#like this restaurant was more expensive than we usually eat but dishes were in the 20 dollar range 😭 like pls just stfu and eat your food

[dioynsus]

my family are such fkn cheapskates like im mostly grateful to be raised to be pretty thrifty and sensible when it comes to money (out of necessity) but god forbid i want to go out to a semi-nice restaurant after receiving my fucking MASTERS degree and all anyone can do is complain about the prices of the food

[secular-jew]

Fish and Chips’ Surprising Jewish History. Jamie Oliver confirmed it!

You may be surprised to learn that fish and chips, though wildly popular in England for what seems like eternity, was actually a specialty of the Portuguese Sephardic Jews who fled the Inquisition in the 16th century and found refuge in the British Isles. Celebrity Chef Jamie Oliver referred to this recently in an article in the New York Times, adding that, “Dishes evolve, impacted by trade, war, famine and a hundred other forces.”

Among those “other forces” are dishes born of religious ritual. For observant Jews, fish is pareve, a neutral food in kosher terms, thus an easy way to avoid treyf (non-kosher food) and possibly include dairy in the same meal. It was especially important for Marranos, the so-called crypto-Jews, who pretended to be Christian during the Inquisition. They ate fish on Fridays, when meat was forbidden by the Church, and also saved some to eat cold the next day at lunch, to avoid cooking on Shabbat.

Frying was natural for Jewish home cooks — think of latkes and sufganyiot — and as the Jewish community began to flourish in England, it spurred a taste for its beloved fried, battered fish throughout the country. According to Claudia Roden’s The Book of Jewish Food, Thomas Jefferson tried some on a trip to London and noted that he ate “fish in the Jewish fashion” during his visit. Alexis Soyer, a French cook who became a celebrated chef in Victorian England included a recipe for “Fried Fish, Jewish Fashion” in the first edition of his cookbook A Shilling Cookery for the People (1845). Soyer’s recipe notes that the “Jewish manner” includes using oil rather than meat fat (presumably lard), which made the dish taste better, though also made it more expensive.

There’s some dispute about the where and when of “chips” (what we Americans call French fries and the French call pommes frites). Many historians say that deep-fried, cut-up potatoes were invented in Belgium and, in fact, substituted for the fish during hard times. The first time the word “chips” was used was in Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities in 1859: “husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant drops of oil.”

The official pairing of fish and chips didn’t happen until a few years later, though. Although there are some who dispute it, most authorities say that it is thanks to a Jewish cook, this time a young Ashkenazi immigrant named Joseph Malin, who opened the first British chippy, AKA fish and chip shop, in London in 1863. The shop was so successful it remained in business until the 1970s.

Who could foresee that fearful Jewish immigrants hiding their true religion and practicing in secret would be responsible for creating one of the most iconic dishes in the U.K.? The down-home dish that Winston Churchill claimed help the British defeat the Nazis, the comfort food that George Orwell said helped keep the masses happy and “averted revolution.” The dish, by the way, that was among the only foods never rationed during wartime because the British government believed that preserving access to it was a way of keeping up morale. A dish that continues to be a mainstay of the British diet.

Think about that the next time you find yourself feasting on this centuries-old — Jewish? British? — recipe.

These days, some restaurants are putting a new spin on fish and chips. Almond crusted. Baked instead of fried. Quinoa coated. Sweet potato fries instead of regular. And those are all fine; as Oliver says, “Dishes evolve.” But plain old fish and chips endures and probably always will. Good recipes usually do.

H/T : @scartale-an-undertale-au

Naveed Anjum

[khazadspoon]

Think it’s been more than a year since I last wrote anything. Here, some soft pre Peace Walker stuff.

———

“Would she really want this?”

The words were low, almost whispered, barely taking form beyond his lips. It was a question he never voiced even when it crawled over his skin and seeped into his nightmares - red flowers, slithering scars, the crash of gunfire, the question rushing at him from the soiled earth.

Kaz let out a questioning hum behind him. “You say something, Snake?”

He took a drag from the cigar between his thumb and forefinger, shook his head, turned to see his second in command shuffling papers into a neat pile.

“Nothing.”

The question burrowed back down into his stomach. He had spoken it aloud but no one heard. No damage done. No harm. He was loyal, still.

“You know, I think if we find just one more job we can afford an actual new tent…” Kaz tapped a long finger against his lips and smiled. “Might even have enough for two! We wouldn’t have to share anymore.”

Snake dipped his head in a small nod. “I don’t mind sharing,” he said. And it was true - Kaz was easy to get along with, didn’t snore or have night terrors, and he was clean. Snake didn’t think he could offer the same peace as a comrade.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a bit of privacy though, right?”

He nodded again.

“Say, Kaz,” he ventured, stealing himself to ask; not the question, but a question nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if you weren’t, you know, here?”

Kaz gaped at him. The aviators were perched on the top of his head leaving his bright eyes open to scrutiny. Snake watched as they widened, shocked, then narrowed in confusion. Kaz was far more expressive than Snake was, his heart was written in his eyes. No wonder he hid them so often.

“What would I…?” He cleared his throat and Snake followed the movement with his eye. “Well, I’m not sure, really. Maybe get into the restaurant business? I’ve always enjoyed cooking even if I don’t get much opportunity nowadays.”

Snake grunted and flicked ash from his cigar. He stepped back into the tent fully, hand grazing a patched spot and thinking about how a new one would smell. Not good, probably, too pungent. New things always had too much scent to them.

“But then if you own a restaurant you don’t exactly get to just cook in it. There’s the expenses to deal with, recruiting staff, settling menu issues and- pretty much what I do for you but with burgers.” Kaz grinned, wide and boyish, and Snake was struck not for the first time by how young Kaz was. “So unless you want to bug out of this,” he gestured to the tent and the few that were pitched nearby, “you’re stuck with me.”

Snake felt himself smile. The question twisted in his gut like a snake. “I couldn’t do this without you, Kaz.”

The younger man blushed, let out a strained laugh. “Nawh, Snake, you can’t just say things like that! What’s a guy supposed to think?”

He stubbed the cigar out in an empty mess tin and crossed the tent. Kaz was still as he got closer, not tense but wary as he always was when Snake moved too close without reason. He did have a reason though. Kaz was grounding; he smelled like fresh air and blossom, his voice was soothing, he had Snake’s trust. Snake wanted to curl up and forget the question eating away at him, wanted to listen to Kaz talk about expenses and budgeting.

He sat on the cot Kaz usually slept in and crossed his legs. It wasn’t quite curling up in a ball and blocking out the world but it was close enough. “Tell me about your restaurant. I wanna know.”

Emotions rippled across Kaz’s face - fear, confusion, uncertainty and finally soft excitement. He perched on the fold-up chair he used in the day and leaned forward. The aviators still sat atop his head. Snake had full access to his eyes. He drank the sight in like a man finding water in the desert.

“Well I remember this place back in Japan that always had American soldiers in-”

Kaz talked about flooring, lighting, the smell of cooking food, dishes that Snake had never heard of and ones he missed. The restaurant was fleshed out as the sun sank below the horizon. Kaz talked, unmindful or not noticing Snake’s silence, for over an hour. Snake listened and let the words cover the uneasy question like a layer of salt preserving fish from decay.

When the light had faded and dark settled fully over their small patch of the world, Kaz looked up in surprise. Snake could still see the shining light of his eyes. He could see the shimmer on Kaz’s lips when he licked them.

“Shit, how long have I been going on? You should have said something, Snake!”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t have many strong opinions, do you?”

He chuckled, laughing was easy with Kaz, and shrugged in the dark. “I do, but I really don’t mind listening to you talk. It’s- you’ve got a relaxing voice.”

Kaz let out a small, embarrassed laugh. When he spoke his voice was breathy and whistful. “There you go again, making me blush.”

“Seems I’m pretty good at it.”

They lapsed into silence. The battery powered lantern stayed off as the stars began to twinkle overhead, unseen through the tent canvas.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

Kaz shuffled the chair closer. Their knees touched. “Yeah; what would you do?”

Snake picked at a loose thread on his shirt. “I’m not sure. Go somewhere quiet, get a few dogs, learn how to be peaceful.”

He felt Kaz shift and wished they’d been sat side by side on the beach, wished he could see Kaz’s face in the moonlight to see what he was thinking.

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah.”

Outside, the stars and planets moved through the sky. Somewhere, flowers rotted on an intended grave. But in here, unseen by the world, John could forget about all that for a while. He focussed on the warmth of Kaz’s knee against his own, listened to the soft sound of his friend’s breath, wondered if there was an answer to his question that wouldn’t leave him broken and somehow defiled.

Maybe he’d find the courage to answer it himself one day.

[archenemyintellegence]

(27/3/2023) Sushiro

Went to Sushiro with my classmates to eat some Japanese food (that we can afford 🥹) after the Washoku course.

The sushi in Sushiro is pretty acceptable. It's affordable and it's not bad. Most of the time, cheap sushi in Hong Kong taste like shit, but not the ones in Sushiro. Overall, the items are worth the price (most of the time), and they're what they're supposed to be, but you never expect anything that can blow your mind there. (Except this time, and this is why I am not writing an essay about Sushiro. I will tell you about that later 😳)

There are multiple items that I really enjoy in Sushiro. First are the Grilled Cheese Salmon Sushi, and the Basil with Grilled Cheese Salmon Sushi (which are the multiple dishes in the photo lmao). Everything goes well with grilled cheese, which explains why the Grilled Cheese Salmon Sushi is nice. But for the one with basil, it's better as the fatness of salmon is enhanced by the basil mayonnaise, while the basil balanced the greasiness a little bit. It's the item with the greatest value imo, as it only costs HKD$12 per 2 pieces. You can literally eat this until you full and it still cost under $100. However, I ranked it the same as the grilled cheese one, as it can feel really greasy if all you eat is the basil one. Ordering with the cheese one can make it feel more pleasant.

The next one is a side dish, but it's literally the best regular item in Sushiro. I think you can guess what that is, because we were ordering it in bulk in the photo lmao. It's the fucking Fries. It's one of the cheapest item in Sushiro, costing only $12, and it is the best Fries I've ever tried. Idek why the Fries in a fucking sushi shop is so fucking good. They're freshly fried every time we ordered them. It's hot, crunchy and the inside is soft. Also, the fried are quite thick so it's more flavorful. Moreover, there are a range of sauce you can dip the fries with. Soy sauce goes surprisingly well with Fries and the best one is the "甘だれ", which literally means sweet sauce. It's thick, sweet and with the unique saltiness of soy sauce. It's goes extremely well when drizzled on the freshly fried Fries.

For the items I've mentioned above, the star is never the seafood. As this is budget sushi, the quality of the seafood is pretty meh. They're just pleasant item that gives you the experience of eating sushi and piling up towers of sushi plates with friends, without breaking your bank. (Trust me, the more expensive item on the menu taste just as meh as the cheap items.) However, today, I have tasted an AMAZING SUSHI THAT BLOWS MY MIND IN SUSHIRO 😳 It's so good that it got me rethinking why tf I was eating silly grilled cheese salmon sushi at the first place, when this item is available.

It's the Grilled Kinmedai (金目鯛) Sushi. It's a special item for March. I wanted to order something outside of salmon and tuna after studying the Washoku course. I was thinking about ordering this one but I was intimidated by the price at first, as it costed $22 per 1 piece, which is almost double the price of the grilled cheese salmon sushi. However, I couldn't resist the curiosity and ordered one AND THEN I UNDERSTAND WHY IT'S SO EXPENSIVE. IT'S TIERS ABOVE THE SILLY GRILLED CHEESE SUSHI. THE EXPERIENCE OF EATING 1 PIECE OF KINMEDAI SUSHI WORTHS MORE THAN EATING 2 PIECES OF GRILLED CHEESY STUFF.

