#no self respecting knowledgeable cook would leave this in the dish

[buckysmith]

Ramadan Special

NON BINARY READER

First disclaimer, I'm NOT a Muslim, so I use google and a lot of websites to write that headcanon, so I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE for ANY mistakes, please let me know if I did something wrong/incorrect and I'll correct it as fast as I can!

Why do I do an Ramadan special  when I'm not an Muslim? 'Cause it's only fair for my  dear friends from another religion to have the same treatment as my own religion, so cause I did an Christmas special, I'll do an Ramadan special as well.

So as a Christian I wish all my Muslim friends, a happy Ramadan, may all your duas come true this Ramadan!

Ramadan Mubarak! <3

Enjoy it D. and thank you so much for helping me with the intel <3

Oh and dear, if you're reading this, I was just as embarrassed as gromsko, much love  😂

Ghost:

- he knows that for you it is an incredibly important period, so it hurts him even more to leave you alone during this time because of his job

- if he is not in the country due to his job and has the time, he will call you just before iftar to either wish you a good evening or to be there via FaceTime

- if he is at home, he helps you during the day to prepare food for the evening so that you can have a nice time together with friends and family in the evening

- if you are not feeling well, it is not a problem for him to take over your household chores, because he has the highest respect for what you do for your faith and seeing you happy is the most important for him

- during ramadan he also keeps some distance physically so as not to tempt you

- he would even sleep in the guest room if you want it

- it is important for him not to do anything wrong and therefore he learns through you, other muslims and many books what he has to follow and what he is allowed to do and what not, which what  he can help you and so much more

- expect him to sit next to you, almost asleep just to eat suhoor at 3 AM with you

- he doesn’t give a something when you tell him that he can go to sleep early, he stays awake for you no matter what, no matter how tired he is

Soap

- as a Roman Catholic, he is familiar with fasting, however, it was a surprise to him how big the difference are

- he was a bit confused at the beginning, not knowing exactly what he could and could not do.

- when he found out that you were going to fast for a month and therefore abstain from water and food for a month, he was already panic-stricken that you would die because of the dehydration.

- however the fear subsided after you explained it to him and he felt really stupid

- if he is not at home during ramadan because of his job, he will make sure you are near your family/friends or that you can go to his family to break the fast

- he is a really good cook and his dishes are always very good, he doesn't like spicy food but he will cook anything for you, you just have to tell him what you want.

- if you are not feeling well during Ramadan, he will make sure that he can at least make your life more comfortable

- but expect him to avoid you physically like the plague itself

- he loves you too much and has too little self control to keep the relationship between you "normal" so he tries to have as little physical contact as possible, after all he doesn't want you to commit a sin or anything like that

- while you are fasting, he is also fasting while he is at home, he thinks it is unfair that only you are fasting and so he goes along with it

- but if he goes on a mission he apologizes a thousand times for not fasting as well.

Alejandro

- he is quite awkward at the beginning concerning the topic.

- México isn't a country with  many muslims and therefore he simply lacks the knowledge.

- however, it is important to him that you know that he supports you in every aspect of your life.

- accordingly he learns a lot about your religion to not look completely stupid

- but he was really awkward the first time

- he did not know what he is allowed to do and what not

- in his base there was always music playing, when he found out that you were not allowed to listen to music among other things, he made sure that as soon as you entered the base there was no music to be heard anywhere

- when he found out that you were in fact allowed to listen to music, he felt so stupid and you teased him about it endlessly

- he even arranged for you to have your own little room on the base, which looked towards Mecca, where you could pray in peace, if you ever spent a longer time on the base

- he also tried not to drink or eat in front of you, nor to say any swear words in that time

- he would also gladly do the cooking for you if it was too much for you and you needed time to rest or pray.

- he avoided physical touch with you like the plague, cause he knew himself and he wanted everything but to commit a sin

Rudy

- he is a little awkward at the beginning, in México there are not many Muslims he could have learned from, so it is new territory for him to learn more about you, your culture and religion.

- The first time he experienced Ramadan with you, he was confused why you didn't have breakfast with him in the morning as usual

- he then offered you something to drink, which you also declined

- and when you told him that you were not allowed to eat or drink anything for a month, he died inside.

- but he didn't make a face cause he didn't want  to hurt you and just nodded with a smile.

- when he went to work that day, the first person he talked to was Alejandro.

- he talked to his best friend about how unhealthy it was to not eat for a month, but he was way more worried about you not drinking anything

- three days without water was bad, but a month?! How did you survive that before?! He was sure that you must be a super  human to go a month without water.

- he came home that evening at the time you broke your fast, and was shocked to see so much delicious food

- that confused him, he thought you were not allowed to eat and drink anything?

- after you explained it to him he understood and at the same time was so incredibly relieved and ashamed

- he also keeps his distance during Ramadan and the most you might get is a kiss on the cheek if you don't allow him to give you more attention

- but as soon as Ramadan is over he makes up for all the attention he missed during that month.

Price:

- he has traveled a lot in his life, got to know many people and many religions and is accordingly enlightened

- especially because his "adopted daughter" Farah is muslim herself

- he tries to be with you during this time, but his job doesn't allow that most of the time, so he at least tries to call you or write you an sms

- if he can't make it at all, he records a video and sends it to you so that he can be there too

- but if he is at home, he does it for you out of solidarity, because he was once not allowed to eat solid food for two weeks and was so mad at everyone who ate in front of him

- he even gives up smoking, which is incredibly difficult for him, but nothing is too hard for him when it's for you

- he is also an incredibly good cook, so you are not alone in preparing food for your whole family and believe me, even your family loves his food

- the hardest thing for him though was to avoid physical contact, because his mind quickly darts to something else and he knew yours was too, so he kept his distance.... Unless you allowed him that certain something after sunset.

Laswell:

- She has several friends who are Muslims, so it's not new territory

- she has already celebrated iftar with all of them, helped her friends to cook and is really good at it

- when you cooked together for the first time during Ramadan, you always let her taste the food to know if there was anything missing in the spices

- for that you had cooked all the dishes you would cook during Ramadan before it so she knew what they should taste like

- she also tried to avoid eating or drinking in front of you and also stopped smoking in front of you

- for her the worst thing was not to have as much physical contact with you as before, but she knew how fast your mind was elsewhere and she did not want you to break your fast because of her

Valeria

- she did not care much for religion, neither for her own nor for any of the others

- for her religion was only the strongest means to oppress people, because it threatened consequences after death and put pressure on people during their lifetime

- she saw it as the perfect means to control people the way you wanted to

- however, she knew that you were faithful to your religion and that it was important to you, which she did not understand, but she accepted it for you

- she also made sure that you had a quiet place in her villa where you could pray in peace

- the principle of fasting was not really understandable to her but it did not make much difference to her since you usually ate something after sunset anyway

- although she is not a fan of religion, she still tries to be there for you and support you

- what really annoys her is that she has to stay physically at a distance

König

- a few of his old colleagues were Muslims, which is why he partly noticed it, but other religions did not interest him very much

- his religion was more than enough for him, he didn't need to know anything about others, after all his was already too much for him!

- However, this changes when you told him about your religion, explained it to him and why you are fasting and all the other things.

- he listens to you attentively and tries to remember as much of it as possible

- he has the highest respect for you that you manage not to drink or eat anything during the day for a month, he had tried it for five days

- the food had been an easy one, he had had many missions where he had no food for a long time, but drinking had been the problem for him

- he could not do without water during the day

- the worst thing for him was that when he was at home he couldn't have that much physical contact with you anymore

- but after Ramadan he will make up for all the physical contact he missed, so be prepared.

Makarov

- for him religion is only a means to legally oppress people to make them compliant without getting violent

- he likes the principle of religion itself, because in his opinion it makes people stick to something for centuries

- For him, it's the same thing he did to people

- when you told him that you were going to fast, he was confused and didn't really understand

- you had to explain it to him and you could see in his face that he was not the biggest fan of it

- according to him it was just impossible to know if you had time to eat at night, after all you lived with him

- however, when he saw that it hurt you the way he treated your religion, he made sure that you could fully concentrate on your religion during this time

- he tries to support you in his own way, which may not always be correct but he tries his best

Gromsko

- he himself had a few colleagues who were Muslims and with whom he celebrated iftar, but only when you lived with him did he really realize what it actually meant

- he made you a Ramadan calendar like you made him an Advent calendar at Christmas

- he filled it with things he knew you would like, different sweets and a lot of other stuff

- he also helped you with cooking or did all the housework when you were not feeling well

- he also helped you cook and prepare for breaking the fast

- he found out of his own that you were not allowed to listen to music, he made sure that there wasn’t music playing anywhere

- that confused you, cause he was always listing to some Taylor swift song and when you asked him about it he told you confused himself that you weren’t allowed to listen to music, which made you giggle

- you told him that you were allowed to listen to it, but that you had to avoid it a bit, to focus more on praying and your religion

- he was SOO embarrassed that he had misunderstood it

- he helped and supported you wherever he could

[closed-third-eye]

Because it's not supposed to be there, those leaves are put in the pot while the rest of the food is cooking so the flavours from it spreads in the heat. It should be removed afterwards or not consumed even if it's there because they get hard like a dry leaf and are tasteless. They are useless afterwards and it's common sense to remove them from your food.

[koolkat9]

FrUk Week 2021: Day2

@hetaliashipsweek

Prompt: Childhood/Old Age

Paring: FrUk

Word Count: 2012

The Luckiest Man Alive

They had been married for fifty years. It still was hard for Arthur to believe. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, but at the back of his mind, there had always been that lingering thought that Francis would finally notice all his shortcomings and leave him. At least over the years, that voice had quieted immensely and Arthur learned to allow himself to be happy without worrying that it would be taken away from him.

If someone had told five-year-old Arthur that the annoying little French boy in his class would eventually become his lover, he would have kicked them in the shins. No way he could ever like someone as snobbish as Francis. The boy never failed to insult Arthur’s ‘fashion sense’ or steal his pencils. Then again it probably didn’t help that Arthur had the tendency to pull Francis’ hair and steal his books. By the first grade, things had escalated to the point the two physically and verbally fought on the daily. There were a lot of punches, bruises, and meetings with the principal during those elementary school years, but for some reason, they always kept coming back to each other.

Middle school rolled around and life got complicated. During the final years of elementary school, Arthur’s mother had been diagnosed with a serious illness. What that illness was was never revealed to Arthur even after her death, but that didn’t stop it from tearing the family apart. He had never gotten along with his brothers, but with their mother being in and out of the hospital and pressure being added onto all of them, especially Alister, they began taking out their stress on each other. They fought every day with some confrontations turning physical (on both ends). After a particularly bad fight, Arthur showed up to school with a black eye. At lunch Francis inquired about it, pushing him until he snapped and shoved Francis against the locker, hissing, “My mom’s sick and my brothers hate my guts so shut up or you’re going to be my punching bag.” 

For once, Francis was shocked, and instead of shoving Arthur back, his gaze softened as he said, “I’m so sorry to hear that Arthur.” Before he could do anything else, Arthur pulled away and took off down the hall. It wouldn’t be the last argument that ended with secrets being revealed. At least both had enough respect not to bring them up again.

By the time high school rolled around, the few friends Arthur had made over his childhood years had moved away or went to the other high school in town. The only person he knew going in was Francis and once more the two of them gravitated towards each other, but this time it wasn’t for a fight. Arthur was tired. His mother had passed away a month before school had started and the feeling of home left with her. The Brit had become a shell of his former self, often isolating himself in the school library during his free time and throwing himself into his school work. He didn’t socialize unless he had to for class and began avoiding Francis like the plague. It began to worry Francis and around Christmas of their first year, Francis cornered Arthur in the library, ready to get to the bottom of whatever was eating at his enemy. Surprisingly it was easier than he thought as the Brit quickly broke down and through tears began explaining everything. The fact his mom died, that he was sick and tired of arguing with his brothers and has been couch hopping for a couple of weeks because he didn’t want to go home, and every other minor inconvenience that had been building up in his life. 

Francis was stunned into silence, but before Arthur could run away like he always did when things got too personal, the French boy pulled him into a tight embrace. And Arthur let him, too tired for any struggle or to push his emotions deep down again. Francis had invited him to stay over that night and Arthur had accepted though he was hesitant. There were no arguments or fighting for once and instead they talked about other things, interests, classes, other normal teen stuff. It was nice and for the first time in the past three years, Arthur felt safe and comfortable. 

After that fateful day, fights between them grew few and far between. They still bickered and argued, but it was now a more friendly matter. Francis introduced Arthur to his new friends Antonio and Gilbert and the four would remain friends well into adulthood and even old age. They were annoying just like Francis, but they also cared about him and were there for him when he needed it. But he could really do without the constant jab that Francis and he were like ‘an old married couple.’

College is when Arthur’s feelings of friendship started becoming feelings of romantic love. Francis had found a cheap apartment not far from their school and the two decided to rent it together to save money. They fell into quite a domestic routine. Francis cooked for him since Arthur could never make anything not burnt while Arthur did the dishes. Francis did laundry while Arthur folded and put the clothes away. Arthur would go out to the small garden on their balcony and Francis would join him a few minutes later with water or juice and a little snack for them. Francis had a lot of morning classes so Arthur would wake him up with a cup of coffee or tea. Arthur finally felt at home and he realized he wanted to live with Francis for the rest of his life. He tried to deny it at first, but each time Francis smiled Arthur felt his insides melt and whenever he called his name in the soft moments of the evening, he imagined being called to cuddle with him. He loved Francis, but he was too scared of possibly losing him if his feelings became known. After all, their relationship had already been turbulent, why shake it up even more?

Although they may have been getting along better than they ever had, they were still Francis and Arthur, prideful through and through and unable to go too long without some form of argument. Things were starting to build up on Arthur again with school and his growing feelings and he was starting to become more snappy than normal. They had had a few of their friendly arguments before, but eventually, everything became too much and Arthur went off at Francis when the Frenchman pushed a little too hard. “I thought we told each other everything,” Francis screamed.

“Shut up!”

“No. Not until you get it through your thick skull that pushing things down until they boil over is not healthy. I don’t even know why I bother? You’ve never listen-”

Next thing either of them knew, Arthur had Francis pinned against the wall, silencing him with a heated, angry kiss. As soon as Arthur noticed what he was doing, he pulled away, but not enough to let Francis go. The Frenchman looked at him, cheeks red, hair a mess, and eyes wide. Without a word they leaned in once more, connecting their lips in a slow, sensual kiss. 

The following morning, Arthur awoke, wrapped up in Francis’ arms in Francis’ bed, clothes strewn around the room. For a moment, he allowed himself to admire the sleeping man next to him. Even with bedhead, Francis’ hair still looked beautiful and soft. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes closed, bare shoulder slightly exposed. He looked so peaceful and content which made Arthur’s heart flutter.

“Like what you see?” Francis asked, his eyes opening halfway and a soft smile spreading across his face. 

“Sh-Shut up.”

“Make me.” 

And Arthur did, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss on Francis’ lips. When he retreated back, embarrassment and doubt began setting. What did this mean now? Were they lovers? What if things didn’t end up well? He couldn’t bear to lose this man after everything they had been through. Maybe it was best to just forget what had happened and go back to being friends. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Arthur stuttered out. He pulled the covers up defensively, trying to avoid that kind loving gaze.

Francis was quiet for a moment and when Arthur stole a glance at him, he almost looked disappointed. “You know?” Francis began, his smile quickly returning, “We don’t have to call it anything you don’t want to. You liked what happened last night right?”

“I-I suppose…”

“I did too. Would you want to do more than just that? Like cuddle, kiss, and all that?”

Arthur was silent as he thought it over, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “If it makes it easier,” Francis continued, “I wouldn’t mind doing that kind of stuff, but if you don’t want to...I won’t push.”

Francis really was perfect. Attentive, loving, respectful when it mattered. What did he see in Arthur who just seemed to be a ball of anger and pent-up feelings? But the knowledge they wouldn’t be making this an official thing (at least not yet), put Arthur at ease and he decided to accept it. 

A couple months later, Arthur had worked up the courage to accept Francis’ offer of a date, and of course, being the thoughtful lover the man was, Francis provided him with the ideal date. They had gone to the park for a picnic lunch before heading to the theatre for a show. At night they cuddled up in Francis’ bed and fell asleep. It had been a pretty good day, but Arthur’s competitiveness had been sparked. Next date, he was planning it and he was going to impress Francis.

He got a reservation at the new French restaurant in town. Francis seemed to have enjoyed the food, but he said he could have always made such a meal at home. Arthur only rolled his eyes telling him that he was doing something nice for him so be grateful. Francis had giggled, making Arthur realize just how deep he was. It was exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking. After dinner, they headed out back to a garden area where a wishing well stood. “Do you have a coin?” Francis asked, peering into the well. 

“You’re lucky, here.” 

Francis pulled the coin to his chest closing his eyes before tossing it into the well with a plop. 

“What did you wish for?” Arthur asked, peering down into the well.

Francis brought a finger to his lips with a wink. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

Arthur’s nostalgia trip was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist and a firm kiss being pressed into his neck.

“What are you doing mon amour?” Francis asked in a low voice.

“Just...reminiscing.” Arthur lifted his hand, admiring the silver band on his finger. “Who would have thought we’d be here, like this, all those years ago.”

Francis chuckled. “Mhm. At least my wish came true.”

Arthur twisted his head to get a better look at the man behind him“Are you talking about that one you made on our second date?”

“Oui.”

“And what was it?”

“I would marry and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You big sap.”

“Peut-être, but you love me for it.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, you wound me,” Francis exclaimed, clutching his chest. 

The two lovers erupted into a fit of laughter before going in for a kiss. It was sweet and quick, matching the playful moment. I couldn’t last forever as Arthur noticed the time. “We better go pick up the boys from the airport,” he suggested,  “they’ll be landing soon.”

Francis planted one more kiss on his forehead, before taking Arthur’s hand and pulling him out the door. Truly, Arthur was the luckiest man in the world and he had over fifty years' worth of evidence to prove it.

[sithsecrets]

bruises like your fingerprints | din djarin x reader

din leaves a mark on you by accident, and it nearly kills him.

---

2k words

mentions: allusions to rough sex, din gives reader a bruise but it’s done completely by accident and without malice, inner turmoil, regret, self-loathing on din’s part, fear of rejection on readers part, it’s all fine in the end

---

Din catches sight of the bruise as you’re putting away a freshly cleaned dish, arms stretched over your head to reach the cabinet. It’s a pretty ugly mark, the purple-red splotch spanning over the width of your upper arm and curving around where he can’t quite see. Din wonders where you got it, wonders why it looks almost like a… like a hand. Like his hand.

The world spins and then falls away. For one brief, fleeting moment, the bruise on your arm and the knowledge that he put it there is all that exists in this world. Din has no idea how he makes it up to the cockpit without hurting himself, but he does, and when he finally comes to in the pilot’s chair, he prays he wasn’t rude as he left. Shame and horror wash over him like a tide of lava, burning his insides, crawling up his throat like bile. He can picture it now, how it all happened. You were on top of him in his bunk last night, face scrunched up in blissful agony as you came on his cock, and Din grabbed you… He grabbed you hard, apparently, harder than he knew, and now you have a mark on you. You let him have you like that, you put your body and your heart and your safety in his hands, and what does Din do? He batters you like a fucking animal, hurts you like you don’t mean a fucking thing to him. You must hate him, you have to, because he sure does hate himself. Maker, how can he ever—

“Din?”

Your voice is like a cup of ice water down his back.

“Yeah?” he coughs, jarred from his thoughts. You’re there at the door when he turns around, a plate of food in one hand, a cup in the other.

Right, dinner. That’s what the two of you had been doing before he lost his mind.

Din must have had his wits about him when he darted off, because you offer him his food like nothing’s wrong. He wants to say he’s sorry, wants to fall at your feet and beg your forgiveness, but you’re just standing there talking to him with your pretty face and sweet voice, fiddling with the fastening of his cloak… Din just doesn’t have the heart to do it, not now. And so he lets you go away, deciding then and there that you��re too precious to be so mistreated by him.

---

Mercy of mercies, Din’s next hunt comes soon, taking him away from you and away from his thoughts. The quarry’s an easy catch, but he’s grateful for the break, grateful for the distance from what he’s done…

You and the baby are waiting for him when he comes back with the man he was looking for, all smiles after the carbonite system’s been engaged. Din couldn’t be happier to see the two of you, heart heavy after days apart. The Child’s laugh and your bright eyes cheer him in no time, though, and you even make all of Din’s favorites for dinner, talking with the baby as you cook. Maker, he loves you…

In all honesty, the existence of your bruise slips his mind for a while there, the thought pushed down the joy of a good evening. It’s not until after the baby’s in bed that he thinks of it again, not until you come up into the cockpit barefoot and dressed for bed, a vision in a tattered shirt and damp hair.

“Hey,” you say softly, coming over where Din’s positioned himself in the pilot’s seat. He finds himself reaching for you immediately, drawing you in with one outstretched hand.

“Hey,” he says back, giving you a squeeze. You look at him for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, and Din already knows what you’re after.

“I’m going to go get in bed,” you tell him, shy like you always are when you ask him to lie down with you. “You wanna come relax for a while? Tell me about the hunt?”

Din takes a look at your bare thighs, at the way your shirt stretches over your chest, and he wants to say yes on impulse. But then his eyes graze that awful, purple-pink bruise on your arm, and it’s like there’s a rock in his stomach.

