted before her eyes - it was too delicate to save from its fate. She took a spoonful to her mouth and savored it: rich, airy, bittersweet.

[unsellingconvenience]

First holiday dinner in our new kitchen? Baguette slices with brie and jam / thinly sliced apple, gouda, and yum yum spoon honey. Traditional messy deviled eggs with kewpie mayo, dijon mustard, and paprika, on a bed of poppy seeds. Sous vide leg of lamb with speasoned garlic rosemary pecan paste made in the Anova Precision Oven (127F at 100% steam for 3 hours, then 475F at 0% steam for 15 minutes to brown, with an extra slice done traditional sous vide at 160F for someone who wanted theirs well done. Served with parboiled roasted baby potatoes with goose fat finished with parsley butter, roasted carrots and asparagus, and a sour cherry balsamic port sauce. Mine had to be cut into bite sized pieces for me because I sliced a piece off my thumb knuckle cutting off the twine (I’ll be fine). Happy Easter to those who celebrate! #dinner #sousvide #anovaprecisionoven #cooking #lamb #easter #sourcherries #deviledeggs

[curejiraiya]

here's my Christmas list of things I won't get but because it's just a list I can put whatever I want:

new twin bedframe

flat brim hats that have nothing to do with fucking splatoon

blue Ita bag

more Hiro pins for said Ita bag

one of those chew toys meant for autistic toddlers (I am currently eating plastic)

mid sized doll bed & blanket for my Mochikororin

the new rainbow live plushies esp Naru but I really love all of them

any and all King of Prism merch esp Over the Rainbow

that Dorachi plush that is always in the PriPara plush section of the one Prism Stone. Idk if they intentionally stock it there but it photobombs all their PriPara merch photos lmao

immersion blender

sous vide (lol the YouTube chefs are getting me so bad)

the physical version of Genki 1 and the Genki 1 workbook. I keep trying to start the textbook but idk my brain doesn't want to with PDFs. but I have been learning Japanese consistently so I probably should start them.

Other pretty series merch lol like just of anyone

anyway for any one of these things I get I will idk do something that I don't want to do but will be a positive influence in my life. uhhh I'll put away an entire box of stuff that is still sitting from when we moved in. yeah.

[trivialbob]

30 minutes ago I woke up to a wonderful, drenching rain. We knew it was coming and slept with A/C off and windows open. Though the rain is heavy, it’s coming straight down. Most of our windows have a healthy amount of roof overhanging them, so they can be open in the rain if there’s no wind.

30 minutes ago I woke up to two puppies wresting on my bed. Maybe the rain got them excited? After a good, sharp “no” from me Sulley and Stella settled down. Briefly. These dogs can go outside on their own, so it’s not like they were trying to get me to let them out.

It was actually past the time I normally get up for work. Today I took PTO and wanted to sleep in. But I got up, pet Ella and Oliver who had remained quiet, made coffee, and listened to the plants and lawn scream in delight at the downpour. Even the driveway and patio must be happy to have the dust washed away. My  anthropomorphic  home.

The two puppies just went back to sleep. Assholes.

Today I plan to clean the garage and run errands. The garage will get done when the rain stops later. I’ve been putting it off for six months, a few more hours won’t hurt.

Yesterday I wanted brats for dinner. I have some $20 gift certificates to Von Hanson’s that we won in a meat raffle. I like brats in the form of patties. The beer and cheddar ones were frozen. I cooked them in the sous vide (150°, two hours) which ensures they are thoroughly cooked, then seared them on the griddle. They were perfect.

To use up a whole gift certificate I added hamburger buns for the brat patties, a frozen chicken pot pie, and two “cherry bomb” brats.

The cherry bomb brats are sausage style. They have cherries and jalapenos in them. I asked a young employee if he’d tried them. He replied yes and liked them. You can definitely taste cherries, he said.

I didn’t want a package of six or eight. The fresh meat counter has some brats in it. I asked if there were any of the cherry bomb brats in there.

The employee sighed ever so slightly. I know why. When I worked at a grocery store some high maintenance people would say things like, “Oh this quart of milk expires in two weeks, I don’t know if I can shop again that soon. Will you see if there is anything fresher in the back?” Everyone else can take from the front of the shelf, but I’m special.

I explained to the employee I just wanted to try two, to see if I liked them. “I don’t care if they’re fresh or frozen.” After that he seemed happy to go in back and weigh and wrap just two for me. They were frozen. He probably just opened a full package and removed two for me.

The patties came in a package of four, like the hamburger buns. Perfect. The hot dog buns only came in six packs, and I know the store won’t sell just two buns. When I cook the cherry bomb brats I’ll end up with extra buns. Then I’ll have to buy more brats or sausages. I wish hamburger and hot dog buns were sold like donuts in a bakery -- priced individually, you can buy one or a dozen.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Wifey has been getting me caught up on one of our favorite youtube news highlights and boy oh boy is it ever a trial on my sanity, like bro I know I've had my head in the books but surely there's only so much I could have missed it's not like I've been under a rock!!!

Nope. 'Pparently not.

I long for the simplicity of my farm. Wake up, feed the chickens, water the garden, clear the land, get the next day's water, cook the dinner, bathe in the creek, and go to bed under the stars listening to the sounds of the forest. I know it was The Bad Times, and it's not like I want them back as they were, but in the future? Done right?

Wake up late, make my tea, feed, water, and milk the animals (goats, alpacas, rabbits, chickens, turkeys, peacocks, guinea fowl, geese, ducks, pigs, and a couple of cows and horses) and have a cigarette and a cuppa while I sit on my porch and prep for client sessions. Look out on my perfect little view of critters.

I'm gonna set up two little pods in opposite corner living spaces of my tea garden, which won't have a line of site to my house, and will ideally be on a piece of property that has it's own address. One is going to be a little office pod with a lovely little half bath, waiting room, and private office for me to work from. I don't know if I'll ever want to go into private practice, but if I do, I want to be prepared. And in the meantime, I can use it as a little breakroom for myself while seeing clients telehealth through the practice I work for. The other is going to be a lovely little 4 season meditation room. Maybe I can hold classes! Meditation for the non-meditator, lmao

So I see clients on the swing shift, do the finishing touches on the dinner I prepped the night before (in this world I do a lot of sous vide and crock pot and slow bake cooking, the infrequent shoving something in the oven during my break), turn the animals in for the night, and we eat supper at 10 like proper Italians.

Settle in with wifey for the night to watch a show, and turn in for the night.

Days off are for shearing, riding, sewing, harvesting, planting, and the occasional spa day.

I'm going to make this happen for myself, one way or another. I just wonder what the path will look like.

[l-anna-art]

Hide And Seek - Anima!AU

A new illustration with an extract, this time! There is the english version first, and I added the french one too :)

"Not a sound," Yagi whispered.

The blond held Izuku against the wall with a strong and firm grip despite his sickly appearance. Izuku stared at him with a frown, the incomprehension clearly visible on his face. Yagi didn't give him a look. He wasn't looking at anything specific, in fact. His eyes were just wide open, frozen, pupils dilated and his body was tense.

Attentive.

Clac.

Izuku's eyes widened. If the night had not been so silent and empty of life, the boy would never have heard the clicking of claws scraping the ground. A metallic, steady, quiet sound.

Clac.

It was much heavier than Renard's flowing step. It was also farther away, out of sight at the moment when Yagi had grabbed Izuku by the shirt to hide behind one of the low walls along the street.

Clac.

Izuku had not even noticed the presence. And as the tinkling became closer and closer, clearer and sharper, he could feel the excess energy swarming under his skin, becoming unstable and painful as his anxiety grew. He regretted that Renard had disappeared in the night, because there, right away, he terribly missed the comforting presence of his automaton. Nor did watch Yagi stand as still as a statue help to calm his mind, and he squirmed under its grip. The blond turned silently towards him, a finger on his lips as he stuck himself a little closer to the wall and brought Izuku closer to his chest.

There were still steps, and a grunt resounded behind the low wall decorated with bushes. The thing finally overtook them, revealing the amalgam of flesh and metal that formed its body. It was as tall as a horse, but much more massive, and the dark body glowed in the glow of the street lamps. The paws, made of steel and other materials that Izuku did not recognize, were probably as wide as the boy's silhouette, and he had no doubt that one blow would be enough to shred him.

"It's hunting us," one of the voices said. "This one has no sense of smell, but it has keen hearing. Silence."

Izuku wanted to ask what the hell was that thing, but just the idea of opening his mouth and being noticed twisted his insides in a painful way. He suddenly missed his bed. His bed and the warm, soft blankets. And hot chocolates too, with marshmallows and cream in excess.

