#if you meant there is NO rice....then is there some kind of rice/no rice dividing line somewhere in the state? do you live in a rice desert

[starfieldcanvas]

@sonic-rider pls explain we are so confused. what did your tag mean???

okay so twice recently i've seen random people in the wild like "yeah people don't eat rice around here." so i think we need to have a poll on rice consumption

if you're a no-ricer maybe say where you're from/other explanation because i would like to know................................

[bloodibambiidoll]

Sugar and Spice: Part 1

(E.M. x Fem!Reader x S.H.) Part 2 Series Masterlist.

Summary: Steve has massive crush on you, Eddie’s childhood bestfriend who just came home from collage. The only problem is you despised him in highschool and he’s pretty sure Eddie’s in love with you.

Warnings: Eventual smut, pining, love triangle, no upside down, eventual steddie x reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N so definitely a billion pet names. There’s not really any for this chapter, it’s mostly setting the scene for the rest of the story. Mentions of sex and some swearing. I will add additional warnings each chapter! But still my work is always 18+MNDI

A/N: Okay I found this in my docs and I was reading over it and got inspired to keep writing it. I’ve had this idea in my head for a long time about a Reader who has a kind of like pastel goth type of aesthetic. Like she plays D&D and loves horror but also really loves chick flicks and pink. She listens to Black Sabbath but then will turn around and listen to Blondie in the same 10 minutes. Collects Care Bears but has read every Anne Rice book. I feel like both Eddie and Steve would lose their minds over that. There will be no physical descriptions of reader besides the outfits she wears, which will be things like big chunky goth boots and fuzzy pink sweaters. Ngl it’s kinda self indulgent of me but I hope there’s others who can relate to her.🤭 divider I used is by: @firefly-graphics

Steve wasn’t obsessed with you, at least he tried to convince himself that was the case. He hadn’t seen you since you graduated and moved to the city. But ever since you’ve been back it’s like he sees you everywhere. You come into his work sometimes and rent horror movies, or on rare occasions you rent something totally cute and left-field like The Little Mermaid. You wore outfits that were somehow the hottest and cutest thing he’s ever seen at once, his favorite he’s ever seen you in was this short little black skirt and a pink button up cardigan that you replaced the buttons with little skulls all brought together by the big platform boots you’re usually wearing. That contrast just made him more infatuated with you. You were like sugar and spice wrapped up in one really beautiful girl.

But there were TWO major problems, one being that you hated him In highschool. He was an arrogant asshole who thought he was better than everyone, could do whatever he wanted and looked down on the kind of people you hung around. You were pretty quiet but outspoken and opinionated when you wanted to be, kept close to the few friends you had and always had your head in some kind of horror or vampire book that Steve would definitely not understand but would’ve totally listened to you talk about all day just to hear you talk about something you loved. He always thought you were pretty, even in highschool when you used to dress a lot more reserved. Mostly ripped jeans, the occasional Care Bears tee, and shirts of bands he didn’t know. He even asked you out once Junior year before he got with Nancy and you laughed in his face and said “yeah fucking right Harrington, good one” But now? You’re always wearing those little mini skirts, low cut tank tops, and ripped up fishnets. Steve literally feels like he can’t think around you.

Which brings him to problem number two…Eddie. You and Eddie are bestfriends and have been since middle school, he’s part of the reason you never liked Steve because of the way he and his friends treated Eddie. Even though Steve was never directly mean to YOU, his friends were and that was enough. But Steve and Eddie had a recently developed… acquaintanceship due to their mutual friendship with Dustin. It took some time and convincing but once they got past their preconceived notions of each other they were able to be civil. Eddie being in the group meant when you came back naturally you were integrated in as well. Which means Steve has seen you in an actual social setting multiple times now.

You think that would be great, right? Wrong. Eddie was constantly touching you. Holding your hand, putting his arms around your waist, you sitting IN HIS LAP. It drove Steve fucking crazy, especially because he knows that Eddie loves you and he feels just a little bad about it because he had actually started to really like Eddie and maybe even began to see him as a friend. But seeing him all over you drove him insane and made him have a bad taste in his mouth every time he heard his name. He was pretty sure you loved Eddie. The way you looked at him and the gentle way you handled him and spoke to him like he wasn’t the resident metalhead drug dealer but a giant teddy bear that needed to be hugged and cared for.

Steve would’ve given up in an instant if you said you were Eddie’s girl, but you always said you guys were bestfriends despite the fact that Eddie definitely called you his girl on multiple occasions to the entire group. You definitely had feelings for him. He could see it but there was also something keeping you from making it official and that gave Steve hope. Especially once you warmed up to him and started sitting on HIS lap sometimes. You would just come and plop down across his knees looking at him all sweet like it was the most casual thing and you didn’t just make his brain short circuit. You started calling him cute little pet names and kissing his cheek every time you saw him.

Again, these things would all be fantastic IF you didn’t do all the same things and more with Eddie. Every time you sat on Eddie’s lap he literally wanted to rip you off of him and kiss you right in front of Eddie’s smug face. He was always smirking at Steve over your shoulder because he knew Steve liked you. He confronted him about it last week when they were at the arcade with Dustin and Mike.

“So. You like her don’t you?” Eddie just asked him out of the blue. Steve looked at him with a confused look on his face not really registering what he meant at first “Huh? Like who?”

“Don’t play dumb man, you know who I’m talking about” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes

“Why would you think she would ever like you back? You treated us like shit in highschool and just because she’s more confident and can stand to be in the same room as you, now you want her? Fuck that. She deserves better than that, she is so much more than how she looks.”

Steve was kind of taken back at first, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong “You don’t think I know that Munson? I don’t just like her because she’s hot. She also has this confidence and energy about her that’s just really attractive. She’s fucking funny and not afraid to be herself. She’s got that whole sugar and spice thing going on where she’s so sweet and gentle one second and the next she’s cussing like a sailor going off on these cute little tangents. I thought we established I’m not the guy I was in highschool anymore. I’m not some player trying to go through women. I like her.” he kind of didn’t mean to say ALL of that but it just kept coming out once he started talking about you he couldn’t help it.

“Okay I get it, you actually like her. Either way she’s never going to go for you, you aren’t even her type.” He grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s bright blue crew neck “I’ve never seen her be into a pretty boy like you, she likes dudes who look like they’re part of the lost boys clan or the dudes she sees on MTV.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes “Sooo, you then? If you love her so much then why aren’t you with her?” Eddie flushed and his face fell slightly “because man, she’s the most important person in my life. Imagine if we got together for real and then we broke up? Things wouldn’t be the same between us, I might lose her entirely”

“When you say ‘for real’ what does that mean?” Steve asked him, hoping it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

“I mean we do a lot of couple things, we go on bestfriend dates, we are super affectionate with each other, we fuck sometimes, but both of us are scared if we decided to be together for real it would ruin it” Eddie shrugged like he didn’t just metaphorically punch Steve in the chest with that information.

“So what? Are you guys exclusive or what? Because if you’re not, I’m going to ask her out.” Steve just shrugged trying to play it off.

“Dude. Are you seriously going to ask out my girl after what I just said!?”

“Yeah, DUDE. You just said she wasn’t yours so is she or isn’t she?”

“Now that I finally have you around without Eddie I can ask the question I’ve been dying to ask, what’s the deal with you two? Are you like, together?” Robin suddenly asked you out of the blue.

Her and Nancy finally convinced you to have a girls day with them. You went and got mani pedis and picked up lunch so you could eat it back at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment while you watched some movies Robin got from work.

“I mean… Technically? No. You could say we are like bestfriends with benefits I guess? We have kind of been fooling around off and on since sophomore year of highschool when we lost our virginity to each other.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“Yeah Robin, I’m okay with it. We decided a long time ago that us being together for real wasn't really an option. Imagine if we broke up? I couldn’t handle losing him.” You bit your lip, just the thought of losing Eddie made you anxious.

Now you had Nancy curious “So have you ever been with anyone else? Or are you guys like exclusive friends with benefits? Because if you’ve only ever been with him I’d say you’re pretty much together anyways.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had hookups and flings, so has Eddie. I had a few guys I went on a couple dates with when I was gone at school but I’ve never had an actual relationship really. Neither has he.”

“So you’re telling us, you’ve been fucking on and off and on for almost EIGHT YEARS, never had a real relationship, and yet you guys still aren’t actually together? Don’t you think that’s maybe the reason neither of you have ever had a relationship? You’re stuck on each other?” Nancy, always the voice of reason.

“I absolutely know that’s why, I compare every guy to Eddie and no one has measured up. He treats me like a princess, why would I want a boyfriend who treats me anything less than that?” You shrugged and took another bite of your egg roll.

“Okay but what about when you do find that person? Or he does? What then? Things will change either way.” Robin questioned. She had her own reasons for bringing this all up in the first place. She knew Steve liked you, and he made her promise not to mettle but just asking if you were single isn’t meddling, right?

“I don’t know Robin, we’ve never talked about it. We will cross that bridge when the time comes.” You hoped they would let it go after that. It’s not that you necessarily didn’t want to talk about your relationship with Eddie, it’s just whenever anyone brings up that it probably has an eventual expiration date you feel like your whole world is crashing down.

“So there’s really no one you’ve ever thought you really really liked?” Okay, maybe she was reaching meddling territory now.

“Nope. Never. Can we just watch dirty dancing now?”

You didn’t feel like elaborating more than that, especially since recently there was someone you’d started to like. It was confusing and very much against your will but you had started to develop a small crush on Steve. You tried really hard to give him the cold shoulder when you first got back, you spent years with feelings of animosity towards him but if even Eddie could give him another chance you figured you could too. Then of course he had to be just so sweet, and such a gentleman, always telling you that you looked pretty and he smelled so good. It honestly made you want to punch him in the face. Or kiss him. Or both.

Robin narrowed her eyes at you but decided to drop it for now, even though she could tell there was definitely something you weren’t telling them with how quickly you decided to change the subject.

“Yeah okay, let’s watch the movie. But I’m not letting this go forever.”

“I didn’t even think for a second that you would.” You laughed and pressed play on the VHS.

Your love life wasn’t brought up anymore after that but that didn’t keep you from thinking about it. What would happen if Eddie got a girlfriend? You and him were never exclusive but the thought of him actually loving someone made you feel sick. Did he feel the same way? You hoped he did. Does that mean you want things with him to be exclusive? You’d never really allowed yourself to have those thoughts but now you were starting to wonder.

Then there was Steve, who just added to your confusion. Something about him just drew you to him, even back in highschool when you felt nothing but negative feelings toward him it was like he was everywhere you looked. Maybe you always had a small crush on him but would’ve never in a million years admitted it to yourself back then. It’s not like you would’ve ever had a chance, he treated everyone like you like dirt under his shoe. He never bullied you directly but him picking on your friends was enough to tell you how he probably felt about you too. Then you remember that one time Junior year when he asked you out, did he actually mean it? The thought that he might like you made your insides heat up and you felt like one of those girls you used to make fun of in highschool for swooning over him.

Robin could practically see the gears turning in your head, it was very obvious you weren’t watching the movie at all and she knew she told Steve she wouldn’t involve herself but she just had this feeling…

“You like Steve don’t you?” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your cycle of spiraling thoughts and you whipped your head around to look at her.

“What!?”

[elles-home]

i know there’s a lot of jokes in the one piece fandom about how luffy will choose to dismantle an entire country’s government because someone in the country fed him once, and then he realises the country is rife with corruption, unfairness, lack of equity, and rampant abuse etc etc

now i want you to think of luffy’s definition of a hero; “we’re pirates!! i like heroes a lot, but i don’t want to be one!! pirates eat meat and have big parties!! but heroes take the meat and give it to poor people!! i want to eat meat!!” (another translation i saw had it as “for example, you have some meat right. pirates will feast on the meat but heroes will divide it amongst the people!! i want to eat that meat!!” — chapter 634 on mangago)

now. now let’s think about someone that shared their food with luffy. little baby girl otama. she’s poor herself, can only afford to have rice once a year on her birthday, yet when she found luffy was hungry, offered her rice to him no questions asked, even though it meant she would have to go without rice for another year

it’s not meat, no, but it’s food. heroes give their meat (food) away. otama could’ve had the food, kept it for herself, but in an act of kindness, selflessness, and gratefulness, she offered the one serving of rice she gets a year. to a stranger who was hungry and didn’t have the means to feed himself at that moment (read: poor)

otama is a goddamn hero in luffy’s mind you can’t tell me otherwise. he’s helping heroes

[aftersamu]

– LINKED PINKIES PAIRING: atsumu miya x gn!reader GENRE: flirty best friends, fluff, idiots who think everything is platonic. this is unfinished + open-ended ending, i'll probably re-write it, but i needed to get this out of the drafts! this is actually kind of messy, so i'm sorry that this isn't that good. give me a week of inspiration. ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏

it was a mystery to the reason why, or how, atsumu miya became your best friend.

he's a big dork who gets excited over anything and everything, and you... you ended up needing that big dork in your life. it happened so suddenly, and sooner than later, he became a daily routine in your life.

grabbing lunches together, sleepovers, trading necklaces and jewellery, even dragging each other to the bathrooms. that being said, it has been your obligation for the past two or three years to attend every one of atsumu's volleyball games.

which is where you are now.

leaning against the dividers of the court, talking to the blond who's stuffing onigiri's down his throat. "'tsumu, you're being messy." you say, grabbing the rice ball from his hand before using your thumb, doing the best to clean him up.

"aw, come on! let me be," he reaches for the food in your hand – only for you to shove it all into your mouth. raising a hand up to his chest, feigning hurt, "you always do this. strip me from my pre-game meals and needed energy."

"uh, no," you correct. "you end up cramping up halfway through, and get all whiny when you get subbed out." rolling your eyes at the memory of multiple scenarios from high school.

"you know me so well," atsumu muses, leaning closer to you. pushing him back, noticing the side glances from his teammates behind him.

"hmm, well i think your team needs you – so go bother them instead." gently pushing him back from the divider before waving him off.

atsumu, being the way he is, did what he always did. catching you off guard by placing a chaste kiss on your cheek, one that you never anticipate. scrunching your nose in fake disgust as you push him farther away.

"go!"

"no, not yet," he says, holding out his pinkie. "you'll be here after the game?"

"of course,"

"and, you promise you'll cheer me on?"

"i always do."

"promise?" he asks, holding out his pinkie for you to link. a traditional and ritual that you two have been doing for over the course of your friendship.

"promise," linking your pinkies, and kissing the knuckles of your thumbs. pulling apart, you wave him off, "now go!"

the blond laughs, blowing you a kiss before heading off to his team. receiving many questions and comments from the other players, ones he hears on a daily basis. "you guys do this every game, and you're telling us that you're not dating?"

atsumu turns back around, looking at the smile on your face as you talk to some friends from high school. feeling the corners of his lips quirk and his eyes soften, warmth and an odd sense of tranquility filling him.

"they just get embarrassed when i tell people we're dating," he jokes, "but you guys didn't hear it from me."

"they only get embarrassed because you two aren't actually dating," sakusa retorts. "you would be, but the two of you can't tell the difference between platonic and romantic feelings."

spinning around, "what are you talking about?" atsumu asks.

"you're not meant to look at your best friend the way you do," sakusa snorts, practically excusing himself from the conversation when he walks away.

[rantreader]

I officially finished #summerreadathon2022. I read 10 out of the 11 books I planned on reading plus a different novel and a graphic novel. Here are my comments.

Planned books

The Ophelia Girls by Jane Healey. It was pretty and you could see where the story was going the whole way. It wasn’t spectacular, but it was a pleasant summer read.

An Inconvenient Genocide by Geoffrey Robertson. This one was interesting. It didn’t focus on the genocide but on the ramifications of it and how divisive the situation is even today.

Growing Up Disabled in Australia edited by Carly Findlay. There was a great variety of stories included. I know they are all valid, but I do have my favourites.

Carrie by Stephen King. I recently commented on this book and how it felt like an obvious allegory for gun control in America. Apparently, this was unintentional, but I can't stop it from clouding my judgment.

Tarzan of the Apes and The Return of Tarzan by Egar Rice Burroughs. This book is so racist. What do you expect from a book written over 100 years ago set in Africa by a white man? The Return of Tarzan was a bit better. If you focus on the action, it was quite fun.

Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. It was a sweet story. I also recently ranted about it. The fact that it is so popular kind of ruins it. It is just meant to be a story about a friend. Not some amazing life-altering book you have to read.

Poirot’s Early Cases by Agatha Christie. I love Poirot so much. He is such a little shit.

My Fine Fellow by Jennieke Cohen. This is a gender-bent cooking version of My Fair Lady. I wish she used the same amount of description she used when discussing the food as she did in other situations.

The Shortest History of England by James Hawes. Parts of this were fascinating. I loved the part of the north-south divide. There are parts I wish he would focus on more. For example, he discussed the UK’s turn from Europe to America, yet he didn’t bring in Wallis Simpson? It is fast-paced, but you have to remember it is the entire history of England in 300 pages.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It’s always strange to read books that disregard general writing rules. It created a bleak atmosphere, which is needed, but I just couldn’t connect with the characters.

Extra books

Puddin’ by Julie Murphy. I accidentally got this one out instead of Dumplin’. It was fine, but the lack of Millie/Callie romance was a bit disappointing. I also feel like although Callie went through a character arch, Millie was pretty much the same person throughout it.

You Look Like Death: Tales from the Umbrella Academy by Gerard Way. The plot is a little weird and, really, it’s not that important. The fact that Klaus trusts so easily and he keeps getting used is heartbreaking. It also solidifies the idea that Klaus had a lot of shitty partners while growing up.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Irreplaceable Things: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You’ve both failed to take simple precautions; now you’re the one paying the price. 

words: 1930

tw: unplanned pregnancy, thoughts of abortion. 

