#ladle covering compound

[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”

[kashmirisaffron]

Saffron Risotto Recipe: A Luxurious Italian Dish

Saffron risotto is a luxurious and aromatic Italian dish that combines the creamy goodness of risotto with the delicate flavor and vibrant color of saffron. This recipe will guide you through the process of creating a flavorful and satisfying saffron risotto that can be enjoyed as a main course or served as a side dish.

Ingredients:

1 cup Arborio rice

4 cups vegetable or chicken broth

1/2 cup dry white wine

1 small onion, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon Kashmiri Saffron threads

3 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Cooking Instruction:

In a small bowl, steep the saffron threads in 2 tablespoons of hot water for about 10 minutes to allow the flavor and color to infuse.

In a separate saucepan, heat the vegetable or chicken broth and keep it simmering on low heat.

In a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and minced garlic, and sauté until they become translucent and fragrant.

Add the Arborio rice to the pot and stir it around to coat it evenly with the butter and onions. Toast the rice for a couple of minutes until it becomes slightly translucent at the edges.

Pour in the white wine and stir continuously until it is absorbed by the rice.

Reduce the heat to medium-low and begin adding the hot broth to the pot, one ladleful at a time. Stir the rice continuously and allow each ladleful of broth to be absorbed before adding the next. Continue this process for about 20-25 minutes or until the rice is cooked al dente (firm to the bite), but still creamy.

Add the saffron threads along with the liquid they were steeped in. Stir well to evenly distribute the saffron throughout the risotto.

Stir in the remaining tablespoon of butter and the grated Parmesan cheese until they are melted and well incorporated. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Remove the pot from the heat and let the risotto rest, covered, for a couple of minutes.

Serve the saffron risotto hot, garnished with fresh chopped parsley. Enjoy!

How to Serve:

Saffron risotto can be served as a main course or as a side dish alongside grilled meats or roasted vegetables. Here are a few suggestions on how to serve it:

As a standalone dish: Serve the saffron risotto in individual bowls or plates. You can garnish it with a sprinkle of grated Parmesan cheese, a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, and a few strands of saffron for an elegant touch. Pair it with a crisp green salad on the side for a complete meal.

As a side dish: Saffron risotto pairs well with a variety of proteins such as grilled chicken, seared fish, or roasted lamb. Serve a portion of the risotto alongside the main protein, allowing the flavors to complement each other.

With roasted vegetables: Roasted vegetables like asparagus, cherry tomatoes, or mushrooms make excellent companions to saffron risotto. You can either mix the roasted vegetables directly into the risotto before serving or arrange them on top as a flavorful garnish.

Remember to serve the saffron risotto hot, as it is at its best when enjoyed freshly prepared.

Extra Notes and Tips:

Saffron is a precious spice, so it’s important to use organic saffron and handle it with care. The flavor and color of saffron can be intensified by crushing the threads slightly before steeping them in hot water. This will release more of the aromatic compounds.

Risotto requires attention and stirring to achieve a creamy texture. Be patient and stir the rice constantly as you gradually add the broth. This process helps release the starch from the rice, resulting in a creamy consistency.

The choice of broth is crucial for the flavor of the risotto. Use a good-quality vegetable or chicken broth to enhance the taste. If possible, opt for homemade broth for the best flavor.

Arborio rice is commonly used for risotto due to its high starch content, which contributes to the creamy texture. However, you can also try other short-grain rice varieties suitable for risotto, such as Carnaroli or Vialone Nano.

Feel free to customize your saffron risotto by adding other ingredients such as cooked peas, sautéed mushrooms, or diced cooked chicken for added texture and flavor.

Leftover risotto can be refrigerated and reheated, but it tends to lose its creamy texture. To revive the creaminess, add a splash of broth or water while reheating and stir gently until heated through.

Finally, don’t forget to savor the delightful aroma and vibrant color of saffron risotto. It’s a dish that can truly elevate your dining experience.

Indulge in the richness of flavors and the mesmerizing aroma of saffron risotto, and let this classic Italian dish transport you to culinary bliss.

[ricehusk]

Refractories Important Aspects of every Industry

Refractory materials form the most important connection between the thermal process technology and the material to be heated. The functionality is related to the product quality as well as the cost of the heat processes. As we know that refractory materials goes through the best quality standards in critical application areas, such as metal, glass and ceramic production. The most important point of refractory is it must withstand very different thermal, chemical and mechanical loads.  If  the refractory withstand these loads it can produce large number of refractory products such as  refractory and insulation bricks, dense shaped products such as basic, fireclay bricks or silica bricks, kiln furniture, fiber materials.  

For industrial heat treatment, different types of furnaces are used. The selection of the furnace type depends on numerous parameters such as operating then required furnace atmosphere, maximum temperature, loading   and support and transport of the material in the furnace. These are designed especially for each application such as usable volume, heaters, furnace lining and gas etc. Depending on the needs of the furnace user, furnace systems must be planned very flexibly for different products and production volumes or for constant high throughput of large-scale production.

It is true that the world cannot function without Refractories. Refractories are responsible for facilitating many modern manufacturing processes that rely on their robust properties.

The most important characteristic of a refractory is its ability to withstand high temperatures while maintaining dimensional stability after repeated thermal cycling.

Characteristics of Refractories are as follows

·         Abrasion   resistance

·         Bulk   density

·         Cold   crushing strength

·         Creep

·         Melting point

·         Porosity

·         Pyrometric cone equivalent

·         Refractoriness under load

 Global Recycling is one of the topmost rice husk ash manufacturers & suppliers of India. We offer rice hull ash, rice husk ash. We are one of the most reliable and well-known manufacturers of the high-grade Heat insulation compound and ladle covering compounds too. Our products are made of high-quality raw materials. This is the reason why our products contain high insulating power, spread ability, and expandability. Products provided by us spreads quickly and easily to cover the whole surface of the steel. Rice husk has lots of utilities as a tundish covering compound

[pangtasias-atelier]

Taking it Natural

Well I can never fully stick to an outline lmao. But, I did manage a lil fic involving just some simple stuff between Cormag and Artur.

Kink stuff is more on the lesser end, cause I wanted to focus a bit more on dialogue and also wanted to write something on the smaller scale of sizes. Also was just fun to write a shorter, simpler story and also one not set in Askr which I need to do more lol

"I am perfectly fine doing the dishes," Artur lightly hums to himself. He scrubs away at the bits and remnants of the day's finished meal. A few pots and pans already on the drying rack alongside the ladles, said dishes preemptively cleaned before dinner had even been eaten, he washes the clutter of used dinnerware. His back facing Cormag, his partner currently sits at the couch.

"I'll go check on Genarog then," His voice comes out strained. Completely leaning against the couch, Cormag's stomach continues its prolonged harassment towards its owner. His stomach is a cacophony of churning and gurgling noises, the overworked, stuffed gut letting it's discomfort be known. Despite his declaration of performing a chore, he simply remains seated with his head leaning back. His lips are parted as he languidly recovers enough energy to catch his breath.

"I already fed him and made sure he's comfortable in his stable," Arthur places a plate on the drying rack beside the just washed cutlery and glassware. His still soapy hands reach for the next plate to scrub at.

"Ah," Cormag's strenuous breathing remains the same. He keeps his eyes closed as a way to block out any possible external  discomfort besides his tumultuous tummy. "Then I'll…" Cormag trails off with a groan. A few extra pants and wheezes come out as his gut seems to give him an extra angry complaint. "Then I'll-"

"You can wait on the couch. I am fine, Cormag," The last plate cleaned and set aside to dry, he dries his hands on a dish towel, the damp cloth adorned with miniature wyverns. Turning around, he smiles as he gets an eyeful of Cormag's sorry stuffed state.

Cormag retiring from being a soldier, he had instead taken up woodworking once he and Artur decided to live together. His new line of work requiring a different, less intensive set of skills, the sudden change of constant routines and fighting to meticulous, long periods of time sitting while carving was a sudden change for his metabolism and appetite. The lack of much activity affecting his physique was only compounded by Artur's task of taking care of the house's chores. Cormag had already been aware of Artur's proficiency in the culinary arts through their occasional picnics back when the two had first begun a relationship, yet the latter's constant practice through cooking everyday left his prowess in the kitchen to something to truly be proud of. Cormag having a generous fill of food every meal of the day, his indulgence of Artur's cooking hadn't moved quite past an extra helping or two every go around. Although, even those generous extra helpings helped plump and widen his waistline to a body type rather past stocky and into fat guy territory.

Clothes upsized just as his body upsized, his maroon t-shirt does a sufficient job in covering Cormag’s sun kissed skin. His compact yet soft pile of squishy fat for a stomach curves outwards as it ever so gently slots itself on top of his doughy thighs. Pressed up against his shirt, the malleable tummy barely covers any of Cormag’s lap, enough space for Artur to be comfortably seated atop him still. The two fleshy legs seem even wider as he sits, the bunched up fat splaying a slightly extra amount from resting on the couch. Cormag’s pants do their best in perfectly covering the two, the waistband even widened as well to not uncomfortably squish against Cormag’s hips. The center of his gut juts out more than his squeezable love handles, Cormag’s rotundness more pronounced. The stuffed mass seems to taunt Artur, his eyes finding themselves often drifting back towards the perfectly rubbably surface. Cormag’s sizable chest makes itself comfortable on top of his stomach, the handful of breasts splaying a bit to the side from the accumulation of fat. His pronounced chest only helps make Cormag seem extra wide, Artur always feeling rather twiggish next to his plump teddy bear of a husband. Though the lightly tanned moobs are offered enough room from Cormag’s spacious shirt to not be so confined and pressed up against the fabric. Cormag’s biceps are no more, the somewhat, albeit nicely, defined biceps coated in a plush, warm layer of fat. The plump appendaged perfect for a nice, crushing yet comforting hug, Cormag’s arms had always been a secret favorite of Artur’s. Cormag rests his arms on the cushiony back pillows, the bottom heft of his arms squishing ever so slightly against the surface. His face at the very center of his arm span, Artur can only see the fleshy double chin connected to Cormag’s lovably wonderful kissable face. Though he can very much hear his love’s taxed breathing even over the angered grumbling coming from his gut.

“Oh, Artur,” Cormag’s arms wobble for a few moments; the two doughy appendages struggle as he tries to push himself up despite his body’s protests. “Give me, hah, a minute,” His rotund body expands with each great, deep breath he takes.

“No worries,” Artur sits himself beside Cormag. His lap calling to him, he’d feel like a monster causing him anymore discomfort. “I’ll wait beside you,” Artur pats Cormag’s thigh.

“Heh,” Cormag lets out a small chuckle, the only response he can give before he has to take a few more breaths to help relieve the heavy pit of pain resting in his gut. “I really ate like a pig,”

The faint warm onset of a blush on Artur’s face blossoms on his face, the healer always getting a tinge of embarrassment whenever Cormag even offhandedly mentions his size or eating habits. “Perhaps. But, I should learn to stop cooking so much. I just think of something nice for us to share and so I kinda just make it,” Artur tosses a noncommittal shrug at the end, a few awkward laughs thrown in as well as if he hadn’t confessed his unique admiration in the way Cormag’s body plumped out. A few extra pounds looking rather dashing on his tall figure which would only look more handsome if those few extra pounds swelled into a dozen or perhaps even a hundred before Cormag was resting at a sizable 300 pounder of a man.

“Maybe. Guess we both should learn some restraint,”

“Perhaps,,,” Artur nearly reaches for Cormag’s aching gut to soothe the beast before thinking better of it. “I have a salve that should help,” Without waiting for any confirmation, Artur goes to the closet full of his supplies. Herbs able to help cure maladies unlike staves, he rummages through the several jars and boxes he has. Though only Artur would consider his neat, organized setup a mess requiring rummaging, Lute always interested in his tidy organizational skill. Having fetched the ointment, he stands in front of the seated Cormag. “This has to go directly on your skin,” He tosses the lower hem of Cormag’s shirt up. Applying a dollop of the ointment on his hands, he wastes no time in getting them all over Cormag’s stomach.

“You’ve never needed an excuse to do this stuff before,” The salve immediately begins to work its magic on Cormag. His labored breathing slowly begins to take on a more natural pace and the evident discomfort on his face washes away. “You sure do know your way around there,” Cormag even shifts around on the couch, his stomach no longer threatening to self-destruct from the slightest jostle.

Artur drops his head in mirthful laughter, Cormag’s surprising silly teasing always getting to him. “I have rubbed your stomach how many times, Cormag?” His hands drift on over to Cormag’s love handles. Standing above Cormag, he grabs on to the chunky handles as he leans down for a kiss.

“Not enough, knowing you,” Cormag whispers as they part.

“Then you truly do know me,” Artur retorts. Cormag’s stomach is no longer a ticking time bomb, so he figures it’d be fine to sit in his favorite spot. He gently lowers himself down onto Cormag’s lap. His soft squishy, tummy rests comfortably against his back.

“If you had this kind of stuff laying around, why use it only now?”

“Well- I,,,” Artur considers his next words for a moment. “I felt bad with how much I stuffed you tonight. I may have gone overboard so-”

Cormag promptly cuts him off with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t force me to do anything. You’re cooking is great. I tell all my clients about your cooking. They kept hounding me about your recipe for those cookies you always make to butter them up,”

“Ah,” Artur turns bright red as he recalls the high praises from all of Cormag’s clients, a few even inadvertently referring to Cormag’s weight upon said praises. “Well, I also didn’t use this because I didn’t want you to feel like I only cared about stuffing you and getting you fatter,”

“I’m gonna have to get up for this one,” Rising up, Cormag makes sure to help Artur up first. “Look at me,” He grabs Artur’s shoulders. Artur shorter by a few inches, he feels miniscule right now. “If I ever have any problems with my weight, you are going to be the first person I tell. We’ve known each other for years before I started gaining weight,” Cormag brings Artur to him, wrapping him in a bear hug. Artur’s arms are ensnared by Cormag’s own doughy arms. Though he knows his arms wouldn’t be able to wrap around him regardless. His feet rise off a few inches from the ground as Cormag holds on to him. Cormag begins to chuckle, his heart always aflutter with Artur in his arms. The ring of laughter catches onto Artur, the two laughing together. They remain like so for a few minutes, neither speaking.

Eventually, Cormag lets Arthur back down. A hefty sigh escapes his lips from the minimal amount of activity. “And if you ever have any problems with my weight, then let me know,” Cormag holds onto Artur’s hands, rubbing the palm of them with his thumb.

“Of course. But I don’t think I could ever have a problem having such a handsome husband.”

“Unfortunately for you, my husband is more handsome than yours,” Artur snorts from Cormag’s reply. His hands find their way to Cormag’s arm for a light slap.

“I guess you win then. But, thank you. Neither of us have done this, so I wanted to make sure we’re going at a natural pace for the both of us,”

“Taking it nice and slow is my preference. Enjoying the travel is just as important as the destination or however you say it,” An idea sparking in his brain, Cormag devilishly grins, his plump cheeks dimpling. “Let’s enjoy the scenic route some more,” Cormag leans slightly down. He gently whispers in Artur’s ears before resting his lips on his partner’s.

Artur grinning, he merely murmurs in hushed agreement as Cormag kisses him, the crackle of joy feeling just as natural as their first kiss, the two ready to indeed enjoy Cormag’s current size and take things naturally, wherever it might lead.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king epilogue: wooyoung || atz

There’s a girl.

She stands in the surf, the waves lapping over bare feet, strands of her hair flying with the sea breeze. Softened by the light of the sun just as it peeks over the horizon, burning orange sets the silhouette of her aflame, it’s as if she’s the sun herself, bringing with her warmth that seeps into cold fingers, gentle light that slowly fills his entire night even before he notices.

There’s a girl, and she’s out of reach.

He tries to take a step forward, to call her name, one hand reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. His lips move and nothing passes his ears, drowned out by the sea wind. But she hears and begins to turn around, and he just wants to see that radiant smile on her face one more time-

There’s a girl, and it’s a dream.

He wakes up.

Wooyoung’s disoriented for a moment, the sea fading away in his eyes to be replaced by the ceiling of the room. The sounds of Yunho’s noisy snores in the bed opposite him bring him back to reality, slowly but surely, and he sits up, one hand rubbing at his eyes while the other drags through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy bedhead.

Light and chain free.

Letting out a yawn, he turns his head to glance at bed next to his and finds it empty, the sheets already neatly folded and pillow fluffed. It’s barely the crack of dawn.

He shifts to the side of his bed and looks out of the window, the familiar smell of sea salt on the air and soft amber light striking the blue aquamarine gem on his bedside table, throwing soft blue and orange flecks of light everywhere in the room.

He watches the sun rise until it lifts away from the sea into the sky, before he gets to his feet and changes into a simple shirt and trousers, slipping the silver hairpin into his belt.

It’s a new day today.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Yeosang greets him as Wooyoung slips down into the living area of the house. Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at him. “You’re up early.”

“I had some strange dreams and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I came down here to read for a bit.” Yeosang points at the book sitting in front of him on their dining table, a cup of coffee beside him. “Jongho got us breakfast from Seonghwa’s before he went fishing this morning.“

The fragrance of Seonghwa’s beef stew fills his nose and he sniffs appreciatively, glancing around Yeosang to see the pot hanging over their hearth fire. “It looks good.”

“Hurry, eat and wake Yunho up so we can go. We have a lot of things to prepare today.”

“Isn’t your turn to wake Yunho today?” Wooyoung reaches for a bowl and ladles some beef stew into it, perching himself on the table and legs dangling over the side. Even after leaving the ocean for three years, he still can’t get used to the feeling of sitting down on a chair. “And Jongho’s out early. What for?”

“He says there’s been strange sightings of a giant squid monster further out and wants to check it out for himself, the brave soul.” Yeosang chuckles as he flips a page, and Wooyoung catches sight of an ink drawing of a tentacles monster on the paper. “And as for Yunho, you offered to wake him up this morning yesterday in exchange for me doing the dinner dishes.”

The memory is hazy at best, but Wooyoung remembers stumbling into the house late at night, completely exhausted and on the brink of falling asleep on the doorstep if it hadn’t been for Jongho dragging him into his bed by the scruff of his neck. “Ah, shit. You sholdn’t let me make regretable decisions when I’m clearly not in the right state of mind.”

Yeosang shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well, it benefitted me, so of course I’d agree.” Wooyoung makes a face at that, sticking his spoon into his mouth. The familiar taste of Seonghwa’s food instantly brightens his mood and chases away some of the fear that accompanies his later task.

All too soon, the bowl grows empty while his trepedition grows. When it is scraped clean, Wooyoung looks down at it with a sigh before turning to Yeosang. “How about we make this a team effort?”

Yeosang shakes his head, eyes shining with amusement. “You’re on your own.” He makes a shooing motion with his fingers. “Remember to dodge if he starts snorting, being kicked by him hurts.”

Wooyoung sighs, rising to his feet. “Yes sir.”

>>>

A few swung fists, a near encounter with a black eye and an apologetic Yunho later, the three of them head out to their usual place, Yunho and Wooyoung trailing after Yeosang with their arms laden with books. The second they near the familiar iron wrought gates, they hear delighted shouting from one of the upper floor windows.

“It’s Yeosang-oppa!”

“Yeosang and his two slaves!”

At the title, Wooyoung laughs loudly, amused. “Even the kids know how much we’re worked to the bone because of him.” Wooyoung jokes and Yunho lets out a snort as he raises a hand to wave to the kids. “Now, if only they would call us by name instead of ‘Yeosang’s lackeys’... I understand how Captain feels.”

“Well, he’s the teacher and we’re just his assistants.” Yunho replies, the three of them stepping into the orphanage compound. The bright faces from the second floor window quickly vanish, and Wooyoung hears the pitter patter of small feet before the front door is thrown open and excited children spill out of the small building.

“Teacher Yeosang!”