He wasn't sure he'd get the chance to drink one again.

The monster raised its head and looked around, probing its surroundings. What must have been its ears stood straight and high on its head, and it stood there, motionless and silent, its iron tail flapping the air.

Deep down, in a visceral way, Izuku knew it. If that thing turned around, it would find them.

But there was little they could do, each sound threatening to reveal their presence. So they stood there, paralyzed like mice at the sight of a cat. Yagi looked straight ahead, breathing calmly despite the clamminess of his hands, and looked for something in one of his pockets. Izuku, on the other hand, had his hands glued to his mouth, reducing the sound of his breathing as much as possible as he closed his eyes.

A new growl - a mixture of low rumblings, clattering, and rales - emanated from the monster before it fatally began to rotate in their direction. Izuku felt tears streaming from the corner of his eyes as the fright lacerated his stomach, making him want to vomit.

They were dead. Izuku had always had bad luck and that wouldn't change tonight. Yagi, too weak to fight, would end up in pieces by something straight from hell, and Izuku would end up just as shredded in the corner. He pitied the poor passers-by who would discover their corpses in the early morning. If there was anything left of them.

There were still footsteps, rattling and scraping, closer and closer still, when suddenly the echo of a crate falling to the ground resounded in the night and startled him. The beast's head turned around, its neck twisted in a position that was anything but natural, and stared into the darkness in search of the source of the noise.

A moment passed without anything happening and then the duo, completely alert and motionless, watched the rest of the creature move to follow the alignment of its head that fixed one of the alleys.

A white lightning bolt leapted out of the shadows, three tails whipping the air as Renard faced the monster. The metal sparkled under the artificial light, and the gold bindings that covered its body captured the light and reflected it back. Izuku would have wanted to scream, panic and anxiety roaring in his veins. Renard was so small in comparison, tiny and frail in front of the creature.

All it would take is one bad move.

Yagi had to restrain the boy and put one hand over his mouth so he wouldn't ruin everything.

The creature was staring at Renard, motionless, one of its legs frozen above the ground. The body creaked and rattled as it bent forward. For a moment, the thing was standing about fifteen meters from the automaton. The next, it was on Renard and trying to push it to the ground with its claws and fangs out.

However, the automaton, although much smaller than the monster, remained agile and fast. It managed to free itself in a fluid movement, rolling on the ground and getting back on its feet. Then, before the dark creature moved again, the automaton hurried off into one of the adjacent alleys, the one opposite where the duo was.

The thing didn't waste a second and followed it, disappearing into the night as rumblings and screams echoed through the city.

Both remained motionless for a while, before Yagi finally decided to get up, looking around for anything abnormal. Izuku was still curled up on the floor, nervously playing with his shirt while his mind wandered about what was waiting for his automaton.

Renard was fast and hard to catch. It was also much smaller and could sneak everywhere, it would find a place inaccessible to the monster, right? It could always run and lose it somewhere, but could it find his way back? Izuku didn't know the city well, and he doubted that his automaton would do better. My God, what if it couldn't find it before leaving ? What if Renard got stuck here ? Yagi could understand and maybe delay the departure, but what if they couldn't find Renard ? They couldn't leave it here! Nor could he ask for information or help from anyone, they were wanted. And in broad daylight, his automaton would not really be the most discreet thing in these neighborhoods. Oh my God, what if the monster catches it anyway? What if it's not fast enough?

"Midoriya, you're rambling."

The boy blinked, suddenly out of his thoughts. Yagi had crouched down in front of him and gently shook his shoulder.

"Your fox is an intelligent beast. I'm sure it will find us," he said.

The blond offered him a smile.

This time, Izuku wasn't sure it was true.

"We shouldn't stay here," Yagi continued, looking again at the alley where the monster had disappeared. "These things never move alone."

"What exactly was that?" asked the greenette, his face still pale as he released a shiver.

The man stared at him with a sorry expression, before tapping his shoulder and helping him up.

"One of your father's experiments."

.

FRENCH VERSION  ===============================

.

"Plus un bruit," murmura Yagi.

Le blond maintenait Izuku contre le mur, la poigne forte et ferme malgré son apparence maladive. Izuku le fixa avec un froncement de sourcil, l'incompréhension clairement visible sur son visage. Yagi ne lui accorda pas un regard. Il ne regardait rien de précis, en fait. Les yeux grands ouvert, figés, les pupilles dilatées et le corps tendu.

Attentif.

Clac.

Les yeux d'Izuku s'écarquillèrent. Si la nuit n'avais pas ét�� si silencieuse et vide de vie, le garçon n'aurait jamais entendu le cliquetis des griffes raclant le sol. Un son métallique, régulier et tranquille.

Clac.

Il était bien plus pesant que le pas fluide de Renard. Il était aussi plus lointain, hors de vue au moment où Yagi avait saisit Izuku par la chemise pour se cacher derrière l'un des murets qui longeaient la rue.

Clac.

Izuku n'avait même pas remarqué la présence. Et alors que les tintements se faisaient de plus en plus proches, de plus en plus clairs et nets, il pouvait sentir le surplus d'énergie grouiller sous sa peau, devenant instable et douloureux à mesure que son anxiété grandissait. Il regrettait que Renard ait disparu dans la nuit, car là, tout de suite, la présence réconfortante de son automate lui manquait terriblement. Regarder Yagi se tenir aussi immobile qu'une statue n'aidait pas non plus à apaiser son esprit, et il se tortilla sous sa prise. Le blond se retourna en silence vers lui, un doigt sur ses lèvres alors qu'il se collait un peu plus contre le mur et rapprochait Izuku de sa poitrine.

Il y eu encore des pas, et un grognement résonna derrière le muret orné de buissons. La chose les dépassa enfin, dévoilant l'amalgame de chair et de métal que formait son corps. Le monstre était aussi grand qu'un cheval, mais bien plus massif, et le corps sombre luisait à la lueur des réverbères. Les pattes, faite d'acier et d'autres matériaux qu'Izuku ne reconnut pas, était probablement aussi large que la silhouette du garçon, et il ne douta pas une seconde qu'un coup suffise pour le déchiqueter.

"Il nous traque," lui intima une des voix. "Celui-ci n'a pas d'odorat, mais son ouïe est fine. Silence."

Izuku voulait demander ce que diable était ce truc à l'ouïe fine, mais rien que l'idée d'ouvrir la bouche et de se faire remarquer lui tordait les entrailles d'une manière douloureuse. Son lit lui manquait tout d'un coup. Son lit et les couvertures chaudes et douces. Et les tasses de chocolats chaud, aussi, avec des guimauves et de la crème à outrance.

Il n'était pas sûr d'avoir à nouveau la chance d'en boire un.

Le monstre releva la tête et observa les alentours, sondant son environnement. Les choses qui devait lui servir d'oreilles se tenaient droites et hautes sur sa tête, et il resta là, immobile et silencieux, la queue de fer battant l'air.

Au fond de lui, d'une manière viscérale, Izuku le savait. Si cette chose se retournait, elle les trouverait.

Mais ils ne pouvaient pas faire grand chose, chaque son menaçant de dévoiler leur présence. Alors, ils restèrent là, paralysés comme des souris à la vue d'un chat. Yagi regardait droit devant lui, la respiration calme malgré la moiteur de ses mains, et chercha quelque chose dans une de ses poches. Izuku, lui, avait les mains collées contre sa bouche, atténuant au mieux le bruit de sa respiration alors qu'il fermait les yeux.

Un nouveau grognement - un mélange de grondements graves, de cliquetis et de râles - émana du monstre avant qu'il ne commence fatalement à pivoter dans leur direction. Izuku sentit des larmes perler au coin de ses yeux alors que l'effroi lui lacérait l'estomac, lui donnant envie de vomir.

Ils étaient finis. Izuku avait toujours eu la poisse et ça ne changerait pas cette nuit. Yagi, trop faible pour se battre, allait finir en morceaux par un truc sorti tout droit des enfers, et Izuku finirait tout aussi déchiqueté dans le coin de la rue. Il plaignait les pauvres passants qui découvriraient leurs cadavres au petit matin. S'il en restait quoi que ce soit.

Il y eu encore des pas, des cliquetis et raclements, plus proches et plus proches encore, lorsque soudain, l'écho d'une caisse tombant au sol résonna dans la nuit et le fit sursauter. La tête de la bête fit volte-face, le cou tordu dans une position tout sauf naturelle et fixa les ténèbres à la recherche de l'origine du bruit.

