#it's not nearly as much of a staple food
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
canisalbus · 2 months ago
Note
so a few weeks ago i went to a local scandinavian fair/market (i live in the northeastern part of the usa, so not a Huge population of scandinavian immigrants/ancestry. a pretty small but really nice gathering!), and there was someone there selling imported Finnish candy. i thought of you talking about salmiakki and asked if she was selling any, which apparently she was, but sold out pretty fast! i still bought a bag of assorted Finnish candies that she had put together herself, and i really liked them! however... one day i will try salmiakki, I've got it in my mind now.
Ooo that's so cool! It feels really strange to think of Finnish candy being sold as rare imported goods on the other side of the world, but that's how it goes, of course. Where I come from, some common American brands are still exotic and rarely stocked by stores, I remember coming across Reese's cups in person for the first time just a couple of years ago and going "OH I've heard of those!!"
Salmiakki is a powerful and unique flavor, and as a finn it genuinely brings me such glee that you remembered me mentioning it once and were curious enough to try to give it a taste! Sorry they were sold out. I hope you'll get your hands on some sooner or later. (I personally like the hard candy varieties like turkinpippuri, oukki doukki, patruuna and dracula piller the best, but I'd say those can be on the more aggressive end so, like, brace yourself a little if that happens to be your introduction point).
158 notes · View notes
neeturnal · 1 year ago
Text
i'm actually so stressed about money it's not even a joke like oh my god
3 notes · View notes
satoruxx · 5 months ago
Text
THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 5k words
✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of injuries, hints at past violence/abuse, societal inequality, arguments, medical equipment, toji is a little less of an asshole in this lmao !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: and here's part three !! i didn't expect it to be this long but here we are lmao. pls make sure to read the previous parts before this one to understand what's going on !! anyways i hope you enjoy :33
prev. | series masterlist.
Tumblr media
toji has only been with you for two days, and you can already confidently say that stubbornness is a staple for him.
the first morning, he had stayed in his room until you had gotten up, only ambling outside when he heard the sound of you moving around in the kitchen. it was only then that it dawned upon you that you hadn't given him anything to eat after his shower the previous night, and he watched you practically trip over yourself trying to apologize.
when you asked why he didn't just ask for food, he only shrugged his shoulders with an adamant scowl, and that's when you knew you'd have to be the one to suggest things for him. because if you don't say it, toji will not ask for it.
the first day had passed by rather unceremoniously. after you fed him a heavy breakfast, which he had tore into with no hesitation, he just lumbered back into the room and fell asleep again. you didn't really know what to do—perhaps he was just exhausted from all the injuries and spending time outdoors.
so you didn't bother him. he spent the rest of the day repeating this cycle, coming out for food and then going back in. only later at night, you had finally bothered him, telling him that you'd replace the bandages you tied the previous night after he showered.
so that's what you did, and he nodded at you in a silent goodnight before heading back in. you must've saw him for maybe two hours in the whole day.
but today your approach is different.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't concerned about his injuries, because you know there is only so much you can do with your first aid kit at home. besides toji is as silent as he is stubborn—you have no clue what other injuries he's hiding from you. and that's what you're trying to reason out with him now.
it's not going well.
"toji please," you beg, trying to push yourself into his line of sight. "i promise they'll help you."
"no. no way," he hisses back, baring his teeth. "they'll just send me back to that hellhole."
"no they won't! they'd want to help you get better!" you're feeling more and more desperate as his stubbornness rises. you're not nearly smart enough to know how to treat even a quarter of his wounds. besides, toji had been on the streets for at least over a month—isn't it smart to want a doctor to check it out?
"maybe they'd wanna help," he grunts, crossing his arms. there's a hint of panic coursing through his veins, but he masks it well with rapidly rising irritation. "but they will send me back. don't you get it? i'm a wild animal. they aren't gonna send me out to go roam the streets. they'll send me back to the ring because they know i'll be kept under control there."
your shoulders slump, watching as he takes a seat on your couch—he keeps himself pressed to the very corner of it, and that just makes you feel more miserable. you take a seat on the other side, keeping your distance.
"okay, no big hospitals," you acquiesce. "but i definitely don't know how to fix those kinds of injuries."
toji half-heartedly shrugs, a wry smirk tugging at his scarred lips. "who cares? i'm tough, they'll heal."
you grimace. "definitely not. they'll probably get infected."
toji holds up his bandaged arm with a canine grin. "what d'ya mean? you did a pretty good job with this."
you pout at that, oddly embarrassed, but you remain steadfast in your argument. "all i did was disinfect it and wrap it up. but that doesn't mean that's all it needs. what if you need stitches or something?"
toji sighs heavily, fingers loosely curling around his wounded arm. he won't deny that you've been spectacularly caring for him over the past two days. and it's not like he really wants to upset you or anything.
but he has gone through too much to risk even a chance at being thrown back underground.
"i'll live," he sighs. he doesn't know much about being polite, but he does know that he doesn't enjoy the idea of being mean to you. for some reason he thinks that would just make him feel shitty. he's not sure why though—he's never been interested in what humans think anyway.
your eyes narrow, aggrieved. "if i find someplace that won't turn you in, then will you come?"
your relentless pursuit makes toji want to roll his eyes. he's not sure why you don't just take no for an answer. but he wants you to drop the conversation, so he just replies with a huffed, "sure."
there's no place you could take him that wasn't going to rat him out anyway. if you wanted to give him medical care, they would always ask for his details. and when they find out that he's not yours, and that he's come from off the streets, they will no doubt send out an alert.
and then it's only a matter of time before he's being thrown in the back of a van, drugs pumping through his veins.
he'd much rather stay in your cozy little space for as long as you'll let him, drunk off the comfort of good food and a roof over his head.
but toji did not realize that he had severely underestimated your sense of determination.
and that's how he finds himself sitting in an examination room, with you nervously tapping your foot against the floor. the muscles in his face hurt from how long he's been glaring at the wall, too angry to look at you. he knows you probably mean well, but he's almost sure that he'll never see you again after this appointment.
he's prepared to be dragged out of the building by a group of guards holding heavy tranquilizer guns—like so many of his kind before him.
"you're still mad." you say it like a statement, unamused, and toji huffs in return.
"you're underestimating how strong i am." he gives you a sidelong glance, and you bristle, crossing your arms and giving him a defiant stare.
"i think you're overestimating how strong you are." you shake your head, the defiance melting into earnest. "seriously though. i don't know much about treating wounds and i really don't want it to get worse."
he throws you an indifferent glance. "what's the point if they just send me back down there? at that point, little scrapes won't fucking matter."
you purse your lips. "i'm telling you, no one will snitch here."
"how are you so sure?" toji hisses back, ears pointing upward. you don't flinch, opening your mouth to answer.
"well—"
a knock interrupts you, and you both look to the door. toji's hackles rise almost immediatley, a low growl rumbling in his throat—something is off.
he can smell it.
the doctor walks in, blonde hair neatly pushed back and large frame covered in a white coat. his smile is friendly and mature, demeanor calm, and yet all toji can focus on is that this doctor is not human.
the short and rounded brown ears sitting atop his head is a clear indication.
toji almost hops off the bed. he has half a mind to take your arm and drag you out of there because why on earth is there a predator hybrid here at the doctor's office?
but before he can make a move, you're smiling wide at the blonde, voice coming out sweet and casual. "hi kento."
toji blanches, watching this "kento" guy exchange pleasantries with you like it's the most natural thing in the world.
do you just make it your business to go out and become friendly with dangerous predator hybrids? because toji cannot understand how a little human like you knows a fucking bear hybrid so well.
"is this him?" the doctor asks, finally looking at toji perched on the examination bed. you nod mutely, eyes raking over his figure.
the blonde steps forward, reassurance rolling off of him in waves because he can probably smell toji's apprehension. you do your best to bridge the gap.
"um toji, this is kento nanami." you motion to the blonde, who is watching toji like he's a specimen under a microscope—it makes toji's skin prickle. "kento, this is toji…um…"
he realizes that you're missing information and he spits out his last name quickly. "fushiguro."
"pleasure to meet you," nanami nods courteously. "though i wish it was under better circumstances."
"you're a hybrid." toji blurts it out before he can think twice. you throw him a semi-disapproving glance, but he doesn't pay it any mind, gaze too focused on the doctor's clearly animalistic traits. he recieves a placating smile in return.
"i am," kento nods, looking down at the chart in his hands. "and it seems like you are too. wolf right?"
"yeah," toji nods absentmindedly, trying to brush past all of this. he's more curious about the bear so casually standing in front of him. a hybrid even being allowed into a position as highly respected as a doctor is already an amazing feat—that hybrid being a predator hybrid was even more shocking.
"like i said on the phone, he's got some cuts and scrapes on his stomach and arm. i didn't know how serious they were…" your voice trails off, and the blonde nods indulgently.
"it's good you brought him in. they might be infected or need further care."
he turns to toji, whose ears remain alert and upright, and picks up his stethoscope. when he approaches, toji bares his teeth, snarling.
he can see you grimace from his peripheral. "toji—"
"it's okay," nanami holds up a palm, before pinning toji with an unwavering stare. "you're worried about confidentiality right?"
"there's no way a fucking doctor can get around this," toji spits in return. his palms are sweating. all he wants to do is drag you out of there and go hide in your home, because there is no other place that is safe. "i don't trust you."
"you don't have to trust me. but…" the doctor subtly nods his head in your direction. "do you trust her?"
toji's eyes flicker over to yours, watching the tense worry swirl within them, and he grumbles incoherently. his stomach flips in on itself. nanami takes his reluctance as a go ahead, pressing the metal of the diaphragm against toji's chest.
the wolf remains silent, though he is still irritated.
"relax," nanami sighs. "i won't tell anyone. trust me, i know how hard it is to make it out of there."
toji watches with rapt attention as kento lifts his stethoscope off, and his green eyes zero in on the branded numbers burned just under the doctor's jaw—0703.
toji's skin tingles, just where his own numbers are burned. 1231.
bile rises in his throat, but he pushes it down.
"you got out," toji mumbles, not able to keep the surprise out of his tone. nanami nods, a soft smile on his face as he writes down toji's heartrate on his chart.
"about seven years ago." he nudges his glasses further up his nose. "i made a run for it and then laid low for a few months. after some time, they called off the search."
"huh," toji grunts, disbelieving. he's not quite sure how this guy has managed it, but clearly he's done something right to be standing in front of him.
"of course, i was lucky," kento laments, motioning for toji to hold out his wounded arm—he does so wordlessly. "i was not an extremely popular or sought out fighter, so they didn't put that much effort into trying to find me."
toji believes that. bears tend to be on the gentler side of the predator groups, and while he's sure nanami could easily handle himself in a fight, it is always the more aggressive hybrids that are the most popular.
he would know after all.
"after that, it was just about finding another place to build up my life again." toji barely registers that the doctor has begun numbing his arm, too focused on his anecdote. from the corner of his eye, he can see that you're listening in with rapt attention. "i decided i'd make use of my freedom and pursue my dream career."
you and toji spend the next half an hour listening to nanami talk about his experiences. all the while, the doctor skillfully stitches toji's wounds up, never once faltering in his movements. he talks about the escape plan, the relentless pursuit of soldiers, of remaining in hiding until freedom was finally found. toji feels an odd sense of camaraderie, knowing that he has gone through quite a similar process in the last few months.
nanami explains that laying low was the hardest part, always on edge while stepping into the light because you can never be sure who's hiding in the shadows.
toji will never say this out loud, but thank god he found you.
"since then i've made it my job to help others like me," kento finally finishes securing the bandages around toji's abdomen, before looking up with a half smile.
the wolf mutely stares back. he recognizes that his body has relaxed in the doctor's presence, and his gaze flickers up to meet yours. there's a look of satisfaction sitting in your eyes, probably relieved to see that his wounds have actually been taken care of.
when you notice him looking, you give him a soft smile—he expertly looks away.
"trust me. i won't tell anyone about you." nanami stands up straight, fixing his glasses, before giving you a warm smile. "besides, she's an old friend."
the doctor nods at you, and toji suddenly feels a strange streak of irritability, especially because you beam in return—so grateful and sweet. a stone sits heavy in the wolf's stomach.
"i really appreciate this, kento." you look at the blonde earnestly. "it took a lot of convincing to get him to come get checked out."
"it's good you did." nanami pins toji with a knowing stare. "conditions are rough back there. usually hybrids have more injuries than they know."
"really?" you look between the two of them meekly, and toji has half a mind to tell nanami to stop talking—worry is not a good expression on you.
"they don't usually treat their hybrids when they get injured in fights. so yes, a lot of them tend to have past injuries that don't quite heal." you nervously assess toji's body with your eyes, and the wolf can hear the soft chuckle nanami lets out. "don't worry. he's fine."
your shoulders relax, and toji watches you with rapt attention.
a few minutes later, nanami leads you both to the receptionist, who toji notices, is a dark haired mouse hybrid—ijichi kiyotaka is printed across his nametag. the doctor quietly explains something, and the mouse nods, before typing away into the computer. toji realizes that they are probably falsifying records, and he relaxes immediately. while you settle things at the counter, nanami addresses toji one last time.
"you'll need to come back in a week so i can see the wounds again. until then, just take care of it like i explained and you should heal nicely."
toji nods, ears twitching awkwardly. "right…"
"if anything else happens, don't hesitate to come in." the doctor adjusts his glasses with a friendly smile. "you're always welcome. be careful out there."
toji swallows. he is already unused to such blatant kindness, but now you've managed to surround him with it. maybe your stupidly sweet personality attracts similarly sweet people.
in that sense, maybe he shouldn't be allowed to stay around you, too dark and gloomy for someone so bright.
nanami takes the wolf's silence with a soft laugh, before he raises his hand to wave at you. you grin back, before heading for the door—toji immediately follows you out. the two of you walk in relative silence, quiet but not uncomfortable.
his body feels good now, probably because of the numbing agent and secure bandages, but regardless, he feels good. he has not felt this comfortable in a long time, but it's not completely unwelcome. as weird as it sounds, he thinks that he wouldn't mind being the silently hulking animal wandering the city at your side.
there is one thing he's itching to ask though.