I was so shocked when putting this in my mouth, because it blew my fucking mind. I never expected I will enjoy actual seafood or taste of Japan in Sushiro, but this time it's real seafood time. The fat of the piece of fish just melt in my mouth right when I put it in, with the aroma of grilled flavour and the light flavour of the fish. When I actually bite the fish, the texture was so fucking good. It's firm, kinda crunchy, a little bit flaky, and it feels really meaty. Also, the flavour is extremely amazing. It feels like the flavour of a whole steamed fish I usually eat in Chinese restaurant compressed into a piece of meat. It also comes with the saltiness of a sea fish, and the light sweetness of fresh seafood. Moreover, the taste of the fish is amazing. It's like the umami of the whole seafood cup noodle compressed into one piece of fish, without the msg and the extremely unpleasant saltiness of junk food. It also has a faint taste that resembles soy sauce, but it's not salty. It's so satisfying that makes my mouth water just by thinking of it, and I believe it's the fucking umami the lecturer is talking about. The sushi rice gives the fish some sourness to activate more sweetness and umami of the fish, and also balanced out the flavour to make the whole experience extremely enjoyable.

After swallowing the sushi, it even leaves an amazing aftertaste. It's pure umami with a little bit of sweetness, and it feels more amazing than the initial taste. Maybe it's because there's no more texture of meat or rice to distract the marvellous taste of the fish. It's so fucking tasty that I can't help but order one more piece. The next piece didn't come with the element of surprise like the first one, but it came with a better taste than the first one. It's more sweet, and the fish flavour is a little bit more heavier. The fish is more juicy and the juices really tasted like fish soup.

As I was full, I couldn't enjoy another piece of the Grilled Kimedai Sushi. So, I tried to convince my friends to experience the amazing thing that I've enjoyed. However, they refused to order one because they were full too. I felt like a fish that jumped out of the water and had a glimpse of the sky. I couldn't stop talking about how tasty the Kinmedai is, but they were unable to understand the amazing experience of it. I believe they were kinda annoyed about me being so hyped about some Sushiro sushi, and they're probably disappointed that I am still writing essay about the Kinmedai. However, it's really THAT GOOD.

It's so good that it got me rethinking of my decision of refusing to go out of the comfort zone at first and wasting money on ordering cheap cheesy junk food. I'd rather order only eat Grilled Kinmedai sushi (with some Fries because the Fries there is GOD tier) instead of filling my stomach with meaningless food. It even got me rethinking my choice of not taking eating seriously, and keep eating junk food just to stop my body from feeling hungry. Now, I understand that food can also be a beautiful experience, beside of fulfilling the purpose of filling my tummy. I will probably cut some cost from eating random cheap junk food, and save to eat some actually enjoyable food.

Also, if kinmedai in Sushiro is THAT GOOD ALREADY, IMAGINE KINMEDAI IN REGULAR JAPANESE RESTAURANT 😭 I need to go to one to enjoy some fresh, nice quality kinmedai to blow my fucking mind and spoil my tastebuds 😭😭 Maybe I will go to Japan one day just to eat some fresh kinmedai 😭 Thank you kinmedai for changing my world. Your sacrifice is not wasted, as your delicious body has enlightened my world. 🙏🏻💯✨ I am fortunate to meet you, and consume you, kinmedai 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 I love you so fucking much and I really wish that I can meet you, and experience the beautiful experience with you again 💙❤️🐟🍣🥹🙏🏻✨

[jasminebutintaiwansojiemin]

August 2nd, 2024 星期五 - Science Museum, Ballin’ at Din Tai Fung, High-End Shopping, Hakka Village + Museum

Today we started around 9:30am, so I woke up around 8:30am to hit up 7/11 for some snack it’s. I bought Korean strawberry milk, strawberry pocky, and some honey cake.

Our first stop for class was a science museum. It was one of the widest museums I’ve ever been in. During our time to explore, I hit pretty much every floor and section. My favorite section was the health section, as it was Alice in Wonderland themed. It was definitely one of the cutest museum displays I’ve ever seen. I took a lot of pictures there for that reason. The entire museum contained a lot of interactive games, some free and some requiring tickets that you could purchase separately. At one point I was gonna do a game similar to dance dance revolution, but when I found out it cost extra, I was like nope. After exploring for a bit, I went to the cafe on the second floor. It was a pretty cafe but the prices were ASTRONOMICAL so it was a no for me. Then I headed down to the gift shop to kill some time. I ended up buying a sushi cat print for my boyfriend, a whale shark pouch, and sumikko gurashi stickers.

After the museum we headed to Din Tai Fung for lunch. As usual, it was in a high-end shopping mall. We had to wait a bit before getting sat, so I went to the bathroom and bought a pumpkin tart from a nearby dessert stand. I knew the other students would be ordering chocolate xiaolongbao as dessert but I hate chocolate so I got the tart instead.

After a bit we got sat for lunch. We pre-order the most expensive set so we made sure to try to eat everything. Some of the dishes we got were regular xiaolongbao, stir fried spinach, shrimp shumai, fish dumplings, and cucumber salad. The food was really good as always. After lunch, we had some free time to walk around. I walked through a few stores and ended up buying a shirt from Zara (which is rare because I usually hate Zara’s clothing) and a special pandora charm that is only available to buy in Taiwan. Then I walked around for a bit more and then met back on the first floor to get on the bus.

Our next stop was a Hakka village in Meinong. We visited a handicraft shop where I bought a talisman type hanging decoration. Then we went to a nearby Hakka museum, where we got learn about Hakka culture and immigration to Taiwan. After the museum we drove back to Kaohsiung, where I did NOT go to a baseball game, and planned to lock in on homework/other tasks for the rest of the night.

UPDATE: I ended up going to a nearby Latin American restaurant for dinner. I got a lamb soup that was sooooooo good and reminded me of home :( I also had some empanadas that were the most Chinese tasting empanadas I’ve ever had—and that’s saying a lot because I’ve eaten many empanadas in my life.

Academic Reflection

Today we visited a Hakka village and a Hakka museum. Before today, I had heard the term Hakka before in reference to ethnic groups in Southeast Asia (that an Hmong), but I didn’t know they were also present in Taiwan. Our tour guide explained that the Hakka ethnic groups were the last large group of Chinese Mainlanders to make the voyage to Taiwan. They hailed from the northeastern part of China, moving to the mountainous inner lands of Taiwan. Our reading for today however, claims that the Hakka originated in Southern China. I distinctly remember thinking that it was interesting that the Hakka people came from northern China all the way down to Taiwan, especially since the Minnan people largely came from the Southeastern Chinese provinces—especially Fujian.

I didn’t know which to believe, so I googled it LOL. Wikipedia claims that the Hakka are a southern Han Chinese subgroup. However, the article does say that the Hakka groups in Southern China arrived later than many other Cantonese speaking Han ethnic groups, and that their genetics are generally somewhat more closely related to northern Han peoples.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: Life on hard Mode

I took Goth Millennial to the good (Cheap, employee owned) grocery store. We generally shop together and we both needed a lot of things. I need to restock a whole lot of stuff thrown out or given away in the Great Refrigerator disaster. So I'm zooping along in the riding cart because my hip joints hate me and my broken toe is healing extra slow and we kept having this thing where I was like, "Oh! We need to grab X." GM: but we HAVE X. Me: It was old and nearly empty, so I threw it out when we emptied the freezer. Them: sad face

The new refrigerator is a lot smaller and less disability friendly, It does, however, WORK and it's mechanisms are simpler so let's hope it doesn't break once every 1-2 years like the old one. A kind friend got me a new britta as we gave away our sink attachment, filter tank, and emergency jug when we moved here. The water is so cold and delicious, far better than the old fridge water. Finding anything in it is a drama, though, especially with the freezer. I was trying to get cheese for meds snack and spent ten minutes searching. I thought we'd saved emergency frozen broccoli for yesterday's dinner from the Great Fridge Disaster, but if we did, it was buried in my hurried restock, probably amongst the frozen fruit for smoothies. Sigh.

Related note: I searched every stir fry veggie pouch in the freezer section of the good grocery store and all of the mixed pouches had onions and/or carrots and/or cauliflower. Sigh. I do not like cauliflower except in a tiny number of things, stir fry emphatically not amoung them. I like carrots fresh in salads and in certain soups and restaurant dishes, but not homemade emergency from frozen sir fry. I can no longer digest onions properly and I don't like them enough to go through the unpleasantness unless it's something special like the good cheese and chives bakery bread or restaurant stir fry, and even then, less is more. (I cook with freeze dried or dried and powdered garlic which I'm fine with and frozen garlic i can digest, but normal onions are right out, even frozen. I can handle a small amount of powdered or freeze dried). I don't make the rules. My body does. So I guess I can no longer buy a frozen stir fry packet for emergencies. Sigh.

Somehow my Bay leaf is missing and I forgot to restock, dammit. Also, I've not had safe for me salsa since the fridge killed the last mostly used container, and I still haven't been to that store for that, safe cup of soups, cheese, and dried mango, which are staples. Fuck! There are too many things I can't enjoy without salsa, so it's either no emergency too sick to make food soups, or no dried fruit for a month. (I'm an old and mango is both vitamin rich and something I am always willing to eat and at my age… a little fruit is a good idea every day.

I have a bunch of good things for now. bagels and cream cheese, fresh fruit, mushrooms, etc.. My fridge is restocked. I do have some cheese that survived the disaster, but half of it is messed up from it's sojourn in Squirrel's little chest freezer (I feel like if I say chest freezer, people imagine something you can hide an adult body in, whereas this was a freezer I bought when we lived in the previous apartment because storing my stuff and Squirrel meat in the tiny apartment freezer won't work. I now rather wish it WERE hide the body size, but where the fuck would we put it in this over crowded postage stamp apartment?), which means it crumbles and doesn't melt properly. (We were very lucky. Usually squirrel's meat freezer is PACKED, but it had a third empty when disaster struck, which saved the ice cream and the more expensive stuff I had like assorted vegetarian burger meats, frozen fruit, and cheese. It also meant ice.) I thought I had swiss, but maybe we used it up fast early in the disaster before it could go over.

It keeps going like this. I burned the OTC mostly on medicine, but also some fresh fruit and veg. I'm still pissed they cut OTC nearly in half this year. I'm also angry about the paternalistic "Healthy Food" requirement, which is nonsensical because bagels aren't classed as "healthy food," but cream cheese, Count Chocula cereal, and frozen pizza is, which seems kind of bullshit to me. Goth Millennial thinks it has to do with FDA subsidies and not nutrition at all, which sounds likely to me. I am ALSO pissed that the OTC is designed as a subsidy for large chain grocery store and pharmacies and also I have to pay tax on it. Fucking capitalism. It didn't used to be. It used to be at cost, so more valuable. Instead of doing the food portion like EBT, so I could buy at farmer's markets and also get seeds and starts, I have to go to the second most expensive grocery store in town and have to buy from their limited "healthy foods" list which does not involve starts and seeds. side eye

So I'm likely fucked for paying bills because of the refrigerator, and will need to wait 'til next month to get the rest of the food, and all the fresh fruit and the best vegetables are coming into season, tempting me to burn toilet paper on money on what I KNOW, are luxuries. I live a block away from a market garden that gets fresh fruit and sundries shipped fresh each morning from other local family farms and they have fruit so fresh and good nothing that nothing I've ever tasted can touch the quality. I am sleeping on sheets so torn I struggle not to put my legs through the holes and the visit to a friend in another town I'd hoped to do this month is postponed, possible cancelled.

I know, I know, this is one lost Summer for me while people are literally dying of starvation in Gaza. I'm just exhausted from the heat and the physio and the constant barrage of disasters hitting my friends one after the other. Some friends caught COVID. Goth Millennial is still fighting the unjust firing and the same employer is threatening another of my Millennials over the same bullshit. Us: "You need to tell the Union. " And the housing department is foot dragging and there this whole thing going on with a bunch of other bureaucracy stuff, and, and, and….

I still have not heard back on them raising the housing rate in August, so I can't even plan properly. Did they not get quorum? Did the protest work? Who knows? It's weird they've sent no email, right?

[blkkizzat]

Hey! Indian reader here again, I'm glad you're having a great time here!!