Un moment s’écoula sans que rien ne se passe puis, le duo, complètement alerte et immobile, observa le reste de la créature bouger pour suivre l'alignement de sa tête qui fixait l'une des ruelles.

Un éclair blanc bondit hors des ombres, trois queues fouettant l'air alors que Renard faisait face au monstre. Le métal étincelait sous la lumière artificielle, et les reliures en or qui couvraient son corps captaient la lumière et la renvoyaient. Izuku aurait voulu hurler, la panique et l'inquiétude rugissant dans ses veines. Renard était si petit en comparaison, minuscule et frêle devant la créature.

Il suffirait d'un mauvais coup.

Yagi dut le retenir et lui plaquer une main sur la bouche pour ne pas qu'il ruine tout.

La créature toisait Renard, immobile, une des pattes gelées au-dessus du sol. Le corps grinça et cliqueta alors qu'il se penchait en avant. Un instant, la chose se tenait à une quinzaine de mètres de l'automate. Le suivant, il était sur Renard et tentait de le plaquer au sol, griffes et crocs sortis.

Cependant, l'automate, bien que beaucoup plus petit que le monstre, restait agile et rapide. Il parvint à se dégager dans un mouvement fluide, roulant sur le sol et se remettant sur ses pattes. Puis, avant que la créature sombre ne bouge à nouveau, l'automate détala dans une des ruelles adjacentes, celle à l'opposée d'où se trouvait le duo.

La chose ne perdit pas une seconde et s'élança à sa suite, disparaissant dans la nuit alors que des grondements et des cris se répercutait dans la ville.

Les deux restèrent immobiles pendant un moment, avant que Yagi ne se décide enfin à se relever, observant les alentours à la recherche de quoi que ce soit d'anormal. Izuku était toujours recroquevillé par terre, jouant nerveusement avec sa chemise alors que son esprit divaguait sur ce qui attendait son automate.

Renard était rapide et dur à attraper. Il était aussi bien plus petit et pouvait se faufiler partout, il trouverait bien un endroit inaccessible au monstre, pas vrai ? Il pouvait toujours courir et le semer quelque part, mais est-ce qu'il pourrait retrouver son chemin ? Izuku ne connaissait pas bien la ville, et il doutait que son automate se débrouille mieux. Mon dieu, et s'il ne le trouvait pas avant le départ ? Et si Renard restait coincé ici ? Yagi pourrait comprendre et peut-être retarder le départ, mais s'ils ne trouvaient pas Renard ? Ils ne pouvaient pas le laisser là ! Et il ne pouvait pas non plus demander des infos ou de l'aide à qui que ce soit, ils étaient recherchés. Et en plein jour, son automate ne serait pas vraiment la chose la plus discrète dans ces quartiers. Ho mon dieu, et si le monstre l'attrape quand même ? Et s'il n'est pas assez rapide ?

"Midoriya, tu divagues."

Le garçon cligna des yeux, soudainement tiré de ses pensées. Yagi s'était accroupis devant lui et lui secouait doucement l'épaule.

"Ton renard est une bête intelligente. Je suis sûr qu'il nous retrouvera," il dit.

Le blond lui offrit un sourire.

Cette fois-ci, Izuku n'était pas sûr qu'il soit vrai.

"Nous ne devrions pas rester ici," continua Yagi en observant à nouveau la ruelle où avait disparu le monstre. "Ces choses ne se baladent jamais seules."

"Qu'est-ce que c'était, au juste ?" demanda l'adolescent, le visage encore livide alors qu'il relâchait un frisson.

L'homme le dévisagea avec une expression désolée, avant de lui tapoter l'épaule et de l'aider à se relever.

"L'une des expérimentations de ton père."

[iohourtime]

Think Note Vol #93 Routine

Myojo 01.2021

(Please let me know if there are any errors.)

I want to always be my best self and not be bound by established routines.

He spares no effort when it comes to improving himself and meeting the expectations of those who support him. Taking a glimpse into Yamada’s daily life, [you will see] a number of strict* routines.

* Stoic - but the Japanese usage of that word is a little different from the normal English usage.

---------

In the mornings of my workdays, even if it’s an early start, I will set my phone alarm on to 1.5 hours before departure and I will get up without snoozing. When I get out of bed, I immediately go to the kitchen. The reason is that I have to make my breakfast, lunch, and dinner as part of my body training. By cooking, I mean I’m just breaking 10 eggs to make scrambled eggs and then put 400g of chicken breast in the low temperature cooker (sous vide) for 1 hour. I take a shower in between and then I finish by putting the scrambled eggs and diced chicken breast in 3 containers. I take them with me to eat, but at night, I will also have some high protein, low calorie things from [catering] at work. Since I take in almost no sugar or salt, my tastebuds seemed to have sharpened, so today when I ate saikyo yaki* sablefish, the deliciousness permeated my body (laughs). The [things I mentioned] above are my recent morning routines. I used to not understand why people around me say things like “You’re so strict!”, but this is the first time I also felt that “I am pretty strict with myself.”

* Saikyo Yaki (西京焼き) is a dish of grilled fish or meat marinated in sweetened miso.

After work, I will visit the gym to work out before going home, so I usually get home around midnight. Although I usually have work starting really early on the next day, I make sure I play at least one round of games. There are times when my condition caused me to lose in 2 minutes, so obviously I will play another round in those cases (laughs). After that, I will take a bath and then go to bed. Until a little while ago, I will play with my phone while it is charging by my bedside, however, I can’t sleep because of that, so now I charge it at the foot of my bed. This way, when my alarm goes off [in the morning], I will have to get up to shut it off and this stops me from falling asleep again. By the way, the mattress I bought during “Sakurai, Ariyoshi The Yakai” arrived, and the way it gets rid of my tiredness when I wake up is totally different! I have noticed the importance of getting a good night’s sleep, so it was a great purchase. Although it was expensive (laughs).

Since I am living so strictly everyday, I will announce my ideal day … I’ll wake up at 10am, get omurice on delivery; when my stomach is full, I’ll take an afternoon nap; when I get up, I’ll roll around in bed and play with my phone, then from around 3pm to midnight, I will [sequester] in my house and play games! Right now, I’m wondering if I need to treat myself and spend a day inside my apartment. Although there are people who upload lots of videos of their trendy morning routines and night routines, I will never show anyone my “degenerate” day (laughs).

I almost have no routines when it comes to work. Let’s say before I join the filming of a drama or movie, the role I play determines whether any preparation is required, and if I do, the preparation is [going to be] different. As for things I do before [each] performance, I have to do my hair, makeup, and go to the toilet (laughs). Routine means doing the same things every time. Since I don’t have much patience, I think it will be boring to be bound by established routines at work. Although I understand the wish to always bring in a constant level of energy* to each job, I think it is unfit for my line of work to bring the same level of energy all the time. Rather, the attraction for this job is that there are different challenges and requirements everyday. If I’m caught up in routines, the worst case is that I cannot perform properly… that is something I do not want.

* He actually said “Tension”, which usually means excitement or high spirits but it doesn’t seem to fit here.

“I want different stimuli every day..." - Ryosuke

[shytiff]

Apr 2021 Wins

Started typing this on 4th apr lmaooo

1 - went to mcd. bought chicken + rice with the app promo. there’s a staff helping me on the order machine lol i feel badd there’s no need to do thatt. ate my lunchmade by mom at mcd’s muschola and went to sbux bcs its tumbler day. green tea latte w skim milk as usual. sent dr triya’s translation. ecmocard. started rereading goong (AGAIN. i probably have read it like 3 times minimum). still bring some feels

2 - its holiday today. spent almost the whole daylight rereading goong (turns out its pronounce ‘gung’ not ‘gong’ lol ive been wrong all this time) and finished it. the scene where they stare at each other, separated by the castle door, always gets me. got the old ipad charged (the screen are like 30% close to detaching and falling apart) and started AOT

3 - spent the whole day reading AOT. i like it when i have mini purposes in life (eg: finishing a manga series). AOT rly talks a lot about what do you want to do in life, the consequences of your choices and how you have to live with it. i felt triggered in a good way. the characters dont rly judge other’s choices, but they question them. discuss about it. give you some moral push. second gladi today. my vbg was still filpped hhhh. read aot until i felt sleepy and fell asleep. woke up very near subuh and prayed isya. my toxic trait is the horrible self care (and im talking bare minimum lol hehe lmao)

4 - finished aot. Asked irun about some aot explanations and she sent 5 paragraphs in one bubble. Slept. Flavola, kopsus coklat and somay. Also ate japota honey butter. Did 1 long input of ecmocard. Followed baepsae choreo. Moved my body a bit. Wow im not immediately sleeping. Amazing

