#lady finger curry simple

[legendsgalore]

Hayden finds you asleep

Hayden recognized his reason to visit you was flimsy, but talking with you was just too much fun to pass up any excuse!

So here he was, on the back of his horse, galloping over to say hi for supposedly the purpose of seeing if you had any Curry Powder, as Balor was coming over for dinner and he knows the merchant likes curry.

Ignoring the fact that it was stocked at the General Store, Hayden felt you would understand his desire to see you and your lovely animals.

Passing through the west gate to your farm, Hayden slowed his horse down to a trot, admiring what you had done to the place after only a season and a half.

He could still see debris and overgrown trees in the far corner to his right, but besides that the grass was green, and there were even stone walkways laid out. The hooves of his steed made a nice clopping sound on them, and Hayden mused if you had crafted them yourself, considering how often he saw you at the town’s workstation. Now wouldn’t that be something?

The path was a simple one, leading from the west gate, to your house and crop field, and then up to the north gate. Your coops and barns were near the west gate, and Hayden could see the coops were on the north side of it, with the seesaw in between the two, and the barns on the south side, with a ball pit in between them.

Hayden couldn’t help but smile as he took in your clear efforts to keep an organized and open farm. The play areas showing that you spared the time and mind each day to hang out with your animals and let them get sunshine when the older man literally saw you running around the valley each day. 

Though, he definitely couldn’t see you now, when he was sure you were usually still at the farm by this time.

Once he was about center of all the coops and barns, Hayden stopped his horse and hopped off, leaning down to pick up one of your hens that had come up to say hi.

“Hey lil’ lady, you wouldn’t happen to know where your lady went off to, huh?” Hayden asked the hen, a pretty yellow colored one, that he thought he could recall being named Saffron? 

The hen clucked at him, and wiggled in his arms, so Hayden just chuckled and set her down, and watched as she waddled over to the ball pen where your cows were all hanging out. But then the yellow-colored hen stopped and turned to stare at him, and Hayden felt his head tilt. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at girl? You need somethin’?” Not that he doubted she was hungry, but maybe she wanted attention…?

Saffron seemed to get annoyed as she clucked louder and hopped in place once, before taking a few steps closer to the ball pen and turning to stare at him once more. Hayden folded his arms, and hummed, before walking closer to the ball pen.

As soon as he started walking closer, Saffron appeared to be satisfied as she headed into the ball pen, stopping where there was a cluster of cows in the corner. Hayden raised an eyebrow once he noticed that the creatures were huddled up, and the ball was laying forgotten in the opposite corner.

Unsure what was going on, Hayden just continued forward until he could reach out and pat the side of one of your bulls, Stormy, your oldest one.

“Hey buddy, wanna tell me why Saffron wanted me to…”

Hayden trailed off as he realized why Saffron led him here and why literally all your cows were huddled over here. Your eldest cow, a lady named Apple, was lying on the ground staring at him, and curled up on her was you, asleep.

It took a lot of self control not to start guffawing at the sight, but Hayden could feel the mirth bubbling up in his chest. His grin was easily covering half his face, and he bent down to get a closer look.

Saffron came up to his side, and gave him a light peck, and he reached out to rub one finger on her side absent-mindedly. 

“Aww girl this is why you wanted me over here? Well thanks! I sure am glad I got to see this, this is a sight to be had.”

Hayden shifted until he could reach Apple, who was eyeing him warily. He leaned forward as if to touch you and she mooed as quietly as a cow probably could.

The older farmer chuckled, and put his hand on the russet cow’s head. 

“Don’t worry girl, I know she needs her rest. She runs around more than me, and I have twice the animals as her.”

Apple mooed in response, and Hayden felt Stormy make a low sound in response to him as well.

He nodded, and assented, “I won’t wake her up, but she might be more comfortable in her bed, wouldn’t you agree?”

Apple narrowed her eyes at him. Hayden held his hands up placatingly.

“Not that you don’t look very comfortable, in fact, I’ve got half a mind to lay down right next to your farmer myself and join them in a nap!”

Stormy gave Hayden a light push for that, and mooed at him, and the older man could feel the bemusement radiating from himself.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t lie down unless they knew I would! I appreciate you protecting your farmer though. But, a bed would be a tad better on their sore muscles you know.”

Apple seemed to muse over his words, before looking at him and nodding. Hayden felt honored your eldest cow trusted him, and made sure to flash a bright smile at the russet colored animal.

“Thanks now! Let’s get ‘er to bed then, shall we?”

Carefully, Hayden snuck his hands under your sleeping form, and with ease, picked you up. He wasn’t surprised he could lift you, but still, with all your muscles and the way your presence felt so all-encompassing on the town ever since you moved in, he developed the expectation that you would be heavier. 

But, Hayden looked into your peaceful sleeping face as you tucked yourself closer to his chest, you were small enough that something protective reared up inside him.

Hayden leaned his face down to murmur to you, and said “All right then, I’ll get ya to bed then, don’t worry.”

You made a cute little sound in your sleep and somehow curled up tighter against him, your cheeks smushed against his chest. That protective feeling intensified, and Hayden had to restrain himself from hugging you close, only because he didn’t want to wake you.

His horse whinnied at him as he passed, and Hayden was grateful that your house was left unlocked as he let you two in. 

It was so you that he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. An amalgamation of furniture given to you, crafted by you, and obviously found that somehow clashed in a way that worked. Like you, who was pulled in so many directions and yet still found the time to pet each of your animals every day and set up play pens for them.

Hayden gently laid you down on the bed, watching as your hair fell into a wreath around your head. He huffed gently in amusement, and turned to leave, but a hand grasped his wrist before he could walk away.

Surprised, Hayden turned to see your sleepy eyes blinking up at him. Your mouth crumpled into a little frown the farmer had to admit to himself was undeniably adorable, and your voice was soft as you asked him,

“Stay?”

And this time Hayden didn’t bother to quiet his chuckles as he allowed himself to be pulled into your bed, luckily a queen-sized one. You made a soft sound of happiness and quickly curled up so that your head was placed back onto his chest, and after some wriggles of adjustment, sighed in contentment.

You were back asleep within moments, and after a few more, Hayden was too.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Sanji x Fem Reader helping her cook a meal

🍳Sanji🍳

Word Count: 1108

“I need your help,” a soft voice rang in his ears catching Sanji’s attention. He glanced up to stare at the female figure standing in front of him holding a large cookbook with complicated recipes in it. She just smiled gently at him, “I want to surprise my crush with a romantic three-course meal,” she held up three fingers.

Sanji frowned at hearing the word crush escaping her lips. He stared at the beautiful woman with the even beautiful innocent smile unaware of how her words hurt him. He frowned at the thought of the stupid Marimo that had caught her attention earlier today as they shared a private conversation. Sanji had watched getting a little envious watching the two. He could only watch his own crush flirting with another man.

“You know he probably wouldn’t appreciate all the work you did preparing his meal,” he thought of the stupid swordsman who barely appreciated the delicacy of food and rather drown everything he ate with sake. “You should probably make something simple for him,” he added quickly before he could hurt the woman with cruel words. He was a gentleman first, hurting a lady’s feelings wasn’t in his nature.

His grey-blue eyes scanned the woman reading any signs to see her thoughts, but she just smiled at him unaffected.

“I worry I wouldn’t be able to impress him if I stuck too simple,” she answered him, “He would probably treat it like any other gift,” she answered glancing away. Sanji took the book from her hand and flipped through the recipes. They were complicated and would at least take a whole day to make and multiple hands and move quickly so the food wouldn’t burn or overcook.

“If the moron isn’t impressed with a gift you made from your heart he isn’t worth your time,” he said closing the book. He watched her face drop a little, “I think I know a recipe that should impress him and easy enough,” he added quickly, removing his cigarette from his lips.

She smiled at him, “I trust you,” she told him. He ignored the gut-wrenching feeling twisting in his stomach, the feeling of jealousy and anger knowing that the stupid swordsman wouldn’t appreciate her cooking. He wouldn’t appreciate her as a woman as a person.

Still, he would help her out in many ways he can just to see her smile.

--

The curry recipe was simple but took a lot of work more than she expected. Gathering the ingredients he helped her through the steps, he couldn’t stop the few snarky comments that would escape his lips about her crush. 

He couldn’t imagine the stupid swordsman appreciating the work she put into making the meal or appreciating the taste of the curry. “He has no tastebuds you know,” Sanji said as he was moving the meat in the pan, “I am going to kill him if he just swallows the food,”

She just laughed a bit, “I am sure he will enjoy it after all he appreciates hard work,” she was unaffected by Sanji’s words each insult he had towards her crush was followed by words of flattery about her. He was always sweet carrying about her feelings and keeping her safe. He was the first to help whenever she needed help and was always there when she needed him. She just hoped he enjoyed the meal she cooked for him.

She was deep in thought as she peeled the potato’s mind worried about Sanji’s reaction when she did give him the food. Would he accept her love, or would he compare her to Nami or Robin? She frowned her heart aching at the thought of rejection. Would the blond hand accept her love or would he treat her like a friend always in the friend zone?

“Ouch,” she hissed as the knife cut through her skin, she dropped the potato and glanced at the cut on her index finger, blood slowly began to drip from the cut. Trying to keep calm she glanced surprised when Sanji was holding her hand and staring at the wound with a concerned look on his face.

“You have to be careful when using a knife princess,” he said holding her hand close to her lips.

Her heart rate increased rapidly in her chest; she was about to play the part of the female lead when the male lead licked the blood away.  Instead, though he dragged her to the table and sat her down pulling out the first aid kit.

He had cut himself numerous times when he was younger and learning to cook the wound itself wasn’t deep but he and been worried. His first reaction was to grab her delicate fingers and lick the blood away, but he had to hold back her fingers inches from his lips. He stopped himself, he had to address the wound first then they would get back to cooking.

“Why didn’t you lick my wound?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment as he was cleaning the wound, with a cotton ball and disinfecting it. He didn’t want her beautiful skin scarred. She was sure if it was Nami or Robin he would have played the romantic hero.

“The stupid swordsman wouldn’t blink twice when he sees how hard you worked on his meal,” Sanji growled he couldn’t hide his irritation the beautiful woman before him was hurt. She was working so hard for an asshole who only cared about booze and swords. He frowned at the thought of her fingers getting cut and was scared for the jerk who would only swallow it and not appreciate anything.

“Hmm, what about Zoro?” she questioned tilting her head hair falling in front of her face. Sanji was wrapping it with a bandage and taking care of her wound.

“He is a dumbass,” Sanji said, “He wouldn’t know good food if it hit him in the face,” why couldn’t he shut up. He was furious seeing her go through all that work and knowing the dumbass would just stomp on her feelings, “but your hearts belong to another man, and I am a gentleman and will respect it,” he sighed as he held her hand he wanted her to understand she was important to him. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“My heart belongs to you,” she whispered. “The meal was for you,” she glanced at the floor ashamed preparing for rejection.

Sanji stared into her his own heart ready to burst before he could only chuckle, “Then I will gladly accept,” it moving her hand close to his lips he nibbled on her finger.

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Canned Soup for the Weary Soul - Ruikasa Week 2024

Day 5: Affection

Food is something Rui knows is necessary for living. It is not that Rui has a bad relationship with food; it's just never been his top priority. He knows he's a picky eater. Vegetables never blend well in his tongue. Bless his mother for her many attempts to feed both him and his father. He never thought it was a big deal anyway; he managed to grow every year during his puberty era without the help of those stinky things.

After meeting Tsukasa though, Rui saw how necessary food is.

When a new chef appeared in Rui's usual dinner place, the Weekend Tavern, after his daily job at the dig site, he knew he was to something different. You could say it was love at first sight the moment Tsukasa came out from the kitchen. Or because the smell of the curry struck a core in his stomach. The chef asked a simple question: "Anything from the menu?" And Rui just pointed at the curry dumbly. Tsukasa giggled - a very adorable giggle - and later served him one. It was delicious, better than anything he had ever eaten. Don't get him wrong; he lives his mother's cooking, but something about Tsukasa's food caught him off-guard.

Food is Tsukasa's love language, Rui came to realize. He puts everything his have into his cooking or as Tsukasa has said: "I will cook it to 12,000% satisfaction!" Outside his work as a chef, Tsukasa had seen him buying others' food. Emu and Nene, the pair of adventurers who became close to him, always get a feast every time they finish a commission from the Adventure Guild. The Shinonome siblings, a pair of a royal painter and the prince's knight, never have to share their cheesecake order because Tsukasa always made him two. Even Mafuyu, the noble lady who escaped her household and now living with the music box maker, always gets a dose of caramel apple.

Rui also gets his share of Tsukasa's food. Visiting during the morning would give him a sandwich for lunch (though he always takes out the salad), while dinner always has rice and that day's special. The more Rui ate Tsukasa's food, the bigger the love he felt for Tsukasa. There will be times when Rui would imagine himself living with Tsukasa and waking up with Tsukasa's cooking every day. Oh, how lovely that would be.