“I’m tired, mesh’la,” he tells you, reading between the lines of your words, “but I’ll come sit with you until you fall asleep, if you want.”

You say you understand without a second’s hesitation, smiling prettily and saying that you hope he gets some sleep two. The both of you go down the ladder together, and Din’s heart clenches when he sees that you’ve already made up your bed on the floor. To think that you were going to let him fuck you again, and all after he hurt you so badly…

It’s like this for three or four more days. You’ll come to Din all shy and soft, saying that you really did miss him while he was gone, asking if he wants to try and get some rest, words thick with subtext. Din turns you down every time, offering up some flimsy excuse, and it pains him to watch your face fall. The third time, he’s pretty sure you went down to the hull and cried. Still, he just… can’t. Not when he knows what happened the last time the two of you had sex.

Another night’s come, and, like clockwork, you’re climbing up the cockpit. Din can hear your feet on the bars, he tracks how many steps you take until you get to the door…

“Baby’s asleep,” is the first thing you say to him, coming to settle at his side. You seem tense, arms crossed over your chest, face pinched. Din finds himself possessed with the urge to kiss the crease in between your eyebrows until it’s gone.

“Good,” he says, “that’s good.”

Conversation lapses between the both of you, dread heavy in Din’s stomach. You’re upset, that much is obvious, but he has no idea how to ask you about how you’re feeling, can’t make his mouth form the right words. Thankfully, you seem intent on forcing his hand.

“Din,” you say, breaking the silence, “can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

“Did I… Did I do something? To upset you, I mean.”

You’re trying to be casual, trying to downplay the pain you’re feeling, but Din can see it. He can see it in the way you shy away from him, how you won’t come close or look him right in the eye. Any other time, you’d be in his lap or in the jump seat, carefree as you ask him about what he’s been up to or tell him about what happened while he was away. More than anything, Din would like to put the whole thing behind him, just tell you that he was having a rough couple of days and make it all up to you in every way he knows how, but he can’t just get over it. The idea of touching you again makes his stomach drop because if he touches you, he runs the risk of hurting you again, and Din’s not sure he could bear that sort of thing a second time.

“No,” he says to you, falling all over himself to reassure you, “not at all. You’ve been great, really.”

You nod at that, unmoved. “Okay, but did you meet someone, or something? I don’t— You’ve just been distant lately, and I don’t understand. I thought everything was good. Between me and you, I mean.”

“No,” Din declares, “I didn’t— There’s no one, I promise. And things are good between me us. I would tell you if they weren’t.”

This earns him another nod, but still, the look on your face never changes. If anything, you look even more hurt and insecure than you did when you first came into the cockpit.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me anymore,” you murmur, eyes cast downward. Something about the slump of your shoulders and the thickness of your voice tells Din that you’re trying not to cry. He’s overwhelmed with the sudden, intense urge to impale himself. “I know you don’t belong to me or whatever, and I get it if you’re tired of always having the same person—”

Din doesn’t mean to interrupt you, but he can’t take this anymore. “I hurt you, mesh’la, the last time we had sex. I put my hands on you and left a mark, and I hate myself for it, and that’s why I haven’t taken you up on any of your offers these past few days.”

You look stricken. “Din, what—? Do you mean my arm?”

Din’s heart sinks— of course you’d noticed. How could you have not noticed something as ugly as what he did to you?

“I’m so sorry, cyar’ika. I can’t believe I lost control like that. I have no idea what came over me, but when I saw the bruise on you—”

Now it’s your turn to interrupt Din, though your voice is gentle and insistent as you do so. “It didn’t hurt, Din, not when you did it and not after. I knew you were holding on to me, but I didn’t notice anything on me until the next day. And it’s not like I haven’t left marks on you either, so seriously, it’s alright.”

You’re speaking of the hickeys you leave on Din’s next and chest sometimes, bitemarks that stain him purple and red for days. He likes them in the moment and after, especially when he’s alone and wants to be reminded of you. But that’s all—

“Different,” Din says, shaking his head, “that’s way different. I let you do that to me, and I like it. I manhandled you like a fucking animal, and I don’t deserve to touch you ever again because of that. You should be treated with respect, especially when you’re having sex.”

“Din,” you press, stepping closer to him now, “please. Believe me when I say that I don’t care about the bruise. It doesn’t hurt, it never did hurt, and it’s not going to ever hurt. You didn’t do it on purpose, and I don’t feel disrespected or mistreated, or whatever else you’re picturing in your head. What really hurt was having you reject me. I thought there was something wrong with me.”

The way your voice becomes small and quiet makes Din’s heart clench, and it’s then that he decides that he can’t do this anymore.

“You forgive me?” he asks, desperate. “For everything, I mean.”

The tension in your body ebbs, posture relaxing, and the quirk of your smile seems almost tired.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” you say slowly, fingers resting on the side of his neck, “but if it’ll make you stop hating yourself, then yes, Din, I forgive you.”

Just to hear you say it is a relief, but nothing soothes his anxiety more than the way you drop right in his lap like you’ve been doing it all your life.

“Now please,” you groan, arms threaded around his neck, “come lie down with me while the baby’s asleep. I’ve missed you, and I’m ready to quit missing you before you have to go away again.”

You really are beautiful, Din decides, and he really is lucky to have you.

“Fine,” he concedes, “but only because you’re asking so nicely.”

It’s a tease and you know it, grumbling about how insufferable he is even as you fiddle with his cape. You’re thinking about how you’re going to undress him, Din’s sure, familiar with the look in your eyes after all these days together. He’s more than fine with being objectified once in a while.

“If you really hated me, you wouldn’t have come up here begging for me to come crawl in bed with you, cyar’ika.”

“I’ll take my forgiveness back, Djarin,” you warn, mock-offended, “mark my words.”

“Let me kiss you first,” Din says, knowing you can’t resist that, “and then you can decide if you’re still angry with me.”

[pandoraimperatrix]

caught between goodbye and I love you

DickKory | Pining | Eventual smut | Two shots | Post season 3 AU

Chapter 1: My heart is a sad affair

Nobody could say he didn't have been trying. Well, they could but it wouldn't be true.

Even though Bruce had made sure Dick knew how to attract the female attention, nobody told him what to do when it didn’t work as planned. Or how to stanch the wound.

Hell, Bruce made sure he could seduce anyone that could be seduced. "It is a very useful skill to have in your utility belt, Chum" he said then. But it didn't mean Dick didn’t pray for the sweet release of death back then when he was being forced to have seduction lessons under Alfred's or worse, Selina's tutelage.

He should have payed more attention to when they broke up, not that he’d have learnt something useful. They always got back together. He and Kory on other hand…

Well, been taught how to seduce someone for ulterior motives didn’t mean he knew what to do when his goal was not mission oriented. Usually in a mission, after the seduction part was over, even if he had to date the person for more than one night, he had a script and a clear goal. But what if there was no mission? What if he had hopes instead of goals? What to do without no script to follow? No set of rules to guide him?

And he was especially bad when he genuinely cared, never being able to judge if he was trying too hard or too little, usually finding himself overcome with anxiety which resulted into pushing the object of his affections away in the long run. That happened to Dawn, to Babs, hell, despite being a completely different kind of relationship it almost happened with Rachel and Gar too. Thank goodness his children were way more forgiving.

Since Dawn was gone for good and he and Babs had broke up again after deluding themselves for a whole five minutes that their childhood trauma bonded romance could have a last hurrah. He was back to reality. The depressing reality that he, to his absolute despair, cared for Kory, so much, too much, more than he had thought that he ever could for anyone.

Read on AO3

Despite all his overthinking tendencies, all his overplanning, all his precautions, he really didn’t see that coming. Of course, he was aware he was attracted to her from day one, it was nothing alarming back then, at least in the beginning. It hurt when she told him she needed to find out who she was before it got too serious, but he understood, and it was fine. They had time. And time they had, after their reunion, raising a household together, his physical attraction to her remained, and new set of feelings started breeding from their partnership. Something way more aggravating than the constant desire to fuck her brains off every time she entered the room, something deeper.

It took a while, because he was known for being stubborn as fuck, but he knew that a good detective can’t cherry pick evidences, and eventually, he admitted to himself that he wanted to be with her forever. Which not only was a scary thought by itself, considering how much time he spent running from everything serious and true, but it made his insides twist in fear.

Because nothing that good could last. When the love of you life quite literally fell from heaven, heaven can take her back whenever. And the thought of losing her at any moment pushed his anxieties to the roof. Her behaviour haven’t been exactly helping. Despite of not having anything substantial of proof, Dick could feel something was wrong with her, something that she wouldn't talk about no matter how many times he tried to approach her.

Maybe it was his fault, maybe he put himself in a position in which she felt responsible for his wellbeing but not trustworthy to be relied upon after the mess he had made with Slade and with Jason.

Besides, what claim did he have to demand any clarification from her? They weren't together.

But it still hurt. That feeling of uselessness, of having nothing to offer when she gave so much just being by his side.

They lived in the same house and were currently raising super powered teenagers together, everybody outside their tight circle assumed they were a couple, married even, hell, her sister thought they were together. And Kory hardly flinched when they dined out and the waiter called her “Mrs Grayson”, she joked about it, that also hurt, because it wasn’t true. Yes they used to have sex, and yes he was trying to make his grimaces of pain to look like smiles on regular basis to hide how much he wanted her, but they are not together.

But it wasn't by Dick's choice.

It was Kory's.

And the rejection hurt, especially when he didn’t expect it.

From all his many faults, Dick wasn't that kind of guy, it wasn’t as if he didn’t think that her rejection was impossible or insulting due to some high opinion of himself. But it just didn’t make sense. He wasn't deluding himself, although he sometimes had no choice but doubt, wanting to believe and respect her choice, but when it had such dissonance with her actions…

Because, as much as he sometimes wanted to take the easy way out that his internal self-hatred provided – that he was crazy, pathetic and there was no way in heaven or hell such woman would have feelings for him – Dick had also been trained in reading body language and micro expressions.

Everything about how Kory interacted with him felt like an invitation. Unless he had been suffering from a very serious case of psychosis (again), he couldn’t have been imagining the longing in her gaze. Sometimes, even when he thought she wasn’t in the room, he could feel her eyes in him. And it wasn’t just the hot looks he was used to get from people that only thought he was attractive – even though Kory would give him plenty of those too, his skin had been reaping the benefits of all his ice cold showers. But, sometimes, especially when he was giving attention to their children, or just doing something mundane like reading or meditating, he could feel her watching. A gentle smile on her face, eyes like pools of warmth and endearment. Nobody ever looked at him like that, with such unadulterated fondness.

Or the way she found excuses to touch him. He always loved the feeling of falling, doing unnecessary stunts so he could only feel that special kind of rush. With Kory around to catch him whenever he needed, he had been doing that even more often so he could feel her strong arms around him, and she never denied him.

When they fought enemies, or trained, she always found a way to make skin contact, throwing him at their mark to give him an extra boost, instead of shouting for him to clear away from danger, she’d physically pull him away in very unnecessary and unfortunately fast hugs.

She’d lean on his shoulder for no reason at all, even after her powers returned and she told everyone she was not feeling tired all the time anymore. In the mornings, while they washed the dishes together – since Gar banned them both from cooking – she’d bump him with her hip to make him move out of her way, and her hands always lingered when handing him an utensil.

Kory was always pressing away invisible wrinkles on his clothing, and picking things from his hair, so much he could hear muffled giggles from the children every time she did that.

And how could he have been imagining the way her face lit every time he entered the room, or when someone mentioned his name? He couldn't have made anything like that up. Didn't have the self-esteem necessary, or the self-hatred necessary to imagine such torture.

Dick did wonder, though, if living with a woman that looked like what poets sang about, that had the personality correspondent of the most golden of summer’s day, and flirted with him mercilessly, but yet dismissed every attempt he made to turn their relationship into something romantic was just karma. In the past, he had abused his own good looks and knowledge. Hearts had been broken because of his folly, and now the universe was punishing him or something.

Yeah, right, as if the universe cared that much.

But then, when his bitterness and confusion were not settled at all, and he was getting ready for another night of delicious horrible dreams about the woman that did not want him, something weird happened.

Kory Anders, knocking on his door, with a bottle of tequila, just a few days after he finally asked her out and she destroyed his heart and made a mess of his head by saying no. Not only no, she said she didn’t like him like that. That she loved him as a friend, and didn’t want to make things more complicated.

What a bunch of garbage.

For a fraction of second he wondered what she'd do if he closed the door on her face. But he'd never be able to do that, so, wordlessly, he gave away the space she needed to enter his room.

“Can I help you?” he said when she just stood there, looking everywhere but him, as if his room were a great novelty.

Kory bit her lip and he wanted to die. He didn’t want to believe she did those things out of malice, but sometimes one cannot help but being angry over such carelessness.

“Kory?” he asked in that bitchy impatient way of his.

“I lied,” she finally said in a puff of breath.

“What you mean?” His heart was racing, it couldn’t be. Was he asleep? Most of his dreams began with some sort of flashback of their first night. Terrible, terrible dreams that always ended too soon.

She looked away, searching for something, his heart shrank when swayed her body aside, thinking she was about to leave, but Kory placed the bottle and the cups on his dresser and turned back to him, the look she gave him making his throat feel raw. In two powerful strides she was all over him, firm elegant palms cradling his head as she tilted his face to the angle she wanted for their kiss. It was like if time went back.

He pulled her closer carefully, afraid she’d disappear in the smoke of his lust filled memory if he went too hard or too fast, but even when she remained solid, warm under his touch, her teeth pulling his bottom lip mercilessly, then spreading licks and soothing kisses, her perfume making him dizzy, he let her lead. It was easier, which considering his tendency for always taking the most tortuous path, added a layer of pleasure in a luxury hardly ever taken.

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

Notes:

I started writing this before season 3, because I wanted to write a fic in which Dick was pining, and also I wanted it to be steamy and smutty. But since the smut part is taking forever to finish and the pining part became bigger than what I planned, you get a two shot.

---

Preview:

“Please don’t this. I don’t want to pretend. I’m so tired of lying to you and I’ll have to pretend to the rest of my life. This might be the last night I will ever have to be myself, to be with you. I need this to be real.”

Kory took one of the hands off his hair, bending her arm backwards so she could rub him trough his trousers. Dick let out a moan and she used the opportunity to make a wet path of kisses across his cheekbones, until she reached his ear. She whispered something in her native language and licked his earlobe.

What else could he do? She wanted real. He’d give her real.

Dick pulled her up as his lips claimed hers again, her powerful legs crossed around his hips. He held her up like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed flush against his. His hands giving her support by moulding her round butt with his palms.

Dick he walked backwards until his chins hit the bed and he fell sitting with Kory on his lap. She stopped her ministrations to pull her hair from her face and look down at him.

“Hey,” she said, her eyelashes were still wet, but her tears had stopped falling, she looked so… No wonder she belonged to the heavens, no being in the planet could be so perfect.

[worstloki]

Fic idea: Loki mermaid AU with literally any plot except merfolk are canonically genderfluid (inspired by this one post about genderfluid merfolk in trending tumblr wont let me link it)

I can’t find the post but I’m jumping on the gender-fluid merfolk bandwagon so thank you for that :D

- plot? what plot? 

- okay so instead of falling off the bifrost or whatever odin dumps both his male princes manly sons #patriarchy on earth to learn some lessons in humility/obedience but to avoid the two of them working together he’s left thor as a human on earth and dumped loki into the water as a half-fish (thanks, odin)

- thor bumps into jane and darcy and erik except when he can’t lift the hammer he’s decided to go reunite with loki (because loki always knows what to do - he’ll know what to do about the hammer and how to get father to accept them back!) and they help him set up an ID and stuff for himself after jane realizes the guy has very limited knowledge about the wormhole he fell through.

- thor struggles with getting a job and working hard to be able to work on-board a cruising agency. he learns to work hard for what he wants, he waits tables and makes beds and no one lets him near the cooking but he washes dishes and everything else on-board the R.D. Stark, while always keeping an eye on his map and which parts of the ocean they’ve gone over and not found loki on, because he totally believes loki would be trying to get to him and staying near the surface just like he is. 

- loki though? nope. not even trying to get back. he knows thor is out there and he believes odin will accept his heir back eventually, but himself? yeah he figured out what happened, its obvious he was either abandoned/stolen and actually a jotun, so as far as he’s concerned being stuck as a mermaid is an upgrade. not to mention mermaids don’t have gender roles so he can go around following his interests and doing whatever he wants (he’s considered a juvenile mermaid and gets adopted by the collective mermaid community) and he can switch genders freely and no one judges loki for it. he’s happy down here exploring and learning and the ocean is a huge place to explore and he’s got a knack for learning ocean magic (odin didnt remove his magic he removed his knowledge of magic so he cant use it without relearning everything) and he’s even got friends now (more on this later)

- The Avengers left as humans are Tony Thor and Clint, where Tony is still Tony, and Clint and him work for SHIELD and the real reason they hired Thor was because SHIELD has been keeping an eye on the guy claiming to be an alien deity since trying to lift the hammer... they get close to Thor and with the amount of tales this guy has to tell and the way his eyes water when he talks about his brother they’re starting to believe him... and now Stark is helping cover the areas on the maps they haven’t covered and he’s built sonars to pick up on ‘mermaid’ if they really are underwater somewhere...

- The Avengers left as mermaids are Steve (found frozen the mermaids found him and converted him with ocean magic), Natasha (Budapest mission with Clint gone wrong she drowned in the Denube...) and Bruce (a bullet didn’t work but surely the hulk couldn’t breathe underwater?... anyways now he’s a mermaid and into water calming meditation and stuff and the hulk is just him but green and doubled in size but he keeps the tail) and they’ve been a part of the mermaid community for a while but they’re barely passing as adults even steve at 100 because mermaids are long-lived oKay so they’re a group that goes exploring and fights capitalist sea monsters and stuff

- thor learns to show when he cares and to value lives of even lesser races like humans and fish creatures when his friends are in danger (tony and clint probably started drowning in the on-cruise pool or something smh) while loki learns self worth and that identity isnt based on material things like gender or what services you can offer another (probably after he profusely apologizes for not being perfect and preventing something in a fight?)

- the sound waves tony’s sonar has? yeah its messing with the beings that live deep underwater including the mermaids (ouchie ears hurtie) and some ancient sea monster they’ve waken up with tony’s powerful tech (cthulhu is that u??)

- anyways loki and co. turn up to fight the monster while its attacking thor and co. and then the day is saved through teamwork and mermaids singing (okay, steve and loki singing, because they’ve got good voices and nat can only sing in russian...) the monster to sleep by projecting their voices into tony’s sonar machine.

- then you’ve got the reunion and thor learns loki never intended to go back to asgard because he thinks he has nothing there... the mermaids are staying on the cruise pool because Clint and Nat need to have a talk too because Clint was blaming himself for her death and maybe there’s some emotions there (they’re friends but also clint doesnt have a family in this AU) ? nat has learnt to be more expressive and clint is so so happy for her... thor does NOT want to leave his brother he doesnt care if he’s jotun he just wants to be with his brother... tony meets steve and is like ‘woah ur the guy my dad had the hots for’ and they get along and tony’s kinda curious about underwater tech? tony mentions the winter soldier and suddenly steve loved living underwater but he doesnt care if the world has moved on he has to go see bucky--  but, oh? what’s this? Tony is offering to bring his parent’s killer to steve? he understands the brainwashing doesnt leave the man responsible? Tony has learnt to be down to earth? by spending time making genuine friends for the sake of making friends? he’s gotten emotionally attached? he’s learnt empathy through watching thor;s love for his brother and watching clint melt at seeing nat alive? 

- anyways thor and clint decide to stick with their respective merfolk (thor doesnt care if it means giving up asgard’s throne he just wants his brother to be happy and if that means changing genders and living underwater and being appreciated for magic thor would happily trade the throne for that) (all clint had was shield anyways and nat? she was a friend he’d trade the world for even years later) steve wants to turn human and go to bucky but tony brings bucky to him with a hit on the noggin and after some time in wakanada™. OH I didn’t mention that Tony absolutely freaks out when he finds out BRUCE BANNER the legend himself is underwater too... Tony totally gets VIP membership and can switch between human and merman now... because he helped ‘unite many broken souls’ or something... hmm... Stark Industries Underwater Division sounds nice....hmm........

- everyone lives happily ever after and odin chokes on his mead when he tries to check on thor’s progress and finds him and loki happily together adventuring actually getting along 

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Peace Talks, Pt. 2 (3/5/2021)

Alastor visits Sir Pentious/Telly (@usedhearts) after learning from Alastor’s alternate about their falling out, to get his side of the story and open up potential truce renegotiation discussions from Telly’s side.

Apparently Alastor’s reaction to being told “Sir Pentious exacted devastating cruel revenge against a former ally” is to go “that’s so hot, I want to put my mouth on his mouth”—even if said former ally is another Alastor. We won’t think too hard about what this says about Alastor’s self-image.

(Part 1 where Alastor got his alternate’s side is here.)

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Oh Telly my brilliant, my beautiful, my utterly irresistible, mon roi de la mer!