5 - arrived at harkit 11-ish and went back about 1pm loll. super hungry when im arriving in kalideres. bought tahu colek worth 3000 (i wonder how the seller hears me through my 2 layers of mask), roti sisir and some ice cream in alfamidi. my fitlife protein powder ran out again. its my 2nd already. did some ecmocard, wasted my time after maghrib

6 - woke up late. did not have the mental strength to go to harkit so i decided to just stay home. bought sbux 1L green tea and macchiato. wasted the daylight and finally did some ecmocard in the evening,,,,

7 - off to harkit 7.30-ish pm in the rain. Took some data for ecmocard. Went to salemba to get tabung and surat bebas pustaka. Had breakfast slash lunch first, tried guudfuud (red rice, beef and omega egg). I like that the rice was not too much. Met up w ness ren and talked about isip dilemmas at sky. Afterwards went to flavola. Ordered mie rebus and roasted milk tea cause i somehow feel sooo hungry and in need of calories. It tasted so good, i was sitting in my usual seat facing the window, and the sky was a mixture of blue and grey. Brought croissant and sakura pocky at indomart. Ate the bread immediately after indomie. Went back home. Juan brought tahu gejrot that was delicious and crunchy. Internship files briefing by akis. Fell asleep

8 - woke up. Saw that dr retha was up for interview. Panicked. Thankfully it was at 12. I left home at 9:40 ish and arrived 11:50. Its a long ass way. Turns out i was interviewed with ka agassi. The doctors are so kind. They explained the gist of anesthesiology profession, and how its a choice you make, and its okay as long as you like what you do. Tried halo bowl for lunch. Sous vide chicken, rice, caesar sauce, beef bacon, and the deliciouss butter broccoli. Went back to kalideres and to starbucks. I only spent <2 hrs in there (a waste of money, i know). Bought decaf hazelnut latte (apparently the beans were kenyan something? Medium?) and butter croissant (need to cushion my stomach). Did GCP certification and sent it to the ever so kind mba Ai. Still got energy from the caffeine, did some ecmocard, read quran, read.... Toji fanfic 🤦‍♀️

9 - went to rsf w mom. We took the wrong way and had to take the long way but thank god theres still time to spare. Met dr rara. Some briefing. Went to rscm w agassi, submitted files for ijazah, went back to RSF. Girlll the cost of transport. MRT: 12K. Grab: 16-17k. Thats one way trip. Bought food at rsf canteen. Eocru briefing by the research coordinator. Ward tour w dr retha. Snacked on ovaltine provided by mba ai. Went home after maghrib by tj. Liqo along the way. Glad bersih (came late). Drank macchiato for some strength but still fell asleep quickly.i shouldnt have laid down

10 - kebakaran jenggot in the morning due to green screen positioning. Finally got the appropriate setup (after many fabric tries and cutting my mukena) at 08:30. Finished showering 08:45. Zoom was opened at 9 lmao. Somehow finished before 09:30. Zoompah w mom and dad along side me. After its ovee, some "photoshoot" w fam. At this point i was truly rly sleepy. Took of my makeup. Changed my clothes. And then racil silv dev showed up lol. I got gifts c: and then atikah came. And then i redid my makeup, this time with the help of friends to create fantastic eye make up look (which i can never pull off). Eyebrows by sil, eyeshadow and liner by cheldev lol. Took some photos. Dajen came. Talked. Videocalled w pupuy. A surprise gift from fianti came. And then chel dajen went back at 8. Still cant sleep. Slept at like 11-12

11 - lazed. Woke up, ate pizza (mom bought 2 of phd's 1m pizza) and bakwan, slept again. Matcha latte and ecmocard. Watched a bit of 2nd sinau

12 - off to rsf at 06:20. Arrived 07:15 ish. Lunch was ayam penyet accompanied by snacks that mba ai bought. Off to harkit at 14:05 (bcs my laptop somehow shut down and i lost all the unsubmitted data). And then off to kalideres at 15:30 ish to meet up w clara and search for clothes for almira's wedding. Went to lippo bcs clar saw this dress that kinda looks like the brokat given. We ate at ramen ya. It doesnt rly make you feel full, the filliny sensation was kinda like indomie. Saw that the dress looked different. Ate 1 boba pancake together at banban. Continued on to the tailor in kebon jeruk. The location was in an alley, and it was raining lol. Quoting clara: "the unnecessary struggles". The tailor was quite helpful (and she looks experienced). Arrived at clara's at 8 ish. Picked up by mom with car (it was raining) and arrived at abt 9. Hurriedly showered and tarawih and tidied up AND ITS ONLY 09:45. Its crazy how efficient one use time (and at the same time, how wasteful one can be)

13 - first day of fasting. The morning was spent taking samples. I stupidly took a sample thats not yet labeled im sorry :(((( i felt kinda tired and wanted to give up this. Give up anesthesia. Went back home at 14:00 and its cloudy. The bus was the nicer types and it was COLD. Read quran along the way. Picked up by juan. Opened laptop. And then its iftar time. I was sooo sleey and the tarawih was so long thst i closed my eyes along the way. Fianti called after tarawih, we talked til abt 21:30. And then i fell asleep

14 - went to rscm. Submitted serkom files. Met dr dyah and i hope we could somehow meet her again if we study in fkui again aamiin. Went to rsf by mrt. Arrived in lebak bulus just before it was raining. The bus took a while to arrive (usually theyre there, waiting). Its still raining like crazy so i took grabcar to AR from pesakih (39k). Played with my phone til iftar. Played phone again after tarawih and fell asleep

15 - i felt rlyy lazy and cant bring myself to wake up. Off to rsf at 07:15. There were coordinator ppl. Took sample. It was raining when i went back but i took grabbike from kalideres. Wasted my time and did not do ecmocard

16 - sampling. Snacked on keripik pisang at the room. Went back early at 13:15 ish. Picked up by juan. Sleeeept (and this is before the nightmareish mistake began)

17 - i did a mistake by telling dr retha (who took the sample today) the wrong patient (it switched in my unreliable memory. I feel terrible. Thank god shes quite chill abt it (?). Read jujutsu kaiseeen. Went to flavola. Did 1 ecmocard. Went to bandar jakarta baywalk by motorbike. Spent 135k and was quite full with many varieties. Arrived home at about 20:50. Turns out juan also had bukber with his friends. Phone call with fiiii, talked abt dimrob

18 - lazed all day, read jjk, finished my part of ecmocard (gave genky to ekal cause i was a dumbass at getting data). Ate mom's mentai rice, siomay. Drank green tea latte. Read jjk til 145 (mentok) at night. Proceeds to consume all things jjk lmaoo

19 - we took sooo long to get samples. Finished at 13:00. Went to rm with dr rara. Went back home. Watched the third sinau. Read the IMMACULATE jjk fics by celestialmechanics im IN LOVEEEE with the way s/he writes ughhhh

20 - samples took faster than usual. Mba ai did not came today. Went to RM and did some work there. Off to AR by 15:00. Arrived close to maghrib. Did not do any work afterwards lmao. Did not even wash my face

21 - magang as usual. Note to self: sit on the right side of the bus. Did nothing yesterday. Felt like shit after tarawih (but i showered before maghrib!!)

22 - todays problem was the swab sample not being there even though the staff allegedly already took it. Huft. Took a shower and out on vitacid (i cant remember the kast time i put on vitacid 😳 its probably been... a week or two?

23 - samples finished quite quickly. Already going home at 12. Lazedddd and lazed and lazed. Waited for emir to pick me up so i went to dm. Read an immaculate itadori x megumi fix thats just full of feels. Started demon slayer lets see

24 - literally just laid in bed reading manga and seeing tiktok and slept again and suddenly its 1 am. Showered. Still in a lazy mode. Havent begun clires work. Watched leah's vlog that said "go do things youve been putting off!". Finally finished the third and last video of Sinau Yuk ICU class with dr. Zeta, SpAn lolll even though the actual last class was on 7th apr. iftar was fish and chips and salad yuum

25 - woke up at like 1am since i slept too much yesterday. Ate tan ek tjoan bread and drank sbux matcha latte. Did some intern work. Read a bit of quran. Sahur. Cant even sleep again so i showered. Off with mom and dad (09:30) since dad’s going to get vaccinated at skk migas. Mom drove me to ara’s place (11:00). Talked a bit and even read quran again there. Off to GI (13:00) to meet up w regen. Walked around. Bought a discounted TBS green tea facial wash. Went back home by TJ (16:00). the bus station is a bit closer now. Arrived home close to maghrib (17:30). hurriedly showered and went to sleep (properly) after tarawih. A good good sleep since i got 9400 steps today and that tired me out lmaooo (bare minimum yall, i know). 