He wanted to do something for Tsukasa.

…

But what?

"No, no, no, no!" Mizuki wagging their finger like a scolding mother. "I do not accept chocolate and flowers!" They slammed a hand to the table they were in. "It's too generic! You need to give something special to him!"

"Don't you give Ena that rare paint set?" Rui asked, remembering the time Mizuki was having a meltdown when thinking about a birthday present for the older Shinonome sibling.

"That's because I know she would love it!" Mizuki grinned. "What things does Tsukasa like?"

Rui looked up to the sky, his mind repeating the question. The first thing that came up was cooking. A new knife? A cookbook? Dinner at a fancy restaurant? A gift basket? None of them sound like 'Tsukasa'. Tsukasa is bright and warm and gentle and the gift needs to be perfect for the world's future star. Mind you, Rui is not an idiot; he was the top in his class back then. It's just…he wanted this to be something special. Tsukasa has everything. What else could he give him?

He was so deep in his thought that his feet automatically walked him toward Weekend Tavern when his work was done for the day. He stepped in as the bell by the door jingled, announcing his arrival, followed by-

…

Huh?

Rui finally blinked in realization. The tavern is bustling with people, some regular and new ones. The waiter and owner's daughter, An, was busy serving beer when she finally noticed him. "Heya, Rui. Did you find new artifacts?"

"Yeah…" Rui looked toward the counter. Tsukasa is not by his station and greeting him with his cheerful voice Rui grew to love. "Where is he?"

"Oh," An winched. "Tsukasa isn't doing good."

Rui looked at her with surprise. "What happened?"

"I think he's sick," An answered. "He came here this morning looking so red. Dad told him to go home but he insisted on working. It wasn't until he almost collapsed that we decided to let him off for the day."

Oh. That's right. Rui didn't come to the tavern this morning because he overslept, still thinking about Tsukasa's potential gift. If only he came by, he might even take the day off to help Tsukasa around.

"Thanks, An." Rui nodded. "I'll go and see him."

Just as he was about to leave, An called him. "Rui."

"Yeah?"

There was a flicker of hesitation on An's face but it quickly disappeared, nodding instead. "Please take care of him. He can be very stubborn."

Rui nodded. "Of course."

It didn't take long for Rui to arrive at Tsukasa's house in the upper district. Rui took out his key (Tsukasa gave him a spare for emergency) and unlocked the door. The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was on the inside. The windows are still open, but there's no light shining from the light or candle. The kitchen is empty with the sink being dry, which means Tsukasa hadn't been cooking as well. The piano lid is closed, so Tsukasa didn't play it today. Most of the doors toward the bedrooms are closed except one.

"Tsukasa?" Rui called. No answer. He approached the door and there he was.

Tsukasa looked awful. His bright face is unusually pale with bright red flushed across his cheeks. His hair was disheveled, some strands sticking on his sweaty forehead. He looked so small on his bed being covered with a thick blanket.

Rui's heart clenched. He approached the bed, pressing his hand on Tsukasa's forehead. That woke him up.

"Rui…" Even his voice sounded so hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. How can I eat if I don't have my favorite chef cooking for me?"

"So demanding…" There was a tiny hint of amusement in his tone which brought relief to Rui.

"Is it bad?"

"I'm fine… I'll be fine by tomorrow. A star chef must never skip a plate."

"I think it would be fine if you skip a day." Rui looked at the nightstand where there was only a single empty glass and no sight of any plate. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I can't get up…my head is killing me."

Rui frowned. That bad, huh? "I'll be back."

"No need…" It was barely above a mumble but Rui nearly missed it. It made Rui pause just for a bit, but he quickly recovered to walk to the kitchen. He might not be as good as Tsukasa with cooking, but he will try his best to at least put something in Tsukasa's stomach.

But the kitchen is empty. There's nothing in the fridge. No meat, no cheese, not even those icky vegetables. Tsukasa is always one to advocate eating healthy yet he doesn't have anything fresh here? Even the cupboard is barely filled. Are you saying that the world's stars don't even have a complete spice rack?

Does…Does Tsukasa even cook at home?

No. That can't be right. Tsukasa always buys fresh ingredients whenever someone is visiting. Rui, Emu, and Nene had helped them cook in this very kitchen for that one sleepover. Where are those foods now? It doesn't make any sense… He had to ask Tsukasa about this once he was well enough. Right now, he had to find something for him to eat.

He reached into the cupboard and took one of the few cans in there. It had the label 'chicken soup' on it. This will do: something easy to swallow and will warm your stomach, perfect for sick people. He opened the can to reveal a less-than-pleasant sight of the concoction. It was at this moment that Rui wished he knew how to properly make simple homecooked meals. He took a pan and poured the soup onto it, heating it up until it barely bubbling. Once it was warm enough, he poured it into the bowl.

A bowl of chicken soup. Chunks of chicken floating on the surface of the steaming broth along with some tiny cuts of celery and carrot in sight.

Rui still wished he could do something more than this.

He walked back to the bedroom where Tsukasa was barely asleep again. He blinked at the sight of Rui, brow furrowed in confusion.

Rui smiled at him. "Hey…"

"You're not out yet…?" Tsukasa asked, sending uneasiness into Rui's chest. He covered it with a joke.

"Such a bad host you are, Tsukasa. Kicking a guest out."

"You have works…"

"That is done for the day." Rui set the bowl at the nightstand and he pulled a stool to sit next to the bed. "I made you this."

The frown on Tsukasa's forehead became more apparent. "Rui… That's not necessary…"

"You haven't eaten anything, right? You can't get well unless you eat healthy food."

"Said the picky eater who can still grow taller."

"It's all genetic." Rui chuckled. "Do you want me to help you with it?"

Tsukasa's eyes became downcast again. "I'm not hungry…"

"Tsukasa, you need to eat something," Rui tried again. "Or else you'll get sick more."

"You shouldn't be here…" Tsukasa mumbled, pulling his blanket to cover his mouth. "You'll catch it too…"

Rui bit the inside of his cheeks. He knows a canned soup is not the best food, but it is something. Tsukasa is never the picky eater so in theory, he shouldn't-

Wait.

"Tsukasa…" Rui leaned closer to him. "Is there something wrong with me cooking for you?"

Tsukasa didn't answer but Rui could see him shifted under the blanket.

Rui took a deep breath and asked again. "Has anyone cooked for you before?"

Tsukasa didn't answer again for a few seconds, but the Rui heard a tiny mumble. "I don't want to be a bother…"

"You're never a bother to anyone." Rui patted the blanket where Tsukasa's shoulder was. "What makes you think that?"

"I just am…"

Oh. Oh, Tsukasa.

Tsukasa is a caring person, there's no doubt about it. But it seemed that care didn't apply to himself. For him, who always cooks with his very best to others, food is not something in the top priority for himself. Rui had his guesses: an empty house and its empty pantry with its only occupant being the son of a merchant couple who barely comes home. Dinner would be so lonely that he never bothered with it.

It broke Rui's heart that Tsukasa takes care of himself less than he takes care of others. Selfless yet selfish at the same time. Food is Tsukasa's love language. But what does it mean if he never indulges in that same delicious food for himself?

Rui pulled the lump of Tsukasa close to him, kissing the top of his head. "You're a wonderful, caring person," he whispered, making sure that he heard it, "and you deserve to be loved."

"Others-"

"You said that to me yourself, didn't you? 'Everyone deserves a warm meal'. Does that include you when you said it?"

He heard him gasp. The blanket got pulled down, revealing a pouty face. "Using my own words against me. You're so cruel."

"It's necessary, isn't it?" Rui smiled. "I'll repeat it every time if I have to." He kissed his forehead. "I love you. Let me take care of you."

Tsukasa didn't answer, eyes shifting to anyone other than Rui. But then he let out a hum. "Okay…"

Rui smiled. Tsukasa didn't stop him from helping him sit up, back leaning against the pillow. Rui scooped a spoonful of the soup, bringing it close to Tsuaksa's mouth. Tsukasa pressed his lips, considering his options once again. But, with a sigh, he opened his mouth, drinking the soup with a loud gulp. Rui scooped another one and Tsukasa drank it as well. It was after a couple of spoons that Tsukasa's eyes started to tear up.

"Is it good?" Rui asked.

"It's good…" Tsukasa sniffled as tears streamed down his cheeks. "It's delicious… So good…"

Rui put down the half-eaten bowl and pulled Tsukasa into a hug, cradling his head as Tsukasa sobbed into his shoulder.

Canned chicken soup is nothing compared to a homemade meal, but for Tsukasa…it is probably the best food he has ever had.

And if this is a way to make Tsukasa feel loved, Rui would give him all the chicken soup in the entire kingdom just for him.

[analyticalrecipes]

We know that sindhi kadhi is very commonly eaten in India, especially in the southern India part, but sindhi kadhi is also loved by people all over the world. But what makes Sindhi Kadhi special? I know you're wondering, the specialty of Sindhi kadhi is the recipe that is rich in vegetables; the most common pairing of Sindhi kadhi is with steam rice; you can make kadhi with simple and easily available ingredients that are gramme flour, cluster beans, potatoes, lady fingers, cumin seed, asafoetida, fenugreek, green chili, ginger, curry leaves, chilli powder, turmeric powder, tamarind, oil, and salt, and you're ready to cook Sindhi. 

Ingredients :

1. Gram flour - 5 tblspn

2. Cluster beans - ⅓ cup

3. Potatoes - ⅔ cup (peeled and cubed)

4. Lady fingers - ⅓ cup (cuted in 4 long pieces)

5. Cumin seeds - ⅔ tspn

6. Asaforetida - ⅓ tspn

7. Fenugreek - ⅓ tspn

8. Green chilli - 2½ tspn (chopped)

9. Ginger - 1¼ tspn(chopped)

10. Curry leaves - 5 to 7

READ MORE

[chelleztjs18]

Hello you mrs. honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag 🎅

Yeah it was me who sent that greeting 😁 I didn't want to bother you with a long message, so I kept it short and simple hahaha

How are you? How was Christmas morning? Did you get some good presents?

I want that heat.. yeah, today it is at 9 degrees, will snow sometime later and there's wind chill of -2. So I am bundled up while working.

So I made the tiramisu..with a little twist. Have you ever had biscoff cookies? Instead of the lady fingers, I used that. Let me tell you.. it was amazing. Then I almost made this thing called a mango float.. it's a dessert from the Philippines and it's like a frozen cake. It was so good too.

The ham, it was a small 2 lb honey ham.. it came out perfect. I was very happy and content with the food yesterday. I ate an extra slice of the ham just for you. I thought to myself, "poor lefty eyebag, she is going to have turkey, while I am enjoying this nice honey ham...oh well" 🤣🤣

Hm so when I listened to that song, it made me think about something like a chaotic couple. Someone is obsessed with the other person but the other person is just stringing them along because they like the attention. The person that's obsessed is okay with it though and doesn't want to let it go.

I know what you mean about tumblr being a safe space hahaha when I was younger, I had a different tumblr account,and it was filled with angst and it was my diary. Of course now I don't know what the username and stuff is for it, and I think I deleted that tumblr.

Aw its good that Emily is having her fun since she is with her cousins! Poor adults though who can't sleep in hahaha but at least the best thing is to see the kids happy and enjoying themselves! Did she like all her presents from grandma?

What foods did you get from the Indonesian place? Was it all good like you expected it to be?

I hope you enjoy your Christmas celebrations 😁 don't party it up too much though, you aren't as young as you were... just kidding 😂

-CuriousGeorge

Hii hii curious corn-punn righty eyebag!

How r u? How is everything after christmas? Tell me what did i miss..😁

I'm back! Haha. Sorry for the late answer.. the last days of the trip were busier because we tried to do more stuff n hang out more. I went to my friend's christmas party though. Had some great indonesian food, my friend made huckleberry champagne mule too n it was so good! I had a few of that n some shots. 😅

Christmas morning was fun,Em got a lot of presents n she didnt even know where to start n she was kinda done opening gifts.after opened some.lol. one of my brother in law got covid so he n his family couldnt come to have turkey dinner with us.

We made turkey dinner with corn bread casserole, sweet potato casserole with marshmellow, gravy, mashed potato, sweet rolls, stuffing and candied carrot.

Wow the tiramissu u made sounds really good! I wish i could try some. I found a new place that sells tiramisu n it has espresso with grand marnier liquor in it. Oh my god! It's so good! I love it. It's one of the best i hv had.

Did u do the mango desert too? Aww did u really think of me when u ate that ham?😆 honey baked ham is so good, i love it.haha.

N yes thats a really good theory u got from that Glass Animals song. I love it, the relationship sounds toxic. 😅 but i bet it will be fun to write.