“Look, look! I made a drawing of three of you!”

“Teacher Yeosang, read us that pirate story again!”

“Teacher Yeosang, could you help me solve this mathematics problem...”

“Ahh ahh, no need to be impatient, all of you.” Yeosang chides and the children instantly fall silent, all of them vibrating on the spot with excitement. Wooyoung can’t help but snicker at the sight, they’re quite adorable. “Let me head in and get the room set up first, alright? I brought new books for all of you today.”

“You mean we brought the books.” Yunho says loudly from behind him, waving the stack of hardbacks in his hands for extra effect. Some of the children burst out into little giggles, and Yeosang rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.

“The specifics aren’t important.” He retorts, before he leans down to whisper to the children. “If all of you behave, I’ll read the story of ‘Pirate King’ for all of you, alright?”

Their faces light up instantly, before their little hands grab at Yeosang’s clothes and they begin to pull him into the orphanage, chattering excitedly. “Hurry up! I wanna hear the pirate story again!”

“Pirate story! The pirate king!”

Yeosang casts a helpless look back over his shoulder as the children practically manhandle him into the building.

Save me.

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange looks, before they both give him serene smiles and wave simultaneously.

Good luck.

Yeosang’s glare burns into them the entire way, much to their amusement.

In the lesson room, a small dining space cleared of its usual tables and chairs save for one, Yeosang sits before the group of excited children, his book in his hands as he begins to read aloud.

“Legends say that out there, sailing across the ocean somewhere, is a pirate ship called the Treasure that has plundered every land of its gold and jewels.” Sitting at the back of the room, Yunho and Wooyoung watch as Yeosang slips on his reading glasses. The expression on his face is one of calm focus even though the story he’s reading is nothing but a simple tale, and his audience merely a group of young children even though he’s held debates before scholars and distinguished men.

“The kids never get tired of this story, do they?” Wooyoung says out of the corner of his mouth. Yunho stifles his own laughter, his head leaning back to rest against the wall with a quiet thump.

“Well, the writers did make it very dramatic.” He says softly, so as to not disturb the kids. “It was a lot more boring, the way we lived it. From how they tell it, it’s as if we got into battle every week. They completely missed out the most important, boring thing that happened on board, which was-”

“- lookout duty.” Both of them echo at the same time, and Wooyoung snickers.

“The mizzenmast is still better.”

“Even in a pile of ashes, the main mast is still of more substance that yours.”

Wooyoung covers his mouth with both hands and tries not to laugh too hard.

Across the room, Yeosang levels a glare at the two of them and they shut up instantly, Wooyoung miming locking up his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder.

“The pirate king was a terrible, fearsome man with a reputation that stretched across the oceans-” Yeosang’s barely a few seconds into the story when he’s interrupted.

A young boy throws his hand up, eyes shining with excitement. “Was the pirate king huge?” Yeosang pauses, brows furrowed. “Uhh...”

“He must have been really big and strong if he was so scary!” Another girl pipes up, and Yeosang glances back at the two of them for help. Upon finding none, he nods slowly, a slight grimace on his face. “Oh, yes. He was uhh... very big and scary, almost a head taller than Yunho back there and the size of two men across.”

Yunho coughs loudly into his palm, and Wooyoung can see him struggling to keep the smile off his face. The thought of their captain in the proportions that Yeosang described makes Wooyoung want to laugh till his sides hurt.

“The pirate king and his pirate band ATEEZ crossed the oceans and raided several towns, terrifying townspeople and Royal Navy alike. He would catch misbehaving kids... and steal them away!”

The children jump in their seats, eyes wide. “Steal misbehaving children?” One of the more boisterous boys calls out from the back, looking slightly nervous. Yunho grins from behind, rising to his feet silently and taking quiet, silent steps towards him.  Yeosang nods seriously, his eyes flickering towards the creeping battlemaster at the back for a brief moment before returning his attention to the children.

“Oh, yes.” He says, voice dropping to a low whisper. “The pirate king would steal around in the middle of the night, when the lamps burn low and the shadows seem to watch you from the foot of the bed.” The children seem to be completely enraptured by his words, eyes huge like dinner plates and their mouths hanging open, Yunho going completely unnoticed behind them as he sneaks up on that child. “If you misbehaved, he would climb in through your windows or sneak into your house, and then-”

“Ah!”

The boy at the back screams as Yunho pounces on him, and Wooyoung erupts into laughter at the sight. Panicking, the boy’s arms flail for a second and he ends up smacking Yunho straight in the gut. With a loud, dramatic groan, Yunho sinks to his knees, keeling over onto the floor.

“Ahh... you got me good...”

Wooyoung’s laughing so hard now he can barely keep the tears from the corners of his eyes. “You defeated the pirate king!” The boy cheers, and Yunho gets up from the floor, eyes shining with amusement.

Yeosang shakes his head, but Wooyoung can see the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he flips a page. “Now, what adventure shall I read?”

“The one where he raided a town for chocolate instead of gold!”

“Oh, oh! The story when he had to run away from the Royal Navy!”

“When he faced the sirens!”

“Alright, I got it.” Yeosang’s face is gentle, and he turns the pages of his book once more. “I’ll read all the stories that you want today.”

The children cheer.

The morning passes peacefully, with Yeosang wrapping up his storytelling session with one or two (or a whole lot more untruths about their captain). After that, Yunho and Wooyoung take some of the older boys to the backyard to play some sword fighting, while Yeosang teaches the younger ones their letters.

“What do you intend to do for the rest of the day?” Yunho asks Wooyoung as the two of them finish up arranging the books that they’d brought on the shelves. Wooyoung frowns, pondering this for a second.

“Well, I’m supposed to do quite a lot of deliveries for San and Seonghwa today, so I’ll probably be busy till evening.” He says, shrugging before he slips another book into the shelf. “What about you? Training the recruits at the Royal Navy has got to easy as pie for you, isn’t it? You come home before the sun sets every day.”

Yunho shakes his head, laughing. “Oh, no. They’re all talented, that’s it. I’m just teaching them the basics and they catch on fast. Still,” he glances at Wooyoung, eyes twinkling. “It’s funny that we’ve come to this, isn’t it? Two legendary pirates from the story of the Pirate King, one working as an odd job man and the other training the Royal Navy, of all things.”

Wooyoung nods, fingers stilling on the spine of a book. “Yeah. It’s not something any of us would have seem coming.” He says softly.

After the incident three years ago, the Treasure had been turned to matchwood and the crew returned to normal lives for the first time in years. Learning to get used to walking on flat, unmoving ground once again, smelling flowers and grass instead of the familiar scent of sea salt in the air, sleeping in a bed instead of on a hammock, all these were like taking baby steps back to normalcy, one at a time.

“But I like it, you know.” Yunho says suddenly, voice quiet. Wooyoung blinks at him, prompting him to elaborate further. “No more running, no more fighting, just peace and quiet and an honest living.” He turns and grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “I think I’ve had quite enough adventure for a lifetime.”

Wooyoung smiles, turning away to put the books left in his hands on the topmost shelf. “Yeah.” He agrees. “It really was the adventure of a lifetime.”

>>>

San’s apothecary is tucked away from the hustle and bustle of town, right at the foot of a small hill some distance from the port. Barely anyone takes the time to head out there, so Seonghwa’s eatery ended up becoming the place for the townspeople to place orders for medicines and cures. Peace and quiet, San had joked when he’d turned down living with the rest of the crew in town.

Well, it’s certainly a bit too quiet now.

“Oi, San, don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” Wooyoung calls, banging the door with his fist. No one replies. “San! If you’re not going to let me in, I’m going to break in through your window.”

“You’re going to what now?”

Wooyoung turns around to see San standing behind him, one hand cocked on his hip and a bunch of lavender sprays under one arm. “I was only joking.” Wooyoung shrugs with an easy smile, stepping aside for San to unlock the front door. “You’re the one who wasn’t home when you said you would be.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly. “I was out gathering these.” He tosses them into Wooyoung’s hands before he rummages about in his apron pocket for the keys. “How were the kids today?”

“They’re filling up nicely, quite a few can read, and now all of them think that Hongjoong is a monster who sneaks about in the middle of the night and kidnaps children.”

San pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “He’s a what?”

Wooyoung shrugs, grinning. “Yeah.”

“Hongjoong’s going to have a fit when he finds out.” San ushers Wooyoung in through the open door. The apothecary is a small redbrick affair, a simple kitchen and living space connected to his far more sizeable workroom. San says he’s used to it after living on the Treasure for so long. Wooyoung shakes his head.

“He might like it. Yeosang made him sound tall.”

San snickers at Wooyoung’s words, tucking the lavender onto one of his shelves before he points to the many vials and bottles on the table. “Here, all the deliveries for today.” Wooyoung peers at the two empty coffee cups left out on the table.

“Someone came by earlier?”

San nods. “If you had just come earlier, you would have run into Hongjoong. His expedition should be starting anytime soon.” He grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “How does it feel heading back to sea again after three years?”

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung says, stepping around San to pack the medicines into his bag. The scent of lavender and ylang ylang are soothing, but nothing can quite beat the smell of the ocean. “Good, I suppose. I’ve been having strange dreams about the ocean anyway. Maybe it’s a sign.”

San pauses slightly, eyes glancing over at Wooyoung. “Strange dreams?” He repeats.

“Yeah, of a girl and the ocean. Weird, I know.” Wooyoung explains, hoping the dreams don’t sound too ridiculous. “I can never see her face, but whenever I see her, my chest feels warm. Light. Calm.” Then he chuckles, fingers wrapping tightly around the neck of a bottle. “The chains around my wrists, they just disappeared when I woke up on that island with Captain and Yeosang three years ago. I don’t know what happened, and I still can’t remember.”

Sudden, slight pain pulses through his heart and he grunts, one hand thumping his chest and San rushes to sit him down on a chair. “Don’t force yourself too hard.” San says quietly, handing Wooyoung a honey covered sweet. “Maybe it’ll take time.”

“I thought I’d get the urge to go to a brothel or something, but I just can’t bear the idea of chasing after a woman other than her.” Wooyoung struggles to explain. “I feel like I’m waiting for someone every time I walk past the ocean. And she doesn’t... she doesn’t even exist.”

San watches as Wooyoung runs a heavy hand through his hair, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “I told her you’d never be able to forget her, whether you remember her or not.” San murmurs under his breath, his heart breaking for his best friend. “When I see how much you’re hurting, though, I sometimes wish I was wrong.”

Wooyoung blinks up at him, confused, as he pops the sweet into his mouth. “Huh?”

San shakes his head. “Oh, no, nothing. Just thinking that Hongjoong came by this morning complaining of weird dreams too.”

Wooyoung gives him a half hearted glare, punching him lightly in the arm. “See, you could have just given the two of us check ups so much more easily if you’d just chosen to live with us. You could share a room with Jongho, you know. There’s no point to having two beds in your cramped bedroom.” He points at the two small beds on opposite sides of the house, and San hesitates for a moment.

He can’t very well say he’s clinging onto a hope, dreaming, waiting for a day someone no one else remembers will come home. He can’t say that it hurts when he wakes up into life of normalcy with the rest of the crew but without her there with them. He can’t say that if she’s not there, he’d rather be alone, where the rest of the crew isn’t there to remind him that he’s the only one who holds on to a past no one else remembers.

So instead, he replies casually, “Well, I got used to having two beds on the Treasure. Besides, it’s a good place to dry extra herbs when it happens to rain outside.”

“You like your space, I got it.” Wooyoung chuckles, rising to his feet. He turns back for a moment just as he’s stepping out of the door. “You’re coming by tonight to Seonghwa’s eatery for dinner?”

San nods seriously. “Of course! How could I miss a chance to look at baby Hwaseong... he called me ‘bubu’ on Monday!” The healer clasps his hands together, shaking his head at just how adorable that little angel is. “It reminds me of the days when Jongho was an cute baby too. Now he hasn’t even visited me for two days. That kid’s growing up the wrong way.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I heard from Yeosang that Jongho has been sailing out further these days hoping to catch sight of a giant squid monster locals have been talking about.” San pauses, fingers stilling on a spray of lavender at Jongho’s words.

“A... sea monster?”

“No need to be scared, you’re living all the way inland anyway.” Wooyoung teases, completely mistaking San’s anticipation for fear. “We might hear some of Jongho’s tales tonight if he catches sight of it. Well then,” he waves his bag of deliveries in one hand. “See you later.”

When Wooyoung leaves the house, San catches sight of the silver hairpin tucked into his belt just as the door closes behind him.

“He can’t remember you, yet he can’t let it go either.” San murmurs softly under his breath as he sits down on the bed opposite his, fingers gently brushing linen sheets. Waiting for someone to come home.

“Chin Hae, please... hurry home soon.”

>>>

The sun is just beginning to set when Wooyoung makes his last delivery for the day.

Making his way to Seonghwa’s eatery by the docks, he avoids the red light district and instead chooses to take the long way round by the sea shore. Footsteps quick and light, he’s hurrying along the beach just as his heart begin to throb once more.

“Ahh, ouch.” Wooyoung winces, face screwing up against the pain. Taking a seat in the sand, he quickly unwraps a painkiller that San had given him earlier and pops it into his mouth, biting down hard on it. The bitter taste spreads through his mouth and he gags. “Couldn’t he have made them a little sweeter?”

With a sigh, he lies back in the sand and waits for the pain to abate. They’ve been getting more acute and serious lately, along with the dreams.

Reaching down, he pulls out the silver hairpin in his belt and holds it up to the light of the setting sun. Orange fragments the second it strikes the aquamarine blue surface, the silver petals catching its light. At a single glance, Wooyoung can tell that it’s a beautiful, expensive piece.

But why would he have something like this?

Three years ago, right after they had been released from the Royal Navy after Hongjoong had signed that contract with them... San had given it to him with tears in his eyes, begging him to keep it with him at all times. For no reason at all, Wooyoung couldn’t understand either why he felt so much pain when he looked at it, and yet couldn’t bear to throw it away.

Up till now, Wooyoung still doesn’t know why.

With a sigh, Wooyoung tosses the hairpin up into the air, making to catch it again. All of a sudden, however, a seagull swoops down and grabs it away with its beak, before flying off towards the ocean.

“Hey!” Wooyoung shouts, scrambling to his feet. But the bird is already halfway out to sea, and all Wooyoung catches sight of is a glint of silver as it drops the hairpin into the ocean.

Wooyoung doesn’t know why he’s so furious. It’s just a hairpin, just a stick of metal, that’s all. And yet his heart throbs even more painfully than before, and he simply looks out over the ocean, feeling despondent. What is he going to do now?

Just as he’s thinking that, however, the tide shifts.

Confused, Wooyoung takes a step back as water washes over the tip of his boots. Is it natural for the tide to just rise suddenly like this? Frowning, he takes another step back, until he hears it.

At first, he thinks that his ears must be playing tricks on him. It sounds like a heartbeat from within the ocean, drums in the deep, every wave that rushes towards the shore keeping its slow rhythm. He looks up.

And sees a girl who was definitely not there less than a few seconds ago standing in the surf, reddish brown tentacles slowly slipping away from her form, sliding back into the sea and vanishing from sight. Wooyoung only stares.

She’s dressed in robes spun from sea silk, the fabric shining gold in the light of the setting sun. There’s a silver hairpin in her hand.

“I believe this belongs to you.” She says softly, and memories surge into his head like a tidal wave crashing onto shore.

Him pressing that hairpin in to her hand the day she got her name. Sitting on the yardam with her head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around his in the warmth of his pocket. The chains falling from his wrists, falling free away from their hold on his heart.

“When you come back, I promise I’ll tell you how I feel about you.”

“No, it’s yours.” Wooyoung manages to choke out, as he looks at her... no, you. He feels like if he says any more than that, he’ll break down into sobs. You smile at him, taking a step forward.

It’s another dream, isn’t it? He’s just fallen asleep on that beach and now he’s having the most beautiful dream in his life - that you’re back, that he remembers you, that you’re alive.

“Why are you crying? Not happy to see me?” Your voice is slightly teasing as you draw closer, and Wooyoung startles to feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

“No, no, I just... the opposite.” He chokes on a sob. One of your hands reach out to cup his cheeks, gently brushing the tears away from them. “I... I just... I... how...”

“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” You smile, pressing the hairpin into his palm, where he grips it tight. “Can you do my hair again for me?”

He nods wordlessly, unable to speak. You turn around and he takes a few strands of your hair with trembling fingers, lifting it to his lips in a silent, reverent kiss before he starts braiding it back. With every slide of his fingers, the warmth pressing against him starts to sink in bit by bit.

This is real.

You are real.

He’s crying again when he slides the hairpin into the updo to hold it in place. Upon hearing his soft sniffling, you turn around and take his face in your hands gently, prompting him to look into your eyes.

“I’ll keep my promise with you.” You say softly, smiling slightly. Wooyoung only cries louder, unable to find words to speak. “Wooyoung-ah, I love-”

He kisses you hard.

His lips move frantically against yours, deep and hard, as if he’s trying to confirm your existence, that you’re really here with him. He crushes you against him so tight he can feel your heart beat against his chest - you’re real.

There’s a girl, and she’s home.

[awakandanavenger]

Flu Fear - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Everyone’s been talking about the stomach flu going round. You’re worried you’ll get it and begin to panic. Wanda arrives back from a mission and comforts you. 

A/N - No gender specified I don’t think. 

Requested by eplioyak 

Everyone’s been talking about it. It’s going round and several people in the Compound have it! I’m talking about the stomach flu! If there’s one thing that scares me, it’s getting sick. I know I’m an Avenger so why would getting sick bother me when I fight bad guys all the time, but that’s not the point. My point I guess is that I’m fearful of getting sick because I cannot cope very well, especially when it is the flu. And the fact it means I’m forced to bed rest which stops me going on missions.

Anyway, after finding out several of the Avengers have got the stomach flu, I decided it was best to confine myself to my room. Once in the safety of my room, I decided to Google the symptoms just in case. Luckily, as of yet I have not been having any of them but the panic is still not dying down, mostly because I know that there’s still a chance that the symptoms could begin and I end up getting the stomach flu. 

After pondering those thoughts for a while, my stomach begins to growl. I know I can’t stay in here forever. I need food. Even if it means risking the chance of getting the stomach flu. I’ll just make some nice vegetable soup, then anyone can have it if they are sick. I’d just leave it in the pot for them. Also, Wanda is a vegetarian hence why I’m going to make vegetable soup instead of chicken soup, then she can have some too. 

Once I arrive in the kitchen, there is no one here luckily, all other available Avengers beside me have gone on a mission. They should be back tonight. Maybe I ought to warn them stomach flu is going round when they get back. Hmm, nah I can text Wanda to tell the others. As soon as the soup is made, I am taking it to my room and not coming out again until absolutely necessary. 

Time Skip 

The soup is now done and I use the ladle to pour myself a bowl full. Suddenly, a very sick looking Sam enters the kitchen. Man that guy looks like a zombie. “I’d say what smells good but I can’t smell at the moment.” He says to me with a blocked nose. He has the fever part, I assume his temperature is going to be high too. “Hold it Wilson! Back up! I don’t want to get sick because of you. I’ve left some vegetable soup for whoever wants it. It’ll help you get better.” He was about to speak, probably to say thanks but then he vomits in the bin. “Ew gross! I’m outta here!” I say taking my bowl of soup to my room. That was the last straw! I am not coming out of my room until either Wanda gets back or the stomach flu has completely gone. When I finish the soup I realise how tired I am and decide to go to sleep. Wanda should be back by then. 

I wake to the feel of being shaken. I open my eyes still feeling groggy. “Hey babe, you need to wake up.” My eyes widen quickly. “Hang on! Do you have the symptoms!?” I asked, more like stated in a half yell. “Symptoms of what?” She asks. “Err, the stomach flu that nearly everyone has.” “No, I’ve not long got back from the mission. Oh I see, you’re worried you’ll get sick so you’re hiding out aren’t you?” I nod. She knows I don’t care for things like this which is why making sure my food and water does not get contaminated since that’s apparently how you can get it. 