26 - woke up still sleepy. Slept again after iftar and woke up at 07:30. Skipped shower and off to RSF lmao. Went to medical record. Walked to the front of RSF originally planning to go to lebak bulus by angkot but i saw none. So i went through mrt instead. Stopped by at kebon jeruk and walked 800 meter (that tireeed me and made me feel parched under the sun) to risma busana for clothes fitting. Took gojek to jembatan gantung (turns out the closer halte to flyover was taman kota). Iftar was chicken noodle and risol and banana and i felt fullll and i slept

27 - today is off day since im alternating with agassi. read quran. watched shadow and bone (with 1,5x speed except for kanej and matthias nina scenes). didnt rly do any magang work except the table asked by dr retha. i feel like usually im operating on 70%. sleeping more doesnt rly add that. i need caffeine or physical activity. before i know it, its close to iftar.

28 - i ((felt)) like i had a decent amount of energy today. shouldve done some work between sahur and leaving the house but i ended up reading vampire knight lmaoooo the scenes had no business bringing so much butterflies. sampling together w agassi. mba ai didnt come in today. after agassi left did some magang work. i also went to RM to ask for more RM to bu dian. took angkot to lebak bulus for the first time. paid 5k. i had no idea which angkot went to lebak bulus and the driver (somehow knowing the right words to say) said “lebak bulus lebak bulus”. didnt read much quran on the way back. i just close my eyes and relaxed. felt kinda low on sugar. watched more shadow and bone on the way back and at home until close to iftar. didnt do anything after tarawih. slept hoping i woke up early (which i did, at 3am. but i slept again)

29 - im supposed to have ample energy but i just stuck around my bed until its time to get ready to go. read some kanej fic lol. I dont rly do anything productive after arriving home

30 - made intern log, magang as usual. Did not go to rm. Finished watching shadow and bone. Rested bcs tomorrow's saturdayyy

[contentment-of-cats]

Dear Saturday,

It's good to see you again. I don't know how many of you I have left, but remission's holding steady. I'll have my results in two weeks, and if I'm still negative it will be 11 months. I've been a little busier than usual. My day job and the paid gig, plus that kidney stone took a whack at me.

On the Money

The paid gig is panning out, and I just handed in the last one for the year. They're happy with my work, but OMFG I am never writing porn in fandom again.

In talking with a friend, I compared it to my summer job in my hometown ice cream shop. It sounds like a dream job until you actually do it. I didn't touch ice cream again until my mid-twenties. Besides, this is writing to spec, I get very little say in the content and have to stick to the outline. Think of it as working in an ice cream shop and never getting to eat a flavor you like, but are instead served nothing but banana splits made with rum raisin, bubblegum, and tutti frutti ice cream, topped with crushed maraschino cherries. The company's given up on AI completely so far as written content, it's just unworkable with results either laughable, incomprehensible, or appalling.

Do they even make rum raisin ice cream any longer?

In any case, between last year and this year, my medical expenses out of pocket are $35,000. That's with donations. I've been lucky that my boss supported me by paying my rent for six months and I had a load of unused PTO. I need to stuff that back into savings stat, and my PPO premiums are going up by $100 this year. I need five more novels to get even, then three more to cover my premiums for the year. I also want to cover my out-of-pocket, up to $9k from $7k. My paycheck needs to cover basics, and I do not want to tap savings more than strictly necessary.

In the Kitchen

It's Thanksgiving this coming Thursday, and it's one I did not expect to see. I didn't do holidays last year. I laid in bed with my incisions and ileostomy bag, and I slept. Today was cooking day, and I've had a busy morning 5-cheese tortellini with peas and mushrooms. Roasted Italian sausages. Also made egg-roll-inna-bowl. My Thanksgiving menu is duck leg and thigh confit, with a Caesar salad, wild rice and mushroom soup, potatoes roasted in duck fat, and pumpkin mousse.

If you like duck and have a sous vide, making duck or goose confit is easy. Put the leg-and-thigh in a sous vide or ziplock bag with salt, pepper, garlic powder, PSR&T and sous vide for at least 12 hours. Duck and goose have enough fat that you don't need to add much additional fat, and that yummy fat is great for roasting the potatoes. The longer you cook it, the more tender the meat. Take it out and run under the broiler to crisp it up.

Horizontally

The housework and cooking done, it's cool, grey, and raining. I've made the couch into a nest, partly claimed by the kitties. It's time to read and drink peppermint hot chocolate. I've been reading Susan Gulbar's 'Memoir of a Debulked Woman' and have Patrick Keefe's 'Empire of Pain' queued. Aside from Thrawn and Star Wars in general, my tastes run to nonfiction, I have a lot of Thrantovember catching up to so, but... bed so soft, kitties so enticing, and books awaiting me.

[joshslater]

Non-Minkowski Space

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Human Trial #1 -00:01:00

One minute left. My mind was racing. This must have been what the first astronauts felt. Any small error and it would be over for them, only that I had it worse. This was all my invention, my design, my engineering. It was all on me. Not an army of the best and brightest of the country, pouring over every calculation, assumption, circuit and weld to find flaws.

But I’ve sent literally hundreds of probes already. I’ve tested every element on the periodic table I could get my hands on. I’ve tested complex organic materials and verified them after they came back. I’ve tested insects, rodents and my neighbors bunny. I haven’t tested any large animals, but I’ve tested masses larger than me, and volumes larger than me, and just yesterday I tested 214.2 lbs, exactly what I weighed at that point.

All tests were flawless, except for equipment issues. That’s were I would be worried. The science is as solid as it is simple. By inducing harmonics to the sub-atomic elemental spins in a body of mass you can get its positional waveform to interfere with echos of itself from the underlying space structure and create a local probability top at a different time and place. Time travel, teleportation, or both, depending on the harmonics you use. For a short while at least, until the harmonic subsides and you return back. The math is a nightmare, but the actual hardware isn’t that difficult to set up even in an apartment. Which I did.

Human Trial #1 -00:00:30

I’m a theoretical physicist, not an engineer, so of course it is the equipment I’ve had issues with. But I can’t think of a scenario that would be fatal to me. Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here. Any misalignment or feed issues with the field generators would just create dissonant harmonics that would fail to take me anywhere. Since the actual displacement is instant I don’t worry about power failures either. Once there I have 45.3 minutes until the harmonics dissipates and I’ll return back regardless what the equipment is doing. I’ve already probed the location multiple time. It’s a back alley in Seattle in 2202-08-15 22:01. My autonomous drone managed to do some surveying and get some photos of local fashion. I feel ridiculous in my approximation of the clothes, but you need to start somewhere. Document everything and iterate. I don’t expect to get any groundbreaking inventions in the first visit, but as I get better and better at blending in I can hopefully get hold of more and more advanced schematics.

Human Trial #1 00:00:00

It just happened. No light effects. No sound. Just instantly standing there. It looked just like when I loaded the 3D capture in my VR goggles. I carefully walk out into the street. Not many people around, fortunately. It would have been safer to show up somewhere further from downtown, but the goal now is to collect as much everyday information as possible. Look into the shop windows. The drone had shown that was still a thing, even in Amazon’s home town.

Human Trial #1 00:00:00 [+00:07:12]

The alarm is sounding “Contamination Alert” over and over. I start to move away, but the sound follows me. I don’t see where it comes from. Less than 30 seconds later someone in a police uniform with a face covering helmet steps in front of me, gun drawn. I barely understand his accent, but it’s clear he wants me to remain still. Bright lights are hovering above me. I look up but see nothing but blinding, white dots shining down on me. Then a sort of transparent shower curtain is lowered all around me. Without warning it collapses in on me, like a vacuum pack machine preparing a steak for sous vide cooking. I can breathe, I can wiggle, but I can’t move. I’m lifted off the street and transported away with the city rushing beneath me.

Human Trial #1 00:00:00 [+00:21:44]

I’m lowered into some sort of ER and placed on a bed. Medical staff wearing full protective gear and breathing apparatus secure me to a bed before they cut away my confinement, and clothes. They strip everything from me, including my watch. A well rehearsed sequence of objects are placed on me, like small, high tech snails. I’m not that worried about essentially being tied to a bed. All devices are still recording. In 20 minutes I will be back in the apartment and can start go over everything they captured, and there is so much technology in this room.