The stick clatters to the tile floor. Your shaking hands reach down to pick it up again, and you’re hoping that the results might change in the time you lift it from the cold, unforgiving ground and up to your eyes. But they’re the same as before, plain as day. 

“Oh, god…” You whisper, feeling the strength leave your bones. It was only a matter of time before things began to unravel, and the endless options to solve the problem you faced were in front of you. But before you can even consider the tamest of options, you hear the door to the bathroom open, and you tuck the stick into an empty pocket of your backpack. For now, you would go out and train as if you didn’t find out the most important information of your life thus far. No one would suspect your circumstances had changed - things had changed drastically - and somehow you would convince them that the only thing they had to worry about were where their next recommendations were coming from. Once you exit the stall, you check your appearance as you wash your hands, then leave without acknowledging the other woman standing at the sink. 

The nausea, the moodiness, hell, the tender breasts were all signs that pointed toward the suspicion that you were in trouble. After briefly mentioning the issue to Shoko, she tossed the pregnancy test at you, along with three condoms. 

“I’m surprised either of you went without protection considering --” Shoko cut herself off, turning to rummage around in her dresser drawer and handing you a drawstring bag. “Just don’t let anyone see you with those.” 

You had been irresponsible. Paying the price was all you could do now, whether it meant you would carry the child to term and be kicked out of Jujutsu Tech, or you would--

“You took forever in the bathroom,” Satoru whined, dropping his shoulders. “I almost left for lunch without you.” You know that the threat was half-assed. If Satoru showed up to lunch without you in tow, Suguru would throw a fit. And even the blue-eyed man walking ahead of you wasn’t in the mood to fight with him. Yet. 

Thoughts of a child swirl around your mind as you follow Gojo to the restaurant. You can’t focus on anything else, and you wonder if you should tell Suguru, or if you should keep it to yourself like you want to. 

“I’m not going to ask why you’re so quiet,” Gojo tosses over his shoulder casually. “But if it has anything to do with the way my ass looks in these pants, I want you to keep it to yourself.” You choke out a laugh, momentarily forgetting your troubles, but you don’t catch Satoru’s relieved smile as you wipe away tears from your eyes. 

Before long, the restaurant appears and the both of you go inside, instantly greeted by the warm welcome of the staff members. When you spot the familiar half bun in the crowd of people, you point it out to Gojo, then make your way over to them. 

The closer you get, the more your feet drag against the cheap red carpet. A strong urge to tuck your tail and run washes over you, but you know that wouldn’t make anything easier. Suguru stands to greet you with a tender kiss, pressing his hand against your lower back before pulling out your seat beside him. 

“We thought you’d never show,” Shoko sighed, shuffling her menu on the table. 

“Y/n took ages in the bathroom. I was sure she flushed herself down the toilet,” Gojo gripes and Geto snorts in response. You catch the knowing glance from Shoko over your menu, but you don’t acknowledge it. You just look back to the words on the menu, the words blurring and losing shape the longer you stare. 

When the waitress comes around, you still don't know what to eat, and in your moment of indecision, Geto orders for you. 

“We’ll split it,” he murmurs, placing a hand on your thigh. “Gojo, you said something about losing your dorm room key today?” 

As the two banter back and forth about the case of the missing key, your thoughts overwhelm you again. You stare off into space and consider your options: for one, you could go to your town and to the clinic should you need this taken care of. Or you could tough it out. Adoption was an option, but that meant you would have to carry it to term, but it would be the safest thing to do… No child would be safe having two sorcerer parents who were always getting into trouble. 

The food arrives without fanfare or flourish, and while Suguru divides the lobster and rice into halves, your stomach lurches. You place a hand on his arm, and he looks up, pausing mid-cut. 

“I think I’ve lost my appetite.” 

The admission makes Suguru frown. He presses his lips together and places the utensils back on the table. 

“Do you want to go back to campus?” 

“I don’t want you to have to wait to eat,” you reason, standing up from the table quickly. “I think I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Feeling kind of woozy.” Before Suguru can argue with you, you grab your bag and leave, rushing out into the stale fall air. You try to walk as fast as you can back to campus, avoiding your rushing thoughts like the cars passing by, but to no avail. When you get back to your dorm, you throw open the door and toss your backpack onto your bed, fishing out the stick once more, hands trembling in fear.

“Please be a joke, please be a joke…” you mutter, flipping the damned plastic thing over.  

The two lines had faded a bit, but it was still painfully obvious that the verdict was in. After dropping the stick on your desk, you go into the bathroom and pull up your uniform shirt, feeling the fabric crumple under your fingers. Sticking a hand down your skirt and to your abdomen, you seek the evidence of anything with your fingers, but find nothing except tender skin. It would take some time, but if the test was right, you’d feel signs of growth within a few months. You don’t have time like that. 

It’s either being a jujutsu sorcerer or being a mother. 

There’s no compromise. No ‘and’s. The next thought dawns on you as if someone opened a window and let fresh air in. 

You could move out. 

You could leave Jujutsu Tech without a word, without any fuss, and go back home. With some convincing, your family would understand. They wouldn’t be upset. You don’t think about Suguru as you pack your clothes in a hurry, tossing them onto your desk and then stuffing them into a large suitcase that brought your things here in the first place. You can only make one trip, you reason, so you have to leave the non-essential things behind. Only take what’s irreplaceable. 

It’s only when you’re rummaging through your tshirts that you happen across three of Suguru’s shirts, neatly stacked and waiting for someone to wear them. You consider leaving them behind as a final goodbye instead of a note or a text. But another part of you wants to take them, wants to feel the cloth that touched his skin resting against yours and engulfing your frame. You want something to remember him by; something that you can look at and remember all of the good memories at Jujutsu Tech… 

You press a shirt to your face and inhale the freshwater scent of Suguru’s cologne. It was just as fresh as the first day you two had met. Without warning, you feel tears slip out of your eyes and run down your cheeks in rapid succession. You couldn’t tell Su goodbye. Not when he would beg you to stay and make it work and push you to stay by his side. You couldn’t cripple him like that and make an even bigger target for his enemies to aim at. 

Conversation outside of your door reminds you that time is running out and fast. No doubt Suguru was on his way to confront you about your sudden exit, and you would need to be gone before his bulky frame walked through the door. There were no other options. 

With a grunt, you wipe your tears away and press his shirts into your overflowing suitcase. The flap won’t even close correctly as you try to press on it and zip it, but you fail miserably. Tears of frustration leak out of your eyes this time, and you jerk the zipper back and forth, trying to dislodge the item of clothing that caught the contraption. 

Heavy footsteps are making their way toward you and you know time is up. You’re caught before anyone even opens the door, but you still try to get the suitcase closed. As the door unlocks, the zipper breaks, and you’re left with an overfilled suitcase and three very confused sorcerers standing in the doorway. 

“Y/n? What are you doing?” You turn to see Geto, Shoko, and Gojo all standing in the doorway, Suguru’s right hand holding the leftovers from the restaurant. 

“I…” The words won’t come out. 

“Gojo, let’s let them talk.” Shoko pushes the sullen white-haired man off to his dorm, realizing what the fuss is about before anyone can utter another word.

Suguru still stands in the doorway, brows furrowing. “You’re packing.” The statement is met with more tears and he looks down the hallway before entering and shutting the door, placing the food on the counter. Without words, he examines the mess around the room, noticing the haphazardness of the scene. He picks up a few items of clothing from the floor and walks around with his hands behind his back before stopping in front of you and cupping your face between his palms. “Tell me.” 

“I can’t,” you croak, wetting his fingers with your tears. 

“Don’t start keeping secrets from me now, kitten. What’s got you so worked up?” The tenderness of his voice breaks your resolve, and you slide your eyes over to the desk where a pile of clothes sit on top of your shame. Suguru notices and removes his hands from your face. As he removes your clothes and puts them on the chair, the stick slides off of the desk and hits the floor again. 

I could run for it right now, you think. But your limbs don’t move an inch, and Geto doesn’t need to bend over to take a closer look at the stick. He already knows what’s taken place by the fact that it resides within the four walls of your room. 

“Is it mine?” he whispers, staring at the white thing blankly. 

“Of course,” you reply, hands creeping toward your abdomen. “There’s been no one but you for the past year.” He pauses, wringing his hands carefully. 

“And we’re keeping it,” he states, but it felt more like a question to you. 

“If that’s what you want.” Before you can blink, he advances toward you and presses his lips against yours, holding you close. When you break the kiss, Suguru nudges your nose with his, running a hand up and down your back. “But how--” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” You relax into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I’ll protect you like I’ve always done. And I’ll protect our child.”

[milks-writings]

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫  ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ PAIRING: Atsumu Miya x Male!Reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ WARNINGS: mention of stabbing, Hurt buT LOTS OF CUDDLES AND COMFORT AFTERWARD, mention of death (meaning of the red anemone)

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ REQUEST: all right so.. atsumu ⭐️ can you please write m!reader and him being teammates and reader being a big friend of osamu. he knows that reader is gay and in love with his brother, so he always like.. quietly supports him and takes care of him, helping with reader’s crush on his chaotic brother :D so imagine a training camp mhm, the team spends all the time together and reader has all this *gay panic* since atsumu is always there, near him (i also just can tell atsumu is damn handsy person) atsumu is mocking reader (in a loving way of course, cuz he crushes over a sweet boy himself) since reader is that shy and cute, but he doesn’t understand his words hurt him because reader is too sensitive to his words and actually thinks that atsumu is making fun of him. so just one day without any intense atsumu makes reader cry with his mocking and like.. he has no idea what to do and he’s like “eey.. wait.. wait! samu! he’s crying! what should i do?!” :0 please gimme some hurt/comfort 🤍

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ A/N: OMG YES ATSUMU REQUEST HASHDFHIXOANSDF THANKS SO MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN--

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Masterlist

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Scenario: After one loss would always follow one win

Shuffling over the court and leaving some squeaking noises behind was almost a calming sound that came to your ears, echoing through the big volleyball court. Between the two sides, of your teams side and the other teams side was only a net that divided the thick air. There would be always one team at least one point ahead, and depending on who it was, the air seemed to be bearable or rather toxic and suffocating.

It was only a training camp, yet the feelings were fatal. Each point would cause the opposite team to get panic, to fill up with the anxious feeling that screams ‘Just one point’

No one would give up so easily. No one wanted to give up so easily. It was just a training camp, yet it felt like their life depended on this whole game. Each point felt like the string was about to just cut into a half, but no one knew who would get the longer string since the scissors were wandering on the string, waiting for some random moment to finally break the nervous atmosphere and end this whole game that drove everyone insane. The heavy breaths filled the court with some kind of beat, since at this point everyone just wanted to rest, yet no one was ready to give up already. Until the last bit of power would they fight.

For a brief moment, you thought, only a brief second, Atsumu would look back at you. The tiring game must’ve made you delusional. It was quite some while since you guys played against such a great team, also known as Itachiyama. Osamu had told you quite often that Atsumu never really labelled himself with a sexuality, giving you at least some rising hope. Honestly, your crush towards him felt like trying to take care of an almost dead flower. And not just one flower, it was the well known  red anemone that symbolizes death or the act of forsaken love. For some reason, it never wanted to open up. The petals stayed up, risen to the sky and not showing the truth behind the facade of the red petals. The secret was just laying on the stigma of the flower, waiting to get opened like a present and to outshine everyone's appearances. But as long as the flower wouldn’t open, the love felt one sided.

The last point felt like a long moment of silence. It wasn’t a real game, yet it was laying heavily on your shoulders. Your team lost. Kita would be disappointed, but you just knew that he wouldn’t scold you. As a Libero it was literally your duty to keep the ball over the floor. Even if it was one centimetre, one finger between the ball and the floor, anything could be done to win this god damn game. For a moment, your mind tricked you into thinking that this was an actual game, but seeing the others just walking off with the words “thanks for the training game.”

Osamu already had taken place beside you with two bottles of water, passing you one of the ones he held while just letting out a small sigh. “That was intense” He admitted, and if he said such a thing he really meant it. He was fucking right. This game was intense.

The water slowly went down your throat, giving you a cool down and filling your senses with some refreshing thoughts, among with the thought of Atsumu.

That’s right, the boy you have a crush on, the boy who is the twin of one of your closest friends, Osamu Miya. It was like your thoughts had to manifest the boy that filled your mind with worries but also with dreams you never thought would come true. “Hey!” The setters hand landed on your shoulder, making your cheeks heat up and leaving a pinkish blush on them, almost like it was naturally after a hard game. But sadly the blush didn’t blend in, it rather made your red exhausted face ever worse. You could swear, for a moment the wind hit the anemone, almost opening the flowers with the sweet sound of the wind blowing but somehow the windflower stayed closed, not letting you enter yet.

“Ya wanna grab some food with me and ‘Samu?” Atsumu asked you, making you slowly nod in agreement.

It has been a curse or a blessing that Atsumu always suggested you three to hang out. Being around those Twins was like walking on a thin rope, over the water with shaky feet. You could never know what would happen, if the rope would just tear apart or if you would fall into the water out of balance and if anyone would safe you. “I didn’t even agree, jerk!” Osamu huffed out at Atsumu’s statement. And there they went again. Barking at each other like two mad dogs, yet they didn’t rip their heads off since they still loved each other as siblings. Osamu soon snapped out of it though, and gave you all his attention again. “Ya want onigiri?” His eyebrow raised in sync with his words, like the words were pulling it slowly up and the question mark set an end to the pulling, but instead tilted his head to the side. With slowly moving your head up and down as a nod, you answered his question. It was the first day of the training camp so the left overs from the drive to the training camp were still good and it would’ve been a pity to let them get bad. “Yer just tryna to get him fat!” Atsumu snapped at Osamu, somewhat sounding mad for something. You weren’t sure if Atsumu preferred skinny people -- or if he was trying to make sure that Osamu wouldn’t feed you too much so you could still eat together. Nevertheless, you didn’t take it personally, yet. Just brushed it off and moved on, thinking that nothing too bad could happen with ignoring that. “No I am not! Back off pisshair!” Osamu complained with a hiss. Sometimes he could only wonder how you could fall in love with such an idiot like him. “Let’s grab some food” You finally broke the heavy and almost hatred atmosphere that was among you three thanks to the twins. No one could blame them though. It was just a typical conversation between two siblings.

A small wind seemed to have blown over the flower when you three were sitting in the small cafeteria and chatted. The anemone was about to open, to show it’s real colour, but you got hit with the train of disappointment as soon as Atsumu let his guards down again and begun to mock you. “Yer aren’t in yer top form today huh?” Atsumu smirk only grew with the last words, beginning to push you into the corner of just a breakdown. “Not really” You honestly admitted. It always had been him mocking you, him pushing you off your edge emotionally. With pressing your lips together you hoped to swallow the slightly painful comment down your throat, but nothing seemed to help. “Yer gotta be more self confident!” Atsumu implied, almost complained about you. He wanted to help you. For the three people on the table, Osamu, Atsumu and you it was very clear that Atsumu cared about you, but the way he would say things would be sometimes sharp, like a stab in your heart. But in reality he would be patting your head and stabbing your negative feelings instead of you. “Listen, it’s not easy you know” Your voice laid hoarse in the room, creating a short yet uncomfortable silence. Just when Osamu was about to butt in, Atsumu had taken advantage of the situation. “What if yer-” Just as Atsumu was about to continue his sentence, the tears that you had swallowed down along with the rice balls had just came up, running down your cheeks. The mocking sometimes got overwhelming to you. All you wanted were sweet words, but all you got was sweet mocks. Of course, it was probably his way to tell you that he liked you… or not. “No no pretty boy don’t ya cry!” Atsumu’s voice was filled with worries and confusion, immediately jumping up and sitting besides you. Osamu, who sat on the other side of you, just let Atsumu be. He should take care of you. He was the one who thought that mocking was a way for flirting and a way of showing someone his love. “Osamu what should I do?” he asked confused, but his twin just carelessly kept eating the Onigiri, like you two had been ghosts.

The tears that had been just streaming down your cheeks were like a soft, yet meaningful wind that had blown over the red windflower. With the soft wind blow, the dead petals fell down onto the ground, and the flower opened like a present, showing of its beautiful colourful petals. They were glowing under the rain, almost like the sun kept on shining behind the clouds. If a human eye would get to see the bright presence of the flower, they could forget for a second about the rain that was pouring down. And if someone, who saw the flower opening up and showing their beauty, would see that it was actually a white anemone, just waiting to show their sincerity.

“Hey hey hey- I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Atsumu said while getting a hold of your hands, “I really like you, you know and I tried to flirt with you” It was like he begun to rant his heart out, not trying to find an excuse to hurt you, but to explain the situation to you. To make you understand better, to cheer you a little up. “Let’s uh… Let’s get some food, huh? Or a warm tea?” Atsumu offered, not letting you talk until now. The tears that had been streaming down your face became less and less after seeing the not red, but actually white anemone in his eyes. The rain stopped.

“You… you do like me?” Your voice was dipped in some spark of hope, and also sealed with some confusion.

“Do ya want tea?” “Atsumu do you really like me or did you use it to cheer me up?” “I am not sure,” “You have to give me an honest answer. Yes or no.” With a sigh the boy finally gave in. It was useless to fight with you now. “Yeah kinda like ya” a small pout formed on his lips, seeming to be rather a little embarrassed than pleased by saying that.

“I like you too” There was nothing to save or to destroy now. You had been at your end, emotionally, and Atsumu also just opened up like a book, letting you read whatever had been written deep down in his feelings and mind. “Yer want cuddles?”

That question took you off guard.