"how do you know him?" toji asks casually, still staring straight ahead. he can feel your gaze land on him, but he does not reciprocate it.
"kento?" he bristles at the name, but nods. "oh well. a few years ago my friend had to leave for a two week long business trip. she has a puppy hybrid at home, and of course her hybrid knows how to take care of herself, but my friend told me to go visit her and just check if she was okay every few days."
there's a strange look of sympathy on your face as you speak, and toji reels at how easy it is for him to pick up.
"when i went over one day, i found her just passed out on the ground. i had no clue what to do. hybrids might look like us humans but their health and anatomy is a little different, and i didn't know a single thing about puppy hybrids. so i went online and looked up specific doctors and hospitals that were good for hybrids because i was too nervous to just take her to a regular hospital. that's how i found kento."
your lips quirk upward, half rueful and half fond. "i figured a doctor who was an actual hybrid would treat her better than a human doctor would."
toji listens quietly. he does not know many humans who would put this much consideration into hybrids, mostly because hybrids are kept as pets, not considered as equals. he cannot understand why you thought so deeply about a hybrid that wasn't even yours.
"anyways since then i've bothered kento with a lot of things." you chuckle to yourself. "like last year there was a stray cat in my alleyway with a broken paw, and i brought him to kento even though i could've just taken him to a vet or a shelter."
"why's that?" toji awaits your asnwer, ears twitching at the sound of your amused voice.
"kento's always been really sweet and gentle to his patients. i guess i just trust him." you turn to peer up at toji with a smile. "that's why i knew he wouldn't even think about ratting you out."
toji grunts in return, not wanting to admit that you're probably right. any other hospital or doctor would have to report that there was a wolf hybrid out there that was unaccounted for. since you are not his owner, they'd immediately throw him back where he came from—after all, predators like him are too dangerous to be left alone.
"if anything, you can visit kento for whatever. he'd keep your secret."
"you willing to bet on it?" toji asks you gruffly, and you smirk at him with a strange spark of challenge in your eyes.
"bet my life."
he grins—another feral display of animalistic behavior.
"that's a lot to bet," he comments, flashing his canines at you, and you nod back, pleased.
"i'm pretty confident in myself."
"hm." toji lips remain in their comfortably amused position. he briefly recognizes that his feet are automatically taking him back to your place, and he internally questions just how many times he has found his way back to you before.
"we have another stop to make." toji glances at you as you speak, raising a heavy brow.
"where's that?"
"clothing shopping."
he blinks, frowning. "why the fuck would we do that?"
"well since you're staying for at least a couple weeks until your wounds heal, you probably need clothes," you say matter-of-factly. "the pair of clothes i gave you are the only things i have. you need more."
he briefly wants to ask whose clothes those are, but he shuts his mouth, knowing it's none of his damn business. he can still smell them, the smell of some other man—his lip curls distastefully.
"i don't gotta stay with you for that," he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. he can feel his claws scrape against the fabric. "i can just go back to your precious doctor myself when i need to."
"and who's gonna pay for the visit?" you ask dryly. toji bristles, heat prickling at the back of his neck. you sigh heavily.
"look, i'm telling you i don't mind." your voice is earnest, and he can feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face. "i would feel really uneasy if you left and i didn't know what happened to you."
"why do you care so much anyway?" toji doesn't mean to sound so accusatory. he's now realized that you are just one of those stupidly rare good people, but even then he wonders why you don't just kick him to the curb and move on with your life.
but instead you frown at him, semi offended, and then roll your eyes.
"well…" you shrug nonchalantly. "we're friends. so i care."
friends.
toji almost scoffs in disbelief.
unsurprisingly, you are utterly ridiculous. he knows that you both have shared conversation for many weeks while he waited for food in your alleyway. and he realizes that he has stupidly memorized your schedule, so much so that he found himself waiting in the rain when you didn't get home on time. and sure, you had so tenderly and idiotically invited him into your space and treated his dirtied body with the utmost care.
but friends?
you really needed better survival instincts. and to stop being so trusting. it's stupid, and dangerous, and probably not good for you in the long run.
(but the word ignites a pleasant flame deep in toji's belly—unwavering and strong. he finds himself unable to extinguish it.)
an hour later, toji finds himself awkwardly rummaging through racks and shelves of clothing. the bright lights and intense air conditioning makes his hair stand on end, body feeling oddly exposed. but then his jade eyes scan the store and find your figure, curiously peering at items without a care in the world, and he relaxes a bit.
after a while of picking out a few dark and albeit plain pieces of clothing, he finds that shopping is somewhat enjoyable. the different textured fabrics are soft under his claws, and his ears twitch pleasantly at the sounds of music playing low through the speakers.
occasionally he'll look up from the shelves and see you in the distance—a few times you look back, and give him a sweet smile and a small wave that has his throat feeling strangely dry.
(it would be easy to devour something so openly waiting there.)
he immediately looks away.
toji briefly wonders what kind of clothes you tend to prefer, mind wandering. he bites back a huff of amusement when he thinks about the fluffy pajamas you were wearing when you came outside holding that stupid umbrella.
so damn silly.
"do they seriously just let animals roam around unsupervised?"
his moment of peace is shattered by a grating voice, shrill with age and obnoxiousness. toji turns to look over his shoulder, expression sour. though he towers over her, the old lady standing about five feet away from him looks anything but scared.
"you talkin' to me?" he raises a brow, hair standing on end.
"yes you," she sniffs in his direction, eyeing him from head to toe like he's nothing more than dirt on the bottom of her ugly boots. "animals aren't allowed indoors."
toji bristles, sharp eyes narrowing. despite being used to these comments, they still make his skin flare with heat. he briefly considers reacting how he normally does when he faces this kind of attitude—baring his teeth and spitting out growls and insults until the person is scared shitless.
but then he realizes that it's not like he can just snap at her and run away. his actions will so easily be traced back to you and your pristine smiles. he finds the idea of putting you in trouble to be nauseating.
so he bites his tongue, ears tense and flicking irritably—he's making decisions on your behalf now, too.
"i don't know how on earth they let you in here." she glares at him snootily, physically unable to shut up. "letting animals wander around without any—"
"actually he's mine."
toji turns to look at you as you take your place at his side, your voice clear and steady. warm fingers curl around his bicep comfortably, but there is ice in your expression that he has never seen before. you glare at the lady, who suddenly looks bashful.
"oh? that's so impressive. you managed to tame a beast this dangerous?"
he suppresses an eye roll, ready to walk you away from the ordeal, but your expression gets colder, anger radiating off of you in waves—toji does not know why it makes him so pleased.
"actually i didn't tame him at all," you hiss back, spitting the word like it's venom. "and if you make him mad i won't stop him from attacking you."
her face pales, but indignation comes off stronger. "excuse me? you don't know how to control your own pet?!"
"he's not my pet. he's his own person," you snap irritably, gaze cold—though toji can feel your heated aggression rising. "didn't you ever learn basic respect? for all your preaching, even hybrids know that better than you do."
she gapes at you, appalled, but before she can get another word in, you're tightening your grip on toji's arm and turning him away. "fuck off, bitch."
toji's ears twitch at the sounds of her angry sputtering in the distance, but his gaze remains zeroed in on you. your brows are pinched deep, and there's a frustrated scowl sitting on your lips as you drag him over to another section. "here, let's look at some of these clothes."
toji recognizes you are trying to change the subject, but he does not deny how your anger on his behalf feels so intoxicatingly addicting. he cannot help but push further.
"thought i would attack her, did ya?" he grins cheekily, canines glinting, and you huff. suddenly, you look rather embarrassed, peering up at him bitterly.
"i was just trying to get her to shut up. if you attacked anyone we'd be in big trouble."
"didn't realize you had that in you," toji ponders. for some reason, he cannot stop analyzing your microexpressions, finding some sick joy in looking at you. "not bad for a cushy little human."
you roll your eyes—toji's stomach flips in tandem. he can feel his tail lazily moving back and forth.
"wow, a compliment from the big bad wolf," you throw him a scathing smile, but he can tell you're joking. "what an honor."
"pretty sure you're scarier than i am." toji watches you rustle through the clothes on the shelves, a wry smile now comfortably resting on his face. "think you took a few years off her life."
"i hope she trips," you mutter, and toji barks out a laugh, clear and unfiltered. your lips twitch upward at the sound.
"hurry up and pick stuff so we can home," you whine with another huff, shoving at his arm. "i'm starving here."
the word home rolls over toji's body—it's warm and velvety and comfortable in a way that scares him.
he spends the next fifteen minutes rustling through the racks. you amble away to peer at other items while he does so, trying to give him his privacy. toji both appreciates it and resents it—something about you being farther away from him makes his body tense.
after a while he calls you back, shoving a modest pile of clothing into your hands. "here, i'm done."
he's hoping you just nod and take him to the counter, but yet again, he's underestimated you. you look through each item, peering at the price tags critically, before finally sighing.
"are you trying to pick cheap stuff on purpose?" you look at him with a raised brow and he groans—caught.
"i don't wanna put you out."
"ugh toji," you say his name with so much stressed exasperation he has to fight back a grin. "don't worry about that. i barely spend money to begin with. i promise you i can afford decent clothes."
he glances to the side, stubborn. he still does not particularly enjoy the idea of being indebted to you—not that he would ever say that out loud.
"if you don't pick honestly, i'm gonna find that lady and get her to annoy you again."
he blinks, looking at you and your haughtily raised brows and crossed arms.
"oh fuck please don't," toji groans, rolling his eyes. "she was—"
"a bitch?" you finish, shaking your head with a smile. "yeah she was. so please pick things out properly and don't make me go find her."
"fine," he relents, reaching out to pick up the first semi-expensive looking thing he can find. he holds it up to his body and throws you a mocking grin. "happy now?"
and yet when he looks at you, you're giving him the most genuine smile, satisfaction glimmering in your eyes. "yeah, really happy."
his mouth goes dry, and toji spends the remainder of the trip saying yes to everything you pull off the shelves for him.
Tumblr media
taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echodead @totallygyomeiswife @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru @your-mum3000 @haydensjw @abadbitchblogs @marajafarli @twinky-wink @t4ters @17362939 @shadowlover321 @koko-1025 @daniella666girl @d1cklethep1ckle @an-ever-angry-bi @excedr @hibiscy @emmenic726 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @ewwitsbella @thisisew @crystaldreamland @namjooningera @call-memissbrightside @scyia @chugao @szired @keiva1000 @yoongies-bby @giamee @hypnoctiis @nappingmoon @tananaxx @twinklingbeautifulstars @tadabzzzbee @friedchicken-tendou
if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged, it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings !!
986 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago
Text
Heart II
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You try to recover
Tumblr media
You stay in the hospital for nearly two weeks as your new heart gets used to its new home in your body.
Ingrid and Mapi are with you the entire time.
Sometimes, one of them even skips training to come and see you. You're in a special hospital room and they have to wear silly facemasks when they come to visit that makes them look all weird.
They bring you lots of things to play with while you're stuck in bed and all of their friends send you flowers and food to keep you happy. Your caseworker comes in sometimes and she gets Mapi and Ingrid to sign lots of documents and helps them to sign you out of the hospital to take you home.
"Okay," Ingrid says as you all come up in the elevator together," You ready?"
You're wearing a special party hat because Mapi said that you were going to have a little party to celebrate your new heart. You don't really know why getting your new heart means a party but you also know that a party means lots of food and fun so you're happy to go back inside.
A few of Ingrid and Mapi's friends are already in there but you head straight for Patri and Pina because they're holding Bagheera, who's wearing a party hat too.
"Whoa, there," Ingrid says softly, still holding your hand tight like she's scared you're going to wink out of existence," Let's take it slow, alright?"
You frown and shrug. "Okay."
She keeps hold of your hand as you move to greet Bagheera. She mews at you softly, bumping her head against your chest.
"I know," You say," I've got my Santa heart." You look up at Pina and Patri. "Santa got me a new heart for Christmas. It goes boom-boom properly."
"Really?" Patri asks," That's cool. Do you feel better now?"
"Little tired sometimes," You reply, rocking back and forth on your feet," But still good!"
"She's been healing up very well." Ingrid's fingers run through your hair like yours run through Bagheera's. "The doctors are going to do another check next week and then we get to take her out again."
Even though you're out of the hospital now, you're not allowed out of the house for another week just so you can adjust to everything back home again.
"It'll be good to see you at training again," Pina says," We've been missing our little cheerleader."
"And you can join in now!" Patri exclaims and you whip your head over to Ingrid.
"Can I?"
She thinks for a moment. "We'll see," She says," Let's get through next week and then we'll see if you're strong enough to run around."
"Okay." You go back to stroking over Bagheera's fur and adjusting her party hat when she gets annoyed with it. You like Bagheera. You'd never seen a cat in real life before you came to live with Ingrid and Mapi so it's nice to have Bagheera with you now.
You yawn when you're about halfway through the movie Paredes put on and you climb up into Mapi's lap to lay on her. Her big hands rest on your back, gently stroking up and down until you're head feels too heavy for your body and it flops against her.
"She looks much better," Alexia says as she notices that you're out like a light.
"Yeah," Mapi says as she reaches for a blanket to drape around your body," They had her on a ventilator those first few hours after surgery and she looked so bad when they took her in. But...But she's better now, just a little sleepier."