Wanda is quick to get under the covers with me and cuddle. She knows how I get when stuff like this goes around. “You do know even if you do get sick it’s not all bad.” I raise my eyebrow at her. “How so?” I’d like to see her response to that. “Well, I’ll take care of you as I’m certain you’d do the same for me. And I’ll get all your favourite drinks, snacks etc. and we can binge watch your favourite movie or tv show. I would even build our own fort as well.” “Yeah when you put it that way it’s not as bad. I still don’t want to get sick though.” “With me here, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She says and kisses me on the cheek. My mind is definitely more at ease now. “Oh, I left some vegetable soup in the pot if you want some, assuming there’s some left.” “I’ll grab some later. Right now I don’t wanna leave this bed.” With that, we cuddle further into each other and she falls asleep fairly quickly, I follow her into a peaceful slumber where my dreams await me. 

Hope You all Liked this one. Requests are still being taken! :)

[worldfoodfeast]

Cold-Brew Coffee Concentrate

SERVES3 (Makes about 1 1/2 cups, enough for 3 cups iced coffee)

TIME25 minutes, plus 24 hours resting

WHY THIS RECIPE WORKS

Coffee brewed between 195 and 205 degrees will contain more aroma compounds, dissolved solids, and flavor than coffee brewed at 72 degrees, but heat also extracts the bitterness and astringency found in coffee beans. The appeal of cold brew lies in its milder acidity and bitterness, which lets more of the dark chocolate, caramel, ripe black fruit, and vanilla flavors come to the fore.To make the best cold brew, we tried a number of out-there techniques, including near-continuous agitation and five-day-long extractions in the refrigerator. But in the end, we found that a simple steep in a French press was the best method. Using a high ratio of ground beans to water produced a concentrate that was easy to store and could be diluted as desired. After trying various brew times from 12 to 72 hours, we found that a 24-hour steep delivered the best flavor. Pouring the concentrate through a coffee filter–lined fine-mesh strainer ensured that it was free of sediment. Our finishing touch? A pinch of kosher salt, which rounded out the cold brew's flavors and further masked it’s already minimal bitterness.

9 ounces medium-roast coffee beans, ground coarse (3 1/2 cups)

3 ½ cups filtered water, room temperature

BEFORE YOU BEGIN

This concentrated coffee needs to be diluted before drinking. We recommend a 1:1 ratio of concentrate to water, but you can dilute it more if you like.

Stir coffee and water together in large (about 2-quart) glass French press. Allow raft of ground coffee to form, about 10 minutes, then stir again to recombine. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature for 24 hours.

2

Line fine-mesh strainer with coffee filter and set over large liquid measuring cup. Place lid on press and slowly and evenly press plunger down on grounds to separate them from coffee concentrate. Pour concentrate into prepared strainer. Line large bowl with triple layer of cheesecloth, with cheesecloth overhanging edge of bowl. Transfer grounds to cheesecloth. Gather edges of cheesecloth together and twist; then, holding pouch over strainer, firmly squeeze grounds until liquid no longer runs freely from pouch; discard grounds.

3

Using back of ladle or rubber spatula, gently stir concentrate to help filter it through strainer. Concentrate can be refrigerated in jar with tight-fitting lid for up to 1 week.

To Make Iced Coffee: Combine equal parts coffee concentrate and cold water. Add pinch kosher salt, if using, and pour into glass with ice.

[mshermia]

Christmas Eve - At Peace

That holiday-themed story that I will totally blame @superherotiger for making me procrastinate with ;)

###

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd know how it works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.

Baseline: circa 5 months after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

###

The sky above him was clear. No clouds. No moon. Above him only the stars. The stars, he still avoided looking at too much. It made the night a little colder, a little darker despite the white snowy blanket covering the hills and trees.

It wasn't that Tony minded the solitude, quite the opposite. That had been the idea behind moving out to the cabin after all. Peace and quiet. Less exposure. Privacy. But of all the places on their property, why did the kid have to go there?

In all fairness, there was nothing quiet or peaceful about what was going on at Tony's house right now. There were 13 people gathered in his living room and kitchen, one of them a black-eyed alien who didn't quite understand the concept of Christmas but had been positively eager to experience all the "merriment and joy" that the little Madame Secretary had been promising from afar. Leave it to Tony to have to explain a spaceship landing in his backyard on Christmas Eve and talk down an international response.

"Morgan said it's an important gathering that every family member is obligated to attend." Nebula's eyes were on Tony, unblinking. "You should have told me sooner. I could have been here last year and the year before but I didn't know."

"Not to worry, Smurfette." There was a sense of genuine joy at seeing her again, that let the smile on his lips come quite easily. "You're here now, so that's that."

It was a sight to be seen how willingly the blue meanie allowed Morgan to put a party hat on her before she was sent off to mingle with the rest of them, studying the mini hot dogs on her plate. That hadn't been the only surprising sight of the evening though. Tony's jaw had equally popped with stunned surprise as he opened the door to a paler and distinctly shorter human version of Bruce Banner. A face Tony hadn't seen on him in years, as he showed up on his doorstep accompanied by a certain master spy that Tony had frankly not been expecting either.

"Making things work then," Tony mused out loud as he hovered next to them while Pepper fetched a welcoming drink.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Just... you know... happy to... to have her back."

"Of course." His head bobbed a short nod with a sincere smile in Natasha's direction. There was no denying that Tony, too, was glad to have her back. Retired or not, he had no illusions that the Avengers would remain anything but a constant in his life one way or another and while Natasha might never be a definite number on his side, she was an ally. Of sorts.

"Well, it's good to see you guys. I know it's quite a drive out here and we had suspected things might be a little more entertaining at the Compound." His thoughts still trailing a little behind, the words had slipped off his tongue before his brain could catch up with what he was saying. He hadn't meant to just straight up mention the Compound, the rest of the team by extension who hadn't received an invite to this particular gathering.

Pepper had wanted to discuss the guest list more than once. Had asked him repeatedly if he wanted to extend an invitation to the others, the team... but Rogers... Steve... no. Christmas was for family and while Bruce and his plus one did count - because Tony wanted him to count - Steve... Steve was not family. When it came down to it, they were hardly even friends. Natasha's eyes were on him and Tony was painfully aware that he was spacing out. No glasses to hide his face, all of a sudden he felt almost too exposed in his own house.

"Oh, we're just splitting the time equally over the holidays." Natasha smiled brightly. "Christmas Eve with one side of the family and then Christmas Day with the other."

Bruce's face fell a little, looking back and forth between them. "It's not sides as much as... just..."

They were saved from more awkwardness as Pepper arrived with the drinks and ushered them further into the house. Bruce was happy to follow along but Natasha hung back, her eyes still on Tony.

"There don't have to be any sides in this." She linked their arms, pushing Tony along, as Bruce shot a glance back at them, just out of earshot. "You can just decide to let it go, Tony."

"I did." It wasn't all that easy to keep the tone light but he was determined not to let this get to him. "I told him, I moved on from all of this years ago."

"We both know that's not the same as solving the real problem." Her voice was low but not unkind. "We both know you never forgave or forget, that he has never earned back your trust."

It didn't matter. He didn't even want to think about how much of that was or wasn't true. Rogers had no place in his thoughts tonight. So the timing was perfect when his eyes came to rest on a brown-haired boy who was creeping closer and closer to the pot of mulled wine. With a lame excuse, he pulled away from Natasha, away from the world he had officially retired from towards the buffet.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" The boy's eyes were wide, the cup in his hand already filled to the brim.

"Listen here, squirrel!" His finger poking against Harley's chest, Tony could at least pretend that this was a situation he could actually control. "You take your grabby hands off that mulled wine or so help me..." He snatched the hot drink out of the boy's hands.

"Oh, come on..." His long lashes were blinking at Tony with feigned innocence. "It's not for me."

"That routine might work on some indifferent cater waiter at those benefits but if you think I can't see past your ridiculously lazy—"

"Yeah, yeah..." Harley just waved him off. "Don't be such a killjoy!"

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

"Uh-huh. Sure. I'll get it to him and you can enjoy your night without any errands, hm?"

Tony made a point to stare at the kid until he huffed and finally skedaddled away from the wine pot, possibly in search of his sister, or maybe more likely trying to stay out of her and Morgan's way. Careful not to spill either of the two cups, Tony made his way across the room towards Rhodey who had brought a "friend", a development Tony had been mindful not to comment on all night.

The Colonel's eyes looked him up and down as he made a beeline towards them. "Because one is never enough with you, is it, Tones?"

"You..." he hissed, his lips pursed. "You better not try to quip with me, you enabler!" Tony pushed the second cup he was holding into Carol Danvers' hands instead of Rhodey's. "Are you seriously letting my boy use you as an exit strategy to score a buzz?"

Rhodey's eyes shifted to the cup in his "friend" Carol's hands before he nipped on what was left in his own cup and then gave a shrug. "Which one?"

"That's not funny!"

With a deep sigh, Rhodey exchanged his empty cup with Carol's hot one. "Tony, you need to lay off the mother-hen vibes. The boy is 21 years old, as for Peter—."

"No, he's not," Tony growled. "Not for another 6 days!"

"Geez, daddy, do I really have to remind you how old you were when I 'enabled'," Rhodey air-quoted, "your ass in college?"

He said it like he had a point when that was exactly what Tony was afraid of. "And how did that turn out?"

His eyebrows pulled up, Rhodey made a gesture like that would somehow prove something, but Tony was not in the mood for semantics. His eyes roamed across the room - pointedly ignoring Harley who tried to usher Nebula closer and closer to the pot of hot wine - in search of the other little trouble maker.

Where was the kid? He hadn't seen him since... since he had ducked away from awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth between May and Happy. Without another word, Tony strode past his friend, checking the kitchen but there was no Peter in there either. Everyone else was happily chatting, eating, enjoying themselves exactly like they were supposed to. Not so the Spiderling.

For a few more minutes, Tony quietly, discreetly wandered around the house. He had a feeling, a feeling that something was up. It didn't take long for him to give up the pretense and outright mutter to FRIDAY, asking in which room Peter was hiding.

"He's not in the house, boss." 

That was how Tony found himself outside, stalking up a snowy hill in the dark. The wind was icy, but it wasn't the cold that made the hair on the back of his neck stand tall. He had avoided this for months. Had avoided even thinking about that spot on the hill where his other-dimensional self had been buried before he ever made it to this timeline. With how loudly his brain was rattling, there was a part of him that couldn't deny that right about now, he appreciated the silence in the dark. They were so far away from what people would call the 'civilized' world out here. Surely, with Peter's senses constantly strained in the city, that was the basic appeal to him as well.

It was also how Peter had heard him coming before Tony even had the chance to call out to him.

"How did you find me?"

A little winded from the slippery ascend to the hilltop, Tony paused a couple of steps behind where the boy was sitting in the snow. "Oh, come on... It's me."

Peter pursed his lips, refusing to turn his head. "So, you questioned every single person at the house about when they had seen me last and then calculated the radius of how far I might have come?"

Tony only blew out a huff.

"Ah," Peter exclaimed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Tracking me after all, aren't you."

"Well, duh." Slowly, Tony came closer until he sank to the ground right next to the boy. "Not that I needed it. You're a Spiderling, not an Elf, kid."

"Right." Peter grimaced to himself. "Footprints."

"I keep telling you. Gotta learn how to fly."

The smile that tucked on Peter's lips seemed genuine this time. "You didn't have to come out here."

All of a sudden, Tony contemplated that the boy may have picked this particular spot not because of what it meant to him, but because he had been sure that of all the places, few of the people staying at the house that night would voluntarily wander up here. Tony least of all. There was no denying that the kid had picked up on how much this all freaked Tony out, the fact that there was a dead version of himself buried so close to where he still lived. Silence hung heavy between them before Tony's voice echoed a little quieter, a little hesitant.

"I wasn't sure if I should, but..." He swallowed hard. "I can leave if you want to be alone." 

There was another pause. Wanting to give him room to speak if that was what he wanted, Tony waited but the kid didn't say a thing.

With a shaky exhale, Tony kept his eyes on him. "But then I thought, I'd rather have you send me back than not be here if... if you would need me."

The kid's eyes were still staring straight ahead at the headstone in front of them.

"I know, I'm not him—"

"Of course you are," Peter breathed quietly.

Tony lowered his gaze, faltering. Maybe. "Not really though."

The kid's lip was caught between his teeth, refusing to look over at him. "In... in every way that matters."

"If you want to talk about it—"

"I don't," Peter mumbled.

It had been weeks after he had come back when Tony's curiosity had won out against his anxiety. Late at night on his own in the basement, he had asked FRIDAY to play him the footage of what had happened that day. That day he had died. Pepper, the kid, Rhodey... seeing their agony in the face of what he had done to protect them... it was a memory he just couldn't shake.

"I know, me being here doesn't change what happened. Kid, I know you were there when he..." Tony glanced to the side, searching the kid's face for a reaction. "...when I died."

Peter's head moved in a mixture of a shake and a shrug. "It... it doesn't matter..." His voice shook, possibly trying to convince himself as much as Tony. "You're back. You're... here. It... it's fine..."

"You're sitting at my grave in the freezing cold in the middle of my Christmas Eve party, buddy."

It was as bluntly as he could put it. He could see no benefit in tiptoeing around the demons the kid was battling.

But Peter shook his head more distinctly this time, still denying him. "It was just because... so many people and my senses, they... I just needed a little quiet to... calm down."

"Right. We have about 60 hectares of land out here and still..." Tony blew out a breath and leaned a little closer to the kid. "Still, this is the spot you picked to go." There was no answer from the Spiderling. "It's okay, if it still hurts, buddy."

The humorless chuckle that bubbled out of the kid didn't make things better for either of them.

"Pete, can you look at me?"

He didn't though. His eyes didn't stray from the inscription on the stone. 'A.E.S. - At peace.' A shudder went through Tony at the thought of how his wife had decided on that particular inscription.

"You're here." Peter's eyes dropped further, away from the stone, down to the snowy ground. "You're okay. It... it shouldn't matter..."

Tony grit his teeth then threw caution to the wind. "It's been 5 years and a little more than 8 months since you dusted in my arms, Pete."

The kid visibly shook next, his hands braced against the cold ground as he finally turned to look at Tony. 

"5 years, 8 months, and some odd days." Tony's lower lip was caught between his teeth, his cheeks flushed. The images in his mind were as vivid as they had been on that fateful day on Titan. "You're here now. You're back. You have been back for 6 months and I can still hear your voice in my head pleading how you don't—"

"I'm sorry..." the kid whispered.

Tony huffed out a low chuckle. "Yeah. You said that too."

"I'm sorry that... that you felt responsible," the kid started and Tony had just wanted to protest when the boy stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I am, but it's not the same."

For a brief moment, Tony closed his eyes, trying his best to calm himself and keep the dry bite from his tone. "No. It really isn't the same."

The breath Peter blew out was harsher, angrier. "It's not, because I didn't choose to get dusted," he growled, refusing to look away from Tony now. "I didn't want to die!"

"I know, Pete. I remember." The beat of his heart hurt in his chest. "You think I would have wanted to die?"

Peter shook his head, tearing his gaze away again. "It doesn't matter."

"Kid—"

"Can we just... I don't want to argue about this."

Peter pulled his knees close to his chest and the way his hands were shaking made Tony want to drag him back inside so he could focus on giving him a proper lecture without having to worry about the cold the kid might catch out here. 

Instead, he filed that back for later, deep breaths keeping his own frustration in check. "Maybe we do need to argue about this."

"I just want to move on!"

"And I..." Tony couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "...would really appreciate a chance to argue my side here."

"You don't need to argue your side," the kid hissed at him. "It's not you, I'm mad at, okay?"

Tony studied his boy. He was becoming painfully aware, how strung up the kid really was, how agitated. "It's not a choice anyone wants to make, kid. Sometimes, there is just no other way to —"

"There were like 10 people close by who could have done it." Peter shot him an angry glance. "It didn't have to be you! What about Morgan and Pepper, huh? What about—" He shook his head, eyes back on the snow-covered grave. "Captain Danvers. Thor. King T'Challa. The lady with the flying horse. Strange. Rogers. Barnes. Wanda Maximoff. Me." His head spun back towards Tony. "I could have tried."

Tony's stomach turned at the mere thought of that. "Yeah, there's no way in hell, Pete."

"Why not?" Peter's eyes burned with tears. "Why not! I could have taken it!"

"You have no idea if that's true." His heart was racing, his throat dry. "You might have died."

"So it's fine for you to sacrifice yourself on a whim but for me it—"

"Stop!" The way his hand hit the ground didn't have the grand effect he wanted. "That's not how this will work, kid. Ever. I will always try to keep you safe."

"And what about what I want?" Peter spat at him.

Tony shook his head, his eyebrows knitted close, desperately grasping for control. "I'm here now, am I not?"

"Yeah, for now..."

Any frustrated retort that might have been building up on his tongue died instantly as he watched the boy rub a hand across his face, the way his lower lip was quivering.

 "Kid... come here..." His agitation evaporated and without another beat of hesitation, Tony pulled him close, his arms tightly wrapped around the boy's small frame. "Shh, it'll... it'll be alright."

There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do that would take away the pain of the days when he had seemed lost forever to the people who loved him most. Just like Tony would never be able to quite shake the deep sense of loss he had carried for years when the kid had been dead and gone. 

Peter's hands were clasping the thick fabric of Tony's coat, his face pressed against his chest.

There was nothing he could say, no promises he would make, not the ones the kid wanted to hear right now cause he could never keep any of them. When it came to the kid's safety, his life, he would always put it above his own. No matter how much it might hurt him again, at least the kid would be breathing, would get to live.

"I'm sorry, buddy."

"But... but you're not," he mumbled against Tony's jacket.

He had a hand on the back of the kid's head, holding him tight. "I hate that I hurt you, Pete. I do." He pressed his eyes close, ignoring how the cold was creeping up from underneath him. "But I'll never apologize for trying to keep you safe." The boy shook in his arms, but Tony didn't let him pull away. "I sure as hell won't apologize for succeeding." There was a low tremor in the kid's body that was definitely more than emotions. "You're shaking, buddy. Let's get you back inside."

"I'm not c-cold," Peter hiccoughed.

"Alright, then..." Tony ruffled a hand through the boy's hair, his own digits frozen stiff. "Well, I'm going to get pneumonia and you seem to be very invested in—" He groaned as Peter slapped a hand against his chest.

"It's not f-funny!"

"No, at my age it really isn't something—"

This time, he caught the kid's hand just in time to soften the blow. In the process, Peter sat up straight enough for Tony to squint at his red-rimmed eyes.

"In there, you could watch me bust Harley for sneaking around the mulled wine?" There was a sparkle in the kid's eyes at that. A real sparkle he couldn't quite hide. "Ha! Knew I'd get you with that one."

Peter moved back a bit, shaky fingers rubbing his face. Squinting at the boy, Tony was weighing his words, wondering how many hornet's nest he should be poking at.

"You should get over this, buddy." Tony cringed at the look of utter discomfort on his boy's face. "I mean it. That little power struggle the two of you are going through..?"

"There's no power struggle."

Tony crocked his head at him. "You know what I mean... Kid, I know you want to keep your secrets but Harley can be a great ally to you."

"Right," Peter mumbled. "Can we just like... do this another time?"

He nodded before the kid had even finished the sentence. "Course, buddy." For a moment, Tony held in, his focus never anywhere else but Peter, as he tried to control the tremor in his voice. "So, we should get back inside, right?"

"Yeah. Right." The kid leaned back against him, his voice muffled. "Just... just a couple more minutes?"