Cuddles was the last thing you would expect him to ask you, but could you say no?

With a small sob that had been still saved from the crying just a few minutes ago your head slowly motioned to a yes, making his goofy smile grow. “Good thing we share a room!” He cheered, ruffling your hair.

After that sentence you can guess what happened.

Lots of loving cuddles and hugs were exchanged this night.

After one loss would always follow one win.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Sky Date - Prologue

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date prologue, 云霄之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that you have to read this before embarking on the actual date, because it contains background information and sweet domestic bliss you wouldn't want to miss :>

[ This date was released on 14 April 2021 ]

[ Part One: A Dream About to Take Flight ]

MC: Ahhh! My life is up to me. Not. Up. To. Fate!

The small dice in my furled hand is tossed around several times. When I loosen my grip, it rolls quickly on the map -- ‘2′.

Gavin: Hahaha--

Gavin laughs, but hurriedly retracts his smile when he senses my murderous gaze.

Gavin: It’s okay, things will definitely take a favourable turn in the next round.

Sulky, I let out of a huff. I watch as he picks up the dice, casually rolling a '5′. Then, he cheerfully shifts his own plane on the map by six spaces.

[Note] In the game of Aeroplane Chess, your plane can only leave the starting point if you roll a ‘5′ of ‘6′!

MC: ...

It’s a Saturday afternoon. Gavin and I had nothing to do after eating, so we randomly grabbed a set of Aeroplane Chess from the supermarket to play. But I didn’t expect to have such a terrible gaming experience!

Although it’s been the sixth or seventh round, I just can’t the ‘6′ I need to get my plane out of the hangar. On the other hand, Gavin has always been able to get it to take flight smoothly, and very quickly reaches the goal.

MC: Gavin, with your kind of luck, there’s no need to waste it on playing games with me.

After pondering for a long while, I offer him a serious suggestion.

MC: Let’s head out to buy a lottery ticket?

Gavin: Why don’t we play something else? The paper model from last time was only half done. Since we have time today, we could get it done at one go.

At this moment, the phone on the floor beside me rings. Seeing the familiar number, I tap on the hands-free function.

Nurse: Miss MC, the physical report done at our hospital is ready. Please bring your receipt and collect it within fifteen working days.

MC: Mm, got it, thank you.

Gavin is currently storing the Aeroplane Chess pieces into the box. Hearing this conversation, he gives me a puzzled look.

Gavin: Haven’t you already gone for a physical examination this year? Are you feeling unwell?

MC: No, no. I’m using the report for the registration.

I deliberately pretend to be secretive, leaning towards him. Then, I show him the registration form that I had submitted online beforehand.

MC: I’m going to get a Private Pilot License.

-

[ Part Two: First Day of School ]

On the first day of aviation training, I set the alarm to wake me up at 6.30am. Even Gavin is stunned at the level of enthusiasm I have for learning.

Gavin: The courses for the aviation license can get pretty dry. You have to be mentally prepared.

MC: Are you referring to things like meteorology, aircraft structure, air traffic regulations?

Gavin: Mm. Aside from the exams, such knowledge is necessary for aircraft pilots.

While he speaks, he lifts his head to give me a smile.

Gavin: But they definitely won’t stump you.

After packing my things, I grab a random jacket and prepare to leave.

The classes take place in the suburbs, and it takes an hour to get there. Despite waking up early, I’d be late if I don’t hurry up.

But Gavin is clearly not too worried about this matter. He holds a slice of bread in his mouth while looking at his phone.

Gavin: Since I’m sending you there, you won’t be late. Before your first official lesson, I’ll give you a flight class.

I walk over to him, pulling up the zipper of his uniform, and also picking up the motorcycle helmet from the table.

MC: To prevent this from being a mere flash in the pan, I want to leave the joy of flight to the end of the course. But if going by land would make me late...

Gavin rolls the bread into his mouth, taking the helmet from my hand.

Gavin: No matter the route, you won’t be late. Oh yes, what class are you taking today?

-

[ Part Two, Option 1: Principles of Meteorology ]

Instructor: I’ll ask some small questions to test your foundation and see if you take note of knowledge in this area.

He opens the PowerPoint presentation, then uses a laser pointer to point at the image on the first page - it's a cumulus cloud with a flat bottom layer and a high, upward curve at the top.

Instructor: Does anyone know what this cloud is called?

MC: Cumulus congestus cloud.

Instructor: Correct. The next question - when the International Civil Aviation Organisation observes cloud volume, how many segments do they divide the sky into?

MC: It should be eight segments.

I recall that Gavin brought this up before.

Instructor: Not bad, miss. You did preparatory work beforehand, didn’t you?

MC: No no, I have a friend who has a better understanding in this area, so I was just influenced.

After saying this, chuckles drift from the surroundings. The instructor nods in understanding.

Instructor: In that case, you won’t have a problem during the exams.

MC: ...I’ll do my best.

After all, my confidence is limited when it comes to exams.

Just as I’m thinking about this, I receive a notification on my phone. Gavin has sent me an incredibly large document file.

Gavin: I don’t know how to teach, so I compiled some materials you might need for the exam.

I grip my phone, suddenly feeling like the weather is so good that it makes one carefree and relaxed.

It’s just an exam. I’ll definitely be fine.

-

[ Part Two, Option 2: Aviation Regulations Class ]

At 2pm in the afternoon, the sun shines from above. I had a full meal, so fighting against the sleeping bug is a difficult challenge.

Instructor: Before the flight, the captain has to carry out the necessary inspections of the aircraft. Until the inspections are complete, you can’t take off. This regulation is easy to understand. In fact...

When the dullness of the course matches how fine the weather is, the entire classroom gets immersed in a drowsy atmosphere.

I take a few deep breaths and pat my face... but I still feel like sleeping.

Instructor: Okay, we’ll take a 10 minute break. You students look sleepy, so go wash your faces to freshen up.

The moment he finishes speaking, the sound of heads plopping down on the tables can be heard all around.

Just as I prepare to stand up and stretch, my phone suddenly vibrates.

Delivery boy: Hello, I’ve placed your take-out at the main counter.

MC: Take-out?

But I didn’t order take-out...

While I’m puzzled, the young lady from the main counter very politely brings the item to the classroom - it’s a cup of coffee.

There’s only one simple line on the note of the take-out: Persevere for a little longer. Gavin.

I retrieve the coffee from the bag, taking a tiny slip. The instructor walks past, giving me a glance from the side.

Instructor: Are you drinking coffee or milk tea? You’re smiling so happily.

MC: Being able to swim in the ocean of knowledge is always meant to be a happy thing.

The instructor gives me an expression which says, “like I’d actually believe you”.

MC: Instructor, let’s continue with the lesson. I’m not drowsy anymore. Learning for another four hours is no problem at all!

-

[ Part Three: Being Your Co-pilot ]

Gavin: Do you want to head out for a stroll after dinner? It seems to be really cooling outside.

I’m currently taking out plates from the kitchen drawer, subconsciously craning my head to glance outside.

MC: It’s going to rain, isn’t it...

Gavin: Really? I’ll check the weather forecast. Earlier in the afternoon, Eli mentioned taking out some time to wash his car at night. I even thought today would be a good day.

I step into the living room, setting down plates on the dining table. 

MC: There are just some cumulonimbus clouds in the sky. It might not really rain.

Gavin scrolls through the real-time weather, then gives me a smile.

Gavin: It’s really going to rain.

He gets up, opening the rice cooker and scooping a full bowl of rice for me.

Gavin: At first, I even thought you’d find such theoretical knowledge boring. I didn’t think you’d learn them so earnestly. Looks like you really want to get the license.

MC: Of course. I want to be your co-pilot.

Although Gavin hasn’t even scooped rice for himself, he’s already served me a huge pile of vegetables.

Gavin: Sure. I’ll wait for the day you get your license.

Just as I’m about to talk about how assured I am about getting the license, I realise that the plate on my hand is becoming fuller and fuller. 

Before I can even voice my question, Gavin responds.

Gavin: Learning is tough. You need to eat a little more. I also bought you ice-cream. It’s in the second compartment of the freezer. I remember you mentioning that as long as you eat something delicious during difficult times, you can press on easily.

MC: ...hahaha! Mm! After having this meal, I’ll complete all my post-class homework!

-

[ Aviation Terminology Class ]

MC: Calling for the control tower. Number N8596 has arrived, and is requesting for a landing gate.

Gavin (through the phone): Number N8596, you may use aircraft Gate Number One.

Gavin’s light-hearted laughter drifts from the phone.

Gavin: Shouldn’t your class end at 7pm? It’s only 6pm.

MC: The plan was to be dismissed at 7pm, but... for some reason, those in my class were really interested in the Aviation Terminology class, so they did their preparatory work in advance. The three hour class was over in one and a half hours. The instructor said that we already grasped all the key points, so we were dismissed early. What about you? How much longer till you’re off work?

Gavin: For me... less than half an hour. You could think about what to do with this unexpectedly free hour. I remember that there’s a new dessert shop opposite the cinema.

MC: You remembered? I never even told you about it. How could you remember? Officer Gavin, you better tell me the truth. You didn’t remember it - you specially searched it up.

Gavin: Mm, I specially searched it up. I even found that there are claw machines along the shopping street on the ground level of the cinema. 

MC: Looks like what I’m going to do in the next hour has already been scheduled. 

Gavin: Wait for me at the office first. I’ll look for you once I’m done with the work on hand.

-

[ Part Four: Flight Practice ]

Today’s the first flight practice class. The instructor is sitting in the co-pilot seat, watching my every move throughout the entire journey.

I wasn't nervous at first, but each time he glances at me, I involuntary wonder if I’ve done something wrong.

In an instant, I recall the fear of taking the aviation exam...

Until the plane successfully takes flight, I keep feeling as though the thing suspending in the air isn’t the plane, but my heart.

Instructor: It’s rare for you to make a trip up here. What’s there to be nervous about? Come, lift your head and look at the sky.

At this moment, countless gripes flash across my mind: What’s so nice about the sky? I’ve seen all kinds of skies. Right now, all I want is to fly the plane...

But the moment I lift my head, I’m rendered speechless.

Instructor: How is it? The first time I saw it, I was so stunned that I couldn't speak either.

MC: It’s really beautiful.

Sunlight casts a layer of golden hue on the soft and white clouds, blending the colours of gold and crimson.

I’m unable to describe how the scenery before me makes me feel. 

It’s a feeling which... makes one feel that life has meaning.

All of a sudden, another thought surfaces in my mind: I wonder what went through Gavin’s mind when he saw such a sight for the first time.

The instructor sitting next to me glances at me from the side.

Instructor: Thinking about your boyfriend again?

MC: [blushing] ...no!

Instructor: It’s normal. Each time I’m flying, I can’t help but think of my wife. There isn’t a reason to it. It’s just a sudden thought, an involuntary reaction.

The instructor laughs as he gives me advice with a contagious smile.

Instructor: If you’re thinking about him, just do it. It’s fine. It’s a normal thing. When you see certain things, your natural reaction is to think of someone.

MC: ...Instructor, I usually can’t tell, but you’re actually quite philosophical.

I grab the joystick of the plane, watching as countless clouds drift past leisurely.

All I want to do is take a photograph of this moment for Gavin.

Date: here

-

Gavin watching as I drool over the thought of Eli scrubbing his car in the rain while wearing a singlet:

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

If you could create your own meta episode of Supernatural, what would you include in it?

*refills drink* *cracks knuckles*

I would put every single character on spn on the reality tv show Survivor and then do an entire season of it.

For those who haven't seen the show: basic premise

A bunch of strangers are divided in 2 (sometimes 3) tribes, and 'castaway' on an island. Limited food (rice/beans, you can win fishing gear and other items in challenges) and they have to build their shelter and form a society. They then compete against the other team in challenges. Losing team has to vote a member out. Once it's down to a certain number, the teams merge and it's every man for himself. Top 2 (sometimes 3) will then have a chance to plead their case for the grand prize - a million bucks - the TWIST being that once the tribes merge, any player voted out is a member of the jury - so, the people you pissed off are the ones you have to convince that you should be the one who wins.

There's also little twists like a "hidden immunity idol" that keeps you safe during a vote (you must play it before the vote is cast generally, there are exceptions) and an "immunity necklace" you can win during individual challenges that also keeps you safe. Usually alliances form within the teams as well as the show progresses. Then they get blown up. It's dramatic. It's fun. Jeff Probst is an Emmy-winning host. There're some flaws and there's also been controversy with the show, but overall I have enjoyed it Anyway. The SPN characters on it? A fucking riot.

The beauty of this is that it would call everyone out in an absolutely amazing way, because the show itself brings out the most bare and basic tendencies so it's just basically character analysis (which is what a good meta episode should do). Yes Jeff Probst would still host, yes Dean would absolutely stare at him and lick his lips like he does at Dr. Sexy.

Dean and Cas would be on opposite tribes but scheming how to save each other the entire time by manipulating everyone on their tribe because at the "end of the day it was about saving one man" etc. (this actually happened with irl people who are now married in a season of Survivor, Boston Rob and Amber -- yes I know I am total trash I follow them on instagram too their kids are very cute).

Benny would be on Dean's team, and it's weird bc its kind of like purgatory but its not but Dean keeps forgetting about that.

Benny: DEAN what are you doing, I thought "going to shit in the woods" meant you were trying to search for the immunity idol

Dean: No, I really wanted to go shit in the woods. Here can you shave my face with this machete.

The challenges are very specific, some being strength but others also mental such as trivia (the lore, script directions, deleted scenes, the possibilities are endless). There's an auction where you can win food but also strategic advantages in the game (hangry Dean would give it all up for the first cheeseburger on the table, calling it now. Cas would win the advantage - angels don't need to eat).

There's also a family day where family members come to visit and I can just envision John walking in and Cas racing out to punch him in the face before he even tries to give Dean a hug.

Plus its always in a tropical climate so like. Everyone is in underwear 90% of the time. A true Media Experience.

**I actually have texted Misha that I think he'd be great on this show irl

***Not because of the everyone is in underwear thing

****okay, maybe a little because of that.

(sorry to bombard you with another very specific hyperfixation of mine, Survivor aficionados where are you at!)

drinking tequila, send me asks

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 6: I’ve Got a Bad Queso Loving You

Pining. Food that may or may not be a disaster. The end of an era.

Also people actually wanted to be tagged for updates?? That makes my heart so happy <3

Tag List: @heyoitslysso @unknown-and-invisible

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

  It was weird, walking into the studio by himself for the first time. Finn kept expecting Logan to be right by his side like always and it hurt a little every time Finn remembered. He walked into the kitchens where he was greeted by a sunny smile and kind eyes and dimples.

He still missed Logan, but it was hard to mope with Leo Knut around.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, motioning for Finn to join him at the station. “Welcome to the final four.”

“Thanks. It feels weird here.”

Leo hummed. “Quiet, right?”

“Definitely less hectic.” Finn agreed, leaning his hip against the counter. “So what are we cooking today?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me? We’re cooking for someone special to you. I’m assuming that’s Logan, right?” At Finn’s nod a strange, unreadable expression flashed across Leo’s face before he continued. “Okay, so what types of food do you think of when you think of him?”

Finn thought about it, then smiled. “Our first date – after years and years of being friends and crushing on each other but refusing to do anything about it – was at a Mexican restaurant. We were on a roadie and went to go get dinner together and I was so frustrated at this point that I kind of just blurted, ‘Is this a date?’” Finn laughed a little at the memory. “And Lo, he just stared at me with those big green eyes of his for a moment and said, ‘I sure hope so.’ And that was it. No more drama, no more fuss. Just those two sentences – that was all we needed.”

The look from earlier was back on Leo’s face. Finn still didn’t know what it meant.

“I think we can definitely work with that.” He said finally. “How about we elevate a Mexican dish? Something to be meaningful but to also showcase your cooking? I've got a few recipes in mind. What about grilled citrus-marinated chicken?”

Finn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Alright. Pulled pork tamales with corn salsa? Polenta stacks? Chipotle Mahi Mahi burrito bowl?”

“Oh!” Finn said excitedly. “I like that one. Logan calls me Fish sometimes.”

Leo laughed. “Why?”

“Nicknames are kind of a thing in hockey. It’s considered weird if you don’t have one. I’m Harzy, Harz, Fish, and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“And Logan?”

“He’s Tremz or Tremzy, usually.” He looked over at the blond, propping his chin in his hand and smiling. “You want a nickname?”

“Oh, god. With a last name like Knut, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to go off of.” He laughed, turning to head towards the pantry. Finn followed after him like the love-struck puppy he was.

“Nut. Nutty. Peanut. Peanut butter. Nutter Butter. Honey bunches of nut – “

“How have you already come up with so many?” Leo stretched to grab a bowl off the top shelf, his t-shirt shifting up to reveal pale skin Finn desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

“I’m a professional hockey player.”

“Fair enough. Can you head to the spices and grab smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder?”

Finn grabbed the ingredients and met Leo back at the station. “Ready to get started? You’ll get the printed recipe and you can take as many notes as you want now and use them tonight.”

Finn clicked his pen in response, earning another smile. “Let’s do this.”

“So we’re going to combine olive oil, chipotle chiles, garlic, smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder into a bowl and whisk it really good. Then you can add the mahi mahi and toss it in there. Next we’re going to place it in the fridge while we start the rice.” Leo covered the bowl and set it in the fridge before reaching for a pot and turning the stove on.

“Add coconut milk and some coconut water to a pot and bring it to a low boil before adding rice, salt, unsweetened coconut and coconut oil. Stir to combine, then place the lid on the pot and turn the heat down to the lowest setting possible. Following so far?”

Finn nodded, definitely feeling a little overwhelmed.

Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “You got this. Next, let the rice to cook for ten minutes then turn the heat off completely. Let the rice sit on the stove, covered for another 20 minutes, then remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork. Add the cilantro and lime juice – “

“No cilantro.”

Leo looked up from his pot. “What?”

“No cilantro.” Finn repeated. “Lo doesn’t like cilantro.”

“Got it. No cilantro. I think we’ve got enough seasoning without it.” Leo grabbed another bowl and pushed some ingredients towards him on the counter.

“Now we’re going to make the salsa. Add the diced mango, chopped strawberries, jalapeño, lime juice, pinch of cayenne and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Toss it, cover it, and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve. Now we’re going to cook that fish.” Leo grabbed the fish out of the fridge and sent him a sly look. “Hopefully this doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Oh man, wait until Logan hears that.”

Leo fiddled with the settings on the grill, which made Finn a little nervous. As seen in the build your own burger competition, he wasn’t the best with grills. He’d scared away all the ducks with how loud he screamed when he turned the grill on too high and flames erupted from it.

“You’re going to want a medium heat to cook this fish. Once the grill is nice and hot, add the mahi mahi, skin side facing up. Cook these for about 4-5 minutes and then flip them and cook until they’re crisp and mostly cooked through. This is super important: remove the skin.  We’re going to be cutting this fish into chunks and having pieces of fish skin in there would be really gross.

“Last thing is to plate these. All you’re going to do is divide the rice among your tortilla bowls and add the lettuce, black beans, and corn. Divide up the fish and then top each bowl with salsa, queso, and a dollop of sour cream. And you’re done!” Leo looked over at Finn, who was still writing notes. “Not so bad, right?”

Finn gave him a blank stare, then ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Go over it again one more time?”

“Sure.” Leo pushed one of the plates over to Finn. “Want to try some first?”

“Fuck yes.”

***

Logan stood in the studio hallway yet again, waiting with the rest of the families the final four contestants were cooking for tonight. It was going to be weird, being on the opposite side of the judging table. But at least he wasn’t cooking.

They finally got the cue to enter the kitchen and his eyes immediately found Finn, who was grinning madly and running right at him – whether he was allowed to or not. Logan laughed as Finn collided with him, hugging him close. “You just saw me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

Logan melted a little at that and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Finn whined, shooting a longing look over at Leo. “Lo, you would not believe – “

“Please head back to your stations, recruits!” Dorcas called.

“Gotta go.” Finn sighed, taking a step back. Logan gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

“Recruits, tonight you’ll be creating dishes for your loved ones. And your team leaders, of course. You can use any notes you’ve taken. You have an hour to complete this task and your time starts… now!”

Logan took his seat at the judges table (weird) and watched as Finn dashed off to the pantry. He made small talk with the other family members as time began to tick down much slower than he remembered from his time on the show. He turned his head when Leo sat down next to him and smiled almost nervously.

“I hope you’re not too mad at me for last week.”

“Nah,” Logan said with a shrug, doing everything he could think of to slow his heartrate down. “I deserved it. I served you guys raw pizza dough.”

“Only because I suggested you start over.”

Logan laughed incredulously. “Because my pizza wasn’t a pizza! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He looked over at Finn, who was shying away from the grill as he threw the fish on it. “I’m glad he made it instead of me. He’s been so excited to be on this show.”

“He’s really improved a lot. You both did.”

“I’m still not sure I trust either of us in the kitchen.”

“Baby steps.” Leo said with a smile. “You’re more capable than you think.”

He glanced at the clock and let his voice carry to the contestants. “One minute left, recruits!”

Finn glanced up from his plating, cursed, and started working faster.

“Five, four, three, two, one, time’s up! Stop what you’re doing and step away from your plates!”

“I can see why you like this so much.” Logan said, eyes still on Finn as he looked down at his plates critically. “You get to sit here, no stress, and eat people’s food. This is the dream.”

“Not on this show. You should’ve tried some of the earlier dishes this season. I got food poisoning twice.”

“You did what?”

“It might’ve been three times if I’d eaten that chicken you tried to serve in the first challenge.” Leo teased.

“Why isn’t giving a chef food poisoning an immediate elimination?”

“Because then we’d have very few recruits left, and that would be a very short season.”

Finn set down his plates, smiling nervously. Logan looked down and smiled softly. “Mexican food.”

“No cilantro, just how you like it.”

God, Logan didn’t deserve him.

“Let’s see how this tastes.” Leo said, looking down at his plate. “The presentation is really nice.”

They both took bites of their food. The fish was dry, but Logan thought the rest of it was really good.

“It’s under-seasoned a little bit,” Leo commented. “And the fish is a little dry, but your salsa is perfect and the ratios of everything else in the bowl is very nice.”

Logan grinned up at Finn. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing this recipe home.”

“We need move on to the next contestant. Nice job, Finn.”

Finn beamed and grabbed his plates back.

***

“And the chef who will be leaving us tonight is…” Logan held Finn’s hand and waited for Leo to finish.

“Finn. I’m sorry, your time as a recruit is over. Please turn in your apron.”

Finn sighed, squeezed Logan’s hand, and stepped forward.

“It was really close, but in the end the under-seasoned and overcooked fish did you in.” Leo said, looking apologetic. “I’ve really enjoyed having you on the show. You’ve been a joy to teach.”

“Thanks for having me.” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he handed over his apron. “I had a blast.”

After the cameras stopped rolling, Logan and Finn made sure to find Leo before they left. He was scrubbing down the grill and looked up when he noticed them. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Logan replied, unabashedly staring and trying to memorize everything he could. Was it weird to miss someone when you hadn’t even said goodbye yet? When they were standing right in front of you? 

Finn piped up, “If you’re ever in Gryffindor, look us up. We’d love to see you.”

“Same for when you come to New York for games.” Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Here,” Finn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? We can send you our team schedule when we get it.”

Finn, you’re a genius.

“That would be great! I, uh, I really liked having y’all on the show. It’d be nice to see each other again.” His cheeks were red again, and Logan had to bite back a whine. He wanted to kiss those red spots so badly.

But this definitely wasn’t the time. There were people everywhere, two of them were probably leaving in the morning, and they didn’t know when they’d see him again. Or if he even liked them back.

Fuck.

Both Logan and Finn had forgotten just how awful the guessing game really was.

[reinepadova]

To Be Seen

[←Previous]  | Chapter 5 |  [ Next → ]

Pearls don't lie on the seashore. If you want one, you must dive for one.

...Light. So soft, and sweet. It surrounds me...

...Warmth. Radiant, and gentle. It brushes against my skin...

...Heart. Steady, and loud. It beats beneath my ear...

...Fingers. Unwavering, yet delicate. They caress through my hair...

...Voice...

...What voice?...

...Who?...

「...is closed...port...settled. Go get...」

「Who?」

「...rest...」

「Who are you?」

「...go get some rest.」

Stella reached out, slow and surreal, out to the space, both wide and close. Infinite, yet enclosed. Her thoughts echoed loudly, yet quietly, both near and far.

Where are the shadowed walls? I should not see.

Where is the cold? It should chill my flesh and soul.

Where are the jeers? They should be ringing and malicious.

「Why?」

「...」

「Why do you care?」

「...」

「Please. Who are you?」

「...」

Stella's eyes stuttered open,  gradual and confused, feeling engulfed, but not suffocating; strangely more secure. Her arms tightened instinctly, fingernails digging into strange grooves – did she fall asleep outside? Why is she hugging a tree? Didn't she make it to the village?

She felt disoriented, and not the usual kind – the kind where she would feel even more empty and tired, dependent on the stamina-boosting dishes instead of her own replenished energies. Nor is it the kind that makes her alert and paranoid, heart pounding like a frightened bird. Stupid green slime. Thing. I hope its choking in its dirt, she grumbled mutely, head burrowing more into the fuzzy moss the tree is probably covered in.

Overall, its such an unfamiliar feeling. This state of wakefulness and oblivion. She can't remember the last time she had a quiet morning like this. Or is it afternoon? Mei was pounding on something before I slept. She was giggling too. I'm glad she's smiling again. Her crying makes me uncomfortable. It's like how Selene looked before she let go.

Stella unconsciously frowned, shoulders tensing slightly, before relaxing back on her side when something nuzzled against her hair.

After a few more minutes of blank ruminating, her 'tree' moved slightly, making her blink back her lethargy, groggily raising her head. She winced, reaching up to rub carefully at the deep sleep lines on her cheek. Clearing her vision, she recognized jewel-like eyes staring back at her – a sight she's wondering would become a habit to see. The corner of her lips twitch up, feeling the weight of the guardian curl around her in a comfy cocoon, and realizing its tail served as her cushy, albeit ticklish pillow. She was about to say her thanks before she stopped, raising a brow instead. Why does it look so... grim?

She tilted her head, staring at somber eyes that studied her for a good long moment, not unlike the solemn paintings of her ancestors in her clan's compound, judging and eternal, captured in paints that lasted until her time –

Shaking her memories away, Stella began to wonder anew how old Mr. Guardian really is, how many people and places its seen, how many it helped or come across. Her thoughts cut off when it suddenly shook its own head, tapping at her nose with one of its whiskers, and teased her face with a small puff of breath. She blew back with her own at its snout, giggling when it tried to smother her with its large mane, pushing her head back in a gentle headbutt.

“Alright, okay. I'm awake, I'm awake,” Stella grumbled, scratching on the bridge of its nose with careful fingers. “You're more cuddly than I thought a serpent should be.”

It reared back its head, snorting, as if indignant, but with eyes still glittering with play. Stella rolled her eyes, sitting up straight while taming down her bed hair. Her gaze fell lazily on the creature, noting absently its suddenly stiff form, a strange new glint in its eyes. Was it's pupils always that big? I could have sworn it was like little diamonds last night. Huh. Must be a predator thing. “I don't know what you are, honestly. That's how I always thought of you before.” She covered her yawn with a dainty hand, a habit from years of etiquette training coming into play despite her non-human bedmate. “I'll ask Mei later. She looked like she knew what you are,” she appeased, dryly smiling at its suddenly thoughtful demeanor.

After a long pause where she was tempted to lie down again, it snorted in agreement, uncurling completely from her before shrinking down his size. It gently spiraled up, drifting in a large circle around the room, before nodding its head to the changing screens. Stella's eyebrow twitched, mumbling about 'pushy, dramatic lizards' before doing as directed, keeping in mind what mischief Mei had been doing while she was down for the count all morning.

I hope its nothing expensive.

Checking to see the bed made, her pack readied, and patting at her last outfit for this trip, Stella walked out, stretching out the kinks to her shoulder when she immediately swerved her wide gaze to the small plot of land that was formerly the receiving area of the hut.

“Lalaaa~ Lookie! Mei mixed the things, like you said! Can we put the Lilies in now?”

Stella stared at the debris covered, char-filled, sandy mess that is formerly a floor, a blank smile frozen on her face. “That's. Great. Mei. How. Did you manage to get...all of this?” she asked faintly, doing a vague, circular gesture of her wrist.

“Oh! The village uncles and aunt helped Mei! Uhm, one uncle has a number in his name. The other uncle says his name is a cold blade. It's strange. But they helped Mei with the soft dirt and the soft rocks. Another uncle said Mei could have his extra wood. Then the aunt that cooks helped Mei cook the wood and rice huskies. She had plenty! She told Mei to not eat the rice huskies, or the wood though, even though she makes yummy dishes,” Mei babbled brightly, her whole body vibrating with energy.

“...ah. Then... they helped you bring it here?” Stella kneeled gingerly before the small mount, not knowing where she should look at first. She couldn't check the sand if its the proper consistency because its mixed in too much with the clay. She's not sure if the clay was pliable enough for the Lilies' roots. The husks were supposed to be smoked, but she can see some badly burnt ones. And the wood... well, she'll have to cut them down to a better size.

“Mhmm~ They super nice. The auntie that cooks even gave Mei a dish so Mei could give it to her Lala!”

Stella smiled gratefully, reaching out a hand to rub Mei's head affectionately. “Thanks, Mei. But give me an hour. I'll be able to sort the materials by then.”

Mei scrunched her brows adorably, pouting. “But Lala should eat first?”

“I know, Mei. But this isn't your house. Granny Ruoxin will come in anytime. She might trip and fall. You know Gran-gran was prone to that too with her poor vision.”

“Oh.” Mei looked down, thoroughly conflicted, playing with her hands as she tried to work through her little head the dilemma of feeding her special person as soon as possible, but also wanting to work on the Lilies as soon as possible.

On the other hand, Stella's mind whirled with thoughts of how to resolve this without making Mei cry, a vibrating energy surrounded them, shaking the two out of their heads before grasping each others hands in instinct.

A large, condensed piece of clay floated, expanding and contracting, with tiny particles of sand dropping immediately from it, while the rice husks flew upwards and away. Stella quickly ducked to cover Mei's eyes, tucking her little head under her chin, face turned away until the golden, mini vortex settled and cleared. Warily opening her eyes, Stella looked around, and gasped.

A pile of softened clay shaped like a cube sat near the wall, while a neat heap of sand was placed next to it in an elegant, gilded, brown pot Stella has never seen before. The rice husks though were still in a pile in front of her, as well as the wood, but its more manageable to sort through now with broom.

Mei squealed excitedly, hopping in place, turning awestruck eyes at the forgotten guardian floating behind them. Remnants of glowing particles circled the creature in slow curves. “Thank you, thank you, Bìxià! Lala can eat now.” Mei stated, more than asked, smile turning smug. Stella retaliated by tickling her ward's sides, making her squeal and laugh, before giving the lady a heatfelt neck hug with her tiny arms.

Stella's smirk turned affectionate, giving the little girl a squeeze in return. “Looks like Mr. Guardian is starting to spoil you. Okay. Give me ten minutes to prepare everything. Divide the food  for me, please?”

Mei giggled, surreptiously glancing at the creature who's now inquisitively looking over the planks of wood, before holding up three fingers at Stella's eye level. They shared a secret smile before Stella winked in agreement. The little girl pattered off before Stella walked over to the creature's curled form, with arms akimbo.

“So! You control anything related to the earth, do you?” Mr. Guardian glanced at her in amusement before nodding. “Well aren't you smug? But, I guess its more useful than what I can do,” Stella whispered lowly as she grabbed a broom to sweep the rice husks. But at the vigorous shake of the creature's muzzle, she realized Mr. Guardian understood exactly what she meant.

-{-}-

“You heard me sing last night,” the lady stated, a sad glimmer shining suddenly in her eyes. “That's how you found me.” Gazing at her quietly, Morax waited. He neither denied nor agreed, intuitively giving her space to think. She finally sighed, her words spilling like lava upon the surface of the earth – slow, with painful fire. “Singing isn't something I do for myself, or even for a living. It's...what I have to do, especially when forced.” She gulped, seemingly forcing her next words out before she runs out of air. “I am... not quite normal. For a human. But I mean no harm to anyone, I promise. Only to myself, when I sing. I – ” She cut herself off, turning away, becoming absentminded as she swept. Morax let her be, busying himself with slicing the planks with his claws, cutting them to the size of a Ley Line Sprout – the appropriate length he thinks she might need for the Lilies.

He is saddened at her distress, after comforting her in her sleep, having to slice through the dark shadows that caged her shining, pure soul – a sight he thought he would never see again. Her answers explained one question, but added upon hundreds – his intrigue for her may yet be extinguished.

Rising after finishing his work, he was surprised she stopped him from heading towards her quarters to conceal his presence, and directed him to the dining table instead. He could only stare as she smiled bashfully, yet charmingly, with the afternoon light complimenting her healthier complexion.

Surely a song of pure joy from her will welcome more praises.

He could only blink, taken aback by the direction of his thoughts, but not shameful of them either.

Sliding the etched ruminations at the back of his mind for now, he touched down gently on a vacant chair, adjusting his size so he fit better, keeping his head at the height of the table, but keeping his arms off of it.

She has shown great consideration for myself even without the girl present. It's best I also mind my manners as a good example.

When said little girl pushed a familiar plate made out of crispy mushrooms and lotus head, with a mouthwatering seasoning of Jueyun chili and plated on shiny green cabbages, he tilted his head and looked on at the delightful surprise, wondering why he was given a second offering in less than a week. Is there something they need more from me?

The lady then startled him from his focus with a short laugh, a wider smile gracing her beautiful face as she patiently explained. “Eat up. The spice on them isn't bad. It's pretty good overall. I will have to thank Ms. Bai before we set out back to the Harbor,” she mused out loud, before catching on, no doubt, to his still befuddled form. Her demeanor seem to soften, like Ice Flowers turned Mist when exposed to a flame, a stroke of understanding painted softly on the curve of her lips. “You're hungry too, right? I know you're used to taking care of others, like how you take care of me – don't think I didn't notice! But, you're also worth taking care of. Rest. You deserve it too,” she stated, as if its a proven fact in the world, before she faced little Mei, inquiring about his form and regarding something else he could no longer hear. His thoughts had turned blank, questions and suspicions fell away, like the fan leaves of the ginkgo trees surrounding his land, from the peak of his mountain forests, to the plains down below.

As Morax took careful bites of the meal, his meal, bearing in mind the placement of his fangs, the relaxed banter of the lady and the child as they discussed their plans held his entire attention, his own musings a mystery to them.

For now.

-{-}-

“Zhongli-xiānsheng! Welcome back, sir,” Ferrylady exclaimed in a breathy gasp, gloved hands almost dropping the ashy incense burner she was supposed to clean before its next use. She hastily set it on a nearby end table, bowing formally to the well-dressed gentleman with his back to her, nevermind the ashes now covering the bottom half of her uniform. When she didn't hear a reply, she took a confused peek. Strange. He never fails to greet back, no matter how late into the night.