"She just had major surgery," Alexia says," I think she's allowed to be a bit tired. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did."
Mapi laughs, gently rocking you. "I should put her to bed. I can't imagine those hospital ones were comfy."
Your weeks dissolve into a steady routine after you get your Santa heart. You still have to go to the doctor every week and they do tests on your new heart and they take out the little staples they put in your chest.
Ingrid still sticks to your side and she's always giving you cuddles and kisses. She lets you run around more now that the doctor says it's okay but she still wraps you up nice and warm because you still sometimes have issues with being cold.
A few months after you're declared fully fit, your caseworker comes to visit.
Ingrid lets her in while you've opened your mouth so Mapi can give you your medication. The doctor says that even though your Santa heart is working very well, you'll have to take medicine every day to make sure that your body wants to keep it.
Well, he said lots of big words and complicated stuff but Mapi explained it to you like that when you went to get ice cream after your appointment.
You case worker says hello to you before briefly looking around the house ago and then making you sit down in front of the tv with her. That makes you a bit nervous and you hang on Mapi's hand.
"With Mapi and Ingrid?"
"In a minute," Your caseworker says," I just want to have a little talk with you without them."
Your brow wrinkles. "And Bagheera has to go too?"
"Bagheera can stay," Ingrid promises you, kissing the top of your head and steering Mapi into their bedroom.
You stroke Bagheera's fur rhythmically as you sit in front of your caseworker.
"How are you feeling now?" She asks," With your new heart?"
"Santa got me a good one," You reply," But I've still got to take special medicine."
She writes something down. "And you always take your medicine?"
"Ingrid reminds me," You answer, getting a bit distracted by the way a single ray of sunlight is peaking through the blinds," And Mapi hides it in icing sometimes for when I don't want to take it."
She writes down something more. "That's good. And you like it here, with Ingrid and Mapi?"
The topic of your favourite girls makes you perk up. "They're my most favourite! Mapi is so cool! She's got lots of tattoos. She says that one day, she'll let me draw her one to put on her body."
Your caseworker nods along, her pen moving along the paper. "And what about Ingrid?"
"Ingrid gives me cuddles all the time," You say," And she lets me help make dinner and cookies and she takes me to the park and we go down the slide together."
Your caseworker stops writing and flips her notepad shut. "Do you remember what it means to have a caseworker like me?"
You nod.
"What does it mean?"
"It means that you find adults to look after me because I don't have parents."
Your caseworker nods. "Adults like Ingrid and Mapi," She says," They're fostering you."
You give her a little look. "I know." You don't know why she's talking about that. It makes you feel all weird inside and briefly, you wonder if your Santa heart is going boom-boom wrong like your old one.
"Sometimes," She says," Fostering is more temporary."
You don't like her words. It makes you feel all icky and bad inside. You shake your head. "No," You say," No! Stay here!"
Your caseworker hands you a picture. It's got a little family on it, a mummy and a daddy and two boys who have the same hair colour as you.
"This family doesn't want to foster you," Your caseworker says when you throw the picture on the floor and hold Bagheera close. "They want to adopt you. They think you'd fit in well with them. Like a forever home instead of a foster home."
You shake your head, your bottom lip wobbling. "No...No! Forever home with Ingrid and Mapi!"
Your caseworker sighs deeply, shuffling the picture of the little family back into her folder. "You want to stay here?" She checks," With Ingrid and Mapi?"
"And Bagheera," You say stubbornly," Because this is forever home. Mapi and Ingrid are forever with me and my Santa heart."
"And you don't want to live with this family?" She reaches for the picture again and you turn away.
"Ingrid and Mapi," You say firmly.
"Okay. Let's get Ingrid and Mapi in here."
You're near to tears when they finally come back in and Ingrid pulls you into her arms immediately. You wipe your cheeks dry on her shirt and blindly reach for Mapi.
"Stay," You beg," Stay here. With you."
Mapi whips her head to your caseworker. "We've already begun to file the paperwork!" She hisses," Why would you bring them up to her?"
"I'm just doing my job. I couldn't let her stay here if she didn't want to!"
"Want to stay!" You say, hiding yourself away in Ingrid's neck," Want to stay!"
"You're stressing her out," Ingrid cuts in plainly when it looks like Mapi and your caseworker are going to start yelling," I understand you're doing your checks and you have to get her opinion but she's barely been out of the hospital for a few months and the doctors said that undue stress isn't good for her Santa heart." She strokes a hand over the back of your head. "We've filed the paperwork. She wants to live with us over the other family that expressed interest. We want her here with us."
Your caseworker sighs. She does that a lot. "I can't promise this will stay private. You're public figures. Your papers will be rushed through as soon as possible."
When she leaves, you finally peak out from your hiding place. With big, wet eyes, you look between Ingrid and Mapi. "Stay here?"
"Yes," Mapi says with an air of finality," You're staying here."
862 notes · View notes
darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago
Text
You Make Me Wanna 5
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
Tumblr media
Three times. Walter, Mr. Marshall, Detective, whoever he is that day, has driven by your house three times. Three times that you’ve noticed. 
The first time you recognised his car, you were taking out the trash. The second time, you were making sure your siblings got on the bus for school. And the third time, you’re coming out the front door, in uniform as you mentally steel yourself for another day at the grocery store. 
You try not to be too obvious as you look for him. You set out on your usual route, a peek here and there over your shoulder, a strategic glance down the street as you turn to cross. Maybe he can stop you for jaywalking. A perfect excuse for him to swing around his weight. 
You take out your phone as you come in sight of the plaza with the grocery store at its centre. Still not word from Faye. You really don’t expect her to be the first to reach out. You’re still sore yourself. It isn’t just that she ditched you, again, it’s that she was so quick to believe you sold her out. She knows the way her father is and yet just like him, she assumes you’re in the wrong. 
As you approach the front doors of the store, you glance back at the lot. It’s sparse with vehicles, still early enough that stockers work at the shelves and the deli still fills its baskets with slices and salads. You clock in and tie on your apron, taking your vigil behind a till. Debbie leaves you as the sole cashier as she goes to do her counts. 
You stare across the store, vision blurring, as the ceiling speakers drone out 80s pop. Your eyes nearly cross at the orbs of colours that form around you; the medley of produce, the smear of labels, and the looming shade of endless aisles. As you detach yourself from the monotony, you’re filled with a cloud of futile acceptance. Every day for the rest of your life. 
Last year, you still had hope. You remember you told Faye you could save up and join her at college. That’s definitely not going to happen. You barely saved a nickel. Just like high school, your cheques were spent picking up after your mom’s job hopping. Your siblings can’t go without food or clothes or everything you didn’t have. Even when you get a few staples free from the clearance cart, you’re still paying far too much just to feed the lot. 
Chrissie is almost fourteen now. She offered to put in an application but she’s still a few years from all that. Besides, you don’t want her to be like you. Only ever worrying about the empty fridge and your mom’s latest antics.  
Zooey is only ten and blissfully unconcerned with anything but anime and drawing in her sketchbook, and your brother, Milo, seven, likes to bring home frogs and snakes. They’re both too young to sense anything is off, though at times, they ask you very pertinent questions about the other kids in their class. 
You sigh. You never wanted this life. Against your will, you’ve inherited your mother’s lot. Your siblings need a parent and she’s not willing to be one. So, you’ll just have to ring through eggs and milk for the rest of your life and make sure they aren’t caught in the same bog. 
“Hey,” the sharp greeting draws you back. 
You blink and shake away the daze. You look over at Mr. Marshall. Not again. You do your best to smooth the worry from your forehead and reach for the sole item on the belt. An excuse, you’re sure. 
You can through the breakfast tray of a hardboiled egg, pita, hummus, cheese, and grapes. The beep chirps harshly in your ears as he stares you down over the top of your till. You stifle a yawn as you hover your hand over the buttons. 
“That everything?” You ask dully. 
“You looked worried,” he moves to lean on the other side of debit machine, where his tray awaits him. “Like maybe you’re keeping secrets.” 
You huff, “I told you I haven’t heard from Faye.” 
“I didn’t ask.” 
“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” you snap, “are you going to pay or do you want me to put this back, detective?” 
“I’m off duty,” he tilts his head, “night shift.” 
“Great, so credit or cash?” 
He puffs through his nostrils and squares his jaw, “lot of kids running around your place, huh?” 
“No,” you say curtly, “don’t.” 
“I’m just tryna figure out where my kid is. Pretty crowded at yours so... maybe she’s somewhere else.” 
“Maybe she is,” you utter in exasperation, “but I guess it doesn’t matter how many times I tell you that I don’t know where. You're still going to waste my time. And yours. So, please sir, cash or credit?” 
He scoffs and looks around, the place is still desolate, “you got time.” 
But you don’t have the patience. You barely keep from the retort. You turn and start tidying the till, distracting yourself as you rearrange your sanitizer and check the bin in case it was missed. 
“She’s my daughter. How would you feel if one of your sisters ran off, huh?” 
“You don’t get to talk about my sisters,” you turn back to him, “fine, alright, you want evidence, I’ll give you evidence, sir.” You take out your phone and flick through it in frustration, “the last message she sent me was the night we went out.” You turn the screen to him, “she hasn’t texted, she hasn’t called. Happy? Cause I don’t think she’s interested in being my friend anymore. She’s finally outgrown the poor girl.” 
You can’t help but throw the phone at him as your emotion wells up, “she was only ever friends with me to piss you off. Like I said, I’m not stupid. I just--” you cut yourself off, “I got work to do.” 
You turn back to the screen at your shoulder and brace the cash drawer. You take a slow breath and let it out. You’re embarrassed. He finally did it. He finally got you to crack. You refuse to look at him as he gently places your phone on the counter. 
“Got it,” he says softly, “she isn’t with you.” He clears his throat and shifts, “debit.” 
You grit your teeth, staring at the screen as you hit the button to activate the pin pad, “go ahead.” 
You listen to the beep of each button as he puts in his pin. You wait and the till chimes as the transaction goes through. You rip of the receipt and drop it beside you on the counter without looking. You can hear everything, even the soft noise of him slipping his card back in his wallet. You keep your attention on the monitor. 
“Enjoy your breakfast,” he says. 
Your furrow your nose as you listen to his footsteps and only turn when you hear the automatic door whoosh. You look down at your phone beside the tray of food, the receipt laid neatly over it. You peek up at the doors and your stomach growls. 
His pity is hardly preferable to his spite. 
204 notes · View notes
totheblood · 1 year ago
Text
GLORY & GORE
Tumblr media
CHAPTER ONE: NOW WE'RE IN THE RING
PAIRING: fwb!ellie williams x reader
SUMMARY: a week after you reunite with your estranged best friend, astrid, for the first time in three years, you are heartbroken to discover her sudden and brutal murder. as you dive deep into the world of sagewood university, you uncover astrid's ties to a shadowy society lurking within the institution's walls. in the midst of all of this, you cross paths with ellie, who you met on the very day you saw astrid again. as ellie helps you figure out what happened to your best friend, you're forced to wonder if everything with ellie is truly as it appears, and if trust can genuinely be given to anyone.
WARNINGS: 18+ SLIGHT SMUT mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x
A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3
WORD COUNT: 6.3k
Tumblr media
You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched as you stepped onto Sagewood University’s campus for the first time since Astrid’s death. 
You spent the days following Astrid’s death curled up on your couch, unmoving. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling as you let time pass by slowly, counting the clicks of the clock on your wall each second.
Your mom would check on you every now and then, before she had to leave for work or when she came back home. She would leave a plate of food on the coffee table near you, urging you to eat something, but you had no appetite. It was safe to say that you weren't taking Astrid's death well.
Suddenly, your phone chimed, a ringtone reserved for one person. 
ellie: You okay?
You picked up your phone, reading the message despite the LED lights burning your eyes. It was obvious to anyone that you weren't okay, so you declined to answer. You put your phone back on the table and stared at the same place on the ceiling. It was starting to look like a face, but you were almost sure you were hallucinating. 
The morning they found Astrid’s dead body sprawled out on a table in the library had started like a normal day for you. The sky was still dark when you woke up to your alarm and dragged yourself out of bed. You pulled on the grey hoodie that had been your staple all semester, paired with a red pair of sweatpants you had worn so much they were nearly falling apart. As you walked towards campus, the streets were silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the crunch of gravel beneath your sneakers. But when you reached the library all seemed eerily quiet; the wide glass windows had been frosted with police tape and blocked by large, black police cars. Fear started to sink into your stomach as groups huddled together, their hushed voices filled with whimpers and tears.
“Hey, uh,” you tapped one on the shoulder, “what happened?”
“They found some girl dead,” she replied in a low voice, “Can you believe it?” 
“Do they know who it is?” you asked. Deep in your heart you already knew it was her. 
From the very first day you met Astrid, you knew you had found your person. It was like finding the other piece to a two-piece puzzle. Simple, but rare. In elementary school, she was your personal hero, unafraid to get her hands dirty—or bloody, for that matter—when that kid shoved you during recess. 
Middle school was weird for everyone, but less so for you because you had Astrid. You two invented your own secret language, a series of squiggles and lines that looked like chicken scratch to anyone else. Those notes you passed weren't just ink on paper; they were secret jokes, each scribble another knot in the thread that connected you two.
High school rolled around, and the stakes got higher, the emotions deeper. You realized you liked girls, and the moment you told Astrid, the air between you changed—but not in the way you feared. It was as if she picked up the weight of the situation and took it on as her own, lightening your load just by being there, just by listening. She didn't offer grand gestures or theatrical declarations of support; she didn't need to. Instead, she guided you, step-by-step, through the maze of coming out, as if it was the most natural path you could walk together.