Tony swallowed hard, nodding soundlessly. He'd never refuse the kid. Never. How could he ever?

 ###

Merry Christmas and happy holidays wherever and however you guys are celebrating!

Thank you for reading. And thank you even more if you take the time to let me know in the comments what you think about the story and reblog it!

This story is part of my Post-Endgame timeline. More about my Endgame Fix-it and the connected series of stories: “Like You’d Know How It Works” timeline 

[chanoyu-to-wa]

Nampō Roku, Book 5 (25):  the Display of the Sorori [ソロリ]¹, Gōsu [合子]², and Shishi [獅子]³.

25) Sorori ・ gōsu ・ shishi no kazari [ソロリ・合子・獅子ノ飾]⁴.

[The writing (between the ten-ita and the ji-ita, from right to left) reads:  ni ・ ya-gaku shishi (二・夜學獅子)⁵; ichi ・ sorori (一・ソロリ)⁶; san ・ gōsu (三・合子)⁷; furo-kama tsune no (風爐釜常ノ)⁸; (below the daisu) Nōami no shoji san-shu ha, momo-jiri no shaku-tate ・ mimi-guchi no koboshi ・ Rinzai-in no futaoki (能阿彌ノ所持三種ハ、桃尻ノ杓立・耳口ノコホシ・臨濟印ノ蓋置)⁹.]

    The kaki-ire [書入]¹⁰:

① There are various ways to handle [these three utensils], each of which represents a [different] way to treasure [them].  [Because of this range of practices,] it is difficult to record the ku-den in absolute terms, point by point¹¹.  However, a white towel should be used¹².

② This [shows the case where] three utensils [are arranged on the ji-ita] -- the mizusashi having been left out.  They should be handled in the same way [even] if only one or two are used¹³.

   The [lid of the] kama should always [be handled] with the damp cloth¹⁴.

③ At that time¹⁵, a [meibutsu] koboshi is not lowered [to the mat during the temae].  This is the difference between [when a meibutsu koboshi is being used, and] an ordinary koboshi¹⁶.

④ With respect to the five meibutsu utensils, it is said that there are two of each¹⁷.

￮ Kama:  sha-jiku [車軸]; kiri [桐]¹⁸.

￮ Shaku-tate:  sorori [ソロリ]; kōji-guchi [柑子口]¹⁹.

￮ Mizusashi:  mumon [無紋]; minna-guchi [皆口]²⁰.

￮ Koboshi:  gōsu [合子]; sori-guchi [ソリ口]²¹.

￮ Futaoki:  ya-gaku shishi [夜學獅子]; mikotonori-no-shirushi [勅印]²².

￮ As for the furo, there was the large Chōsen [大朝鮮]; and again, the shishi-no-dai [獅子ノ臺], and so on²³.

    Also with respect to the [above] five utensils, if [only] one or two of them are used, they should be handled in the same way [that is described in this entry]²⁴.

    The futaoki is placed on the nagaita, beside the furo:  while it should be in the usual place, [futaoki] should [also] be drawn slightly forward²⁵.

⑤ And again, from the beginning²⁶, a meibutsu futaoki is placed in the seat usually occupied by the koboshi²⁷.

    [In this case] an ordinary koboshi should be carried out [from the katte] and stood [on the mat].  At that time, the futaoki remains [on the ji-ita] as it was, in the place [usually occupied by] the koboshi; however, it should be drawn a little forward²⁸.

_________________________

◎ Due to the length of the text and commentaries, it was impossible to also include photographs of the various utensils that are mentioned in this entry in a single post.  Consequently, I was forced to upload them into an appendix, which will be published on Sunday morning, shortly after this post appears.

    Also, it seems that the author or authors of the kaki-ire had attempted to include too much information in their remarks, while simultaneously trying to make them as brief as possible -- for while the sketch shows three meibutsu kaigu arranged on the ji-ita, the kaki-ire address cases where only one or two of them are displayed, resulting in admonitions which conflict with the way the arrangement in the sketch should be handled*.

    Furthermore (as is often the case), the contents of the kaki-ire are not well organized†; and, in one case, it appears that someone‡ has transposed one sentence, resulting in even more confusion.  I will attempt to resolve these issues in my comments. ___________ *Specifically:

◦ when a meibutsu koboshi is displayed alone (or together with a meibutsu shaku-tate), then the meibutsu koboshi occupies the central kane during the service of tea;

◦ when a meibutsu futaoki is displayed alone (or together with a shaku-tate), the meibutsu futaoki occupies the central kane during the service of tea;

◦ but when both a meibutsu koboshi and a meibutsu futaoki are used at the same time (whether or not a meibutsu shaku-tate is also present), they obviously could not both occupy the central kane:  in this case, the koboshi must be lowered to the mat, but placed in front of the furo (rather than near the host’s hip), while the futaoki occupies the central kane on the daisu.

    While the first two cases are discussed in the kaki-ire, the last -- which is, in fact, the situation that is depicted in Jōō’s sketch -- is not mentioned at all, leaving the reader with the impression that, somehow, both the koboshi and the futaoki are supposed to be arranged on the ji-ita during the temae.  More will be said on this in the footnotes, below.

†They consist of the usual hodgepodge of unrelated ideas, yet no attempt was made to segregate these through the use of punctuation.

‡Perhaps by Tachibana Jitsuzan.

    But what complicates things even further is that Shibayama Fugen’s teihon [底本] (which was one of the four authorized copies of the Enkaku-ji manuscript that were made while Jitsuzan was alive) appears to have restored the proper order to this passage (what seems to have been one long kaki-ire, according to Shibayama, was divided into three kaki-ire in the Enkaku-ji manuscript; and the transposition -- which seems to have been the result of Jitsuzan’s having lost his place -- moved the sentence referring to “the handling of the kama with a damp cloth” from its original place to a spot in between the second and third kaki-ire).

¹Sorori [ソロリ].

    This refers to a bronze vase* with a relatively wide mouth, that was used as a shaku-tate.

    The shape is very similar to the momo-jiri [桃尻] that is mentioned elsewhere in this entry.  The sorori pieces seem to be identified with Korea, while those designated momo-jiri came from Ming dynasty China†. __________ *Originally part of a set of implements used to decorate the altar during Ancestor Worship ceremonies, consisting of a pair of flower vases, a pair of candlesticks, an assortment of footed bowls (some with covers, and others without) and plates, and small sake cups with matching bronze dai, a large lidded vessel in which the shirazaki [白酒] (sake with the white rice flour from which it was fermented left in suspension) was kept, a small bronze rest on which the ladle with which the shirazaki was dipped out and poured into offertory cup was rested, and a deep bowl-like vessel into which the libations were discarded after being offered to the Ancestors (each member of the family approached the altar and offered a cup of shira-zake to the Ancestors, so discarding the libation allowed the ceremonial cup to be reused -- since many traditional families had large numbers of members).

    While sets of similar pieces (there were differences, however, in the sizes and purposes of some of the things) were also made in China, it seems that most of those that came to be used as kaigu on the daisu originated in Korea.  This is because, in Korea, it was the custom to melt down and recast the entire set whenever one piece was lost or damaged (and so, when a set of outstanding craftsmanship was destined to be recycled, occasionally one piece would be kept back for use on the daisu).

†The momo-jiri came in two versions:  one with bas relief decorations, and one without.

²Gōsu [合子].

    The gōsu was made as a covered bowl used during Ancestor Worship ceremonies, the gōsu was used as a mizu-koboshi (originally with the lid present, which accounts for the special way that the gōsu is prepared for display on the daisu).

    Originally the word gōsu [盒子]* referred to a set of three objects:  a rice-bowl, its lid, and a shallower soup-bowl (the three nesting together, and this is what the name describes).  And while the soup-bowl could be used as a koboshi (the original “hira-kensui” [平建水] were the soup-bowls from such sets), the word gōsu generally refers to the rice-bowl (including its lid), when used as a koboshi. ___________ *Gōsu [合子] means something like “matched set.”  The lid sits on top of the rice-bowl, and this assembly is placed inside the (empty) soup bowl.

The word karakane could be written “唐銅” or “韓銅” -- the former means “Tang bronze,” while the latter means “Korean bronze.”  Unfortunately, the Japanese seem to prefer to eliminate all references to Korea, in so far as that is possible, thus the “Tang” form of the kanji compound is what is usually seen in books.  Nevertheless, most of the classical “karakane hanaire” seem to have been made in Korea.  The authentic Chinese bronzes used in chanoyu appear to be of Ming period origin.  The Ming version of this alloy usually has a distinctly soft feeling (which cannot be conveyed in a photograph).

³Shishi [獅子].

    This refers to a kind of ya-gaku [夜學]*, shaped like (or decorated with an image of) a shishi [獅子] (the mythical Chinese lion-dog).  The original ya-gaku shishi [夜學獅子]† seems to have been lost without any sketches of it having survived into the Edo period.  That said, there is an ancient Korean stone lantern which features the fire box held up by a pair of shishi, standing on their hind legs stomach to stomach, and the shape was imitated (in cast bronze) in miniature, as the support for the saucer of oil.

    Beautifully made ya-gaku were often used as futaoki‡, and this is its purpose here. __________ *A ya-gaku [夜學] is a small metal or ceramic stand placed inside a night-light, on which the saucer of oil was rested.  Elevating the flame to the middle of the shade provided significantly more light than if the saucer were simply placed on the floor of the lamp.  Consequently, lamps including these little stands seem to have been preferred for reading at night, hence the name (ya-gaku [夜學] literally means “studying at night”).

†This is how it is named on the sketch.

‡Among the futaoki shichi-shu [蓋置七種], the ko-toku / gotoku [火卓・五德] and mi-kan-jin / mitsu-ningyō [三閑人・三ツ人形] were originally made as ya-gaku.  Both their size, and shape (which was designed to support a saucer with a rounded bottom), made them perfectly suited to this use.

⁴Sorori ・ gōsu ・ shishi no kazari [ソロリ・合子・獅子ノ飾].

    This entry describes several sets of meibutsu kaigu, and the way they may be arranged on the ji-ita in order to “treasure” them.

    Kaigu made as sets only seem to have appeared during the second half of the sixteenth century.  One of the earliest (featuring matsu-gasa kan-tsuki [松笠鐶付]) was ordered from Korea by the Hosokawa family.  The kan-tsuki on the mizusashi and furo that are part of this set seem to have been the inspiration for the matsu-gasa kan-tsuki on Rikyū’s second small unryū-gama.

⁵Ni ・ ya-gaku shishi [二・夜學獅子].

    “Second, the ya-gaku shishi.”

    In other words, when arranging the kaigu on the daisu, the ya-gaku shishi is added second (after the sorori).

⁶Ichi ・ sorori [一・ソロリ].

    “First, the sorori.”

    Naturally, the furo and kama were set up at the beginning, before the guests entered the room*.  The point is that, in order to draw special attention to them, the kaigu are brought out later -- after the guests have taken their seats.

    With respect to the sorori [曾呂利]† versus the momo-jiri [桃尻], the two shapes are -- as I mentioned above -- very similar.  The sorori swells more gently from the mouth to the hips, and has its widest point closer to the foot; the momo-jiri (this name means “peach hips”), on the other hand, is likened to the way a woman’s waste swells to her hips, and the way her upper legs narrow below the buttocks. __________ *In the early days, there was no sumi-temae (in the sense of something performed in front of the guests).  When it was time to serve tea, the guests were invited into the shoin, where everything was already ready, so the host simply approached the daisu and prepared the tea for his guests.

    The “idea” for the cha-kai [茶會] -- where the host first performs the sumi-temae, then serves a meal, and then offers the guests kashi (all while the water in the kama is heating), followed by a naka-dachi, with the guests returning for koicha, and then usucha -- was devised by Jōō, based directly on the Shino family's kō-kai [香會].  (In the original Shino version of the kō-kai, the gathering began with the appreciation of incense -- which started with the host bringing out burning charcoal and preparing the hand-held censer, after which several varieties of kyara [伽羅] were appreciated -- followed by a meal, kashi, and a naka-dachi, after which the guests came back for tea, before returning to their homes.  In this case, the tea things were brought out and set up during the naka-dachi, so the kama was already boiling appropriately when the guests returned from the naka-dach.)

    At Jōō's gatherings, the daisu was usually displayed in the tokonoma during the shoza (without the furo or kama), mirroring the Shino’s display of the incense tana during the goza (when tea was served); the furo and kama were arranged on a shiki-ita that was placed on the utensil mat (this was intended to protect the daisu from both charcoal dust -- which is highly abrasive to lacquer -- and sparks that occasionally erupt from the charcoal as it begins to catch fire), and the sumi-temae was performed there.  During the naka-dachi, the daisu was moved onto the utensil mat and the furo was lifted into position.  In this case, however, the daisu was probably kept in the katte until the naka-dachi, since the kaigu were brought out and arranged only after the goza had begun.

    With respect to the Shino school of incense, the various incense games that now constitute that school's curriculum, were incorporated during the Edo period (after the original Korean family -- with which Jōō and Rikyū had been affiliated -- died out, and the school was carried on by their Japanese disciples):  the changes were made to bring the Shino practices into line with the other, purely Japanese, incense traditions.  The Korean approach to both tea and incense was directed at the meditative aspects of these things (the original idea seems to have been to approach samadhi through one of the senses -- smell, in the case of incense, and taste, in the case of chanoyu), while the traditional Japanese practices were strictly courtly competitions, at which one contestant was expected to triumph over the rest of the field, and usually rewarded accordingly.

†The kanji-name sorori [曾呂利] is composed exclusively of hentai-gana (in other words, the kanji-compound has no actual meaning; it simply borrows the phonemes of the three kanji to write the sound of the name:  hentai-gana means to use kanji as if they were kana).  The word sorori is explained as meaning “an elegant shape.”

⁷San ・ gosu [三・合子].

    “Third, the gōsu.”

    The gōsu* is brought out and placed on the daisu third.

    The reader should understand that the places in which these objects were disposed are sometimes used only when the daisu is being set up.  After the host has finished, the guests would come forward and inspect the arrangement before the host can begin the service of tea.  Between this haiken of the ji-ita, and the sō-rei, some of the meibutsu kaigu will have their positions changed. ___________ *When the gōsu is used with its lid -- which was the original way things were done -- one hishaku of cold water should always be poured inside it before it is brought out and arranged on the daisu.  And, at the end of the temae, after the gōsu has been cleaned, it is returned to the daisu, again containing one hishaku of cold water.

    This rule is of ancient standing, though it has largely been forgotten since the lid was dispensed with (in the Edo period).

    Also, when the lid is used, it must naturally be opened before water can be discarded into the koboshi.  To do this, the host grasps the knob of the lid with his right hand, with his thumb on the far side of the knob.  The lid is lifted upward while its orientation is changed, so that it is now held vertically above the mouth of the gōsu (the thumb will now be above, while the first-finger is below).  With the left hand, the bottom edge of the lid is wiped free of any drops of water that may drain there, and then the lid is lowered to the ji-ita, and leaned against the front of the gōsu.  To close the lid, at the end of the temae, the knob is grasped (with the thumb above, and first-finger below), and then simply closed (there is no need to wipe the lower edge at this time).

    If the gōsu is placed on the mat during the temae, the same rules of usage apply.  (Furuta Sōshitsu seems to have been fond of using the gōsu, even when serving tea in the wabi small room setting.  Nevertheless, Oribe held that, even at that time, the gōsu should be used with its lid, in account of which it should always contain one hishaku of cold water.)

    Because of the lid, and the water, the host must be very careful when carrying the gōsu into, and out of, the room, to avoid splashing the water against the lid (which subsequently could drip out).

⁸Furo-kama tsune no [風爐釜常ノ].

    “The furo and kama are ordinary ones.”

    In other words, the furo and kama are not supposed to be meibutsu pieces (unlike the other three objects that will be arranged on the ji-ita at the beginning of this temae).

    It is important to mention that this arrangement does rely on using a furo that does not have kan-tsuki, since that will allow the furo to be pushed farther toward the left (and so allow room for the mizu-koboshi to be arranged as a mine-suri [峰摺り] on the central kane).  While the original furo that was made for use on the daisu was most certainly a bronze kimen-buro, in fact, most chajin of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were using lacquered clay furo on their daisu, and the expression “tsune no” would most aptly apply to such do-buro [土風爐].

    Some scholars have speculated that this phrase was only intended to mean that “the kama and furo are arranged as usual,” but, in fact, the formula used in Book Five of the Nampō Roku to mean just that is furo-kama jo-jō [風爐釜如常] or shita jo-jō [下如常].  These scholars have allowed themselves to be influenced (or, we might venture, confused) by the second kaki-ire (which lists the meibutsu utensils that were part of the Higashiyama collection).  However, that kaki-ire seems to have been added at a different date, and its text has no relationship with the first kaki-ire.  (Indeed, the second kaki-ire, as well as the fifth, are, to a certain extent, internally inconsistent, suggesting that they were not intact texts, but represent notes that were added to by different hands, at different times, to address points or answer questions that really have nothing to do with the sketch itself -- as is frequently the case with these kaki-ire.  The problem of interpretation arises only if we assume that all of the kaki-ire were present on Jōō’s sketches, and that the kaki-ire were added by Jōō to explain what he was drawing -- and neither of those suppositions appear to be true.)

⁹Nōami no shoji san-shu ha, momo-jiri no shaku-tate ・ mimi-kuchi no koboshi ・ Rinzai-in no futaoki [能阿彌ノ所持三種ハ、桃尻ノ杓立・耳口ノコホシ・臨濟印ノ蓋置].

    “The three utensils owned by Nōami:  the momo-jiri no shaku-tate ・ mimi-kuchi no koboshi ・ Rinzai-in futaoki.”

    While the set of kaigu shown in the sketch consisted of the above-mentioned sorori (shaku-tate), gōsu (mizu-koboshi), and ya-gaku shishi (futaoki), Nōami's set included the momo-jiri shaku-tate [桃尻杓立], mimi-kuchi koboshi [耳口飜], and Rinzai-in futaoki [臨濟印蓋置].  Interestingly, Yoshimasa’s set was composed of all Korean pieces, while the kaigu owned by Nōami (who was of Korean ancestry, and may have emmigrated from the continent in his youth) consisted of Chinese pieces.

    This is not really a kaki-ire (which is why I did not include it there), but simply a description of an alternate historical set of kaigu.

¹⁰The texts of the kaki-ire read:

① Iro-iro ashirai, sore-zore shōgan ari, ku-den ichi-ichi shirusu gatai, shiro-fukin wo mochiiru

[色〻アシライ、ソレ〰賞玩アリ、口傳一〻記カタシ、白布巾ヲ用ル].

② Kore ha mizusashi ryakushite san-shu nari, ichi ni tsuke no gotoku atsukau nari, kama ha itsu mo shimeri-kin ni te

[コレハ水指畧シテ三種也、一二付ノコトクアツカフ也、釜ハイツモシメリ巾ニテ].

③ Kono toki koboshi orosu-koto nashi, tsune no koboshi to ha betsu nari

[コノ時コホシヲロスコトナシ、常ノコホシトハ別也].

④ Meibutsu no go-dōgu ha ni gu arishi to iu-iu ￮　kama, sha-jiku ・ kiri ￮　shaku-tate, sorori ・ kōji-guchi ￮　mizusashi, mumon ・ minna-guchi ￮　koboshi, gōsu ・ sori-guchi ￮　futaoki, ya-gaku shishi ・ mikotonori-no-shirushi ￮　furo ha, dai-chōsen mata ha shishi-no-dai nado tote arishi nari.

    Migi go-dōgu mo ichi ni tsuke no gotoku atsukau.