What is he holding? Are those the customer logs? Oh no, have I forgotten to write something down again?

“Hm? Ah, thank you. It is good to be back,” the consultant finally said, acknowledging Ferrylady with a nod after he neatly placed down the book on the reception desk, and turned to smile at her warmly. Ferrylady had to smother a cough, both from the blessed sight as well as from the dust. But maybe more so from the former, than the latter, she internally sighed.

“Have you had a good trip, sir?” she inquired quietly, busying herself with the cleanup at the designated corner before she gets caught staring too long. Again.

“Mm. I supposed it is. Ha! And what a surprising gift it is indeed.” Ferrylady had to stop herself from snapping her head back to him, giving away her surprise at his unusually good mood.

Despite his youthful appearance, Zhongli-xiānsheng always exuded a serious demeanor. Aside from playing as the good host – to establish good relations – and a generous customer – within reason –  the normal face of the most knowledgeable consultant employed by the funeral parlor is earnest formality wrapped in respectful cordiality. The kind of bearing all undertakers strive for, as their hall is now well-known far and wide because of his measured suggestions for each type of rite, great and small.

That's not to say Ferrylady was content their consultant is perpetually unsmiling. But when he does...

She held her cleaning brush a little firmer, imagining the radiant glow of the consultant's handsome visage. Her heart might not be able to take it if she has to see it in person. There are just things that have their time and place.

The trip did do him better than expected. I must apologize to the Director as soon as she's back. She is wiser than her years would allude to. I still have much to learn.

She was surprised again when the dapper gentleman spoke next. “Ferrylady, can you tell me more about the current wake you are catering to. This is the third day, is it not?” Ferrylady heard the shuffled pages of the logs again, making her pause in her work.

“That is correct, sir. An old lady, recently passed. Quietly, in her sleep. She is survived by a granddaughter named Meilin,” Ferrylady explained concisely as she silently tidied up, looking up to give the consultant her undivided, yet confused, attention.

Very strange. He wasn't as interested in any of the other ordinary ceremonies before.

“Only one relative?” Zhongli-xiānsheng posed thoughtfully in his usual stance, giving the Ferrylady more questions than answers in her head. Maybe his inquiries have a deeper meaning. Could he be already aware about the Fatui? As expected of our most knowledgeable lecturer. She stood straighter and answered more readily.

“Yes. She is only a little girl though. She does have a guardian with her but they seem unrelated. They don't look alike at all. I can't tell where the lady is from. Her clothes don't look Sumerian or Inazuman, or even those of Liyue fashion, whether traditional or in vogue. But they reflect aspects of the mentioned nations regardless. It's actually an attractive combination, with the wearer herself being a beauty.” When the Ferrylady noticed the unreadable gleam in the consultant's gaze, as well as a a twitch in the corner of his lips, she blushed daintily, realizing she thought out loud.

“Apologies, sir. I digressed. To conclude, they paid generously for the full seven days. As such, the director said to respond accordingly.”

“Generously? Is the memorial plaque included in this?” he casually inquired, turning to gaze out the window, chin still placed lightly on his fingers.

Is the lady guardian a suspected Fatui member, I wonder? Ferrylady shook her head, biting her tongue. No. I shouldn't think this way. She and the girl are still good customers. It is not my place to judge them on this life.

Although, I still do not see why Zhongli-xiānsheng seems interested in this particular ceremony.

“Without, unfortunately. When I mean generous, I meant for everything except that. The guardian said she understood the cost of a certain material little Meilin wanted for the plaque. We assured her it's alright to leave it until later when she has enough Mora saved to commission its carving.”

The consultant hummed and asked no more, staring up at the passing clouds under the moonlit night. The peaceful tick of the clock surrounded the space as the Ferrylady gathered the incense sticks, joss paper, and other materials their clients might prefer during the procession. Moving to let herself out, she understood by now that this type of silence is what the consultant needs for his solitary thinking.

As she neared the door, it's a good thing she has a good hold on her items, especially the burner. She finally gave in to the urge of whirling around to stare at their most revered lecturer with wide eyes as he surprised her yet again with a genial smile and a simple, voiced request.

“May I assist you in the final days of this rite?”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[←Previous]  | Chapter 5 |  [ Next → ]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A/N: I finally have it where I want it to be! A long weekend sure helps a lot. I had to post this before my muse flew away into the void. 

Also, for future reference: don’t flirt during funerals, people. This my disclaimer.

If any one else would like to be tagged in this story if you are having problems seeing it, just let me know~

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Follower Tag:  @meladollsims

[jeanjauthor]

The ‘dreaded swimsuit season’ is coming up, and that means people are going to be obsessing about food and exercise and losing calories.  First of all, I’m not a medical professional nor a nutritionist nor a physical therapist etc, so definitely consult with the appropriate personnel...but I cannot stress strongly enough, you must consult with non-fatphobic medical personnel.

Fatphobia kills people of all bodyweights, and this blog does not support fatphobia, especially medical fatphobia.

Now, with that said...if you want to be healthy, there are plenty of non-fatphobic things you can do about it.  And the biggest things you need to know about how to go about it are: understanding your metabolism, understanding how muscles can affect your metabolism, and understanding how diet (foods, not fatphobia industry) can affect your metabolism.

Given all the fat-shaming bullshit thrown about in the so-called “Health Industry,” it sounds counterintuitive, but you actually need to eat more in order to lose weight.  You need to teach your body that it’s not in starvation mode anymore, that it has plenty of calories and nutrients...and just start moving more.  Not necessarily exercising more, but moving more.

2,000-2,500 calories a day is the range for a “normal” body-weight-and-size person.  However, the more exercise you do, the more muscles you have, or simply the bigger a person you are (the more cells you have), the more calories you need.  Unless you’re seriously short & skinny, a 1,500 calorie meal is a starvation meal, and that will put your body into “OMFG SAVE ALL THE CALORIES AS FAT!!” mode.

Literally, a toddler’s caloric needs are 1,100, and they range from 20-35 pounds.  You’re several times that much.  This doesn’t mean that if you weigh 175 pounds that  you need to eat at least 5 times as many calories, however!  In truth, you only need about double that, because a toddler’s metabolism is geared toward growing, whereas an adult’s metabolism is geared toward maintaining.

The best way to understand this is to realize your metabolism can be divided into 4 categories.

Your Resting Metabolic Rate is simply the amount of calories needed to keep you breathing, your blood pumping, your organs functioning.  That’s 60%-75% of your caloric intake. You have your Thermic Effect of Food, which is another 10%, literally the energy it takes to chew and swallow and digest food & drinks, and then to excrete the leftover bathroom waste. The remaining two types of calorie burning are Non-Exercise Activity Thermogensis, and Activity Thermogenesis.  Of those lattermost two, your body actually burns more of the Non-Exercise calories than the Active Exercise calories...and it is designed to burn more when simply moving.

Literally, just moving a bit more than you usually do in a typical day will burn calories effectively.  Move around the house on every commercial break, stand up and sit down more often, change your position more frequently, raise and lower your arms, gently swing or kick your legs...just move more.  When they say 30 minutes of (gentle) exercise a day, this is exactly what they are talking about.  You don’t need weights, you don’t need machinery, you don’t need a gym membership.  Just move.  It’ll be a gradual process, but so long as you’re eating foods with plenty of fiber as well as other food types, you’ll feel full and won’t feel starved.

Now, if you want to burn calories even faster through vigorous exercise, you can do that, too...but again you need to use your metabolism.  Make sure you’re not starving, because your body will go into a panic attack thinking you’re not only starving but are being chased by bears and will need plenty of fat to survive while you’re unable to gather food, etc because zomg you’re being chased by bears!!1!  (Truly, the metabolism is a primitive/primal minded thing based upon hundreds of thousands of years of hunter-gatherer lifestyles, and does not comprehend modern life at all.)

And then, what do you do to burn more calories?  You build muscles.  Muscles burn a lot of calories.  Not just through using said muscles in excercise, but muscles will burn through calories even while simply resting.  The more muscles you have, the more calories your body will burn.

How do you build muscles?  Well, there are two types of muscles, which while it sounds cannibalistic, we’ll call white meat and dark meat, because it’s the easiest mnemonic to remember.  White meat (think breast meat on a chicken) is designed for strong but brief actions...and men have more white meat muscles than females, though obviously they have both kinds.  That brief sprint towards a prey animal, the thrust of a spear into its body, aaaand done.

Dark meat muscles are meant for lower-strength repetitive actions.  Walking around reaching up or stooping down or digging while gathering plants, with no need to rush and plenty of opportunities to rest.  Chasing after young children.  Weaving baskets, scraping and tanning hides into furs and leathers, cooking...these are tasks that require little to moderate amounts of strength, but most important, repeated movements.  Women tend to have more dark meat muscles than men, though obviously they have both kinds.

(The reasons why wild ducks, partridges, grouse, etc, all have dark meat breast muscles is because they use those muscles to fly long distances. Chickens evolved from jungle-floor hunt-and-peck birds that mostly flew only short distances to get away from predators by flying up to the nearest tree branches, so they literally just needed a burst of strong energy over a short period of time, hence white meat muscles.)

Which type is better?  Both, ideally, because they are useful in a variety of different ways.  Which is better for burning calories?  Ideally both, but it doesn’t really matter.  All you need to do is build muscles.

As for how to do that...you know how you feel when you exercise until you are sore?  That’s what you need to do.  This is where weights and machines and treadmills do come in handy, but still aren’t necessary, since you can lift and lower objects around your home, and get exercise bands or surgical tubing for resistance training, and go for longer walks, etc.

The object is to (gently!) push your body to the point where your muscles are sore.  You can do this by lifting weights for a few repetitions near your limit (use a spotter & practice safe lifting skills!!), which is a white meat muscle activity, or you can use lesser weights or resistance machinery (surgical tubing counts), but just do it more, which is dark meat muscle activity.

You can also do the “step down” method of weight training or resistance training, by starting near your limit, going until your muscles burn, then resting a few minutes while gently shaking out, massaging, or relaxing the muscles in question to help move the lactic acid out of your muscle tissues, along with hydrating. Then you “step down” the amount of weight (say by 20%-30%) and doing another set of reps (repetition movements) until again it’s a struggle, then another few minutes of rest, hydration, etc, before stepping down again, doing some reps...and then again when it’s at the lightest you can for as long as you can, then rest that muscle group.

Regardless of which way you weight/resistance train, take a full 48 hours off.  Or as close to 48 as you manage--weight train 3 times a week, and then take up to 72 hours (three days) off so your body can fully recover.  You can still exercise, but do not use weights or resistance machinery/rubber bands, etc.

Let your muscles use that 48 hours to heal, and eat more protein sources to help your body build more muscle strength, along with a variety of nutrients to get the right kinds of micronutrients.  Again, I must emphasize: Do not starve your body.  It will go into fat-storage mode and will only barely repair your muscles, nevermind build them bigger.

The goal is to build more muscle tissue.  if you are hungrier than usual, eat more.  Your body will tell you what it needs if you listen, and there are plenty of charts out there with “if you are craving X,Y, or Z, then try eating healthier foods A,B,C, D, E, or F!” and they’re actually not inaccurate...but it is okay to have the “less healthy” foods in moderation, same as in everything you eat.

But seriously, up your protein intake, which is what your body needs to build bigger muscles.  The average (again, your needs may be more) person needs about 4 ounces (115 grams) of protein per meal, so you can shoot for more than that.  And get your proteins from a variety of sources.  Humans can manufacture a good number of amino acids (the building blocks of proteins), but we cannot synthesize 9 of them, the “9 essential amino acids.”

These 9 essential amino acids are: histidine, isoleucine, leucine, lysine, methionine, phenylalanine, threonine, tryptophan, and valine.   Foods that contain all nine essential acids are called complete proteins. These include eggs, fish, beef, pork, poultry, and whole sources of soy (tofu, edamame, tempeh, and miso).

While plant proteins have lower essential amino acid contents when compared to animal proteins, they will also have different ratios of the various amio acids compared to most animal-based proteins.  This is something that vegetarians and vegans need to keep in mind.

Some plant-based foods can be combined together to complement and/or supplement.  “Rice & beans” is one such combination.  Basically, you combine a grain (in this case rice) with a pulse (legumes, like beans, or peas, etc).  Here in America, in Mexican restaurants, a serving of refried beans and Spanish rice (seasoned with tomatoes & spices) is often automatically included as a side for most dishes.  This provides a great deal of carbohydrates, but it also provides a more or less “complete protein” set of those essential amino acids.

Corn, beans, and squash plants do the same thing, providing a complete protein when combined together, as well as plenty of carbs.  These three plant types are the “Three Sisters” of indigenous North Americans.  They are best when planted together, the corn providing a trellis for the beans to grow upon, the squashes spreading out across the field to smother competing weeds, and together they feed people reasonably well.

However, they are still more carb-heavy than protein-heavy, which means vegetarians need to rely upon other sources such as nuts, plus eggs, dairy, and/or fish (if pisco-lacto-ovarian vegetarians).  Vegans in particular need to be extra careful.  Yes, peanuts have a lot of proteins compared to their carbs, same with almonds, etc, so definitely add nuts to your diets!  But just be aware that you’re going to need to be a lot more conscious of your protein types & sources--and make sure to get a variety of sources--if you’re trying to build muscles while on a vegetarian or especially on a vegan diet.  A purely plant-based diet will not have nearly as balanced a set of amino acids as what animal-inclusive diets can contain.

If you’re lacto-ovarian, this is made easier because milk, cheese, and eggs are wonderful foods with a lot of nutritional value.  If you eat fish as well, even better, full proteins in fish as well as in egg whites, etc...but that brings me to another caveat, because you should probably eat the egg yolks as well as the egg whites.

Do not skip out on fats.  Unless you have a genuine doctor-ordered medical reason, do not cut all fats out of your diet.  Your brain needs fats in order to function.  And just as with amino acids in various protein sources, there are different types of fats as well that our bodies need in different amounts for different reasons.  This isn’t to say you should chow down on the equivalent of a full stick of butter (1/2 cup, 65 grams) with each meal (unless you’re camping outdoors in winter in the far north or a mountain, because then you need fat in your diet for your body to literally burn to help keep you warm).

It’s just that you don’t want to go completely fat free...because if you do, your metabolism will go into panic mode in its primitive/primal-minded way, “ZOMG IT’S LATE WINTER/EARLY SPRING AND NOTHING HAS ANY FATS IN IT WE’RE ALL GONNA STAAAAAARRRVEEE!!” Your metabolism will start turning carbs and even proteins into fats in an effort to ensure your brain (along with other vital organs) will have enough fats to keep functioning.  So go ahead and put some butter on your toast.  Even better, put some nutbutter on your toast, since sunflower butter, peanut butter, almond butter, all those things have proteins and fats as well as carbs.

Also, your body actually does need cholesterol to function, but only in smaller amounts than you’d think.  HOWEVER, if it doesn’t get enough of the right types of cholesterol through diet, your body will make its own cholesterol, and will make more than you need, out of carbohydrates.  (Yeah, this one was a shocker to me when I learned about it, and the answer blew my mind.  Seriously, our body will make up to 10x as much cholesterol as we need if we don’t eat it, so it’s best if we do eat it.)

So how much does an average person need to consume of these critical cholesterols that it absolutely needs?  ...About 1-2 egg yolks a day (or comparable alternative sources; vegans, do some research on alternatives, or just accept that your body may try to overproduce certain cholesterols if it’s feeling nutrition-starved).  Seriously.  Just that much is enough. (Again, your needs may vary based on your body size, metabolic rate, and/or environment.)

So.  Put it all together, and you have:  1. Eat a variety of foods in sufficient quantities and qualities (fats and proteins included) to ensure your body stays healthy; 2. exercise just enough to push your muscles into feeling sore; 3. Rest 48 hours while eating a bit more protein to help your body repair and build bigger muscles; 4. Lather-rinse-repeat... and you’ll eventually get bigger muscles that burn more calories simply by existing, as well as whenever you use them to move just a bit more than you normally would.

Dark meat muscles burn more calories when at rest because they’re designed that way, because they’re small effort but frequent use with multiple short rests, lots of blood flowing through them, and thus are more metabolically “charged” than white meat muscles.  However, white meat muscles tend to be the largest muscles, and thus while not designed to burn calories as efficiently while at rest compared to dark meat muscles...they actually end up burning about the same through sheer volume.

Work on improving your muscles, move a bit more every day, eat more conscientously but not through the heavily warped fearmongering lens of the Diet Industry’s blather and/or tactics, and you will be healthy enough to go to the beach and enjoy it.  Not because you’ll have lost weight, but because you will be healthier.  (Fun fact: muscles are denser and heavier than fat, so you could literally lose inches while gaining pounds from your body burning the fat with its now increased muscle mass.)

And yes, you can weigh 260 pounds and still be healthier than someone who weighs 160.

In other words, if you have a body, and you go to the beach with it, you now have a beach body.

You’ll just be less likely to get out of breath while swimming or building sand castles or playing volleyball or whatever if you’ve upped your exercise levels between now and then.

Also:  CONTINUE TO WEAR A MASK IN PUBLIC.

Get one that matches your swimwear, or makes you feel silly & fun.  Even if everyone started wearing their masks (not going to happen, but one can dream), it will to take us all of 2021 to quell the pandemic...and because people won’t be wearing their masks, keep wearing that mask.  Yes, even if you have had all your shots.  Because people aren’t wearing masks, the virus is able to spread, and when it spreads, there’s always a chance it will mutate, and cause new strains of infections...which it already has.  So wear your damn mask.