I remember going to Agra on a trip a couple years back. Taj Mehl was amazing to see. And the history behind it is quite interesting. It was supposed to be a gift from the King of Agra to his queen though I don't remember much of the history. One part I do remember (though it's very gruesome yet romantic in a weird way) is that the king ordered that the hands of all the artisans and anyone who worked on the site would be cut off so that they wouldn't be able to create something like the palace again 😭

One tip I have is that you make sure you're not overpaying for the stuff you buy here, considering people WILL overcharge you when they realize you're a tourist. And to wear clothing which covers you up in public because short clothes are usually looked down upon here and for your own safety too depending on where you are 💔

Other than that I also recommend buying spices to take back with you if you're into spicy food!! Indian spices are extremely flavorful and vast in variety but quite expensive in other countries

Hey!! I just got back! It was an amazing trip! Your country is so beautiful. The air quality in some cities was tearing my allergies up but other than that and trying to cross the street when there isnt a traffic light in sight, I had such a great time! I never thought I could be a vegetarian but so much good non meat curries and other options there. I liked Indian food before going but loved all the new dishes I tried too! Although I don't think I will ever find a Dal Makhani or Chana Masala as good as I did at The 1944 Hocco Kitchen in Ahmedabad here in the states. I didn't even like the Dal I had on the trip up until that point it was so rich, smooth and buttery (they cooked theirs for 36hrs). Also getting to try traditional Gujarati cuisine was awesome!

The Dhokla was so good with the chutneys they'd give us as snacks. Plus I thought Japan had the best service, India takes it to a new level! I never been to restaurants where waiters are literally sprinting to your table to make sure you dont serve yourself. I only wanted a bit more curry once but I felt so bad this waiter almost tripped rushing over to me I let him put on two more scoops! Also feels like I'm back home and my grandma is making my plates cause if they see a dish nearly done and that you finished yours they will just scoop the rest into your plate. Even the fast food places (omg the paneer burger and aloo tiki burger at mcdonalds and butter chicken chalupa at taco bell were to DIE for) were far superior to what we have here and they have much more sustainable practices. I swear I gained 5lbs from all the food lmfao!! I'm used to eating either one meal or two small ones a day and my program was feeding us 3 full meals so I had to skip some at times LOL it was too much food!!

The traffic is WILD in India but its so cool to see. I don't think I would ever get used to crossing the street without feeling like I was gonna die though lmfaooo. Also omg being able to Uber a Tuk Tuk was awesome! Although there was a few times me and my friends thought we would see the pearly gates lmfaoooo. I heard that about the Taj artisans too! The tour guide we had was so knowledgable (he was a former pharmacist who went back to school to learn medival indian history as he wanted to be a tour guide instead). He told us it was because after his favored wife died (I think he said it was because she was the only one to give him children successfully) he lost his mind a bit and was locked away by one of his sons after building the Taj (Very sad too as all his sons fought and all but one survived to take over the throne). Oh yes, haha our tour consultant who travelled with us the entire time would haggle for us if we wanted something. He would actually give us a range then tell us to walk down the block then he would start haggling lol. Loved him so much, he really looked out for us!

But omg yeah I noticed that people dress pretty modestly which is wild to me considering how hot it is there but they are used to it but I was dying haha. It was 100 degrees and people were in jackets and jean pants lol. Thankfully I brought long cotton and linen dresses and skirts and was able to buy some flowly loose linen pants and brought lots of electrolyte packets. But even in the hotel (we stayed at the 5 star Hyatt Regency in Ahemedabad) that was pretty internationally catered (omg the best pasta outside of italy I swear I was so surprised haha) there were Indian men intensely staring at me and my friend wearing tight leggings to breakfast even though they came down to our ankles and we had a long sleeve shirt on too. I got on the elevator to run back up to my room for something I forgot and these guys on the elevator were so creepy. They didnt say anything but I could feel them glaring down my back. I'm glad we knew better than to wear them outside but I thought it be okay just in the hotel. That didn't sour my experience though I did meet a lot of very nice and respectful Indian men as well. Two of them (who were pretty cute tbh) helped me with my luggage on the elevator as I was leaving since I had to buy an entire new luggage for all the stuff I bought lol. Yes!! While in Delhi we went to the spice market. We took a cycle rickshaw there. We went to a tourist spice shop there though cause they seal it up well for travel and actually have premixed spice packets you can buy which makes it easier (although im sure much more expensive). I bought a ton of spices and teas haha spent like 20k rupees there lmfaooo. Mostly went so ham there cause my mom used to live in India (her 3rd husband was Indian) and she wanted me to bring her back alot of teas and spices. I got her like 4 different kinds of chai. I'm kinda sad we left right before Holi!!!! I always wanted to experience Holi!!! But since its today (or yesterday lol) and today is the first day of classes back our school had to make sure we were back for classes.

Here’s some more pics!

[rabbitcruiser]

National Crab Meat Day

National Crab Meat Day is celebrated on March 9 every year. This holiday celebrates the tasty goodness of crab meat and the delicious recipes that include this ingredient.

There is a large market for crab in America and an even larger market for imitation crab meat, which is used as a replacement for actual crab in many recipes. Imitation crab is preferred by a lot of people, but when it comes down to it, people love the soft, sweet flavor of crab meat, and nothing can replace the original.

Crabs are so popular because not only are they super delicious, but they are great for health too. And guess what? There are tons of ways in which a crab can be cooked. This means even if you don’t like one recipe, you can easily opt for another one that is more of your flavor. So grab your wallets, call a couple of friends, and get ready to celebrate National Crab Day with a crab-eating fest. We promise it will definitely be worth it. 

History of National Crab Meat Day

National Crab Meat Day pays homage to the deliciousness of crab meat and its popularity across the country. People across the world love seafood— especially crabs. People, on the other hand, appear to be more concerned with the flavor of crabs and how delicious they are rather than the health benefits they give. Crabs, according to the study, are abundant in protein and contain high quantities of omega-3 fatty acids, vitamins B12, and selenium. Omega-3 and protein supplements are in high demand around the world because they play such an important part in keeping people healthy and fit. But the truth is that none of these supplements can compare to the real nutrition you’ll get from eating a crab.

Crabs are crustaceans found in all the oceans of the world. They are covered with a hard shell, known as an exoskeleton, and usually have two claws known as pincers. One of these pincers is usually larger than the other. The claws also have meat and are one of the most flavorful and meatiest parts of the crab. 

Crabs were first consumed in ancient Rome by persons who lived near the sea or frequently went by sea. These individuals introduced the dishes to Britain and the trend of consuming lobster, crab, shellfish, etc. began to spread. In the mid-fifteenth century, crabs were boiled and eaten cold with vinegar. But it wasn’t until�� Victorian times that different dressings for crabs were created by cooks. Archeologists have also discovered that blue crabs were a vital source of food for Native Americans, Euro-American colonists, and African Americans. Crab remnants dating back to the 17th century were unearthed in Maryland, revealing this.

Some species of soft-shell crabs are eaten whole, including the shell, while with others only the legs and claws are edible. The roe or crab eggs are also a delicacy across the world, particularly in Southeast Asia. In America, Chesapeake Bay is the area where crab roe is primarily consumed. 

Crab meat is known for its delicate, sweet flavor. So while there are recipes, particularly in Asia, where the meat is used in recipes that use a lot of spice, most American recipes for crab rely on the flavor of the meat itself. Alaskan crab, for instance, is cooked by boiling it with garlic and butter and not much else. 

Crab is also a popular ingredient in American sushi, but because of the expense, most restaurants prefer to use imitation crab rather than actual crab since the flavor isn’t central to the experience in these recipes. When it comes to fishing and fisheries, crabs account for 20% of all the crustaceans caught, farmed, or consumed. They are eaten all over the world in many different preparations, recipes, and methods.

Crabs are so popular amongst health experts because they can help reduce blood clotting, prevent anemia by producing red blood cells, and most importantly, the delicacy can decrease the risk of dementia and Alzheimer’s disease. Of course, the benefits of crab were not so well-known till much later. In fact, crabs took a while to reach the U.S. food market.

National Crab Meat Day timeline

1891

The Creation

Thomas J. Murrey's book ”Cookery with a Chafing Dish” mentions a crab cake recipe.

1910

Singing Along

A 1910 poem, named “Summertown,” appreciates crab cakes.

1930s

Crab Fisheries Develop in Alaska

Japanese fishermen develop crab fisheries in Alaska and start bringing in small catches.

1939

Cooking It Up

Crosby Gaige makes the term popular in the New York World’s Fair Cookbook.

1950s

Crab Fisheries Become More Established

Having started in Alaska, the fisheries are now monitored and the catches are recorded in a more formal way.

1980s

A Decline in Crab Fisheries

Over time, the catches slow down, crab populations decline, and fisheries begin to shut down.

2000s

Crab Populations Recover

Although the populations can never go back to the same levels, crab populations in Alaska recover enough to allow for small fisheries.

National Crab Meat Day FAQs

Which state has the most crabs?

Maryland is the state with the most crabs in the country.

Why is crab fishing so dangerous?

Alaskan crab fishing is particularly dangerous because of the temperatures and the risk of hypothermia to the fishermen. 

Can I eat crab every day?

Eating crabs on a daily basis can improve the zinc in your body. 

National Crab Meat Day Activities

Cook some crab cakes: Nothing embodies America’s love for crab meat as much as crab cakes, so get your ingredients together and make some.

Eat crab at a local seafood restaurant: Head over to a seafood place known for their fresh catch and get yourself some delicious Alaskan crab served with the simplest ingredients.

Go crab fishing: Catching crabs in a pot is a time-honored way of fishing for them, so head over to Florida or Alaska and catch yourself some crabs.

5 Incredible Facts About Crabs

There are different grades of crab meat: In the U.S., the grades of crab meat depend on the size of the crab, and the location where the crab comes from.

Imitation crab was invented by the Japanese: Almost 800 years ago, the Japanese invented the technique of mincing fish, which is used to make imitation crab meat today.

Crab exports are a big deal: The total value of crab exports from America comes to over 250 million U.S. dollars.

Some fisheries declaw crabs: This controversial practice involves declawing crabs and putting them back in the water, and is justified because some species of crab can regrow their claws.

Crab meat is very healthy: Crab meat is low in fat and high in folate, niacin, and zinc, which are all necessary nutrients for the human body.

Why We Love National Crab Meat Day

We love crab meat: We love to eat crab meat because it is sweet and delicious. This day is a great excuse to eat all the crab we can.

It talks about the importance of consuming crabs: The day focuses on why crabs are so important to consume and the myriad health advantages they provide. Crabs are high in protein and have a high nutritional value.

Introduces different crab specialties: On this day, several crab specialties are brought to the forefront so that crab lovers have a variety of options.

Source

[wonderandwanderinginmexicocity]

Spinning Cones of Meat: A Cultural Convergence

“I've seen zero evidence of any nation on Earth other than Mexico even remotely having the slightest clue what Mexican food is about or even come close to reproducing it. It is perhaps the most misunderstood country and cuisine on Earth.”

-Anthony Bourdain

If there is one thing people in Mexico are proud of, it’s their food. Many people here see it as their national gift to the world. Whether it is a Michelin star restaurant or eating cheap tacos on the street, local cuisine is such a crucial part of Mexican culture and history. 

Perhaps the most iconic culinary symbol is the trompo, the spinning cone of meat that is a staple at street side taquerías. Trompo is the term for a children’s spinning top, which makes sense given the shape of the spinning roasted carne. A vertical spit, with large chunks of meat stacked on top of it, is slowly turned in front of a flame so that it cooks for hours. If that doesn’t sound wildly appetizing to you, people here live for tacos al pastor (shepherd's tacos), perhaps the official dish of Mexico City. Usually at the top there is a chunk of pineapple that is sliced off and placed on the tacos. The trompo is so ubiquitous here that they are a popular costume for Halloween. Where did the trompo come from and how did it become such a symbol for street food and Mexico City?

With the increased mobility afforded by technology and the high number of interstate and ethnic conflicts, the twentieth century was one of the great periods of human movement in the history of the world. Mexico was not left out of these global changes. In fact, Mexico is a unique country where movement is concerned: It is one of the few countries that experiences both high levels of emigration (Mexicans moving to the United States and other places) and immigration (people moving to Mexico, primarily from Central America, looking for a better life). Migrants from the Middle East began coming to Latin America in the nineteenth century, but this accelerated in the twentieth century when the Ottoman Empire began to collapse after World War I. Lebanese immigrants reshaped many parts of Latin America, giving us the gifts of Shakira in Colombia and bringing delicious street food such as kipe to the Dominican Republic. By some estimates there are 800,000 Lebanese people and their descendants living in Mexico today. 