🎶 How soon could I come over to have a conversation with you?

usedhearts

🎩 AS SOON AS YOU WISH, MY DARLING DEER! MY STERLING STAG! BUT PLEASE A REQUEST! BRING DINNER? 😘

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'd be delighted to! Any requests? I'll probably pick something up for speed's sake!

usedhearts

🎩 SOMETHING MEATY! PERHAPS STEAK OF SOME KIND, IF YOU CAN FIND SOME TO GO? I'LL TAKE MINE RARE! 😍

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Delicious idea! I can get a couple of raw steaks and a dry rub and whip up two steaks in your kitchen in twenty minutes! Pre-made sides will be fine.

usedhearts

🎩 THAT SOUNDS LOVELY, MY DARLING! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND IF I WATCH YOU COOK! I LOVE TO WATCH YOU WORK! 💞

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Consider the feeling mutual! We can talk while I cook.

usedhearts

🎩 WONDERFUL! I AWAIT YOU, AND YOUR LOVELY VOICE, MY DARLING DEER!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'll be there in a few minutes!

usedhearts

🎩💞💗💋🌹🐍💘🦌

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 https://youtu.be/AB5L_S3aIDI 🎶

–––

Alastor

As promised, it’s only about ten minutes before Alastor spontaneously appears in the kitchen, wielding bags from a restaurant and two different grocery stores. “Dinner has ariiived!” He dumps the restaurant bag in the middle of the table—just side dishes—and immediately busies himself hunting out a frying pan.

Sir Pentious

Telly slithered in, shed of his usual coat and in just his shirt and vest. Immediately, he beelined for Alastor, pulling him up and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Good evening, my darling," He cooed, releasing Alastor to bend down and grab a large cast iron pan out of the cabinet. "Looking for this?"

Alastor

“Yes.” He wasn’t even looking at the iron pan. He was looking directly in Telly’s eyes. “Hi.”

He’d been thinking about one thing, over and over, since his conversation with his alternate: the way Sir Pentious had stabbed him in the back. Tracking down his radio stations—places as precious to him as if they were his children, places that were like pieces of his own soul—and destroying them, gutting them to fill them with a new alien technology—all out of sheer vengeful spite. The knowledge had been roiling and boiling in his mind, scalding hot, his thoughts on it too tumultuous for him to figure out how he actually *felt* about it.

The moment he looked at Telly, putting a face to the crime, he knew exactly how he felt.

He pressed Telly back against the nearest cabinet, wrapped his hands around Telly’s back and head, and kissed him as hard as he could.

Sir Pentious

Telly leaned into the kiss, pan set on the counter and forgotten for the moment as he kissed Alastor back. His arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer, pressing their chests flush together.

He was breathing hard when he pulled back, an almost goofy smile on his face. "_Goodness_, seems someone missed me, didn't he?" He purred, pressing another kiss to Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

Alastor let out a groan so deep and low in his throat it sounded like the buzz of some ancient electrical equipment. “You have *no* idea.” He kissed Telly’s cheek, then his jaw, the down his neck. “I just spoke to my alternate,” he murmured against Telly’s throat. “He told me what he did to you and what you did back. I’ve *got* to know—the radio towers, was that your idea or blockhead’s?”

Sir Pentious

Telly hummed, his eyes sliding shut as he tilted his head, allowing Alastor more room to kiss. One his mine caught up to Alastor's words, however, his eyes flashed open and he pulled back, hands on Alastor's shoulders. His hood flared and his face went through a veritable maelstrom of emotions, before settling on halfway between disdain and shame. So, a scrunch.

"He told you? I....well, it...it was both of our ideassss. He wasss looking to gain a ssstronger foothold, and I dessssperately needed to curry favor with ssssomeone, and sssso we planned it together. I wassss ssso angry with Al-- Leclerq that I didn't even ssstop to get a written agreement before I sssstarted the processssesss."

Alastor

Alastor was kissing air for half a second before his brain registered the fact that Telly pulled back. Alastor’s eyes flew open. That wasn’t what he was going for.

He cupped Telly’s cheek, eyes wide and glowing so bright they were practically on fire. “It’s utterly *vicious,*” he hissed. “Poor choice of accomplice, and don’t get me wrong, I feel for my other—but good lord! What a *coup de maître*! Oh, the absolute *horror* that went through me when I heard!” He pressed his forehead to Telly’s. “You *amaze* me!”

Sir Pentious

His eyes widened further, somehow, but he allowed the press of foreheads. "You're....not upssset? About what I did to him?"

Telly frowned, but his arms slid around Alastor, almost cautiously. "I'm sssorry I didn't tell you before, about all that, but I didn't really think of it while we were, well...you know. It's a sssore ssspot for both of usss. I'm sssurprisssed he talked about it at all."

Alastor

“No no no, I’m not.” He rubbed Telly’s back soothingly. “An hour ago, yes. If I think about it too hard from his side of things, sure. But I don’t *have* to think about it from his side of things, do I? Most people are too stubborn to flip off that switch if they get too het up about something on a friend’s behalf, but I’ve got no problem with it!” (That “switch” he can flip off so easily is empathy. He sort of assumes other people can also choose to turn it off whenever it’s convenient.)  “But it just shows me what you’re capable of when somebody crosses you.” Alastor pulled his forehead back from Telly’s to grace him with a brilliant smile. “And *wow.* Wow!”

Sir Pentious

He's relaxing now, but still pretty baffled by this reaction. "Here I wasss preparing to explain mysssself from my point ssside of thingsss and defend my actionssss, but you're....impressssed inssstead?" Telly blinked and leaned against Alastor, setting his cheek against his shoulder.

"I admit that I am confusssed by thisss."

Alastor

“I *do* want to hear your side of the story, don’t get me wrong—but yes, I am impressed! It’s terrifically wicked!” He said this with undisguised warmth in his voice and capped it off by nuzzling his cheek against Telly. “I can mourn for those stations on my own time. Anyway, it’s not *my* universe.”

He ran a hand down Telly’s hood. “And... I admit, it’s... On some level, it’s also a relief.”

Sir Pentious

"A relief? How ssso?" He relaxed further into the touches, a purr starting in his chest, his arms holding Alastor close.

"I'll tell you anything you asssk..."

Alastor

Alastor let his arms droop to wrap loosely around Telly’s back. Carefully, he said, “You know what I did in my universe. To... the one I knew. And it ended the same for him—lost his territory, his title, and his respect. Except he didn’t come after me. When we cross paths, he’ll take a potshot or two at me, sure, but...” He let out a quiet sigh. “If there’s a universe where *some* version of me got punished for betraying you, good. And if it’s *yours*, all the better. It puts us on more even footing.” He nudged Telly’s tail with the tip of his shoe, “So to speak.”

Sir Pentious

He snorted at the nudge and his tail moved to curl around Alastor's ankle. "I thought it would be two birdsss with one sssstone-- get back in with the Overlordsss, perhapsss get my ssstanding back in order, and get revenge on the one who causssed the downfall in the firssst place. But I was ssstupid, and I trusssted....you know who. I didn't think to make it a formal deal ssso that he'd HAVE to give me what he promissssed. But V...him, he's sly, and far, far too cunning for hisss own good. I heard that even in life he wassss a conman. Makesss sssenssse to me."

Telly sighed and he nuzzled against Alastor's neck. "I did pick sssome of the more abandoned ssstationsss though. Desspite it all, he WASSS a friend once, and I knew the one he hung around mossst and decided to leave that and a few othersss be. But the ressst were oursss to take, not like he guarded them or anything. People were far too ssscared of him to even attempt breaking into any of them."

Alastor

Alastor’s smile partially wilted. “You’re not a dealmaker like him. You weren’t stupid, you were desperate.” Dozens of times he’d seen his own Sir Pentious floundering, launching half-baked attacks on too-strong enemies, and thought to himself *damn you, why are you being so stupid?!* He’d always known why.

“That’s how things were in my neck of the woods. I—lost hold of most of the stations under my protection—but only the FM stations. No one touched AM. Too scared of me for that.” He huffed, a tired smile on his face; but it wilted again. “Difference is most of the stations I lost weren’t shut down completely, just added to a big network. But the difference between getting shut down and getting networked is sort of like the difference between getting murdered and getting zombified.”

Sir Pentious

"Desssperation breedsss ssstupity, unfortunately. I ssshouldn't have trusssted him, though, I mean thisss ISSS Hell after all. No one to trussst but yoursssself-- well, mossstly." He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Alastor's neck.

"I regret it now, if only becausssse doing that let Vo-- _him_ take control that much quicker. Now he'sss everywhere and I'm left in the dussst. Bassstard."

Alastor

He tilted his head encouragingly, oh please, keep that up. “We all know better about him now than we did back then. And next go around, we’re not going to underestimate him.” He smirked. “But think of it this way. He’s spent the last seventy years helping build *your* future industrial empire.”

Sir Pentious

Oh, that purr is starting up again, deep and rumbly, and he continued to press kisses along Alastor's throat.

"You know, you're very right," He murmured, lips never leaving the spot they laid. "I'll take back what's mine and leave him shattered and broken." And he kissed up the neck and then across the cheek, back to Alastor's lips, nipping at them before diving in for a deep kiss.

Alastor

He kept talking as Telly trailed kisses up toward his mouth: “He’s spent half a century stamping his name on everything he can get—but a decade after you’re done with him, nobody will remember his name.” And then he dove eagerly into the kiss, all lips and teeth and tongue.

Sir Pentious

Telly returned all the lips and teeth and tongue he got, his arms tight around Alastor, the purr thrumming deep in his chest, like a motor running. He pulled back to breath, panting against Alastor's lips. And that's when his stomach decided to growl.

He laughed, and pulled back a little more, but not before giving Alastor one last kiss. "I think I'm in need of dinner, darling..."

Alastor

He was about ready to dive back in when Telly spoke, and he abruptly remembered the two steaks patiently waiting on the counter. “Right! I was going to... right, yes.” He reluctantly stepped back. “To be continued.” He laughed, took the frying pan, and turned on the stove to start heating. “Do you want to get the veggies ready while I’m cooking? They just need to be plated and maybe reheated a little when the steaks are ready.”

Sir Pentious

"To be continued," He repeated, beaming at Alastor. He nodded and got plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table. "Could you turn on the oven, darling? They I can pop these in and get them reheated."

Telly started to parcel the veggies onto the plates.

Alastor

“Sure!” He turned it on. “And, while everything’s cooking—do you want to give me your full side of the story with my alternate? You just told me about your involvement with the boob tube, but the rest...”

Sir Pentious

He blinked at the phrase-- 'boob tube'? Hm.

"Right. So, I was still riding high off my entrance to Hell-- one doesn't make THAT big of a splash without causing waves!" He laughed. "I'd brought so much knowledge with me into Hell, I jumpstarted the boom of electricity and steam power, and machines! So many people wanted a piece of me and my time and my brain, it was intoxicating. I became an Overlord and then Alastor-- er, Leclerq dropped in. His caused a ruckus and was also ushered into Overlord-dom, though he never cared for it. We met at a soiree of one Prince or other, I can't recall. We were both eager to meet one another-- apparently I made it into history books! He'd heard of me, at the least.

"So we got to talking, and found we liked one another, started going to the parties we were invited to together-- would go out and cause some chaos, you know, destroy things and the like. Then I started to include him in my plans. He seemed to enjoy it, at first, but after some time, he started to grow distant, pursued other things, but _I_ thought things were fine and continued to tell him about my plans-- the big push that was coming took a while to prepare for. And when the big day came, he simply...didn't show up. My plan didn't work without him and so it failed. I failed.

"It had been a risky maunuver I was planning, and so I lost it all: my status, my title, most of my territory....I was devastated. He never told me why. And we didn't speak after that."

Alastor

He listened quietly as he seasoned and then started cooking the steaks. Every few sentences, his heart would squeeze again. So much so similar to his own universe—how was it that both the broad strokes and the tiny details could fit together so neatly, but then the emotional core at the center of the story could have diverged so wildly? He so often found himself wondering: he could understand alternates of his that had never fallen under Sir Pentious’s spell simply because they’d never gotten to know him, but how could the ones that had once been his friend have ever gotten bored with him?

Sometimes he wondered if there were other versions of himself who’d had the same story he had, and run for the same reasons he had. Other alternates who lied to their alternates about why they ran, just like he lied. He couldn’t believe he was the sole outlier.

When the story was over, he was silent for a moment, turning it over; and then, so he didn’t have to think of something more important to say, he said, “You don’t have to keep calling him by another name. I’m Alastor, he’s Alastor, it’s fine. The context is enough to know who you’re talking about.”

Should he tell Telly why his alternate had left? Was it his place to share that information? Would it enrich Telly’s afterlife to know that his friend and ally had tossed him aside for no reason but boredom? He doubted it.

Sir Pentious

Telly sighed, taking the plates and sticking them in the oven to heat. He then wrapped his arms around Alastor's waist, putting his chin on his shoulder.

"I call him that because I want to differentiate the two of you in my mind. Because _you_ are mine now and it's easier for me to think of him as Leclerq now than it is to think of him as Alastor." He pressed a kiss to his cheek and moved to whisper in Alastor's ear. "And I don't want to be moaning his name in the throes of passion, only yours."

Alastor

Alastor cracked up laughing so hard he had to lean back against Telly for balance. That was the *last* concern that would have crossed his mind. “F-fair enough!”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed too, pressing his cheek to Alastor's as he held him tight. "So, you can see why I don't want to call him Alastor anymore!"

He leaned his head closer to the stove and flicked out his tongue, humming in delight. "Oh, those smell delicious, are they almost done?"

Alastor

“Almost! I just need to brown the sides a little.” He should rotate those, in fact—the sides cooked fast, he couldn’t let them sit too long. He stretched out so he could turn them without having to take his weight off of Telly. “Just a minute or two more.”

Sir Pentious

"Mm, good, I'm hungry." And he's back to kissing at Alastor's neck. One might question what he was more hungry for, the steak or his boyfriend.

Alastor

Don’t mind him if he unbuttons his collar a little. “Well, if you need an appetizer...” Idiot’s just asking for an anti-venom shot *and* for the steaks to burn.

Sir Pentious

Oh, and if that wasn't the most appetizing sight. His tongue flicked out to touch at Alastor's skin, and his mouth opened, fangs resting on his neck-- and he scraped the tips ever so gently....before pulling back. He did, however, kiss the spot he'd just teased.

"After dinner, love," He murmured, voice a tad rougher than normal. "You'll be my dessert..."

Alastor

He spent that glorious moment with his eyes shut and his fangs digging into his lower lip in anticipation for a bite that never came. The disappointment was sheer torture.

“Glad I didn’t bring dessert, then.” He had, in fact, totally forgotten about the concept of dessert.

And there were the steaks done! He carefully pulled the hot plates out of the oven, set a steak on each one, and left them on the counter. “Grab whichever you want!” He turned off the oven and stove.

Sir Pentious

Telly looked at the two and contemplated for a moment before grabbing the one on the right. He slithered to the table and set it down, settling himself.

"Oh! Silverware, I forgot about that-- in the drawer right next to you, darling."

Alastor

And it was a good thing Telly had remembered, because there were 50/50 odds Alastor would have just picked up the steak and chowed down.

With forks and knives accounted for, he sat himself as well. “So! The reason all this came up with my alternate is because *he* wanted to know why I intervened in your brawl, and *I* want to know what it’s going to take to prevent one of those fights from happening again. I don’t like seeing you missing chunks of flesh and covered in blood.” Particularly when the bite marks looked so much like his own. “He sounds willing to stop the brawls, but frankly I don’t think he’s got a clue how to make that actually happen. But he’s going to think about it and I said I’d talk to you about the possibility. So!”

Sir Pentious

Telly cut into his steak and took a bite, mulling that over. "Well, one thing is he could stop insulting me at every given opportunity. He does that quite a lot. Jokes at my expense, ectetera. He just makes my blood boil."

He huffed and ate more of his steak, and even a few of the veggies, look at that. "I don't want it to happen, but it just does, sometimes, the fights. The old hatreds come bubbling to the surface and we just brawl. I'd rather not be missing chunks too, though."

Alastor

“Frankly, that sounds like a perfectly reasonable suggestion to me! But if I were him, which I am, I wouldn’t put my faith in any deescalation tactics that depend on me keeping my mouth shut if I think of a quip that I know will make everyone mad but is objectively hilarious.”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I'm well aware." He snorted, glancing over at Alastor. "You are really quite incapable of staying quiet for long enough to come up with those quips of yours."

He smiled fondly as he spoke. "As for Leclerq, though, other than avoidance, which is near impossible now, I don't know what we can do. Perhaps just keeping you between him and myself would be deterrent enough."

Alastor

His smile half-twisted into a grimace. “I’d rather not do that if we can find any other solution. I fear I’ll only be able to get away with just dragging you two apart for so long. And if I’m forced to pick a side...”

He glanced down, remembered his place was there, and dug into his own food—imagine that, getting so distracted by a conversation he nearly forgot he had *food!* (And delicious food, at that.) “But ‘avoidance and sheer willpower’ was all he was able to suggest, along with extending the truce to outside the Hotel. Although he *did* offer that he’d be willing to open negotiations with you.”

Sir Pentious

"Negotiations? Hmm." He popped more steak into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I suppose that could be good for us, as long as there are third parties present who will force us to behave."

He glanced over at Alastor. "You and maybe....Valera? Though she is pregnant right now, I wouldn't want to have her where things have a chance of getting violent. Perhaps we could stay in a holding pattern of sorts until she has the egg and then negotiate. I can put off my renovations of the Hotel until then, I feel. Besides, I still have an airship to repair."

Telly took another bite and then remembered something. "Oh! Yes, we still need to move the airship to another location. I have another warehouse that I've found that will work well, and it's abandoned and the original owner got exterminated so it's up for grabs. But before we do that, I would like to get the cloning machine up and running to make more Egg Bois, I'm running dangerously low on them."

Alastor

Alastor clicked his tongue doubtfully. “They’re not quite as neutral a party as I’d like. I hear rumors my other’s been spending half his time under Valera’s couch these days.” God knew why. Seriously, a couch? “If a fight starts and if for some reason the two of us aren’t able to break it up and we have to pick sides, I’m worried they might take his. And I don’t like our odds then.”

Granted, Alastor wasn’t a wholly neutral party either. But he didn’t mind unfairly stacking the deck on his *own* team’s side.

He liked this new topic better. “Say, one of those blueprints you ran by me—wasn’t one of those for a cloning thingamajig?” He’d only gotten a quick glance at them before being uncharacteristically overwhelmed with emotion and losing the ability to read. “I don’t suppose you need some assistance with that?”

Sir Pentious

He had noticed that too, how chummy they'd seemed online, but he pushed that thought aside for heist thoughts instead.

"Yes! It was. I have most of what I need to rebuild it here, but there are a few key components that I don't have access to-- but I know where they're kept. I was actually planning on running it by you, as you'd be the key to us getting in and out undetected. I remembered what you did with that alarm at the mall and I figured that you'd be able to do something similar at the facility where these parts are! Once I have them, then it'll be quick to get the cloning machine back up and running."

Alastor

Alastor’s grin widened. “Well, now—it depends on their security! I’m lucky with that mall, they’ve got this automated wireless signal that notifies an off-site security office about breaches, really cutting edge stuff—but not so cutting edge I can’t block the outgoing alarm signal and fake the ‘all clear’ the office is supposed to send to shut off the alarm.” Studio laughter. “Depending on the facility and their setup, I might be able to do something similar; and if I can’t, I might be able to do something different! I’d be thrilled to find out.”

Sir Pentious

"Well, then that's the first thing we should figure out-- their security! Though it will be difficult to case it, considering the two of us do stand out quite a bit and I can't send the Eggs to do something this delicate. We'll just have to be careful." Oh, that mind of his was churning as he finished his meal.

"Mm, we WILL need to bring a few of the Eggs with us during the heist itself to carry the things, they're too heavy for just us to carry...unless...." His smile grew wide and he tapped his chin with a claw. "How small of a portal can Hentai fit a tentacle through?"

Alastor

“I can shapeshift,” Alastor offered. “Shapeshifting and glamours both. Or send shadows to check out the place, they’re hard to spot, particularly in the dark.” His grin widened as well, and he leaned forward, propping his chin in a hand. “I’ve done back alley surgery with Hentai before. We could flick off an angel dancing on the head of a pin without touching her dance partner.”

Sir Pentious

Telly leaned over, taking Alastor's free hand in his, squeezing it. "Oh, darling, I could kiss you, and I will, most ravenously," He purred.

"All right. It'll take me a few days to figure out and solidify the plan and stages of it, but with you, we'll be able to make quick work of it. And then, once I have the machine cranking out Eggs again, we can move the ship and I can set them working doubletime, and my ship will be in tiptop shape so quick that Vox's head will _spin._"

Alastor

He squeezed Telly’s hand back, heart fluttering—oh, good God, he hoped his heart never did that again. “I can’t wait! Keep me updated on the planning, won’t you?”

Sir Pentious

"Of course, darling, of course. I'll tell you about every step and leap my mind makes of his journey." He moved around the table, his arm sliding around Alastor's waist. "Now, how about my dessert, hm?"

Telly smirked and leaned in to press a kiss to Alastor's neck.

Alastor

Alastor shoved the last of the steak in his mouth—he’d done more talking than eating—and then slid off his seat and into Telly’s embrace. “And dessert is served!” He slid an arm around Telly’s neck and leaned right in for a kiss. (Alastor probably tastes like steak. On the bright side, at least it’s the same as the steak Telly just finished.)