[foodbytesback]

A Millenial's Guide to Dinner Parties

Ok, sorry.  I didn’t have time to write anything real  for this week, because I was too busy planning a dinner party.  But uhhh that counts as a food-related topic, so I’m just gonna write about that. 

You may be asking “just how much “planning” do you need?” The answer? Much.  

I feel like I never understood how “we’ve been planning this dinner for months!” made any sense as a sitcom throwaway line, until I tried to plan a dinner between myself and 3 other adults- 1 who just started a second job, 1 who just started grad school, and 1 who lives out of town.  But people who love to say “fail to plan, plan to fail” rarely seem to specify what kind of planning that entails, so let me break down my approach (or, in some cases, things I learned in light of my approach) so that you too can funnel your anxiety into worrying about all the right things.

Consider your living space

Since I knew 2 of those 3 really like Indian food, I decided I’d base the menu around that.  Incidentally, this ended up having one major benefit that I would recommend keeping in mind: if you, like me, don’t have a proper dining room table, don’t serve anything that would require a fork and knife.  If you’re gonna be eating on the couch (Or, if you have a studio that doesn’t have room for a couch, bed? Floor? Getting imaginative about how to host people in a studio is its own challenge), you should consider serving something that can easily be eaten one-handed while balancing the plate in your lap.  Besides curries, I would also recommend tacos (or any kind of finger-food), stir-frys or any sort of braise/stew, although a soup that’s too thin is just asking to be spilled.

Cook as much as you can ahead of time

The day of the event, you’re really gonna want to make sure all your mise en place is… uh, en place.  It’s a given that dishes that are a multi-day process (like the bread dough for the naan) are going to be done well beforehand, but you really will be better off taking care of as much of the things that could be dismissed as doable the day of as you can the night before (or the day before that, depending on your schedule, if your produce is fresh it will survive a couple of days chopped).  For me, this meant dividing up the bread dough into smaller, individual portions, pre-cutting anything that needed to be cut (which luckily ended up being just onions, garlic, one serrano pepper, paneer, and chicken), marinating the chicken, and making the sauce for the chicken tikka masala.

You may have noticed that one of those containers used to be soup.  Or that the pepper’s in a ziplock bag.  Yes. Listen: I don’t work for Food Network, I don’t have hundreds of those little bowls lying around.  I didn’t even have lids for most of those deli containers.  I can only steal so much from work before it becomes noticeable.  If you’re only making one thing, feel free to combine ingredients that get added in at the same time in the recipe together in one container.  I ended up keeping most of mine separated out like this because I needed garlic for pretty much everything, so it made sense to just have one big thing of garlic, etc.  Honestly, you should just have one big thing of garlic on hand at all times, dinner party or not. 

Even with all that prep, it still took me close to 2 hours to cook the chicken, add it to the sauce that I had dumped into a crock pot for reheating, put the rice on, make the 2 paneer dishes (for clarity: saag paneer and a weird dish one of my friends mentioned liking that doesn't’ seem to have any actual basis in Indian cuisine that’s just paneer sauteed with onions and cumin seeds) and bake off several naan.  Which leads me to my next point...

Provide entertainment that doesn’t involve you

Yes, the whole point is that you want to spend time with your friends. But, unless you’re making something like dumplings, where you can easily enlist your friends to help you, you’re gonna be alone in the kitchen while your friends hang out without you.  In this case, they played WarioWare on my Switch and played/made fun of this weird foodie trivia game that I had never even bothered to unwrap from its protective plastic that focussed way too much on Julia Child-era cooking shows, wine varietals, and antiquated edicate, all while I listened from the kitchen.  Because my apartment is pretty small, “from the kitchen” means about 5 feet away, so it’s not like I was really feeling that left out.  I was able to break away from cooking every-other question or so to shoot someone a judgemental glare any time they couldn’t get an answer that I assumed was somewhat-common knowledge right. I should also mention that if you know it’s gonna take a while to cook everything, put out some sort of snack, too.  I hadn’t thought about this, and ended up throwing a box of pumpkin spice Twinkies at them.  

I guess this can be avoided by just having them come when the food is ready. I guess. 

Clean as you go

This is pretty much true for any time you cook something, but seriously, the dishes really start to pile up when you’re cooking larger quantities.  This goes double for things like tasting spoons, which I’m normally fine with reusing when I’m cooking for myself, but I will NOT subject my guests to double-dipping.   And take my word for it, you’re gonna want to go into the actual serving of dinner with an empty sink, because after everyone’s left you’ll turn around and be caught completely off-guard by how many dishes have to be done.  

Have fun and be yourself

No, really.  If your friends are anything like my friends, they’ll just be happy to see that one friend from out of town again or at the very least get a free meal.   Like, despite (or because of?) my obsessive planning, when the time came to actually start cooking I felt no pressure to have to go at my usual breakneck line cook pace, because my friends were there to have a fun little evening, and that’s exactly what I gave them.

[imhereforbvcky]

Watch Me Run - Part 14

Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage  -  Part 15

Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader) Chapter: Bucky makes you breakfast and you have a new dream. Meanwhile, Natasha gets some answers.

Word Count: 3557

A/N: I make up so much shit related to infinity stones in this chapter. I have no excuse other than that idga(nymore)f. The rest is just mushy mush mush! Enjoy!

The last warm rays stretched long golden fingers through the trees. A breathless chill seeped into the air on the claws of shadow that crawled over the cabin earlier and earlier with each passing day. Even the sun hid its face from winter’s harsh touch in this barren place.

Glimmering ice lingered in every shadow: a frosty warning of the coming storm. Even sheltered inside, your nose had grown cold to the touch on that first morning when you woke to the unmistakable crunch of fresh snow.

You’d dreamed of that sound your whole life, if such horrors could be considered dreams. That grinding, biting, crunch of snow and ice under heavy boots had been knit into your bones, burned in your blood. It was the sound of a world too cold and too sharp to yield to the will of any man in it.

As a child it had been the sound of rescue, of paramedics come to haul your small shivering body from the wreckage of your mother’s car. Lately, the sound of otherworldly golden boots wading through snow and blood hunted you across dream and daylight alike.

Hiding from the unwelcome sound, your eyes pinched tighter shut, and you burrowed deeper beneath the heavy Italian wool blanket. Waiting. It smelled of the raw cedar linen chest. Its rough weave scratched against your cheek as you waited for the sound of relief.

In the long hours here in this small quiet cabin, in this wide open and silent wood, every noise – even Bucky’s hushed ones – had become intimately comforting. First, the deadbolt gliding into place with a swish-thunk. Then, the swift zip of his jacket, and finally the heavy one-two of his boots stomping off the mud, or today… the snow.

You’d learned long ago that while sleep was a necessity, it was not the relief for Bucky, that it was for you. True rest came with great difficulty, and when it did finally claim him, he often woke early, shoving away that unknowable darkness in favor of controllable, definable protocol.

Today had been no different. Dry logs clattered in the fire, crumbling their bark on the stone floor of the hearth. The stiff crumple of newspapers came next, then the sharp fwick of a match. While you’d been hiding from the cold and the steady march of time, he’d already checked his snares and trips, scouted the area for unexpected tracks, and returned with a sled full of bright smelling pine for the fire.

You shuffled to the doorway, dragging the scratchy wool blanket over your shoulders and paused at the entry. Sleep might not bear rest for Bucky, but just now, he looked about as peaceful as you’d seen him. Confident in his sweep, warming by the fire he’d just built, muscles a little sore from the work and a little stiff from the chill in the air, he sat on his feet, kneeling before the bright flames.

Relaxed by his ease, by the very nature of his constancy, you watched for a moment. The warm glow brightened the dark brown of his hair, softened the steel blue of his eyes until he let them fall closed and his head fall back on his shoulders with a sigh. He rarely looked so at ease.

The smile crept across your face unbidden. A slow curl of your lips accompanied a contented tilt of your head. When had running for your life become so pleasant?

“Sleeping Beauty wakes,” he teased, smiling to himself, but otherwise unmoving as he soaked up the fire’s warmth.

“Does that make you my fairy godmother?” you tossed back as you stepped into the room, laughing away the heat rising in your cheeks. “You know, swooping me off to the forest to protect me.”

He laughed, turning to watch you arrange the blanket as you sat beside him in front of the fire. “Not how I’m usually cast, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Who would you rather be?”

Again, he laughed, this time shaking his head, with his eyes firmly on his feet.

“Hey, I’ve got something for you,” he changed the subject. Or tried.

“Fauna, did you make me a cake?! It’s not even my birthday!”

“What?” he frowned, clearly the cabin hadn’t been stocked with Disney movies. “No. Not a cake.”

Natasha stood on the sidewalk looking up at the lavish building with a scoff on her lips. Stately carved stone pillars stood in perfect lines, dividing the deep red brick. Row after row of delicately wrought iron balconets guarded lavishly shrouded windows. At the center of the steeply pitched copper roof, green with age and weather, stood the unmistakable round window. It was intricately latticed and appeared as an exact twin to the one she’d just left behind in Nepal.

She checked the paper in her hands one last time, the one the Sorcerer Supreme had given her.

“Flew half way across the world and I could’ve just taken a cab down 6th,” she grumbled, shoving the paper in her pocket before bounding up the stairs.

She froze when she raised a softly closed fist to knock and the cheery fall morning around her melted into a dim, musky hall filled with ancient looking relics, knick-knacks, books and museum-quality furniture. Immediately on edge, she tried to keep her stomach from flipping again.

“You don’t have the stone.” The voice echoed off the richly stained wood cases.

“Seemed unwise until we know why everyone wants it,” she answered coolly, eyeing the man who seemed to float down the wide staircase. He reminded her vaguely of Tony. Dark hair tinged with grey, carefully kept facial hair, a sharp intelligent eye, and an even sharper tongue. “Why you want it.”

“I need to see to the stone-keeper.”

“And I need answers.”

“There’s no time for mincing words, Ms. Romanoff,” he complained, sweeping past her and pointing a sharply angled hand at the door. “You brought a homicidal Asguardian fugitive to my doorstep  who is hunting infinity stones. That stone protects your reality. My job is to protect this realm, and that means the stone. It’s always been safest with The Seers, but if the chain has been broken…”

“The Seers?” Natasha interrupted. “Who are they? What makes them equipped to protect it over your order? Over us?”

Strange sighed. Irritation sagged in the frown of his lips and the roll of his eyes as he reached for a heavy tome. It flew to his waiting hand from a shelf across the room and when he dropped it on the table, thundered open to a page depicting a family tree in minute detail.

Natasha recognized it immediately as a perfect copy of the one she’d seen that day you first crashed into their lives with a story that seemed too crazy to be true. A story of visions and time-bending and stones. And yet, here she stood in the sanctum of a practitioner of the mystic arts, staring at the exact same family tree that had been scribbled into the back of the family album your grandfather had mailed to you. The one that had held the time stone itself.

“They’re a family,” he explained, pointing to the page. He studied Natasha as she worked to school her shock. “An ancient line of sorcerers. Gifted in our arts, they go as far back as we have written record.” He pointed to a name high on the list. “Suresh The Philosopher: authored many of our foundational texts and spells.” He indicated another name. “Mina The Guardian: appointed the first masters of the mystic arts to maintain the sanctums. Nobis The Wise created the Order of Seers. And so on and so on for generations. Decades.”

“She knows none of this,” Natasha breathed, drawing light fingers over the names on the page and recalling that day in Tony’s office. “She had no idea what that album meant. What she could be.”

“Who she is.” Strange corrected. “She must be told. I can’t allow the stone to remain unprotected. I can help, but you have to take me to the stone-keeper. Now. Loki is not the only one in the universe who seeks that power.”

Natasha sighed, finally in concession. “That’s impossible. I don’t know where she is.” And it was true. She had nothing. No stone, no stone-keeper. Just a word with a man who had a phone number.

“Nothing’s impossible.”

His word was curt and final. Before Natasha’s frown could dawn into an argument, he’d spun a gleaming orange rope, sparking and snapping as it opened a hole in the reality of space and they stepped into a conference room in Stark Tower.

“You might want to lock down the next room.” He calmly suggested before nodding through the glass to an empty office.

The sparking gold ring had just begun to fade as Loki stumbled into the vacant office as if out of thin air.

“Maybe you should let me do the cooking,” you grinned, sliding your elbows over the counter.

Bucky spared a quick glance for you from the overflowing pan. Over his shoulder, you could just see the corner of his mouth quirked up and that glint in his eye. It was like a lightning strike, sending a fresh heat zipping through your entire nervous system.

“You haven’t even tried it yet,” he argued.

“What is… it exactly?”

His smirk only grew as he reached for two plates.

“Garbage eggs,” he said with absolutely no further explanation.

Your excitement turned to a scowl while he scooped the concoction onto two plates and slid one to you.

Bucky had a very different definition of cooking than yours. You had argued about it once, early on. Well, argue isn’t the right word. It was playful prodding really and the conversation ended in a shrug when he offered one of those grins. The kind that invariably forced all the sensible words out of your head.

He was far more likely to heat up a can of beans over the stove – still in the can. Or take a fork straight into a rehydrated sleeve of rice and beef goo, made for camping and efficiency. It wasn’t that he didn’t like good cooking, only that he didn’t require it. Not on mission, anyway. He’d been trained by the US Military and then by HYDRA into the perfect soldier. Anything that tasted good was simply a waste of precious energy.

You, on the other hand, were certain your insides had turned to molten imitation cheese weeks ago from all the frozen or rehydrated food.

“You said you were sick of junk food,” he shrugged, strangely unwilling to meet your eye.

“So you made garbage instead?” you teased.

“Yup.” He shoveled a massive bite into into his mouth and grinned. Still, though he smiled, he wouldn’t look up. Instead he stirred the plate around. “It’s eggs and potatoes and whatever is almost ready for the garbage.”

“An empty-the-cupboard breakfast,” you surmised.

“Mhmm. Try it,” he stabbed a piece of potato.

You eyed him warily as you scooped up a bite. As you did,  he finally lifted his eyes. Not his head, though. He looked like a puppy waiting to be kicked. It wasn’t a five-star meal, but you’d take anything over a microwaved gas station breakfast sandwich. This, at least, was fresh-cooked and warm, and damn it all if it wasn’t alright.

“Not bad?” This time, he grinned a little. His brows lifted slightly, waiting and anxious.

It was then you realized he’d done this for you. When you’d complained about all the food-in-a-bag, when he’d denied you the chance at the hospital café and you’d griped, he’d heard. Not only had he heard you, here he sat offering what you asked for, or as best as he could manage given the circumstances.

“’S good,” you beamed up at him, warmed head to toe by this one small, intimate act. “Nice and salty.”

He nodded, pleased and relieved. He glanced back at the pan, still warm on the stove. “You um,” he stumbled, “You were tired of the instant meals, so.”

Your face burned at the memory of complaining about the food at the hospital, at the recollection of Bucky’s hand closed around yours. How comfortable, how easy it had been done, and how something from that instant had shifted. Something you couldn’t – wouldn’t – name. If you gave it a name it had a shape and that shape might not fit in this tiny cabin, on this dangerous assignment. Or worse, it might not fit in the shapeless world after the danger passed, when the boundaries were lifted.

“You know what this needs?” you asked. Taking another grateful bite and smiling wide, you swallowed the garbage eggs with the anxiety. “Hot sauce!”

You could see the wheels turning, as he eyed you, measuring your suggestion.

“It does,” he finally agreed, turning back to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, knowing full well there was no hot sauce to be found in the efficient little cabin. Only dehydrated chicken and rice, canned beans and more potatoes.

Without a word, he reached deep into a cupboard and set a can on the counter with a loud clank. He peeled back the lid on a stew of hot chilies.

Your eyes lit up before you dove into the can with a spoon, drizzling the sauce all over your eggs and potatoes. Bucky did the same. When you both reached into the can simultaneously, you jumped back, a laugh on your lips at your own eagerness.

Bucky looked at you with an expression warm and gentle, like leaves falling quietly in golden afternoon sun. It quickly grew into a laugh of his own.

“You’ve uh,” he chuckled. “You’ve got something…” he motioned to your cheek. The brick red sauce had flung from your spoon when you’d withdrawn so quickly and now splattered your face.

Heat rose in your face again; you tried to laugh it off. You swiped at your cheek with the heel of your hand.

“Did I get it?”

Another chuckle as he shook his head. His lips rolled between his teeth for a fraction of a second.

“Now?”

“Here.” He reached a hand across the counter between you. Without even thinking, you leaned forward, pushing up on your toes to close the distance.

It wasn’t until his thumb swept high over your cheek that your heart began to race. As if, with that touch, that brush of skin, the unspoken shift had been not named, but marked. Without meaning to, he’d brought the feeling to life, shoved it into that golden light.

He’d swept the sauce away but lingered close, fingers hovering just barely over the span of your cheek. Frozen, mesmerized by this newness, you waited, drawn tight as a bow. He never broke eye contact, never pulled away. So finally, you leaned into his hand, just a small tilt of your head.

In an instant you were spinning. The copper relic at your neck burst into green radiance. A sharp intake of breath served as the only notice something was not right.

Bucky pulled away and watched as you stumbled back, completely lost to the power of the stone.

Somewhere in the blend of present and future before your eyes, you knew what you must look like. You knew your eyes had glazed over, had become distant and unseeing Your face had fallen slack with the force of the change, fingers dancing over the cool metal of the necklace. You mirrored your grandfather.

Without his control, however. The dreams took hold when they would, and you fell, powerless to their urging.

In the dream Bucky’s hand still lay on your cheek as it had in waking. His touch remained gentle and warm. He smiled at you with an ease you’d never seen before. It settled over you like a glowing fire. Familiarity, comfort, safety.

The coarse scratch of his growing beard made a pleasant swishing sound as it moved over the soft white fabric on his pillow.