In the nineteen thirties, these newly arrived Lebanese immigrants began opening restaurants in places like Mexico City and Puebla, offering Arab tacos (tacos arabes). They carefully cooked their meat in a style similar to that of a shawarma or kebab. They used a bread more similar to a pita than a tortilla. The tacos were originally filled with lamb (hence the name shepherd’s taco), a meat popular in the Middle East, but not a common part of culinary practice in Mexico. "People didn't like it so they tried it with beef and it didn't work out,” said Alejandro Escalante, the author of TACOPEDIA, an encyclopedia on tacos. “Finally pork got on this vertical grill and it turned out to be great." Pork is taboo for Muslims and thus is expensive and hard to find in places like Lebanon. But in Mexico it is everywhere. 

After finally finding the right meat for trompos, eventually the Arab style bread was replaced with traditional corn tortillas. What was once foreign and unpopular, had become so intrinsic to street food culture it was hard to remember Mexico without it.

Food can be thought of as our cultural DNA. It tells us who we are, where we are, and where we come from. Tacos al pastor, with meat cooked in the style of the Levant wrapped in a tortilla, the staple food of Mesoamerica, is a perfect metaphor for modern Mexico. It makes me hungry just thinking about it. 

[xieyouji-xiegushi]

Just What I Needed (Chapter 1)

Cross-posting my fics while AO3 is down! This is a multi-chapter fic; please check out the contents page for additional tags, overall CWs and other chapters before reading!

Title: Just What I Needed (Chapter 1) Fandom: Supernatural Rating: E Ship: Destiel Chapter 1 CWs: none Summary: All Sam and Dean have to their names right now is $200, a '67 Chevy Impala, and a lead.

Dean walked into the restaurant, fiddling with his shirt, the top two buttons of which were undone, the collar sitting at a jaunty angle. He scanned the room, searching for a vaguely familiar face. His eyes settled on an older man, probably in his early 50s, sitting alone at a table for two. Dean took a deep breath and walked over to join him.

“Hi, are you Max?” Dean asked.

“I am! You must be Charlie.”

“That’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Max looked him up and down, taking Dean’s appearance, his eyes resting for a moment on the patch of exposed collarbone.

“Charlie, I’m quite sure the pleasure is all mine.”

Dean smiled. A cheesy line, but nothing he hadn’t heard before. He sat down at the table opposite Max, who had already ordered them a glass of wine each.

“I have to say, Charlie, I’m thrilled that you agreed to come out with me this evening. A man of my age… you younger types don’t usually look twice.”

“Well, Max, I tend to find that men of your age, as you put it, appreciate the finer things in life. So much more than guys my age do, anyway.”

“Well, if you have the means, why not? That’s what I say. Now, if you don’t like the wine, we can try a different one. Please, order anything you want.”

Dean happily obliged. The restaurant was quite expensive, and fancy, which probably meant the portions would be small. Dean scoured the menu for the most promising option, eventually settling on two simple pasta dishes, ordering both under the guise of not being able to decide. Max didn’t mind – the wine he had ordered already cost more than the entire meal.

Dean picked at his food and nursed his wine. He supposed he should make conversation, as an excuse for his slow eating.

“So, tell me about yourself. Who is Max? What brings a man of taste such as yourself to Nowheresville, USA?”

“Well, you see, my father wanted me to become an accountant, like him. But it wasn’t the life for me. I went to school for it, but after completing my degree, I found my real passion. So, I became a financial manager. Take that, Dad!” Max laughed at his own joke. At least, Dean thought it was a supposed to be a joke.

“Sorry, um, I’m not sure I understand the difference.”

“Oh, there’s a huge difference! You see, an accountant manages people’s accounts, whereas a financial manager…”

Max continued to explain the differences in excruciating detail, and Dean drifted off. He ate and drank just enough to be polite, but still leave leftovers. He made filler noises and asked simple questions to feign interest, whilst keeping half an eye on his watch. As the time ticked on, he began to grow restless. At precisely 8.30, his phone rang.

“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I take this?”

“No, go ahead.” Max smiled at him.

Dean nodded his head, before standing up and walking a few feet away from the table.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Hi Dean. This is your get out of jail free call. Ready to wrap up?”

“Sure, I’ll come pick you up. Be there in 20 minutes.”

“See you soon.”

Dean hung up, and paced for a few seconds, for effect. He marched back to the table with a frown.

“Max, I’m so sorry, it looks like I have to cut this short.” As he was talking, he waved over a waiter. “I’ve got a small emergency I need to go and take care of. Yeah, can I get these to go please?” he asked the waiter, gesturing at his two plates of pasta.

Max looked slightly taken aback, but quickly recovered. “I’m sorry to hear that, Charlie. Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, thank you, it’s okay. I had a lovely time this evening. Thank you so much for dinner. Take care, Max.” The waiter returned with his food, and he grabbed the bag and left before Max had much of a chance to answer.

Dean jumped in the Impala, which he’d left parked about a block away from the restaurant. He fired up the engine and headed over to the local library. He arrived at exactly 8.50, and Sam was waiting on the steps outside. Dean honked the horn, and Sam jumped up and ran over, clambering into the car. They pulled off, and Dean drove them to the nearest free car park, pulling into the first free space he saw.

“What did we get?”

“I don’t know, pasta something. Truffle maybe.”

“Truffle? Fancy restaurant?”

“Yeah, real expensive. Tiny portions, so I got two.”

“How was it?”

“What? The pasta?”

“Your date.”

“It was fine. He was nice enough. An accountant or something. You know, boring, but harmless.”

Sam nodded. “Don’t you feel bad? You basically scammed some lonely old man.”

“Yeah, not for the first time, and it won’t be the last. As for what I feel, what I feel is hungry. Come on, dig in. This stuff won’t be good cold.”

Sam grabbed some camping forks from the glove compartment, and they ate their lukewarm pasta in silence. After finishing his food, Dean reached over Sam and pulled out an envelope. He rifled through it.

“How much is left?” Sam asked.

“About $200.”

“So, can we get a motel tonight? I don’t want to sleep in the car again.”

“Afraid not. We need gas, and new brake pads. These ones are down to their last scrap.”

“You know, if we’re gonna be in this town for a while, I could get a job. You know, a regular job.”

Dean looked at his brother. Sam was serious. And worried.

“No way. You’re in school – focus on that. Who the hell is gonna hire some 15-year-old anyway?”

“I can lie. Dean, we’re broke. Dad’s cash is literally about to run out. And the only other thing he left us was this money pit of a car.”

“Hey, don’t talk about the Chevy that way. Sammy, I know you’re stressed, but don’t be. I’ll figure something out.”

“What, are you gonna start scamming for McDonald’s coupons?”

“I said I’d figure it out. Now shut up and get to sleep, you’ve got school tomorrow.”

Grumbling, Sam crawled into the back of the car. The backseats were down, creating something approaching a bed. Dean watched his brother awkwardly fold himself up and cover himself with the thin blanket, before turning around and trying to get comfy in the driver’s seat. He drifted off, sleeping lightly enough that he would wake if there was trouble.

The alley is dark; only its mouth is lit by the faint orange glow of a nearby streetlight. Dean limps into the black, glancing furtively at his surroundings, trying to make out whatever shapes he can. His right hand is glued to the gun at his hip.

He hears a snarl behind him, before an ungodly force knocks him to the ground. Claws tear at his back and sharp, white teeth dig into his neck. He hears a crack. A gunshot. The creature – a vampire – springs away from him, towards the source of the bullet, screeching at the sky.

“Dean, run!” calls his father. John is standing 20 feet ahead of him in the alleyway, his shotgun locked and loaded. The vamp bounds towards him.

“Get up, Dean!” But Dean is fixed to the floor. He can’t run. He can’t look away. The vamp reaches its target. It tears into John Winchester, rips him limb from limb. He screams.

“Dean! DEAN-“

“- Dean! Dean! Come on, I’m gonna be late for school!”

Dean was abruptly pulled from his dream, shaken awake by his brother. He blinked a few times to clear the images from his vision, before putting the car in gear and racing over to Sam’s school. After dropping him off, Dean swung around and headed back to the library. He was here for a job, after all, and he had work to do.

[nicolesthoughtsonconsumption]

The Role of Consumption in Structuring my Day-to-Day Existence & the Academic Study of Consumption

Consumption plays a significant role in our day-to-day existence because it allows us to meet and cater to our needs and desires. The act of consuming is defined as the act of using, eating and/or digesting resources or products. Moreover, we consume whether it is intentional or not. These can be in the form of consuming goods like food, information, shopping or travel for leisure and entertainment. “Consumers embody a simple modern logic, the right to choose.” (Gabriel, 1995). According to Gabriel, choice is a powerful tool that consumers have access to and that consumerism is able to drive the economy. In modern society, consumers are able to practise their ability to choose what they would like to consume and how much of it they consume. These choices are also often shaped and projected through one’s social and cultural backgrounds, as well as one’s personal autonomy. 

In the following paragraphs, I will discuss my own consumption in terms of food, shopping, information as well as entertainment with the aid of the unit readings and some sources of my own research. 

Firstly, as a basic human necessity, one has to eat food and drink beverages to quench one's hunger thirst. Since eating and drinking is already practised since young, oftentimes we do not think much of it anymore because it has become a natural part of our lives. However, what we may fail to realise is how our choices in consumption structures the way we live. On a daily basis, I get to choose what type of meal to consume for breakfast, lunch and dinner or the additional snacks I would consume throughout the day. However there are certain factors that affect my decisions. For example, as a consumer, I have the option of deciding whether I would like to purchase an affordable meal in a food court or if I would opt for a meal more costly than usual in a restaurant. My finances (at the time being) however, determine if I am able to treat myself to a dish that is slightly more expensive than my usual lunches throughout the week. As a student who still mainly relies on her parents for financial support, I have to check if the supposed meal is within budget and how often I can splurge a little bit more on food. This may not be an issue to someone of a higher socio-economic status and can thus have lesser limitations and have broader food experiences. Through this, we can observe that consumption can be an indicator of one’s social class. 

Next, I would like to talk about shopping. “Throughout most of recent history, shopping has been viewed as a laborious activity, one that must be undertaken as a means of survival. The activity rarely, if ever, possessed qualities that could be considered enjoyable” (Timothy, 2005). That is not the case for me though, shopping for clothes is a leisure activity for me and one that I particularly take in. I enjoy taking my time to browse through the store to select articles of clothing that strikes my attention. As I grow older, I find myself being more particular about the quality and price of clothes so I spend a bit of time roaming around different stores looking for the best deals and good quality fabric. As a teenager though, I used to impulsively buy clothes as I found myself influenced by trends online and I had wanted to dress similarly to my favourite artists. It was also some form of retail therapy for me. Looking back, I do not even wear these clothes anymore because of its quality and it is no longer my style of clothing. Unfortunately, mass produced fast fashion apparels were the most affordable option as opposed to ‘sustainably-produced’ clothes. Many individuals vilify people who buy fast-fashion clothes because it is produced unethically but sustainably produced clothes are not cost-friendly to most people. In a chapter by Littler (2014), it is questioned if ethical consumption is “...mainly used as a high-end status pursuit for the moneyed classes, a panacea for middle-class guilt?”. For instance, ethical consumption is marketed to the more affluent and ‘educated’ society, where they have the means to afford and live the eco-friendly or green lifestyle which then further divides the rich and poor, increasing inequality amongst society. 

Thankfully, I have realised that impulsively buying clothes in bulk is unnecessary and a waste of money. This change of mindset has reduced my spendings on clothes and has also lessened my tendency of over-consumption. I rarely visit retail stores nowadays but I still do find myself surfing the web to browse through clothes. Now, I am more selective of items I purchase and am trying to build a capsule wardrobe which consists of staples and long-wear clothes as opposed to buying ‘trendy’ clothes which I am only going to wear less than 10 times. 