    Futaoki ha nagaita no ue, furo no waki, tsune no tokoro ni ari nagara, mae [h]e sukoshi hiki-dasu

[名物ノ五道具ハ二具アリシト云〻 ￮　釜、車軸・桐 ￮　杓立、ソロリ・柑子口 ￮　水指、無紋・皆口 ￮　コホシ、合子・ソリ口 ￮　蓋置、夜學獅子・勅印 ￮　風爐ハ、大朝鮮　又ハ獅子ノ臺ナトヽテアリシ也

右五道具モ一二付ノコトクアツカウ、

蓋置ハ長板ノ上、風爐ノ脇、常ノ所ニアリナカラ、前ヘ少引出ス].

⑤ Mata koboshi no jōza ni hajime yori meibutsu futaoki okite, koboshi ha tsune no wo hakobite-tateru koto ari, sono toki ha futaoki sono-mama, koboshi no tokoro no sukoshi mae [h]e hiki-dashite yoshi

[又コホシノ常座ニ初ヨリ名物フタヲキ置テ、コホシハ常ノヲハコヒテ立ルコトアリ、其時ハフタ置其マヽ、コホシノ所ノ少前ヘ引出シテヨシ].

¹¹Iro-iro ashirai, sore-zore shōgan ari, ku-den ichi-ichi shirusu gatai [色〻アシライ、ソレ〰賞玩アリ、口傳一〻記カタシ].

    Iro-iro ashirai [色〻アシライ] this means that there are various ways to handle the utensils, and the arrangement*.

    Sore-zore shōgan ari [ソレ〰賞玩アリ], referring to the previous phrase, this means that the different ways of handling things provides the host with different ways of appreciate the special utensils†.

    Ku-den ichi-ichi shirusu gatai [口傳一〻記カタシ]:  this means that it is difficult to record the details of the ku-den point by point‡.

    The entirety of this matter is related to how the three special utensils are to be brought out and arranged on the ji-ita of the daisu.  First the shaku-tate is brought out, then the futaoki, and finally the koboshi.  Because there are different degrees of respect that may be accorded these special pieces, depending on the occasion and circumstances, it is not really possible to set these things down in ku-den (since ku-den are rules that should not be broken).  More will be said about this in the next footnote. ___________ *Ashirai refers both to the way to handle the utensils, and the way to distribute them on the ji-ita of the daisu.

    While three meibutsu kaigu are shown in the sketch, the kaki-ire make it clear (in a rather muddled way) that using only one or two of these things had been an acceptable practice since the early days.  In general, the way to handle these utensils (even when only one or two are being used) remains the same -- though if only one is used (regardless of which one), it should always be displayed on the first kane immediately to the right of the central kane, and always as a mine-suri [峰摺り].

†Whether they are used singly, for example, or as a set of two, or three.

‡As an example:  when a meibutsu mizu-koboshi is being used, the rule expressed in its ku-den is that it should always be kept on the ji-ita of the daisu.

    However, when a meibutsu koboshi and a meibutsu futaoki are being used together (as they are in this case), the ku-den associated with the koboshi states that the meibutsu koboshi should be lowered to the mat immediately in front of the furo (rather than by the host’s left or right hip) -- which would have located it on top of the shiki-shi (and this is the important point).

     In the latter case, the meibutsu koboshi could not remain on the ji-ita because the meibutsu futaoki has to be set in the place usually occupied by the koboshi (as the kaki-ire state).

¹²Shiro-fukin wo mochiiru [白布巾ヲ用ル].

    This is the second part of the ku-den:  a white towel is carried in the host’s futokoro, and brought out to clean the ji-ita before the special utensils are arranged on it, one by one.

    While Shibayama Fugen limits the use of the fukin to cleaning the ji-ita, Tanaka Senshō indicates that each of the special utensils should also be wiped with the fukin before they are placed on the daisu.  Doing so may well have been optional* -- and, indeed, such would fit in with the argument that it is not possible to record the ku-den exactly because, as stated at the beginning of this kaki-ire, there are various ways to do this, and the different ways allow the host to “honor” the special utensils to varying degrees (which would be related not only to his feelings, but to the guests -- how appreciative they will be of what the host does, and understanding of his reasons for doing so). ___________ *And wiping them with the fukin may well have been considered an affectation in the early days.  Nevertheless, it shows a special kind of reverence that, while inappropriate for someone like Yoshimasa (who was the oriignal owner of these utensils), it may have been appropriate for members of the machi-shū who came to acquire these objects later.

¹³Kore ha mizusashi ryakushite san-shu nari, ichi ni tsuke no gotoku atsukau nari [コレハ水指畧シテ三種也、一二付ノコトクアツカフ也].

    “Here it is the case of the three utensils [arranged on the ji-ita], while the mizusashi has been eliminated.  One [or] two [rather than three] may be used, and they are handled in the same way.”

     In other words, while the sketch shows the shaku-tate, futaoki, and koboshi, perhaps only one, or two, of these things could be used, rather than all three.  It must be remembered that this entry is referring to very special meibutsu utensils, and the simple fact is that it would more and more difficult for any one host to acquire a larger number of them at any one time.  Thus, he honors the ones that he owns, and adjusts things accordingly.  If he owns only one, then he brings out only that one; if he owns two of them, then he will decorate the ji-ita with both of them.  Because the point of this exercise is to do honor to these treasured pieces that had come down from Yoshimasa’s Higashiyama collection.

    As in earlier instances of this kind of usage, after the host has finished arranging the treasured utensil(s) on the ji-ita, the guests will come forward and inspect the daisu (though they must not touch the meibutsu pieces).  Only after they have finished will the host bring out the mizusashi* and chawan†, and begin the service of tea. ___________ *Since the mizusashi is not included in the collection of utensils arranged on the ji-ita, the host would probably bring out something like a magemono mizusashi at the beginning of his temae, and place it on the left side of the mat 2-sun away from the front edge of the daisu.  This would allow him to serve tea in the usual manner.

    It would also be possible for him to do this at the end of the temae (so that its water is only used to replenish the kama); but, since he will be using a more-or-less ordinary chawan, this might seem inappropriate.

    According to Book Six, in addition to the usual 6-sun magemono mizusashi that we are familiar with today, a special kind of magemono mizusashi was made for this kind of usage:  it measured 4-sun 9-bu in diameter, meaning that it would fit between the heri and the first kane.

†The chawan should be a good, but ordinary, bowl.  In Jōō‘s day, an ido-chawan is the kind of thing that probably would have been preferred.

¹⁴Kama ha itsu mo shimeri-kin ni te [釜ハイツモシメリ巾ニテ].

    “The kama should always [be handled] with a damp cloth.”

     Given that the first part of this kaki-ire was concerned with the kaigu, and how the host should handle matters when there were less than the three that are shown in the sketch, this statement is a bit of a non sequitur.  It is also possible that this was intended to be a separate kaki-ire -- and that the text, as it now reads, is either corrupt or (as Shibayama Fugen implies) is in the wrong place*.

    According to Tanaka Senshō, kama [釜] should be understood as referring to the lid of the kama -- that is, the lid of the kama should always† be opened and closed using a damp cloth.  And shimeri-kin [シメリ巾 = 湿り巾], “damp cloth,” refers to the chakin.  Thus, “the lid of the kama should always be handled with the chakin.” ___________ *In Shibayama Fugen’s teihon [底本], the first kaki-ire reads

Iro-iro ashirai, sore-zore shōgan ari, ku-den ichi-ichi shirusu gatai, shiro-fukin wo mochiiru, kama ha itsu mo shimeri-kin ni te, kore ha mizusashi ryakushite san-shu nari, ichi ni tsuke no gotoku atsukau nari, kono toki koboshi orosu-koto nashi, tsune no koboshi to ha betsu nari

[色〻アシライ、ソレ〰賞玩アリ、口傳一〻記カタシ、白布巾ヲ用ル、釜ハイツモシメリ巾ニテ、コレハ水指畧シテ三種也、一二付ノコトクアツカフ也、コノ時コホシヲロスコトナシ、常ノコホシトハ別也].

    This means that the first, third, and fourth kaki-ire were combined into a single kaki-ire, with one phrase (the one we are considering now) transposed so that it follows the comment that “a white cloth should be used.”  While the meaning is not really changed by any of this, it does make the kaki-ire a little less confusing.

†Since the “meibutsu” utensils that are under consideration in the first kaki-ire (as well as in the third and fourth) are apparently limited to the shaku-tate, futaoki, and koboshi -- while the furo and kama are specifically designated (in the writing on the sketch) as being “ordinary” (furo-kama tsune no [常ノ], literally means “the furo [and] kama are ordinary” utensils; the formula used in Book Five to mean that the furo and kama are arranged “as usual” is jo-jō [如常]) -- this casually inserted comment has very significant implications for not only this temae, but all others:  when opening and closing the lid of the kama, irrespective of the setting or the nature of the temae, the chakin should always be used (to protect the hand), in so far as it is available for this purpose (the chakin is not available only at the end of the temae -- and at that time the lid of the kama will be cold, hence protection is unnecessary).  That some of the samurai (and their Sen family poseurs) apparently considered it “more ‘macho’” to do this without protection is irrelevant (and, frankly, foolish -- as is most bravido).

¹⁵Kono toki [コノ時].

    “At that time.”  Though it could also be interpreted to mean “at this time” -- and so be taken as a reference to the sketch.

    In fact, it refers to the idea proposed in the previous kaki-ire -- namely, the case where ichi ni tsuke [一二付] -- “[only] one or two [meibutsu kaigu] are used.”

    The confusion has only been increased by the erroneous transposition of the statement kama ha itsu mo shimeri-kin ni te [釜ハイツモシメリ巾ニテ] (“the kama should always [be handled] with a damp cloth”) in the Enkaku-ji manuscript, so that these words precede kono toki.    (The original syntax appears to be that given by Shibayama Fugen -- which is quoted in sub-note “*” under the previous footnote.)

¹⁶Koboshi orosu-koto nashi, tsune no koboshi to ha betsu nari [コホシヲロスコトナシ、常ノコホシトハ別也].

    “The lowering of the koboshi [to the mat] is not done; this differs from [the handling of] an ordinary koboshi.”

    However, this refers to the case where only one (the koboshi), or two (koboshi and shaku-tate) meibutsu utensils are being used during the temae.  When all three are being used (as in the sketch), the koboshi must be lowered from the ji-ita; but, rather than placing it on the mat next to the host’s hip, it is placed (in line with the chawan) directly in front of the furo.  This means that (originally) it was placed on the shiki-shi [敷き紙], and so, even in this case, it was not “lowered to the mat.”

¹⁷Meibutsu no go-dōgu ha ni gu arishi to iu-iu [名物ノ五道具ハ二具アリシト云〻].

     “There are two examples* of each of the five meibutsu utensils, so it is said.”

     This refers to the objects in the Higashiyama collection:  the utensils will be described below. ___________ *Gu [具] is the “counting word” for utensils, or other pieces of equipment (such as military hardware).  Ni gu [二具] would, therefore, mean “two utensils,” though translated in this way would make the sentence incongruous in English.

¹⁸Kama, sha-jiku ・ kiri [釜、車軸・桐].

    These were both kama that were able to rest directly on the furo, without needing the support of a gotoku.

    While modern versions of the sha-jiku kama [車軸釜] are shaped like the hub and wheel of an ox-carriage (with the flange pierced by holes so that it suggests the spokes of a wheel), the original was more like a cylindrical kama with a projecting flange about a third of the way to the bottom.  The body flares outward slightly as it joins the flange.

    The kiri-gama [桐釜] was originally a kiri-kake kama [切掛釜], meaning it was made to rest directly on top of the rim of a kimen-buro.  Its present distressed state is the result of the vicissitudes that this kama has endured over the centuries.

    While the kama (and furo) are mentioned in this kaki-ire, confusingly this text has nothing to do with the sketch.  The furo and kama in the sketch are specifically described as being ordinary pieces (tsune no [常ノ]), meaning that the furo was more likely to be a lacquered clay furo (in the case of Jōō’s intended machi-shū audience), rather than one made of bronze.

    Photographs of these two kama, as well as the other meibutsu utensils, will be published in an appendix, which will follow this post.

¹⁹Shaku-tate, sorori ・ kōji-guchi [杓立、ソロリ・柑子口].

    The sorori [ソロリ, 曽呂利] has an elegant shape, with a narrow neck, and pear-like bottom.

    The kōji-guchi [柑子口] has a more exaggerated shape than the sorori, with swollen cheeks surrounding the upward-facing mouth -- the former ribbed, like the sides of an akoda melon.

²⁰Mizusashi, mumon ・ minna-guchi [水指、無紋・皆口].

    The mumon mizusashi [無紋 水指] is the prototype on which most modern bronze mizusashi were based -- the body circled by several narrow raised bands, with a pair of kimen-kantsuki supporting hanging kan.

    The minna-guchi mizusashi [皆口 水指] has more-or-less perpendicular sides that rise up to the mouth.

²¹Koboshi, gōsu ・ sori-guchi [コホシ、合子・ソリ口].

    The gōsu [合子, 盒子] is basically a lidded rice bowl (even though the gōsu has frequently been used without its lid since the Edo period).

    The sori-guchi [反り 口] is a rounded bowl-like shape, with an abruptly outward-flaring rim to the mouth.

²²Futaoki, ya-gaku shishi ・ mikotonori-no-shirushi [蓋置、夜學獅子・勅印].

    The ya-gaku shishi was a small bronze stand on which the saucer of oil was rested inside a night-light (raising the flame above the floor of the lamp allows it to give off more light) -- a night-light was referred to as ya-gaku (studying at night).

    This particular ya-gaku [夜學] was shaped like a pair of shishi, standing belly to belly on their hind legs, while lifting up a decorated ring (on which the saucer sat).  The shape was derived from a style of ancient stone lantern that was popular during the Shilla and early Koryeo periods -- one of the earliest examples of which is found at the Beop-ju-sa [法住寺] (constructed in the sixth century) in Chungcheongbuk-do (this temple is located near the geographic center of South Korea):  this lantern is shown above.

    Mikotonori-no-shirushi [勅印] refers to the stamp* by means of which the Imperial seal that was impressed on official documents of state.  In the context of chanoyu (where the mikotonori-no-shirushi is going to be used as a futaoki), the word usually refers to square bronze seals that are similar in size to the usual things that are used as futaoki.

    With respect to the fourth kaki-ire, it would seem that a specific mikotonori-no-shirushi would have been included in this collection, but (oddly) the name of the King or Emperor with whom it was associated† was not recorded. ___________ *Of bronze or gold, or sometimes carved from a rare stone.  Only seals whose shape made them suitably functional could be used as futaoki.

†Given that all of the other utensils enumerated in this kaki-ire originated on the continent, it is probable that the seal, too, was connected with one of the Chinese Emperors -- or possibly one of the Koryeo Kings.  The fact that nothing is said makes it difficult to imagine what this specific seal might have looked like (for which reason, I will include two examples -- both modern-day copies, though of representative shapes and appearance -- in the appendix.)

²³Furo ha, dai-chōsen mata ha shishi-no-dai nado tote arishi nari [風爐ハ、大朝鮮　又ハ獅子ノ臺ナトヽテアリシ也].

    “Regarding the furo, [there is] the large Chōsen[-buro]; and also the shishi-no-dai, and others, [that were used] for this [arrangement].”

     In other words, various furo could be used, though apparently the preference seems to have been for those that lacked projecting ears (since, without ears, the furo is oriented so that its left side is aligned with the inner corners of the two left legs of the daisu, which moves it farther toward the left than was possible with something like a kimen-buro).  This leaves sufficient room for the koboshi to be arranged as a mine-suri [峰摺り] on the central kane.

    The precise shape of the shishi-no-dai [獅子ノ臺] is not clear, but the best guess seems to have it shaped like a large bronze incense burner, perhaps with perpendicular handles rising from the shoulders.  The lid of this kind of censer often featured a crouching shishi, and so the body of the censer was likened to a platform on which the shishi is disporting itself.  Some suggest that this incense burner also had rather long legs (and so may have resembled the Ryūkyū-buro [琉球風爐], albeit with ears).  At any rate, this, too, would have been a furo designed to support the kama on the rim of its mouth.

²⁴Migi go-dōgu mo ichi ni tsuke no gotoku atsukau [右五道具モ一二付ノコトクアツカウ].

    “Also from among the five utensils [enumerated] on the right, [even if only] one or two are used, they should be handled in the same manner [that is described here].”

    This entire entry refers to the case where the host has acquired one (or more) of the meibutsu kaigu that were used by Yoshimasa, and chooses to honor it accordingly.  This kind of thing should not be done with any other utensils -- and certainly not with ordinary, or modern-made things, regardless of how famous the maker is.

²⁵Futaoki ha nagaita no ue, furo no waki, tsune no tokoro ni ari nagara, mae [h]e sukoshi hiki-dasu [蓋置ハ長板ノ上、風爐ノ脇、常ノ所ニアリナカラ、前ヘ少引出ス].

    “The futaoki is placed on the nagaita*, at the side of the furo; and even though it is in the usual place, it should be drawn slightly forward.”

    This means that the meibutsu futaoki is placed on the right side of the furo during the temae†.  Notice that this rule conflicts with the way the meibutsu koboshi was supposed to be handled; and, when there is a conflict, the futaoki takes precedence over the koboshi.  The way this should be handled will be illustrated below, in the “analysis of the arrangement” section. ___________ *Nagaita [長板] is the term that is frequently used in the Nampō Roku to refer to the ji-ita of the daisu.  Naga [長], “long,” is used in contrast to the word naka-ita [中板], which means the board made by cutting off the edges of the ten-ita of an old daisu, up to the inner corners of the leg-holes, when the large (iron) furo and other utensils from the o-chanoyu-dana will be used in the shoin to serve tea.  In the modern tea world, this naka-ita [中板] is confusingly referred to as the naga-ita [長板].

†Not when the utensils are first brought out and arranged on the ji-ita.

    Moving the futaoki from the right side to the spot near the furo is equivalent, in the daisu temae, to resting the hishaku on the futaoki in the small room:  it is the invitation to the sōrei.

²⁶Hatsu yori [ 初ヨリ].

    Hatsu yori [初より] means “from the beginning.”  In other words, from the beginning of the temae.

    According to Shibayama Fugen, rather than the arrangement of three meibutsu kaigu that was shown in the sketch included in Book Five, this kaki-ire seems to be referring to the case where only a meibutsu futaoki is being used*.

    After the futaoki has been brought out, the daisu would look like what is shown above; while, at the shō-rei, the objects on the ji-ita would be arranged as below†.

    The implication is that whenever only one of the meibutsu kaigu is being used, it should always be brought out after the guests have taken their seats for the goza, and that it should always be arranged, as a mine-suri [峰摺り], on the first kane to the right of the central kane. ___________ *Shibayama states that this is a parallel case to where the hoya was displayed by itself at the beginning of the san-shu gokushin temae [三種極眞手前], which was described in the entry Nampō Roku, Book 5 (16):  the Display of the Seiji Unryū [青磁雲龍], Meibutsu Nasu [名物茄子], and Meibutsu Temmoku [名物天目] -- to which he suggests that the reader should refer.

    The URL for that post is:

https://chanoyu-to-wa.tumblr.com/post/621478104540528640/namp%C5%8D-roku-book-5-16-the-display-of-the-seiji

†After the meibutsu futaoki has been arranged on the ji-ita, the guests would be permitted to approach the daisu so that they could inspect it in situ.  Once they were done, the host would begin the service of tea by bringing out the chawan (which would be arranged on the mat in front of the mizusashi together with the tea container, in the usual way), and then the koboshi.

    After placing the koboshi on his right, the host would pick up the futaoki and reposition it on the central kane, as shown, and then host and guests would bow together for the sō-rei.

    The same kind of thing would be done if only a meibutsu shaku-tate, or a meibutsu koboshi, were being used by itself:  first they would be arranged, as a mine-suri, on the second kane from the right -- and (in the case of the koboshi), after the guests had inspected the daisu, the koboshi would be moved onto the central kane, where it would remain during the temae.