Sir Pentious

And the steak tastes delicious still-- extra spice for the kiss, even as Telly laughed into it. His arms wrapped fully around Alastor, squeezing them together.

"Shall we retire to the bedroom, my darling?" He muttered against his lips.

Alastor

“That sounds just fine by me.” He was *prepared* this time. He’d looked up “how to give a hand job.” He’d found *fitting musical accompaniment.* He was going to ace this. Ironic pun unintended.

Sir Pentious

Telly leaned down and swiftly knocked his arm against the back of Alastor's knees, sweeping him up into his arms. "Then let's go." He grinned, slithering into the other room.

Alastor

Don’t mind the startled trombone sound effect. It was immediately followed by a laugh as Alastor wrapped his other arm around Telly for stability and leaned in for another kiss. Off to the bedroom.

[likeshipsonthesea]

okay so legit one of my first-ever nurseydex posts was this one right here and while i still agree with/hc parts of it i have to admit it’s a bit outdated for how i see nurseydex’s relationship now so i thought why not make a new “why i ship nurseydex” post three years later to explain my own rambling understanding of them??

so, anywho. imagine a dex-- back when he was just will-- growing up with this huge weight of expectation around him, about every aspect of his life-- expectation of what a man ought to be, expectation of what a student ought to be, a worker, a son, etc-- and despite what he wants and feels, striving to meet/exceed this expectation to satisfy his parents and make them proud and be who they want him to be. like, following his ma around when she does chores might be fun and helpful, but a man is supposed to be doing the dirty, heavy work, no baking or doing laundry (at least that’s what his brother says) and from the time he’s little he knows that college means money and they don’t have that, but education is also very important and college is how he gets a better life for him and his family, and so from elementary school he’s studying his spelling words and times tables and striving to be the best student he can be because scholarships and respect and expectation. and yeah, maybe there’s other expectations, around who he can and cannot like, and maybe that doesn’t always fit the way he thinks it’s supposed to, and he allows himself little indulgences knowing one day that he will do what is expected of him and make his parents happy, and the crushing weight of that-- of knowing what the future will force him into-- has him frozen between the need to be what he’s supposed to be and the want to be free, and these warring ideals within his own mind leave him grasping and uncertain and--and angry at everything (family, town, society, himself) for putting him there to begin with and then-- and then-- he goes to samwell

MEANWHILE there’s a little nursey, small and surrounded by smiling parents and nannies and love, and somehow, despite it all, he’s anxious. it’s his brain, probably, but at four, nursey doesn’t know anything about brains, all he knows is that his parents aren’t home and maybe that’s his fault and before he can understand how jobs work and how their importance doesn’t outweigh his parents’ love for him, he’s sitting at home wondering how to be better, how to be enough to keep them there, how to be good. and he excels in all his classes, gets bored sitting there with all his fancy private school kindergarten work finished on his desk, and his parents bring him to the doctor’s thinking it’s an attention disorder and he gets diagnosed with anxiety. at eight. and his parents-- mama gets mad (and nursey hasn’t yet learned to distinguish anger at the world and anger at him) and mom becomes focused, ready to fix it (not realizing, really, how nursey sees it as a need to fix him) and dad is maybe the best, he just buys some puzzles and makes hot cocoa and sits with nursey when the world gets too tough, and still nursey leaves thinking i’m a burden, he has to take the time to do this, i’m a burden, and he grows up with the idea that he has to be good, can’t be broken, has to pretend to be perfect even if he isn’t otherwise his parents will be sad and it will be his fault, and it works (until it doesn’t) and he thrives (until he doesn’t) and everything is happy and perfect and wonderful (until it isn’t) and things break apart and nursey decides perfection is impossible to fabricate but pretending to be chill, pretending to at least be okay is enough, and so he moves on with this veneer of okayness and this mess of anxiety and apprehension and worry underneath and it’s such a delicate balance he somehow manages to handle until samwell

(under the cut bc, well. it got a little long. oops?)

and there it’s like-- they’re both at the perfect point to just completely explode one another. nursey sees this walking ball of seemingly together person and pokes at it, this kind of self-projection thing really, trying to break the outside and see the mess within, and meanwhile dex looks at nursey and sees someone perfectly content with everything in life and turns on every probing question like it’s an attack, and maybe it takes a few terms-- maybe all of their frog year-- to start seeing past the cracks. maybe a few of nursey’s questions poke at places more sensitive than he’d meant to see, and maybe dex calls nursey out on things his anxiety has whipped out of control, and maybe after they lose the playoffs and dex is angry and violent and not enough and nursey sees that-- feels the ache of imperfection, too-- and somehow the knowledge that he’s not alone makes it better? and suddenly he wants to make it better for dex, too? and so they go into the summer after frog year with the beginnings of an understanding and things are-- tentative, but they know how to deal with fragility better than most, and it survives the break, survives the infrequent texts and tangential group chat conversations

and sophomore year they have rooms across the hall from one another, randomly. they walk together to practices, because why not, and tag along on team breakfasts (dex is a morning person, nursey is not, dex likes being helpful, nursey likes making it to bfast before holster eats all the waffles) and maybe they start talking-- actually talking, not barbs and banter and chirps just a bit too sharp to laugh at. it’s like an actual conversation for the first time since they’ve known each other, and c’s ecstatic and their hockey’s great and things are going wonderful.

until one of them catches feelings.

it doesn’t quite matter which one of them-- maybe dex falls in love with the way nursey gestures with his hands too much as he talks and how he waxes poetic about everything, but mostly nature and books and how it feels to smile without knowing it, and maybe dex falls in love with the way he feels around nursey, like he could say anything and nursey wouldn’t- he’d judge, maybe, because nursey likes doing that, but it would never be maliciously, it would always be out of a want for dex to grow, learn, be himself more. and seriously, that wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with

or maybe nursey falls in love with the weird bits of knowledge dex drops about any and everything, always attributed to an aunt or uncle, of which he likely has an unlimited stock, and the way that dex catches him when he trips on the sidewalk and the strong, sure way his hands curl around nursey’s body, and how when he gets flustered or embarrassed or angry or happy, his flush is a different shade depending on the emotion, and how nursey-- when he’s around dex-- doesn’t wonder if dex thinks what he’s saying is dumb-- he probably does-- because dex cares anyway and isn’t that just completely and wholly unavoidably wonderful?

so. one of them falls in love. there’s a dib flip. dex goes a little overboard. so does nursey. neither of them reacts accordingly and it’s nearly impossible to say which one reacts to the other’s overreaction. one person has their heart beat up (he still doesn’t like me, he still thinks i’m just someone to annoy) and then they lose before they even make the playoffs and then jack and bitty come out on live tv and dex’s parents infer things that break expectations and nursey’s parents start fighting (unrelated) and nursey wonders if it’s his fault (it isn’t) and they come back to samwell in the fall poised to break one another apart.

if in frog year it was an explosion, in junior year it’s a careful disassembly. they poke at the soft spots they’ve learned in the past year until the whole living situation comes crumbling down and, in the rumble, everything is silent and so much clearer. nursey is alone in a top bunk with a broken wrist, isolated from the team and his parents, scattered across the globe for work in an effort to get away from one another. dex is tucked away in the basement, sucking at hockey as his body refuses to get used to a different d-partner and his conversations with his parents consist of short sentences and loaded silences, and he has no idea what to do with either.

spring comes early that year. flowers poking up amongst frost-bitten blades of grass, birds chirping in the early hours of practices. nursey is back on the ice. he and dex don’t speak, except to work through plays. it begins to come back-- their understanding-- if only on the ice.

bitty starts visiting jack more on the weekends and chowder is off with caitlin and doing compsci homework and talking to recruiters. whiskey usually isn’t there anyway and tango is off doing everything and the waffles are cool but suddenly they seem so young.

on saturday nights, dex cooks and nursey sits at the table with him and complains, mostly to himself at first, about his writing prof. as the weeks wear on, dex adds his own complaints, too. sometimes nursey will throw in something good that happened. sometimes dex will tell a joke (usually a pun, usually horrible, usually inducing belly-aches in nursey regardless). afterwards they do the dishes. dex mentions how he used to love doing the dishes, how it calmed him. how his brother used to comment on it disparagingly. nursey mentions, another time, how his roommate at andover would hate the impromptu headphone dance parties he’d put on-- how it was something he’d do with his dad, when he was young. how it made things better, for a while.

(they never really talk about when happened, dex’s parents or nursey’s, the ache of loneliness that fall term, not until very later, after samwell, after-- well. it takes a while, but when they finally do talk about it, it hurts less if only because of the delicateness with which they’ve learned how to handle such things, by then)

 by the time the end of the year arrives-- when they win  the fucking playoffs and hoist bitty onto their shoulders with a burning pride in their chests-- nursey and dex would call one another friends. to their faces and everything. and then there’s a banquet and dex gets the c and-- as a twist-- nursey gets the a (maybe coach and hall approached dex before the banquet, explained how close the votes were, asked him if he’d mind, and dex gave the most honest answer maybe he’d ever given in his life-- it would be an honor)

they go into the summer with one another at the top of their messages. they call nearly every week, snapchat daily, about nursey’s internship at a publishing house, dex’s at a tech company in boston. maybe nursey panic-calls dex at three in the morning going on about the publishing process and how crazy it is and how i’m never going to be published and dex calms him down with some seriously misinformed words about the literary business that make nursey breathe easy anyway, and maybe dex goes home one weekend and there’s radio silence until dex calls him on the way back home and asks nursey to just talk and so from maine until massachussetts it’s nursey’s voice rambling about pears and children’s books and cooking equipment until dex gets back to the apartment his internship is paying for and simply says thank you

and they go into senior year this unquestionable team with a legacy to uphold. dex works through plays without hesitation, showing the baby frogs (juniors, they call them) the ropes and silently making the team a warm space, while nursey inspires and comforts and corrects the little things, and they run the haus in the same way-- nursey planning movie nights and board game nights (now that holster and jack are gone and there are strict rules in place) and dex is usually there in the kitchen, cooking and baking and willing to listen to anything the players have to say, and if you asked any of the baby frogs what they thought of dex and nursey’s relationship, they would’ve said that their captains had been friends for years (and maybe, in the right light, that would be true)

how they get together at this point is not important. whichever one didn’t catch feelings sophomore year found them, sometime afterwards, behind a box of forgotten things, forgotten only because they’d been there quietly for so long that no one had every thought to question their presence, and so, in senior year, when they are both in places where things are no longer fragile, where “broken” is a word easily thrown away, they come together with little fanfare.

over a pie, one softly raining afternoon, or in a slipped-into-snowbank on the way back from practice, or in the library over an open textbook or between laughter or in the moments before sleep embraces them on a roadie, or any number of other things.

that is not the most important part-- it’s important, of course, but not the most-- the most important part is that they were, are, together long before any moment like that occurs. because they both learned, grew from the volatile, fragile people they arrived as. grew because they forced each other, became better, stronger, with the guidance and comfort and assurance the other offered. because that is what makes a partnership, a bond of the souls, a love like theirs. it is not being perfect, not even being perfect for one another, but being there and willing to grow.

maybe it’s samwell-- got your back-- that puts them in a place where this kind of process can work. maybe it’s the nature of college itself. maybe it would’ve happened regardless of where they were. but it happened, and it’s wonderful, and that’s what matters.

[alwaysgcld]

(i am so late with this but i loved learning more about malia and henry so much i wanted to do it too)

The Basics

Name? Benigno Jae Park

Age? 29 30

Approximate height? 6’3”

Hair color? Black

Eye color? Dark Brown

Do they speak with an accent? No

Where are they from? Kingston, New York

Where are they now? Stardew Valley

Backstory

Who are their parents? Minerva Park, Nico Park (née Monti)

What is their earliest memory? Watching his father cook breakfast as he hums along to music he has playing. That is until his mother enters, going for her morning cup of coffee. His father swoops her into his arms, dancing her around the kitchen as he serenades her to Queen’s Somebody to Love. When his mother has to leave, his father scoops Ben up and dances him around instead.

What did they want to be when they grew up? As a young child, a chef like his father. When he got a bit older however, he realized he wanted to be a doctor. 

What did/do their parents want them to be? Both of his parents always just wished for him to be happy. His father had really hoped he would end up finding happiness with working in the family restaurant as a chef or in management.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? Brothers or sisters? An only child.

Do they have or have they ever had children? How many? No children

Do they or have ever had a significant other? Are they still with them? Why? Why not? Yes, he has had two serious relationships in his life. His first one was in high school with a boy named Andy. It lasted for a little over a year, and ended once Ben found out Andy was cheating on him. His second one started when he was in his first year of medical school. His relationship with Perri lasted for five years, and during the last year of their relationship they were engaged. The breakup was a mutual decision. Even so, he was really broken up about it for awhile. He is currently single.

Up until now, what’s the most noteworthy thing they’ve done? To them? To the people around them? He doesn’t think he’s done anything noteworthy yet. But to his family disagrees. He became a doctor at such a young age and managed to graduate top of his class even though he was juggling so many things in his personal life at the time.

Tastes

What’s your character’s favourite colour? Green, specifically darker shades like a pine green. Maroon or like amber is probably his second favorite.

Do they/would they choose to wear a scent? What would it be? Something with notes of sandalwood. Maybe has a specific cologne he wears for work (a lighter scent)  and one for other occasions.

Do they care about what things look like? All things, or only some? To a certain extent. He likes to look well put together, but it’s not something he worries entirely about.

What’s their favorite ice cream flavor? Anything with chocolate and/or strawberries, honestly. Also, has a special love for mint chocolate chip.

Are they a tea, or coffee drinker? Or soft drinks, or do they drink a lot of alcohol? What kind? He enjoys tea and coffee, but prefers coffee. Not a huge fan of soda; only really drinks like coke when he’s eating something spicy. Drinks any kind of alcohol. Wine and whiskey are his go to options.

What kind of books do they read? What TV shows and movies do they watch? Mostly reads mystery or true crime novels thanks to his mom. If it seems interesting, he’ll read anything. As for TV shows and movies, he prefers fast paced ones with lots of action. Not a huge fan of shows with lots of drama, like relationship drama, but does watch like soap operas with his nonnina, aunts, and uncles/Korean dramas with his aunts and cousins since it lets him have quality time with them. Plus he gives excellent commentary.

What kind of music do they like? Do they like music at all? Better question would be what kind of music does he not like? That would be country. Ben loves music.

If they were about to die, what would they have as their last meal? Please do not torture him by asking this. He’d never be able to pick a single dish.

Are they hedonistic? In all cases? Or does practicality sometimes/always/often win out? No, he’s more eudaimonistic/eudaemonistic if anything.

Do they have any philias or phobias? Mildly claustrophobic.

Morals, Beliefs, and Faith

Do they have an internal or an external moral code? Sort of a mix, but primarily internal.

To what extent are their actions dictated by this code? Wholly.

Do they believe in a God or Gods/Goddesses/Higher being of some description? He neither has faith nor disbelief in a God or Gods/Goddesses. In other words, he’s agnostic.

Are they superstitious? To a degree.

Do they believe in an afterlife? If so, what’s it like? He believes in an afterlife, yes. He has no idea what’s it like though.

Do they have any specific beliefs that manifest obviously? No.

Are the respectful of the beliefs of others? To what extent? Yes, he is extremely respectful of other people’s belief. Unless they try to force him or anyone else to share said beliefs. Or use them to justify their awful behavior.

Have they ever had to stand up to criticism for being religious? Or not being religious? Well, sort of in a way? It’s a long story.

Would they be more likely to act for the good of the one, or the good of the many? The good of the many.

Relationships

Do they make friends easily? Yes! 

Do they have a best friend? He’s the sort of person who has more than one best friend, that’s he acquired during different portion of his life. There’s Mari (his childhood best friend), Oz (his soccer best friend), Emery (college best friend), and Max (med school best friend). Hasn’t gotten that close to anyone in the valley to consider them a best friend.

Can they get people to do what they want them to? If so, how? Yes. Usually just by being his charming self.

Do they have a lot of romantic relationships? Serious, or short term? Hasn’t had any romantic relationships since moving to the valley. He’s serious when it comes to dating, not one for short term stuff.

Do they fall in and out of love easily? No, it takes time for him to fall in love. Even more for him to fall out.

Do strangers and acquaintances actually like them when they meet? Yeah. I mean, what isn’t there to like?

Do they have a network? Yes! 

What is their relationship like with their family? Great! He’s close with his parents and his extended family on both sides. Even the part of his mother family that lives in Korea. Not so much with the family members that live in Italy from his father’s side. Not anymore, at least. 

Are they still in touch with non-family people they were in touch with a year ago? Five years? Ten? More? Yes. He’s known his oldest friend for at 20 years. It’s hard to get rid of him once you’ve made it to a certain of level of friendship with him.

Do they like children? Do they want children of their own? He loves children. He considered being a pediatrician at one point because of that. Definitely plans to have children of his own one day. 

Physical Appearance

How does this character dress? How would they choose to dress, if all options were open to them? King of business causal. Tries to stick with slacks when working at the clinic, otherwise he’s wearing a nice pair of jeans. Seems to always have his clothes layered go to is a pull-over sweater over a button-down shirt. All of his clothes are rather nice. Not exactly high-end, but clearly money well spent. See visuals for his style here.

Do they have any tattoos? What do they mean? Has a tattoo of a larkspur on his left hip. He got the tattoo when he was eighteen with a few friends; each of them got a tattoo of birth month flower. In general, larkspurs denote love, affection, and ardent attachment.

Do they have piercings? How many? No piercings.

Do they have scars? Where did they come from? Has a scar on his right temple from an altercation when he was a teen. And another one on the lower right part of his abdomen from when he had his appendix taken out. Both are faint.

Do they alter their appearance in some way on a regular basis? No. 

Is there something they’d choose to change about their appearance if they had the opportunity to? No, not really.

Is there something about their appearance they’re particularly proud of/happy with? His smile.

Objectively, are they physically attractive? Fairly plain? Unattractive? OP says hell yeah, have you seen him??

Do they have an accurate mental picture and opinion of their physical appearance? Yes.

How much time do they spend thinking about their physical appearance? Not as much as one might assume.

General Knowledge

Can they navigate their own local area without getting lost? To what degree? Yes, he is familiar with the town and all the surrounding area at this point of the valley.

Do they know who the top politician or monarch is where they live? What about elsewhere? Yes, he is aware both of where he lives and elsewhere. 

Do they know if/where there are any major conflicts going on right now? Yes.

Do they know the composition of water? Of course.

Do they know how to eat a pomegranate? Yes.

Are they good with the technology available to them? Average? Completely hopeless? Very good with technology.

Could they paint a house? Without making a mess of it? Yes.

Could they bake a cake? Would you eat it if they did? Yes and yes.

Do they know how to perform basic maintenance on the common mode of transportation? Knows how to perform basic maintenance on bicycles and cars.

Do they know the price of a loaf of bread? Yes.

Specific Knowledge

Do they have a specific qualification in a narrow area? Yes, he has a B.S. degree in psychology and a medical degree.

Is there something they do or know exceptionally well that most other people don’t? Aside from the doctor stuff? He wouldn’t say he does or knows anything exceptionally more than most people.

Do people often comment on a particular skill or area of knowledge to this character? Behind their back? Usually gets surprised reactions when people find out how many additional skills he has on-top of being a doctor. He’s sure people talk about it behind his back, but he doesn’t care enough to find out to what extent.  

Is there an area this character could be considered top of their field or a genius in? By no means considers himself a genius of his field compared to others. He was the top of his class in medical school though.

Have they deliberately sought to gain knowledge in a specific area? If so, why? Yes. He majored in psychology since he was interested to learn more about how the brain works. Minored in dance for fun. And of course pursued a medical degree because he wanted to become a doctor to help people.

Do they speak more than one language? More than two? Why? Is fluent in several languages: English, Italian (due to his father’s side), Korean (due to mother’s side), and Spanish (from taking it in high school since they wouldn’t let him take Italian plus Mari taught him it). Vaguely knows Greek and Latin from medical lingo. Latin is a tad bit stronger because father’s side of family are Catholics.

Does their cultural background effect what they would be expected to know? Yes?

Have they ever been publicly acknowledged for being well-versed in something? Yes, he was valedictorian of his high school class and was acknowledged as top student during his med school graduation.

Have they ever been bullied for knowing a lot about something? No.

Do they actively seek new knowledge, or let it come to them naturally? A mix of both. He enjoys learning more, he’s not picky on how that new knowledge enters his life.

Miscellaneous

What did they have for breakfast this morning? An omelette with a side of fruit.

What ridiculous belief/s did they have as a child? That birds were having an important meeting when they sat in groups on telephone wires.

Do they like marshmallows? Loves marshmallows! Especially toasted ones.

Do they sleep on their side, front, or back? Tends to start off on his side, and end up on his front or back at some point while sleeping.

Do they work better with sound or silence? With sound.

Do they have a strange obsession with something minor? Looping back to the last question, he can’t stand silence. So he always has to have some sort of sound going on, whether it’s a conversation with someone, an audiobook, or music. If none of those are readily available, he will make his own sound which is how he got the habit of singing to himself so often.

Do they like art? He loves art! His college best friend was an art major and he has several of his pieces hanging up in the clinic and his apartment.

How fast can they run? Remarkably fast. 