“The problem is not that people own things: the problem is that things own people. It is not consuming but consumerism we criticise; not affluence but affluenza” (Hamilton, 2005, p8). To expand on this phrase, many struggle with conspicuous consumption where wealth and status is displayed through branded or materialised goods. Personally, I have yet to experience this because I currently do not have much interest in luxury items. It is however not unusual for one to see, especially in this age where almost everything is shared online. Through influencers and celebrities, we often see them decked from head-to-toe with branded items perhaps due to sponsorships or so as to present them of a higher socio-economic class from the masses. I can see why this form of consumption may be detrimental to those who fantasise about that certain lifestyle. 

For entertainment, I consume a lot of media to satiate my boredom and curiosity. To be frank, I could spend hours, mindlessly scrolling through social media platforms like TikTok, Twitter and Instagram. I also receive news information from these applications. I suppose that because the content is bite-sized, it is easier for me to digest and consume. Content that shows up on my timeline becomes more and more personalised because of the data collected through my likes. This would then send an instant gratification to my brain because the system shows me videos or pictures that I am interested in. However, I find that my social networking usage decreases my attention span. I find it harder to focus and sustain my attention during longer forms of media like 3-minute videos or long articles. I prefer watching TikTok videos because they are short-form content rather than long Youtube videos as it is difficult to sit through a whole video. From a scholarly journal, it is discussed that individuals are constantly on “an information overload from both the quantity of information available and the speed of which information gets into the hands of individuals through advertising and multimedia” (Carstens et al., 2018). This means that in an information and an attention economy, we are persistently exposed to information and it is unavoidable. Whereas attention of individuals are scarce or deficit because one has so many choices of consumption. The increase of social networking usage could be interlinked to the fact that human beings are social creatures who desire to be a part of a community (Lukinova et al., 2014). Since social media allows one to connect and communicate with people from all over the world, the human desire to interact with one another is fulfilled. Therefore, social media usage and consumption rises. 

Through the readings, one is able to critically analyse the semiotics and reasons of consumption. Consumption is complex and comes in a variety of forms. We not only consume physical, tangible goods but we also consume experiences whether it be in consumption of food or through our shopping experiences. In restaurants, one takes in the ambience of eating in a store, usually in the presence of other people who are dining in. There are unique visual and audio elements when one sits and dines in a restaurant as opposed to eating at home. The same goes for physically travelling to the shopping centre. Shopping malls are designed to attract consumers of all different profiles. Even though it may be unsaid, one can recognise that certain shops or shopping malls are targeted to a particular group of people (especially the rich and more privileged) because their consumption of goods drives the sales for such luxury stores. 

However, consumption should not be polarised to “purely negative” nor should one categorise it as “purely positive” (De Solier, 2013). One should not automatically criticise an individual for being unable to use ethically-produced goods because for many, they are not affordable. From Littler (2011), ethical consumption may be used by the government and corporations to push the narrative of responsibility to individuals on making an environmental change and ‘go green’. Whereas these big organisations do not take the accountability for making real change given the power they have yet are profit-making through the supposed ‘pro-environment’ products they sell to consumers. 

To conclude, the academic study of consumption helps to define how acts of consumption could be influenced through social, cultural, environmental and economic factors. It acts as a guide for me to be more conscious and critical of what I consume. The concepts I have learned allows me to realise and be more aware of the negative implications of consumption on an individual and societal basis. Although we have a choice as the consumer in what we consume, it also makes me question whether this so-called ‘power’ is just manipulated and curated by companies in order to profit off of us. Lastly, it also helped me realise that pursuing our consumption habits may be a means to better one’s life, one’s formation of self-identity, as well as in pursuit of happiness. 

[finelinevogue]

Can we get some more brother!harry?

I really enjoyed your piece where he caught her smoking ❤️

of course you can!! (rip if your name is natalia) hope this is what you wanted;

Natalia.

Beautiful name to juxtapose a horrible excuse of a human being.

Harry was never that great when it came to choosing his girlfriends, but this one was by far the worst. Bekka had been bad, because she had been cheating on Harry with her best friends dad. India was just so toxic, to the point where she’d ask Harry why he wasn’t mad with her over the most trivial things as if she wanted him to be mad. Daya was ok, but she wanted different things to what Harry wanted and so they ended up in a massive argument and ending things quicker than they started. Natalia though, wow. She was something else and that wasn’t a compliment.

You don’t know whether it was just because she targeted you especially, but she was just a downright cruel person. You could easily tell her intentions with your brother were not good. She was a plain ol’ gold digger, evident from the credit card that Harry leant her and she spent so much on it the bank had to call Harry to ask him to authorise that he was aware of the amount of money being spent. She bought a car with his card. A fucking car. Harry was too blinded by her beauty and her experience that he was oblivious to her witchy behaviour towards you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell him either, it was more that he didn’t care enough.

“No Harry. No.” You argued with him, standing in the middle of the kitchen as he was busy washing the rest of the dishes in the sink. It was just the two of you home at the moment, because Gemma and Anne were spending the weekend at an exclusive spa in Cheshire, so you didn’t understand how there were so many dishes.

“Y/N, it’s not an option. You’re not staying at home by yourself.” Harry spoke sternly back to you, letting out his frustration by vigorously scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m literally 17 - 18 in like 3 weeks. I’m more than capable of staying home.” You stomped your foot to the ground like a child.

“And I don’t care. You’re coming to lunch whether you want to or not.” Harry finished the last plate and dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, before throwing it over to you.

“But she’ll be there.”

“She’s my girlfriend, so you’ll nice to her.”

“If she’s nice to me, then yeah.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the sink to start drying the dishes that Harry just cleaned.

“ Y/N, I swear to God.” Harry groaned in frustration, tugging a stressful hand through his hair. “Can you at least pretend to be happy for me for once?”

“Gee Harry, i’m just so happy to be going out to lunch with you and your girlfriend!” You put on the biggest grin as your sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue.

“Stop being a spoilt little shit and finish those dishes. We’re leaving in 20.” Harry spoke harshly, before leaving the room with a heavy strop to his step. It left you to blink back the tears that you couldn’t help that Natalia was ruining your whole relationship with your brother.

You and Harry used to be so tight nit, now it would be a miracle if he spent a day with you per month. Natalia had come along 5 months ago and she had completely turned Harry’s life around for the worst, only Harry was too ignorant to see that. Anne had come home multiple times to find you crying because Harry had cancelled on you, again, or Natalia had said something that had really hurt. Normally you were okay with taking hate, but Natalia made it somehow worse than that. Even if Anne or Gemma tried to talk Harry about the damage all this was causing you it would always be the same response;

“She just wants attention.”

The restaurant was very pretty.

It was one that you and Harry used to go to all the time, when there was no girlfriend around. It sold the best pastries and life-changing eggs on toast. The food was always delicious and the staff were so completely lovely. You were glad to be coming here, making you feel more comfortable than you would if you went to a expensive fancy restaurant instead. This little restaurant, named ‘Lemon Puffs’ after their infamous lemon, cream and pastry puffs, made you feel safe and happy.

“Remember to just be nice.” Harry spoke as you both approached the table that Natalia was already sat at. She was too busy on her phone to realise you were even here.

“If she plays nice then yeah.” You bit back.

“Y/N just stop being petty, y’pissing me off now.” Harry argued. “Whine like a bitch later. I don’t need it today.”

You stopped talking after that, not having anything else to say to him. He’d made it very clear that you were only here because he didn’t trust you at home by yourself, but by the same token wanted you quiet because he didn’t trust you enough to speak nicely. Harry hugged and kissed Natalia like he hadn’t just seen her last night and then sat down opposite to her, leaving you to sit next to Harry because you sure as hell weren’t sitting next to her. Natalia didn’t even make the effort to hug you or shake hands, in fact you barely got a simple hello.

“You alright, baby?” Natalia asked, twirling her hand into Harry’s from across the table. Disgusting.

“Yeah i’m good. This one’s a pain in my arse, as always.” Even with his joking tone, you knew he was being somewhat serious and that really messed with you.

“Typical.” Natalia rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue, not hesitating to use the opportunity to be mean to you. Harry thought she was merely playing along with his words, but you new otherwise.

“You know what you want yet?” Harry asked as he pulled his own attention towards the menu. You didn’t need to look at the menu, as being here so many times has allowed you to discover the perfect order.

“I think i’m just going to get the salad, but without the chicken, cheese or cucumber.” She answered, sipping on the water she must’ve already ordered whilst waiting for you both.

“So just lettuce?” You asked, not meaning for it to be a condescending question and yet she took it that way anyways.

“Is there something wrong with that, Y/N?” She asked, being really harsh in the way she spoke your name - as if the syllables actually caused her pain to speak.

“N-no I was just—”

“Didn’t think so.” She snapped and turned away from you to look back towards Harry, with her shit-eating grin that didn’t fool you. Harry kicked you leg under the table too, not appreciating the way you were speaking to Natalia. He didn’t even think about the way his girlfriend was speaking to you though. As usual.

“I’ll probably get the salad too.” Harry nodded his head and you shook your head as he spoke. Harry would never normally get a salad. Like, that’s so Kardashian of him. Harry, whenever he came here with you, always ordered a cheese and pickle panini, with extra crunchy pickles, a portion of chips and some halloumi fries too. Oh and then a cake for pudding. He wouldn’t have gone for a boring salad. Fucking Natalia was ruining him and you hated to have a front row seat of it.

“Not the usual then?” You tried to joke with him, but he was clearly still pissed off with you for being… you.

“Why, are you?” He asked quizzically.

“Obviously.” You smiled, which made Harry smile for a split second before Natalia pulled him away from you. Your smile disappeared and a frown settled in, knowing it would stay there for a long time.

“Babe, I am here too you know?” Natalia joked, bur you could see the anger and jealousy behind her eyes. If looked could kill you’d be ten feet under, twenty times over by now.

“Sorry, yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and paid closer attention to her.

Lunch went by slowly.

Natalia scoffed when she heard your order; poached eggs on toast with three pieces of crispy bacon on the side, a portion of chips and a mint iced tea. Oh and a cake for pudding, but you’d come to that later. Natalia ate her lettuce as Harry eat his salad as you ate your eggs on toast with bacon and chips. You loved the food, hated the company and couldn’t make up your mind whether you loved or hated being here. Natalia and Harry talked throughout lunch, leaving you out of all their conversations. The only time Harry spoke to you was when he asked whether your food was okay, eyeing it up as if he wanted to make love to it and send his salad to the nearest dumpster.

“Was everything alright for you?” Paul, the owner of the business and dude in charge of the eggs asked you when all your plates were empty as Harry’s growling stomach.

“Lovely, thank you.” Harry responded gratefully.

“Perfect.” You smiled as you handed your dirty plate to Paul.

“It was a bit plain.” Natalia moved her plate away from her in disgust and Paul put on his best customer smile, apologising for that before leaving to go and ring up the bill.

“Okay i’m just going to go for a quick wee before I pay.” Harry announced, getting up from the table to go to the loo.

“Okay babe. Don’t be too long.” She called out and then it was left just you and her.

“Well this was nice.” You tried to be nice, as Harry told you to, and start a meant conversation with your arch enemy. Kill ‘em with kindness - that was Harry’s slogan wasn’t it?

“If you hadn’t have been here then yeah.” She turned her nose up at you.

“Look,” you began, wanting her to understand something, “whatever i’ve done to upset you and make you hate me, i’m sorry. Just, I don’t want you to dislike me and I know that Harry really likes you so I want us to be able to get along.”

“Listen, Y/N,” there it was again - your name spoken with dripping venom, “I don’t want to get along with you. You make me sick. You are such a baby to Harry and you’re needy, which means I don’t get to spend time with my boyfriend—”

“Don’t get to spend time with him?” You had to laugh at that. Apart from today, you’d seen Harry maybe a total of 2 hours this whole week and it was Saturday. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

“Not enough. Harry needs to keep away from you, you only bring him trouble.”

“I’m his fucking sister.” You shouted quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace for the rest of the customers.

“Not an excuse. Look Y/N, I understand that you are quite lonely and don’t have many friends? Maybe you should consider that’s for a very good reason?” She rhetorically asked you and that made you sit back a bit. She was pulling apart your insecurities now and exposing them to find the most painful parts, so she could watch you suffer with only the curse of her words.

“It’s not like that.” You tried to convince yourself more than her, tears in your eyes over something so hurtful to you.