Yes, Em likes all the presents she got. She is so spoiled haha.

Well the indonesian restaurant i went was the one i used to go so i already know how good their food r. I bought 3 different dishes. 1 panfried thin rice noodle thats kinda the same with philipines pancit noodle i think.. 1 chickem poridge with curry sauce n spicy, with chunks of fried bread n green onions n i also got something thats called ketoprak. It's hard to explain but u can google it. It's a dish with thin rice noodle, with steamed rice cake, tofu, sprout n with garlic peanut sauce n some friedncrackers.

The desert i got is a thick pancake cut in half n folded with some toppings in the middle of it. I got the chocolate peanut one.

Now, the curious Q & A session is back.. so give me next question, curious george.😅😆🤭

Cheerio!

[allthatgrows1]

Exploring Indian Summer Vegetables: A Guide to Freshness and Flavor

India’s rich agricultural heritage is mirrored in its diverse array of summer vegetables. As the temperatures soar, these vegetables not only provide a respite with their refreshing qualities but also pack a nutritional punch, making them staples in Indian households. Let's delve into the vibrant world of Indian summer vegetables and discover why they deserve a place in your kitchen.

The Quintessential Indian Summer Vegetables

Bottle Gourd (Lauki) Known for its high water content, bottle gourd is a cooling vegetable perfect for hot summer days. It's incredibly versatile, lending itself to a variety of dishes from simple stews to more elaborate curries. Lauki is also valued for its digestive properties and is a great addition to a health-conscious diet.

Bitter Gourd (Karela) While its bitter taste might be an acquired one, bitter gourd is celebrated for its numerous health benefits, particularly for diabetics. It can be stir-fried, stuffed, or even juiced. Despite the bitterness, karela offers a unique flavor profile that’s deeply satisfying and cooling.

Okra (Bhindi) Okra, or lady's finger, is another summer favorite. Its slimy texture can be off-putting to some, but when cooked properly, it becomes a delicious and nutritious vegetable. Bhindi is commonly used in stir-fries and curries and is appreciated for its high fiber content and rich taste.

Ridge Gourd (Turai) This slightly sweet and spongy vegetable is ideal for light, summer-friendly meals. Ridge gourd is often cooked with minimal spices to retain its natural flavor and is excellent for promoting hydration and digestion.

Snake Gourd (Chichinda) Snake gourd is a long, slender vegetable that’s often overlooked but is highly nutritious. It has a mild taste and can be used in a variety of dishes from curries to salads. It’s known for its cooling properties, making it perfect for summer diets.

Nutritional Benefits

Summer vegetables in India are not just about flavor; they are nutritional powerhouses. They are generally low in calories but high in vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants. For instance, bottle gourd is rich in Vitamin C and magnesium, while okra is a good source of Vitamin A and folate. Bitter gourd contains bioactive compounds that help regulate blood sugar levels, making it a valuable addition to any diet.

Incorporating Indian Summer Vegetables into Your Diet

The best way to enjoy these vegetables is by keeping the recipes simple to preserve their natural flavors and nutritional benefits. Here are a few tips:

Salads and Raitas: Incorporate grated or thinly sliced summer vegetables into salads or yogurt-based raitas for a refreshing side dish.

Curries and Stir-fries: Lightly spiced curries and stir-fries can make a hearty yet light meal. Use minimal oil and spices to keep it healthy.

Soups and Stews: These vegetables can be the star of light soups and stews, providing comfort and nutrition in every spoonful.

Conclusion

Indian summer vegetables are a testament to the country's agricultural diversity and culinary richness. They offer a blend of flavors and health benefits that are perfect for the hotter months. By incorporating these vegetables into your diet, you can enjoy delicious meals that keep you cool and nourished. Embrace the seasonal bounty and let these vegetables add a touch of freshness to your summer meals.

For more information and to explore a wide range of seeds for these vegetables, visit AllThatGrows. Happy gardening and cooking!

[mydietsposts]

How To Make Bhindi Curry For A Delicious Wholesome Dinner

How To Make Bhindi Curry For A Delicious Wholesome Dinner

The weekdays can be hectic and tiring for everyone. Whether we are working from home or going to the office, once the day starts, we don’t get the time to take a break till the day ends. That is why dinner is an important time of the day as that is when we get to take a step back and enjoy the company of our family and relax after a busy day of work. It is important to have tasty food for dinner,…

[hederasgarden]

Wicked Games

Summary: The new Elderman of Wessex has met his match with Lady Aida.

Pairing: Godwin x OC (Aida)

Rating: Explicit (Lots of snark, explicit sex (fingering and unprotected PIV), and some angst.)

Word Count: 661

Notes: This is for @mercurygray's 1000 follower celebration. Congratulations Merc! Also this my first OC. If this is something you guys want more of vs the normal reader insert I write let me know!

Godwin reaches for the lacing of Aida’s wedding dress, his sharp eyes taking in every newly revealed patch of skin. His gaze is hungry and she sees the desire simmering beneath the surface when his tongue wets his pink lips. Any other man might have been in his cups on a night like this, but Godwin has abstained from drinking even at his own wedding feast. Always in control, always aware of his surroundings. Even as a boy.

Aida was but a girl when his father was stripped of his land and title. There had been talk that she would marry him before but that had been set aside quickly in the wake of the scandal. In the intervening years, she heard little of him but Godwin had been busy, working to curry favor with the King. He’d climbed higher than she ever imagined. When Aida returned to London with her father she’d been charmed by Godwin’s wit and attention at first but as her own ambition grew, she set her sights on an Elderman son, not content with a lowly advisor.

Power for a woman came through wealth and good marriage. She would have both those things, playing the role of the coy, sweet girl convincingly enough for the son of the Elderman of Hampshire. He was simple, easy to bend to her will and she’d nearly secured an offer of marriage when Canute came. Then, months later, Godwin turned up as a newly made Elderman, asking her father for her hand.

“I promised you all those years ago,” he whispers between kisses, tugging at her gown until it falls from her shoulders and pools on the stone floor. “That I would have you, my beautiful English rose.”

Aida gasps, panting as his tongue swirls around her nipple. He tweaks the other with his thumb and forefinger.

“Always the charming snake,” she replies.

He smiles against her skin. "There is that sweet tongue," he purrs.

She huffs and brings him closer, fingers twisting in his lush hair. He grunts when the two of them fall together on the bed. She welcomes him into the cradle of her thighs, sighing when his fingers slip inside and his mouth trails down her throat. As expected, he is talented at giving her pleasure. Aida finds her hips rising to meet his hand, her body wanton and warm for him.

"How easily you fall at my touch," he notes, his thumb rubbing her pearl with an exquisite sort of pressure. "A slower man might think you a virgin."

"A naive woman might think you are skillful," Aida returns hotly.

He chuckles, clearly amused by the insult. She opens her mouth to offer him another barb but her voice dissolves into a breathy moan when he curls his fingers inside and pleasure unfurls in Aida's stomach, sweeping up her chest. Her limbs quake, eyes fluttering closed.

“That’s it,” he encourages, watching her face. It’s warm in the room, the skin of her temple sweaty. In a moment that surprises her, Godwin cups her cheek and kisses her softly.

"I will not make this marriage easy for you," she warns him when he breaks the kiss.

“I would expect nothing less,” he says, climbing over her. In the candlelight she could almost mistake his expression for something gentle.

“You should have chosen someone softer, easier to manipulate.”

Aida can feel him, heavy and thick at her entrance. He pushes in slowly and they both savor the way her body welcomes him. He drops his head, resting his cheek against hers.

“I want an equal and so do you,” he whispers, drawing back to fill her again. Even as Aida shakes her head, she’s rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. She pulls him down for another kiss, teeth clacking together as she fights for dominance. When he pulls away, his lip is bloody.

“I’m not your English rose,” she pants.

“No,” he agrees, “you’re a lioness.”

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Ooooooh I’ve got a great idea, sooga goes to rito village to confront revali, the only other asshole (he’s a much better bitch than CIL) he knows, and tells him about the cil bullying situation, and no rito could possibly resist helping sooga, and revali can be the ONLY asshole in his group of friends so he ain’t having none of it... bassically I want revali to beat cils ass. hope your enjoying your day!

Oooh? An asshole with an asshole. I'm in, let's fucking go.

"Sooga’s here, Sooga’s here!!"

The rito women immediately started to preen themselves, so excited. Revali couldn't help but give himself a look over as well. Sooga was showing up, unannounced? And apparently without Kohga? Either it was business, or pleasure. Either way, Revali stepped out of his house, being met with the sight of the blade master. Big, strong, he was a real heart breaker amongst the rito.

"Sooga! We haven't seen you in such a long time!"

"Oh you've been keeping up the work out routine, haven't you?"

Sooga, as usual, was swimming in rito women. They surrounded him like feral dogs, clearly wanting his attention. Sooga HATED it, Revali could tell, but it was a sight to see. Sooga looked more uncomfortable than usual however, so Revali decided to be a peach, and break it up.

"Ladies, why don't you let the poor thing breathe?"

"But Revali!!!"

They whined, a few clasping onto his arm. Revali shooed them off, shaking his head.

"Quit being harpies, all of you. Why don't you all fetch him a snack instead, maybe something with fish. You like fish, right Sooga?"

Sooga nodded, trying his best to keep polite.

"I do enjoy fish. If it wouldn’t trouble you ladies-"

"Oh not at all! KRISSI YOU BITCH MOVE!"

They damn near trampled each other on their way to their respective cooking pots. Revali chuckled, opening his front door.

"They like you. You should be flattered, rito men would LOVE to have them flocking the way you do."

"I swear they were about to pick me clean, like vultures…"

He stepped inside Revali's abode, allowing himself to sit down and be served a cup of tea. Never snacks. Revali knew he hated eating, especially away from Kohga. Revali took a seat across from him, getting comfy.

"So. You show up here, unannounced. And without Kohga. For what reason?"

"I actually wanted to come see you. It's...something Kohga can't know about."

Revali was listening. Maybe he wasn't too far off in his assumptions. A little secret between  them, away from Kohga. With muscles like that, who could refuse? He nodded, taking a sip of his own drink.

"But of course, Sooga. Just ask for it."

Sooga took a sip, stalling. He wanted those stupid lips, and he wanted them now.

"I'm...not sure how to."

"Sooga, the shyness is endearing, but my time is VERY valuable. So...ask me."

Revali leaned in closer. He smelled mildly of sweat, and holy SHIT he wanted to jump on him right fucking now. Sooga nodded.

"Apologies. You're right. So, I will say it. I'm...struggling with a blade master. Cil. He keeps trying to take MY Kohga from me, keeps making me doubt my relationship with him. I feel as though it's...separating us, and he's...proud like you. I don't detest you as I do him, but I just thought you'd know how to...handle it. In a way."

Not where Revali thought this was going, at ALL. He sat back in his chair, trying to tell his body that his ever increasing boner wasn't needed.

"Are you. Are you saying you're being bullied?"

"It...sounds childish when you put it that way. No, it's...more like, he makes me doubt my work and my love for Kohga. I'm dutiful, and I love my Master, but Cil….gets in my head. I feel like I should...end things with Kohga, if I'm so weak to simple words."

Revali could totally abuse this. Agree with this Cil person, and be Sooga’s shoulder to cry on. But Revali didn't bully for spite. He bullied for the benefit of other’s. Link demanded the most trust from him, and in the process, became a trusted friend in arms. So, despite how much Revali REALLY wanted to suck off Sooga, he did what was right for Sooga.

"Don't be an idiot. Somehow you and Kohga love each other. And this Cil fellow- he's abusing the mushy parts about you to get what he wants. YOU need to remember that Cil isn't some all knowing being-he's manipulative. I want you to go home after this, pick up something special for Kohga, and remember what I told you. Do you understand?"

"....I do. That's, oddly kind of you, Revali."

"Yes yes, I know, I'm a saint really. Don't go telling Link, he'll expect the same treatment."

"If you stop bullying Link, I'll end up bullying YOU."

They both shared a chuckle at that. Them talking shit about Link was one of the things they bonded over. Revali was about to say something specific about Link, when Sooga reached over to hold his hand. Revali felt his feathers fluff up (how embarrassing), just melting under such a big, strong hand.

"Sooga-"

"I just. Thank you. It's...not something that's easy to talk about with other's. They're so kind and they don't understand. It makes the whole situation-"

"Asinine?"

Another chuckle at that. Revali REALLY liked that chuckle of his. He was going to push his luck, maybe try touching something else, when his house was promptly invaded. By eager, loud, rito women, each holding a plate of food.

"Sooga! I'm so sorry I kept you waiting! I brought my seafood curry!"

"Oh don't poison the poor man! Here, try my fish pie!"

"He might as well eat sawdust! Sooga, here, try some clam chowder!"