And maybe it was. Because when you look back on everything, every scraped knee and every coded note, every whispered secret and every shared challenge, it all led back to a simple, undeniable truth: life was messy and confusing and downright hard sometimes—but less so with Astrid by your side.
College was supposed to be a fresh chapter, a new horizon where you and Astrid could explore the world as adults. But instead, it turned into a ripping of a page you never saw coming. Within the first week, something broke. Conversations turned into awkward exchanges, laughter gave way to silence, and the natural ease you'd always felt around her failed to exist. You guys just stopped clicking and after a big argument, you stopped hanging out altogether. She became someone you used to know, a piece of your past.
Time went by, and you got used to life without Astrid. Then, out of the blue, you got a text from her last week. She said she wanted to meet up.
She asked to meet at the campus coffee shop, Brain Brew, on a Tuesday morning. It was practically empty in there when you arrived, something that it almost never was. You came early, thinking you would need to find a seat, but now looking at all the empty chairs was less of a concern. 
Behind the bar stood a girl, with short auburn hair and freckles littered across her face, on her phone. When you approached, she straightened up, looking surprised to see you. You read the name on her nametag: Ellie. 
“Uh,” she looked you up and down briefly, “what can I get for you?” 
“What's good?” you asked, eyes scanning the expansive menu ranging from lavender latte's to plain black coffee. 
“Anything I make is good,” she shrugged, eyes still waiting for a response. 
“Then, just an iced vanilla latte,” you ordered, tapping your fingers on the counter. She tapped your order into the tablet in front of her and then stopped for a minute, looking you over again. 
“You go to Sagewood?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“Yea,” your brows knit together, as you shifted uncomfortably in your place, “Why?”
“I just feel like I’ve seen you before,” she commented, the price of your latte lighting up on the screen in front of you, “6.74.”
Jesus fuck, you thought, this is why I don't come here. 
“It’s a big campus, you’ve probably just seen me around or something,” you tapped your card, looking back up at her, scanning her face to see if you remembered her from anywhere. Then it clicked, “Did you go to Weston Middle School?”
“Shit,” she breathed, shaking her head and laughing, “yea, for a year.”
“I remember you,” you laughed, a smile spread across your face, “you used to eat lunch alone every day and when I tried to sit next to you you told me to ‘Fuck off’.”
You saw her physically wince as she pulled your receipt out of the dispenser, “Fuck,” she shook her head again, closing her eyes painfully, “I’m sorry, that was not a good year for me.”
“I don't think 11 is a good year for anyone,” you joked back, taking your receipt from her, “It’s all good, don't worry about it.” 
She let out a little laugh, her cheeks growing a tinge darker as she scratched the back of her neck, “I’ll get that drink started for you,” she moved towards the espresso machine before stopping and turning back towards you, “Wait, can I get your name?” She paused for a moment, examining the expression on your face, “For the order.”
Smiling, you gave her your name, and stood at the end of the counter, waiting for your drink. Astrid was now five minutes late, and you just realized she may be standing you up. 
“Do you go to Sagewood?” you asked Ellie from across the espresso machine. She looked up at you over the machine, waiting for the espresso to brew. 
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “for psych.”
“Oh, you want to be a therapist?” you leaned your hands on the counter looking around the empty room. 
“Something like that,” she breathed out a laugh, eyes flicking up to you for a moment, “What are you doing?”
“Journalism,” you smiled, watching as she made your drink, “Do you think I could get your number?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could think. You watched as the smile from her face fell, the blood that was in her cheeks being replaced with pale skin.
“Oh, uh” she fumbled over her words almost dropping the cup of milk she was holding, “I don’t really date, it not my-”
“Oh, not like that,” you cut her off, trying to save yourself the embarrassment, “Just like as friends, I don’t really have that many around campus.” 
“Oh,” she breathed out a laugh, relief flooding her features, “Yeah, sure then. I’d love to be friends.”
When she handed you her drink she handed you her phone with the contacts app already open. You took your coffee and the phone, smiling slightly as you put your name and number in. 
“Here,” you giggled, “sorry if that was weird. I wasn’t like coming on to you or anything. I mean not that you aren’t attractive cause you are- But it’s also not like I’m not into girls, cause I am. Jesus fuck,” you whispered under your breath, “It’s just that I also... Don’t date,” you lied. 
You watched the permanent smirk on her face as you rambled off and she took her phone back and let out another breathy laugh. 
“Well, it’s not that you aren’t attractive either,” she rubbed the back of her neck, watching intently as you sipped your drink, “so if you wanted to like, I don’t know, hook up sometime, I would be down for that.” 
You practically choked on your latte when she said that, eyes wide as you tried to cover up your spluttering with a cough, “Um, yeah. That sounds cool, or whatever.” 
“Cool,” she pursed her lips, nodding before turning back to wipe the counter down, “I’ll text you.”
As if it was fate the bell rang behind you, signaling Astrid’s entrance. You turned to look at her and give her a once over. She looked a lot more frazzled since you last saw her, her blond hair was still as long and came past her shoulders, but it was frizzier as if she had just woken up. The circles under her eyes were more prominent, and when you smiled at her, she didn’t smile back. You didn’t want to approach her first, so you just waited until she came up to you and gave you a hint of a smile. 
“Should we sit?” She asked, her voice much raspier now as she looked around to the empty cafe, the tension in her body easing up.
“Sure,” you followed her lead as she led you to the back, away from any windows and farther away from the bar. You looked over to where Ellie was still working, wondering how loud you would need to shout for her to hear you. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you started, noticing her slightly anxious state as she took shallow breaths, “I mean, I missed you.”
“This isn’t about us,” her voice was cold when she spoke, the words hurting you more than you thought it would, “I just think you are the only person I can trust.”
“Okay,” you took a sip of your latte, nursing it in your hands, “do you need to tell me something?”
“No,” she took a deep breath, “Just that if something happens to me, it will have to be you to figure out who does it.” 
“Jesus,” you breathed out, leaning in to whisper back, “What the fuck have you gotten into, A?” 
She winced at the sound of her nickname, looking down at the table before looking around again at the still-empty cafe, “I should be fine,” she sighed, “but if I’m not, you will know what to do.”
“How the fuck would I know what to do?” you spoke a little louder, throwing your hands up dramatically as you leaned back, “I mean this is ridiculous, you completely blow me off freshman year and now you’re telling me I have to worry about someone who doesn’t even want to be my friend anymore?”
“You’re being melodramatic,” she blinked a few times, before sitting up straight, “I didn’t come here to fight you.” 
“No, you just came to make sure I’d be there whenever you got yourself into trouble,” your voice was harsh as you stood up from your seat abruptly, ready to leave. 
“Please, sit down,” she urged, looking up at you with her big round eyes.
“No, thanks,” you replied sarcastically, giving her a fake smile, “Go fuck yourself.”
Go fuck yourself. 
That was the last thing you ever told Astrid before she was murdered. 
The guilt followed you all the way back home that night in stunned silence. You were too shocked to even tell your professor you weren’t coming to class that day, missing a midterm. You knew you would make it up eventually, but now, all you could do was sit and stare and hope to wake up from whatever nightmare you were living. 
To make matters worse, as you sat on your bed, still dressed in your clothes from earlier a note was slipped under your door. A thick cream cardstock, with embossed trimmings covered in gold, and written delicately on the front in script, “Keep your mouth shut, or you’re next.”
At the time, you immediately threw it out, not thinking much of it. Your brain was stuffed with things you didn’t want to think about, flashes of your childhood coming back in brief intervals. The vision of the two of you at the carnival, faces stuffed with cotton candy, giggling as you boarded the Ferris Wheel for the first time on your own came back first. You remember going around with her three times until the sun went down and the houses began to look like stars in the sky. Lit up and far away.
Another memory flashed, her crying in your lap in the 8th grade. Jason Charnley rejected her when she asked him if they could go to the dance together. Innocently, you offered to go with her as you stroked her hair, the cries dying out as you cracked joke after joke. By the time she was supposed to go home, she had forgotten what she was even upset about. 
Then a memory of senior year when she showed up on your front step, a giant envelope addressed to her with a giant “Sagewood” on the front. She knew she was accepted from the moment she applied, but the confirmation was validation enough. What really surprised her was your admission, meaning you’d follow after her to college as you usually did.
Then a memory flashed from a week ago, an unknown number lit up your screen the night you met Astrid in the cafe. 
ellie: Hey, this is Ellie.
ellie: From Brain Brew.
you: wrong number
you: but what are you wearing, ellie?
ellie: Nvm.
you: stooooop come back
you: i was being annoying, i apologize
you: what are you doing rn?
ellie: Come find out. 
That’s how you found yourself pressed up against Ellie’s door, her knee wedged in between your legs, a small whimper falling from your lips that were wrapped up in Ellie’s. Ellie's lips were soft and full, her touch gentle, calloused hands gripping your clothed waist. You could feel her heart pounding in time with your own, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
Your hands, no longer under your own control, moved around her waist to pull her closer still, while her hands roamed over your back, exploring, caressing. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt her hands roam up your body
The kiss deepened as you explored each other’s mouths with your tongues. Her lips were insistent, demanding as if she couldn't get enough of you. You were overwhelmed by the taste of her, a mix of mint and coffee. She slipped her hands under your shirt, her hands traveling up your back, causing goosebumps to rise exclusively where she touched. Her hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it, her mouth never leaving yours as you moaned into her mouth. Ellie’s hands, still under your shirt, moved to cup your tits in her hand, pushing you back against the door as she did so. 
She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed and sloppy kisses on your skin. Her teeth nipped at the skin on your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her hands began teasing your nipples with gentle squeezes and flicks. She was relishing in every sound you made, every way you squirmed underneath her touch. She could feel herself getting wet from the small sounds alone. Then you moaned out loud as Ellie's lips found their way to your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as hers, and she was gone completely.
Her hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, over the curve of your hips, until they reached the waistband of your pants. Before you knew it, her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, two fingers circling your clit as she worked you.
“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, “this is for me?” The sound of her fingers and your cunt made an obscene noise, her fingers now completely coated in you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons of Ellie's shirt, desperate to feel her skin against yours. You popped them off one by one, fingers faltering as she touched you, revealing her toned stomach, and you couldn't help but run your hands at the place right above her worn-out jeans, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your touch.
Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching her face for any regret, any idea that you wanted to back out now. "You want this?" she whispered, her voice low and rough. You nodded, unable to form words as your body leaned into her.
----
That’s all you remembered that night, slipping out sometime before Ellie woke up. You assumed that since this was “strictly a hookup” she wouldn’t want to see you there in the morning. She did vaguely reference you sleeping over, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 
So before the sun came up, you slipped from Ellie’s grip, slipping on the clothes you came in and doing the infamous walk of shame back to your dorm. This wasn’t a relationship, and the proactive version of yourself had to be reminded of that many times that week.
You began to think that if you maybe hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in Ellie the week after meeting with Astrid, you would have noticed something. Maybe even have been able to prevent her death. A part of you wanted to resent Ellie for that, but you knew at the end of the day you were trying to put the blame on anyone but yourself.
She reached out for help, but you denied her. 
The best friend you swore to protect, who swore to protect you was now dead, and you could have prevented it. Wallowing in it wasn’t helping much, but provided some emotion to feel other than numb. So back in your childhood home, your fingers lingered over Ellie’s contact, wondering if you should text her back. You didn’t have a plan to return back to school yet and you didn’t want to give her false hope.
Maybe she could fuck the grief out of you, or wrap her to-
you: as good as i can be
ellie: This sucks.
you: truer words have never been spoken
ellie: But hey, I need to talk to you. Do you know when you’ll be back on campus?
ellie: I’m not trying to like fuck you or anything cause that would be fucked up.
ellie: Ignore that last message. I’m just realizing now how weird that was. I'm sorry.
ellie: Anyways, I just need to talk to you about something, it’s serious. Don’t wanna text it to you.
you: i should be back soon, i don't know yet. 
ellie: Well, when you do come back, let me know.  
You stared at your phone, your fingers ghosting over Ellie’s message before deciding to reply with a thumbs up. Pathetic, but it was all you could muster as you finally sat up and ate the food your mom left for you. It was about time to return to your life, falling behind not being an option anymore.
You worked too hard to get into Sagewood in the first place to stop now, a year before you were set to graduate. Sagewood was on par with the Ivy League schools, bearing an acceptance rate of 9% and accepting students internationally. There were about a thousand on-campus clubs, sororities, and study groups. There were even rumored secret societies, but you were never one to believe in that sort of thing. People who graduated with a degree from Sagewood were set for life. There was no room to screw up three years of good grades okay grades. 
So that’s how you found yourself back on campus, tightly gripping the straps of your bag. As if snapped back into reality, the memories of that night flooded back. You just began to remember the note you threw away that threatened your life, as you made your way to your morning class, an unsettling feeling setting in your stomach. It almost felt as if you were being watched. 
As you sat in class, you shuffled in your seat as the kid a few rows in front of you turned to look at you. When he noticed you staring back he turned around quickly. The whole class you had your eyes trained on the back of his head, watching as he would occasionally look at you, notice you looking, and turn back around. You knew you were being paranoid when you first walked onto campus, but now you felt validated.
As the teacher dismissed the class, the kid who kept staring at you collected his things and attempted to leave the room quickly, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You rushed to meet him at the door and stood in front of him, a bitter look on your face. 
“You’ve got a staring problem,” you commented accusingly, hands folding across your chest.
“You’re just really,” he coughed, looking around as other people pushed past you to the exit, the professor included, “pretty. You’re pretty, that’s why I was staring.”
“I know I am,” you turned to shut the door behind the last person exiting the room, “but do you really think I’m that stupid? What gives?”
“I’m late for my clas-” he began to stumble out before you took another menacing step towards him. 