“No? ‘Cause I think that you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.” She stood up dusted herself off as he noticed Harry walk back over to the table, smiling as if she hadn’t just shot his sister in the heart.

Her words stung more than a scorpions tale, and yes unfortunately you knew what that felt like. Natalia was right. You were alone, friendless and just trouble. There was a reason that you were all of this and Natalia had hit the nail right on the head with the reason why. You thought of your friends, his they always disappeared and left you and now you sit in the canteen alone or hang out only with yourself on the weekends. You think to Gemma and Anne going away for the weekend, not inviting you because it was age restrictive but you still couldn’t help but think there was a more pressing reason than that. Then you think of Harry and how he was fed up of you. He couldn’t be more resentful of you if he tried. You wanted to be a good friend, a good daughter and most importantly a good sister, but it was so blindingly obvious that you weren’t. You were never going to be.

You stood up from the table too, quickly wiping away a tear from your face before anyone could notice but you didn’t care to see if anyone was actually watching. Harry kissed Natalia and then walked over to the cashier to pay the bill. You noticed Paul and Harry talking and so you walked out of the restaurant and towards the car, still tears in your eyes. You needed to be strong for yourself though, especially because nobody else was going to be.

You stood with you handle to the door of the car waited for Harry to come and unlock it. You heard high heels before the car was unlocked, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, but I ride front.” Natalia spat at you, removing your hand from the door and chivvying you to the back of the car instead.

“You’re coming with us?” You asked, your heart aching that little bit more. You didn’t want to spend another minute in her presence and yet she would now probably spend the rest of the week until your mum and sister came back.

“Ye—”

“No she’s not.” Harry walked out of the restaurant and over to the car, standing in between the both of you but a little more towards you.

“Babe? What do you mean?” Natalia asked, a little bit shocked at his tone with her.

“Firstly dont babe me. Secondly, get your hand off my car. Thirdly, don’t ever come near me or my sister ever again.” Harry ordered angrily. You’d never seen him this angry before. You stood behind him, afraid of what was about to go down.

“What has she said to you, because—”

“She’s my sister and she’s got a name. Y/N didn’t tell me anything. Lemon Puffs, however, has eyes and ears everywhere and it’s amazing the stories you hear when you’re stood at the cashier or next to someone at the urinals.” Harry accused Natalia and she went hot red in the face, embarrassed that this conversation was actually happening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Maybe this will jog your memory. ‘I think you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.’” Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest confrontationally. Guarding and protecting you. You felt safe.

“Wha— You think I would say that?” Natalia asked, pretending to be offended by the accusation.

“I don’t know, let’s ask Y/N shall we? Y/N, did Natalia say that to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at you with hope in his eyes, but also sorriness for everything that’s happened. You could see it all behind his eyes and you wanted to squeeze him tight to accept his apology, because you loved him and you needed him.

“Y-yes.” You answered, looking down so you didn’t have to make eye contact with Natalia.

“Harry you can’t possibly believe her.” Natalia laughed, but there was heavy insecurity in her tone.

“I trust her more than anyone. More than you. I trust Y/N with my life.” Harry back answered, taking no more bullshit from his ex-girlfriend. “We’re done Natalia. Okay? I don’t want to see you ever again. What you’ve said and done to my sister is unforgivable and I don’t want someone like you in my life.”

“You were a dick too.” You added quietly behind him and he just turned round to smile and wink at you.

“So what? That’s it?” Natalia asked, dumbfounded.

“Bye Natalia.” Harry walked around to the drivers seat and you to the passenger side. He stopped before opening the door though, wanting to say one last thing. “The bill was split in half by the way. Paul’s just inside waiting for you to pay.”

With that, you both got in the car, laughing at Natalia’s reaction and just everything. Apologises were made and promises of no relationships until you two had built back up yours were sworn. It would take time, but Harry was willing to prove that he was a good brother and you were always going to be someone he wanted around.

[wri0thesley]

Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in

oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible. 

date night - nanami x reader (3k)

you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.

warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.

You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.

Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.

“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”

Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.

“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”

You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.

You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.

You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.

What you haven’t done, is go on a date.

And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week -  the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--

You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.

It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.

You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.

Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.

It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--

Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.

The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.

“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”

“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.

“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”

“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”

He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.

“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”

You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.

When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.

But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.

“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”

He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.

“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.

“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”

He whips the cover off the main dish.

You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.

There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”

“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”

“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.

“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.

“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.

He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.

That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.

“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?

The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.

He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?

“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”

He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--

You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?

You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”

How do you answer that?

The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.

Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--

“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”

The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.

Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;

“Please do.”

He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.

The movie plays on, forgotten.

[macnevercries]

Champagne and Cake

(Dilf! Bakugou x Chubby F! Reader)

Warnings- oral(receiving), penetrative sex, cream pie, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, age gap, plus sized reader, mentions of alcohol

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Men your age usually don’t go for your body type. 20 something’s have always gone for skinnier girls, at least in your experience. But men in there 30s and 40s? They absolutely adored you. All of your soft curves and plush body, perfect in their eyes. You were used to the attention from the older men, it was a confidence booster but you never considered dating any of them. You always pined for your male friends who didn’t return your feelings. Who knew someone out there would change your mind.

Going out to meet online dates scared you, you were afraid of being catfished or harassed but this one was different. You had been talking for almost a month and he seemed so.. genuine. His personality could be prickly but at least he was being real to himself. You cherished honesty and he gave it to you. He was a little older, but you decided to step out of your comfort zone. Despite his age he was insanely handsome, in fact his age added to his looks.

You slip on a little black dress and kitten heels, getting ready for your date. You don’t remember the last time you had been this excited. And on top of that he was taking you to a real restaurant, not just a coffee shop. This man was full of green flags.

You pass by the mirror and check yourself out one last time before going to grab your purse, even you had to admit you looked good. Your phone dings from the couch and you rush over to get it, tripping a little as you go. Picking up your phone you see a message from your date;

-Can I pick you up at your house? There’s a specific detour on the way back from the restaurant I’d like to show you, it’s a place I love-

You read over his message, a little suspicious but you decide it’s okay. You had been talking for such a long time and you have to admit you’re quite interested in what place he would take you to. You type your address with a smiley face sitting down on your couch. After scrolling through your phone for around 10 minutes you get another text from him and you run to the door, adjusting your hair and grabbing your purse.

You lock your door behind you and dash over to the blonde man, grinning wildly. He chuckles at your excitement, embracing you in a hug as a greeting. You don’t expect it but you hug him back, man does he smell good. You inhale into his shoulder, cedar, spice and caramel filling your nose. You can’t help but nuzzle your face into him a little, quickly pulling back when your realize what you’ve done. You apologize quietly, an embarrassed red flushing your cheeks.

His crimson eyes take you in. He couldn’t help but think how cute you were, a blushing mess, round cheeks and plush thighs showing out of the bottom of your dress. You looked good enough to eat.

-You look gorgeous- he smiles, eyes crinkling at the ends.

Somehow your face manages to get redder -Thank you, you look amazing too-

His pictures don’t do him justice. His spiked blonde hair reminds you of his youthful personality, but his smile lines and wisdom-filled eyes give him away. He’s taller than you, a little tan from years in the sun and broadly built. His shoulders extend far and muscles line his arms, perfectly covered by his well-fit suit that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He’s more gorgeous than any man you’ve been with.

He takes your hand and opens the passenger side door for you, walking around to get in after you. Such a gentleman, no man your age had ever treated you with such respect.

-Where are we going?- you ask as he pulls out of your driveway.

-A restaurant down town, only the best for a darling like you-

-Katsuki don’t mess around, I meant the ‘detour’ you told me about-

-That’s a secret, it would be no fun if I told you-

You huff, slightly annoyed at his response but still giddy with excitement. He drives calmly, it’s obvious he’s been doing it for years. As you pass through the city he reaches his hand out and places it on top of your thigh.

-Is this okay?- he asks, glancing over at you. You nod a little too quickly, the feeling of his gruff hands on your soft skin a little overwhelming in the best way.

-Good, you’re mine- He squeezes your thigh a little rough and your can only nod, his words going straight to your core.

You pull up to the restaurant and once again he gets out, opening your door and helping you out. You link your arm around his as he leads you into the most elegant place you’ve ever seen. He speaks to the hostess with you at his side, words flow from his lips as smooth as silk and it’s obvious he charms not only you.

You get led to a private table in the back, food already waiting for you.

-I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered for us, I know the best things here and I wanted you to be able to try them all-

You sit down across from him, mouth open in awe at the presentation in front of you. It looked amazing, a variety of expensive looking dishes almost completely covered the table.

-You did all this for me?-

-Anything for you princess, I love to spoil-

You giggle at his nickname, satisfied with how the date was going. You both dig into the food, exchanging small chatter smoothly as you eat. The atmosphere is romantic and serene, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Waiters come to collect your plates and bring Bakugou a box and a bottle.

-What’s that?- you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows at him

-Part of the surprise sweetheart-

You fake a pout, grabbing his strong arm again as you leave the restaurant. He sets the box and the bottle in the back, resting his hand on your leg once again as he drives. He drives out of the city and towards the hillside, a beautiful forest surrounding you. You gape at the landscape, you hadn’t explored far out past the city very much and it was so enchanting at sunset. He drives up a hill, parking towards the top near a few trees.

-Can you stay here for a few minutes?-

You whine but nod, not wanting him to leave. He grabs the items from the back and opens the trunk, walking out of your view through the forest. He returns soon, a piece of fabric in his hands. He grabs your arm and locks the car, tucking your hair behind your ears.

-Turn around for me-

You don’t question it when he wraps a blindfold around your eyes, careful with the pressure but making sure you can’t see anything.

-Trust me okay? You’ll love this-

-Mhm, I trust you Katsuki-

You don’t see his smirk, but you can almost tell that it’s there. He leads you through the trees, one of his hands on either of your shoulders, a firm grip that reassures you. He stops suddenly, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. He slips the fabric off of your eyes and you audibly gasp at the view.

A blanket is in front of you, cake and champagne set out on top of them. Beyond the blanket is the most beautiful sunset, the sky pink and red, clouds blending the colors. Hills beyond it lit up by the soft light. It looks like a painting, it’s perfect.

-This is my favorite place and I wanted to bring you here-

His arms don’t leave you, in fact he squeezes you tighter. You feel so good in his arms, so soft, so comfortable.

-Thank you Katsuki, this is amazing-

-You’re amazing, you deserve this princess-

You turn around and link your arms behind his neck, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. You pull away after a few seconds but he grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for another, hungrier kiss. He eases you down onto the blanket, taking his place above you.

His lips are soft, tongue rough as he swipes it against your mouth, pleading for entrance. Your lips part slightly and he shoves his way in, exploring the caverns of your mouth. You give into him, letting him take care of you. Eventually you part, foreheads pressing together as you pant into his mouth. You can feel him poking your thigh and you raise your eyebrows in question.

-What can I say? You make me feel young again-

You laugh and he grins, caressing your face. He could hold you like this forever. He kisses your cheek, lips, jaw, neck and exposed collarbone, making his way down. He never takes his eyes off you as he pulls on the bottom of your dress, waiting for your nod before continuing. He kisses up your thighs, blushing when he comes face to face with your lacey panties.

-For me?-

-Who else?-

He growls, biting your thigh. You gasp and shove your fingers into his blonde locks, tugging slightly. His calloused hands play with the hem of your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. He finally pulls them off, shoving them into his pocket. He flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe up your dripping slit. You shiver, gushing more slick at the feel of his experienced mouth.

-So wet for me princess-

You can feel the grin in his face as he presses kisses against your slit, a large finger toying with your entrance. Before you can even comprehend the pleasure he has two fingers pumping inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit, teeth grazing it lightly. Your hips grind up into his face and he uses his free hand to hold you down, a bruising grip holding you still.

His fingers scissor inside of you, exploring your velvet walls until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. He curls his fingers against it and nips your clit, unraveling you below him. He eases you down from your orgasm, slowing his movements and pulling out his fingers. His chin glistens in the fading sunlight.

-Open up-

Fuzzy-minded, you obey without thought. His fingers enter your mouth and you wrap your lips around them, sucking diligently. You taste yourself on his skin, the flavor only making you wetter. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting them to your lips.