Do they prefer to sit on the floor or on a chair? Honestly, will sit anywhere given the chance, he is not picky.

What do they want, right now? There isn’t really anything that he wants at the moment. He’s content. At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself.

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 40 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 40

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

The next morning, Nikki woke up before (Y/n) a devilish smirk playing on his lips as he made his way under the covers and found himself between her legs. Gently spreading her legs apart he kissed at her inner thighs leading up to her folds before licking a long stripe against them. He let out a small sigh and smiled against her as he pressed his fingers into her. He paused when he felt her squirm wanting to keep her asleep as he played with her. He wanted her to feel good. And she felt perfect in his arms. Felt perfect around her fingers. Her missed the feel of her, missed the way she tasted against his tongue.

His lips enclosed around her clit as his fingers curled against her g-spot. He slurped and sucked against her smiling at the way her body responded to his touch. He felt happy with her, and this time he wasn’t going to let anything ruin it.

“Nikki…” (Y/n) moaned in her sleep. “Ooooo…” Her hips bucked in her sleep.

Nikki gave a low chuckle as he thrust his fingers faster into her. His lips sucking on her clit as he moaned at the fell of her. He loved making her squirm, loved the memories of her withering against his touch. Her hands found her way down to his hair, giving it a light tug. He couldn’t help the moan against her then. He might have realized he liked having his hair pulled.

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he whispered against her as he thrust his fingers faster into her. It didn’t take long before she opened her eyes and came all over his fingers.

“Shit!” She gasped. “Nik?”

“Morning,” he kissed his way up her body before giving her a searing kiss. “What a way to wake up huh?”

“That was amazing.” She breathed. She kissed him then sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

“What the fuck,” Nikki threw the covers off them and got dressed in his boxers and robe rushing down the stairs.

“Morning!” Tommy waved the smoke out of his face. “Sorry tried to make breakfast but…”

Nikki sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Thanks man.” Nikki opened the patio door to let the smoke out. (Y/n) came running downstairs in her shorts and shirt that she hadn’t been wearing just a few minutes before.

“What’s going…” She stopped when she saw Tommy trying to cook. “Oh.”

“Tommy decided he was going to be nice and cook breakfast,” Nikki walked to her and rubbed her shoulders. “I couldn’t let him just leave the way he was… he could have ended up hurt.” he whispered to her.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed. “Need any help t-bone?”

“Yeah…” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re always the better cook in the family besides Ma,” he smiled at her. “Sorry for ruining your time with Nik… I just… I didn’t think my marriage would fall apart.”

“Well Tommy, you were caught with a porn star. How did you think that was gonna end? A magical threesome with two hot blondes?” (Y/n) asked, taking over cooking. “Heather has more self respect than you give her credit for…”

Tommy bowed his head and nodded, “Yeah… but maybe I rushed things and we just…. weren’t right I mean I was always touring… she was always filming… it never seemed like the right time you know?”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?” (Y/n) asked, watching her brother.

“I do or at least I think I did in my own way?” Tommy sighed and sat at one of the stool on the Island. Nikki had gone upstairs to take a quick shower and get dressed. “How are you guys doing?”

“We’re fantastic.” She said. Tommy watched her smile. He could see the old her coming back through. “Glad I picked LA over London.”

“They were going to send you to London?” Tommy looked at her as Ziggy scratched at the patio door and whined.

“Yeah,” She went to the patio and let Ziggy out. “My options were retain my pay and position and go to London, or pay cut and such and stay in LA.” She smiled as she watched Ziggy chase a butterfly around the yard. “I picked LA.”

“You took a pay cut?” he shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“I also gave up Tom Petty and a couple of my New York bands.” She shrugged. “LA is more of my place. There’s more here that I want to be around.”

Tommy glared at Nikki as he came down the stairs. In Tommy’s mind, Nikki was doing it again. He was holding his sister back from being great. He held his tongue as he watched Nikki and (Y/n) kiss.

“Okay, who’s hungry?” (Y/n) asked, dishing out the food. “I’m gonna do some laundry before I have to go to work today.”

“I had a bit of an appetizer but I could eat,” Nikki said as he kissed her smirking. Tommy closed his eyes for a second, groaning.

“So...you two seem happy…” Tommy said, wanting so bad to scream at Nikki and tell him he ruined his sister. But that had worked so well in the past.

“I hope so, because I am not letting her go this time,” Nikki grabbed the plate (Y/n) prepared for Tommy. “Eat up man we have rehearsal today and a meeting with the reps,” Nikki sighed.

“Oh, that’s so much fun.” Tommy groaned.

“Well, I only have one meeting today, so I’ll be home well before you guys.” (Y/n) told them. “So seriously, laundry needs put someplace I can get it and anything you need from the store add to the list on the fridge, okay?”

“You got it sweet girl,” he kissed the top of her head. “I think most of the clothes I need I put in the laundry room so you’re covered there. List looks good anything I think of I can pick up on the way home?”

“Sounds good.” (Y/n) looked at Tommy. “I saw you had a bag when you came in. Why don’t you go get it and I’ll make your clothes smell good.” She smiled at him.

“Thanks pipsqueak,” he said and smiled at her. Walking to the guest bedroom, he noticed a black notebook on the floor by the nightstand. He picked it up and opened to the first page, reading some of the words scribbled on it.

I don’t make everyone happy…..but it’s ok….it’s ok

I’ve been through this before

It’s nothing new…nothing new

“They’re song lyrics.” Tommy mumbled to himself as he flipped through the pages. Not everything was something that he would be into, but there were quite a few good songs. Looking around, he slid the notebook into his inside jacket pocket before taking the bag to (Y/n).

“Thanks fuckface.” (Y/n) teased. “You’ll be smelling good before you know it.”

“Ok, we gotta go,” Nikki sighed and pulled (Y/n) in for a deep kiss, his hands rubbing at her sides.

“I’ll miss you.” She kissed him back .”You boys have fun, okay!”

“Let’s go Tom,” Nikki sighed as he grabbed his keys with Tommy following behind.

************

Weeks later.

Nikki sighed as Tommy once again interrupted a night between (Y/n) and himself. Nikki could tell that (Y/n) was getting frustrated with her brother. Neither of them knew that he was doing it on purpose.

“Tommy, why don’t we go find you an apartment?” (Y/n) asked. “Some nice bachelor pad where you can set up your DJ equipment.”

“But living here is great isn’t it?” Tommy smiled. “I’m learning to cook and we are having fun aren’t we?” Tommy smiled. He knew his sister seemed happy, but in the back of his mind Nikki held her back from being a great producer.  

“Tommy…” Nikki sighed, “you know i love you. You’re my best friends… but dude (Y/N) and I… we need our space man.”

“I thought you two were taking things slow. And I stay in the bedroom most of the time anyway.” Tommy shrugged. (Y/n) sighed.

“I’m going outside and reading.” She grabbed the leather bound journal. “And if anyone sees a small, black notebook, please tell me.”

“It’s still missing?” Nikki asked. “I’ll keep an eye on it babe.”

“You’re missing a notebook,” Tommy looked down at his shoes.

“Yeah. It had some things I was working on. It’s not anything important, I just can’t seem to find it and I looked everywhere.” She sighed. “Well, I’ll be outside.” She headed out to the hammock they had set up and relaxed into it. Ziggy ran out and laid on the ground by it.

“We are going slow Tommy trust me painfully slow. It took me six months to just have sex with her again ok… and it almost cost me how slow I was going…”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked. “What did it almost cost you? Is her being here making you…” He didn’t need to say it.

“No… I mean…. not like that… I think she would have left me if I didn’t take her to bed and… well….” Nikki sighed. “I just really didn’t want to fuck it up Tom and I still don’t.”

“I don’t think she would’ve left you. She’s too hung up on you,” Tommy rolled his eyes, which Nikki missed.

“I’m hung up on her too… I’m staying clean and I feel good… I feel happy.” Nikki smiled and pulled out the old engagement ring. “I’ve been thinking about this but… I’m going to wait until I know for sure that we’re ok.”

“I…” Tommy looked at the ring. “Are you sure that’s a good idea Nik?”

“I’m not going to ask her now,” Nikki shook his head. “I kind of have is as a reminder to slow down and make sure she’s happy, you know.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tommy said. “If she’s happy, why is she out there crying?”

“What?” NIkki opened the patio door and rushed out towards (Y/n).

****

While they were talking…

(Y/n) had been reading the journal slowly over the past few months. She had come to a page that was marked with dried water spots and marked out words. She started to read it.

The day you came into my life was the day I realized I had a spot missing in my heart that you could fill. You showed up after the show because your siblings ditched you, and I think I fell in love with you on the spot. I had my demons to fight, but you provided me with the right weapons to do it. I just wish I would’ve realized it soon. I let those demons turn me into something that would scare even me, yet you stood by me until it became too much. I wish that I could take away the pain I caused you, turn it around on myself.

But with those words, I, Nikki Sixx, take (Y/n) Bass to be my wife, in sickness and in health until death do us part.

(Y/n) stared at the journal, rereading his words over and over again. She wiped at her eyes as she started to cry. She could feel his words in her heart. She could feel it deep in her soul and she wanted nothing more than to hold him and keep the demons away.

She didn’t realize that they saw her crying until Nikki and Tommy rushed out to her.

“What did he do this time (Y/n)?” Tommy muttered as he held his sister close. She looked down at the journal.

“Nikki…” She whispered. “I...were those…” She couldn’t contain her emotions again. “I’m so sorry I left you…”

“I wrote it in rehab,” Nikki muttered, he looked at Tommy and shook his head. “Can’t believe I was nice and let you stay here.” he looked down. “Think what you want about me Tommy, I gotta get to the studio.”

“Nikki wait…” (Y/n) went after him.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Tommy grabbed her hand. “Why were you crying? Was it because he’s holding you back. I mean you could be an awesome producer in London and you stayed here?”

“What? No. He’s not holding me back.” (Y/n) stared at her brother. “He wrote his wedding vows in here.” She held the journal to her chest. “I need to talk to him.” She went to run again, but Tommy held her arm a little too tight. “Let go of me!”

“He’s only going to hurt you again (Y/n)....” Tommy shook his head. (Y/n) pulled and eventually got out of his hold, but it caused her to lose her balance and fall, the journal flying away from her.

“Ow!” She called out as her tailbone hit the hard patio.

“(Y/n)!” Nikki called as he saw her fall, “What the fuck did you do Tommy? Did you hit her again?” Nikki pulled (Y/n) up gently and held her behind him. “You know what, you can go ahead and just pack up and go…. Why the hell did I help you? All you’re doing is driving that wedge between us and I’m never going to be good enough for (Y/n) in your eyes but you know what you can fuck off!”

“I didn’t hit her!” Tommy yelled. Nikki looked at (Y/n)’s arm, there was fingerprints on there. “I swear I didn’t hit her!”

“Tommy, just go.” (Y/n) whispered. “Please. I’m happy here. He’s not holding me back. Do you want me to go back to New York? Do you want me to kill myself? Is that what you want?”

“No… that’s… (Y/n) I’m…” Tommy looked at Nikki and (Y/n) and sighed. He nodded and walked away.

“(Y/n) you ok? I’m going to cancel my meeting,” He said and caressed her cheek.

“You...you don’t have to.” She whispered. “I’m sorry.” She was always apologizing for things Tommy did. When they were growing up, she got in trouble for things he did, but she didn’t want him to get in trouble so she just took it.

“Sweet girl, stop apologizing for his fuck ups,” he whispered and held her close. “I need to call the label and have them reschedule and I’ll call Mick over. He hasn’t seen you in awhile.” (Y/n) nodded.

“I got emotional over your vows.” She whispered. “I wish I could find that notebook. I wrote mine in there.” She sighed and headed inside. It probably got lost in the move. She got some ice and put on her arm to deal with the marks Tommy had left on her wrist.

“I can call Vanessa over and she can help you for a bit while I deal with the label crap?” Nikki shook his head. “Do you think he’s using again?”

“I think more of the Jim, Jack, and Jose variety, not drugs.” (Y/n) told him.

Nikki sighed and closed his eyes. This was another think he failed at. He failed his best friend. Closing his eyes he took a slow deep breath and remembered what he was fighting for. “I’m going to call Vanessa,” Nikki muttered as he led her inside and grabbed the phone.

*************

That night Nikki sat in his home recording studio strumming on his bass. He had taken his special bass from the case and began playing it. He wasn’t sure what song he was playing but the beat just came to him. He grabbed his notebook and began scribbling. He put on his headphones and tuned the bass. Pressing the button he just began strumming and sighed. He wasn’t sure what to do anymore. His friend was spiraling and he was sure that (Y/n) was blaming him for her brother’s spiral.  

There was a soft knock on the studio door then.

“Nikki?” (Y/n)’s soft voice whispered. “Can you come outside for a minute?”

Nikki took of his headphones and put the bass down walking out of the small studio, “Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah. I just...I wanted to do something for us.” She smiled at him. “Come with me.” She took his hand and led him out to the backyard. Out there, she had attached a white sheet to the side of the house. She had went out with Vanessa and rented a projector, and had a movie ready to play on it. She had set up the lounge chairs and put a bucket between them with bottled smoothies, some juice, waters, and there was popcorn. “Surprise.”

“Sweet girl what is all this?” he smiled at her holding her close.

“I wanted to make it up to you, with everything that happened today.” She told him. “And I want you to know that Tommy’s drinking isn’t your fault. Him being him is not your fault. The only person you need to take care of is you. Not him, not me. Okay?” She looked up into his eyes. “And I don’t think you’re holding me back. I don’t think any of that mean stuff my brother was saying. I’m happy being here, right here with you.”

“(Y/n)...” Nikki smiled at her. “OK, so what is the feature for tonight?”

“Well, you have a choice.” She laughed a little. “I got Blue Brothers and A Hard Day’s Night. I wanted something musical and not really in an Elvis mood tonight.” She laughed a little.

“Hard Day’s Night sounds good,” Nikki smiled and led her to the area she laid out for them to sit. “Where’s Ziggy?” He ran out then, looking freshly groomed with a new bandana around his neck.

“Vanessa and me were busy while you and Mick were talking.” (Y/n) said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“He smells good,” Nikki laughed. “Thank you,” he leaned in a kissed her. She kissed him back tenderly before going to start the movie for them. She settled in her chair as Nikki got his. Ziggy jumped up and laid on her legs, keeping them warm for her. She laughed a little.

“Good boy.” She scratched his ears. The marks were bruises on her arms, but they would fade quick. At least she hoped they would.

The next day, Nikki woke up outside with (Y/n) and Ziggy curled up close to him. They had pushed their chairs close together during their double feature so they could stay close. He groaned and stretched softly while moving away careful not to wake her as he chuckled at how beautiful she looked. He had a small idea as he went inside and grabbed a small camera. Winding the film up he knelt down and took a picture of (Y/n) and Ziggy curled up. (Y/n) moved a little in her sleep and Ziggy adjusted his head, but they slept on.

And they would’ve stayed asleep if a car alarm hadn’t gone off, making (Y/n) jump awake, which, in turn, woke up Ziggy.

“What? What?” (Y/n) asked, looking around. “What’s so funny Mr. Sixx?” She yawned as she saw Nikki laughing.

“You looked so beautiful,” he reached over and brushed her hair out of her face. “So, I have a free day today. We can pack up some things and take Ziggy out to Santa Monica.”  

“That sounds great.” She leaned up and kissed him. “I can’t believe we fell asleep outside.”

“There is a first for everything,” he said and smiled. “Come on, let’s get ready for a good day.”

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function @nikkisixxwiththebass @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @jayprettymuchomw @charlyallise @you-know-im-a-dreamer @sweet-dreams-on-butterfly-wings @estxxmotley @arianareirg @the-normal-potato @nikki-sixxtynine @jjjjjjjoshdun @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @stella20131991 @tarahell @wowilovenikkisixx @i-want-to-shoot-myself @motleycrueee @sams-serialkiller-fetish @getbackhonkycatt @are-you-reddie54321 @flamencodiva @lesliethegroupie @deacyduck @scarecrowmax

Nikki Sixx Tags:  @daisystuffsstuff @unknownoblivion @deakysblueoutfit

Too Young to Fall in Love Tags: @kingbouji3 @leximus98 @thekidbakerinthetardis @crystalbaby12 @shawnsstxtches @knockemdeadgirl @deansgirl1993

[kathyprior4200]

Dragon Ball Characters as Teachers / An In Depth Look at the 12 Universes

Goku: Teaches martial arts and provides free lunches for his students every day.

 Vegeta: Etiquette for addressing royalty.

 Gohan: Math, martial arts, and Saiyan culture. Wrote a book in a later age.

 Trunks: Teaches sword fighting, justice studies and the pros and cons of time travel.

Tien: Teaches the New Crane School with their martial arts styles

 Krillin: Teaches the New Turtle School with their martial arts styles

 Frieza: Monarchy and world conquering studies.

 Hit: History of assassins and time breakers

 Ginyu Force: Dance classes and learning poses. Also offers gymnastics and yoga.

 Piccolo: Spiritual studies, meditation, and perseverance.

 Bulma: Engineering, science, and the autonomy of capsules

 Chi-Chi: Home Economics, team teaches with Videl

  Master Roshi: Pornography studies, Kamehameha technique and his own version of anatomy

 Broly: Fighting techniques, the geography and life on Vampa…KILL KAKAROT!...that was his other older self, we’re not doing that…

 Caulifla and Kale: Fusion techniques and women in Saiyan history

 Cabba: Universe 6 history and the dynamics of a student/teacher relationship

 Cell: How to absorb others and become the perfect being. Also offers a course on bug and reptile studies.

 Majin Buu team teaches with Hercule: Wrestling techniques, how to become a champion, and how to enjoy the most candy. Bring pets and chocolate for extra credit.

 Android 21: Counseling and addiction course

 Beerus and Whis: A divine cooking course, learn how to make your favorite dishes from around the world. All students are required to bring pudding and meals to professor Beerus, unless they want the Earth to be destroyed.

 Jaco: Police duties and the history of the Galactic Patrol

 Zamasu and Goku Black: religious studies and the ugliness of humanity

 Jiren and Toppo: Fighting for justice across the realms. Strength is absolute.

 Baby: Tuffle technology and the science of possession

Turles and Bojack: How to be space pirates and colonize other worlds. Learn about the fruits from the Tree of Might and learn how to grow your own.

 Zeno Destruction Group: Team teaching, featuring Hearts as the head teacher. Teaches the tyranny of oppressive forces (Zeno) and how to make the world fit your own standards.

 Fu: Traveling to the past and future to gather energy. How to bring warriors together to fit your purposes. Have warriors fight each other and learn about science at the same time.

 Dabura: Demonology studies and the world of the Demons. Extra article: “My surprisingly good life in heaven”

 Pilaf: Rule the universe, gain wealth, and order your lackeys around! All the steps you need to make the universe yours!

 Kami and Dende: Namekian studies and the perils of releasing your evil self

King Piccolo: Rule setting, releasing criminals and living the good life. Learn about Namekian reproduction and how handy minions can be.

 Raditz: Saiyan history and world colonization.

 Yamcha: Desert living, thievery, and baseball studies. Win a baseball game for extra credit. Learn the Wolf Fang Fist and how to survive  when fighting Saibamen.

 Korin: Grow your own Senzu beans

 Shenron and Porunga: History of the Dragon Balls and why one should always be careful what they wish for

 Android 17: Environmental studies and how to be a park ranger

Android 18: Android physiology and how to raise a strong child

   U1 1st

U12 2nd

U5 3rd

U8 4th

U11 5th

U2 6th

U3 7th

U10 8th

U4 9th

U7 10th

U6 11th

U9 12th

  NEW! Travel abroad to other universes and learn their values.

 Universe 1: “We are one.”

With the symbol of the wise owl, this universe has the highest mortal level (harmony) of all the universes. Meet Iwan, the god of Destruction, Awamo the Angel and Anat, the Supreme Kai. Our universe has a vast collection of books and tablets filled with knowledge from ancient to modern times. Learn the secrets of true harmony and the ways to hinder violence and bias. Our Universe is closest to the divine, so you may get a chance to interact with the Grand Priest and even Zeno-sama. Our Supreme Kai/Core Persons are the most organized in all the universes.

 Universe 2: “Love is always in the air!”

The symbol of this universe is the eye of Horus, representing our love for Egyptian mythology as well as harmony. Meet the beautiful Goddess of Destruction Jerez and her angel attendant Sour and the Supreme Kai, Pell. Learn about our lovely warriors of our universe, featuring our trio of magical girls and guys. Ribranne explains the art of her transformations and her fellow warriors have graciously agreed to perform dances for tours! If you ever want to find true love, need relationship advice, or are plain lonely, our people will give you all the support you need. (Also, don’t miss our Valentine’s Day extravaganza and Sailor Moon movie night.)

 Universe 3: “Fix it if it’s broken; if not, improve it!”

Welcome to the most technologically advanced universe in the galaxy. Mule, the God of Destruction explains the workings of his robotic suit. Camparri is the angel and the Supreme Kai is Ka. Meet Castopersa, a member of our police force and a participant in the Tournament of Power. We make all sorts of efficient gadgets that would leave the technology-oriented Tuffles speechless! Feel free to sign up for our science studies program…engineers are always in high demand.

 Universe 4: “Conspiracies and secrets galore…hide them no more…in Universe 4!”