“You won’t make it there if you don’t tell me why the fuck you were staring at me,” you pointed a finger right in the center of his chest, making him gulp loudly. 
“It’s just,” he takes another step back, “you were friends with the dead girl.”
“The dead girl?” you spat back at him, your tone laced with venom, “Her name was Astrid, you dick.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He breathed out, “I’m just a true crime junkie, I’m intrigued about her case.”
“Her case?” you questioned him, taking a step back to make him feel more comfortable. To make him open up to you. 
“Just that they have no leads yet,” he scoffed, “which is weird if you ask me. No suspects yet she’s killed in a very public place?”
“That happens all the time,” you retorted, hands still crossed protectively across your chest.
“It’s not as common as you think,” he shrugged, “they haven’t questioned you yet?”
Now that he brought it up, the whole situation was weird. If they were trying hard to find out what happened to her, why weren’t you called in for questioning? It wasn’t like you had done it, but you did have a motive, and you had just come into contact with her again, shortly before her murder. If there was any person to question, it would be you, but yet here you were, untouched.
“No, they haven’t,” you mumbled back, your mind moving a million miles per minute. 
“See,” he smirked, “weird.”
“Wipe that stupid ass smile off your face,” you spat back, “she’s still dead, and just because you ‘like true crime’ doesn’t give you a right to talk about her. It’s not like you’re going to solve her murder.”
“I just might,” he stated simply.
“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, turning towards the door to leave now.
“Did you know she was part of a secret society?” he questioned, making you still for a moment.
You turned back around to face him, eyes squinted again, arms crossed firmly over your chest, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head, something sinister in the way he hung his head, “I do my research and I do it well.”
“You sound like a nutcase,” you spat again, trying to stop the anger from bubbling inside of you. It felt weird to talk about Astrid as if she was a mystery. In all the people in the world, you knew her the best. You knew each and every corner of her life, even when you weren’t speaking. But now, as you stood here, you weren’t sure you ever knew her at all. 
“They are called Oculus Noctis,” he shrugged again, standing up taller as if he had just won this fight, or whatever this was, “look them up, then come find me,” he walked closer to you now, making you want to cower away, but you didn’t. You planted your feet down, straightening your posture. Although he looked more confident now, you could tell he was still intimidated by you, “my name’s Corbin Nott. I run a podcast, look me up too.”
Smiling, he brushed past you leaving you standing alone in the room. You let out what felt like a deep breath you were holding for a while, your breath coming out shallow and shaky.  Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest, and come out of your ears and nose as you bled out on the floor, but you just stayed unmoving taking deep breaths as you placed a hand over your chest to steady yourself. 
Your hands began to shake a little, trembling as you moved to sit down at one of the desks, a failed attempt at calming yourself. The breaths came quicker as it started to feel like you couldn’t breathe, like your heart was pumping blood into your lungs and you were drowning. Your vision blurred as you stared at the desk, which was now full of wet droplets. Were you crying? You lifted a shaky hand to wipe at your cheeks, and as you expected you felt your damp skin covered in tears. 
You were trying hard to collect yourself now, knowing that students from the next class would probably start flooding in and you wouldn’t be able to move. You would just sit at a front desk crying as whatever poor professor tried to teach. C’mon get it together, get it fucking together, you thought. What was it they said to do? 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, and the other three got lost on you. 
You looked around, and through teary eyes you could see a clock on the wall, ticking slower than usual. You could see the whiteboard in front of you, smugged with black dry-erase markers, and you could see the dark hardwood floors, clean and polished. You watched your hands and your tears on the desk and suddenly your breathing started to feel normal.
Thank god you did because by the time you were wiping your last tear from your eyes, the door to the classroom was swinging open and a student was walking in. You kept your head down, so they wouldn’t see your teary eyes and red nose, but that also stopped you from seeing them. So when the person called your name out, you had to look up, only to see…
“Ellie,” you mumbled, watching the smile on her face drop as her eyes scanned your face. Gripping her backpack straps she walked closer to you slowly, crouching down in front of the desk you were sitting at. Her green eyes darted from your eyes to your nose, to your lips, and to the desk, clearly wet.
“Hey,” she whispered, “are you okay?” She reluctantly reached a hand out to wipe at your face, unsure if you were okay with being touched or if you even liked to be comforted. She wiped a tear away from your cheek, her calloused thumb rubbing your cheek gently, “What happened?”
“I-I’m fine,” you stuttered out, closing your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, “Still upset I guess,” you let out a shaky laugh, hoping to see a small smile on Ellie’s face as you opened your eye, but she just looked worried. Her brow wrinkled a bit, and it looked as if she was still searching for something in your eyes, but was coming up empty. She cleared her throat before looking away, retracting her hand from her face. 
“You’re not fine.” She grumbled back, standing up now, causing you to look up at her, “You shouldn’t be back here so soon.”
“What?” you joked, “Not excited to see me?”
She rolled her eyes playfully, a small blush tinted on her face as she nudged your shoulder lightly, “Not excited at all,” she commented sarcastically, making you crack a bigger smile, “c’mon let’s get out of here,” she motioned her head to the door, making you stand up shakily and stand in front of her. 
“Don’t you have class?” you asked, your own expression laced with worry. You watched as her face softened slightly at this, pursing her lips and looking you up and down. 
“I can skip it,” she shrugged, “plus, I wanted to talk to you.” 
You let out a small laugh, “God, you sound obsessed with me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed you, walking towards the door, pulling it open, and holding it for you, “C’mon, let’s go.”
Giving her a small smile you walked out with her, your hands placed firmly in your pockets. You stepped out onto the main grass of Sagewood, where people were sitting, laughing, as their lives moved on. The smell of the grass was strong, as you walked down the cobbled path, Ellie looking at you quickly before taking a deep breath. 
“So, I went by your room the day after your friend-” she started, 
“Astrid,” you practically whispered back.
‘Astrid,” she paused, “After she died,” she cleared her throat, “I’m so sorry by the way.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to say that.”
“Sorry,” she cleared her throat, “Anyways, I went there the day after and you weren’t there, but there was this book on your desk.”
“What?” you stopped in your tracks looking at her, “There was no book on my desk when I got back.” 
“I know,” she sighed, looking around, “I took it,” she watched as your eyes widened and you took a step back.
“Why the fuck would you take something off my desk?” you questioned, anger written all over your face. Ellie shifted uncomfortably, chewing on her bottom lip as you questioned her.
“Because it was Astrid’s, and I thought,” her voice died out, and your wide eyes just pressed her on, your arms once again folding over your chest.  
“You thought what?” 
“I thought that it was evidence,” she breathed out, “I thought that if they found that in your room it would be pinned on you.”
“You think I killed her?” your voice was loud now, making people around you stop and stare. Ellie looked around uncomfortably, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath. 
“Of course not!” she whisper yelled back, “You were at mine the night she was murdered, but if they found that in your room, it would have been on you.”
“So, you stole it,’ you deadpanned, eyebrows raised and accusing, “Why do you even care if I go down for it? You barely know me.”
“Because believe it or not, you are one of my only friends,” she looked away, her arms crossing over her chest as if to protect herself, “Like ever. So forgive me if I didn’t want you to be framed for murder.”
Your expression softened, arms falling to your sides as you looked up at her and then back at the ground, “I appreciate that.” 
“You can have it back, obviously,” she mumbled, eyes trained on her own shoes as her arms uncrossed and her fingers began to play with each other, “I just… didn’t want you to get in trouble. It’s all gibberish anyways, just a bunch of words that don't make sense.”
That made your heart stop, as you blinked up at her. “What did you just say?” She looked up at you, shrugging as she rolled her eyes.
“The journal, it’s like just a bunch of random words, I tried to find out what language it was but I came up short,” she was still playing with her fingers, obviously nervous as she picked at her nails, “But, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. It was a weird thing to do.”
“I still want to be your friend, Ellie,” you sighed, “I just need to see this journal, like now,” you watched as a small smile flashed across her face and he shoulders seemed to lose all their tension.
“Yeah, we could head over to my dorm right now,” she began walking, turning her head back to make sure you were following her, “I’m sorry agai-”
“Ellie, if you apologize again I’ll jump you,” you teased, smiling up at her as you walked side by side.
“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” she teased back, voice low as she let out a small laugh.
-
As you walked into Ellie’s dorm, you instantly became nervous again, your guilt creeping up the back of your neck. The night Astrid was killed, you were in bed with Ellie, laughing as she traced circles into your inner thigh. She talked about how much she hated her professors, working and Brain Brew, and how weird everyone on campus was. Well, everyone except for you. 
That night you stayed up and watched 30 Rock on Hulu until Ellie fell asleep, Ellie’s laughter gradually fading into soft snores. Her head found a resting spot on your shoulder, her rhythmic breaths warming your neck. You slipped out quietly, walking back to your dorm with a shit-eating grin on your face, and fell asleep unassuming. 
Your fingers traced the outline of Ellie’s desk, as you eyed Astrid’s journal that was sat in the center of it. It was covered in green felt, her name embossed on the front of it in gold letters. You pulled out the chair in front of the desk, sitting at it to begin reading the book. You paused for a moment, wondering if you even wanted to open it. Flipping open the front page, there was the language you created in middle school on every page. Pages and pages, the book was filled. When Astrid said it would be up to you to solve her murder, she meant it literally. 
On the front page was printed “Fepi Quslo Vurte Dabru” which translates to “My Oculus Noctis Journey.”
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, finger brushing over the letters on the page, feeling the imprint the pen made on the paper. 
“What?” Ellie stepped forward, looking over your shoulder at the book, “You know what this says?”
You sighed deeply, eyes trained on the words, “Yeah,” you turned to look up at her, “I do.”
“How?” her tone was more curious than shocked, sitting on her bed as she watched you. 
“It’s a language we created in middle school,” you closed the book, stuffing it in your bag as you turned to stare at Ellie. You watched as she looked at you in amazement, eyes wide and mouth hung open. 
“You created a fucking language?” she asked, laughing a little, “Jesus, you Sagewood students are crazy.”
“Ellie, you also go here,” you laughed, leaning your elbow on the desk, “Plus, Astrid mostly created it. She was smart like that.”
Ellie looked at you again, a small smile playing on her face, “You’re smart too, you know.”
“Not as smart as she was,” your smile turned to a sad one as you looked at your knees, not wanting to cry again.
“Hey,” Ellie said, voice low as she tried to get your attention. When you looked up, she smiled at you, eyes soft, “You're really fucking smart, just remember that.”
You gave her a forced smile, looking back down at your feet, “Thank you,” your voice came out cracked, “I needed that.”
“What did the first page say?” 
“My Oculus Noctis Journey,” you replied, shrugging. 
“Oh shit,” she laughed, “she was involved with those freaks?”
You sat up straight at this, scanning her face, “You know about them?” 
“Sadly,” she replied nonchalantly, “I don't know much about them except that they exist. They tried to recruit me, but I don't think they know that I know that it was them.”
“What? What do you mean?” you asked eagerly, words coming out quickly. 
“They recruit people on campus but they make it seem like they are just regular clubs,” she recounted, “Like they had a ‘coding club’ and at the club fair they had this code that they asked people to encrypt, it was extremely hard too. I did it and they sent me this weird email, asking me to do more shit. I just kind of didn't respond but traced the email to their own web service.”
“I thought that the secret society stuff was just like rumors.”
“Nope,” she popped her lips on the ‘p’, “Real shit. I just don't know what they exist for or anything.”
“I think I may have to figure that out.”
463 notes · View notes
mortiskiller · 4 months ago
Text
How I Manage Food Costs as a Feedist
Preface: I often see people in this community post about struggling with food insecurity and managing food costs. These are just some tips that have helped me when I was down to the last few dollars and needed to eat for a few weeks. I understand circumstances are different for everyone, and some people struggle even with this level of food security, I have been there. My intention is to help.
With food prices still high—often due to profit gouging—I’ve found ways to manage my food budget, and the secret is simple: **eat at home!** Growing up in extreme poverty with two working parents, eating at home was pretty much our only option, aside from takeout once every few months. My parents taught me the value of home cooking, and while it takes time to develop essential skills, Making sauces, learning how to prep and clean ingredients, cooking veggies, preparing meats, etc., once you have them, there’s a whole world of recipes within reach.
Here’s how I manage food costs, and how you can too:
1. Weekly/Monthly Shopping Essentials
Start with the basics—items you’ll need to shop for regularly to cover your meals for a week or two. Building a pantry depends on the storage space you have, but here are some key ingredients to keep on hand:
- Milk (1 to 2 gallons, depending on your choice—I go with 1%)
- Eggs (18 count)
- Bread (1 loaf) (I also recommend tortillas as they last longer than bread and can be used for nearly any bread needs)
- Rolls or Croissants (If you shop at a bulk store, you can get a dozen for $6.)
- Fruits: Change with the season, but apples, oranges, and grapes are solid year-round choices. In the summer, throw in some berries and stone fruit.
- Veggies for Prep: Stick to simple, versatile veggies like green bell peppers, zucchini, onions, potatoes, and chilies.
- Butter: Unsalted sweet cream butter is my favorite! Go for sticks instead of tubs for a better per-unit cost.
- Leafy Greens: A bag of spinach or romaine hearts
- Cheese: Shredded cheese works best and if you want to save more, buy a block and slice or shred it yourself.
These staples give you a variety of flavors, textures, and nutrition to build meals around, whether you’re whipping up sides, salads, or more complex dishes.
2. Protein, Protein, Protein!
Protein is an essential part of a healthy diet, but you don’t need to overdo it or overspend. I’ve found that chicken and tofu are some of the most affordable and versatile protein sources available (unless you’re hunting your own!). Both freeze well and can be used in a variety of recipes with different seasonings and marinades.