“Do you know you smile when you’re dreaming?” he asked, voice rough and quiet. He must have just woken. You loved when his voice sounded this way. It meant he’d slept well, rested, safe and at home beside you.

Your own voice mumbled out an answer, heavy with contentment and sleep. “Only when I dream of you.”  

Your fingers curled around Bucky’s wrist, holding him close while you turned your head slightly to kiss his open palm.

He rolled his eyes, a silent joke, always teasing. But there was a smile there too, the soft content kind that let you know there would be no interruptions today. No missions. No fear. Just this. The cotton sheets ruffled quietly as he shifted closer and pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, then your nose.

“What was I doing?” he asked while the tips of your fingers traced the strong curve of his shoulder. “In the dream.”

“You know how when you’re mad, you clench your jaw?”

“I do not,” he argued.

You laughed and burrowed tightly against his chest, legs tangling as you scooted closer.

“And you sigh.”

He took a breath and paused, holding back the inevitable sigh, before letting out a small chuckle. “Well you got me there.”

“I brought home an elephant, and you were doing the jaw thing,” you traced the line of his jaw. “And then you sighed when I said I wanted to keep it.”

“I’d do a lot more than that if you brought home a 6-ton pet.”

“But I saved it from a circus, so you let me keep it anyway,” you continued.

He hummed, smoothing a hand over your hair and pressing his lips to the top of your head. “That big bleeding heart o’ yours,” he kissed you again. “Always gettin’ us into trouble.”

“No more than your stubborn streak,” you countered, tipping your head to kiss his neck, up, and up to the edge of his chin.

“Who’s stubborn?” He slid strong unrelenting arms around you, pinning your own to your sides. Your entire body locked immobile against his.

“Bucky!” You tried to sound outraged when you were anything but. Your giggles drifted on the breeze beside the gossamer curtains on out the open window. The soft rumble of his happiness tickled and scratched at your ear, it warmed your skin and rippled down to your belly until you stilled again in his arms.

Just as quickly as the dream had fallen upon you, taking hold of all your senses, it lifted. Worried grey eyes roved over you, glancing furtively at the ornament hanging over your chest, its green light dimming slowly.

You sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. That was unusual. Normally when the dreams struck, the force of it overtook you, left you in a heap on the floor. But this time, you hadn’t woken with so much as an ache. Not one bruise.

You noticed Bucky’s hands just then. One curled over your shoulder, the other cradled your head with fingers curling behind your neck. “I’ve got you,” he kept muttering quietly while looking you over again and again, worry pitched in every syllable. He must’ve caught you, guided you to safety, and stayed, watching helplessly as you’d slipped into another time.

“You okay?”

You only nodded, swallowing thickly and dodging his probing gaze.

“What was it?” he pressed. He was anxious and that was unusual. “What did you see?”

“I—Nothing,” you hedged. Your skin had begun to burn at the memory, at the way he was holding you now, so like the dream and yet so unlike. “It was nothing. We’re not in any danger.”

Except you were. You were in very real danger of leaning forward to kiss those almost-familiar lips that had whispered such sweet words in your dream.

“That thing has lit up every time you’ve had one of those dreams,” he urged. His fingers dug into your shoulder. “And every time it does, Loki has been close. Close enough to take it from you. You need to tell me what you saw.”

“It wasn’t Loki,” you managed. “It was you.”

His eyes flashed wide for a moment, before a frown deepened across his dark features. “Me? I did someth--”

“Not like that,” you stumbled. “You wouldn’t have hurt me. It was after, I think. After all of this. I wasn’t worried about Loki, or the stone, or any of this.”

Bucky stared at you, frown as firm as before. He was unsure and critical. Finally, his gaze tore away from you at the sound of a sharp repetitive beep. You watched the color drain from his face before he leapt to his feet, reaching for the pager on the table. The pager he’d bought for Tony Stark to call if anything came up between check-in calls.

He glanced at it, then stared at you for a long moment, trying to work out the puzzle. If you’d withheld anything from him.

Meanwhile, your heart was hammering like ocean waves in your ears. So loud you wondered if he could hear it too. The longer his silence stretched, the more you began to dread what he might say.

“We have to go.”

Part 15 >>

[oneyeartoparty]

Meeting At Long Last - Chapter 4: The First Few Days

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753607/chapters/66923116

The kitchen was quiet as Lily entered. Gone was the scent of cooking food, the shouting chefs, the boiling water and sizzling oil. It was replaced with the smell of soap and sloshing water as mops were pulled and pushed across the floor. The breakfast rush had just ended, and so only a few of the stations were still in use, with the rest closed for cleaning or left unused.

She made her way to a small, unoccupied section of the kitchen; one meant more for the preparation of smaller meals than the grand feast that was regularly made elsewhere in the room. Stopping in front of a well-worn wooden cutting board, she placed down what she had been holding.

Lily inspected the ingredients before her with a careful eye. Since Thatch had kindly offered her access to the ship’s food stores, she was able to take her pick of the available food. The more significant issue she faced was finding what she needed. The food storage area was necessarily large and filled with an abundance of ingredients, from the mundane to the more exotic and strange. It has taken her almost half an hour to locate everything she needed, and she made to sure mentally note where she pulled everything from, for future reference.

Despite the abundance of ingredients, she was held back by her lack of adequate cooking skills. Her childhood cooking experience consisted of sticking some meat over a fire and making rice, so she had been woefully under prepared for surviving long term while sailing the sea. Luckily, she had encountered a few well-meaning sailing merchants who taught her the basics of cooking and food preservation before giving her some small rations and sending her on her way.  

While it was only a few days into her stay on the Moby Dick, she thought it best to get started practicing her cooking while food was plentiful, and she had some spare time. While she doubted anything would happen during her stay, she didn’t want to be caught out if it did, especially if she ended up stranded one of the more mysterious islands in the New World.

It didn’t take long for her mind to stray once she got started cooking. She had practiced many times during quieter periods in her journey, and so muscle memory took hold, allowing her to reflect on the last few days of her stay. 

Things had been calmer than she had expected. Ships sailing these waters expected to be harassed by Marines, pirates or a combination of the two, but the Moby Dick faced no resistance as it cut through the ocean. Lily had sighted a few ships as they traveled, though they were too distant for her to see any identifying features. All of them were sailing away from them like they had hit an invisible barrier and were bounced back.

Then there was the crew. Many had approached her to introduce themselves and see how she was doing. None asked about the mask, and Lily attributed this to Thatch keeping his promise to ensure no one would ask, though, no guarantee could stop the staring. There were fewer stares than she expected. No doubt many of the crew had seen stranger sights and saw her as ordinary in comparison. Of those who did stare, some were more subtle, only choosing to take glances when they thought she wasn’t looking or paying attention. Others openly gawked, or reacted in obvious shock, like one cabin boy who stared at her wide-mouthed when she was walking back to her room one afternoon. The boy’s reaction didn’t surprise her; she had seen many children react the same when they saw her. 

What had been surprising was the attempts of some of the crew to flirt with her. It was odd for someone like Lily, who was so often considered a freak, to be flirted with. The first time it has happened, it was shortly after she had sat with Marco and Ace on the ship’s railing. A woman approached her; she had a slender form with wavy but thin brown hair that traveled down to meet her elbow and eyes that matched the brown of her hair. Despite her slender form, she had apparent muscle, visible through the bulky red reefer coat and blue jean she wore. She made her intention known quickly, but didn’t get very far, nor would any of the others, as Ace would appear to glare at anyone who tried as if a mere attempt at flirting with her caused him to appear to put a stop to it instantly. 

After the fifth flirting attempt, Ace started to spend more time with her, and while he wouldn’t admit it, it was a clear sign the flirting was bringing out his overprotective brother side. Lily didn’t mind; she enjoyed her brother's company, especially after so much time apart. If he had other duties, he would often leave Lily with Thatch. While he had initially been wary of his fellow Commander due to his reputation, he quickly came to trust Thatch with Lily when he saw that he wouldn’t follow in some of his crewmate’s footsteps. 

Overall, the crew of the Moby Dick had been kind to her, and while Lily appreciated their kindness, each new person she met caused her anxiety to spike. She wasn’t used to being approached so freely, and so often by strangers, and while she tried her best to speak with everyone, she would sometimes lockup and find it difficult to respond. 

Thankfully, most of them would notice and take their leave, or Ace, Thatch or Marco would appear and whisk her away to an empty part of the ship and sit with her for a while until she felt better. It was something she deeply appreciated, and she made a note to try to find gifts for them all before she departed the ship.

Today had been a rare day where the three were elsewhere, leaving her to her own devices. She had spent her time sorting her bags, taking stock of what she had saved from her destroyed ship. Sorting through everything, she noticed a cookbook she had salvaged. Flicking through the water-damaged pages, she saw some recipes that caused her empty stomach to rumble. And so, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare them. 

“Interesting dishes you’re making Lily, though they’re a bit basic,” Thatch said from beside her, pulling Lily from her reminiscing.  

“Basic?” she asked, secretly not shocked by his words.

“Yeah, it’ll do for keeping you alive, but that’s it. If your living and fighting in the New World you need more than that. You need to be re-energized and revitalized. Anyone with basic cooking skills can put something together, but only the best chefs can make something that both keeps and makes you feel alive.” 

There was truth in his words that Lily couldn't deny. After all, she had experienced the effects of his cooking since she had come aboard. Every meal gave her more energy than anything else she had tried before, and it made getting through the day much more comfortable.

“I can teach you a few different things if you’d like,” he offered.

“Thank you, Thatch, that would be wonderful,” she happily replied.

Getting a lesson from an expert chef and spending some time with a friend. I think today is shaping into a good day.

Cooking with Thatch was a learning experience. His love of cooking came through with every action he made, and it was apparent he took joy in sharing his craft with others. He took the time to explain every step and went over things she had trouble mastering. Despite her occasional slip-up, it wasn’t long before they finished, successfully making two dishes she had seen in the recipe book.

The food now sat on a divided plate, a serving of spicy beef rice occupying the red side and a summer salad on the white. They both looked scrumptious, better than anything Lily could prepare by herself. Still, while she had help, there was an undeniable touch of her in both dishes, and she felt proud she had a hand in creating them.

“Both look great! Thank you for your assistance in making them, Thatch,” Lily said, delight ringing in her voice.

“It was my pleasure, now which should we tr-“.

“Ahh crap!” a male voice shouted from the other end of the kitchen, interrupting Thatch.

“Is someone in trouble?” Lily asked, tensing up slightly.

“No need to worry. That sadly familiar yell was the new cook screwing up the soup again. I’ll be back in a minute.” He said in a huff, walking toward the direction of the shout.

And so, Lily began to wait. It took mere minutes after Thatch’s departure for an odd impatience to take over her. She wanted to wait as he had asked, but after all the work they had put into making this food, she couldn’t let it go cold before someone could taste test it for her.

“I’ll go and find Ace and see what he thinks,” she said to herself as she grasped the plate and turned toward the exit.

Exiting the kitchen, she began to make her way towards Ace’s cabin, a skip in her step as she looked forward to seeing her brother’s reaction to her new creations.

She didn’t encounter anyone on the walk to the cabin, and soon she found herself standing in front of the door to her brother’s quarters. Not wanting to risk dropping the plate, she used her foot to tap the door lightly.

“Ace? Are you in there?” she half-shouted through the door.

There was no response. Not that she was surprised. Ace could easily be somewhere else on the ship or napping, becoming almost dead to the world as he dreamt what she hoped were pleasant dreams.

Undeterred, she decided to knock one final time before searching elsewhere.

Again, nothing.

Could he be training, maybe? He did say he was meeting with members of his division today, is he doing that now?

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Marco walking toward her. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. Instead, he wore a light grey, long-sleeved sports shirt; the first few buttons left undone to show the top of his tattoo. His pants were made of what Lily thought was cotton that had been dyed black and stopped just below his knees.

He looks like he’s trying to relax today. Maybe this is a rare day off for him?

“Hello, Lily.” Marco greeted.

“Hey, Marco,” she cheerfully replied.

“Looking for somewhere to sit and eat?” he asked, inspecting the plate.

“No, Thatch assisted me in making some food. It's my first attempt making something like this, so I was looking for Ace to taste test it for me.”

“Why didn’t Thatch taste it?”

“There was a soup emergency that he had to go handle. Since he was busy, I decided to go find Ace instead.”

“You won’t have any luck finding Ace. He went racing off on his Striker when he heard one of our ally ships needed help. I tried telling him Izu was already on the way, but he was gone before I could even start speaking.” Marco grumbled.

She sighed “That’s typical Ace. He can be a hot-head sometimes.”

“I don’t hate him for it. It's how he show’s he cares, and I will admit it’s kinda endearing.”

“So, my brother has rubbed off on you? It’s the same with Luffy. Those two always seem to make fast friends no matter where they go,” Lily chucked.

“It wasn’t that smooth a start for Ace here, but it did work out that way, and we’re all glad it did. I think the ship would be empty without him setting things on fire.”

“Changing the subject, since the fire starter isn’t here, would you try one of these for me? The red side is spicier if you’re not a fan of spice.” She asked as she lifted the plate, moving it closer to Marco.

Marco looks between them. “Which is which?” 

“Sorry?” 

“I can’t see colour.” 

It took a moment for her to realise what he had meant. “You haven’t found your soulmate?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet, though I have been looking.” 

His words caused her to panic internally.

I’ve screwed up! How could I be so inconsiderate when he’s been so kind? He’s going to hate me now.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed as I did. It was horrible of me,” Lily muttered, her anxiety serving to dampen her voice, making it come out as a whisper.

“Please Lily, there is no need to apologies for not knowing, especially when its something like this.” 

She was relieved. She would hate to have offended Marco. While they hadn’t spent much time together, she felt that had a bond already, and given how few close bonds she had, she didn’t want to lose it.

“Does it impede you at all?” she asked, allowing her curiosity to take over momentarily.

He shook his head. “Not really. Most things that would be a struggle have a colour-blind variant, and I can always ask for some help if it doesn’t. If anything, the worst part of it is knowing I still haven’t found them.”

“How long have you been looking?”

“Since I was young. It’s one of the reasons I set out to sea. I’d be an orphan my entire life, surviving with the scraps I managed to get my hands on. Looking back on it now, with everything I’ve done, it was more existing than living. There were happy moments, but it was no life for anyone, especially a child.” 

His eyes shifted, turning to watch the ocean as it arched up and down in the wind. Though he only stared out for a few seconds, she saw a visible calm come over him.

“And so, when I was twelve, I decided I didn’t want to be alone, that I wanted to find that one person who might want to stay by my side and create a family. I still haven’t found my soulmate, but I did find a family. I think I was the most fortunate I’ve ever been when I boarded this ship on the day I left my home island. “ 

 I can’t let me him be without his soulmate, not after all the kindness he’s shown me.

“I’ll help you look,” Lily exclaimed.

He looked perplexed. “Help me look?” 

She nodded. “I won’t be with you for very long, but I do my best to help you find your soulmate.” 

Marco beamed. He seemed ecstatic at the offer. 

“I’ll gladly accept that offer, Lily.” 

Lily sighed, “It might not be much of an offer unless we stop on any populated islands.” 

“It’s a coincidence, but we’re stopping at one of our islands tomorrow. If I remember right, they’ll be holding a festival to celebrate the first harvest of the year. They get a lot of traffic from nearby islands too. So, want to go with me?”

FrEAK

They flashed in her mind again, their claws ripping her confidence and bravery apart and letting the anxiety and fear seep in. It made what had been so simple now impossible.

If I try to help him, I’ll be a burden. I should never have offered, knowing what I am.

“Sorry, Marco, it might not be the best idea. I apologies for the trouble,” the second she finished speaking, Lily whirled around and began walking away, nearly dropping the plate she had forgot she held.

“Wait, Lily!” Marco called from behind her, concern in his voice

She stopped the guilt from hearing his obvious concern causing her halt. She hated worrying people, and this was no exception.

Marco quickly appeared in front of her, leaning down they were face-to-face.

“What made you so upset? Do you not want to go to the festival?”

She shook her head. “I do, but, how could I? Every village or town I go to I get ostracised because of my mask. They think I’m some horrible criminal or…”

“Or?”

“A freak, a disgusting freak.”

There was silence for a moment “Lily, can I hug you?”

She weakly nodded, expecting a quick, pitiful embrace. Instead, she noticed the weight lifted from her hands as Marco gently took the plate and put it beside the door.

Then, with a speed that Lily surmised could only come from an expert hugger, he gave her a gentle smile and hugged her.

He was warm and soft. It wasn’t like Ace’s warmth, which with his new devil fruit was nearly overwhelming, nor was near smothering like Luffy’s ecstatic hugs. This was a pleasant warmth, experienced when sitting in the sun on just the right day, with grass dancing along your exposed skin. It was a feeling Lily wanted to get lost in. But soon, Marco ended the embrace, stepping back, but remaining close.

“I’m not going to ask what you went through and I’m not going to ask Ace either. I want you to tell me when you’re ready if you ever are. Until then, know that I don’t care if anyone looks down on me for choosing to spend time with you. I’m happy to do so even if it means I’m an outcast for it. Besides, I’m a pirate. I’m used to the looks and judgement, its sort of a job requirement.”

She wanted to doubt him. It wasn’t the first time someone used pretty words and promises to gain her trust. But she also knew people, it was a necessity for her, learning how to properly ready people. And that’s how Lily knew that Marco was sincere.

I think I can let myself trust him a little.

“Also, I should mention this isn’t an ordinary festival. It customary to dress up, so you won’t stand out, if you still want to go, of course.”

A smile only known to her, appeared on her face. “I’d like that a lot.”