Despite the strong accent I can understand some of what they are saying. Phrases like “I thought all of them had already been solved” and “they will have to make a full sweep. This will not be good for the senator”. An absolutely stunning nurse enters my field of vision. She looks at me with kind eyes filled with pity. She inserts some sort of breathing apparatus into my mouth and secures it. She strokes my hair and tells me in a low voice “This will all be over soon”.

I start to panic. If they cut anything off it will be detached even when I blink back. If I die here I die everywhere. Anything injected or inserted however will remain. But what happens to things that chemically bonds? Oh, God! I should have thought about chemical interactions. Breathing should be fine. I inhale oxygen, but that binds with carbon that I then exhale. When I swap back, will all the oxygen in my blood stream remain and I suffocate? No, Bun-e survived and didn’t even look hurt or even surprised coming back.

The staff start arranging equipment around me. Someone attaches a drip bag to my arm. Two other start placing adhesive pads on specific points on my body and connecting them to a machine. Despite my rising panic I note that all of them look like photo models. Then they all leave the room.

Human Trial #1 00:00:00 [+30min?]

It takes a minute, but then everything comes to life and starts whirring and humming. I can feel a warmth spreading throughout the body. I can see a counter on one of the displays that probably is time. 15 more minutes and this will all be over. I can feel my body shift slightly.

Human Trial #1 00:00:00 [+55min?]

Still strapped in bed. I can’t tell time precisely, but by now I should definitely have jumped back. Though my arms and legs are still held in place, even from this locked down position I can see that my body has undergone drastic changes. My belly is gone and instead I have a much more athletic physique. Is this why the probability function isn’t collapsing back? The mass is too entangled in the new mass that this has become the new, most probable position. That shouldn’t be possible, although as the foremost and only authority in my field of time travel I admit there is more research to be done.

Human Trial #1 +00:00:01

I’m back in my apartment. I hear equipment and pieces of torn clothes falling down around me. No, I was right. Introducing atoms with different harmonics and chemically bond them will introduce dissonance that prevents concurrent collapse. So instead, like metronomes on a table, they will slowly synchronize and then decay in unison until the probability wave collapses back.

I realize I’m still doing theoretical physics instead of facing the fact that my body is unrecognizable. I look younger, feel younger, although I’m buffer than I’ve ever been before in my life. I get up and rush into the bathroom. What did they do to me?

Human Trial #1 +00:00:24

I... I guess I can live with that.

[omgmykpopfictionsandstuff]

One cloudy day..

Une main sur la hanche, l'autre dans la sienne et le plongée en arrière. Voilà une heure que Berwald servait de mannequin à Miyuki et Elisa, il servait de mannequin avec Lily qui avait très gentiment accepter se se joindre eux pour cette petite séance de peinture dans l'une de salle de danse au fond nuages de la SM un de ces salles mythiques mais oubliées. Il pencha Lily en arrière et la française lui offrit un grand sourire. Miyuki termina son dessin et se leva très heureux du rendu, Elisa posa son pinceau et c'est ce moment que choisit Sören pour entrer, Lucie à son bras, Ten à l'autre. Lily sourit et relâcha doucement Berwald et s'inclina devant sa sœur et fixa Sören puis Ten. Sören s'écarta de son compagnon et tendit la main a Lily.

« Shall we ? » demanda-t-il calmement

« Do not force yourself » dit Lily en riant

« Won't happen. » dit Sören avec un semblant de sourire

Lily l'emmena alors dans une petite danse de simple, une valse qui jurait avec leurs tenues, car Lily portait un simple Jeans, un débardeur noir et des talons multicolore, et Sören lui portait un vieux t-shirt gris chiné avec l'inscription ' Royal Stockholm High School Hockey Team' et dans son dos 'S. Ekstrøm ' ainsi qu'un vieux jeans déchiré et des simple tennis blanches. La danse était légère et quand la jolie blonde, s'arrêta posant une main sur l'épaule de Sören, Ten serra les dents.

« Hands off he's mine. » grogna-t-il

Lily se recula légèrement surprise et leva la tête vers Sören, qui lui cachait très très mal sa satisfaction. Lily roula des yeux et Lucie secoua la tête en prenant la main de Ten.

« Ecoute, mon chéri... » fit Lucie en douceur « Sören est gay. Très gay. Lily est hétéro. Enfin aux dernières nouvelles.. » Elle fixa sa sœur qui confirma

« Je ne suis pas une menace. » dit Lily en souriant « Sören est juste mon ami. »

« Et c'est mon meilleur ami. » fit une voix velouté.

Elle entra dans la salle, portant une chemise blanche d'homme pas grande, des bas retenus par des porte jarretelles clairement visible sous la chemise et concrètement on voyait tout à travers sa chemise. Elle était petite, pourtant trônait sur des escarpins terriblement haut, ses longues mèches noires tombant de manière naturelle sur ses épaules et on pouvait aisément voire la fatigue dans ses yeux vert intense. Elle avança et soupira en se reposant contre l'épaule de Sören.

« It freaking hurts ... » soupira-t-elle

« I know. » dit-il

« I'm not only fucking meat for fucks sake. I'm not like... » Elle s'arrêta quand NCT entra par l'autre porte et la fixaient  « Holy fuck. »   Sören enleva son pull et le donna a Morganna qui l'enfila rapidement et fixa Lily qui enleva sa ceinture et la lui tendait. En deux secondes Morganna c'était faite une robe d'un pull beaucoup trop grand pour elle. Grâce à Sören et Lily. Ten l'observa et arqua un sourcil.

« Je vous ai déjà vu quelque part non ? » demanda-t-il

« Je suis Mona. » dit-elle doucement en souriant à Ten

« Holy shit. » couina Mark 

« Dude ?! » s'étonna Johnny

« I... oh waw... she's.. really... » Mark était rouge.

Morganna secoua un peu la tête quand Elrick entra, la mine noire, les yeux sombres. Il prit la main de Morganna qui secoua la tête.

« No please no.. » murmura-t-elle

« She's gone... Jolene and Malia said I had to get you. » dit-il

« I.. yes.. » Morganna s'éloigna et sortit en courant chercher quelqu'un.

« She's not Ian. » dit-il a Sören qui se massa les tempes.

« Qu'est-ce qu'il y a Sören ? » Ten prit doucement sa main

« Une amie de Morganna est malheureusement décédé dans l'exercice de ses fonctions. » dit Elrick

« Elle disait qu'elle avait de l'espoir la dernière fois d'arriver au bout de son service... ... » murmura Lily

« Malheureusement tout le monde n'est pas Ian... » soupira Lucie  

-

Voilà quelques jours bien sombres mais la vie continuait... enfin pas tout à fait. Morganna regardait l'homme assis sur la terrasse une cigarette entre les doigts, le regard dans le vide. Elle soupira et vint prendre la cigarette pour l'écraser.

« ça va pas? » grogna-t-il

« J'ai déjà perdue une amie. Tu ne seras pas le suivant sur la liste. » Elle était assez froide et soupira « Que va-t-il advenir de son fils ? » demanda-t-elle

« Je vais devoir ... m'en occuper. » nota-t-il « C'est moi son père. » il prit sa tête entre les mains

« Je sais. En attendant il vit avec Jolene. » nota Morganna en se levant « c'est sa Marraine après tout. » -

Jolene portait le petit garçon, puis s'installa dans le canapé. Le petit garçon aux yeux typé coréen mais d'une jolie couleur verte sombre. Il avait 3 ans et comprenait ce qu'il c'était passer et quand Jolene dessina un avion pour lui... il posa ses mains sur le papier.

« Mama... » dit-il doucement

« Yes Mama.. » Jolene caressa ses cheveux. « She won't comeback you know that right my love ? »

« I know. Uncle Ian... said... she .. » il chercha ses mots « Uncle Ian said... elle est ... partie dans les nuages. »

« C'est ça... » dit Jolene en passant en coréen caressant ses petites joues humide de larmes

« I miss mama... » dit-il en se lovant dans les bras de Jolene

« I miss her too. » dit-elle en le serrant contre elle.

Jaehyun entra dans le salon, cachant très mal un grand ourson en peluche dans son dos et Jolene leva la tête du petit garçon qui offrit un petit sourire fatigué a Jaehyun avant de descendre du canapé et de tendre les bras. Jaehyun posa l'ourse en peluche et souleva le petit dans ses bras.