²⁷Mata koboshi no jōza ni hatsu yori meibutsu futaoki okite [又コホシノ常座ニ初ヨリ名物フタヲキ置テ].

    “Again, in the ordinary seat of the koboshi, from the beginning, the meibutsu futaoki is placed.”

    Jōza [常座] means “the ordinary seat” -- that is, the place usually occupied by the koboshi.  In this case, however, the koboshi is absent (it will be carried out from the katte at the beginning of the temae), and the meibutsu futaoki is occupying that place -- to the right of the furo, and between the midline and the front of the ji-ita.

²⁸Koboshi ha tsune no wo hakobite-tateru koto ari, sono toki ha futaoki sono-mama, koboshi no tokoro no sukoshi mae [h]e hiki-dashite yoshi [コホシハ常ノヲハコヒテ立ルコトアリ、其時ハフタ置其マヽ、コホシノ所ノ少前ヘ引出シテヨシ].

    “With respect to the koboshi, as it is an ordinary [koboshi], it is carried out and stood [on the mat].  At that time*, the futaoki remains as it was, in the koboshi’s place [on the ji-ita], but drawn slightly forward.”

    The far side of the koboshi touches the midline of the ji-ita.  The futaoki, however, should be placed forward of the midline -- though how far is not defined.  Some say that the futaoki should be oriented as if it were placed inside the koboshi, while others hold that it should be located in the most visually pleasing way, without referring specifically to the diameter of the koboshi. ___________ *In other words, on an occasion when the koboshi is brought out from the katte, rather than displayed on the ji-ita of the daisu.

——————————————–———-—————————————————

◎  Analysis of the Arrangement.

    In the case of this temae, only the furo-kama, chaire, and habōki are displayed on the daisu when the guests return from the naka-dachi.

    According to Shibayama Fugen, there are two possible ways that the host can arrange the special utensils on the ji-ita of the daisu.  The sketch below shows the arrangement as depicted in Book Five of the Nampō Roku.

    Please notice that the furo is the large Chōsen-buro [大朝鮮風爐]*, rather than the (medium sized) kimen-buro [鬼面風爐].  While the bodies of these two furo were the same size, the Chōsen-buro does not have ears, and so is moved farther to the left.  This is why the koboshi can be arranged on the central kane.

    Here, the three special utensils are all arranged as mine-suri [峰摺り]:  the shaku-tate (which is brought out first), on the first kane to the right of the central one; the futaoki (brought out second), on the right-most kane; and the mizu-koboshi (which is brought out last), on the central kane.

    On the ten-ita, an ordinary chaire (perhaps a large katatsuki) is placed so that it overlaps the second kane on the left by one third; and the habōki is placed to the left of the end-most kane†.  This is the orthodox way of arranging the daisu, and the arrangement is han [半].

    According to one of the manuscripts to which Shibayama referred, however, the arrangement might be done is shown below.

    Here the furo would not have to be a Chōsen-buro, since the shaku-tate and mizu-koboshi share a kane (and so are counted as a single unit for the purposes of kane-wari).  In this case it is not necessary to move the habōki off its kane after the arrangement of the ji-ita has been finished.

    As for the service of tea itself, the arrangement of the various utensils would be like what is shown below.

    After the guests had concluded their haiken of the three meibutsu kaigu, as the host had arranged on the ji-ita, a special small-sized magemono mizusashi would be brought out and placed on the mat as shown‡.  Then the chawan would be brought out and placed temporarily on the left side of the mat, near the host’s left knee, while the chaire was lowered from the ten-ita and placed on the mat (in front of the place usually occupied by the mizusashi in an ordinary temae), and then the chawan would be moved to its left.

    Next, the koboshi would be lowered to the mat, into the place shown in the sketch, and the futaoki picked up and returned to the ji-ita as shown.  And at this time, host and guests would bow for the sō-rei.

    From this point, the service of tea would resemble an ordinary daisu koicha-temae

    At the end of the temae, the kaigu would once again be arranged on the ji-ita, while everything else would be taken back to the katte. ___________ *The Chōsen-buro [朝鮮風爐] came in two sizes, large and small.  The large one was used on the large daisu, and the small one was used on the small daisu.  (The large Chōsen-buro was approximately the same size as the medium kimen-buro.)

    The kimen-buro [鬼面風爐], on the other hand, came in three sizes:  the small one was used on the small daisu, the medium sized one was used on the large daisu, and the large kimen-buro was used on the o-chanoyu-dana.

    The kimen-buro was, by far, the older of the two.  The Chōsen-buro was created during the first half of the fifteenth century.

†Before the three special utensils are brought out, the habōki rests on the end-most kane.  After the special utensils have been arranged on the ji-ita, the habōki is moved slightly to the left, so that it is no longer in contact with the kane.

‡The mizusashi is placed 2-sun away from the front of the daisu, and centered between the heri and the first kane on the left (meaning it is immediately to the right of the heri -- in practical terms, it would be located perhaps 1-bu from the heri).

[saxonspud]

Outcast - Chapter 3

The icy wind, when Dutch opened the cabin door, almost took your breath away. Snow was still falling, and the sudden drop in temperature made you shiver. You realised too late the amount of clothing on your upper body was too little. Whilst the wolf-skin cloak you had fashioned kept some of the chill out, when the wind blew, the scant clothing that you had on beneath it, did nothing to protect you from the elements.

You walked across the compound of the old mining town towards a small structure. It was open at the front, and it had been fashioned into a temporary cooking area. A big pot, was boiling over a fire, and several metal plates stood next to it.

A large man, with a rosy complexion stood behind one of the counters. From the smell of alcohol on his breath, you figured it wasn’t due to the cold. You hung back, keeping close to Dutch. The smell was not that dissimilar to the smell which you had smelt on soldiers in the past.

“Good morning Mr Pearson!” Dutch greeted the man, “This is Nizhoni, she’s joining us. Susan promised her some food, but she seems to have been distracted.”

Mr Pearson looked you up and down.

“Well, there’s stew in the pot, but there’s not much meat in it,” he huffed.

Dutch grabbed a couple of bowls and ladled some of the stew into them. He handed one to you with a spoon.

You sniffed the stew, suspiciously. “Nizhoni hunt. Nizhoni bring meat,” you stated.

Dutch chuckled, “I’m sure you can, but not today. We don’t want you getting caught out in another snow storm. Besides, I think we need to find you a coat or something.”

You looked out from under the cooking area. The snow was falling and the sky looked dark. It would be foolhardy to attempt to hunt today. You didn’t particularly want to wear the white man's clothes, you preferred to make your own, But you wouldn’t allow yourself to freeze through pride.

You watched as Arthur walked across the compound to where you and Dutch were standing.

“Ahh Arthur!” Dutch greeted the other man, “would you take Nizhoni to find Susan. See if she has a coat that will fit her.”

Arthur nodded, “Sure, be better to eat that stew inside anyhow,” he added.

Dutch looked at you and smiled, “Arthur will look after you, come back to the cabin, when you’re done.”

Dutch looked at Arthur, “best to avoid the cabin where Mr Williamson is billeted!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “C’mon Nizhoni, I’ll take you to find Susan, and you can meet some of the other women.”

Unlike Dutch, Arthur didn’t touch you as you walked across to yet another building. He did speak though.

“Did you find your stuff OK?” he asked.

You frowned, “You bring Nizhoni bow, and knife?”

Arthur smiled, “sure, they’re yours ain't they?”

You frowned, “you trust Nizhoni?”

Arthur chuckled, “yeah, I trust ya, question is, do you trust me?”

You reached the door to the other cabin, and Arthur stopped in front of it. He leaned his hand on the door, and looked down at you. “Well?” He asked.

You looked at him, and tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. After a few moments you nodded.

“Nizhoni trust Arthur Morgan,” you replied.

Arthur smiled, “ok then, lets get the food inside you, and find you a coat!”

Arthur opened the door, and gestured for you to go in, following just behind you.

As you entered the cabin, you stopped, as the chattering voices became silent. You scanned the room to see everyone staring at you.

Arthur broke the silence.

“C’mon Nizhoni, sit down and eat. I’ll go find Susan,” he suggested.

As he ushered you to a seat, a little boy came running over.

“Hi, I’m Jack!” he exclaimed.

Before you could answer, a woman came over and grabbed the boy.

“Jack, get away from her, go and sit down,” she scolded.

She scowled at Arthur, “I can’t believe you brought that...that savage in here, near my son!”

Arthur glared at her, “Abigail, she’s a human being, that needs our help, you should watch what you say!” he growled.

Hosea, who was standing across the room, walked over.

“She didn't mean anything by it, Arthur. She’s just worried.” he explained.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “worried about what!”

“Its John, he ain't been seen for two days, please Arthur...I need you to go look,” she wailed.

Arthur shook his head, “after how you just behaved, why should I!”

Abigail lowered her head, “I...I’m sorry, I’m just real worried.”

Arthur scowled at her, “It ain’t me you should be apologising to, is it?”

You sat watching the conversation between the two people. After you’d finished eating the food, you stood up and walked over to Arthur. You tapped him on the arm.

“Nizhoni track. Find...” You hesitated, trying to find the right word.

“Find the idiot,” Arthur concluded, “sure lets see what you got!”

Hosea nodded, “take Javier as well, just in case you run into trouble.”

Arthur frowned, “what sort of trouble?”

Hosea shrugged, “I don't know, wild animals, O’Driscolls. Take your pick!”

Arthur scowled, “Indians!”

Hosea crossed his arms, “that's not what I meant, and you know it, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “C’mon Nizhoni, lets find you a jacket.”

He headed off into a back room, returning relatively quickly, followed by Susan.

“Here,” she said, holding out a thick jacket, “this should fit.”

She passed you a leather fur lined jacket. You quickly took off the wolf skins, and put the jacket on, then draped the cloak back around your shoulders.

You walked to the door, and glanced back.

“Nizhoni get bow and knife.”

You opened the door, and headed out across the compound to your cabin. You quickly went to your room, grabbed your satchel, knife and bow. As you walked back out, Dutch stood there.

“Nizhoni, I told you no hunting today.” he scolded.

You folded your arms and stared at him.

“Nizhoni not hunt, Nizhoni track idiot!” you retorted.

Dutch started to laugh, “ok, I hope young Mr Marston appreciates what your doin’!”

You frowned, as you headed for the door. You didn't see what was so funny.

When you walked out of the cabin, Arthur and Javier, were already mounted on their horses.

Arthur called out to you, “c’mon, Nizhoni. You can ride with me.”

You looked at him and shook your head, “Nizhoni have horse!”

You let out shrill whistle and waited.

The two men stared as a white Arabian came galloping into the compound, sliding to a stop next to where you stood.

“Is that yours!” Arthur exclaimed, “It ain't got no saddle or bridle!”

You walked up to the horse, and patted its neck, before, grabbing its mane, and vaulting on to its back. Once mounted you reached into your saddlebag, and brought out, a light rope bridle, which you put on the horse.

Javier chuckled, “where did you find her, amigo?” he asked.

Arthur smiled, “we didn't find her, she found us!”

You headed out in the direction which Arthurs friend, John, was last thought to have gone. It didn't take you long to pick up a trail of hoof prints. Given the current weather, it was unlikely to be anyone else’s horse but his. After riding for a while, you saw an abandoned campsite, which the three of you headed for. Arthur quickly jumped off his horse, and examined the remains of the fire.

“Could be John,” he surmised. “Who-ever it is, they’ve not been gone more than a couple of hours!”

You looked at the sky, it was beginning to snow heavily again.

“hurry,” you ordered, “snow cover tracks!”

Arthur looked at the sky, and nodded. Quickly climbing back on his horse.

You carried on tracking the hoof prints, until you saw a horse in the distance. You could tell from afar, that it was dead. Once you reached it you looked at the carcass, which had bled out.

You frowned, “Wolf,” you stated. “Near!”

Javier fired his gun in the air, it made you flinch. You had never liked the sound of gunshot, as it was usually made by angry soldiers, and resulted in death. Usually of one of your brothers or sisters.

You heard a voice echo on the air, and you pointed, kicking your horse on. You reached then edge of a crevasse, and dismounted.

“Leave horse,” you advised, and headed down a narrow path.

Javier and Arthur dismounted. They carried on shouting John’s name, and he kept yelling back.

Eventually you found him, at the bottom of a ledge.

You jumped down, and looked at him. His leg was badly bitten, and he had several gashes across his face all bleeding.

“Wolf bite, much blood” you stated.

John groaned, and glanced up at Arthur, “Dutch recruitin’ savages now, is he!”

“Watch your mouth, Marston,” Arthur growled, as he hauled him up the ledge.

Javier rolled his eyes, “You’re lucky, Amigo. Without her, you would have died out here!”

Javier put John over his shoulder, whilst Arthur, helped you up from the ledge.

Once you reached the horses, you heard a howl on the air.

“Many Wolves,” you warned, as you pointed to a cliff, a little way from where the horses were.

“Javier, you get John out of here. We’ll deal with the wolves.”

You watched as Javier put John on his horse, and headed back the way you had come. Arthur pulled out a shot gun, and you readied your bow.

As the wolves came charging towards you, you let fly an arrow, killing the first one instantly. Arthur dispatched the other two, with his shotgun.

He smiled at you, “Nice shootin’ Nizhoni!”

You both quickly mounted  your horses, and headed after Javier and John. You hadn’t gone very far, when you heard more howls.

“More!” you yelled, readying your bow.

Four wolves came running after you. You took down one, and Arthur took out two of them with his shotgun, you were beginning to get used to the sound of gunfire. The fourth however, came close to your horse, spooking her. She reared up, depositing you in the snow. The wolf was upon you, before you were able to nock another arrow. Instead, you pulled your knife, thrusting it into the beast, but not before its teeth had pierced your shoulder.

You heard the sound of a gunshot, and the wolf fell limp on top of you. You pulled out the knife, and pushed the carcass to one side.

Arthur was off his horse, and by your side in a split second.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, when he saw the blood, covering your body.

You sat up, wincing slightly, “Wolf blood!”

Arthur held out his hand, which you took. You didn't mention the bite on your shoulder, although you could feel the warmth on your skin, as blood started to pool inside your jacket.

“C’mon,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief, “you better ride with me, I reckon your horse is long gone!”

You looked around, and were inclined to agree.

As you rode back, you could feel yourself becoming weaker. A couple of times almost slipping from Arthurs horse. Arthur must have noticed it too.

“That ain't just wolf’s blood, is it Nizhoni?” he scolded.

“Nizhoni savage, Arthur Morgan leave Nizhoni, Nizhoni die on mountain,” you groaned, as the pain in your shoulder became more intense.

Arthur pulled his horse up,

“Javier, hold up! God-damn wolf bit her!” he yelled.

Arthur jumped off his horse, and steadied you, moving you to the front of the saddle.

“You ain't no savage, and I ain't gonna let you die, you understand?” he growled.

He mounted his horse, and wrapped his arm around you, making sure you didn't fall.

“C’mon Javier, lets get a move on, get these two back before they bleed out!” he yelled.

[9uk]

Let Me Stay Close To You : part 3

⌲ summary : you were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. the doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. that shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

⌲ pairing : bully!jungkook x reader

⌲ word count : 4.7k

⌲ genre : angst, pinch of fluff

⌲ warnings : battling of demons and mild suggestive terms, mentions of torture, other than that enjoy.

⌲ a/n : hehe hope you guys enjoy this, it’s kinda draggy for me (i feel) but it plays a huge role to character development. thank you all for patiently waiting, & like always, feedback is more than welcomed ;>

part two  >  part three  >  part four

“So,” She props her elbows on the countertop and begins, raising her cheeky brows and lips curling up in mischief. You aimlessly scroll through your dusty twitter feed, nothing in particular that lures your undivided attention to it.

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you grab to hug a pillow as you switch on the television instead, and absent-mindedly wait for your roommate to finish her sentence.

Sooyoung, however, has quickly spun around with her back facing you, placing all attention on the pot of boiling soup on the stove without a word—pretending that she never said a word in the first place.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you thought you could be aid to remind her of where she left off just a few seconds ago.

“Um, carry on..?” You shift your gaze back to the television, heading for Brooklyn 99 instinctively and almost immediately, heart craving for a series of laughing fits.

You might be too stressed out ever since the beginning of the term—today being your first day of classes—and it just couldn’t turn out any better with the unridable stench of Jeon Jungkook.

A small scream breaks into your ears and—

“Goddammit Y/N! Can’t you see that I’m trying to salvage this pumpkin soup right here?”

The loudness of her voice makes you jump, her words of despair shattering the quietness of the entire room apart.

Sooyoung looks like she is about to rip off all the hair on her head in pure frustration—with a smell akin to a burnt pumpkin soup diffuses into the living room and into your nostrils.

Oh no.

“Oh my god, hurry turn the stove off!” And the sight before you is a major trigger to your anal retention: your poor friend bends to look at the gas knob, hair almost catching on fire, hot soup on the ladle she’s holding dripping onto her wrists and the orange liquid in the pot bubbling violently, threatening to spill onto the kitchen floor—which you had just responsibly mopped earlier in the morning—at any given moment.

In sheer luck, she manages to put the life-threatening, disastrous situation under control—hand coming out to switch the stove fire off, everything settling into a silent aftermath of a warzone.

Both of your fearful and panicky states dissolve into a huge sigh of relief as the pumpkin soup retreats back to safe home— amused chuckles of disbelief erupting from the two of you.

“On the bright side, this serves as a gentle reminder for you to not ever try make soup again.” You raise your brows at her with arms crossed.

“And that I didn’t burn down the kitchen.” Sooyoung adds, smiling gleefully. You can’t believe she’s real.

“You had something to say to me?” You inquire again, blowing onto the soup that was quite surprisingly, not half bad after all the hassle.

Sooyoung narrows her eyes hard, at the bowl of pumpkin soup, trying her best to recollect her intentions of speaking just a while ago.

“Ah!” She points a finger in the air when she manages to hook onto that piece of memory floating away.

“What were you doing with Jeon Jungkook during the party yesterday?”

The question drops onto your tense body like an atomic bomb.Your hand freezes, soup dripping from the spoon back into the ceramic bowl. You open your mouth to answer Sooyoung, but how exactly were you supposed to explain that?

“Erm...” It was all you could manage while you figure out the best way to articulate your relationship with Jungkook to her.

Where should you start?

“Well..” Sooyoung leans foward on the countertop in unnecessary anticipation, looking at you with sparkly expectant eyes.

From the day you made him fall face flat to the ground?

“You see...” You drag for as long as you could, not so sure how to put it, at least in the most decent manner possible.

The thing between you and Jungkook—if it’s not obvious enough already—is a bully and a victim. There’s nothing worth bragging about that relationship.

And no, you’re definitely not trying to victimise yourself or anything of the sort. It’s a fact as clear as day that you have accepted long  ago. Or too used to belonging to the title ‘victim’ in this whole bullying situation. There’s also nothing much you can do honestly. You were destined to live life this way, having a father who has a financial fraud vandalised on his records forever, a mother who wakes up before the sun does to brew coffee for the people setting off to work— making the child of aforementioned people inferior to the child whose parents own one of the top three largest companies in the entertainment market.

You were inferior to Jeon Jungkook.

Power and money-oriented society, remember?

Something between a scoff of resentment and an unamused chuckle leaves your lips to the thought of the awful past life you have finally abandoned (sort of). But Sooyoung seems to lack the ability to interpret your tone well, eyes lighting up at the sight of your teeth.

“No way, don’t tell me you guys left the party to make out at the front porch.” She gasps in shock, eyes widening and hand flying up to cover her mouth.

No way.

You immediately deny her absolutely outrageous and almost laughable guess.