A smile returned to his face. “Then I’ll come to get you once we dock. It should be around midday, so keep an eye out for me around then. For now, would you let me escort you back to the kitchen? I’m sure Thatch is wondering where you went.”

With a nod from Lily, the two began to walk together. It was a silent walk back, both of them far too preoccupied with thinking about tomorrow to speak. They were so distracted in fact that neither of them had remembered to pick up the plate that now sat next to Ace’s cabin door.

[etlunainmorte]

A short instruction!

Please, watch the video to get a full grasp of what V would be doing later on in the story.

Thank you so much and enjoy the latest chapter!

***

❄❄❄

***

*Chinese Black Tea*

Directions

1. Preparation

Before making a cup of black tea, you're supposed to get a clean tea set ( such as a teapot, fair cup, and cups ), tea, and a kettle of boiling water prepared.

2. Measuring Out the Tea Into the Cup / Teapot

Measure out the desired amount of black tea leaves ( 3 to 5 grams for 150 to 250 ml of tea ) and put them in the cup or teapot.

3. Boiling Water and Pouring It Into the Cup / Teapot

Boil the water and pour it into the cup. If a teapot is used, you're advised to fill 80% of the teapot with water ( to avoid spillage when pouring ).

4. Observing the Color and Smelling the Fragrance

Steep the tea leaves for 2 to 3 minutes. Then you're highly advised to observe the red infusion and smell its fruity fragrance.

5. Enjoy It

As the tea cools down, you can fully enjoy its delicious taste.

*Chinese Walnut Cookies ( 核桃酥 )*

Prep Time - 55 minutes

Calories - 590

Servings - 4

Ingredients

120 grams unsalted butter ( 1 stick / 8 tablespoons, softened at room temperature )

1/4 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 large egg ( beaten )

1 1/2 cups all - purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 pinch salt

1/2 cup walnuts ( shelled, broken to small pieces )

Directions

Add butter, granulated sugar and brown sugar into a large bowl. Mix with a hand mixer on low until smooth.

Add 2 tablespoons of egg. Keep mixing until fully and combined.

Add flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Mix until it just forms a dough. Do not over mix. It is okay if there is a bit of dry flour left in the bowl.

Change to a spatula. Add walnuts and add them into the dough.

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C ( 350 F ).

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper or prepare a nonstick cookie sheet. Scoop about 1 and 1/2 tablespoons cookie dough and transfer it to the cookie sheet, 1 scoop apart from each other. You can also use smaller cookies by using 1 tablespoon dough per cookie.

Once the dough is divided, flatten the dough into a round disk, about 6 - cm ( 1/3 - inch ) in thickness.

Mix the remaining egg with 1 teaspoon water to make the egg wash. Right before baking, brush a thin layer of egg wash on the top of each cookies.

Bake for 31 to 35 minutes, or until the cookies are cooked through.

Remove the cookies from the oven and place them onto a cooling rack for 5 minutes. Then transfer the cookies onto the rack until completed cooled down.

You can store them in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

***

"You said, please, say yes." You excitedly informed him. "And I said, yes! I'm going to the New Year's Ball with you, V!"

It took the poet a full minute before he finally realized what you were talking about. And when he finally realized what your words truly meant, his eyes slowly widened and his mouth fell open in shock. He grabbed his messy hair with both hands and spoke, "That - that's your answer, right? You'll go to the Ball with me?"

"Hahaha! Of course, you silly poet!" You laughed as you threw yourself at him, hugging him and placing a tender kiss on his cheek. Oh, how sweet you smelled. What a nice morning, indeed! "See ya!"

And before V could even reciprocate with a kiss of his own, you took your hands off him, waved, and went back to your house.

"Wow, I can't believe it! She said, yes!" Nico, who was standing for more than a few minutes just outside the house and witnessed everything, said. "Ya know what this means, V!"

"And what does that mean?" V, who was startled and embarrassed when he realized that Nico saw you kissing him, asked, his eyes landing dangerously on hers.

With a huge smile on her face, she went towards the poet, flailing her arms like crazy and sending most of her groceries flying in the chilly winter air just like that day when she found out that Avery commissioned him to drive the restless spirit out of her mansion. V took a few steps back but, he was not able to escape when he has come face to face with the crazed Artisan, herself.

"Dance!" Nico screeched, sending V's ears into oblivion. "Ya must learn how to dance! Just like,... "

And V, who knew exactly what she was talking about, gulped nervously and spoke, "Just like,... ?"

This made the woman's eyes glow with an unexplainable kind of energy. "Oh, ya know! ELVIS PRESLEY!"

***

❄ Three Wishes ❄

***

X

***

"So, what do ya think, man?" Nico asked V when the video ended. "Ye can handle it, right?"

"Can you do that, V?" Griffon, who was flying just above the poet's head, chimed in.

"Master, can you move like that?" Shadow, whose large paws were on top of the table where Nico's cellphone was, added.

And V, who just saw, in full, excruciating detail, how Elvis Presley moved and wooed the female audiences who went wild for him, drew back and placed a hand on his forehead. "I,... excuse me. Before I,... completely,... lose myself,... !"

"It's too much for Shakespeare!" Griffon, who helplessly watched as Shadow went after V towards the bathroom, exclaimed. "Why does he have to learn how to gyrate and grind like Elvis Presley, anyway?"

Nico hummed, drumming her chin with her fingertips. "I have caught some news that (Y/N)'s stupid ex is attending the Ball."

"Ah! The douchebag ex!" Griffon added, trying his very best to ignore the pitiful sounds of V throwing up in the bathroom.

"Yeah, him." Nico confirmed. "And I bet ya he'll do anythin' he can to shame V in front of many people after what happened in the shopping district, now that (Y/N) has agreed to be Poetry Boy's date."

"Ah! What do we do?! We can't let Shakespeare eat someone else's dust!"

"That's why I'm pushin' him to learn Elvis! I'm a hundred percent sure he'll be a hit with the ladies, and Fleminger, being a huge Elvis fanboy, will surely like him. But, now, that seems impossible." Nico cringed, her nose wrinkling at the disgusting sounds she's hearing from the bathroom. It sounded as if V was emptying his breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon, and fried rice from his stomach in multiple sessions of puke, and she’s starting to pity him. "I mean, how virgin is that man, anyway?"

"Virgin enough!" Griffon snapped to cover up the truth that V have zero experience when it came to relationships and intimacy. "Anyways, look for somethin' less sexual than Elvis! Anythin'!"

"Alright! How about,..."

About thirty minutes later, V came out from the bathroom looking more peaked and weaker than ever before, like he hasn't eaten for a whole day. Despite that, he seemed determined to finally learn the ways of the King Of Rock.

"I'm ready." His voice, despite sounding weak, was laced with utter determination. "If (Y/N) enjoys such move, then I would gladly learn Elvis Presley for her. Anything for my sweet, little - "

Ladies and gentlemen, we've got a special treat for tonight!

I'm gonna call my friend Olly up here to sing to you ladies!

Olly!

Yeah!

Let's go, man!

Okay!

"Hey, man! Ye're just in time. Come here!" Nico called from the living room as some lively kind of music begun blasting from the speakers. The woman was also able to connect her phone to the television via a strange device ( V has learned not to question her regarding things like this and just allowed her to do her stuff ), and a few moments later, he found himself staring at the two dancers in the screen, completely mesmerized of their swift and exact, yet fun and engaging, movements.

My name is Olly, nice to meet you can I tell you, baby.

Look around there's a whole lot of pretty ladies.

But not like you, you shine so bright, yeah!

I was wondering if you and me could spend a minute.

On the floor up and close getting lost in it.

I won't give up without a fight.

V's eyes widened. The couple looked like they were really enjoying the dance! The movements looked snappy and hip, and the fast routine engulfed him whole in an instant! He even felt his toes and his fingers drumming to the beat of the pleasant sound!

He was interested! And this made Nico and Griffon nod in approval. Finally! A dance that was best suited for V, the mysterious one!

I just wanna, oh baby!

I just want you to dance with me tonight!

So come on, oh baby!

I just want you to dance with me tonight!

"What is this wonderful dance?" V asked as the routine ended.

"It's called Jive, V." Nico answered. "So, what do ya say? Wanna learn it?"

"Yes, please!" V answered with glee as he faced the woman. "But, (Y/N). Does she know how to do this?"

"She does! Actually, I think I've seen her dance that with Roman during his wedding party. You know, the day you wore that little lace garter on her thigh?"

Of course! How could he forget? His fingers gliding against your smooth skin as he slipped the little garter to your foot and wore it up to your thigh. And your shy, little smile and blushing cheeks as you looked into his eyes.

That lovely woman he thought he'd never see again,...

How could he forget?

And now that you have agreed to be his date, he will do anything to make that evening special for the both of you.

He will see this night through, even if it meant he has to learn some moves that could be considered out of his comfort zone.

He will do it for his sweet, little, beloved lady. He will do it for you.

And so, for the rest of the whole afternoon, V did nothing but watch Jive tutorials on the internet to learn the dance. With Nico and his familiars' help, he was able to learn it in only three hours. At least the basic parts of the dance, that is. With a few more hours of learning and practice, V was confident that he could master it in time for the New Year's Ball. He knew he will succeed and his hard work would pay off.

"I,... never really expected that I could learn something like this." The poet confessed as they enjoyed the snacks that Nico prepared for them - some Chinese walnut cookies paired with black Chinese tea ( she said it's for V's vitality, or something ). "It's true what they say: when there's a will, there's a way."

"Exactly!" Nico answered as she relaxed on the sofa, her legs crossed, and her fingers idly playing with the remote as she held the teacup with her other hand. "And with a few more practices, I'm sure ye'll snag the title of King! And (Y/N) will be the Queen!"

"I never wanted to earn that title." V confessed, taking a sip of the oriental style beverage.

"Why not?" Nico, whose eyebrows furrowed at what V just said, asked.

"Her happiness is enough for me. And her smile," V said, his own smile never leaving his gentle features. " ... is more than enough. Her happiness,... means everything to me."

To this, Nico smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Of course. And I'm sure if it's you, she will smile. She will be happy."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. Wanna bet on it?"

V chuckled. "There's,... no need for that."

"Well, that's - "

Nico was interrupted when a portal suddenly appeared right before them. It was like - !

"HOLY SHEEP! WHAT'S THAT?!" Nico yelled, frightening both Griffon and Shadow, who were minding their own business in one corner of the room.

V, on the other hand, was not surprised. With a knowing smile, he stood and made his way towards the portal, waiting for,... something,... to come out of it.

And when someone finally did come out, Nico, Griffon, and Shadow could not help but be frightened.

"Just in time," V greeted the man who came out of the portal with a slight tilt of his head and a smirk. " ... as always."

"I'm,.... never late." The man with white, spiky hair and cold eyes answered.

"Y - y - you're," Nico stuttered as she pointed at the visitor. She was still scrambling on the floor with V's poor familiars. " ... Dante's twin brother!"

The eyebrows of Dante's twin brother shot up to his hairline at the way Nico addressed him. He sheathed his sword and decided to just let this blunder of hers slip through.

"Vergil." V greeted as he offered his hand.

"You still go by that one letter name of yours?" Vergil, whose presence alone was too much compared to the powers of V and his familiars combined, asked as he shook V's hand.

"Yes, and I prefer it to remain that way." V answered as he went back to his chair and gestured for his brother to sit opposite him. "You being here, I assume you've brought it."

"I'm not Dante." Vergil snapped, his eyes landing on Nico and making her even more terrified. "I always fulfill my duties."

"W - w - what's he sayin', V?" Griffon whispered as he grasped his master's shoulders in fear of the man.

"Master, he might hurt you!" Shadow added as she huddled close to V in fright.

And Vergil heard this. "What hospitality you bestow upon your guests!"

"Forgive them. They are simply," V apologized, and with one swift move of his hand, the two familiars went back to him in an instant. " ... awed,... by your presence."

"Intimidated,... is what you wanted to say." Vergil retorted.

"You know me too well."

“That is a vast understatement."

There was a momentary silence between the men, and a few seconds later, Vergil finally showed V the thing he was holding onto. It was an old and extremely heavy - looking ornate box that seemed to contain something very important. The half Devil placed it on top of the table and effortlessly slid it towards V. The poet carefully opened it under the eyes of the curious Nico, who stood behind him, and soon, their eyes were met not with some kind of treasure but of something that seemed much more valuable.

"Father wore that when he confessed his feelings of love to mother." Vergil explained as V took the old outfit out of the box to examine it. "And that trinket," V noticed the necklace at the bottom of the box and picked it up. " ... was his wedding gift to her."

"Wow!" Nico gasped in awe as V allowed her to touch the golden necklace with the most beautiful sapphire gem on it. "This looks really expensive."

"It is not only expensive. It is more valuable than you think." Vergil answered as he leaned against the table with one elbow and propped his temple against his fist. "You could even say it is more valuable than any mortal's life."

"I did not ask for this." V spoke with utmost sincerity. He only asked for Vergil's help with the vintage outfit. He never expected his brother to do more than just that. He was practically giving away their mother's most prized possession!

"And I did not ask for anyone’s permission or opinion to bring that." Vergil answered truthfully. "You are going to that Ball with the person you loved. If you have no intention, whatsoever, of letting her go, then you better do everything you can in your power to make her yours. Do as father did, and make him proud." And with a slight glance at the plate of Chinese walnut cookies on the table next to him, he added, "And that girl (Y/N) deserved that trinket more than Dante. He will only sell it to pay his mountain of debt, if I may say so."

"How could I ever repay you for this?" V asked as he put the trinket and the outfit back to the ornate box. "I,... don't earn much. At least, not enough to pay for something like this."

"You don't have to." Vergil answered as he stood and made his way to the center of the living room where he first materialized. "I've made myself clear. Make that girl yours and carry on a proper Sparda bloodline. If anyone should do it, then it's you. I can't trust Dante with it, after all."

"What about you, Vergil?" Nico, whose fear of the tall man in blue finally dissipated, asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Aren't you going to the Ball? You received an invite, right?"

"How did you know about that?" Vergil unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the ground, his eyes narrowed at the woman.

"Dante is a chatterbox, ya know what I'm sayin'?"

Vergil's eyes narrowed even more. "What else did he tell you?"

"Yer date dumped ya."

"Well," Vergil turned away from them, raised his sword high up in the air that it almost reached the ceiling, and made a portal that was similar to the one he made earlier to get to V's house. " ... if he really is that interested in that Ball, then I should go directly to him right now and shove those invites down his throat. Maybe then, he would learn that it is foolish to dive his nose on other people's businesses."

"I'm grateful for your help, Vergil." V simply said. "I truly am."

"It was nothing." Vergil answered but, before he could step into the portal, he turned around once more and strode towards the table, making it there in only a few steps due to his long legs. "Can I, ah, have one of those?"

It took V a few seconds to realize that Vergil was actually asking for some cookies, and when he nodded, the intimidating Devil Hunter, who lived a far more decent life than his own twin by slaying Demons and earning more money than him, gingerly took one treat, a noticeable blush creeping up his pale face, and turned around unceremoniously.

And without another word, he stepped towards the portal he made and finally left. But, not before V and Nico hearing the audible crunch of the cookie that Vergil just ate away from their prying eyes first.

***

❄ @la-vita , @dreaming-gamer , @clevermentalitybeliever , @birdgirl69 , and @v-vic . ❄

***

"Ya sure ye wanna watch that Elvis vid?" Nico asked as she stepped out of V's house into the cold weather outside. "I thought ya don't want it."

"I'm pretty sure." V said with a grin. "One song there actually,... lured me in."

"Ah, that song!" Nico thoughtfully said. "Yeah, that was nice. Well, be seein' ya! And don't forget to call if ya need help!"

"I sure will."

"Bye!"

Not a moment has passed after V closed the door to his house when Nico noticed your former lover coming out of your house, looking down and rejected.

And he noticed her, as well.

"What are you looking at?!" Christopher growled at her, making her draw back cautiously. He seemed really mad, and with the bouquet and the box of chocolates in his hands, it only meant one thing: that he tried to win (Y/N) once more but she rejected him. And this made Nico smile from ear to ear.

"Whoa, I'm not even starin' at ya, no!" Nico's sarcastic answer only infuriated Christopher even more.

"You, STUPID BITCH - !"

"AH, AH, AH! Don't try it." Nico warned with a smile, then, she pointed at V's house behind her with her thumb. "Remember that Red Grave Muckspout? The fat bird that tried to kill ya? It lives there now! Ya don't want it to hear ya, or else,..."

"Or else, what?"

Nico placed her hand on her hip and playfully waved at Christopher with the other. "Or else it's bye bye eyeballs for ya!" And with it, she trotted away, humming her favorite song on the way to her ugly white van with a neon sign in it that says, Devil May Cry.

Nico's actions made Christopher look at the house, and there, on that window, he saw the man called V examining a set of vintage clothing that looked far more exquisite than his.

Wait, vintage clothing? 

"Hey, V!" Christopher heard a shrill male voice coming from the house. V was not alone. "Ya think (Y/N) would like that necklace?"

"One could only hope." V answered as he took out an extremely expensive - looking jewelry from an ornate box on the table where the vintage clothing also came from. "But, for now, I want to practice more,… dances,… for the Ball."

"Don't overwork yerself, Shakespeare!"

"So! You're the one who took my (Y/N) away from me!" His teeth gritting in suppressed anger, Christopher threw the bouquet and the box of chocolates away and took out his cellphone from his pocket. Dialing a particular number, he waited until someone answered his call. And with fury - filled eyes for the man who was the cause of his embarrassment in front of you and your grandmother, he spoke, "I have a job for you,..."

You will pay for this, you, bastard!

***

❄❄❄

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