« Hey big boy. » dit-il en souriant

« Hey uncle Jaee » Il souriait un peu fatigué

« Ohh someone wants a nap. » dit Jaehyun en souriant

« Nappy ! » il souriait un peu plus en se frottant les yeux

« Want Jaejae to put you in bed love ? » demanda Jolene

« want both... want my song... » murmura-t-il fatigué

« All right. » Jolene se leva et ramassa le gros ourse en peluche.

Le couple emmena le petit garçon dans la chambre ou résidait Jolene et le mirent au lit. C'est avec une douce chanson Jolene chantant et Jaehyun à la guitare, un peu hésitant. Une version country de 'Baby Mine' emmena le petit bout dans un sommeil profond et le couple éteignit la lumière et sortit de la chambre. Jaehyun rit un peu et Jolene l'embrassa tendrement avant de rejoindre le reste du groupe dans la salle à manger.

« He's so precious. » nota Johnny

« He is. » Jolene sourit

« Are you... like... gonna adopt him ? » demanda Mark

« He has a father you know. » dit Jolene « I'm just waiting for him to get better. » dit-elle

« we're gonna miss the little guy... » dit Mark

« Is his father gonna be okay ? » demanda Johnny 

« I'm counting on Morganna to not let him down. » dit Jolene

Puis on sonna à la porte et Jolene se leva pour aller ouvrir. Dans l'entrée se trouvait Morganna, avec à son bras un homme un peu morne.

« Hey... » dit Jolene doucement en emmenant le jeune homme avec elle

« Comment va-t-il ? » demanda-t-il la voix brisé

« C'est un grand garçon. Il comprends... » Jolene frotta doucement son dos « Et il attend son papa. Mais il dort là... » dit-elle doucement

« Je peux le voir ? » demanda-t-il doucement

« Viens. » Elle prit sa main et l'emmena doucement vers la chambre ou le petit dormait à poing fermé.

« Si seulement je pouvais dormir aussi insouciant que lui. » dit-il

« Une chanson et une guitare c'est tout ce qu'il demande. » Jolene rit en refermant la porte « Essaie une infusion de camomille et de valériane. Ça peut aider avec du miel. »

« Merci Jolene. Merci pour tout ce que tu fais... » Il soupira

« De rien Kyungsoo... Hilary aurait voulut qu'on se serre les coudes. » Elle l'emmena dans la salle commune et lui servit un thé

« Il lui restait que deux semaines... » soupira-t-il « Deux semaines et elle avait finit avec l'armée. »

« Le sort à été une pute. » grogna Morganna

« Langage. » soupira Jolene

« Tout le monde n'a pas la chance d'Ian. » dit Kyungsoo fatigué

« Appa ? » couina une petite voix endormie

« Douglas... » Il se tourna et s'accroupit « Viens-là »

Le petit bonhomme décida de piquer un sprint un peu bancale mais déterminé vers son père qui le prit dans ses bras. Jolene posa sa tête sur l'épaule de Jaehyun et sourit en voyant le père et le fils réuni.

« Tu as les yeux de ta maman tu sais ? » dit Kyungsoo en souriant

« Tata Jojo dis ça aussi... »  le petit regarda Jolene « ça veut dire... i can go with papa now ? »

« You're going home with papa yes love. » Jolene sourit

« But Uncle Ian and Uncle Jae and you, you have to come to my birthday hein oui papa ils doivent venir ? » le petit Douglas sourit

« Oui on organisera une fête. » dit Kyungsoo un peu dépassé mais souriant

« Bon courage. » dit Jaehyun doucement

« Merci. » Kyungsoo caressa les cheveux de Douglas « On va prendre tes affaires. Ton oncle Ian nous attend. » dit-il en regardant son téléphone.

« Quoi le vieux est là ?! » dit Morganna en souriant

« Respecte ton père. » dit Jolene blasé

« Je l'appelle pour qu'il monte ! » fit Morganna  

« ça doit être un vieux monsieur ... » s'étonna Mark doucement

« Ahah. » Kyungsoo rit un peu posant son fils au sol pour qu'il embarque contre son gré, oncle Jaehyun l'aider a faire sa valise « Ian vieux. »

« Ian vieux... » Jolene secoua la tête en riant et alla ouvrir la porte.

Une homme assez grand entra. Il était battit comme un dieu ce qui se voyait à travers sa tenue, une chemise blanche serrant ses muscles, un veston noir et un pantalon de costume noir collant à ses jambes, lui offrant un galbe des fesses pour le moins sexy. A son cou pendait une cravate défaite et sa chemise déboutonné laissa entrevoir le haut d'une pièce d'échec tatoué sur sa clavicule, ses cheveux noirs tombaient brillant et d'une façon élégante autour de son visage, il avait ce genre de visage de jeune premier, et des yeux d'un vert intense. Il aurait pu clouer n'importe qui sur place avec un seul regard. Il glissa ses mains dans ses poches avant des les sortir pour soulever le petit Douglas lui fonçant dessus.

« Hi ye wee lad » fit-il avec un très gros accent irlandais

« Uncle Ian !!! » Douglas le serrait très fort dans ses bras

« Hi dad ! » fit Morganna en embrassant sa joue, alors qu'il se penchait

« Dad ?! » s'étrangla Johnny « But he's like 20 or so. »

« 40. But thanks wee lad. S'fine knowin am' still handsome. » fit l'homme aux yeux verts.

« Holy shit. » Mark avala de travers

« Dude really ? » Johnny fixa Ian qui haussa un sourcil

« J'ai 40 ans oui. » dit-il en posant Douglas à terre « on va à la maison ? » demanda-t-il à Kyungsoo

« La mienne ou la tienne ? » demanda Kyungsoo

« La mienne. Je suis équipé pour des bambins. » dit-il

« Comment va mon petit frère ?  Et ma petite sœur ? » demanda Morganna

« Leur père me rend dingue mais sinon, ils vont bien. » dit Ian en soupirant « Ton beau-père est casse couille. »

« Tu l'as épousé pour ça Papa. » nota Morganna amusée

« Ouais. » il souleva les 3 grosses valises du petit sans problèmes « Tu diras a Sören que son frère est chez moi, et qu'il va falloir son expertise et celle de Berwald chez Kyungsoo ? »

« Oui papa. » Morganna sourit « Tino est là aussi ? »

« Tino arrive demain. » dit Ian en sortant « Oublie pas Berwald et Sören. »

« J'oublierais pas. » elle sourit un peu

« Au revoir tout le mooonde !!! » fit Douglas en prenant la main de Kyungsoo « Viens appa ! »

« J'arrive... » Kyungsoo salua tout le monde avant de sortir.

Puis tout NCT fixa Morganna qui ferma la porte. Elle se tourna vers eux et haussa un sourcil.

« Quoi ? » elle arqua un sourcil

« Il a 40ans et à l'air plus jeune que moi... » marmonna Johnny

« Ian à la malédiction de l’éternel babyface. » dit Jolene en s'asseyant

« Mais il a dit son mari. » Mark fixa Morganna

« Oh oui, ma mère à disparue quand je suis née y a 24 ans laissant mon pauvre papa seul a 16 ans se démerder avec moi. » expliquait Morganna

« Il a élever Morganna à l'armée, plus tard Hillary a jointe l'alliance élevons Mona ... » Jolene sourit tristement

« Elle va me manquer. » soupira Morganna « Woody est partie trop tôt... »

« C'était son patronyme à l'armée, elle était pilote de chasse. Et c'était la très rousse maman de Douglas. » expliqua Mona « Elle a voler 8 ans avec mon père, et c'est grâce à lui qu'elle avait rencontrer Kyungsoo »

« Son mari était déjà son compagnon il y a 8 ans. » dit Jolene

« Ils sont ensemble depuis plus de v 10 ans. » nota Morganna en riant. « Et ils sont très bien ensemble. »

« Mais c'est qui ? » s'étonna Mark

-

Arrivé à la maison, Ian installa Kyungsoo et Douglas dans l'appartement au dessus du garage. C'était un trois pièces simple mais tout à fait adapter pour un bambin de 3 ans. Dans l'entrée se trouvait Yoona un peu amusée en voyant Ian poser les valises et montrer la chambre à Douglas. Elle se revoyait, elle à la place de Kyungsoo, sauf qu'elle avait son mari avec elle. Elle souriait quand Kyungsoo s'assit en soupirant.