You can also look at beef, but stick to lean beef and fish as you do not want to pay for fat that will not end up in your food.
3. Shelf-Stable Items to Buy in Bulk
Buying in bulk can be a game changer, especially if you stock up on shelf-stable items. If you’re short on storage space, invest in an airtight tote to keep things organized. Start with common essentials like:
- Flour (Good ole AP with cover you most of the time)
- Sugar
- Baking Powder
- Baking Soda
- Brown Sugar
- Cooking Oil (I go for olive oil and canola oil)
These staples are the foundation of countless recipes and, when stored properly, can last for months or even a year.
4. Season Early, Season Often
Spices are what make food magical! You don’t need fancy brands—stick with basics that offer single-ingredient profiles. My go-to spices are:
- Salt
- Pepper
- Garlic Powder
- Onion Powder
- Thyme
- Oregano
- Paprika
- Cumin
- Cinnamon
- Chili Powder
- Vanilla Extract
- Bouillon Cubes
- Red Pepper Flakes
These spices will give you all the flavor you need to create a variety of meals without breaking the bank.
5. Canned Goods: The Unsung Hero
Canned goods are a staple in my kitchen. They offer consistent quality, low prices, and a long shelf life. Plus, they’re great for backup when fresh ingredients are low. Some key canned items to keep on hand are:
- Pinto Beans
- Crushed Tomatoes
- Tomato Paste
- Tomato Sauce
- Boiled White Potatoes
- Herring or Sardines
- Tuna
- Fruit Cocktail
- Peaches
- Pears
- Broth or Stock
These ingredients can help you create filling and versatile meals on a budget.
6. Where You Shop Matters
The store you shop at can make a huge difference in food prices. Here’s how to stretch your budget even further:
Bulk Stores: Invest in a membership at places like Sam’s Club, Costco, or BJ’s. The $100 yearly fee is usually paid for in savings after just a few trips. Protein, especially beef and fish, is almost always cheaper in bulk stores.
Walmart and Aldi: These stores are great for extras like frozen veggies, fresh produce, dairy items, and baked goods. Their prices are hard to beat!
Hope this helps and feel free to reblog or comment with your own tips and tricks!
Stick to Your List: One of the easiest ways to overspend and waste food is by shopping without a plan. Make a list, and stick to it. This will help keep your budget in check and prevent unnecessary purchases.
By following these steps, you can keep your food costs down while still eating healthy and delicious meals. The key is planning ahead, shopping smart, and keeping a well-stocked pantry!
109 notes · View notes
allthecanadianpolitics · 8 months ago
Text
The federal New Democrats say they want a price cap on grocery store staples if the Liberal government can't convince grocers to bring down the prices themselves. Some countries in Europe have implemented similar measures, and while it's something Industry Minister Francois-Philippe Champagne said he has looked into, he doesn't think it's a good idea. "You have commodities which are traded on a global scale. So think about sugar, think about wheat. How can you have a price in one particular region?" he said Tuesday. "But I think the better way to do that is keep putting pressure on the grocers, on the large manufacturers around the world, and bringing more competition." [...] Some food costs have recently eased due to a decline in inflation, but New Democrats say prices have not dropped nearly as much as they have risen in the past three years. They accuse grocers of being greedy. "We're talking about an essential basket of goods that should be affordable for Canadians, and we want to force grocery stores to do that, otherwise we will impose a price cap," NDP Leader Jagmeet Singh proposed on Tuesday.
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @newsfromstolenland
200 notes · View notes
whump-about-it · 1 year ago
Text
Constant Pain
@febuwhump Day 5: Rope Burns.
CW: angst, description of injuries, dissociation.
"Whumpee, those are never going to heal if you don't stop touching them."
Whumpee startled out of their mindless stupor to find Caretaker leaning on the door frame watching them with an expression of concern. Their eyes were flickering between Whumpee's sallow face and their hands, which they had in their lap, each picking absently at the scabbed rope burns on the opposite wrists.
"Sorry," Whumpee murmured and moved their hands to either side of their legs. This wasn't the first time Caretaker had caught them picking at the scabs, or the first time they had cautioned them about re-opening the wounds. "They just..."
Whumpee let their voice trail off. They couldn't tell Caretaker the rope burns still hurt. They couldn't explain why they hurt so much. Whumpee had so many other injuries that reasonably should have bothered them more. They couldn't put weight on one of their legs. There was a six inch gash in the back of their head that had required being stapled. Their were bruises around their neck had made breathing so uncomfortable that they had developed a chest infection by the time they were rescued. The welts on their back hadn't healed yet, and they couldn't move to much for fear of ripping the multitude of stitches all over their body. Yet, despite all of that, the rope burns, the most innocuous of their injuries, hurt the most.
Actually, that all made sense to Whumpee. When they had been rescued, Caretaker had told them Whumper had held them for a little over month. But it had felt like a year. Every day had been different. New pain. New torture. New fear. Nothing had remained the same day to day. Nothing Whumpee could look forward to or dreed. Not even food or water. In that whole time the only constant had been the rope. Their hands had been tied the whole time.
The rope burns had been Whumpee's first injuries. Their oldest and deepest. And the ones that they had cried over the most, hopelessly trying to wriggle their way out of their bonds and watching blood trickle into their useless hands. Of course those wounds hurt the most. But how were they supposed to say that? How were they supposed to explain in?
Whumpee nearly jumped out of their skin when Caretaker brushed their uninjured knee. They were now kneeling in front of Whumpee, looking even more concerned than they had before. Whumpee hadn't noticed they were dissociating again.
"Is everything okay?" Caretaker asked gently.
"Yes." Whumpee lied. "They itch. My wrists. They itch and I keep forgetting not to touch them."
"I know."
They both knew Caretaker was lying too.
230 notes · View notes
alexanderwales · 2 months ago
Text
When my wife and I took our trip to South Korea, one of my goals was to try a lot of foods. I had a whole long list, compiled as I'd watched some Korean documentaries and food shows, and I managed to eat almost all of them.
Then, when we came home, I set to work recreating as much as I could, trying to get the flavors how I remembered them, working from a Korean cookbook, and making substitutions where I had to, mostly due to a lack of specific fruits and vegetables. Perilla leaves are virtually impossible to find where I live, and you can get daikon radishes but not Korean radishes, and I would prefer to make things "correctly" before I start doing Americanized versions.
And tonight, two years later, I've finally gotten around to making my second-to-last dish on the list, jajangmyeon (자장면), a relatively simple sauce-and-noodle dish.
Tumblr media
It's pork, veggies, and black bean paste that's black as tar. It's amazing, lots of salt and umami, not too tough to make, and I think my recreation is probably as close as I can be expected to get. I do wish it had been more black though, and I didn't have cucumber to garnish, plus the noodles I used weren't quite right, but such is life in the kitchen.
I have two cultural notes about this dish.
First, the spelling is either jjajangmyeon (짜장면) or jajangmyeon (자장면), and this is apparently somewhat contentious. This is actually a Korean Chinese dish that was originally brought over by Chinese immigrants, and has only really been around for something like seventy-five years, having been popularized after the Korean War. Wikipedia lists the difference in IPA as "[tɕa.dʑaŋ.mjʌn]" vs "[t͈ɕa.dʑaŋ.mjʌn]" and for the life of me I cannot tell what's even theoretically supposed to be the difference between the two. Maangchi actually has a video where she writes it both ways and says "see? same!" so whatever. It's the kind of thing that drove me a little nuts, because I wasn't sure which spelling was correct, but it turns out that this is just one of those transliteration issues where both are kind of right and if the letters are supposed to represent sounds, they're nearly indistinguishable.
Second, South Korea has Valentine's Day on February 14th, when women are supposed to give men gifts like chocolate or otherwise profess interest, then has White Day on March 14th, when men are supposed to "pay back" the women for Valentine's Day. But in South Korea they also celebrate Black Day, which is April 14th, and if you didn't get a gift on either of the two previous holidays, you dress up in black and commiserate with the other single people while eating some black food. The staple food is jajangmyeon, which is as black a main dish as you can get without adding squid ink or activated charcoal.
55 notes · View notes
realityjoey · 3 months ago
Text
ADORABLE (RILEY ANDERSON MC x EVAN BUCKLEY)
Tumblr media
The firehouse was always a place of chaos, camaraderie, and the occasional dose of high-stakes adrenaline. But recently, amidst all the calls and the banter, one thing had become a staple of the 118 — the collective obsession with Buck and Riley’s relationship. It wasn’t just that they were adorable together; it was the way they made their love so unmistakable and genuine, even when they didn’t realize it.
Everyone had noticed from the very beginning. When Riley Anderson joined the 118 a little over a year ago, her thick Northern English accent had piqued the team’s curiosity. She was tough, skilled, and quick-witted, never shying away from banter or hard work. But it didn’t take long for Buck, always the flirt, to be drawn to her in a way that was different from how he interacted with anyone else.
At first, it was small things—Buck poking fun at her Britishness, making quips about tea and crumpets, all while his lingering looks said more than his words. And while Riley played it cool, everyone could see the way her eyes softened just a touch when Buck was near. It became a running joke at the station that they were the worst-kept secret, even when they tried to hide their affection behind sarcastic remarks and quick glances.
Now, three years into their relationship and living together, their bond had only grown stronger. The team was utterly obsessed, unable to get enough of how Buck and Riley made even the most mundane moments cute. They didn’t do it on purpose; they weren’t the kind of couple who flaunted their affection, but that somehow made it all the more irresistible to watch.
One particular day, the 118 had just returned from a call, still buzzing with adrenaline. Riley, as usual, was the first to head for the showers, her hair matted from sweat and grime. Buck, trailing behind her, grabbed her hand briefly, squeezing it just once before letting go, and it was like a signal to the rest of the team.
“Did you see that?” Eddie grinned, nudging Hen. “It’s like they can’t go two seconds without touching.”
Hen smirked, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “I give it five minutes before Buck’s looking for another excuse to ‘accidentally’ bump into her.”
Sure enough, as soon as Riley was out of the showers and back in her locker room gear, Buck appeared by her side, offering her a bottle of water as if she couldn’t have gotten it herself.
“You hydrated?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying tone of concern.
Riley rolled her eyes playfully but took the bottle anyway. “I think I can handle getting my own water, Buck.”
“Yeah, but I do it better,” he shot back with a wink, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her temple.
From across the room, Bobby watched with a fond smile. He didn’t say much about their relationship, but everyone knew the captain had a soft spot for the pair. He had taken on a mentor role for both Riley and Buck, and seeing them together, thriving in both their relationship and careers, filled him with a quiet sense of pride.
Later that day, when the group gathered in the lounge for lunch, Chimney couldn’t help himself. He leaned over the table, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Okay, I have to know,” he said, staring pointedly at Buck. “Do you guys ever fight, or is it just constant cute moments and puppy dog eyes?”
Riley, who had been mid-bite, nearly choked on her food as Buck laughed. “Oh, we fight. She’s got a mean left hook,” Buck teased, but his hand found its way to the small of Riley’s back as if to soften the joke.
Riley raised an eyebrow, playing along. “And you’ve got a face that’s too easy to aim for.”
The entire table burst into laughter, but there was something unspoken beneath their words—something so solid and trusting that even when they joked about arguments, it was clear how deeply they cared for one another.
Athena, who had been quietly observing from her seat, chimed in. “You know, I’ve seen plenty of couples in this line of work. It’s not easy. But you two? You make it look effortless.”
Buck and Riley exchanged a glance, both of them a little embarrassed by the praise but grateful all the same.
“It’s not,” Buck admitted softly, his usual bravado slipping for just a moment. “But I think when you’ve got the right person, it’s worth every challenge.”
Riley’s hand found his under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He’s not wrong. We make it work because we want to.”
The team’s collective swoon was almost palpable. Chimney dramatically placed a hand over his heart. “I swear, you two are going to give me a toothache with how sweet you are.”
“You love it,” Riley shot back, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Of course we do,” Hen said with a grin. “I mean, how can we not? You two are like the firehouse’s own rom-com.”
From then on, it was like the 118 had a radar for all the little moments between Buck and Riley. Whether it was Buck casually wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked, or Riley giving him that rare, soft smile she reserved only for him, the team was obsessed. It wasn’t just the romance—it was the way their connection was woven into everything they did. It made the hard days easier, the victories sweeter, and the family at the 118 even closer.
As the day wound down and the sun began to set, the team gathered outside the station, enjoying the cooler evening air. Riley leaned against Buck’s chest, his arms wrapped around her waist as they both watched the city skyline. It was a rare quiet moment, and the rest of the crew, scattered nearby, couldn’t help but steal glances.
“They’re ridiculous,” Eddie said quietly to Hen, though his tone was affectionate.
Hen nodded. “Completely. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”
And none of them would. Because in a job where danger was always looming, the love that Buck and Riley shared was a reminder of why they all did what they did. It was a reminder of the joy that could be found even in the hardest of times. And, frankly, it was just too adorable to ignore.
As the evening air cooled around them, the 118 lingered outside, caught between the easy camaraderie of a quiet night and the unspoken affection between Buck and Riley. The pair stood wrapped in each other, the fading light casting a golden glow over their relaxed forms. It was the kind of peace the station didn’t often see—a respite from the chaos that usually marked their lives.
Chimney, sitting on one of the outdoor benches, nudged Hen with his elbow. “Look at them,” he whispered, although he wasn’t really being subtle. “They’re like a couple out of a Hallmark movie, aren’t they?”
Hen smirked, shaking her head. “I don’t think Hallmark movies have nearly as much sarcasm and banter.”
Athena, overhearing from a few feet away, leaned in. “Or firefighting. But still,” she added with a soft smile, “they do make it look easy.”