-More, Katsuki, I want more- He chuckles darkly at your plea, a smirk spreading over his face.

-More? I can work with that-

He sits you up, unzipping your dress and tossing it to the side. His practiced hands don’t struggle to unclasp your bra. He does it in seconds, his hands immediately finding purchase on them. You unbutton his dress shirt, fingers tracing his firm muscles. He unbuttons his pants sliding them down quickly and sitting down on the blanket, pulling you on top of him.

He leans into your ear, his voice lower than before

-Ride me-

You don’t have to be told twice, you grab his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He prepped you well so the only burn you feel is pleasurable. You still struggle a little to sink down onto his length, the girth stretching you for all you’re worth. He grabs your hips before you can even move, pounding up into you. You grab his shoulders for support, moans escaping your lips. Your noises make him go quicker, he wants to, needs to hear more. You look amazing above him, the sun down by now but the purple sky illuminates your figure perfectly.

Groans erupt from his chest when you clench around him, spasming and twitching, having come from his cock only.

-Fuck princess you’re doing so good for me, I know you can give me one more-

You shake your head no but that doesn’t stop his hips, he pistons into you, his thumb finding your clit and circling it roughly. You whine loudly, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders. The overstimulation is overcome by pleasure as he continues. You can feel yourself nearing the end again, Bakugou’s grunts helping you. He’s doing everything he can not to come, but the blissed out look on your face makes it so hard for him.

-Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, breed that pretty pussy of yours, you’d like that wouldn’t you?-

You slut out a yes, followed by mewls as he gives you the third orgasm of the night. Your entire body is shaking now, and the vice grip you have on his cock brings Katsuki over the edge. He spills his load into you, painting your walls white. You collapse onto his chest, panting and pressing kisses to his jaw.

-Thank you, Daddy-

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch6)

AO3

“Mind ye’ve got that meeting this afternoon?” Ian reminded him for the thousandth time as they all sat at the breakfast table and Jamie fought the urge not to roll his eyes, already mildly annoyed at the fact that his bowl of porridge wasn’t quite right. He should’ve made it himself without backing down when Jenny had insisted on doing it for him, that way it would’ve been thick enough to plaster a wall with, just how he liked it. But his sister would never surrender the spurtle, working it through the oats and milk until they became creamy and setting a large bowl of sugar on the table, much to Jamie’s distaste. Thick enough to clart a wall and with enough salt to make your eyes water, that was exactly how he’d had it since he was a bairn, their mother taking hers in the same way. Only Jenny and their father had preferred that their breakfast be covered in sugar and the sweetness of the Scottish strawberries that grew wild on Lallybroch estate.

“Aye, I ken fine well enough,” Jamie grunted without turning his eyes towards Ian who was trying to encourage a spoonful into Wee Ian’s mouth. “Whit was the name of the estate again?”

“’Tis the only estate in Tomich but did I no’ tell ye? He’s changed the meeting to the golf club.”

It had been his idea to begin with but now Jamie was uncertain about how their drunken plan was taking shape. After one too many whiskies of a night, he and Ian had been sprawled in front of the fire as they chastised the blend that they were imbibing, arrogantly announcing that the two of them could do much better. Jamie hadn’t thought anything of it as he’d stumbled to his bed and let sleep take him but a few days later he found himself mending a fence post in the back field as Ian continued his musing about Broch Mordha putting its stamp on the world as a new destination for a premier whisky distillery and the two of them, its innovative creators.

Jamie grunted as he rose to his feet and deposited his bowl into the deep sink, letting the tap run to soak the dish and refusing to turn his body to take in the picture perfect family scene that was sat at the kitchen table.

“Mr Dunsany—“

“He’s a Lord, is he no’?”

“Is there a reason yer being a particularly crabbit arse this morning, brother?” Jenny’s voice was dripping with irritation, not wanting her nice family breakfast to be ruined by the interminable grey cloud that had been brewing over Jamie’s head for the past few weeks.

“Jen, leave him be.”

“I will not. He’s been a moanin’ greetin’ face since he came back from that bloody reunion and ’tis hell time he snapped out of it,” she said a little louder to ensure that Jamie heard the emphasis that she placed on the insult as it flew from her mouth.

This caused him to turn on his heel and level his sister with a careful eye.

“I’m sorry, Janet, but sometimes I think ye forget that there is a world outside of Lallybroch. Life can be a damn sight more complicated than poppin’ out weans and tending tae chickens, ye ken.”

If her temper didn’t hit the roof, her eyebrows certainly made a good go of it. Silently, her fingers curled tightly around the spoon, stilling herself against the pull of Wee Ian’s chubby little hand that was fisted in the material of her shirt, demanding attention.

“I ken that fine well, James. But ye canna jus’ come home every time ye see her and sulk like a wee bairn that doesna get what he wants. Grow up a wee bit, aye?”

At the end of her parting shot, Jamie felt the anger licking at the sides of his throat. The rage that he’d been directing towards himself was now begging to be let loose on someone else, someone that would bite back and Christ, Jenny would do just that. It had been this way since he’d come home, the frustration melting into a sullenness that had punctured the idyllic bubble that the family lived in at Lallybroch. In his worst thoughts, he resented both his sister and his best friend and the happiness that they shared. Jamie loved them to their bones, of course he did, but after leaving Oxford with yet another memory of how he’d let Claire slip through his fingers, the last thing he wanted to see was the very evident love between Jenny and Ian and their three children.

And so he found himself, in a suit that was a bit tight across his shoulders but he’d purchased anyway in a department store on the Inverness High Street, shaking hands with Lord William Dunsany in the bar of a golf club that he’d never seen fit to frequent himself. Jamie tried his hardest not to let the glances from the club members get to him as they walked around the lounge with an understated belonging the he’d never feel himself. He made sure that he gave a strong handshake, looking the shorter man straight in the eye and made the informed decision to swap from his usual Scots to his best Received Pronunciation, assuming that Lord Dunsany was one of those people who claimed to be a ’Scotchman’ but was as English as they come with the age old story of inheriting Scottish land as a birthright. Jamie had realised, however, that the man certainly knew his whisky and would make a not-half-bad business partner with himself and Ian if he managed to convince him to part with some cash.

Jamie was fuzzy on the details of how’d they’d come to the agreement but two hours and four whiskies later, he found himself once more shaking hands with Dunsany. The Lord would foot the seed money in exchange for a fairly sizeable but not unfair amount of the business and as a personal favour, Jamie would escort his eldest daughter around Edinburgh the following evening.

“She’s up here with me to get away from some nonsense that’s gone on at home but she’s been cooped up in her hotel for days while her mother tries to organise a townhouse for her. I just want her to get out and see the city. Who better to show her around than a native?”

Late next afternoon, his slight hangover thankfully having subsided after a coffee and a square sausage roll, Jamie stepped off of the train and onto the platform of Waverley Station in the heart of Edinburgh.

The tang of the breweries immediately filled his nostrils and he breathed deeply as the ever present sound of bagpipes floated down from the upper level of the street. While Lallybroch where was his heart lived, and he loved the humour and familiarity of Glasgow, Edinburgh held a special place in his heart. He never got tired of grabbing a coffee and walking the length of George Street in the sun, the castle bursting into view if he turned his eyes to the east.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made his way towards the hotel that Dunsany had insisted on to putting him up in, the same one as his daughter just to make things simple. Although Jamie had spent many a morning diving into the spectacular breakfasts put on at one of his favourite places in Edinburgh, The Huxley, he had never imagined staying at The Caledonian that loomed over the small establishment just metres from its door.

Jamie didn’t quite know what to do as the doorman who was wearing a bloody top hat opened the door to the hotel for him so he settled on giving the man a polite smile, resisting an absurd urge to give him some type of formal bow. He had been in nice hotels before but nothing like this with its polished marble floor and a huge vases of fresh cut flowers on most surfaces that he could see.

“Mr Fraser, we have you in the Robert Louis Stevenson Suite for two nights. Here is your room key and it also includes the number for the Concierge, should you have any need. We have a table booked in the Peacock Alley bar for you and Miss Dunsany at 6pm this evening and I would be happy to make any dinner reservations you would like to make, within or outwith the hotel. Michael can get the rest of your bags from the car,” a neat blonde woman smiled at him from the reception desk as she inclined her head to the bellboy hovering at a polite distance over Jamie’s right shoulder.

“It’s nae bother, lass, I’ve only got the one bag,” Jamie muttered with a hint of embarrassment as he pulled the bag from the floor and swiped the keycards from the desk, smiling back at her. “Thank ye.”

When he stepped through the door that bore the name of one of Scotland’s most beloved authors, his growing Imposter Syndrome ramped up a few notches. Crossing the floor towards the window, Jamie was greeted by a beautiful view of the castle as it loomed over the city. He didn’t quite know how to act, having never been in such a large and clearly expensive hotel room. In fact, it wasn’t even a room, the woman at the desk had called it a suite.

Flicking through the TV channels for a little while, settling on the new show about Billy Connolly’s upbringing in Scotland, his fingers lazily scratched at the bare patch of skin just above his belt buckle. Something about being in a different city and having some time to himself made him feel lighter than he had in weeks and he gave himself permission to laugh at a particularly lewd joke that spilled from The Big Yin’s mouth on the TV.

Jamie’s phone, lying face up on the mattress beside his left shoulder, startled him as it gave a firm buzz. Sitting up, he opened the latest message from Geneva, telling him that she wanted to go out for dinner somewhere nice tonight. He was under no illusion as to the fact that when someone like Geneva Dunsany used the words ‘somewhere nice’, she was actually saying ‘somewhere expensive’. But thankfully, Jamie knew just the place and sent her a reply saying that he had it in hand before phoning down to the reception and having the helpful woman book a table at a restaurant he knew would be impressive enough but not so posh that he would feel out of his depth by eating there.

Although they’d messaged back and forth that afternoon, he hadn’t bothered to enlarge the tiny picture next to her name at the top of the screen. Toying with his phone, Jamie resolved that he had to know what the lass looked like, not wanting to have to shuffle embarrassingly around the bar trying to figure out who he was there to meet.

Her picture brought to its full size, he looked at her for the first time and tried was pleasantly surprised. She was clearly beautiful. Dark hair that flowed in loose waves over bare shoulders, her skin a beautiful olive brown from a summer tanning on a beach somewhere. She was looking at the camera dead on with a surety that came from a privileged upbringing, her face painted perfectly and a twist of the lips that couldn’t really be called a smile, as if she didn’t want to be seen to be having fun. She looked like every posh girl that Jamie had met in his life, every girl at university who would air kiss their friends on both cheeks while their manicured hands clutched at bags that cost more than his first car.

Suppressing a groan at the thought of spending a weekend with a person who no doubt came from an entirely separate world than the one he’d grown up in, Jamie divested himself of his socks as he plodded, bare feet on plush carpet, through to the bathroom to take a shower and clean himself up ahead of his evening.

Later, he sat at the bar, his fingers playing with the patterns on the cut crystal glass that housed his double whisky, he felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder.

“James Fraser?”

His stomach dropped into the floor.

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind at what hearing his name fall from the lips of an Englishwoman would do to him. He felt an absurd wave of revulsion swipe through him in an instant and he took a quick drink before turning on his stool to face her, swallowing the bile that had risen up in his throat.

“Och, lass, nobody really calls me James. Ye can call me Mac. ’Tis another one of my family names,” he tried to sound light and not as if the sounds of his name leaving her lips felt like the flesh on his back had been ripped open to the bone.

There was a reluctance in her eyes and he immediately knew that she was uncomfortable so he did his best to send her his most charming smile, gesturing for her to sit and then signalling to the bartender.

“What would ye like tae drink?”

“Martini, if you would, extra dry, extra dirty,” she ordered confidently as the bartender nodded and turned to begin preparing it for her.

With her chin in the air, she asked, “So, my father said you were a business associate?”

“Aye, I suppose I am now. My brother-in-law and myself wish to start our own whisky company. Your father has kindly offered to help.”

“My father isn’t generally in the habit of helping out of kindness.”

“Aye, well, hopefully he trusts that we ken what we’re doing. Or that we’ll figure it out at the very least,” Jamie tried to joke but she gave him nothing. There was something cold in her demeanour that he hoped he wouldn’t have to fight against for the whole evening.