« Le coeur d'Ian explosera un jour avec sa bonté. » dit Kyungsoo

« C'est certain. » dit Yoona en s'asseyant sur le canapé « Mais Douglas aura des copains de son âge ici. »

« J'arrive pas à croire que ton fils à déjà 7 ans. » dit Kyungsoo amusé

« Moi non plus et ma fille qui a déjà 5 ans.. » Yoona secoua la tête

« Yoona-noona ? » fit une petite fille

« Oh Yuni ? » s'étonna Yoona en se redressant

« Y a votre fils qui est tombé dans le jardin. » dit-elle un peu gêné

« Il a encore voulut faire une prise de judo a ton frère ? » demanda-t-elle

« Oui Noona » dit-elle en baissant la tête

« Et ou est Sunhee ? » demanda-t-elle

« Elle prend le thé avec Tata Joy ! » dit-elle doucement

« Yuni ? » Ian s'avança

« Papa ! » La petite sauta dans ses bras.

« On va voir ce que Yunshi à fait comme bêtise ? » dit-il en la prenant dans ses bras

« Mais Yunshi a rien fait de mal c'est juste... Suncheol.. qui a essayer de le bloquer. » dit Yuni

« Un jour il apprendra. » Yoona se leva et sortit de l'appartement

« Vous avez pas réveiller Hyoji ? » soupira Ian

« Non elle fait toujours dodo ! » Yuni sourit

« Et appa ? » il descendit dans le grand salon trouvant son mari, bras croisé, et Sveinn, le mari de Yoona dans la même posture, fixant deux petits garçons.

« Je ne suis pas fier de toi. » souffla le mari de Yoona « Combien de fois devrais-je te dire que le Judo se fait au Dojo et pas à la maison dans le jardin ou c'est dangereux ? » sa voix atteignait un zéro absolu rappelant sa suède natale.

« Désolé... papa.. ; » couina le petit Suncheol.

« Tu as de la chance que Yunshi t'as soutenu tu aurais pu te faire très mal en tombant. » Dit Sveinn « Yunho vous a déjà puni pour ça. »

« Oui papa... » Suncheol baissa la tête

« Je ne suis pas content non plus Yunshi. » souffla Yunho exaspéré. « Je vais devoir le répété aussi ? Que jouer sur les dalles de l'étang est dangereux ? Ou dois-je laisser Papa mettre un requin dans l'étang pour que tu comprennes que c'est dangereux ? »

« C'est un plan ça. » dit Ian en posant Yuni au sol

« Ian... » soupira Yunho, Ian glissa sa main dans le dos de Yunho et fixa les deux « Je vais être gentil cette fois. Vous êtes tous les deux privé de tv pendant une semaine et vous allez aider votre oncle Matthias a ranger le jardin quand il sera là demain. Ai-je été compris ? » sa voix était froide et sévère.

« Yes sir. » firent les deux petits bonhommes

« Maintenant filer dans votre chambre » soupira Sveinn

« Yes sir. » et les deux petits bouts s'en allaient

Yuni alla rejoindre la petite Sunhee dans sa chambre pour prendre le thé avec Tata Joy. Yunho sourit un peu en embrassant la joue d'Ian. L'ancien militaire sourit et fixa Yoona enlacer Sveinn, puis Kyungsoo descendit de l'appartement, tous se séparaient. Kyungsoo secoua la tête amusé.

« On dirait Junmyeon et Lola. » il soupira amusé « ça va.. c'est pas parce qu'Hillary n'est plus là que vous devez faire ça. » il s'assit calmement « Je dirais même, profitez-en plus. »

« Peut-être que cela te changera les idées... » commença Sveinn « Mais Matthias arrive demain avec Tino. Il va s'occuper du jardin. »

« Matthias. » Kyungsoo hocha la tête « Il m'a manqué oui... je pense que je pourrais l'aider et Douglas adore le jardinage. »

« Et Matt est géniale avec les petits. » nota Yoona amusée

« C'est son métier Yoona. » Sveinn rit un peu « Il est professeur de maternel. »

« J'aurais pas imaginé un hockeyeur pro retraité, prof de maternel. » dit Yunho amusé

« C'est Donghae qui va être heureux aussi. » dit Joy en entrant « Parce que Tino a dit ... que Matthias à convaincu Thor de venir avec. »

« En effet Donghae va sauter au plafond. Il sait pas fermer sa gueule sur son pivot préféré... Le pauvre Berwald a été forcé de lui traduire tous les matchs... » dit Yoona en souriant « Il a du succès d'ailleurs Berwi... »

« Apparemment Jaemin et Jeno en ont après lui. » dit Kyungsoo calmement

« Aaah il est pas sortit de l'auberge mon pauvre frangin. » dit Sveinn amusé

« J'ai hâte de récupéré mon Tino.. » soupira Joy

« ça se comprend. » dit Yoona

« Oh... pardon Kyungsoo » Joy baissa la tête

« Y a pas besoin d'être désolé. » Il haussa les épaules.. « Elle me manque oui, mais elle n'est plus là. Ma vie continue malgré tout. »

Ian hocha la tête et servit un verre a Kyungsoo.

La vie continuait.

[kcowgill]

A couple of days!

First things first - yesterday would’ve been my mom’s 92nd birthday. I had a martini to celebrate the occasion. Maybe two. Ok, definitely two.

But before that, I opted to stay home from a “free science party” at the Science and Surplus store - I thought it would be a bit of a madhouse and I was all peopled out for the day. Instead I decided to sear some beef short ribs and prepare a wine reduction sauce to sous vide them in for a few days. Got them in the water bath a bit later than I wanted (it took SO LONG to reduce the wine) so I’m hoping 44 hours is just as good as 48.

This morning I had my therapy session while my wife took our son out for breakfast and my daughter slept in. Then she took him to his group therapy session up north while I got ready for the day. After they got home, everyone lunched up and my plan was to take the kids climbing and to the YMCA for some swimming. My son was worried his super-loose tooth would come out at an inopportune time (i.e. in the pool, so he wouldn’t be able to collect from the tooth fairy which I SWEAR he knows isn’t real) so he actually let me yank it out - which was a huge deal for him*.

Climbing was fairly uneventful - I got my son to actually use the auto-belay after the mishap** his first time. And he loved it! Still didn’t get super high on the wall, but we all had a good time, finishing off with a little bouldering.

On the way to swimming. I told my kids I was going to go straight to the lifeguard to ask if since they’ve both passed the deep water test, would it be OK if they came in to swim while I ran a quick mile on the treadmill in the cardio room? I figured if it was one of the lifeguards I knew it’d probably be no problem. But I walked in and I didn’t know her. I asked here anyhow. She said even though it technically was against the rules, she was OK with it***. So I ran a slow mile and then joined them.

While getting dressed after swimming, I got a text from my wife (who had a 14 mile run on her schedule for the day, thus my day with the kids) that my son’s friend wanted to hang out - so I just dropped him off on the way home. Ordered sushi with the girls and watched the 2016 Pete’s Dragon. Picked up my son, hustled the kids to bed, and then got in another lifting session. Decided to dust off my RPT**** spreadsheet and follow the numbers for my feeble squats.

Warm at sets at 50% and 60% of the target weight for the “work set” (i.e. “X”) and then back off sets (for more reps) at -10% and another -10%. (This spreadsheet is setup to calculate the numbers automatically - rounded, with increments of 2.5lbs since I have 1.25lb plates. Today I ended up rounding up anyhow and skipped the “fractional” plates. No clue what the numbers in parenthesis mean. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

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* Among his challenges are sensory issues (e.g. get out of my mouth!) and extreme avoidance of anything that might be potentially painful. I didn’t have to argue, threaten, or plead - I nonchalantly offered to do it for him, and after steeling his resolve for a few minutes he acquiesced. Popped right out without any fuss and I told him how proud I was of him for letting me do that.

** His very first time he didn’t really trust the auto-belay, so only let go with one hand which wasn’t enough to support his weight so he kind of “fell” and dragged parts of him (his elbow I think?) down the rough surfaces of the climbing wall, which not only hurt but also bled and was enough for him to swear off the auto-belay forever. Or maybe not forever? :)

*** I seem to have inherited something from my dad which I’ve only fairly recently learned was a “skill” of his (from my stepmother). It’s a knack for what I’d call “social engineering”. In his case, he’s able to get i.e. retail workers to accept returns or exchanges even if it’s usually against the store policy. My dad usually does it without any real effort - I think the way he talks to folks makes him seem genuine and charming (and it’s totally not fake). My stepmother likes to contrast his experiences with hers where if she were to attempt the same thing she’d get raised eyebrows and eventual refusals.

**** RPT stands for Reverse Pyramid Training. I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s basically what I described after the spreadsheet. Increase the weight during warm up sets, hit the peak of thee ‘pyramid’ for your working set, then back off the weight aiming to get more reps at the lower weights. It’s someone’s take on “minimum effective dose” and I’ve had success with it in the past.