Eddie, standing by the truck, caught Buck’s eye and gave him a knowing look, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Don’t you ever get tired of being this disgustingly in love?”
Buck grinned, one arm still loosely around Riley as he shrugged. “Nope. And don’t act like you’re not jealous.”
Riley tilted her head back to glance up at Buck, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “He’s definitely jealous,” she agreed, playing along.
Eddie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”
Despite all the teasing, it was obvious to everyone that there was no jealousy—just a genuine fondness for the couple who had somehow become the heartbeat of the team. Buck and Riley’s relationship wasn’t just about them; it had woven itself into the fabric of the 118, bringing with it a sense of warmth and family that had made the crew even tighter than before.
As the night deepened, Bobby, ever the observant captain, finally spoke up from his spot by the station doors. “Alright, enough standing around gawking at the lovebirds. Who’s up for a game of pool inside?”
The suggestion was met with eager responses, and soon enough, the group filtered back into the station. Buck and Riley trailed behind, her hand still casually hooked around his, their easy connection evident in even the smallest gestures.
Inside, the station’s rec room was lively with the sounds of friendly competition. Hen lined up her shot at the pool table while Chimney gave running commentary, always ready to crack a joke. Athena and Bobby sat at one of the tables, watching the team with a mixture of amusement and pride.
Buck and Riley, though, found themselves on one of the couches, content to watch the others from a distance. Riley curled up against Buck’s side, her head resting on his shoulder as he absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair. It was these quiet moments that often struck the rest of the crew the most—the way they didn’t need words or grand gestures to show their love. It was there, in the way they leaned into each other, in the stolen glances and soft smiles, in the comfortable silence between them.
Chimney couldn’t resist throwing another comment their way. “You two just gonna sit there and be cute, or are you actually gonna join in?”
Buck laughed, shifting slightly to tighten his arm around Riley. “We’re good here. Besides, I don’t need to embarrass you all at pool again.”
Hen chimed in with a smirk. “Oh, please. Last time you played, you nearly scratched on every shot.”
“That’s because Riley was distracting me,” Buck shot back, feigning innocence as Riley nudged him in the ribs, a playful grin on her face.
“Oh, sure, blame me,” she teased, though the affection in her voice was clear.
Eddie, having finished his own turn at the table, walked over and shook his head. “You two are impossible. It’s like you’re stuck in honeymoon mode forever.”
“That’s just who they are,” Athena said from her spot, her voice tinged with warmth. “And you know what? It’s good for them. For all of us.”
Bobby nodded in agreement, looking over at the couple with a fatherly pride that he rarely expressed out loud. “They’ve found something special. That’s rare in this line of work.”
Riley, catching the sentiment behind their words, sat up a little straighter, her expression softening as she glanced around at the group. “You lot act like we’re the only ones who have something good,” she said, her voice teasing but genuine. “This whole team, it’s a family. That’s special too.”
There was a moment of silence after her words, a pause where everyone seemed to take in the truth of what she’d said. It wasn’t just Buck and Riley’s relationship that made the 118 feel like home—it was the connection they all shared, the way they looked out for each other, teased each other, loved each other in their own way.
Chimney, always the first to break a serious moment, clapped his hands together. “Alright, alright. Enough with the sappy stuff. Let’s see if Hen can actually finish this game without losing to me.”
The mood shifted back into playful banter, but the warmth lingered. As the night wore on, and the crew settled into their usual rhythms, Riley and Buck remained close, content in the knowledge that they weren’t just a couple within a team—they were part of something bigger. Their love, as much as it was about the two of them, had become a reflection of the family they’d found at the 118.
Later, as the station quieted down and the night shift rolled on, Buck and Riley found themselves back outside under the stars, standing in the same spot where the team had teased them earlier. Riley wrapped her arms around Buck’s waist, leaning her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her head.
“You know they’re never going to stop teasing us,” she murmured, her voice laced with affection.
Buck chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “Let them. I don’t mind.”
Riley looked up at him, her eyes soft in the dim light. “Me neither.”
They stood there for a while longer, just the two of them, wrapped in each other as the city lights flickered in the distance. Inside, their family—the 118—was waiting, ready to tease, to laugh, to love, and to face whatever came next, together.
31 notes · View notes
musings-of-a-rose · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Prepping for Parents
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Word Count: 680+
Rating: This is fluffy and for everyone, but my blog is rated Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: This was for the @pickled-pena writing challenge! Check it out here, but the specs are in the moodboard.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Javier Peña Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Ok..I think I have everything for the natilla. We’ll have to stop at the bakery to grab the buñuelos on the way back home…” I scan my grocery list, making sure to check items off with the pencil I have stuck behind my ear. In the corner of my eye, I see Javier nervously shifting from foot to foot, his hands on his hips as he chews at his lip. “Are you ok, Jav?”
“Hhmm?” His dark eyes meet mine and I swear I melt a little every time he looks at me. “Yeah. I’m great.”
“You’re about to chew a hole through your lip.”
He puffs his lips out, putting his hands up as if to say “Better?” I lean in and kiss his puffy lips, feeling him relax slightly. I pull back and look up at him. “Really. What’s up?”
He shakes his head but isn’t able to contain his thoughts anymore. “Your parents are coming in tonight, our first meeting, and you’ve done all of the cleaning, made sure the hotel is taken care of, made a menu of what we’re having, and you’re picking out all of the food. I just-” he sighs “-can’t I do something?”
“Jav, you don’t have to do anything. You’re here with me and that means so much, especially with all of the work you’ve been doing lately.”
He nods. “Yeah, but I would like to contribute something.”
I can see this is important to him, that he wants to do something for my parents and it makes my heart swell. 
“Do you know what a relish dish is?”
He thinks a moment. “Pickles and olives and shit?”
I chuckle slightly. “Yeah, basically. It’s a big staple at all of our dinners. Mom and dad are pretty particular. Can you go pick out some things for it?”
His eyebrows raise, nearly disappearing into his hairline. “You would trust me with it?”
“Just don’t put actual shit on the plate and I think you’ll be fine.”
He nods and takes off while I finish out my list. About 10 minutes later, he finds me picking up a bag of milk, which I nearly drop when I see that he’s carrying at least 12 jars of things. “What…what’s all this, Jav?”
He’s struggling slightly, trying not to drop them as he attempts to gently set them in the cart. “Well, I couldn’t settle on just a few things. These?” He holds up a jar of pickles. “Are dill. But maybe they like sweet so..” He holds up another jar. Jar after jar of pickles and olives and peppers, a slew of varieties, some I’d never seen before as he puts them in the cart. When he’s done, he brushes his hands together and looks at me, his eyes big like a puppy.
“Do you think it will be enough?”
I laugh then, my whole chest bouncing with it. “Jav, you got way too much. It’s just the 4 of us.”
"You stand there and accuse me of getting too much but where were you at the time? I don't know what everyone likes and..." he mumbles something, but I can’t quite hear him, my eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What?”
He crosses his arms, his eyes not quite meeting mine as he leans in, speaking quietly. “I just want them to like me.”
“Oh, Javier. They’re coming all the way to Colombia for Christmas just to meet you. Trust me, they wouldn’t have made all of this effort if they didn’t like you. And besides-” I put a finger under his chin and tilt him to look at me “- I love you. There’s no way they won’t.”
His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly with a smile. “I love you too, querida.” He kisses me, soft lips and bristly mustache tickling at my skin before pulling back. “But this is stressing me out.” He kisses the top of my head before patting down his pockets and sliding out a pack of cigarettes. I let out a huff of disapproval when he fishes out his lighter.
“I thought you said you were quitting?”
He puts a cigarette in his mouth as he turns to walk to towards the door. “It will be my resolution, I promise querida.”
Author’s Notes: Natilla is a sweet custard that’s traditionally served during Christmas in Colombia. There’s many variations on it, but here’s one with coconut. Buñuelos are like a sweetish bread made with cheese, corn starch, and yuca flower that’s typically round/ball shaped and are pictured with the link I added with natilla. I could eat my weight in buñuelos. And yes, they have bagged milk in Colombia, I’ve seen it with my own eyes!
Tumblr media
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry
100 notes · View notes
boymanmaletheshequel · 3 months ago
Text
Symbolism of Eos
🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️
Eos is the rosy fingered goddess of the dawn, the sister to Helios and Selene, and the daughter of Hyperion and Theia. She was known for her insatiable lust for men inflicted upon her by Aphrodite. She is a fairly unworshiped goddess for how large she is in Greek mythology, and is long overdue for a cult renaissance! Maybe we can reignite that cult by beginning with some of her divine symbolism and magickal correspondences!
🌈 colors:
- Saffron. According to Greek mythology, it is said in Theogony that lady Eos wears a saffron orange cloak reminiscent of the morning dawn’s sunrise, so saffron/orange and red are the colors typically most associated with her.
🍎 foods/herbs and spices
- Saffron. Again, although no foods or spices are explicitly stated to be divine of or sacred to Eos, it can be inferred by text that saffron is a spice that can be reasonably associated with her.
- Coffee. Although not mentioned directly, coffee is the drink perhaps most universally associated with the morning, the domain of Eos, so it can be assumed that coffee would be quite sacred to her.
- Cereal. Another breakfast item that is widely associated with the dawn and morning, cereal isn’t just a modern invention, grain cereals have existed for thousands of years, and although I’m not too certain on wether or not it’s always been a breakfast staple, the fact that it is so synonymous with it now leaves me reasonably sure it must be sacred to her!
🦌 animals:
- Grasshoppers. In the story of Eos and Tithonus, the goddess petitions Zeus for her most recent lovers immortality, however, she neglected also to request eternal youth. In time he shrivelled up by old age and transformed into a grasshopper. Classic dick move from big Z. Anyways, grasshoppers are sacred to her as a result of this incident.
🌸 flowers:
- Rose. Known for her rosy pink fingers and complexion, warmly toasted by the morning sunrise, roses are the obvious choice for lady Eos if your going for a traditional association! If you want to try something a bit more modern though..
- Morning Glory. A flower that closes up at night and opens up to the sunrise, this flower has Eos’s signature in its very name, and is a perfect flower to plant or collect in her honor!
💎 crystals:
- Sunstone. Named after the star she is iconic of, sunstone is an easy choice as a crystal or gemstone to equate to the goddess, it’s glorious orange hues are very reminiscent of her glory.
- Crocoite. A fairly obscure one, Crocoite is literally derived from the Latin name for saffron, due to its extremely fragile nature and beautiful hot orange color. A great special addition to an altar or shrine to her!
🪐 planets:
- The sun. Obviously, being the goddess of the sunrise, the sun is the planet that reigns as her sacred domain, a trait she shares with other sun related deities like Helios and Apollo.
☄️ astrology:
- Sagittarius. A fiery, passionate goddess with a history of Ill fated love and nearly debilitating lust, mother Eos is almost certainly a sag.
☀️ other iconography:
- Pitcher. In many Ancient Greek depictions of the goddess, she can be seen carrying a pitcher or watering can, a symbol of a new day and its fertility and awakening new growth it brings.
- Tiara. She is also known to wear a beautiful tiara that is always sitting upon her head, much like the shape of the sun rising in the morning over a hill!
🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️
Do you know of Eos? And if so, what do you find epitomizes her glory and beauty for you? Let me know! If you like this post and wish to learn more about the gods of Hellen, consider following my blog! Happy day and blessings 🏛️💙
24 notes · View notes
seastarblue · 3 months ago
Text
Full Moon Festival: Part One
under the cut!
“Come on, Kaids, we’re gonna miss all the good stuff!” Felix huffed, fixing his raven mask over his face.
Kaiden answered with a grunt as she pulled on her left boot, wolf mask and light brown cloak already in place. “We have all night, Fel, please.” She stayed seated on her stool and crossed one leg over the other to get those pesky laces tied.
“No we don’t! People’re gonna run out of treats! And then we’ll be left with tricks.” Felix huffed, leaning on the doorway, his exasperation noticeable even through his mask. “You don’t want to get a fistful of Mots to the face, do you?”
‘Mots’—a powdery, relatively harmless substance in a motley of colors—were a staple of the Full Moon Festival, held during every night with a full moon during the Tenth month. It was a relatively normal celebration, involving many foods, drinks, fun, and music, but what set it apart from the many other festivals was the fact that all the Moon Market goers donned costumes of every shape, size, and color.
However, what caused the now bouncing half-fairy to be so impatient were the treats that people gave out during this event. It could be anything, really, from small candies to a few coins. But in spite of Felix’s excitement, the young knights weren’t there for the festival.
“We aren’t even using the main roads, remember?” Kaiden said, getting up and slipping two small knives into their sheaths at the small of her back. “We’ve got work to do, stupid. Now let’s get going.” Kaiden dragged the grumbling knight with her when she walked out of the room.
Oh yes, the pair were there to apprehend a serial killer who had eluded the Emerald Guard for weeks now. This murderer—nicknamed the Butcher for their violent way of chopping citizen after citizen up—only killed under the cover of night and the safety of crowds above, and later dragged their victims down into the Bay below the city. The festival was the perfect place for their next stop.
The people were unsettled—and when the people were unsettled, the Azari stepped in.
———
The festival was now in full swing, the crowds of costumed folk gathered around and moved like currents. Music floated over their heads, a sweet lilting breeze over the sea of people.
The two knights were on the opposite outskirts of the crowd—Kaiden on the upper levels of the city, Felix on the lower—needing to stay vigilant for any suspicious activity. A vibrantly decorated stall stood on Kaiden’s right, displaying decroative lunar knickknacks to be sold for the low, low price of three coppers.
The knight leaned against the side of the stall, making sure to stay out of sight from the stallkeep—she didn’t want to be haggled into buying a cheap rune. ‘I—we— need to be focused,’ she thought, ‘and that doesn’t involve partaking in festivities—wait a damn minute.’