After watching the martini disappear down Geneva’s throat in record time, he offered her an arm as they left the hotel and were hit by the cool air of Edinburgh in the evening. As soon as Jamie took the first step towards Princes Street, Geneva halted.

“We’re walking?”

“’Tis no’ far, only ten minutes or so. We have time before our reservation,” he replied, gently tugging on the arm that she’d looped through his so that she would begin to walk with him. Her feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete.

“These are £500 shoes, I’m not walking anywhere.”

“Lass, Edinburgh is a city tae get lost in. If we get a taxi we’ll just be looking at the sides of buses and traffic lights. Yer father asked me tae show ye the city,” letting her arm slip from his, Jamie took a step forward and gestured towards the castle, atmospherically lit from beneath now that the sun had gone down. He turned back to her with a kind smile and held out his hand. “Let me, aye?”

Reluctantly, she acquiesced and let him lead her away from the hotel. Jamie’s skin tingled at the contact and he realised that he hadn’t touched a woman apart from Jenny since the university reunion with Claire. He flexed his fingers experimentally and felt something swell in the pit of his stomach when Geneva tightened her grip in response.

The two of them made small talk as they walked through Princes Street gardens and up towards the restaurant, Geneva seeming happy enough with the venue that he’d chosen. He’d heard good things about The Witchery before and as they sat down at a table covered in a pristine white cloth, surrounded by painted dark wood on the walls and ceilings, he noticed how pretty Geneva looked in the candlelight. Only a fool would try to argue that she wasn’t beautiful. But there was a coldness to her that hadn’t warmed yet and so he kept on being as charming as he could, hoping that another glass of wine might bring down the steely demeanour that she seemed to hold on to for dear life.

Oxford had been full of girls like Geneva Dunsany. Wealthy, privileged and confident. After four years of university, Jamie had perfected the art of tuning out their inane conversation about which exotic place they’d spent their summer, who’s guestlist they’d been placed on for the weekend and what they were planning on wearing. So he knew how to respond to her constant stream of speech, nodding and agreeing in the right places and sending dazzling smiles across the table when he felt like rolling his eyes. Though somehow, he found that he didn’t actually dislike Geneva Dunsany. Something in her eyes, or maybe it was the way she chose her words, showed Jamie that the poor little rich girl personality was an act. Underneath the mask, she felt the same way that he did—unfathomably sad.

Something inside of him felt sorry for her, recognising the pain that he knew all too well in another. And while he didn’t particularly care for the woman, Jamie decided to be kind to her. He leaned closer across the table and started to respond to her stories with anecdotes of his own. With the help of another two martinis, she began to blossom in his company and the two shared a relatively pleasant evening together.

When they reached the hotel elevator, Jamie had nothing on his mind other than stripping off his constricting shirt and sleeping off the whisky cloud that was hanging somewhere around his temples.

“What’s on the agenda now, then?” Geneva asked as they stood side by side.

“Shower then bed, I think.”

“Sounds good to me,” she all but whispered, Jamie’s head twisting to see the dark look of seduction that was painted on her face. “Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t say no.

It was shocking how easily he slipped into the worst version of himself. There had been a few nights in the past where he’d spent too much time and money in the pub in Broch Mordha and woken up the morning with some woman curled around him at whatever bed and breakfast they’d invited him back to. He only ever slept with women who were in the area for the moment, never anyone who he’d run into again. It was always when he was half gone with drink, his body acting solely on blind need that he succumbed to his baser instincts.

The doors of the elevator opened and Geneva walked in purposefully, turning to look at him with an alluring smile. Jamie walked in beside her and pressed the number for her floor.

They found pleasure in each other’s bodies but it was skin deep at best. A simple matter of scratching an itch that they both clearly had and had resolved to using the other to sate that particular need. There were no delicate touches or gazes held for any real length of time. Jamie set himself to work, making sure that she got hers before followed suit. It was perfunctory. Pleasant. And when they both uttered their subdued sounds of fulfilment, Geneva immediately rolled away from him, shielding herself once more.

“Do ye want me to go?” Jamie’s voice broke through the dark silence of the room.

Her response was barely a whisper, “Please.”

He dressed quickly, roughly, and scrambled around in the dark for his phone that had fallen from his pocket. Geneva was lying as still as a statue but Jamie could hear the odd sniff from her and realised that she had begun to cry. After dithering between his options, his inherent gentlemanliness won out.

“Is there anything I can do?”

There was no response for a few seconds and he took that as his answer, beginning to move towards the door of the room when a single word stopped his hand from turning the doorknob.

“Stay.”

Keeping his eye on her as though she was a frightened animal that might bolt at any provocation, he slowly began to undress. When she moved over slightly to give him room to get under the covers, he did just that and felt a strange sense of kinship as she wrapped her body around his. Jamie held her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep in his arms. The sound of her gentle breathing was the only thing filling the room until his phone suddenly pinged with a notification.

Facebook Congratulate Claire Beauchamp on their engagement!

Before he could stop himself, he opened the app and looked at the posed photograph of the two of them, her left ring finger showing off an almost comically large diamond ring.

After telling our friends and family, we are so happy to announce that we are engaged! We thank everyone so far for their kind words and well wishes. From the future Mr and Mrs Frank Randall.

Every muscle on his body was thrumming with energy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what the energy was made from. Rage? Fear? Utter desolation? Whatever it was, it was coiling its way around his ribs, holding him in stasis and holding him hostage as he experienced it.

He wasn’t even considered a friend anymore, seeing as he hadn’t been given the privilege of a private message, having to find out through fucking Facebook. She had clearly changed in her time in Boston, the Claire he knew would never have given up her name and become Mrs Frank Randall. Randall-Beauchamp at the very least, for Christs sake.

Tasting the rare metallic nature of blood in his mouth, Jamie realised that he was biting the inside of his cheek. He felt the need to get up and do something, anything to expel the energy that was going to burst out of him if he didn’t channel it into something. But he was stilled by the feel of Geneva’s naked body against his and a rush of guilt tried to swallow him whole.

How dare he question Claire’s life, assume to know her situation all the while he was in bed with another woman. Reminding himself for the hundredth time that Claire had made her choice and it wasn’t him, he swallowed his pride and went to send her a message, even though he knew it wasn’t a smart idea.

He shouldn’t have had that final whisky.

Jamie: Just seen the news. Congratulations to you and yours.

A blatant lie but what was he supposed to say?

To his surprise, her reply was almost immediate.

Claire: Thank you!

Short and to the point. Two words that would shut down any further conversation, a feigned attempt at excitement and gratitude that he prided himself on being able to see through.

He knew that he would have been one of many to send the same sentiment that day but he had kidded himself that his text would receive a more personalised response. Maybe all she thought of him was a copy and paste response as she planted her phone down screen first on the sofa before climbing into the arms of her future husband.

In an attempt to hold the tears at bay, Jamie curled an arm around Geneva’s prone body, bringing up his hands to his arm and pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.

[spiderling-space]

Hello! I absolutely LOVE your Balkan!MC AU 😆 (and your writing in general). If it’s not a bother, could you write some dorm leader relationship headcannons with a gender neutral Balkan!MC? You can include holidays and other traditions too if you want, go wild! (Also if you don’t want to do it it’s totally fine, thanks a bunch in advance anyway ❤️)

AAAAAA I'm so glad to hear Balkanoid MC is loved ❤️❤️❤️ As you know, the Balkans are so diverse and at the same time, it is not. I thought about what could be added here for the dating part. You might know the stereotypical behaviour of Albanian, Bosnian and Turkish older brother/father and I'm unsure if it's the same for the rest of the Balkans. I tried to something from each of them and the things we all can agree coffee=date

Anon is talking about this Balkan MC, Part 2 and Part 3: Starter Pack

You can join the discord server :D:D 

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle and (Y/N) have been dating for a short time. During the weekend, they have convinced Riddle to go into the village for their date. After Trey promised to take care of the Heartslabyul while he is gone, Riddle agrees to go on a date outside. They go to a semi-fancy restaurant.

"Can I get the check, please? Riddle? What are you doing?" - "I'll pay for my share." - "No I'll pay both." - "That's unnecessary" - "I'll pay! This is Balkan way!"

After hearing Balkan way a number of times, Riddle decided to let go. He doesn't like the idea of them paying for both but he didn't want to argue. Despite that the check is higher than they expected, (Y/N) happily pays for both. They will make Riddle get used to them paying both of their date expenses in the future.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

(Y/N) and Leona have been dating for some time. Their relation has been chill until Leona said that his brother wants to meet the person he's dating. (Y/N) choked on the air at that moment. This moment was inevitable so they said okay.

"This is (Y/N), Ferena. You have met now we can go." - "I'M (Y/N)! HAHAHA"

They have never thought of meeting his brother at all and now their nerves are getting wrecked from just the thought of it. They don't even think of the king status of Ferena, just the older brother status. They thought they didn't get Ferena's approval at first and thought how it would go, getting shivers from it. They still feel tense even after Ferena laughs and claps them on the shoulder.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

(Y/N) and Azul were flirting for some time and (Y/N) thinks it is time to ask Azul out properly. They are happy that Azul has no older brother that they will deal with but he has two dads, biological and step one and then there is the mother. 

"I want to date you so I'm ready to meet your parents, Azul." - "Why would you want to meet them?" - "So they can see you are dating a nice person and get some sort of acceptance from them?"

(Y/N) is used to being family-oriented, the family involving in a huge part of their lives. They thought Azul was the same. Even if they won't meet with Azul's dads, maybe they will meet with the mother. It feels weird for them to not interact with the parents.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim has invited (Y/N) to a date set in Scarabia dorm. Of course, Jamil will be the one to prepare the dishes. Kalim is usually one to prefer to be in the crowds but since they are on a date, it is just two of them and Kalim wants to be the one serving. 

"You've finished already! I'll go bring some more!" - "Sure!":O

Regardless of who is cooking, Scarabia is the hosting place and (Y/N) is the guest. They can't just deny the food. They eat everything on the plate and Kalim keeps bringing more dishes. They have eaten the main dish, dessert and haven't even eaten any fruit. They don't want to be rude and refuse the food. Thankfully, Jamil comes and suggest Kalim that they should take a ride with the flying carpet.

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

(Y/N) is from the Balkans, the macho men are very common regardless of how they look. They are certainly not macho but the idea of it embedded in their mind. When (Y/N) does not see any machoness from Vil, they feel uneased as if they will see his macho side later on. They couldn't stand this feeling anymore.

"Do you like me?" - "What type of question is that?" - "You have a controlling side but you don't act, you know, macho." - "Fufu~"

(Y/N) has to explain the relationship stereotype that they are used to first. Vil just rolls his eyes at the men they just described. Such old fashioned way of thinking. He assures them that they shouldn't expect that behaviour from him and not think about it at all briefly before continuing whatever he is doing.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

MC learns that Idia is Greek in denial, a fellow Balkanoid. They think they can get along well with Idia and he is good looking so they ask him out. The best way to go is to ask him to drink together. They could get to know him better too.

"Would you like to drink rakı/rakija/rakia together?" - "I don't even know what that is."

(Y/N) feels offended to hear this but they think it must have a different name. They look upon the internet and see the best drink of Isle of Lamentation. To accommodate him, they offer to drink at his room and Idia accepts 1) he needs one 2) he will be in his room 3)(Y/N) is likeable. 

Idia gets drunk after the first glass. Though he didn't add water in it so (Y/N) is impressed.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

Malleus loves drinking black coffee and he sees (Y/N) as his friend so he decides to invite them to drink coffee together. He is happy to hear them say "Yes!" with such excitement. They are such a nice friend. On the day of coffee day, he sees that they are dressed fancier than usual. He thinks it is just what humans wear to drink coffee.

"I didn't expect you to ask me out, Malleus." - "Ask you out?" - "Ah yeah, old terms... Courting." - "I did not ask to court you, (Y/N)"

(Y/N) cringes at that moment and slurps the hot coffee instantly, only to burn their tongue and start coughing. Their face seems like it's on fire. He offers to help but they refuse help. After the incident, they seem somewhat different during their coffee time. He will ask what this was about to Lilia later on.