Sooga sighed, while Revali sat there, chuckling. Sooga didn't deserve all the pestering he got. The women's attention, Revali couldn't help. But he knew one thing he COULD do.

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

"Have a good one Cil! Try not to glare some poor soul to death!"

"And you, try not to catch a disease."

Von laughed at the retort, pulling his fellow blade master aside for a steamy, drunken, sloppy make out session. Cil had made the mistake of joining Von for drinks, and had a pretty awful time. Drinks were shitty, expensive, and all Von did the whole time was stick his hand in between several pairs of legs. Cil decided a walk home in the cold night air would do him some good.

"So YOU’RE Cil."

Cil stood still upon hearing the voice, as well as the crunch of leaves, slowly growing louder and louder. He slowly turned, just in time to see his sudden visitor. Revali, champion of the rito. Arguably the best archer of his kind. Had to be, to make up for that short stature.

"Take it you've been looking for me?"

"Yes, actually. You see, to put it bluntly, I hate how you've been treating a friend of mine."

"You wouldn't be the first. I also don't care."

Cil was already bored. He tried to turn around and walk off, when he stopped, feeling something breeze past his head. An arrow, now buried into the tree in front of him. He turned around, looking at that angry face, and the now drawn bow.

"I think it's time you start caring. I want you to stop it. And I'm being nice, asking you politely. Don't make me act uncouth."

"Unfortunate. Us Yiga don't care for manners, not towards our assailants."

They stared each other down for a moment, before Cil rushed him, blade drawn. Revali dodged, barely able to avoid being sliced, unlike the tree next to him. Revali fired, only to be forced to hide behind another tree, Cil somehow deflecting it with his drawn blade. Cil cracked his neck, slowly approaching Revali's hiding spot. This was way better than just some walk.

"Come now, little birdy. I'll clip your wings quickly if you come out now, rather than later. If you make me wait...I'll make these woods sing with your screams."

Revali turned quickly, firing his arrow. He aimed not for his shoulder or even his head. Instead, he aimed for his hands. The weapon fell as the arrow struck, but before Cil could reach for his weapon, Revali pointed the tip of the arrow at his forehead.

"You can save yourself the trouble. Leave. Sooga. Alone."

"Ah...he's your little buddy, huh? He's not even asking you to do this,"

Cil lifted his hands up in defeat, slowly walking backwards as Revali kept stepping forward, right until his back was against a tree.

"How both you AND Master Kohga care for him so much...I'll never know. But I DO know...that it is a mistake you will both pay for."

He quickly grabbed the arrow from the tree behind him, and jabbed it into Revali's shoulder. Revali was about to just bear it and retaliate, before Cil used his body to push him to the ground. It knocked the bow out of his hands, and Revali was on the forest floor, with Cil wrapping his hands around his throat, and squeezing. Revali flailed, trying to do ANYTHING to be free. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"I'm sorry Sooga was your demise. I pity you. I-"

He didn't get to finish as Revali managed to lift himself up a hit, and swipe his talons at him. It hit right at his face, not just scratching his features, but peeling off his mask. Revali leapt up, grabbing the mask and holding it tightly to his chest. Cil sat there, covering his bleeding face with both of his hands.

"GIVE IT BACK. YOU DO N O T DESERVE TO SEE MY FACE!"

Revali glared at him, meeting his eyes through his fingers.

"If you'll back off Sooga, I'll give it back."

"He is a MUTT-"

"I'll tell EVERYONE I saw your face."

"They won't believe you."

"Rumors are powerful. Many would LOVE to make people think its real, just to humiliate you. Care to risk it?"

Cil hesitated. But when Revali's claws started to glide down the wood, he was convinced.

"OKAY OKAY! JUST. GIVE ME THE MASK, AND WE'LL CALL IT TRUCE."

Revali had no idea these masks were such a huge fucking deal. Whatever. He tossed the mask in his direction, watching Cil frantically put it back on, smearing the blood on his mask. Revali picked his bow off the floor, putting it back into its holster.

"You yigas better keep your word."

Revali was in the skies in just a second, headed right for Zora's domain. He stopped at Mipha’s window, giving it a knock. She opened her window, immediately looking worried as she saw the state he was in.

"Revali! What happened, you poor thing?!"

"I was...helping a friend. Suppose you don't mind doing the same for me?"

Was this a stupid decision? Yes. Like Link level stupid. But...Revali didn't at all regret it. Not for Sooga.

[momma2boys]

Brilliant at Breakfast

Not actually a Fluffbruary prompt--I was working from another list today because Oscar Wilde. (How could I resist?)

11: Never love anyone who treats you like you are ordinary. Oscar Wilde

John Watson slurped his tea.

“John…” said a patient velvet baritone.

“Hmmm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Clearly. Do catch up.”

“Apologies,” huffed John. “Not all of us are brilliant first thing in the morning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John. Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast.”

“That’s clever. Just make that up, did you? And aren’t you always brilliant?”

“Oscar Wilde.” Sherlock poured a splash of milk into his tea and sipped it tentatively. “And, whilst I am indeed brilliant, my light is never quite as bright at breakfast. Nor should it be.”

John looked up from his paper then, actually observing his flatmate. Sherlock was a carefully curated blend of groomed and unkempt. His dark curls were tousled, but clean and shining. He wore his favourite blue dressing gown with the iodine stain on the sleeve over an impeccable white dress shirt and grey bespoke trousers. Toast crumbs clung to his freshly shaved chin. Under the table, John tentatively reached forward with a sock-clad toe to confirm that yes, Sherlock was barefoot.

Sherlock wiggled his toes under John’s foot, trapping it in place with his other foot.

“Christ, mate, your feet are freezing! Why are you barefoot?”

Sherlock waved a hand at him as if the subject of feet were simply too mundane for words. “Of course,” he posited, “I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.”

John chuckled. “Pompous git. C’mere.” He beckoned with his hand.

When Sherlock leant forward, John wiped at the toast crumbs with his thumb before sticking said digit in his mouth.

“Mmmmmm. Did you eat the last piece of toast?”

“Probably. Didn’t know I was meant to be keeping track.”

John shook his head and looked back at his newspaper. “You were asking me something, weren’t you?”

“What?” Sherlock took another sip of tea. “Was I? Oh yes, do you have plans today? We haven’t any cases on.”

“I was just reading about a new exhibit at the Victoria and Albert--Oscar Wilde, coincidentally. Any interest?”

“The universe is rarely so lazy. Still, Victorian wit and aesthete? Could be intriguing.”

“And poet, playwright, and convicted deviant,” added John.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“I ‘spose it is.” John pushed his finger onto his plate to collect toast crumbs. This he also popped into his mouth before asking, “Seriously, any more toast? Or bread at least?”

Sighing, Sherlock released John’s foot and unfolded himself from the table. John kept reading and was surprised when Sherlock held a plate with a single muffin on it under his nose.

“Where’d that come from?”

“Mrs. Hudson. Obviously.”

“She sent up only one muffin?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Lady Bracknell.”

“What?”

“Mycroft played Lady Bracknell at school.”

John took a bite of the muffin and, still chewing, asked, “What’s that got to do with muffins?”

“The truth, John, is rarely pure and never simple. There may have been four muffins earlier.”

John laughed. “You selfish prat! That settles it. You owe me a trip to the museum and lunch at Angelo’s.”

“Oh John, I thought you’d never get ‘round to asking.”

That evening they were both too full from their late lunch at Angelo’s to eat much for tea. John picked at the leftover curry he’d warmed up in the microwave. He managed to get a few bites into Sherlock as well, before slicing an apple and quietly handing his partner one piece at a time whilst the idiot worked at his computer. The good thing about Sherlock’s concentration was that John could get him to eat by taking advantage of automatic reactions. Apple slice in hand goes into the mouth. Once in the mouth, chew and swallow. Repeat. Flatmate fed without argument.

“I do know what you are doing, John. I just happen to be hungry.”

John hummed. “Of course.”

John turned the kettle on whilst he washed up the dishes. When he returned to the sitting room, Sherlock had closed his laptop and was tuning his violin. John set Sherlock’s cup of tea–-milk, two sugars–-on the desk and settled himself in his own chair.

Sherlock ran through some arpeggios, warming up his fingers, before playing a melody John didn’t recognize.

When it was finished, John commented, “I haven’t heard that one before, have I?”

“No. While it’s an old melody, I haven’t played it before.”

“And you just played it by ear for the first time? Extraordinary. What’s it called?”

“John.”

When John looked at him with his head cocked to the side in disbelief, Sherlock clarified, “I was able to play it by ear because I hear it every day. It is the song you sing with every movement and thought. It is the song you sing by existing.”

***********

John lay on his side in their bed, facing Sherlock, who was lying on his back answering an email on his phone. John had propped his head up on one hand, absently petting Sherlock’s curls with the other.

“D’you ever think about what we would’ve done if we’d lived in, say, 1895?” he asked.

“Been very, very careful. Been confirmed bachelors. Or, possibly, you’d have married a very understanding woman. Which I would have hated, by the way.”

“Why would I be the one to marry?” asked John, smiling.

“Because you’ve actually had girlfriends. One might then assume they are your area. We’ve already established that they aren’t mine. I can’t imagine that a Victorian me would have a different opinion.”

“No,” John said, shaking his head and giggling a little. “I suppose not.” He rolled over onto his back. “I’m glad we can be ourselves.”

“Everyone else is already taken.”

Sherlock set his phone down on the nightstand and turned out the light. John held the blankets up without being asked, and Sherlock nestled onto his chest. John’s fingers found their way back to Sherlock’s curls.

“You are extraordinary, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Primarily because you treat me as such, John Hamish Watson. I’ve made it a point never to love anyone who treats me as if I were ordinary.”

John stopped petting him and curled himself around his best friend and lover. “So I’m not the first, then?”

“You know you’re not. I expect you are the last; you are certainly the best.”

“As are you, my love, as are you.”

[safrona-shadowsun]

Seeking

{ A follow up to @thefirstperished' story here. This takes place for Safrona in Warcraft: Shadowlands, canonically set just before the discovery of Korthia. }

"Excellent, most excellent," the Mistress of Darkhaven spoke of her Favored Guest, who had donned corseted red velvet and a decadent jeweled cloak by her insistent request. “Just the right fit too. I knew it too, didn’t I? A riding robe and cloak are efficient I’m sure, ah, but look at how you shine now. You wear our colors deliciously well.”

Safrona continued to patiently present for the Venthyr host who aided her now, and had been since the Courier had made her want known to attend the famed Ember Court of Revendreth. Mihaela regarded her now with a critical look touched with some longing. Her long, spindly fingers were dulled by the cool touch of lightless silk and lifeless, ashen skin. In the void elf there hummed a heartbeat, unspoken sins and power, and in the Venthyr there itched a curious desire to at last touch it. Yet the Venthyr were also made of etiquette and formality. Her hands instead splayed with the paused question of permission: “May I?”

After an eye of consideration, the Courier indicated her permission for her host to touch her hair as she wished. Despite feeling suddenly like a living doll the Venthyr was doting on with each gathering stroke of her braid, Safrona kept her attentions to the ledger of expectations for her visit to Court, and more notably presenting her own request. “I managed to contract the Maldraxxi minstrel for entertainment and locked in the invitation to the Ardenweald Emissary this time. That’s on top of the Sinner I’ve dragged along.”

“More horses?” Mihaela inquired with a note of disappointment. Her hands did not stop the experimental arrangement of hair around the elf's head. “Sinrunners are divine, my dear, but the Court certainly has their fill of horses."

"Not a horse," Safrona shook her head. " 'Sinner' as I am meaning one of those loyal to Denathrius, delivered directly to the Court's hands."

"Impressive. You take an interest in what the Court of Harvesters do, clearly. But largely a situation another Inquisitor can handle. You give the spotlight to another when at Court, you will need it on yourself to guarantee a boon."

"...is what I am not already doing for Revendreth enough to ask for one favor?" The Courier swallowed the months of weariness that had built into easy irritation with the tedium of gaining favor in the Shadowlands. At least she was not required to enter the Maw with these final preparations. “I know what I seek. Who I seek. All I need is the opportunity to find it there, no more.”

Mistress Mihaela slowly smirked, sensing the suppression of the void elf's nerves. "I'm sure the Court will appreciate your efforts. But you are hardly the first Maw Walker that has curried favor with them, and you will not be the last. You and your Broker friends are professional and useful to be sure, but the Court recognizes the allure of presentation as much as it does dependability. You are very interesting to the eye as is. And your request is personal, it seems."

The Venthyr revealed a brilliantly glimmering thread of gemstones that were fed the supernatural presence of flowing anima, attempting to thread them now through the elf's long, burgundy-colored braid. "We should make sure all eyes are drawn to your many facets."

Safrona grew self-conscious for the decadence given her. "This may be a bit much, don't you think?"