“What? No! We were just-“

Suddenly, the memories of his calloused nail-bitten fingers and soft palm on the side of your face aggressively fights to replace every brain cell that you have, causing all the pores on your skin to vibrate as you quiver at the feeling. It almost seems like it was a mere hallucination of your drunken state of mind, not until Sooyoung brings it up again in your face to remind you that it was real. It did happen. Jungkook had caressed you.

“just…” Your voice drifts off, the electricity of pretence flowing through the tiny tangled wires in your head, smoothly making their way to light up the bulb in your mind. “..talking!”

You already feel bad for lying to her.

“About making out?” Sooyoung is not one to concede defeat to your lame, clearly-made-up excuse, the picture of you and Jungkook sucking off each other’s faces sticking onto her suspicions like gum on the bottom of a shoe. The direction of her imagination is going polar opposites from your initial fear of the revelation of your devastating past—to which you softly sigh in relief to.

“About whatever you think of, detective.” You try to lighten the mood, sending a cheeky wink her way and escaping the conversation—the perfect resolution to avoid spilling the truth and fabricating more lies.

She scorns at your open answer, leaving her only to imagination to take control of her doubts out in the air, wandering freely as she sulkily stirs at her soup.

You giggle at the cute pout beginning to form on her scarlet lips and slowly drain the warm pumpkin delight from the bowl into your stomach.

You would tell this kind and lovely lady about everything—from something as simple how a Corgi barked and wagged its tail at you while on the way to campus, to your deep inner conflicts between your passion and confidence and the dire situation of your family, and how you’d really missed the way things were when you were still in pigtails playing with doll—but not the major happening in your history. 

The story of the scar on the left side of your temple was something you had never want to dig up and elaborate on to your friends. Once they have a whiff of your pitiful side, those eyes that currently look at you with admiration and adoration will very quickly turn into unwanted sympathy and abomination—and your pals will gradually drift away from your side, knowing that they can do so much better than having a true loser stick around.

So you would never disclose the truth between you and Jungkook to her. You could never do that.

Nothing felt more suffocating than standing outside an extravagant yet simple looking bungalow. The darkness of the sky cannot further accentuate the black matte walls of the exterior of this home. The hazy moonlight shines on the stagnant turquoise pool, topped off with the stationary shrubs along the perimeter of this whole compound, flaunting the estate’s overall tranquility. This house looked like it belonged to some clean freak who never steps foot in or out of it through the front door and owns about eleven Dobermans. If you were a passerby, you would have never guessed it belongs to a boy currently studying in college. You clasp your hands together, fingers locking onto one another —a little too tightly— for emotional support and courage.

His fingers lift the heavy material with ease, as he watches you through the gaps of his curtains from his bedroom. 

You were about five minutes away from meeting Jungkook. Alone in a room most likely. As the number of steps you take increases, with an angry-looking security guard escorting you on your way, you can feel your heart hammering hard against your poor ribs, teetering on the edge of rupturing out of your chest there and then.

Finally, in no less than a blink of an eye, you were in the chilly immaculate bedroom with Jungkook. You aren’t even exaggerating when you say that the man in black had practically threw you in like a fresh piece of meat flung into a lion’s den—waiting to be ferociously devoured by the beast himself. At least, that was how you felt.

The slamming of the grand double doors echoed through the room and you scan your surroundings.

 Why were you even in his bedroom?

 Did that mean he doesn’t even have a study room in this uselessly big house? 

Your eyes fall onto a small desk at the corner of the room. Yep, the both of you were going to work on that.

 Finally, they fall onto the main subject of this room, standing at the window, gazing out to the night sky. You stared longer than you wished, no that you can help it because—he looked so innocent and normal like that, watching the stars and moon quietly in appreciation. 

Your breath hitched when Jungkook suddenly turns around to face you. Releasing the curtain from his hand, they flowed close again, effectively blocking out the the pitch-black sky. He looked you in the eye, before his lips curl up into an amused grin. 

You are mirroring his emotion as well—that you’re actually alone in his room for no other reason than a homework assignment—but the limelight of amusement is stolen by the overpowering terror and anxiety. Jungkook could quite literally kill you and feed your body parts to his dogs—if he even owned one, but that isn’t the main point. The main point is that he could do anything he want to you right here and right now and his guard, instead of helping you, would probably help Jungkook lock the doors. He could easily tie you up and use you as a sex slave or hold you captive in this plain bedroom, abusing you as and when he liked.

 You hate yourself for coming, but you knew that worse could happen if you hadn’t obeyed. You feel a trace of ease when you are reminded that now, you have actual friends who would call the cops upon the realisation of your disappearance.

Stay calm and stop overthinking, gosh.

Avoiding his gaze, you begin fishing out the worksheets and your laptop from your backpack. “We should start on it-“

“No, no, no,” He waves his hand in disagreement and walks over to you. His long legs bring him across the wooden floor swiftly reaching you within a second. 

And subconsciously, your hand movements halt as you retreat a step back. 

“Before we start on that useless assignment,” You narrow your eyes fiercely at him, putting up a brave front. He exhales, “I think you have the answers to the many questions in my head right now.” 

Stunned, your eyes hastily search the white walls of the room for answers. You visited his house for nothing else but one cause—and that is to finish the planning on the whole anatomy project, leave in one piece and hopefully never to come back ever again. You weren’t here for an unwanted session of questioning—and you weren’t about to give him the answers that he wanted. You will not allow him to have you at the tip of his fingers again, for you have become a strong, firm and fearless women. Whether he had plans to slaughter the fuck out of you here, is now placed in the back of your mind for a moment.

Seeing as to how petrified you look—your whole face going pale as paper, Jungkook feels as if he’s some kind of monster to you. 

Maybe he was, but he most definitely isn’t now. 

He purely just wants you to answer a few questions of his before the both of you can start on the project—which is why he was rather confused at why you seemed so afraid of him. 

You were never like this, even when he mistreated you and committed those unscrupulous acts on you, you would show zero emotions, to only ignore him and see his entire existence as irrelevant—so why were you look so scared now that he was standing so close to you?  

Nonetheless, Jungkook wants his question marks to be depleted.

“First of all-“

“No.”

Shut. Him. Out.

“We either sit down and start the planning, or I’m leaving.”

You feel a gush of confidence breeze past you, your heart hardening and a side of you never known before appearing. Wow, did you really just stood your firm to Jeon Jungkook, the guy who bullied you for the past 4 years? A heavenly warmth of pride runs through your blood.

Jungkook is momentarily perplexed, mouth halfway open as the remaining words are stuck to his throat. He gulps and blinks repeatedly, absorbing what you had just said in disbelief—that you’ve noticed.

Call it a bipolar disorder, because you too, have no idea how your pyroclastic flow of nerves transformed into a solid indestructible mountain of rock in a snap. It was either you were too determined to protect the life you have now, or that you’re beginning to catch the smear of vulnerability in his eyes. You really have no clue.

With a tilt of his head to the side—a habit he hasn’t got rid of since highscool, be it from confusion, rage or happiness—he mumurs an approval. “E-Erm, okay.”

Success.

Parallel universe, indeed.

Nothing is going through his head right now—not as you speak and point to the various ideas you have come up with for this homework, not as you explain which idea is the best and start listing the pros and cons of it, not as you ask him to do the mindmap for the planning.

You notice that you’re speaking tons of words more than talkative, nonsensical-blabbering Jeon Jungkook, and he was being unusually quiet. Maybe he was thinking of ways on how he was going to torture you later on. True or not, you wanted a high grade on this assignment.

Be professional, the rational side of your brain puts your drifting thoughts back on track.

“Hello. Are you there.” You slap a hand so close to his face right infront of his big doe eyes, and he doesn’t even blink. He’s staring so hard at the crotch of the human body diagram you printed—probably doing it unintentionally amidst busy building sandcastles in the air—and you try not to laugh at the sight of him doing that.

“Jungkook!” You finally decide to yell in his ears and he flinches away hard, flying up from his seat.

“What! I’m right here!” He shouts back in the retaliation of being shocked, rubbing his earhole and you irresistibly laugh at his reaction.

Wait what, you laughed at Jungkook? 

This felt so…strange, yet it is a very typical interaction between two friends. Maybe that is why, solely because it is a normal conversation between the both of you—a duo that have never experienced an ordinary interaction before, other than the occasional rubber band shots and verbal attacking of your outer appearance.

Hold up, did you just say friends? Impossible.

Your bright and smiley face falls into a blank expression at the sudden realisation faster than a flash. Jungkook’s face mirrors the falling of yours too, but his features drains from something a bit more—something like actual fondness— to scepticism and worry.

Clearing your throat, you turn to face the splayed out papers on the table.

“Let’s um, start on what we’re supposed to do.”

Jungkook slowly, warily sits back down to join you, staring at the laptop screen, lost.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Namjoon would have seriously made a better project partner. Now you would have to repeat your instructions, something that you hated.

Sighing in complete impatience, you start from the top again.

“Of course you’re right here.”

Silence.

It blankets the both of you squeezing two chairs into the desk made for one, quietly doing your individual parts in utmost concentration. Add on his vigorous smashing of the keyboard and the rough flipping of the pages of the handout (because you can’t wait to get out of here.)

It wasn’t unacceptably uncomfortable, but it wasn’t particularly settling and peaceful as well. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable—when the undesirable memories of the past sporadically appears in each other’s minds—one’s heart filled with guilt and the other filled with ache. 

Up to you to figure which is who.

You are extremely thankful for how complexed and meticulous the planning of the project is, allowing the both of you to fully immerse in doing the annoying details well and answering the challenging questions.

It is also silent because—none of you had dare speak to each other unless it was involving the task at hand.

The clock ticked to ten and with the shut of both laptops and the zipping of your pencil case, the papers gathered in a neat rectangle stack_it was time to face reality again.

Jungkook breaks the silence first.

“Can I ask my questions now?”

It was weird. The way Jungkook was asking for your permission to do something as simple as firing the burning questions in his mind. If you were him, you would not even be able to stay one bit focused on the mindmap creation, only able to ponder about how the girl beside him had changed into someone…so different.

It was weird because you weren’t used to Jungkook speaking nicely (normally) to you. There was an absence of irritation and danger in the tone of his voice, which made his words seem too kind to be true. It never fails to send you into a stupor when a swear word is missing from his sentence to you. Maybe, for the better or worse, in the fleet of eight months, Jungkook has changed. Maybe, and just maybe, it was time to view him in a different light.

“Yeah, you can.” You easily give him consent.

“Okay first question, why were you sitting next to Namjoon in anatomy lecture?”

Was that really all he had wanted to ask?

You shoot him a look of bewilderment. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely did not include who you sat with in lecture.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“What-“

“You do know that he is a pervert that goes after girls whenever there’s a chance right?” Jungkook warns you, and you are at a loss for words.

Namjoon wasn’t someone like that, and you strongly believe the impression you have of him.

“Listen, he’s actually a really nice guy okay?” You counterattack his assumption. Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief, scoffing as you speak.

“That’s what everyone says.”

You actually felt like believing him. Jungkook is effectively inserting doubts about Namjoon into your head, and you’re actually starting to question the guy Namjoon really was. Did you not know him well enough? Was the low self-esteem just a plain act?

No, you have no reason to trust Jungkook—who was capable of manipulation and you were one to know best about this.

He seems to be able to sense the distrust from you to his claim, but what he said was true. You weren’t the first girl Namjoon has tried approaching. But you were the first to accept him.

“It’s really up to you whether to heed my advice or not—which is to stay away from a guy like that,” Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender, “but I’m just giving you a heads up, lest you fall into his trap of feelings or get taken advantage of... you know.”

Blinking, you take ten seconds to administrate what he told you into your  mind. For what exactly, was Jungkook being so kind towards you for?

You don’t have the answers to that, you think it is because he only wants you to himself to bully—and not share that privilege with Namjoon.

“I just..hope you don’t get hurt, again.”

And then once more, you were wrong about him.

The word ‘again’ reminds you of how bad he had hurt you physically, and emotionally, placed humiliation above your name and put you down to rock bottom. Everyday you would emotionlessly stare at yourself in the mirror and see a girl full of flaws and insecurities. A girl so unhappy and afraid to do anything she truly liked and follow her dreams. A girl who built up in four high walls around herself and not let anyone in, scared to feel the pain of losing someone again. A girl who was so, so tired of living. The undeserved death of your late bestfriend demolished the happiness in your soul, and Jungkook further crushed all its shattered fragments into fine dust—which made you become that girl.

However, the Jungkook you knew all those years back was gone—that you’re still trying to register—and he had changed. Not his face, which was still the same old handsome Jungkook back in highschool, but his heart had turned into something like pure gold. 

It may not be every part of him, but one thing you were sure as of right now, was that Jungkook had a kind side to him that was just never shown to you before. For all you know, he may have grown well from that immature brat in the past and became someone who’s trying to repent from his mistakes.

“Um, sure..” You’re not sure how to respond to such words coming out of his mouth—were you supposed to say thank you ?

Jungkook hesitates for a split second, before shooting the next question.

“Second thing, why did you act like you didn’t know me at the party?”

The thing is, did you really know him though?

It was harmless to attempt to keep him out of your life. It was also harmless to not have Jeon Jungkook in your happy new life.

“I’m not answering that.” You strictly follow the initial plan and Jungkook doesn’t seem too pleased at your answer.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna answer me?” He steps closer and the gap between your faces shrunk so much, that you can feel the fanning of his breath on your cheeks. He was riled up, threatening tone rebirthing and fury dripping in his eyes. Jungkook cocks a brow up, challenging your stand. 

This was the Jungkook you knew.

 He is a breath away from grabbing the collar of your shirt and slamming you against the wall and you flutter your eyes shut and squirm away from his menacing form. Witnessing how you switched into someone so fearful of him, he lets out a groan of disappointment.

Instead, all you hear next is the string of curses coming out of his mouth and you slowly open your eyes to see him running his fingers through his thick hair and pulling harshly at it in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit-fuck!”

It was like, he was trying to stop himself.

As he slapped himself back to the better of his senses, you realised that everyone had their own demons in their head. And Jungkook was no exception. At that moment, you felt pity for the guy who stood before you battling his detestable old self. His demons were overpowering, and just when you thought Jungkook excelled in manipulation, you thought wrong again—it was the demons fucking with his head, and Jungkook didn’t know how to properly deal with them, resulting in outbursts of physical and verbal abuse—the only way Jungkook knew to express his pain. 

What did Jungkook go through, that made him the monster he was?

“I-“ He starts again, cautiously speaking to you this time.

His breaths quickened and he grunts, exasperated at the failure of his words. You keep quiet as you wait for him to settle from the fit with his arms on his hips. Calming down, he turns around and suggests.

“It’s late, let me just send you home, okay?”

He was being so thoughtful for you—something you were still getting used to.

You felt so useless, standing at the side to watch him helplessly fight his inner conflicts—and being the main cause of his struggle.

The fear you felt at first has evaporated at Jungkook’s effort to not hurt you in the slightest way possible. You saw it in his eyes the first time he stroked his finger along your scar and heard it for yourself when he cared for your wellbeing.

It is in fact, time to see him in a different light—a better one.

Jungkook drives you safely to your dorm, a short and quiet journey given that his house is around the area. You wouldn’t have a peace of mind going back to campus alone through the dark alleys and streets—so you were rather grateful for the ride offer.

You mutter a ‘thanks’ before carefully exiting the grey Lamborghini you didn’t dare to cause a tiny scratch on. You speedily walked towards the entrance of your dorm building, before you hear the door of the sports car clicking open, followed by hurried footsteps.

“Wait Y/N!” Jungkook yells out and makes his way towards you.

His footsteps slow down as he reaches your patiently waiting form.

His eyes drop to the road, followed by a tilt of his head. He was nervous.

Scratching the back of his head in strong apprehension, Jungkook forcefully gets rid of all nerves and puts his words into correct place. And it goes way back when he clears his throat, bringing him to the time he faced the mirror and practiced this for a couple of dozen times.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t even have to question what for, because he has a lot to be remorseful and repentant about.

You can tell that it took a lot from him to say these three words, especially for someone who didn’t have to apologise to anyone with all that money and power. He wasn’t obliged to give you an apology. And so, he didn’t have to go through the trouble of apologising to you for what he has done. But here he was, handing you his words of redemption wholeheartedly. You were appreciative of his gesture, but you weren’t so prepared to readily forgive him just then.

“I’ll..see you around?”

Jungkook continues after your silent reply.

“Yup.” You smile assuringly.

And your answer itself sufficed for him.

[danielwallis789]

Health Benefits of Turmeric or Curcumin Supplement

Did you know that the humble turmeric powder in your kitchen has amazing medicinal qualities? Unknowingly, we use the power of turmeric when we consume it as an element of our diet. In Asian countries, turmeric is a vital ingredient of almost all veggies and curries. Nevertheless, most of those who use it, hardly realize the importance or health advantages or turmeric or the compound, curcumin, which is actually the main compound in turmeric that works wonders for many problems. We'll also talk about curcumin supplements that are often recommended for various health conditions and overall well-being.

This Goan Crab Curry Recipe is really a very tasty and delicious recipe everyone in my family really love it and if you too want to try this recipe you can get it from Quichentell website they have really given the steps and method of the recipe so well there.

Is raw turmeric or ground turmeric healthy for you?

If you feel that it is just for adding colour to curries and other food items, then think again or read on. Although it is true that it provides colour to food, there are many other advantages and health benefits of turmeric.

Well, turmeric or Curcuma longa is a rhizhomatous flowering plant, which basically means a creeping rootstalk. Read more about it on Wikipedia. Here we'll focus upon how to use it and its health advantages.

How to use turmeric effectively for health advantages

Turmeric to stop shivering immediately

If you or any of your loved ones is shivering, then a little turmeric may help. Though, its efficacy is dependent on the exact health condition of the patient, there is no harm in trying this home remedy that uses the power of turmeric.

Take one to two spoonful of ground turmeric and add it to hot mustard oil to make a fine paste using a spoon or ladle. Once the paste is prepared, apply it on both soles of the patient. Care should be taken that the warmth of the paste is not lost and it remains bearable for the patient. However the hotter is it the faster will be the effect. Also make sure that the rest of the body of the patient is covered with warm clothes or a blanket.

The effect can be noticed within minutes of applying this hot turmeric and mustard oil paste. The shivering will disappear and the patient will feel relaxed.

Does cooking turmeric robs if off its medicinal properties?

Not really if you do not overcook it.

Quichentell provides very easy methods of all recipes on their sites so well. I was browsing the internet for Keema Fried Rice and came across their site. I could make this delicious recipe all because of the easy methods they provided on their website. If you too wish to make this recipe for your family do visit their sites.

Indian cooking style usually entails cooking at high temperatures, boiling or stir frying for long periods of time. Boiling or cooking turmeric for long durations can indeed result in loss of curcumin compound, which is the main compound that provides turmeric its real medicinal attributes. Approximately 27-50 percent of this substance is lost if you cook turmeric for more than 10 minutes. However, if you add any souring agent, that is quite popular in Indian cooking, the actual loss of curcumin comes down to 12-30 percentundefined

[ricehusk]

Global Recycling one of the most reliable and well-known manufacturers of the high-grade thermal insulating and covering compounds. Our products are made of high-quality raw materials. This is the reason why our products contain high insulating power, spread ability, and expandability. Products provided by us spreads quickly and easily to cover the whole surface of the steel. Rice husk has lots of utilities as a covering compound. Therefore, it can reduce the heat loss that takes place due to radiation on the steel surface.

[cxrefractories]

The use of aluminum-magnesium-carbon bricks on LRF

When MgO-C bricks are used for refining ladle furnaces and ladles, they are mainly used in headroom and slag lines. According to the operating conditions, the refractory materials used in these parts must have high temperature resistance, thermal shock resistance, and resistance to mechanical corrosion caused by slag erosion.

So in the past, these parts used magnesia-chromium refractory materials, but considering that chromium pollutes the environment, its consumption has been reduced, and now magnesia-carbon bricks are used.