Our people will do anything to emerge victorious, consequences need not apply. Quitela is our God of Destruction, Cognac our Angel, and Kuru our Supreme Kai. Join us for an exclusive interview with our warriors, including the seductive Caway, Damon, our shrinking member, Gamisaras who can turn invisible, and many more. Have something to sell on the Black Market? Are you secretly plotting to influence the world? We got you covered, 100% guaranteed. Just come on over to our Universe and see the amazing things we have to offer!

 Universe 5: “Balance is key.”

Our Universe represents Ying and Yang at its finest. As a Universe with one of the highest mortal levels, we are committed to being the best we can be. Arak is our God of Destruction, interests include peaceful meditation. Cukatail is our Angel and Ogma is our Supreme Kai.

 Universe 6: “Giving up is never an option.”

Champa is our God of Destruction, Vados is our Angel, and Fuwa is our Supreme Kai. In our Universe, you’ll get to experience an alternate world where the Saiyans become protectors and Planet Salada still survives. You may get a chance to encounter His Majesty King Salada (who was better than King Vegeta ever was). Meet our Saiyan fighters Cabba, Caulifla and Kale as they share their stories from Salada. Hit is our legendary time breaker and assassin. Frost can be a cheater, but he’s still a great fighter. We also have robot fighters, but be sure to be nice.

Update: Our Earth has been restored thanks to the God of Universe 7. Now let’s hope that the mortals there don’t get into fights again.

 Universe 7: “This land was made for you and me.”

Beerus is our God of Destruction, Whis is our Angel and Shin is our Supreme Kai. Here is where the events of Dragon Ball Z and Super took place. Also, we are the Universe that won the Tournament of Power due to our teamwork and determination. Meet Goku, Vegeta, Androids 17 and 18, Krillin, Gohan, Piccolo, and many other great individuals. (But don’t meet Frieza, he’s evil).

  Universe 8: “Dignity in Diligence.”

Work hard, play hard. No other Universe puts in more effort than ours! Liqueur is our fox God of Destruction, Korn is our Angel and Iru, our Supreme Kai.

 Universe 9: “Our bark is worse than our bite!”

Our Universe may be barren, but that doesn’t stop us from surviving! Sidra is our God of Destruction, Mojito is our Angel and Ro is our Supreme Kai. Bergamo, Basil, and Lavender are three warrior wolves and our finest fighters. Weakness is not tolerated here, so survival of the fittest does apply. Here we forge brotherly bonds to help us survive the harsh and violent climate we live in.

 Universe 10: “Muscle is Might!”

Come visit our marvelous Universe and meet the strongest fighters in all the realms. Rumush is our pink elephant God of Destruction, Kusu is our Angel and Gowasu is our Supreme Kai. (Be sure to bring him tea if you see him. And don’t mention the traitor Zamasu). If you think you have what it takes, join our boot camp and see what our fighters face each day.

 Universe 11: “Strength is absolute, but Justice is for all.”

Justice is more than just a concept. Here in Universe 11, we believe that everyone deserves equal treatment…and the proper punishment when necessary. Vermond is our clown God of Destruction (who has his own group of harem woman), Marcarita is our Angel, and Cae is our Supreme Kai. Come join us for an exclusive interview with the Pride Troopers and the strongest mortal in the world: Jiren!

   Universe 12: “Be the Ultimate Being.”

Meet Giin, our aquatic God of Destruction, but be sure to treat him with respect. Martinu is our Angel and Ag is our Supreme Kai. Learn about a mortal who used a time machine from one of our civilizations. Our Universe has the second highest mortal rating…and you won’t be disappointed. Travel and stay in our futuristic Atlantis city, visit our oceans and learn aquatic techniques to cleanse your mind, body, and soul. If Giin decides to be ruthless and conquer other worlds, don’t take it personally.

[marcoacesabo]

Pizza Pie of My Eye

For the Anon that asked for  “Pizzeria worker Ace who meets businessmen Marco and Sabo”. I’m so sorry I accidentally deleted the ask when I was trying to press edit.  But here I hope you like it.

Under a read more since it got supper long

When Ace was ten years old he marched down the mountain to Foosha Village intending on asking Makino for manner lessons.  He had it all planned out. He would learn how to properly thank people so he could show Red-Hair Shanks the right amount of respect.

After Sabo dying, Ace realize how grateful he was for the pirate saving his little brother. If he hadn't there would be a very big chance Ace would never have met Luffy, leaving him alone when Sabo was no longer with them. That would have been hell.

Luckily he did have his crybaby brother and it was the only thing keeping him sane those few months where he would turn to his left expecting his best friend’s input in the conversation.  And finding it hollowly empty instead of the bright smile with a missing gap. 

He did not expect to find the lovely barkeep- she was so pretty to him. As a child, he thought she was the prettiest person to ever live- over stress with rush hour. She was running back and forth, attempting to take orders, run the bar and cook at the same time. A boat of merchants had stopped at the village port, a common thing seeing the port charge in little Foosha was much less compared to the one in the city. It wasn’t that far of a walk so they park the ships in the little village and carry everything to the bigger market place.

The men upon that ship were much less understanding of her hurried apologies for being understaffed. They wanted their orders quickly,  making snide comments to hurry.  

 Ace and Luffy had jumped in to help, allowing her to cook the food and run the bar while the two boys waited tables. Yes, they did end up breaking more plates then delivering to tables but it was fast paced and a little fun. 

Luffy got the men to lighten up with his cheerful demeanor and Ace was able to weave and wave through the tables. He never thought being in a bar could be fun, but oddly it was.  Sure some of the men made him want to break their faces but balancing the plates while dodging the various merry making keep him on his toes. 

Once rush ended, Makino had taken them to the side. She gave them a bright smile, a warm thank you (causing Ace’s cheeks to burst red) and a nice little sack of coins for the three hours they help.  

That was the first time anyone gave him money willingly. Ace had been struck in place awe of the coins.  Makino had laughed when he looks lost, gently curving his fingers around the bag as Luffy cheered in the background.  

“You deserve this Ace-chan. You worked very hard.”  She said, eyes soft as the boy staring up at her with still the same amount of awe.  “When you work hard you deserve a reward. I’m really proud of you and Luffy’s work.”

That was also the first time anyone ever said they were proud of him.  When put the coins in the new pirate fund- the old one was stolen during the fire by who he didn’t know but it didn’t feel right without Sabo anyway- and oddly enough these few coins made him feel prouder than the stake he is used to taking by force.

Was it really a surprise he kept coming back?  He returns for his lessons and if those lessons happen to happen after he helps around the bar a little, so what? It was fun, in a weird self-satisfying way when they close up and breath a sigh of relief that the day was down.  

Makino kept giving them sacks of money, which Ace eagerly added to their growing fund.  Oh don’t get him wrong, the two keep up their thieving ways and training but whenever they had a chance they would go down and earn some “honest” money. 

It didn’t hurt that she feed them after hours. Her food was heaven, cooked far better than anything the bandits could offer. Then one night, she made them something he never had before.

“Pizza?”  Ace took a look around the kitchen confuse on what he had to.   “What’s that?”

Makino’s face broke into a wide smile  “It’s my favorite food. I don’t usually make it for the bar since it takes so long but I thought you boy would love to try some. I wanted to teach you how to make it so you can have some whenever you like.”  

Pizza Ace learn was the funniest thing in the world. His first attempts to make the dough spin in the air was a disaster but Makino had been patient. She taught them how to make the sauce, the toppings, and the dough throwing was downright art in her capable hands. Another thing Ace was grateful for.  

No one ever attempted to teach him how to cook before. Maybe if they had, Ace would have found a new passion long ago.  He adores it. The way flavors change when adding just a tad different ingredients? The way Luffy’s and Makino’s face lite up whenever he made something yummy? The simple knowledge that something he created brought people joy?  

It wasn’t long before Ace was also helping in the kitchen, regulars getting custom to his dishes and able to tell the difference in who cooked what.  Of course, Makino was no five-star chef, her food was pleasant but not awe-inspiring.  Still Ace found his cooking was just as pleasant following her instructions, and he had always put a hundred percent into everything he found worthwhile. 

Just as his manners improved, so did his cooking. Over the next few years Ace found just as much joy in cooking then he did in sparing. At some point, Makino’s kitchen became his domain and he somehow had a part-time job with her. 

New dishes were added to the menu, little experiments that Ace took the liberty in creating. Makino places them under “Ace’s Dishes” and he glowed every time she arrived with updated menus, his latest creation under that header.

But his absolute favorite was creating a pizza.   

New toppings, new sauces, new combinations. Everything about it was fun. Luffy certainly appreciated being a test dummy for each one too. His pizzas were even bringing in more customers, having heard the praises from varies sailors in the market place.  

Even Garp, in his few visits, took pleasure chewing down on Ace’s famous pizza...after a brutal training of course. 

Before Ace realize it, he was about to be seventeen the year he was to set out to be a pirate, his childhood dream. And he was conflicted. He wanted to set sail...but he didn’t get as excited as he used to about the idea of his pirate life. Instead, it felt like the days were counting down to doom, and he only had a few more months left of enjoying the simple life he set up. Disregarding the training, the hunting and the muggings he and Luffy contuine. Hey, he needed to keep strong plus it was really fun. He did stop dine and dashing, mostly due to knowing just how it was affecting the establishments. Sea knows he would hunt down anyone who dared to bail on the bill they owe him. 

 Makino, stepping up as a mother figure, took notice quickly. She brought it up one night with both boys eating in the bar after hours.

“Ace-chan, do you really want to be a pirate?”  

Luffy stops eating sensing something was different in the way Ace stiffen up.  “Of course I do, Makino. It’s my dream!”

“Dreams change sweetie, and there is nothing wrong with having your interest shifting. I’ve met adults with finished careers that find they rather be something else. People are allowed to change their mind, it’s part of growing.”  She gave him a soft smile watching the oldest of the boys squirm  “I would never stand in the way of your dreams. If you want to be a pirate then do it, but only if you truly want to”

It’s daunting how she can read him sometimes.

Ace opens then closes his mouth. After a moment he glances down at his hands unable to look at either of them. It’s something he been struggling with for a while, these thoughts of what he wanted in life, truly wanted.  “I promise Sabo I set out at seventeen...”

It sounds like an excuse even to Luffy. He frowns  “Does the idea of  being a pirate not make you happy, Ace?”

“Of course! I want to travel, I want to own a ship but I just..”

Makino place a hand over his  “What do you want Ace?”

“I...want to do what you do.” Waving a hand around the room, his voice gets low as if he is ashamed.  “I like the idea of owning a place like this. Of cooking and serving and making money like this. I want...to sell pizza? But I promise Sabo-”

“Ace does what makes Ace happy, otherwise he wouldn’t be free.” Luffy interrupts sounds oddly confident.  “You promise Sabo we be free. Are you going back on that promise?”

“But I want to sail too...”

“Then you can sell on your ship!” His brother chirps unaware how baffling his idea is.  “We can get you a...floating restaurant! One that belongs to you and only sells Ace’s pizza!”

“A floating pizzeria,” Makino says sounding delighted. “Can’t you just imagine it?”

He could. He really could and Ace realize maybe for the first time in his life that this was what he wanted and which he is allowed to choose for himself, even if it’s not the grand life he always inversion. A simple life on the seas doing what he enjoys.

“Do you think Sabo...would forgive me? For not being a pirate?”

“Oh Ace-chan,” Makino says  “There is nothing to forgive. Sabo-chan would think the same”

“Okay,” Ace says feeling tears peak his eyes but being so darn happy at an overwhelming eased mind. Luffy and Makino smile differently in size but equally warm just the same.  

Using the money from the Dream Fund (rename after Luffy insisted it was no longer the Pirate Fund because it would make Ace sad)  he got a startup tiny ship equipped with everything he needed to bake the pizzas.   

And then he set out to sea chasing a new dream, the two waving him goodbye and eagerness bubbles of excitement in his tummy.  

“Come on, I keep hearing about this place. Just one hour tops! Pops wouldn’t care if we are a little delayed!”  Thatch whine tugging on Marco’s arm  “Please Marco, I need to try it.”

Marco took a deep breath through his nose, trying to ease the frustration his brother was causing.  “For the last time. No, we are not stopping in the middle of the New World Sea just so you can try some stupid pizza, yoi.”

“But we finished the mission. It’s not like we are doing anything important!”

“We have to get back. Two commanders missing could prompt someone to attack Pops.”

“Oh come on, no one is stupid to think they can take Pops, just cause we aren’t there.” Throwing his hands in the air his like the overdramatic little twerp he is Thatch whines in a high tone  “You hate me. That’s why you won’t take me. You just hate me!”

In the last ten minutes of this conversation, Marco has felt his blood pressure rise by the tens.  “Fine! If it gets you to shut up we can stop for pizza. But only for an hour, understand?”

Thatch cheers, hip-bumping Marco off the steering wheel and moving the Mini-Moby to the right once his hand closes around the wooden pieces all in a span of seconds. He’s darn lucky Marco has excellent sea legs and didn’t tumble over, otherwise, Thatch would have his foot up his ass.  “Yes of course. Just want to try the secret sauce. I bet it’s got nothing on my veggie pizza”

Marco rolled his eyes  “Figures you’re only doing this for your self-pride”

Thatch gives him a smile full of teeth  “Pirate.”

Well, that’s a good point the blond figures.  He crossed his arms with a huff “Anything else this..what’s the place call again?”

“Spade Pizza” 

“Right, anything else it’s famous for, or am I just going to waste an hour on something dumb?”

“Besides good food and that it's floating on the sea?”  Thatch shrugs a shoulder, attempting studly. Instantly Marco was on guard realizing this was another he was so determined to get him there.  “The owner is really good looking. I’ve heard most of his customers have proclaimed their love to him just as much as his food.”

 “No matchmaking yoi”

“I-I’m not!”

Marco gives him a look that screams he doesn’t believe him but drops it. The two sail for a few minutes, Marco nearly dozing off, when the pizzeria in question finally comes into view. 

It’s big with varies ports built around it for anchoring ships. The thing is painted in hues of red and black, following a theme of playing cards and fire. There seems to be nearly full, but Thatch snatches the last port before a large vessel gets the chance, giving the men on deck a little shit eating grin when they holler in rage.

Marco doesn’t pay much attention if this turns to a fight Thatch can handle it, instead, he is jumping down to tie their ship to the wood and casually strolling to the entrance. When he pushes the wooden door, he’s hit with a delicious smell as varies workers come and go with different types of food. There are groups scattered around the tables, busy enough that it looks like a full house but not a rush that leaves workers scrambling.

The interior follows the same theme as the outside, and Marco is reminded of varies bars, but more promptly it reminds him of bars he would find in the East Blue. So the owner is from there?

Marco stops before a little stand, a sign with the words “Please wait to be seated” on it.

He looks around the room when a teenager rushes at him, wearing an apron around her waist with the restaurant spade logo.  “Hello sir, welcome to Spade Pizza. How many will it be?”

“Two” 

“Okay,” she picks up some menus from her little stand  “I can sit you at the pizza bar or you can wait for a table? It is about a twenty-minute wait.”

“Bar is fine yoi”

She leads him to his seat, weaving and waving around tables of people having a nice lunch. Marco is surprised to find pirates, civilians, and marines alike. This place must be a neutral area, meaning someone strong had to be here to keep it that way. 

He makes a mental note to report it back to Pops. Marco isn’t comfortable with someone so strong so close to their territories nor with such a successful business either.. There is a reason he is in charge of all the business matters for the Moby Dick.

“Here you are. Your server will over in a moment”  She says waving at the two stoles which she places the menus in front of.  It’s right at the edge of the bar, on near the wall and another next to a bright long red-haired man.

“Thank you yoi” She nods and scurries away back to the front. Sitting down Marco in the chair near the wall glances out of the corner of his eye at the obvious wig the man is wearing. Oh, it looks natural but he can spot a disguise a mile away.  Question is why would this stranger be in disguise?

Did he find his mysterious strong enforcer already? 

The man reaches up threading his fingers through his wig-hair almost nervously, smoothing it out with a sigh. He mumbles under his breath but Marco catches it due to his fruit entrancing his hearing  “Okay be cool. Be cool. Sabo be cool. When he comes over, don’t you dare mess it up. Just ask for his den den mushi.”

Sabo huh? Interesting name. Where has Marco heard that-

“Hi, my name is Ace and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off on any drinks?”  A   voice interrupts his thoughts. Marco looks away from the man who is turning a rosy shade to look at the owner of the voice-

And he promptly almost gets headed shotted by cupid. There is a version of a man standing on the other side of the bar. He is wearing the apron but no shirt showing off abs that could wash any clothes. An orange cowboy hat sits on soft looking raven locks, and the wavy hair falls on a face dotted with freckles.  “I ugh..wah?”

Ace luckily seems to think he can’t hear him over the noise and leans over the bar just a bit  “I said my name is Ace and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off on any drinks?”

“One cola and a sweet tea” He manages to say after gaping at the man. “I’m waiting on someone” 

Ace nods “Coming right up.”

He turns to leave but his eyes catch the other man and he lights up  “Tobi! It’s been a while!”

“Tobi” or Sabo in disguises straightens, face redder than before  “Hey Ace. Yeah I had a lot of jobs recently but I thought I drop in”

“No kidding. How did that business deal go? Did you get what your boss wanted?”  

“Yes. I was able to find what he was looking for.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy for you. Oh hey, I saw a hair piece I thought you might like the other day so I bought it for you. Remind me to give it to you before you leave.”

Sabo looks like someone just gifted him the world, fingers playing with his hair.  “You didn’t have to do that Ace.”

“Course I did. Hair as pretty as yours needs to have the proper accessories.”  

Marco doesn’t know why but he doesn’t quite like the way Sabo is leaning towards Ace. He scowls at the long hair wig.  You’re not even real. You can’t be pretty.

Ace eventually stop chatting with Tobi-Sabo, walking away to get Marco’s drinks while Sabo is left staring at him longingly. Then quite suddenly the red-haired turns to glare at Marco and it’s a silent challenge.

Love rival  Those blue eyes say 

Bring it on  Marco’s own answer.

By the time Thatch joins them Marco is in a new found love and a newfound hatred. 

[jihacs-blog]

           hey there ! this is your Local Sleepyhead vic ( 21, gmt-4, she/her ) and i apologize in advance if i take long spaces of time to reply something just asdjka my schedule is a messy rn & apparently i’m doin everything i can to make it worse :// also english isn’t my native language so i’m sorry for any typos .. anyway, this is jihae a very chinese man, baker, ur actual mom friend and u can find his STATS here and the PLOTS here. just do that thing and i’ll roll into ur dms <3

tw: cancer

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ let’s introduce you to wang jihae, they are a twenty-four year old park jimin lookalike living in daemapo apartment complex. this particular cismale has been living in seoul for two years and has gained the title of being the rose-colored glasses during that time, which is probably because of their communicative + self-indulgent, yet unstable + escapist tendencies. not to mention he currently works as a baker, and can been seen hanging around teachaicha in their free time.  

➭  ❝    𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 ..

wenli was a pastry cook known by her extraordinary wedding cakes ; having her work well recognized in hong kong, it wasn’t long before she wanted to grow in value and this was how she ended up at conferences all over asia. in a more special one, she met kim jongsuk, a son of a respected ceo in seoul, and then began their short love story.

jongsuk was about to take over his father’s company, and wenli needed to get back to hong kong when they discovered the pregnancy. and that was how jihae was born : in a not very conventional family, but it was what he had and appreciated the most. although far away, his father never lacked & his mother took cared for him as a good mama bear that she was.

grew in the middle of the flour. literally. his mother decided to take root after a few years and bought her first bakery specializing in wedding cakes and it was exactly from there that jihae’s love was born. he wanted to make brides thrill with the cakes he’d create in the future on the happiest days of their lives.

it wasn’t long before his father announced he’d get married. and to everyone’s surprise, it was wenli who proposed to make the wedding cake. jihae didn’t know, but if he suspected that this would be his last event closer to his mother in a healthy way he’d have made the most of it. after that, they received a diagnosis of breast cancer. it was a battle for a year and six months before the woman lost it bravely.

jihae didn’t let himself be shaken by it, he had his mourning time, but he knew his mother wouldn’t want him to focus too much on his pain. so he decided to occupy his mind, finishing high school with merit and asking his father for an academic exchange in france, to improve his knowledge. after six months very well spent, he spent some time traveling the usa & then decided that his new home would be : seoul.

 ➭  ❝    𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉  ..

after moving back to seoul, jihae with the help of his father managed to sell his mother’s belongings, such as the bakery and the house they lived in ( only saving some of the woman’s favorite clothes and jewels as souvenirs ). part of the money he donated to a hospital specializing in curing cancer.

lived with his father and his family for a few months, but they knew it was temporary. since then jihae wanted to buy a place to turn into his own baker, and he knew it was a risk to make it still so young, but he needed to follow his mother’s dream —– and his own dream.

has a very good relationship with his father & his small family, especially his younger step-sister, whom he loves to make candies to and spend time with her whenever he can.