The Venthyr clicked her sharp teeth together, admonishing. "Don't be coy, dear girl. Make sure you bring out that pretty little scythe too. They will want more than a little "courier" at Court."

……..

"...and this "demon" as you call it, how magnificent! Clearly obedient." A Venthyr gentleman observed the felhunter Safrona had summoned to the Court grounds. As Mihaela had foretold, the new blood would gain attention, if not fascination. "Is it formed from your own blood, anima? Or a simple form of enchantment? I have never had the pleasure of investigating this species myself."

"Oh Barnabus! Stop pestering the girl about her pets!" Another courtly countess spoke, lightly placing her long, taloned fingers on Safrona's sleeve. She grinned toothily as she gained the void elf's eyes. "We need to know so much more about you, Maw Walker."

"And that glorious scythe!" Another at court joined at the side of the "Courier". "That is a weapon with a story I hope you intend to regale us with."

"Or you could save the chatter and appease dearest Barnabus with a Sinstone reading, hmmm?"

Two laughed while the Inquisitor glared playfully at his companions, extending his decorated sleeve for the void elf to take, arm in arm. "Do not tempt me more than I am, friends."

Polite and patient as she could be, Safrona let herself be lead around the Court by her company as they wished, asking pointed questions - the Venthyr took absolute pleasure in talking about themselves, or hearing their own voices. A gentle arrogance that worked to her own favor, as it kept her from needing to expose more of herself than was necessary. Her want, her desire needed to be aimed at the right party.

As she was lead to a cul de sac of the Ember Court, Safrona continued to listen to her guiding company, affording them smiles and a chuckle here or there to ingratiate their small biographies, their teases. Her eyes strayed however, wandering the new section, the new set of gaunt, vampiric faces that looked so much the same.

One face stood out in immense familiarity among them. Safrona paused within the makeshift little coterie, thought she felt her heart skip its beat. Lingering like a corner shadow, she would have recognized him by sway, by step, no matter how the facets of Death had touched him. Pure elation and relief flowed from her, a tumble of flame in the dark that reached for her Soulsinger.

It was the sudden closeness of one of the Venthyr that abruptly cut into her elation, locking her into physical place with a sudden wave of discomfort. "You smell like blood in the night, and...destruction, my dear lady." The Venthyr's voice spilled away from mere curiosity to something disturbingly wanton. "How very interesting…"

The Void Elf's discomfort knotted in her stomach, but it quickly evolved into a swirl of offense, and defensive backlash. Yet she was in control. Nothing outwardly changed in Safrona but her position, and the domineering stance of her figure as her voice came.

"That would be because I am at my core, destruction. It is what I know, Sir. It is all I have known for a long time. My sins are numerous in the light of all of it."

Safrona began to step away from the circle of curious Venthyr, glancing the way of the First of the Perished. In his mere presence, she felt stronger, certain of herself. Every word spoken next she hoped he heard.

"You can know I am a monster, an anomaly that has been absolved to hunt, harvest and deliver other monsters to their place, eat the dark of the world so the innocent can have their reprieve. If I am a Sinner you look for, then so it should be. I no longer regret what I was to be what I am now." Safrona abandoned the attention of the Venthyr, and gave hers solely to the lingering figure with her approach. He was everything she had come to find.

There was a sense of disassociation, a sense of shattered realities broken from time and space. A part of him had felt familiarity to an event like this but held no recollection of such a thing. He wasn't sure why he had been called here nor why he was asked to attend; hell, he wasn't sure why he even remained there. Standing quietly off to the side, the Hybrid stared out across the dead expanse of the Ember Ward, saw the sun blasted landscape that was more ash than dirt. That feeling of being out of place crept up on him, the feeling as if eyes were staring down upon him much like the crowds within the Arena.

It wasn't a voice that broke that feeling but the sudden warmth and ache that filled his chest, an ache that elicited a wince from chapped lips and gritted teeth. Fingers dug into the black speckled flesh of his chest as he fell to his knees, glancing around behind in search of what or who was forcing this feeling upon him. Staring out across the crowd, it was merely a sea of faces that were drenched in colors that all appeared muted greys.

Until... A singular being emitted an effigy of shadowed light among a sea of unknowns; a warm, inviting light that almost beckoned him toward it. " Who are you...", he spoke softly to himself, the being's visage not fully coming into view.

Elation quickly dampened as her Soulsinger seemed to crumple before her, cringing away in her eyes as if she had invoked an aura of fear. She knelt with him, gently reaching to touch the fingers he clutched to his chest. Precious touch, the gentle worship of calloused fingers she went without for much too long. Yet there was no relief, no sense of home here. Only the lost look of a broken man, wondering why she caused him pain.

The circle of Venthyr whispered among each other just behind the pair of souls, a background to the solemn silence Safrona fell into.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Effigy

“It may seem unimaginable to you that child soldiers exist... And yet the reality for many rebel and gang leaders, and even state governments, is that there is no more complete end-to-end weapon system in the inventory of war machines than the child soldier. Its negligible technology, simple sustainment requirements, unlimited versatility in all possible facets of low-intensity conflict, and capacity for barbarism has made the child soldier the weapon of choice in over thirty conflicts around the world... Man has created the ultimate cheap, expendable, yet sophisticated human weapon, at the expense of humanity's own future: its children.”

-Roméo Dallaire, They Fight Like Soldiers, They Die Like Children

1.

Nagxia.

1568.

She had heard stories about the humidity and heat of the south, but nothing could prepare her for the reality of it. The air here was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and sitting still beneath deck was enough to drench her hanfu with sweat. But despite her discomfort, the girl was content knowing that this was where the Doman Liberation Front needed her to be. That is, until her handler called out to her.

“Ruì Yīng,” he said, “it’s time to see the land that will be your grave.”

Her handler was an impatient man who went by the alias: Sato Hideshi. No one who wanted a future after this used their real names–A concern that Ruì Yīng was told not to worry about since she was a candidate for the Kōhai Project.

Marching up onto the deck of the junk with his ward in tow, Hideshi looked out at the white sands and emerald bay before pointing beyond them. Ruì Yīng’s eyes followed his finger as they traced the impenetrable jungle canopy that stretched up into distant highlands.

“We’ll see how long you last out there,” her handler said.

Ruì Yīng nodded silently and shifted the weight of the Dāo broadsword on her back. She didn’t really care as she had come to terms with her fate years ago. Among the few who knew of its existence, the Kōhai Project was notorious for its mortality rate and her family had gladly volunteered her for it for the sake of Doma’s freedom.

“Such a waste,” Hideshi muttered to himself.

“What is?” asked Diplomat Zhāng, the third member of their party. “What’s a waste?” The man was an emissary who had been sent to curry favour with the Nagxian Resistance on Lord Kien’s behalf.

Hideshi gave an appraising glance at Ruì Yīng and decided that he did not care that the girl was within earshot. It was already clear from her treatment that he would have preferred if she had been a boy.

“She’d be of better use bearing children for the Liberation Front, not dying in some foreign land” he said.

Ruì Yīng shot daggers at him, but knew that expressing her dissatisfaction was pointless. So again, she said nothing.

“Well,” said Zhāng, who had now begun making his own appraisals of her. “She is pretty.”

“She’s strong,” Hideshi corrected him. “I’ve spent the last two years training her how to fight and my philosophies of war. I’d rather not see her sacrificed for some Nagxian endeavour.”

Zhāng cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “The Kōhai Project is not a Nagxian endeavour. This front is merely a testing ground for the weapons it will produce.” the diplomat said as his gaze returned to Ruì Yīng. “But you’re right. Given her ripe age, our little lady over there ought to have been wedded off and started a family by now. Failing that, she could have always made a lovely concubine.”

Hideshi, in a rare act of generosity, recognized a familiar glint in Ruì Yīng’s eyes and gave her the permission to speak.

“Do you have something to say to our diplomat?”

The girl jumped at the opportunity. “Keep talking like that and I’ll make sure you serve Lord Kaien as a eunuch,” Ruì Yīng spat out. “My parents gave me to the Liberation Front to kill Garleans, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

“With a face like that, I can imagine you doing that and so much more...” Zhāng sniggered and with a deadly calm, Ruì Yīng drew her broadsword.

“Enough,” Hideshi growled and stepped between them. He glared at the Diplomat. “Taunt her at your own peril. I won’t always be around to keep her leashed,” he said before turning towards his ward. “And you, girl, you best remember Diplomat Zhāng’s station. He has important duties to perform for the Liberation Front.”

“Duties that I’m sure he can perform with or without a cock.”

Ruì Yīng flinched instinctively as Hideshi raised his arm to backhand her, but the strike was interrupted by a yell from the ship’s navigator.

“Sampan on approach!”

Hideshi moved to join the crew members of the Doman vessel gathering on its portside while Ruì Yīng counted her blessings. She sheathed her Dāo, letting the comforting weight rest on her shoulders once more before observing the newcomers arriving from the coast.

--

The sampan drifted towards their ship, cutting through the waves as the crew prepared a line to leash the two vessels together. Providing an accommodation ladder to the Nagxian officer and his translator, the two of them quickly climbed aboard. The man was garbed in a threadbare uniform, a combat vest, and carried an automatic rifle on his shoulder. His translator on the other hand was a similarly dressed Doman boy no older than Ruì Yīng who wore a pair of swords on his back. The girl figured he must have been another candidate for the Kōhai Project.

“Salutations, guests, my name is Captain Diệm,” the boy translated on the officer’s behalf. “I will be both your liaison and escort through River’s End province.”

“Salutations,” Zhāng said, swallowing his pride for the sake of his mission and giving the officer a respectful fist and palm salute. “I am Diplomat Zhāng, sent by his Lordship Kien. This is Master-of-Arms Sato and his ward, Fù Ruì Yīng.”

Captain Diệm returned the gesture. “Welcome to Nagxia, I understand you’ve brought gifts from the Doman Liberation Front?”

Diplomat Zhāng nodded, gesturing for the crew to remove planks in the middle of the deck to reveal the contents of the cargo hold. The Nagxian officer tried his best to hide his reaction to the sight of food, weapons, and desperately needed medicine.

Noticing this, the Diplomat spoke up to capitalise on the moment. “May this usher in a long partnership between the Doman and Nagxian Liberation Fronts. May it serve to expel the foreign invader from both our lands.”

“Thank you,” the boy translated as Captain Diệm bowed in gratitude. “I cannot speak for the whole of the Nagxian Liberation Front, but my sect now owes Lord Kien a great debt.”

Diplomat Zhāng smiled. “It is a debt that can be repaid by merely continuing your fight against the Foreign Imperialists. Doma asks no more than that.”

“If that is the case, then we will repay it tenfold,” Captain Diệm said, gesturing for the boy to return to the sampan. “I will now take my leave, we will lead you upriver to our first stop and then trek the rest of the way up into the highlands. Our porters will unload your vessel there and your crew can carry your gifts to our waystation.”

With that the Nagxian officer leapt back into their boat with his translator in tow. Unleashing their craft, the boy unlocked the rudder of the sampan and led them towards a nearby estuary–ensuring that their guests did not dash themselves against the corals on the way in.

--

“Thoughts?” Hideshi asked Ruì Yīng, noticing her interest in the boy who steered the lead vessel.

“Is he a candidate?”.

“The boy?” Hideshi paused for thought. “Yes, yes he most definitely is.”

“Where’s his handler?” Ruì Yīng let the question hang as if to make a point. Making it clear that she knew enough about the Kōhai Project to know that Captain Diệm was definitely not a handler. “I didn’t know we were allowed to be unsupervised.”

Hideshi grunted. “Being Kōhaishi has nothing to do with your supervision. You’re a girl.” her handler stated as if it explained everything.

The revelation had unexpectedly sparked her temper ablaze. “What has that got to do with anything?” Ruì Yīng sneered, “you’re telling me that in the years I studied under you, you’ve not given me one moment of peace–not one iota of privacy–because I’m a girl?”

“Yes,” Hideshi responded dismissively. He was amused at her anger, and shot her a look that one might give an upset puppy. “For your own protection.”

“Protection from what!?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you? Men, honorless men.” Hideshi’s expression soured. “You must be blind if you haven’t noticed that the Liberation Front has its fair share of them. Do you know what they do to girls like you? They steal you from your bunk, rape you, and if they don’t murder you after, they sell you to Comfort Stations for the Garleans to use. That fate is what I’m protecting you from.”

“I would love to see them try,” she replied. “I’d cut them to ribbons.”

“I’m surprised I managed to each a girl as stupid as you.” Hideshi spat. “I may have turned you into a killer but do you seriously believe you can take on a group of grown men by yourself? Three perhaps. But five? Ten? Twenty?” her handler questioned the girl with a look of disdain, and she returned a deathly stare. “Your ego outmatches your strength, girl.” he continued, “you may not be weak, but you are still a girl, vulnerable to the whims of men. Who can, and have, marred our reputation with such acts. You best reflect on this–or do I have to beat this lesson into you as well?”