Since the magnesia-carbon bricks in the new ladle will be severely damaged during the preheating process, the loose decarburized layer can reach 30-60mm thick. This layer is washed away during the injection of molten steel, bringing the magnesia grains into the slag.

Obviously, preventing the carbon in the magnesia carbon bricks from being burned out during preheating is one of the important steps to improve the service life of the magnesia carbon bricks at the ladle clearance and slag line.?

Its technical measures, in addition to compounding the composite antioxidant into the magnesia carbon brick, the key is to cover the surface of the magnesia carbon brick with an alkali-containing low-melting glass phase liquid after lining, so as to protect the ladle magnesia carbon brick. Carbon is not burned off during the preheating process of the ladle.

We Changxing Refractory Material Co.,LTD is professional manufacturer and supplier of refractory materials for more than 30 years. Our high quality ladle magnesia carbon bricks are good sold to many countries say South Africa, Bangladesh, Indonesia, Malaysia, etc. Shall any interests, welcome to contact us. Our team would make best to be your reliable partner!

Article Source:The use of aluminum-magnesium-carbon bricks on LRF Company name: Henan Changxing Refractory Materials Co.,Ltd More refractory products:https://www.cxrefractories.com/en-product-solution Email:info@cxrefractories.com Website:https://www.cxrefractories.com

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 21

If you’re new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I’m being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, one (1) stuck shapeshifter, threat of stabbing, and flooooff

=

"Hey, Reindeer Games. How's the amplifier working?" Tony asked, his hologram joining Loki as he carried a covered bundle towards the trash shoot.

"I destroyed the toaster."

Tony scrunched up his nose, lowering his yellow-tinted glasses to stare at the bundle which turned out to be the defunct toaster. "What? How?"

"I gestured to press the lever, like I do every morning and it exploded," he explained, carefully. A large grin blossomed on his face. "It's bloody brilliant."

"Er… does Honeybun know you're blowing stuff up around the compound, or…?"

"She's scrubbing out the scorch marks from the granite, as we speak." Opening the shoot door, he tossed the hunk of metal into the metal recycling pile. "It's a lot more intuitive than I was expecting. I think I might have to work on subtlety of intent."

"You do that. Just… try not to burn down the place and maybe don't accidentally kill your girl." Tony called after Loki who turned around, walking backwards with a mischievous smirk until disappearing from view.

He turned the corner and waltzed into Delilah's apartment, stopping to rest against the wall to observe her. She had gotten up onto the countertop on her hands and knees and was scrubbing the surface within an inch of its life to lift the dark grey singed streaks. Loki's grin only grew wider as he watched her body cant back and forth with the scrubbing of her brush.

"Stop looking at my ass and help, Mischief." Delilah had yet to turn around to gaze at him.

"Stop distracting me, then," he complained, pouting just the slightest, considering the possibility of using his magic to erase away–

"What did you do?" The scrubbing had stopped and Lilah sat up on her heels.

Loki's face pinched in a frown, cutting the space between them in two long strides. "Pardon?"

"It's gone. What did you do?" She watched Loki flounder for about a minute for an explanation before she sighed. "Maybe you should take the amplifier off whenever you aren't specifically using it."

The Asgardian snorted, rolling his eyes. "My wedding band? Sure, you can pry it out of my cold, dead hands when I'm done with it."

"And here I thought you wouldn't take the suggestion seriously," she retorted, deadpan.

His thumb and forefinger took hold of her chin, forcing her eyes on him. "I am deadly serious. You can take it off when I'm due for Valhalla and not a moment sooner." He eased away the frown on her lips with a kiss. It was a simple gesture, but he was fairly confident that she couldn't technically be angry with him if he was being cute. "Shall I make you breakfast now, darling?"

"Can you keep from burning down my apartment?"

Loki rolled his eyes, every bit a petulant child. "Even if I did, we both know there is no reason for us to have separate residences." His easy confidence shrunk significantly at her look. "Never mind," he mumbled with a pout, turning to dig through the refrigerator for eggs, butter and milk.

Delilah pulled out a large metal prep bowl and a griddle. Setting the bowl next to Loki, she put the griddle on the stove and set it to heat. Loki smiled to himself, a small shiver of delight running down his spine at their familiarity. They never had a problem operating around each other, to begin with. Still, Loki liked to think that as their relationship evolved, the way they danced around with one another also improved. He quietly whisked at the batter he was preparing, adding flour bit by bit while he distractedly watched her wash and cut a bunch of fruit with sharp, precise knifework.

Einherjar wandered into the kitchen, jumping into one of the stools at the kitchen island to watch his humans cook. He mewled delicately and Loki smirked. "No, Einherjar. How dare you suggest that your mother's angry?" Another mewl. Loki feigned a surprised gasp. "Are you saying that she is being difficult for the hell of it? Bad kitten!" The kitten pawed at Loki, as if he was protesting the use of his meows to wind his caretaker up. "I cannot believe you, Ein. This woman has given you a home, a warm bed, food–and this is how you treat her!"

"Leave him alone, Lo," she admonished, though there was a grin poised on her lips. She leaned her face close to the kitten's, giggling when the massively fluffy face rubbed against her own with a loud purr. "Good baby."

"I can purr, too, you know." He glanced over his shoulder at them as he ladled pancake batter onto the warmed griddle.

Only a delighted giggle came as response. Einherjar was licking a long stripe on her cheek, one of his paws balancing him against her shoulder. "Oh, I know, baby. Loki is just grumpy."

"I am not!" He muttered under his breath, flipping the first round of pancakes.

"Case and point," she whispered, running her fingers through the kitten's fur and smiling. "Go give your dad some love," she whispered and the kitten wasted no time in trailing over the countertop before taking a flying leap onto Loki's back, scaling his jumper and onto his shoulder.

The loud rumble tickled at Loki's ear, and he could not keep the feigned frown on his face for very long. He surrendered to a chuckle, reaching up with his free hand to scratch the kitten under the chin and say soft things to it under his breath. The duo remained in their positions, much to Delilah's delight, for as long as it took Loki to make several pancakes for the both of them.

It had surprised her the first time he had shown any sort of prowess in the kitchen, but cooking was as much of an art as it was a science. And Loki was nothing if not careful and precise. Nowadays, he commanded the kitchen with such an ease that she could have sworn that he had been a Midgardian in another life.

Taking hold of a platter stacked high with cakes, he turned back to the kitchen island. The pancakes were placed next to the fruit and warmed syrup at once. Loki clicked his tongue twice, and Einherjar leapt into his open arms without a hint of hesitation before the god set him down on the floor.

"Good boy, Einherjar," he muttered, a piece of bacon mysteriously making its way to the floor with a smirk.

"Then you dare say I'm the one spoiling him."

"You are the one spoiling him. I simply reward good behavior."

"Making him a special piece of bacon requires premeditation, Loki Odinson." Her tone was deadpan, though there was a tender edge to her voice and sparkling gaze.

He didn't respond, opting instead for dropping into one of the stools and dragging her into his lap. Lately, it had not been uncommon for them to choose to stay in during meal times, enjoying the quiet and as sitting close together as they wished. More often than not, that meant she ended up in his lap and they would share a plate of food between them and kiss lazily until either of them was needed at work.

"Pygmy puff?" Tony's voice over the PA system sounded apologetic.

"Yeah, Tony?"

"When you're done with breakfast, can you deal with the shambles that is Receiving's. They messed up their ledgers, again and even I can't figure out what the fuck they were trying to do." He sighed, resigned. "No need to rush, though. I know you and Bambi are doing the whole cutesy thing."

Delilah giggled through a mouthful of pancakes and strawberries. "I'll deal with it. I think I've got their system figured out by now." A bit of syrup dribbled from the fork she was offering Loki over her shoulder, and he promptly licked it off her neck with a satisfied hum, making her gasp.

"Thanks, babe!" There was an awkward stretch of silence. "Are you two…?"

"No, but I would like to, Stark," Loki interrupted with a wicked grin.

"Understood. Use protection!"

"Oh, shut up!" Delilah irrupted. "I'll be by Receivings in a bit if you want to warn them to get their shit together before I get there."

"I thought we were spending the day together."

She sighed, smoothing her hand down the sharp planes of his cheekbones and trying to lessen the valleys that formed with the dejected question. "We are. This will only take a few minutes, I promise." The sea glass of his eyes had lost a bit of lustre. "Ten minutes, babe. Twenty, tops."

"That's alright. You have a job to do. I understand." His accompanying smile looked more like a grimace. Delilah caught her breath several times, as if she was poising herself to speak, but opted for slanting her lips to his and hopping off his lap.

When she left the bathroom, free of syrup and pancake bits, her living room was eerily empty. On the floor, Einherjar hopped around a bundle, gently pawing at the dark material as he purred loudly. It wasn't until she was near enough the bundle that an angular head, a little smaller than her fist, twisted toward her and tasted the air with forked tongue.

With a gasp, she snatched the kitten away, stumbling backwards onto the carpet and scrambling back. Her widened eyes remained glued on the snake as she shuffled. It wasn't obscenely large–it was about the average size you would get from a pet store. Its scales were an opalescent charcoal, though it bore a ring of deep golden on its neck that looked vaguely familiar, as did its bright jade eyes.

Delilah felt insane when the question bubbled past her lips. "Loki?" The snake tilted its head in what she could only imagine was amusement. The beast slowly uncoiled, slithering steadily up to her leg and starting to climb onto her cherry red Doc Marten boots before twisting around her leg. When she whimpered, it stopped completely, resting its head down on her thigh and waiting patiently for her approval. "Loki!" She called a little louder, in case he was hiding somewhere else. There was no response, other than the snake brushing its muzzle against her thigh and Einherjar's struggle to get loose and rub against the reptile.

Heart in her throat, she shuffled onto her feet, smoothing down the old My Chemical Romance t-shirt over herself with shaking hands. The snake ventured upwards, winding up around her arm to pull itself to a more comfortable spot. Though still terrified, Delilah could not help but appreciate the delicate skill it took for the creature to wind up her body and rest itself around her shoulders.

"I suppose this means you want to come with me," she whispered, and the snake responded with a tickle of its forked tongue over her neck. "You better behave, Lo."

No one had really batted an eye at the fact that she was walking the halls with a rather large snake twined round her neck, but she could tell it made the men in Receivings uncomfortable. Still, she had not acknowledged the new addition when she greeted the four older gentlemen who dealt with the incoming packages and goods.

The head of the department, Frank, was the first to crack. "Cute. You got a problem with cats and dogs, Lilah?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "No. I like them just fine. I have a kitten. Why do you ask?"

"New pet?"

A smirk graced her lips and she shrugged. "Of sorts, I guess." Carl, one of the newer employees, reached out to stroke the snake's tail. Delilah caught Loki's head when she felt him twitch to strike and blindly rubbed her thumb under his chin. He settled down immediately, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. "Done soon," she whispered.

"When are you going to leave that Asgardian clown and let me treat you like a real lady?" It was Frank again. He had a bad habit of shamelessly flirting with her whenever she had to come fix their issues. She secretly thought that they mucked up their ledgers every other week just to get Delilah to come over. Thankfully, she had long learned the pattern of their disruption, and fixing the books was a piece of cake.

Loki had not dared attack the man for the comment, but his face had migrated to the shoulder nearest the old man. His green gaze had become fixed to his, to the point that it was making the other uncomfortable.

"That a gift from him? I hear he can talk to creatures. Maybe that's why that thing is so freaky."

"Lady Lilah! There you are!" Thor's friendly voice boomed down the corridor as he bounded over. "You look radiant as ever!" He patted her back and made her sway forward indelicately, but his infectious smile drew one of her own.

"Thank you, Thor. What can I help you with?"

"Can Barnes and I acquire permission to take the children to the outer grounds?"

Delilah nodded, putting down the StarkPad containing the Receivings ledger, after all its contents got uploaded into the cloud. "Anywhere you want, as long as they are on facility grounds. So, no forest, OK?"

"Many thanks," he offered, rustling her hair. The shift of her hair brought attention to the glistening black scales across her shoulders. "Oh, brother, I had not seen you there! It's been years since you've opted for a snake's form!"

Frank, whose eyes were still hostage to Loki's, blanched. "What!?"

"Oh, he's a snake now? I thought he was still a chameleon!" She fibbed, finally turning her neck to watch Loki dance slightly on her shoulder. Her hand ran up the shiny scales of his spine and rubbed his head until he lolled sideways in satisfaction. There was a little feeling of mischief that resonated within her that was not entirely her own. It felt good to throw the weight of their combined power around, and it felt even better to know that Frank would think twice in the future before making an inappropriate remark. Afterall, he had just been getting started, if experienced served her right.

"You know we was jokin', rig–" Loki's hiss cut whatever excuse Frank was cooking up, short.

"Behave, my love, or else," she admonished, though the threat was empty. She felt a little like a real snake charmer–nimble and good at her job, but knew full well it was the snake who was in charge. "Well, gentlemen, I'll write a code to make your ledger making a little more seamless. Should take a few days before I get it going, but I think I can make it automated. No more worrying about audits," she remarked. The group did not look as excited as she secretly felt. "I'll get out of your hair. See you later."

Delilah sauntered back into the corridors, enjoying the cool glide of Loki's scales across her shoulders and the gentle nudges of his head against her neck. "What would you like to do now, babe?" There was no response, other than the odd flicker of his tongue on her skin. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the world beyond his perch.

With half a shrug, she walked out the double doors to the outer training fields, enjoying the crisp spring sunshine bearing down on them. Everything was green and new, and the air smelled of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. One lungful of air made her feel considerably more calm. She assumed it did the same for Loki, who had not really attempted to venture out into the wilderness other than the occasional jog around the facility. In theory, there was currently nothing keeping Loki from taking to the streets and disappearing into the sunset. Well, apart from her presence…

The sun glittered high above their heads, instantly warming the air-conditioned chill away from their bones and replacing it with exquisite incandescence. The snake's muscles rippled and shuddered at the temperature change, something like a sigh leaving his angled mouth. When Delilah twisted her neck to press a kiss against the smooth skin, he offered no protest or skittish reaction, as a regular animal would. "Let me know if you get too hot, OK?" The murmur was received with a flick of the tongue on her cheek, causing her to giggle.

Picking out a spot near a great big oak tree, she settled onto a dense patch of grass overlooking an obstacle course. On any other day, current and new hopeful SHIELD recruits would be working on their physical skills. Skills that Delilah did not care for, but that were important to agents. She did not know how to carry twice her weight in supplies when she A) spent most of her day behind a computer, and B) had a life partner who seemed more than excited to do the heavy lifting for her. At the moment, though, the obstacle course was being used by tiny seven year old's, a demigod, and a super soldier. All of whom were more interested in Bucky's silly detachable arm antics than they were on climbing a rope ladder.

Sighing, she lay back on the ground, giving Loki enough time to slither out from beneath her head to twine over her arm, and ultimately curl on her chest. The angular head rested heavily on her sternum and when he tasted the air, his forked tongue would barely graze her warmed skin. He was very still, and a lot better behaved than she would have ever assumed him to be. At this point, she assumed he would have been trying to scare crowds or hissing at strangers going past. He looked so content to simply be, he hadn't even bothered turning to stare at the sky, as she was or at the children. Instead, his head angled slightly to keep a watchful eye on her.

"Wonderful day for training outside, yes?" Thor asked happily as he dropped beside her. Delilah swore the ground shook with his momentum. Loki remained undisturbed.

"Mmm. I'm not much for training, but it is a beautiful day," she responded dreamily. Her fingers skimmed black scales, feeling them just short of feverish. "I might have to take Loki to the shade in a bit, though."

Thor frowned. "His Aesir form is not as sensitive to heat. Why does he not simply transform back?"

Delilah snorted. "Oh, he is one hundred percent stuck and thinks I haven't noticed." The snake rose up sharply to look at her. After a minute or two of blankly staring and neither yielding, he huffed and settled back down. "He'll figure it out, eventually." She added, running her fingers down his back. "Or I'll put him out of his misery and help him."

Thor chuckled, giving them both an affectionate look. "I must admit, not being able to talk suits him." Loki bared his fangs at the god of thunder, only to be laughed at, once more.

Delilah shifted when the bed sunk beside her at half past midnight. She had spent the majority of the day taking Loki wherever she pleased, snake wrapped around her shoulders. It appeared, though, that he had finally figured out how to ease back out of his reptile form. He patted himself down before sighing in relief. Almost immediately, he pressed himself against Delilah's body.

"Welcome back."

"Good to be here," he rumbled against her neck. "When did you notice I was stuck?"

"When you didn't stab Frank. Or Thor."

"Right." Loki remained silent for a long while and she assumed he had drifted asleep. "Don't make me give it up, please." His voice was so soft she almost assumed it had been a rustle of sheets that had made the noise.

"I'm not going to make you give up your ring."

"I'll get it to work. I had a lot of time to think when I was a snake. I think... I think I have to rely more heavily on my instincts."

"Why's that?"

"Because you do. And you made it. And whenever something happens it's always because of something I did because of you." Delilah made a noise of curiosity. "I wanted to make you breakfast before you woke. Then I wanted a way to stay with you all day without getting in the way. And now I wanted to hold you," he whispered, tightly circling her waist with his hands.

"See? I knew you'd figure it out. Though I did love having snake you around. You were gorgeous."

"Thank you, darling. I'll make it a point to use the form more often."

"Good. I did miss you like this, though. I love you like this the second-most."

"What's the first?"

"As a frost giant. Just as you," she responded through a yawn.

The breath caught in his throat at the confession. Despite himself, his Asgardian form drifted away, leaving her to shudder in her arms. He went to make some distance between them only to lock her arms with his and hold him fast to her body. Loki could feel the goosebumps prickling up on her skin, but she was adamant about keeping him close.

"Back to slumber, doll," he murmured against her hair.

"Mm-hmm. I love you, Loki."

"And I love you, sweet."

[the-wellbeing-warrior]

Good Mood Recipe: Purple Risotto with Goats Cheese and Beetroot

Mental clarity can be a casualty of worry. This purple risotto with goat’s cheese and beetroot is designed to boost clear thinking. Purple foods may clear our minds, their pigment indicating that they contain a lot of antioxidants. These help the body produce nitric oxide, a compound that improves blood flow by relaxing blood vessels. The walnuts provide omega-3s, a source of healthy fats linked to improving immunity.

This risotto recipe is from the Vogue India website

Ingredients:

300gm cooked beetroot, fresh or precooked

2 tbsp olive oil

1 large onion, finely chopped

3-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

200gm risotto (or brown) rice

600ml vegetable stock, heated up

60gm soft goat’s cheese

100gm walnuts, chopped

Method:

If you are using fresh beetroot, wash and     trim them but don’t peel. Place them in a large saucepan and completely     cover with water. Bring the water to the boil then reduce the heat, put     the lid on and simmer until they’re just tender. This should take around     30 to 40 minutes depending on size.

Leave the beetroot to cool and then peel and     dice them. If you are using pre-cooked beetroot, simply dice them into     small chunks.

Heat the oil in a medium-sized saucepan and     sauté the onion and garlic until softened, then stir in the rice and cook     for a further 2 to 3 minutes. The grains should go slightly translucent.

Add a splash of water to the pan and stir,     then turn the heat down and add the hot stock, ladle by ladle, stirring     the rice regularly to ensure it doesn’t stick—a lovely soothing process, I     find. This is what releases the starch and gives the risotto its creamy     consistency.

When the stock is almost used up and the rice     is cooked—this should take 15 to 20 minutes—stir the diced beetroot and     half the goat’s cheese in. Leave for about 5 minutes before switching the     heat off.

Toast the walnuts in a frying pan over a     moderate heat for 2 to 4 minutes, tossing regularly to prevent burning.

Serve the risotto with a scattering of     chopped toasted walnuts, the remaining goat’s cheese and a crisp green     salad.