➭  ❝    𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 ..

jihae can be classified as someone half-outgoing and half-introverted. he’ll keep quiet in situations he isn’t used to, but around those he’s comfortable with, it’s like a big ass party !

if you want to label him, however, mom friend is probably the best to go.

there’s no bad mood with him, he’s always willing to help his friends and family. and also those who need it. can’t see a street dog that he wants to bring it home, even though he knows he can’t.

despite being very good in the patisserie, kitchen isn’t his forte. complex dishes he prefers to leave for the take out app on his phone.

a flamboyant even if i don’t think that’s the correct term ?? by being raised only by his mother, he grew in greater contact with his sensitive side & giving reason more to the feeling than the concrete ideas inside his mind.

doesn’t have a sexual orientation ? like,, he respects everyone and is fond of getting to know about it, but he doesn’t feel in the place to put himself inside a box like that. he likes the people he likes, he does what he does and that’s it.

tho he’s extremely organized, has a plan for everything and states that everything that happened had a plan and if not, it wasn’t right. doesn’t believe in luck.

workaholic ( !! )

hates people telling him what to do. he knows how to respect opinions, but he’s hard-headed enough to insist on his own idea before giving up and saying he was wrong ( most of the time, he won’t be wrong, so he never needs to show his stubborn side anyways ).

although very sensitive, this side of him is kept shut down. always with a rehearsed smile decorating his face at all times.

l o v e s make up !

if he sleeps at least four hours in one night that’s like a lot inside his head.

is a volunteer in a hospital for children with cancer, and believes that this is one of the means that helps him recover from losing his mother.

can talk all night about literally everything.

well,, he’s a baby. pls love him

[pawsimses]

3. What are some of your character’s most significant connections with others?

This took months to answer but I did it >>;For Lin, it’s first his fellow Jedi and friends, but most specifically his adopted family. Syo in particular; his Master (unofficially) has been part of his life since he was small and Lin is very VERY attached to him (albeit not outwardly). He sees Syo as his father figure outside his biological and adoptive ones, possibly more so. Syo is both role model and friend, and Lin will always love him. As such, he was crushed to learn the truth of the First Son, and strove to save Syo instead of ending him like Master Kaeden initially wanted (another can of worms for Lin but that’s unimportant and more a personal headcanon from my trash self lol). Even afterwards, despite being successful, Lin is saddened deeply when he’s still forced to say goodbye to Syo for the last time. It’s both a memorable moment and a learning lesson for him; letting go. Now to be fair, he isn’t Anakin (he’s not deep rooted in fear of loss), but he does struggle with attachments like the average person. But he understood, being raised as a Jedi, the importance of letting go and respected that, should it boil down to it, he’d let Syo die because that’s what Syo would rather have than let the First Son linger. Even so… Lin was still too attached to take that route, passing it off as a “last resort” over and over again because he still clung to the hope that Syo would be saved. But upon the victory and seeing just how exhausted Syo was, Lin realized how hard pressed this reluctance to “do the Jedi thing and not place his personal affairs into his decision making” was. It teaches him that, though he loves deeply, sometimes he HAS to make the right decision and let his loved ones go when its their time. Syo’s wasn’t that case but others will be. All in all, his heart broke when Syo sent him his last letter of gratitude and Lin may or may not have shed tears over the final severe between his and Syo’s bond as Jedi, marking Lin as a freshly minted Jedi Master on his own.… And then he meets Theron. Oh boy. Theron is both his light and foil to his Jedi person. Despite SoR details, Lin and Theron actually meet once before, on Coruscant during a gala (shortly after RotHC) to which the Council and SIS were attending. Theron was brought along by Marcus as a guest for his hard work (and attempt to get him out of his apartment for at least one night). Lin was sent alongside Kiwiiks and the Grandmaster to represent the Jedi at the event. Halfway through the night, Theron wandered off from Marcus to grab food when he bumped into a crowd of Senators and Jedi, Lin among them. He was introduce to Lin as the Barsen’thor and newest appointment Council member, and after a quick handshake, they part. They obviously meet again on the Fleet at the start of SoR, but its that meeting that spurs Theron to look into Lin’s credentials while seeking potential candidates for the Assault on Korriban. The rest is history :PNow Theron and Lin’s relationship is sweet but its not flawless. They both love the hell out of each other and simultaneously drive each other up the damn wall. Theron adores how sweet and kind Lin is, his quirks and bizarre behaviour that surfaces (genetic thing from his witch mother I’m not getting into) from time to time. He also hates how easy Lin gives in to others and lets people walk all over him. Especially his brother, Coxio, though Lin will stand up to him when pushed. Lin tries to please everyone and Theron tries time and time again to tell him WHY he can’t/how it’s not possible. He sees Lin blunder when Lin doesn’t listen to him and it irks him to no end because this is his husband, he should at the very least give some consideration to what Theron is saying. On the opposite end of the scale, Lin adores Theron for who he is, social ungraces and all. However, he gets annoyed by Theron’s “solo mode” attitude when it comes to both work and home life. He understands Theron’s issues with commitment and relationships, but it does bother him when Theron insists time after time that he can “cook dinner by himself” when Lin is trying to subtly imply that he wants to BOND with this activity together, dammit. Then comes work; Lin easily gets pissed by Theron’s insistence to DO THINGS ALONE. Especially missions that require team effort or at the very least LIN’S KNOWLEDGE (looking at you, Nathemia…).Then comes the belief conflictions; Lin, of course, being Jedi still holds to some of their ideals even if he doesn’t consider himself one any longer (he’s broken the Code and frankly has no desire to mend that fracture at this point in his life). “Letting go” is one; he feels that, should someone want it, they should be respected (hypocrite alert; he believes in it unless its on his call… yeah he learned a lesson but its a behaviour he still doesn’t curb or try to curb yet will remark on it like he has the right -_-; ). Problem is, he dubs this to himself more than others (see?). He’d rather give his life for his cause and people than let them go for him (his conscious is a guilty one, a bit selfishly too… realllyyyy regretting Torian rn TTATT). Theron, on the other hand, disagrees; this ties in with Lin trying to please everyone, Theron has issue with him trying to “play the big hero” because he can’t and shouldn’t, he’s worth more than throwing his life away for others just for the sake of sacrifice. (He’s aware too that Lin would rather live than die, a bit cowardice there but eh who isn’t with something in life?). This has spurred bigger arguments than the two would like to admit. Nathemia being a prime example; Theron’s attachment to Lin causing him to run a solo undercover so deep even a sarlacc couldn’t burrow as far irked Lin to no end, because if it would have spared the galaxy his blunders come the months after Umbara then maybe it was meant to be from the Force. Cue big hellish fight that ends with both exhausted. They reconcile and come to an agreement to not go this far again, but its not a good fight. Lin, being the doormat he is, forgives Theron in the end because he does know Theron did it out of love and is truly regretful. This time though the careless behaviour on Lin’s part doesn’t piss off Theron, it pisses off Coxio. Especially considering how Theron takes the answer without question, Coxio feels Shan does not respect his brother nor understand the damage he’s done and takes Lin for granted. (Yeah that… does not go over well the next time Coxio corners Theron in the war room…)Outside that, minor things that bad habits and leaving dishes and datapads lying around (and Lin over spoiling the damn cat) are all that the two bicker about. Oh and Lin not using his damn inhaler (asthma from lung damage via carbonite poisoning) when he’s supposed to, insisting “he’s fine, he doesn’t need it now” and Theron refusing proper med care, “just kolto spray and go, its cool”, which drive LANA nuts. End of the day, they love each other; but as with all marriages, its not always flowers and sunshine. They fight, they argue, they kiss and make up, they’re a couple as any other are. They come home, they spend time together with their cat, its good. Now comes Lana. In some instances, Lana is the wife of both Theron and Lin, others just the exasperated best friend. For Lin, she’s his best friend and protector. Sith or not, she’s one of the few whose stuck by his side regardless of every stupid mistake and decision he’s made, even as she calls him out on it. He trusts her like no other, even with some things he doesn’t tell Theron about. She’s also one of the few to mother hen him unconditionally, especially regarding important factors like “TAKE YOUR KRIFFING INHALER BEFORE I FORCE SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!” and “I SWEAR TO THE STARS IF YOU KEEP GRAZING FOOD, I WILL STRAP YOU TO THE TABLE, FINISH YOUR DINNER!” (directed at both Theron and Lin equally) and “STOP RUNNING HEADLONG INTO BLASTER FIRE!”. He loves her and its through her that he comes to realize that the Empire are a people too, like the Republic, and becomes more receptive of its members, even if he disagrees with a number of their policies (slavery and discrimination for two…).Now comes family, and for this I will go with Coxio. Like the rest of his family, Lin did not know Coxio until adulthood, when they face off first against Malgus on Ilum together and then SoR before meeting again years later during KOTFE. Hell, he wasn’t even aware that they were brothers despite similarities in appearance (like his dad Arol, Lin’s a little dense…). All in all, his relationship with Coxio is… complicated. Coxio, despite his careless attitude and being a complete shit-disturber, values family over all else and loves his little brother unconditionally. This stems back to early childhood, when Lin was first born and Coxio was introduced to his new brother. In the short time before their family was torn apart, he was protective and loving to the newest family member, promising his father with six-year-old vigor that he’d always look out for Lin. A promise that made its way to adulthood, even if Coxio recognizes that its not as imagined. Lin, on the other hand, doesn’t care much for his brother at all, both from lack of familial relation and disagreement with Coxio’s actions as a person. He gets into more arguments than talks with his brother, which end in frustration on his end because Coxio blows him off and yet still insists on treating him like little kid when Lin is clearly not for that. Coxio knows this; he recognizes that due to fate and circumstances, they may never be close as brother, if brothers at all. As heartbreaking at that is for him, who spent his life quietly loving Lin even when he didn’t know what happened to him, he understands why and despite that factor, still loves Lin unconditionally and would give his life to protect his brother in a hearbeat. Lin… hard to say if he would; he would die for Coxio like he would his fellow Alliance members, but from a Jedi standpoint than family, which is more an insult than a reassurance. Even so, deep down part of Lin does love Coxio. Despite being exasperated most of the time, he does not hate Coxio; Lin wants to love his brother, tries to, but Coxio’s personality clashing with his and his constant harassment of Theron (who Coxio believes isn’t the best choice of lover for his naive little brother) put him at odds. It’s also due in part to Lin not really knowing Coxio at all and Coxio pushing boundaries by treating Lin as if he knows him inside out, which makes Lin uncomfortable since he does this from the get go instead of letting Lin slowly acquaint himself with Coxio. (Granted, after Nathemia, Coxio and Lin’s relationship does improve and Lin accepts Coxio as his brother, even if he drives him nuts. Post Nathemia its put under strain again for a short time, but eventually improves again). There are others, like Acina (whom Lin forms a very close friendship to until Iokath erodes it) but this point is long as it is so I’ll stop here lol

[anshushrivastavasblog]

It Is Essential To Teach Cooking During Covid-19 Pandemic

THAT IS RIGHT! YOU MUST TEACH COOKING TO YOUR CHILDREN DURING COVID-19 PANDEMIC TIME. ALSO, GIVE THEM KNOWLEDGE ABOUT DIFFERENT FOOD ITEMS AND NUTRITION

Food is an essential part of our lives. It is one of the reasons we are alive. This makes it so important that each one of us knows how to cook. Because without food we can’t stay alive for long. It is the necessity of our life. Yet it is mostly seen that it is only the woman of the house who knows cooking and not the other family members. This is especially true in India. Though we have men who are big chefs but when it comes to cooking at home, it’s mostly done by women. You have to realize that cooking is a life-saving skill and everybody should know how to cook food for survival and living. As parents, it becomes your responsibility to make sure that your children learn this essential skill. So, you must teach cooking to your children during Corona Pandemic time.

WHY SHOULD YOU KNOW COOKING DURING COVID-19 PANDEMIC

● COOKING MAKES YOU SELF SUFFICIENT

A person strives to become independent by educating himself/herself and growing his/her bank balance. But is he/she even independent if he/she has to order food every time he/she is hungry or depends on someone else to cook for them? Are you even independent if you can’t make something as simple as an omelet or sandwich to satisfy your hunger? It doesn’t matter if you have a cook at home, knowing cooking makes you independent in the true sense as you can’t live without eating for long and makes you self-sufficient as you don’t have to depend on others for your food especially in times like we are going through now.

● COOKING SAVES YOU A LOT OF MONEY

With Coronavirus dominating the way our lives are going right now, the majority of us have shifted to home-cooked food as it is more hygienic. Also, no one of us wants to take any risk by ordering outside food. But the main thing here is that you must have noticed that your expenses have significantly decreased as you are not ordering food from outside. Cooking at home doesn’t only make you independent but also saves you a lot of money. The best part here is that the food you cook at home is better than your order.

● COOKING KEEPS YOU HEALTHY

When you cook food, you get to know more about the nutritional value of various food items. This makes you more knowledgeable and careful about what you eat and what you should eat. Gradually it will help you to be more healthy. Also, home-cooked food is more hygienic and thus saves you from unwanted infections. When you know how to cook, you tend to order less outside junk food.

● COOKING IS THERAPEUTIC

Cooking is not just any skill but it is an art, An art that takes practice and patience to ace it. But it is in reach of every human and can be mastered by anyone. Like any other art, cooking helps you to relax your mind and can be very therapeutic as it is a creative process. Cooking should not be considered as another household chore, it is much more than that. It is a creative process, an art, and a passion for many.

● COOKING MAKES YOU IMPRESSIVE

Our personality is a combination of many factors. One of them is your skills. Like knowing any other skill adds to your personality, so does the cooking. Cooking makes your personality impressive in a manner that you don’t have to be dependent on anyone, you know the most important life-saving skill and adding to that your spouse and children would be happier to have someone who cooks delicious food

WHY SHOULD YOU TEACH COOKING TO YOUR CHILDREN DURING COVID-19 PANDEMIC TIME?

● PROMOTES BETTER LIFESTYLE

The lifestyle we have today is very unhealthy especially that of our children. They sit long hours on a chair working on their computers. Other times they are stuck on their mobile phones. Not just that they prefer ordering food or going out to eat rather than cooking home.

● PREPARES YOUR CHILD WITH A SURVIVAL SKILL FOR FUTURE

Also, your child might be traveling and shifting to another city or country in the future for studies or work. This would mean they would either be staying in a PG or in a hostel. We cannot guarantee the quality of food at these places even if we pay more for their services. But what you can do is to teach your child how to cook so he/she doesn’t have to rely on anyone else to cook good and hygienic food for them.

● INCREASES KNOWLEDGE OF NUTRITION

As a parent, you should try to cultivate the habit and skill of cooking in your children since childhood only. Not just cooking rather you should also make your child aware of the various nutrients that our body requires and how we get those through healthy home-cooked food.

Nutrients that food provides for proper growth, energy, proper functioning of the body, and increase immunity are important to be known by everyone for healthy living. However, we can generally learn about this by studying nutrients. But when we know how to cook, it becomes easy to track the intake of nutrients present in the food. You know what is best for you to eat and don’t just eat randomly. This would also help to reduce the intake of junk food by your child. This not just ensures that you will have good health even your family will have good health.

There are essential nutrients that your body doesn’t make and you need to get it from food. These are proteins, fats, carbohydrates, vitamins, minerals, and water. Benefits of having knowledge of what you eat, how you eat, and why you eat don’t end here. A healthy body will also help in maintaining good mental health which is even more important for a good life.

● MAKES THEM UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF FOOD

According to FAO estimates in ‘The State of Food Security and Nutrition in the World, 2019’ report, 194.4 million people are undernourished in India. So many people only get to eat food one time. This makes it very important for you as a parent to inculcate such values in your children that help them to understand the importance of food. One way of doing it is by teaching them to cook. When one cooks he/she starts respecting the efforts that go into cooking food and realizes that one should not waste the food. They become more aware and would only take the food that they can eat on their plate be it at home or outside. They won’t leave any food on the plate as they would know its value.

● DISTRACTS THEM FROM USING GADGETS AND THUS REDUCING SCREEN TIME

Aren’t we all parents so frustrated with the amount of time our children spend on their laptops and mobile phones? Cooking is a skill that can help you to reduce screen time.

● SHARPENS MEMORY

Cooking involves recalling all the ingredients that are required to make a dish. It might be that first time, they will read the recipe from somewhere or you tell them but gradually as they make more and more dishes they would have the ingredients and process stored in their minds for different dishes. This would keep their brain working and improve their memory power.

But it doesn’t end here. When we have knowledge of food, we also realize that not many know the agricultural process that goes to produce food. And this makes it important for us to make our children be aware of the same. This would also make your child be interested in kitchen gardening.

To conclude, I just want to highlight that food is an essential part of our lives. Thus, having knowledge about various vegetables, fruits and other eating. items and knowing how to cook them would help in living our lives in a much better way. Above all, you should make it a promise to teach cooking to your children during Corona Pandemic time.

Please share to Facebook, Twitter and Whatsapp if you like this article. Also, comment to let me know your views.

Source By : https://anshushrivastava.com/parenting-tips/cooking-during-covid-19-pandemic/

[easyfoodnetwork]

What Can Chipotle Teach Us About Mexican Food?

White-centered food narratives appear most often at major chains. It’s time to hold them accountable.

I’m a professional chef, and up until three years ago, I had no idea what barbacoa really meant.

I thought I did. I’d eaten my fair share of “barbacoa” at Chipotle, where its shredded-beef burrito was my splurge order. But on a tour of Xochimilco, a tapestry of canals and artificial islands that was once a major source of local produce for Mexico City, Paco, my tour guide, took me to his favorite barbacoa stall, where we were greeted with three juicy tacos and a bowl of lamb broth to wash it all down. When I mentioned that I’d thought barbacoa was only beef, he gave me a quizzical look: “Oh yeah? Where have you been eating barbacoa?”

As a chef, I was a little embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. But as someone deeply convinced that food is an extension of identity, who has experienced first-hand the harmful impacts of stereotypes seeping into cultural norms and is now actively working toward changing them, I was horrified at how easily I accepted something completely stripped of cultural context sold to me by a chain.

But such is the world of giant quick-service and fast-casual business: Find interesting, “trendy,” flavorful ideas from any culture, dilute them into their most mass-marketable forms, and reap monetary gain without acknowledging the sources. Although these chains, due to sheer size and reach, are often representing certain dishes or cuisines to large swaths of people — sometimes for the first or only time — they do very little to contextualize the foods they serve. So far, these companies have experienced little pushback and are under no compulsion to change. But as we reckon with the complicated intersection of social and political structures behind food, we have an opportunity to demand a very different future for fast casual.

Barbacoa’s history is a fascinating case study of Caribbean “barbecue” (aka barbacoa) evolving as it moved through Mexico, where lamb or mutton would be wrapped in maguey leaves and steamed underground, and into Texas, where cattle heads were substituted for sheep due to regional availability. It is a laborious process, hence why devotees happily line up for chefs they believe can work magic in the meat, like Cristina Martinez of Philadelphia’s South Philly Barbacoa.

While the final shredded texture of beef barbacoa may resemble that of Chipotle’s “slow-cooked beef combined with water” — as it’s described by Chipotle’s culinary director, Chad Brauze — it comes nowhere close to representing barbacoa technique. In calling this filling “barbacoa,” a sharp contrast to its straightforward “chicken” and “steak,” Chipotle has found an easy way to add a marketable tinge of foreignness to its menu to back up its cred as a “Mexican” grill.

This is not to say food can’t, or shouldn’t, evolve. The very core of food culture is adaptation to new environments, new palates, new people, new ingredients — and these exchanges are not always peaceful or mutually beneficial. Barbacoa has changed over time to include beef as a common protein choice, Spam musubi is now a well-loved Hawaiian staple, and so forth — but ignoring history in search of “approachability” only serves to entrench distorted power dynamics that persist to this day.

As barbacoa becomes another “familiar” option on the steam table, we must examine who has the power to force the process of adaptation and assimilation for profit, and who does not. In the case of food, all that PR fluff about bringing people together completely misses — or perhaps purposefully conceals — the truth that with power, the food of another culture can become a mere commodity, a cog in the wheel of capitalism separate and distinct from the people closest to it.

At $4.9 billion in revenue and close to 2,500 locations as of 2018, Chipotle’s influence is undeniable. “One of the best things about Chipotle is our reach ... in many diverse communities throughout the United States and beyond,” Brauze said in an email. Yet when it comes to educating this diverse audience — some of whose view of “Mexican” food has been shaped specifically by Chipotle’s interpretation — he deflects observations of the chain’s responsibility. “We hope that all people will arm themselves with a greater knowledge of where their food comes from, what ingredients are utilized, and how it’s prepared.”

Maybe it is too much to expect a giant company like Chipotle, run by a primarily white C-suite and most famed for an efficient assembly line, to provide an anthropological perspective for each dish. But what is the inflection point of scale and profit where accountability also sets in, whether it feels “fair” or not?

Nomenclature is arguably the most visible — and therefore hotly contested — aspect of food representation. To have the ability to name something is power, and to proliferate that name widely is influence. At Noodles & Company, with 460 locations and a revenue of $458 million in 2018, dishes are titled “Japanese Pan Noodles” or “Spicy Korean Beef Noodles,” harking back to a likely inspiration (yakisoba) or arbitrary ingredient choice (gochujang). It’s easy to assume these are the results of a flippant naming process, but they’re in fact quite deliberate; as the chain’s executive chef, Nick Graff, explains, names are determined after conducting “online screening tests and taste panels where guests can tell us what naming convention best represents their expectations once they have experienced the dish.”