There was a violence to his words–a visceral violence that was tailored to serve both to frighten her and as an excuse for his own actions. That for all of his abuses, from never having a lock on her door to her virtual isolation whilst in training—it was all in service to prevent his given alternative. That by virtue of her sex, she was the one to blame for his poor behaviour.

Ruì Yīng felt rage burning inside her like she had never experienced before but, again, she said nothing.

Instead, she swallowed it all.

She had to.

--

They sailed upriver for the rest of the day, winding in serpentine shapes through the jungle. It became obvious to Ruì Yīng how Nagxia, in its twenty odd years of warfare, had never fully been pacified. Though official Garlean records stated they were under Imperial occupation, it was clear that resistance fighters could easily continue their operations deep in the Nagxian jungles undisturbed. She imagined that the vegetation was so thick that the Liberation Front could hide an entire battalion of troops on the riverside alone.

Reaching their first destination, a village known for its surrounding rapids, they docked at a hastily constructed pier where volunteers stood ready to unload Lord Kien’s gifts for the local insurgents.

Once the junk had been properly docked, Diplomat Zhāng rushed past the others.

“Out of the way!” he cried, sprinting off to relieve himself downriver.

Watching from their sampan, Captain Diệm exchanged a few words with the Doman boy and sent him sprinting after their guest.

“Diplomat Zhāng!” the boy shouted after him, but the man kept running.

“Not now, boy!” the Diplomat yelled as he left the village limits, ploughing through a grassy clearing and straight into the jungle.

The boy swore to himself and gave chase, running as if his life depended on it— A speed that was quickly justified by a blood curdling scream.

“He’s in danger,” Ruì Yīng said as she bolted after them.

When she finally bashed through the foliage towards the screaming Diplomat, she was greeted by the sight of a Nagxian Croc and a man who had just soiled himself. Between the cowering man and the beast was the Doman boy with both his swords drawn, slashing outwards in a flash of Nagxian steel.

Ruì Yīng drew her Dāo, and threw herself into combat to join him, striking the Croc in the flank so hard she threatened to maim one of its limbs. The boy repositioned himself, capitalising on her assistance, then charged in to make a clean cross cut on its snout with both his swords, driving the creature back into the river.

When Hideshi finally caught up to them, the boy was already dragging the Diplomat by the collar of his robe. He shoved the man in the direction of the Doman party.

“I will say this once,” the boy spoke to them, for the first time, as himself. “While you are in our care, you will eat what we give you to eat, and shit where we tell you to shit. And most importantly if you do not wish to die, you will respect the jungles of Nagxia.” The boy paused and looked each of them in the eyes. “Perhaps what the Nagxians mean by ‘respect’ doesn’t translate well in Hingan. So let me rephrase. You will ‘act properly’ when dealing with the jungle and you will ‘venerate’ it as you would a god. This is not Doma, where we seek harmony with the land. Nagxia can and will kill you. Here, the jungles have a hunger that only death can sate and when you die, as all things do here, not a bit of you will be wasted. It is as much your enemy as the Garleans are.”

“Who are you?” Diplomat Zhāng mumbled as he tried in vain to salvage his dignity.

“Kōhaishi Sawashiro,” the boy said, cleaning each of his daab blades of Nagxian origin before sheathing them one by one over his shoulders.

Hideshi cleared his throat. “Who is your handler?”

“Sensei Shinmen,” Sawashiro replied in an instant. “He’s been expecting you, Sato-dono.”

Hideshi’s eyes widened. “Is he here?”

The boy shook his head. “He waits at the temple fortress of The Blessed Cliffs. We’ll begin travelling there under the cover of night. But before that, you are at your first stop in our journey. You may rest in the village until nightfall.”

“You said he’s expecting me, what for?” The handler asked, with more nervous energy in his voice that he’d care to admit.

“He wants to hear about your thoughts on your Kōhaishi,” Sawashiro stated before giving Ruì Yīng a short and sharp nod of acknowledgement. ”He says that she’s supposed to be the strongest candidate in the history of the Project to date.” -- Part 2

[originofjaehyun]

Prelude: After Story | Part 1 | Punch

Prelude: After Story Masterlist

Word count: 2,929

Warnings: None

Part 1 | Punch

“‘Cause I’m a clean fighter.”

Next

Read Interlude: No More Drama

Tag list: @justineasian​ @elauniesdream 

“Make sure you tell him how you felt.”

The remark only received a giggle from the other party. “I’m not promising anything, Yuta. It will take time.”

Yuta took a final glance. There’s a hint of despair in the way he looked at her. “You packed everything?”

She nods. “I think so. Let me know if I left something. Well, that if you don’t mind. Else, you can throw them away.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know.” He smirked. There’s a pregnant pause before he continues. “I’ll see you when I see you, [Y/N]. Until then, please be well.”

Yuta could see she welled up, holding up her tears. He wished he could hug her and tell her that it will be fine, but that only contradicted the brave front he showed to her.

She finally waves her final goodbye, closing the door. It is a signal for Yuta to finally embrace his sadness. Legs gave in, he immediately crouched down, sighing.

“Damn, who would’ve thought I could fall for someone this much?” Brushing the hair that covers his forehead, he asked himself, with no one to answer.

Yuta walked to his bathroom, thinking that he would cool his head by taking a brisk shower. He took off his shirt, pausing in front of the sink before he entered the shower booth. He stared at his own reflection, blankly. No thoughts, head is empty. He just needs his time to process and to cope with his own heartbreak.

There are few objects that don't belong to him, and by then he noticed that she forgot to visit the bathroom when she cleared her stuff, leaving her toothbrush behind. He curled one side of his lips up, sighing regretfully before throwing the toothbrush to the trash bin nearby.

This is so I can forget about her faster.

Yuta taught to himself, before spotting another foreign item.

A pair of rose gold stud earrings. Yuta knows his pieces of jewelry because he never took off his. The simple design of the earrings is also a bit too plain for his liking, and the owner of them is no other than the person who just left this place.

He grabs it, about to throw them away. But hesitates, gripping the earrings inside his palm. 

Yuta looks at the earring once more.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the only part of you that I could keep?

–

Days pass per normal for Yuta. Except that the people around him notice that he’s anything but it.

“You alright, bro?” Doyoung tapped his shoulder, waking Yuta from his daze.

“What do you mean?” Yuta leans to the wall, inhaling his IQOS.

“I don’t know man, you’re off these days.” Doyoung took a sip of his grapefruit drink. “It seems like you have something on your mind. Have you talked to [Y/N] about it?”

Ah, so she hasn’t told him.

Yuta thought to himself, not responding to Doyoung as he drew out a translucent smoke.

“She might not be the best at giving advice, cause even she had a hard time figuring out herself. But I promise she’s a good listener, I’m sure she'll be able to give you some sort of comfort.”

Yuta just nodded to his statement.

He nodded because he himself knew how comfortable it was to be around her.

–

Yuta holds grudges. It was hard for him to admit it at first, but eventually, he accepts the annoying part of his personality. Fast forward five months after she left, Yuta still refused to go out. This clearly weirded everyone out since Yuta is the social butterfly. For him to reject their offer to visit the bar after office makes the lines on their foreheads more apparent than ever.

Yuta just needs some time, alone. He doesn’t know for how long, but what he knows is that he’s just not in the mood to put on a fake happy smile when his own heart is like a shipwreck.

So he spent another night in at his apartment, opening a bottle of rye whiskey. Truthfully, Yuta prefers sweeter booze –something that is more fruity like his usual Cassis Orange. However these days, those cocktails couldn’t shred his woe. He needs something stronger. He needs to be able to feel the burning sensation on his chest, replacing the pain of his heartache.

He went off to flump into the leather couch, putting down the glass of whiskey. He grabs the remote, browsing through the Netflix catalog. He stops, at one move named Kimi no Na wa.

He probably already watched this for million times. He loves this movie. Not only because of the well-executed animation and storyline, but it also reminds him of home.

And it painfully reminds him of her too. How she loved anime, and how her eyes glimmered every time Yuta told her a fun fact about Japanese culture.

“Did you know there’s a trivia behind her name?”

“Who? Mitsuha?”

Yuta nods, “Her name means three leaves. Funnily enough, it started from her grandmother, Hitoha which means one leaf. And you guessed it, her mother’s name, Futaba, means two leaves and her little sister, Yotsuha, is four leaves.”

“Whoa!” She shrieked excitedly. “That’s cute!”

Yuta laughed at the sight of her getting excited over something simple like this. It’s nothing much for a Japanese man like him, but for her it’s something new and Yuta finds it very adorable.

If she was still here, he would cross his arm over her shoulder. Cuddling her.

But right now, all he could do is to rest his arm on the backrest of his couch. The only warmth that he could feel is from the whiskey.

Unable to focus on the movie, so he diverted his attention to see his phone.

Oh, how he regrets it.

He saw her social. She was with a group of people that Yuta knew from that party. But his finger reactively clicked on one of the tagged name’s profiles.

Just to see him posted a photo of her. It was a candid photo, the person captured in the picture seemingly asked the photographer to stop. Her hands were blurred because she attempted to cover her mouth.

But she wasn’t quick enough to stop the photographer from capturing her smile. A smile so bright Yuta knew he wasn’t able to create. A smile that Yuta definitely misses.

The agony he felt amplified once he read the capture below the photo.

“I was yours, before I knew; and you have always been mine too.”

Yuta rolled his tongue over his front teeth. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he is the one who let her go. But he is pissed, throwing his phone away. 

He moves his palms to cover his eyes, resting his head. He lets out another sigh, but no matter how much he exhaled, no matter how much alcohol he drank, the rain cloud seems to follow him around.

“Fuck this shit.” He hummed to himself.

He took his phone again, this time opening a different app. It took him a bit longer this time, but at least whatever he was doing, managed to put a smile on Yuta’s face.

He then proceeds to dial a number.

“Hello, Doy? I’ll take a week off. I’m flying to Osaka tomorrow.”

–

“How could you come back home without noticing us?”

Yuta puts down his bag, worn out from the flight, “I can’t even visit my own home now, Nee-san?”

“What I meant was,” His sister crossed his arm. “Last time you visited Osaka, you’d stay at the hotel because you wouldn’t stay long. Mostly due to your business trip. What makes you suddenly miss home?”

“I just feel like taking some days off, Nee-san.” He replied without looking at this sister, busy unpacking his stuff. “Also, Imouto has been texting me, telling me to bring her some signed goods from TVXQ.”

“Well if you said so,”  Her sister knows how stubborn Yuta is, so she decides that she won’t press him further. “Come down when you’re ready. If only you told us you were coming earlier, mom would’ve cooked us Nabe. But we don’t have the ingredients, so you have to settle with curry tonight.”

Yuta finally looked back to smile at his sister, “Curry sounds great, Nee-san.”

–

It’s great to be home, Yuta thought to himself. 

The familiar road. People talking in his mother language. Food that is catered to fit his taste buds. He loves Korea, and everything it has to offer, but nothing could replace home.

“My, Yuta is that you?!” An elderly woman called for him, snapping him from his day daze.

“Oh, Baa-chan!” Yuta subconsciously lets out his signature radiant smile. “How are you? I hope your back is fine now.”

“Oh, you’re as sweet as I could remember, Yuta!” She giggled. “You never visit your home, this Baa-chan misses you a lot, you know? I don’t know how to use… what do they call those these days? Line?”

Yuta laughed. “Yes, Line, Baa-chan.”

“Right, I can’t contact you! You should come home more often. I could write you a letter but I don’t know your address in Korea.”

“I miss you too, Baa-chan. Sorry, I promise to visit again.”

Baa-chan sells taiyaki in his neighborhood. Yuta is her regular customer, and she has witnessed how much Yuta grew from a small boy who aspires to be an Ultraman to a successful businessman he is right now. Yuta settled on the bench in front of Baa-chan’s store, filling her with the missing information pieces where Yuta finally left home for his career.

“Now take this,” She offered him a bag of taiyakis.

“Oh, no Baa-chan. Let me pay,” He rustles his pant pocket, trying to find his wallet.

“My dear Yuta!” She pushes the paper bag to him, “This is a gift from me, as a thank you for visiting this old lady. Next time, bring your friend here so they can pay instead. Baa-chan wants to see your friends, I want to make sure they are good people.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. Baa-chan is always kind, and it touches his heart. Yuta treats her like she’s her own grandmother. “I’ll note that, Baa-chan.”

He waves goodbye to her and marches his way to a nearby park. The park used to be so big for the small Yuta. He used to think it would take forever to catch a ball that flies after his friend kicked it too high. But now that he’s a full-grown man, he even wonders how the hell he was able to play soccer with his friend in this field. 