Something had caught Kaiden’s eye. She skimmed the rest of the street from her spot, only to facepalm at the sight of her partner-in-justice merrily chatting away with a woman in front of another—somehow brighter—shop.
Kaiden nearly lost her mind right there. Keeping position, she tried to catch Felix’s eye and get him to get back to watching for the Butcher. Felix, being completely engrossed in his conversation, kept talking with the shopkeep.
A shiver ran through her then, and she looked up, causing her to jump at the specter now peering down at her.
‘Spirits in such a crowded place, huh… what’s it doing?’ she thought, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion.
It started to motion to…itself? Or its own …eye…spaces? Kaiden couldn’t tell, considering the spirit’s overall lack of a solid shape. It fizzled, then its shape became much clearer. It was covering its eyes! Kaiden inwardly chuckled at the ghost’s suspicions: there was no way Felix didn’t see her. Or at least sense her impatience, what with the literal soul bind they shared.
‘Well it seems like I’ll have to change that,’ she thought, picking up a stray flyer. Making her way down and across the crowded street—‘staying in position be damned at this point,’—she crumpled the flyer into a tight ball. Felix wouldn’t know what hit him.
———
Felix was immersed in a very engaging conversation with Darla, the owner of a little inn that was almost swallowed by shimmering Moon Festival decor. The elderly woman practically glowed with excitement as she explained all the decorations—and even gave him some Mots and a Combustion rune—in detail to the knight, who was listening while keeping an eye on his surroundings. He had a job to do, after all, despite the many distractions—and his partner’s glare nearly burning a hole in his head.
He had just noticed something—or someone—moving in his peripheral when a ball of paper nearly hit him in the eye.
Grumbling, and turning the flyer into ash with a quick spell, he snapped his gaze to the culprit—now wading across the crowded street. When she arrived, and was in earshot, he started, “The hells was that for?!” crossing his arms over his chest.
Kaiden was not amused, if the scowl that was on her face was anything to go by. “That was for not paying attention, Felix.” she barked, now standing right in front of him. “What would you do if the target passed right here?! Keep yammering with the actual partygoers?”
Felix glanced to where Darla once was, worried that Kaiden’s outburst would tell the woman why the two of them were there. The shopkeeper had left.
Kaiden took a breath, removed her mask and continued, “Really, Fel, we gotta stay alert, you know? This is our first solo mission, we need to get this right!” With the mask off, she still looked annoyed. Her eyes glowed gold, as they usually did when she was upset. A twinge of guilt passed through him—he was also strung up about this task. “…Sorry Kaids. It won’t happen again.” He gave her a sheepish, apologetic grin.
“…”
“Uh—Hey what’s that?” Felix pointed slightly past Kaiden’s head to another flyer, this one plain white, tucked into a crevice in the bricks. That must have been what he saw earlier, he realized.
Kaiden gave him a look. “You’re not gonna run away if I turn around, will you?”
“Whatttt? Nah.”
Kaiden raised an eyebrow but complied. On the wall was a piece of paper completely blank, save for an hastily-scribbled arrow pointing to their left. She made her way over and ripped it from the wall, flipping it to the other side.
Someone had drawn a simple map, directing them to the left and down into the lowest levels of Vespar—the Bay. At the bottom of the map was a X, right next to a…smiley face?
Felix—who had peeped over her shoulder—scoffed. “Is this guy mocking us?”
“I’d guess so,” she replied, tucking the scrap into her pocket. She then turned to the direction the arrow pointed. The dingy alleyway gaped ahead of them, dropping down into near pitch blackness.
“So, there might be a…let’s say a 90 percent chance we get butchered—“ he snickered at his own joke, ”—and tossed into the bay if we take the bait. Think we should go?” Felix asked, suddenly somber.
Kaiden nodded. Something told her this map was their ticket to successfully completing this mission, however dangerous it may be.
“If that’s the case, then,” he unsheathed one of his sais and gave it an artful flip, “let’s catch us a cutthroat, shall we?” He gave his partner a wild grin, nearly vibrating with excitement.
Kaiden responded with a smirk of her own, returning her wolf mask to its rightful place. “We shall.”
“Ladies first~” he gave an obnoxious bow and motioned to the direction the map pointed to.
Kaiden snorted and strided over to the nearest ladder. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Felix.” 
Before he could reply, she dropped down onto a shabby roof, and then descended onto the road in front of it. Felix followed, and as two knights moved forward, the ornate decor of the festival above faded away into the grime and disrepair of the Bay.
———
here’s part two!
and tagging: @xenascribbles @notyourlocalworm @bunnymermaidwrites
@thebookishkiwi @bardic-tales
25 notes · View notes
in-my-feels-probably · 1 year ago
Note
Hey it’s me with the sick dog, but I was hoping to request like a super fluffy fic like established relationship, super domestic and just fluffy. Maybe watching a new horror movie or something. I don’t mind who but i’m partial to Remus, Sirius and Theo Nott
Timeless
Request: I was hoping to request like a super fluffy fic like established relationship, super domestic and just fluffy. Maybe watching a new horror movie or something. I don’t mind who but i’m partial to Remus, Sirius and Theo Nott
Hi! I hope this makes your day a little better, I tried making this pretty fluffy. I’m happy to write you something else if this isn’t what you were looking for, but hopefully you like this! I hope you have a good day, and thank you for the request :)
(Warnings: none? let me know if i missed anything)
Sirius had always loved the simple things.
He had grown up around magic all his life. As he got older, he realized just how much he relied on it. But he also knew just how much it had hurt him over the years, often being way more trouble than it was worth. When he met you, you were like a breath of fresh air. He loved how differently you had grown up compared to him. When you graduated from Hogwarts, you moved into a flat together on the outskirts of London. 
It was a community far enough from the city that you could safely still use your magic without being seen, but you also didn’t have to rely on it. Anything you needed wasn’t hard to get—all you had to do was take a short walk into town. It took Sirius some getting used to, but he eventually fell in love with your little home away from the life he had always known. 
He relished in the domesticity and simplicity of the life you had together, and it eventually felt natural to him.
One of his favorite muggle inventions you showed him was the TV. He sat on the couch for nearly a week after you moved in, cycling through all the movies and shows you had mentioned to him over the years. He also loved the movie theater, and it became a staple on your date nights in town. When you were too lazy to go out and do something, but you still wanted to spend time together, you’d have a movie night. Sirius would go around the corner to the little diner run by a sweet old couple and pick up food for you to eat while you watched your movie. 
It was your night to pick the movie this time, and Sirius came in the door just as you had put it on.
“Etta and George say hello,” Sirius said, tossing his keys on the counter before placing the food on the coffee table, taking a seat next to you. “And Etta wanted me to tell you that she thought you looked really pretty last week when we came by the diner.”
You could feel your heart warm as you leaned into his side. “That’s so sweet.”
“So, what are we watching?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, settling into the couch. 
“It’s called Halloween. Remus knew I've been wanting to watch it, so he came by earlier and let me borrow his copy—remind me to bring it back to him sometime by the way. Anyway, it’s supposed to be pretty scary. Is that alright with you?”
“Think I can’t handle it, darling?” Sirius asked, a grin on his face. “You don’t think I’m brave?”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think you’re very brave. I also think you’re very prone to screaming like a child when something surprises you. Remember when James was over last week and you didn’t know he was here? You nearly jumped out of your skin when he came out of the bathroom.”
“I just wasn’t prepared for another man to be in my flat, let alone waltzing out of my bathroom like he owns it. You can understand my surprise, darling. It wouldn’t have happened under any other circumstances.”
“I see,” you mused, pressing play as you turned your attention to the TV. “So, you aren’t gonna be hiding your face in my arm by the end of the film?”
Sirius smirked, shaking his head at your teasing. “I think I’ll make it without resorting to that. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“My pleasure.”
Sirius barely made it twenty minutes in before he was already shifting uncomfortably next to you, a grimace on his face. You hid your smirk behind your sleeve, keeping your eyes on the screen. 
“I’m gonna kick Moony’s ass,” he muttered under his breath, so quiet you could barely hear him. “Masochistic bastard.”
“Want me to turn it off?” You asked, reaching for his hand.
Sirius gladly accepted, squeezing your hand tight. He just shook his head, continuing to watch the movie. At every intense scene or flashes of gore, you could feel him squeezing your hand tighter. By the time you made it halfway in, you couldn’t feel your fingers. When the movie was finally over, he let out a sigh of relief. He relaxed into the couch, his grip on your hand easing. 
“Never again,” he said as he turned to face you. “We’re watching Grease next time. I don’t have to worry about my heart bursting out of my chest watching Grease.”
You chuckled, running your hand up and down his forearm. “You made it, though. And you didn’t cry, not even once.”
“Very funny,” he pouted, but he made no move to pull his arm away from your touch. 
“I’m just teasing,” you smiled, leaning into his side. “I’m proud of you. You watched the whole thing, even though you weren’t enjoying it. It was very brave. Thank you for indulging me.”
“Thank you for letting me nearly break your hand. Are you alright, by the way? I didn’t mean to squeeze that hard.”
You chuckled, nodding. “It’s fine, love. It doesn’t even hurt.”
You talked as you finished your food, a random shitty soap opera playing on the TV in the background. It was one you both pretended not to be interested in, even though you both secretly had become quite invested in the plot more than a few episodes ago. 
“How long do you think Etta and George have been together?” Sirius asked, finishing what was left of his fries.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, leaning over to steal a fry. “The diner has been there since I was a kid. There used to be a little record store on the corner, and I’d always pass the diner on my way. They’ve been together for quite a long time, I think.”
“Do you ever wonder what we’re gonna be like when we’re their age?”
You smiled, nodding. “Sometimes. Hopefully we’re still in love, and not sick of each other. That would be a shame—you’re too pretty for frown lines.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, and Sirius let out a chuckle. He playfully nudged his elbow into your side, feigning offense. Suddenly, he yawned, reaching a hand up to rub at tired eyes. 
“Sleepy, love?” You asked, motioning for him to lay down. 
Sirius pivoted to swing his legs over the arm of the couch, resting his head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“I wouldn’t mind ending up like Etta and George. Running their business, still together and in love. That’s years and years of happiness. We could have that. Our little flat and our diner on the corner. It's simple. Peaceful. I could get used to it—couldn’t you?
Sirius smiled, nodding. “Yeah…yeah, I could.”
It was quiet for a moment as you continued running your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. Sirius kept his eyes closed, a content smile on his face. A warmth spread through your chest as he nuzzled his head into your lap, his cheek pressed against your thigh.
“I bet Etta doesn’t make George watch scary movies,” Sirius said unexpectedly, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to fight a grin. “I bet Etta has never heard George scream like a little girl.”
“Fair play, darling. Fair play.”
A/N - Hi! Thank you again for the request, I hope you liked this :)
91 notes · View notes
teafairywithabook · 1 year ago
Text
How Redacted Characters Wrap Gifts Pt 2
Here's how I envision various Redacted bois would wrap their gifts...
Demons
Avior: So neat. Matching ribbon and gift tag. If he can't find a matching gift tag, there won't be one. He'll remember who it's for. Doesn't have huge amounts of patience for wrapping, so although he prefers to hand wrap, if it's a difficult shape, has no qualms at all about finger snapping the wrapping!
Regulus: He knows his precious human enjoys unwrapping gifts at this time of year. Unfortunately they're unavailable to do so at the moment. When they're in a better position, however, there's a lot - and I do mean a lot - of gifts waiting for them, hidden away. All perfectly wrapped as they deserve, in sparkly paper. Ready to make them smile as much as they make him smile. Eventually...
Camelopardalis: Uses seed paper. It's colourful and has wildflower seeds in so you can plant it. I nearly gave this one to Huxley, but this kind of felt like Cam would like it too.
Vega: Given that gifts aren't a human concept, he could be persuaded to give someone a token gift perhaps? If they needed something, like a human to feed on maybe. Wrapping might be a step too far.
EMPOWERED HUMANS
Elliott: Uses fabric! Brightly colored scarves, fabric squares, anything he thinks the reciever would enjoy.
Blake: Gets that cheap shit that tears the second you try and use it. Tapes over the holes badly. Pathetic.
Morgan: Tired of this shit already. Uses gift bags. So much easier!
James: Gives gift cards inside greetings cards, written really nicely in fountain pen.
UNEMPOWERED HUMANS
Geordi: Passable. Not quite as bad as Asher, but this is not really a skill Geordi has. Likes to use bio-degradable paper.
Guy: WRAPPING! Oh yes! Will absolutely try to find funny or offensive paper. Be warned. Probably as bad as the contents. Saw a YouTube Short about wrapping a gift in several layers of duct tape, zip ties, paper, staples, rubber bands and thought it was HYSTERICAL! Honey did not.
Aaron: Very civilised. Sits down with everything he needs, some music on and a drink, and spends a whole evening wrapping up in nice normal paper.
Marcus: Tells people he's "donating to a good cause this year" instead of giving gifts and cards. He's a lying sack of shit.
Ollie: Very careful, and you can generally see where he's peeled back the tape to re-stick it because he dropped the tape on the paper in the wrong place.
SPECIAL MENTIONS
Hush: Wasn't sure what was going on, but after Doc showed him and explained the whole thing, turned out to be really good at wrapping. Doc made him wrap all of theirs too.
Adam: He would roll the paper around the gift and roll the tape around it several times, but he can't, because he's FUCKING DEAD IN EVERY UNIVERSE.
Marie: You don't wrap Tupperware. She gives food. She's perfect like that.
Did I miss anyone? Want me to do someone? Let me know!
Happy holidays!
93 notes · View notes