He sits down at the bench, taking a bite of the fresh taiyaki. Baa-chan’s taiyaki is the best. It might be a biased opinion, but every bite is like a memory lane for Yuta. The irreplaceable taste of childhood.

The dusk is near, and there is no child laughter at these hours since all of them have their curfews. With nothing to keep him entertained, he unlocked his phone, casually browsing through his social before pausing his munching at one post.

“Can’t believe this man asked me to spend the rest of my life with him while I’m about to throw the trash away. I hope your future daughter will experience a much more romantic proposal, you weirdo.”

Involuntarily the red bean paste from his bread squirted out, due to the fact Yuta unconsciously squeezed them. Was it out of anger? Out of disappointment? Or out of regret?

His blood is boiling, and with nobody around, nothing stops him. Yuta is usually calm, but right now he just wants to transfer the excessive anger somewhere. Heck, the tree next to him can be his punching bag.

My mom always told me to finish my meal so you’re not leaving until you eat everything.

But right now, Yuta is unable to take another bite. He even forced whatever he had left on his mouth down to his throat.

Why did I let you go?

He scoffed, mocking his own thought, “Damn, what a pathetic person you are, Yuta.”

-

Your first impression on Yuta is probably how strong his aura is. His gaze is sharp, complemented with a well-chiseled jawline. So you would never think that the same person has a sensitive soul. Ever since his trip to Japan, the Nakamato residence in Seoul is always decorated with fresh flowers, handpicked by Yuta himself. This is his way of finding peace. He always wanted to have a pet, but his busy schedule makes him unable to own one. Instead, he’s been paying more attention to greeneries in his home. He said it was a therapy for him, and having a living plant makes the place alive, so he claims.

The bell on the door jingles after Yuta pushes the door open, cueing the staff who were busy arranging a bouquet to greet him.

“Welcome to Paradise!”

Yuta nods at the staff, telling her to continue with her arrangement and let him browse the flower catalog by himself.

Soon after, the bell jingles once more —only to reveal a young man with a sparkly eyes.

“Sorry, __! Taeyong left his apron behind so I have to make a visit to Kitchen Beat first.”

The person at the counter chuckled, “Don’t sweat it, Mark. We’re not that busy today anyway.”

“Let me put my bag first, then I’ll help to cut the stems of the carnations—“ Mark’s eyes grow bigger once he sees the familiar figure. “Yuta-hyung? Ah, I mean, Sir!”

Yuta turned at the sound of his name. “Oh, if it isn’t Mark!”

“Didn’t expect you to come here, Sir.”

“You can talk to me comfortably, Mark. We’re no strangers.” Yuta smiles. “Fancy seeing you here, too. Are you part-timing here?”

Mark nods. “Other than my job as an English tutor, working here actually calms me down. Maybe the flower gives the peaceful atmosphere?”

Yuta hummed, agreeing with his statement.

“Also, I can rest a bit because working here is not as busy as working at a cafe.” Mark continues, “Though we’re going to be busy pretty soon since Jaehyun-hyung ordered so many orchids for his wedding. Man, not just any orchid! If only he knows how difficult it is to obtain—“

Mark stopped at the sight of Yuta’s awkward face.

“Shit, Mark, how could you forget that he was your Noona’s ex-lover.”

He whispered to himself, but the store was fairly quiet with only faint instrumental song in the background —enabling Yuta to listen to each of his words clearly.

Your noona.

“Mark, go change to your uniform.” A female voice breaks the tension, flinching Mark who reactively gives Yuta a deep bow afterward.

Yuta definitely needs time to process what just happened. Pressing his lips together while occasionally biting the skin.

“A cheerful young boy, isn’t he?”

Yuta woke up from his daydream following her calm voice. “Mark is energetic, and I love how positive his energy is. Though sometimes, that can cause him to be slightly dense, too.”

Yuta couldn’t help but to let a single soft chuckle.

“So please forgive him, yeah? I’m sorry I couldn’t help but to overheard your conversation. Don’t take it to the heart, Mark was probably too excited. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. No offense is taken. I just need some time to digest it.”

“Take your time,” she continued with her bouquet, tying up the ribbon as the final touch. “Though, if I could suggest, I think our daffodils are very pretty today.”

“Daffodils?”

“Yes, the yellow ones on that corner,” she pointed at a bunch of yellow flowers. “I’ll help you with a bunch. It’s on a house, as an apology from making you uncomfortable just now. Are you going to put it on a vase like the usual or are you going to give it to someone?”

Yuta widened his eyes, quickly shook his head, “Oh please no need, I’m not offended by all means.”

“As the owner of this shop, I insist, Sir.”

Yuta hesitates, but eventually gives in. “The usual. Actually, a single bloom is fine. I would feel bad, you know, if you're going to give me a bunch. Business is still business after all.”

His remarks only caused the other party to scoff, “Our business is doing well, Sir. So please don’t fret on it. Anyway, it would mean a different thing if I don’t give you in a bunch.”

“Different thing?”

“Ah,” She closes her mouth with her hand. “Don’t mind too much on it.”

-

After spending the whole day outside, all Yuta needs is a refreshing shower to wash down his sweat. He placed his new floral arrangement on his dining table, before taking his shirt off when he walked towards the bathroom. He threw his shirt to the laundry bag, and unlocked his phone, ready to play his shower playlist.

Bunch of daffodils?

He suddenly remembered how the florist mentioned the different meaning of daffodils. He quickly changed the tab, typing the question on Google.

Smirk appeared on his face, after so many days shied away from the surface.

“Rebirth and new beginnings, huh?” He said to himself. “How cheeky.”

He puts down his phone on the countertop, resting his arms at the sink before looking at himself in the mirror.

Yuta is determined.

He picks up his phone once more, dialing a number.

“Doyoung, do you know the best hair salon here?”

A/N: We’re back with this!! I’m so so excited to continue this hehe~ To be honest... continuing this series gives me a lot of anxiety. What if the audience don’t like it? What if the one who loves Interlude won’t like my approach on continuing the story in Yuta’s POV? At some point it was difficult for me to write this, but as I persistently write this, it became more and more enjoyable and eventually those thoughts don’t appear as much!

Another thing to note, to prevent any confusion, the reader for Prelude will be ___ instead of the usual [Y/N]. [Y/N] belongs to Interlude! So think of her as another character for Prelude!

Also again, I’d like to remind you guys again since there’s only three additional songs, this would be a mini-series instead of a full series like Interlude. But hopefully, you would still give Prelude tons of love too!

[moody-bloosh]

mirror, mirror (Illuso)

for some reason, i was in a bit of a fairy tale mood. so here’s my take on snow white ~! fem!reader too btw im sorry i couldn’t make it gender neutral :( here’s one of the passion projects I’ve been working on since last year <3 <3 I hope you all like it! 

tagging @a-nonnie-mousse​ bc she’s the only other illuso stan i personally know <3

content warning: yandere, manipulation, mind break, homicide, gore 

As the newest addition to the king’s harem, the latest flower in his blooming garden, you knew you should be thankful for the opportunity. For someone like you born the second daughter of some countryside lord, a spot in the king’s harem meant comfort, riches, and if you were so inclined, power. 

But for the sweet and simple you, you were already happy to be allowed such a privilege. There was no greater honor than to serve the king, you believed. Besides, some part of you marveled over how romantic it was. Innocently, you imagined that perhaps in the palace, the king would show you the love and affection you’d only known of in passing, just like the ones you were so fond of reading about in your books. 

And so even though it pained you to uproot yourself from your home, the only world you had ever known. You had taken the king’s outstretched hand and agreed to be his newest concubine. 

On your first day in the harem, the king gifts you with a mirror. A large ornate, full length mirror inlaid with pearls and gold. How it had filled your heart with so much love and adoration, you’d never had such finery back at home. 

Oh, if only you’d known that this was common practice for the king. 

If only you were a little wiser to the nuances of the palace. 

If only you had known better, you would have tried harder to seduce the king. You would have worked even harder to try and secure allies. But you did not know any better. You were the second daughter of a countryside lord and you were not wise at all to the politics that brewed in court. 

Before you knew it you were painfully alone. Seeing that the king was beginning to tire of you, the other concubines took it upon themselves to curry favor with him again. Pushed to the side, alone, isolated, you yearned for your home and yet you could not return. 

You were the king’s concubine now and you were his property. 

You had nobody in this painfully beautiful palace. Consigning yourself to a slow and silent decay, you decided to keep to yourself. Your heart too fragile to keep up with courtly intrigue and the painful words of the other concubines. 

All you had now were your books. Your books and your beautiful mirror. 

One lonely afternoon, you were lying in bed, reading when you heard the most peculiar thing. A distinctly male voice sounded through your room. Too youthful, too deep to be the king’s. You froze, fearful of an intruder. You held the book close to your chest, a makeshift weapon as you looked around your room. 

Your room looked painfully ordinary. Looking here and there for any sign of an intruder, you hesitantly walked around your room. 

“Over here~” 

You froze immediately. 

D-did the mirror just talk?! 

Bringing your hands up to your mouth to suppress the frightened scream that threatened to tear out of your throat, you considered the mirror once more. It was painfully maddening in its normalcy. Perhaps...perhaps you were just imagining things. Hesitantly, you gently brushed your hand against the mirror’s surface. When nothing happened, you breathed a sigh of relief and your expression softened once more. 

Maybe it was all just your imagination. 

“That’s a nice expression,” the voice said again, “you look pretty when you smile.” 

Your heart falls and your expression falters, as the mirror in front of you reveals a handsome man. With hair tied up in neat pigtails and his eyes seeming to pierce through you, you trembled. Biting back another scream, you found your knees buckling, too frightened of the supernatural happenings. 

However, before you could find yourself tumbling down to the floor, you felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you safe and secure. Looking up into the stranger’s eyes you found yourself transfixed by its beauty. Red eyes glittering like precious rubies, full, soft-looking lips curled into a smug smile that sent your heart pattering wildly against your chest. 

Illuso smirked. 

“See something you like, your highness?” 

“I-I...” 

You trail off, too confused by the sudden turn of events. 

“Hm? A little tongue tied I see, I admit, I do have that effect on people~” 

“Y-you... the mirror...” 

“Ah yes, it’s an interesting ability isn’t it?” 

“Who are you?” 

Illuso caressed your cheek tenderly. He drank in your flustered, embarrassed expression. So adorable, so pure. Holding you closer and leaning forward so that his lips were merely inches away from yours, Illuso whispered. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be, your highness.” 

“T-then...” You said softly, shyly averting your gaze from him. 

Illuso hummed. Of course, not even you would be able to resist him. As if considering his words, you took a moment to think before you looked back at him. He was still holding you tightly. Your heart pounded fiercely against your chest as you opened your mouth to tell him your wish. 

“Will you be my friend?” 

Illuso is true to his words, you find. Soon, the boring days you were trapped in began to be filled with happy memories that you would spend with Illuso. You found yourself smiling more often recently. Some days you would catch yourself smiling as you selected books for you and Illuso to read from the library or you would find yourself thinking of what he might like to have for tea that day. 

Naturally, the other residents of the castle begin to take notice of the sudden shift in your behavior. The concubines would gossip, jealous about how you could devour so much snacks by yourself and still retain your lovely figure. Suddenly, they were inviting you to spend time with them, to read with them, to be with them as they went about their sewing. You were pleased to discover that they weren’t as terrible as you had initially thought. Soon enough, you were swept away in tea parties and plays and private viewings at esteemed art galleries. 

It made you a little anxious at first to spend so much time with such intimidating noble ladies, you began to ease up around them. Even though at first, you had been loathe to part with Illuso, you found yourself spending less and less time with him. At the very least, you would make time in your evenings to sit with Illuso and tell him about your day. You would apologize that you couldn’t spend as much time with him as you had used to. And though he wasn’t one to openly complain you did take note of his huffy demeanor and promise to make it up to him soon. Sadly, and much to Illuso’s displeasure, you never really were able to keep your promises to him. 

Even, the king himself had taken notice of you. Your innocent joy and sweetness reminding him of why he had taken you to be one of his concubines in the first place. That was another thing you needed to be grateful to Illuso for. You had regained the king’s favor. You would cheerfully spin around in front of Illuso showing off the new dresses and the pretty jewelry the king would lavish onto you. You would tell him how happy you were that the king was finally paying attention to you again, blissfully unaware of the jealousy in his eyes. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Illuso,” you said to him. “If you hadn’t rescued me from loneliness then I would have spent the rest of my life sulking alone.” 

You grasped his hands gently, looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face. You looked at him so adoringly, so reverently. The sight of you, looking at him so lovingly had his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He worried that you would hear it. 

“I’m so very grateful for you,” you told him, giving him a small, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, my dearest friend.” 

Something ugly and dark rears its head in Illuso’s heart. 

Was that really all you saw him as? A friend? 

No. No. He couldn’t accept that. He would not accept that. 

You were his Queen, the only bright light in his dark world. And he was your savior, wasn’t he? The reason you had even begun to smile again, the one who had saved you from a dull life. 

As you spoke to him about the king, that wretched vile bastard who dared to monopolize your time, he thought long and hard about how he would bring you back into his arms. 

All he wanted was for you to be his and only his again. 

It is all too easy for Illuso to slink around unnoticed and whisper slanderous words about you to the other concubines. Soon enough they do his job for him, he watches as you are shunned once more. The target of vicious bullying and vitriol. You would quietly tell Illuso all about the horrifying ordeals you were forced to endure. And he would play the part of your every loyal, always understanding friend. 

You are the fairest of them all,” Illuso whispers, his tone as sweet as honey, and his touch so inviting. 

“They are simply jealous of you, my Queen,” Illuso would say, sweet, comforting, “you know that they are nothing compared to you.” 

His red eyes glimmered like rubies as he leaned out of the mirror, his lips coming dangerously close to your own. “I hate to see you so sad...” 

“Just say the words your majesty,” he says sweetly. “I’ll take care of them for you.” 

You aren’t as foolish or as innocent as Illuso thinks. Spending so much time in his company, it was only inevitable that you’d come to be corrupted too. You know full well what Illuso means when he offers to take care of your problem. Your fingers clench, ruining the delicate fabric of the new dress the king had given you. If Illuso notices the conflicted look on your face, he doesn’t comment on it. 

“Please,” you whisper. “Please help me, Illuso.” 

Lately, you wake up with tears in your eyes. Every night, Illuso would come to you with a smile on his face. Every morning, a new corpse would be found. Each and every death hangs on your conscience, makes you wash your hands and clean yourself with a little too much vigor. Tensions rise in the palace, the other concubines beg the king to let them leave. Your numbers dwindle and dwindle until only you and a handful of other noble ladies are left. 

You are the King’s favorite and you have lasted the longest. 

When he crowns you Queen as thanks for your loyalty, you assume that maybe this time you will be happy. You confide in Illuso and as always he nods and tells you that he is happy that you are to be Queen. 

When you tell him that you are excited to move into the king’s quarters, he stills. But he does not let any of his unsightly jealousy show. Instead, he digs his nails into his palm, hard enough to draw blood. He keeps up his gentle facade at least until you fall asleep. He watches you sleep, you sleep peacefully for the first time since his killings. He takes in the soft rise and fall of your chest and when you turn over to the other side, he finally makes his move. 

Stepping out of the mirror, he softly pads over to you. Caressing your cheek, he leans forward to plant a delicate kiss on your lips, just as he had done every night since he had ascertained his feelings for you. 

He thinks, thinks as hard as he can about a way to keep you out of that disgusting king’s clutches. It takes him a moment or two before he understands. Illuso chuckles softly, as the solution comes to him. Painfully simple. 

He just had to get rid of the king.  

The newest addition to the king’s harem: a sweet girl with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. She was beautiful, so painfully beautiful you felt physically sick in her presence. When she is introduced to the king, he gives her a mirror. 

Almost identical to the one he gave you. 

As you are prone to do now, you run to Illuso. You ask him, voice dripping with betrayal and heartbreak how many? Illuso has the gall to look surprised and that breaks you just the slightest bit. 

“I know, Illuso. I know I’m not special. Tell me how many concubines have you offered your friendship? Your companionship? Did you give them something more?” 

And oh, how quick he is to step out of his mirror and hold you in his strong arms. Blanketing you in a warmth, you were loathe to admit you wanted. 

“Only you, my Queen, it’s always been just you.” 

“Then why me? Why someone like me?!” 

“Because,” and with his free hand, he hooks his index finger under your chin, prompting you to look him in the eye. “You are the fairest of them all.” 

The fairest? Really? How stupid did Illuso think you were? You looked so pathetic, so shameful reflected in his eyes. As if scalded by his sincere words, you try to tear your gaze away from his but you find yourself transfixed by him. He was handsome, he could have anyone in the harem. Before you can even say anything else, Illuso kisses you. 

And it is sweeter than any wine, more passionate than anything you’ve ever experienced, you close your eyes as you give in to his affections. The kiss is brief but you find that it is enough. 

When he caresses your cheek, you can’t help but blush as you lean in to his touch. You’ve never known what it truly meant to be wanted, to be desired. To be loved. You’d never received the love you truly wanted, the love Illuso was so willing to give you.

When he leans in to kiss you, you lean forward to meet him halfway. When his hands begin to rove around, you let him. 

You wanted him to give you the love you were so desperate for. And he was kind enough to acquiesce over and over through the night. 

Even now, the people still whisper about that dreadful day when the Queen had invited the king and all his concubines to a banquet, how she had given them all beautifully baked apple tarts, how even though she had taken a bite of one of those apple tarts she had survived the deadly poison within them. 

No one had dared to oppose you, dissenters were hushed, even people who would whisper insults about you would suddenly be found hanged in the town’s square. 

The New Queen is a witch. The New Queen was granted powers by the Devil, himself. 

The New Queen is always talking to her mirror. 

You were crying again, hysterical and of course, only Illuso could soothe you. 

Just as he had wanted. 

“It’s so terrible what the peasants call you,” Illuso had murmured softly as you nuzzled closer to him, “they call you the Evil Queen, the Mad Queen, even.” 

Illuso sighed as he cupped your tearstained face to wipe away your tears, “oh, if only they knew how lovely you really are.” 

You clung to Illuso all the more, you held him as if he was  your only hope and in a way he was. You don’t sleep well at night anymore. The images of that gruesome banquet forever imbedded in your mind. How they all retched and vomited blood after taking a bite of the apple tarts, how the king desperately grabbed your neck, trying to take you down with him until Illuso had appeared to slit his throat. 

In this horrible, horrible world, you could lean only on Illuso. He was the only one in this world who really loved you, and how fortunate you were to find someone like him.

Illuso cups your cheeks, using the pads of his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

So lucky, you were so lucky to find someone like Illuso. Illuso drinks in the devotion, the ardor in your eyes like it is the finest of wines. Smiling as he leans forward to seal a passionate kiss on your lips once more, you are only too desperate to please him. 

“My darling, my Queen, my _____. You truly are the fairest of them all.” 

[revasserium]

karasuno #2 - quiet

daichi. 

it’s a steady, solid sort of thing, the kind of thing that takes up physical space, even if it doesn’t really, and it’s those times he’d reach for you, just an arm around your waist to pull you closer, or a finger along your cheek, tracing the contours and lines of you, as if to remind himself that at least you are still real, and so somehow, someway, he must be too. it’s usually not an uncomfortable thing; sometimes it’s just the lull between one breath and another, or the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your palms as he dozes on the couch after a particularly long day, or maybe when he’s studying, a tenseness to his shoulders that you’ll eventually reach out to sooth over with your hands and a sweet smile. he’d smile back then, and maybe he’ll say thank you, or maybe he doesn’t need to, because the quiet pulsing between you is all you need to know exactly what he means. 

sugawara. 

it’s a simple sort of thing, relaxed, routine, almost -- light, dancing between you like fairies during a midsummer’s night, full of laughter and mischief. he’s always smiling when he’s with you, and at first, perhaps he’d been too nervous to be comfortable with the silence, but now, after both of you have relaxed into the contours of each other’s lives, it comes as easy as breathing, settling like first snow around you at night when you’re curled up reading on the couch, tucked into his side, him scrolling through the latest sports magazine or travel catalog, occasionally dropping a kiss into your hair; you think that if the quiet could be a physical thing, then the quiet between the pair of you must be made of feathers. 

asahi. 

its a long, drawn out, nervous kind of thing, because he always has too many things he wants to say and not enough words to say them with -- he can’t even begin to choose which words, and then if they’d fit right -- it takes you a while to acclimate to his particular brand of quiet, the kind that’s strung with the tension of wondering if this is comfortable, or good for you, or if he’s done something wrong. but once you convince him, with a kiss, or a smile, or your fingers through his, the quiet settles, dissipates, like twisting breath on a winter morning, there, and gone again. this is your favorite kind of quiet, and his too, the kind that strums with the knowledge that there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be. 

nishinoya. 

it’s a rare, peaceful kind of thing. when he’s finished telling you about his day, how it went, the weird lady on the bus ride back home who wouldn’t stop yelling into her phone about some kind of purse, about the curry bun that he had for lunch that day, and the juice box that he’d found in his locker, but it was overdue so he had to throw it away. and after you’ve told him about your day, the way the guy sitting behind you in class got yelled at again for dozing off in the middle of a lecture (”you think he’d have learned by now! but i guess i do that a lot too...”) and the strawberries you’d brought for lunch that day (”oh! we got those together! but i ate all mine in one sitting, remember? yeah i got a stomachache afterwards...”) and how the usual stray cat wasn’t there on your walk home (”really? what do you think happened to her? i hope she’s okay.”). that’s when the quiet comes, in the comfort and lull between conversations, in the way he smiles as he digs into yet another quart of icecream (”but i worked so hard today at practice! i deserve this”) and you steal bites from his spoon. he’d never realized that so much can be said in the bump of a shoulder or the flutter of an eyelash or a quirk of the lips, but he learns, oh, he learns. 

tanaka.

it’s a heavy, thick, churning kind of thing, where neither of you know what to say but both of you know that something needs to be said. and yet still, you let the quiet sit and stretch between you, molten and sticky, like spilled honey, though not always so sweet. he’d never known that fights could be so quiet, and now that he knew, he thinks he’d prefer it if you screamed instead; but you don’t, and he doesn’t either, because he could never really be angry at you for long, and he’d do anything to make it all go away, to bring back your smile, the crinkle by your eyes, the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh. so he reaches for your hand, a tentative little touch at first, and when you don’t pull away, he laces your fingers and gives you a squeeze. you hesitate, but after a moment, you squeeze back, and he takes a breath, and you take a breath, and somehow, even though neither of you has said a single thing, he knows you’ll be alright. 

tsukishima. 

it’s a thin, strung out, teasing sort of thing, the way he tilts his head and lets the quiet linger, waiting for the first breath of realization, the first swing of a punchline he’s been waiting to hit all day. he wields the quiet the way assassins wield daggers, all silver tongue and shadows, sharpened on the raw edge of his wit and hunger. the silence may be still but it’s never static, his thoughts always running ahead of you both, thinking too much or maybe just enough, on what to do next -- the infinite possibilities. but you learn to play his game, because you’re nothing short of brilliant, and soon he finds himself coughing or blushing at the hint of a smile, the breath of a tease dancing along your lips like candlelit shadows. he learns, quietly, to swallow his pride once in a while, to open up, every so often, and to accept that he’s finally met his match. when he finally admits this to you, don’t don’t say anything -- you just look at him. and tilt your head. and smile. 

kageyama. 

it’s normal, everyday sort of thing, because he’d never been too great with words, so the quiet is his default mode of function. but there’s an art of the mastery of silence, and kageyama is nothing if not a genius (at least at the things he’s good at); it takes a while for you to get used to, the way he goes quiet when he’s thinking really hard, or concentrating on thinking really hard, or trying to not concentrate on thinking too hard. there are so many brands of silence with him that it’s almost like learning a new language, one where each and every breath has meaning folded into its crest and wave, where each tap of the fingers and twist of the wrist speaks multitudes in their own right. but he teaches you, patiently, quietly, because you’re worth it, so his smile says, the one that he doesn’t show to the world because he still doesn’t think it’s good enough yet (you tell him with a kiss that that’s not how smiles work). he teaches you, and you learn, and in turn, he learns that sometimes, just sometimes, saying things out loud really isn’t the worst thing, and that no, hinata is not the best standard to measure people by because he’s just as strange. he learns that words can be beautiful too, like hey or i missed you or i love you and me too. 

hinata. 

it’s a strange, turbulent kind of thing, like the calm right before a thunderstorm, all crackling lightning still encased above bullet-gray clouds, the distant rumble of thunder rolling in like an alarm bell. because even the sun gets tired sometimes, hiding behind a thick sheen of untamed sky, unsure of what to do and how to do it -- unsure, so unsure. you tell him that you’re not afraid of the darkness, that just because the sun isn’t here, doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. because the sun will always come back -- whether it be a day, a week, or a month, that it’s okay to let the quiet hang, let the storm clouds come, let out the rain and wind and all his lightning, because sometimes all he needs is to bury his head in the pillows and ignore the light, or put a fist through something breakable. so you trust him, and you trust that he’ll always come back, come back like cracking an egg over the horizon, watching the golden yolk seep into the sky with all its perfect breaking. and he doesn’t know how to thank you, so he doesn’t force himself to try to. because he knows just by the look in your eyes, that you understand. and when he finds you waiting for him on the street corner, the day breaking behind you with the early morning sun, he smiles and races up to you, tugging your hand in his, content to bask in the sunshine.