Consumers do not produce these flattened, generic names in a vacuum. It’s a result of centuries of blurring and erasure of geographic, historical, and cultural nuance, socialized into an idea that “other” places are more homogenous and less important. Consistent exposure to governmental and corporate propaganda has reduced vast regions like “Asia,” “Africa,” and “the Middle East” into amorphous descriptors barely varied enough to distinguish, their differences of little regard, and the essence of their cuisine easily distilled into a few fried wonton strips or a pinch of garam masala.

Generic menu names are the result of centuries of erasure of geographic, historical, and cultural nuance.

Within this self-reinforcing cycle, it’s unsurprising to see examples like Wendy’s limited-run “Asian” Cashew Chicken Salad, a riff on “Chinese” chicken salad that conflates China with Asia and disregards its complicated roots in assimilation and cultural adaption. (Wendy’s declined to comment for this story.) Even a trip to the grocery store yields similar findings: Enter Trader Joe’s painfully stereotyped Trader Ming’s line, which sells blurry pan-Asian items like Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower in a package accentuated by a “Chinese”-ish font. (Recently, Trader Joe’s vowed to rebrand its “ethnic” lines, but has since reversed course.)

It’s easy to dismiss these collective occurrences as a byproduct of capitalism, to make excuses for the middle managers who aren’t willing to risk their own necks to push back. But food has always been entrenched in Western colonization, imperialism, and enslavement, and it continues to shape (and change) public opinion. The way we allow these national and international chains to treat a food culture implicitly shows the respect (or lack thereof) we have for the people represented by these cuisines — and it is with this backing that appropriative, white-centered food narratives can take place.

For instance, Google searches for “Nashville hot chicken” jumped from an interest index of 4 to 100 after KFC released its version in January 2016, with the New Yorker calling it a “viral sensation.” Yet no part of KFC’s marketing includes a mention of Prince’s, where the dish originated. (KFC declined to comment for this story.) The chasm left by KFC’s silence gives way to a very different, white narrative. Within the year, Food Republic treated the African-American soul of hot chicken as a mere footnote: “Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack may have created hot chicken in the 1930s ... but Hattie B’s has made hot chicken cool,” it said of a newer hot chicken contender in Nashville, after calling Hattie B’s chef “the man who launched the Nashville hot chicken craze.”

This erasure of foodways has further manifested in disasters like “pho gate,” where Bon Appétit anointed a white male chef as the expert on pho, allowing him to bend the narrative of an iconic Vietnamese dish with his own “rules”; Andrew Zimmern’s restaurant Lucky Cricket, where the celebrity chef insulted “horseshit” Chinese restaurants to tout his own “authenticity,” ignoring the foundation laid by early Chinese restaurateurs adjusting to an American palate and subsequent creation of a distinct Chinese-American cuisine; and Kooks, the Portland, Oregon, burrito cart whose two young female entrepreneurs proudly admitted to snooping their way into the intellectual property of “tortilla ladies” in Puerto Nuevo, Mexico, in order to profit off of their techniques back home.

These are far from the only times Black culture has been co-opted or immigrants’ contributions dismissed. But the stakes are now higher than ever. Stripping food from its undoubtedly political history in order to offer a sanitized version digestible by the majority allows for the frightening notion that minorities are separate and distinct from what they offer to the country. It suggests that after “we” as Americans have harnessed what we want from them, those people can be discarded.

Protesters shouted at Kirstjen Nielsen for dining at a Mexican restaurant after escalating the “zero tolerance” immigration policy in 2018, but her actions are eerily consistent with those of her predecessors. In the 19th century, Chinese restaurants were lauded as having some of the best food in the country; in spite of that, anti-Chinese political rhetoric was widespread enough to pass the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act — after Chinese laborers had been hired specifically to construct the most hazardous points of the transcontinental railway — which was not repealed until 1943.

How and when foods and cultures are embraced by a historically white-dominant America has had hefty implications. Without racial, socioeconomic, and political power, without the right “image,” ideas command little value — at most they are trendy, at worst “indecent” or even “criminal” if embraced by the minority. But demographics are changing: According to the Brookings Institute, at 45 percent minority, millennials are the most diverse adult generation in U.S. history (Gen Z will be even more so), and this presents an opportunity to push back on problematic nomenclature and representation.

If the actions of these big companies have demonstrated anything, it is that there is power in numbers. It is up to our generation to scrutinize these brands, whose reach permeates our lives on the daily, whose executives (inaccurately) treat America as though they are as white as they are, whose menus and messaging influence the next wave of restaurateurs and food entrepreneurs. One start would be for Chipotle to consider an accurate rebranding of its barbacoa to “shredded beef.”

To light the way, a new wave of fast casuals is actively changing the status quo. For these restaurateurs, the first step has been to hold their own menus accountable.

“A big issue we faced as operators [of a healthy Indian concept] was finding a way to meet consumers midway with their vision of Indian food and what we wanted to present them with,” explains Viraj Borkar, co-creator and culinary director of Inday, an Ayurvedic-based Indian chain. Now in its fifth year, Inday has learned its own lessons: a smooth chickpea puree originally called “chickpea masala” went through a sequence of name changes so as to not misrepresent it to those unfamiliar. (Now it’s no longer on the menu.) The “cauliflower biryani” was further clarified to give the backstory of biryani while explaining the Inday version as non-traditional, with its base of “cauliflower ‘rice’” now available separately on the menu. Borkar stands by the statement that “it is the fast casual’s job to educate people and give clarity” on what it is offering, which sometimes means the company needs to scrap a product causing more harm than good, and start over.

Lucas Sin, a 2019 Eater Young Gun and the culinary director of Junzi, a Chinese fast-casual chain, emphasizes this notion of education with the prevalent use of Chinese characters throughout his menu. No one dish is titled as if it represents a region, even if the flavor combinations may hail from one, and unfamiliar ingredients are deliberately not renamed so guests must actively learn what they are. Finding a balance between the “60 seconds or so” guests take to assess the menu and the terminology he deems important to promote has not been easy. Furu tofu, for example, a lacto-fermented type of tofu unfamiliar to most American consumers, is used throughout the menu and elicits questions, which Junzi’s staff is trained to answer thoroughly.

“The future of fast casual is not to tell people, ‘This is what you should eat because that’s what’s affordable.’”

“[One of the few terms] we’ve ever made up is our Jaja sauce,” Sin says. Because the Junzi sauce resembles the classic zha jiang sauce in flavor, but doesn’t have the ground pork component, he opted to create a phonetically similar word for it.

It is possible to reset the framework for making and serving foods from other backgrounds, too. Sofia Luna, president of Sophie’s Cuban, a Cuban fast-casual chain, hails from Lima, Peru, but saw that Cuban food was particularly popular among the Latinx community in the Financial District, where her family first started operating food stands. To open the restaurant, they brought on Cuban chef Eduardo Morgado to create the menu (with most items still available today) not just as a consultant or research and development chef, but an active owner of the business.

In particular, Luna has paid attention to the implications of naming: “If something is tweaked or modified, we want to be transparent with our customer. Our ‘Pernil with a Twist’ was named that way to ensure customers knew they were not getting a traditional pernil sandwich.”

Chef JJ Johnson of Field Trip, a rice-centered fast-casual restaurant with two locations in New York City, sees menus as a way to celebrate and expand, not marginalize, consumer perceptions of its roots by providing cultural context. As the menu spans many cuisines, from a loosely Thai-inspired sticky rice shrimp dish with green curry (simply titled “Shrimp”) to a jollof-style basmati rice bowl (“Veggie”), Johnson is adamant that “every culture deserves specificity” and “we don’t call something for a selling point, like ‘The Jamaican Bowl,’ because that’s just lazy.”

“Take jollof, for example,” he explains, “it’s a tomato-based rice, and jollof is about the preparation of the rice. The inspiration of the overall bowl [Veggie] comes from India. It’s somewhat similar to biryani [the bowl uses basmati rice]. We have a map showing people where the rice is from, and we lead with service by explaining the technique behind the rice. So if someone asks for ‘Spanish rice,’ we can say, ‘What kind of Spanish rice?’ and show them how there are styles, and there are regions.” By using straightforward language accented with in-person dialogue, Johnson is demonstrating that no restaurant “has” to lean on tired tropes to express flavor.

And it’s working: All of these fast casuals have seen steady engagement from customers since opening, disproving the idea that consumers exclusively care about convenience. The owners attribute part of this brand loyalty to their larger commitment to raising conscientiousness and increasing community access to new foods and food cultures. “Every community needs some sort of impact structure to improve,” Johnson says. “I opened in Harlem because I was tired of people telling Black and brown folks that we don’t care about what we eat. The future of fast casual is not to tell people, ‘This is what you should eat because that’s what’s affordable,’ it’s where you can understand your food, where someone can talk to you about it, where you want to try new things and expand what you know.”

These varied dishes all contribute to the growing tapestry of American cuisine, a multi-dimensional story of adaptation, innovation, and survival. Increasing a restaurant’s reach or volume does not entitle operators to shirk the responsibility of explaining the very complexities its foods are based on. Instead, we can embrace learning about food as a natural part of the eating process, each meal an opportunity to deepen our understanding of ourselves and each other.

Jenny Dorsey is a professional chef, writer, and the founder of Studio ATAO, a nonprofit community think tank working at the intersection of food, art, and social impact. Bug Robbins is a non-binary queer illustrator obsessed with printmaking, folklore, and green witchcraft. Edited by Rachel Kreiter Fact-checked by Andrea López-Cruzado

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White-centered food narratives appear most often at major chains. It’s time to hold them accountable.

I’m a professional chef, and up until three years ago, I had no idea what barbacoa really meant.

I thought I did. I’d eaten my fair share of “barbacoa” at Chipotle, where its shredded-beef burrito was my splurge order. But on a tour of Xochimilco, a tapestry of canals and artificial islands that was once a major source of local produce for Mexico City, Paco, my tour guide, took me to his favorite barbacoa stall, where we were greeted with three juicy tacos and a bowl of lamb broth to wash it all down. When I mentioned that I’d thought barbacoa was only beef, he gave me a quizzical look: “Oh yeah? Where have you been eating barbacoa?”

As a chef, I was a little embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. But as someone deeply convinced that food is an extension of identity, who has experienced first-hand the harmful impacts of stereotypes seeping into cultural norms and is now actively working toward changing them, I was horrified at how easily I accepted something completely stripped of cultural context sold to me by a chain.

But such is the world of giant quick-service and fast-casual business: Find interesting, “trendy,” flavorful ideas from any culture, dilute them into their most mass-marketable forms, and reap monetary gain without acknowledging the sources. Although these chains, due to sheer size and reach, are often representing certain dishes or cuisines to large swaths of people — sometimes for the first or only time — they do very little to contextualize the foods they serve. So far, these companies have experienced little pushback and are under no compulsion to change. But as we reckon with the complicated intersection of social and political structures behind food, we have an opportunity to demand a very different future for fast casual.

Barbacoa’s history is a fascinating case study of Caribbean “barbecue” (aka barbacoa) evolving as it moved through Mexico, where lamb or mutton would be wrapped in maguey leaves and steamed underground, and into Texas, where cattle heads were substituted for sheep due to regional availability. It is a laborious process, hence why devotees happily line up for chefs they believe can work magic in the meat, like Cristina Martinez of Philadelphia’s South Philly Barbacoa.

While the final shredded texture of beef barbacoa may resemble that of Chipotle’s “slow-cooked beef combined with water” — as it’s described by Chipotle’s culinary director, Chad Brauze — it comes nowhere close to representing barbacoa technique. In calling this filling “barbacoa,” a sharp contrast to its straightforward “chicken” and “steak,” Chipotle has found an easy way to add a marketable tinge of foreignness to its menu to back up its cred as a “Mexican” grill.

This is not to say food can’t, or shouldn’t, evolve. The very core of food culture is adaptation to new environments, new palates, new people, new ingredients — and these exchanges are not always peaceful or mutually beneficial. Barbacoa has changed over time to include beef as a common protein choice, Spam musubi is now a well-loved Hawaiian staple, and so forth — but ignoring history in search of “approachability” only serves to entrench distorted power dynamics that persist to this day.

As barbacoa becomes another “familiar” option on the steam table, we must examine who has the power to force the process of adaptation and assimilation for profit, and who does not. In the case of food, all that PR fluff about bringing people together completely misses — or perhaps purposefully conceals — the truth that with power, the food of another culture can become a mere commodity, a cog in the wheel of capitalism separate and distinct from the people closest to it.

At $4.9 billion in revenue and close to 2,500 locations as of 2018, Chipotle’s influence is undeniable. “One of the best things about Chipotle is our reach ... in many diverse communities throughout the United States and beyond,” Brauze said in an email. Yet when it comes to educating this diverse audience — some of whose view of “Mexican” food has been shaped specifically by Chipotle’s interpretation — he deflects observations of the chain’s responsibility. “We hope that all people will arm themselves with a greater knowledge of where their food comes from, what ingredients are utilized, and how it’s prepared.”

Maybe it is too much to expect a giant company like Chipotle, run by a primarily white C-suite and most famed for an efficient assembly line, to provide an anthropological perspective for each dish. But what is the inflection point of scale and profit where accountability also sets in, whether it feels “fair” or not?

Nomenclature is arguably the most visible — and therefore hotly contested — aspect of food representation. To have the ability to name something is power, and to proliferate that name widely is influence. At Noodles & Company, with 460 locations and a revenue of $458 million in 2018, dishes are titled “Japanese Pan Noodles” or “Spicy Korean Beef Noodles,” harking back to a likely inspiration (yakisoba) or arbitrary ingredient choice (gochujang). It’s easy to assume these are the results of a flippant naming process, but they’re in fact quite deliberate; as the chain’s executive chef, Nick Graff, explains, names are determined after conducting “online screening tests and taste panels where guests can tell us what naming convention best represents their expectations once they have experienced the dish.”

Consumers do not produce these flattened, generic names in a vacuum. It’s a result of centuries of blurring and erasure of geographic, historical, and cultural nuance, socialized into an idea that “other” places are more homogenous and less important. Consistent exposure to governmental and corporate propaganda has reduced vast regions like “Asia,” “Africa,” and “the Middle East” into amorphous descriptors barely varied enough to distinguish, their differences of little regard, and the essence of their cuisine easily distilled into a few fried wonton strips or a pinch of garam masala.

Generic menu names are the result of centuries of erasure of geographic, historical, and cultural nuance.

Within this self-reinforcing cycle, it’s unsurprising to see examples like Wendy’s limited-run “Asian” Cashew Chicken Salad, a riff on “Chinese” chicken salad that conflates China with Asia and disregards its complicated roots in assimilation and cultural adaption. (Wendy’s declined to comment for this story.) Even a trip to the grocery store yields similar findings: Enter Trader Joe’s painfully stereotyped Trader Ming’s line, which sells blurry pan-Asian items like Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower in a package accentuated by a “Chinese”-ish font. (Recently, Trader Joe’s vowed to rebrand its “ethnic” lines, but has since reversed course.)

It’s easy to dismiss these collective occurrences as a byproduct of capitalism, to make excuses for the middle managers who aren’t willing to risk their own necks to push back. But food has always been entrenched in Western colonization, imperialism, and enslavement, and it continues to shape (and change) public opinion. The way we allow these national and international chains to treat a food culture implicitly shows the respect (or lack thereof) we have for the people represented by these cuisines — and it is with this backing that appropriative, white-centered food narratives can take place.

For instance, Google searches for “Nashville hot chicken” jumped from an interest index of 4 to 100 after KFC released its version in January 2016, with the New Yorker calling it a “viral sensation.” Yet no part of KFC’s marketing includes a mention of Prince’s, where the dish originated. (KFC declined to comment for this story.) The chasm left by KFC’s silence gives way to a very different, white narrative. Within the year, Food Republic treated the African-American soul of hot chicken as a mere footnote: “Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack may have created hot chicken in the 1930s ... but Hattie B’s has made hot chicken cool,” it said of a newer hot chicken contender in Nashville, after calling Hattie B’s chef “the man who launched the Nashville hot chicken craze.”

This erasure of foodways has further manifested in disasters like “pho gate,” where Bon Appétit anointed a white male chef as the expert on pho, allowing him to bend the narrative of an iconic Vietnamese dish with his own “rules”; Andrew Zimmern’s restaurant Lucky Cricket, where the celebrity chef insulted “horseshit” Chinese restaurants to tout his own “authenticity,” ignoring the foundation laid by early Chinese restaurateurs adjusting to an American palate and subsequent creation of a distinct Chinese-American cuisine; and Kooks, the Portland, Oregon, burrito cart whose two young female entrepreneurs proudly admitted to snooping their way into the intellectual property of “tortilla ladies” in Puerto Nuevo, Mexico, in order to profit off of their techniques back home.

These are far from the only times Black culture has been co-opted or immigrants’ contributions dismissed. But the stakes are now higher than ever. Stripping food from its undoubtedly political history in order to offer a sanitized version digestible by the majority allows for the frightening notion that minorities are separate and distinct from what they offer to the country. It suggests that after “we” as Americans have harnessed what we want from them, those people can be discarded.

Protesters shouted at Kirstjen Nielsen for dining at a Mexican restaurant after escalating the “zero tolerance” immigration policy in 2018, but her actions are eerily consistent with those of her predecessors. In the 19th century, Chinese restaurants were lauded as having some of the best food in the country; in spite of that, anti-Chinese political rhetoric was widespread enough to pass the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act — after Chinese laborers had been hired specifically to construct the most hazardous points of the transcontinental railway — which was not repealed until 1943.

How and when foods and cultures are embraced by a historically white-dominant America has had hefty implications. Without racial, socioeconomic, and political power, without the right “image,” ideas command little value — at most they are trendy, at worst “indecent” or even “criminal” if embraced by the minority. But demographics are changing: According to the Brookings Institute, at 45 percent minority, millennials are the most diverse adult generation in U.S. history (Gen Z will be even more so), and this presents an opportunity to push back on problematic nomenclature and representation.

If the actions of these big companies have demonstrated anything, it is that there is power in numbers. It is up to our generation to scrutinize these brands, whose reach permeates our lives on the daily, whose executives (inaccurately) treat America as though they are as white as they are, whose menus and messaging influence the next wave of restaurateurs and food entrepreneurs. One start would be for Chipotle to consider an accurate rebranding of its barbacoa to “shredded beef.”

To light the way, a new wave of fast casuals is actively changing the status quo. For these restaurateurs, the first step has been to hold their own menus accountable.

“A big issue we faced as operators [of a healthy Indian concept] was finding a way to meet consumers midway with their vision of Indian food and what we wanted to present them with,” explains Viraj Borkar, co-creator and culinary director of Inday, an Ayurvedic-based Indian chain. Now in its fifth year, Inday has learned its own lessons: a smooth chickpea puree originally called “chickpea masala” went through a sequence of name changes so as to not misrepresent it to those unfamiliar. (Now it’s no longer on the menu.) The “cauliflower biryani” was further clarified to give the backstory of biryani while explaining the Inday version as non-traditional, with its base of “cauliflower ‘rice’” now available separately on the menu. Borkar stands by the statement that “it is the fast casual’s job to educate people and give clarity” on what it is offering, which sometimes means the company needs to scrap a product causing more harm than good, and start over.

Lucas Sin, a 2019 Eater Young Gun and the culinary director of Junzi, a Chinese fast-casual chain, emphasizes this notion of education with the prevalent use of Chinese characters throughout his menu. No one dish is titled as if it represents a region, even if the flavor combinations may hail from one, and unfamiliar ingredients are deliberately not renamed so guests must actively learn what they are. Finding a balance between the “60 seconds or so” guests take to assess the menu and the terminology he deems important to promote has not been easy. Furu tofu, for example, a lacto-fermented type of tofu unfamiliar to most American consumers, is used throughout the menu and elicits questions, which Junzi’s staff is trained to answer thoroughly.

“The future of fast casual is not to tell people, ‘This is what you should eat because that’s what’s affordable.’”

“[One of the few terms] we’ve ever made up is our Jaja sauce,” Sin says. Because the Junzi sauce resembles the classic zha jiang sauce in flavor, but doesn’t have the ground pork component, he opted to create a phonetically similar word for it.

It is possible to reset the framework for making and serving foods from other backgrounds, too. Sofia Luna, president of Sophie’s Cuban, a Cuban fast-casual chain, hails from Lima, Peru, but saw that Cuban food was particularly popular among the Latinx community in the Financial District, where her family first started operating food stands. To open the restaurant, they brought on Cuban chef Eduardo Morgado to create the menu (with most items still available today) not just as a consultant or research and development chef, but an active owner of the business.

In particular, Luna has paid attention to the implications of naming: “If something is tweaked or modified, we want to be transparent with our customer. Our ‘Pernil with a Twist’ was named that way to ensure customers knew they were not getting a traditional pernil sandwich.”

Chef JJ Johnson of Field Trip, a rice-centered fast-casual restaurant with two locations in New York City, sees menus as a way to celebrate and expand, not marginalize, consumer perceptions of its roots by providing cultural context. As the menu spans many cuisines, from a loosely Thai-inspired sticky rice shrimp dish with green curry (simply titled “Shrimp”) to a jollof-style basmati rice bowl (“Veggie”), Johnson is adamant that “every culture deserves specificity” and “we don’t call something for a selling point, like ‘The Jamaican Bowl,’ because that’s just lazy.”

“Take jollof, for example,” he explains, “it’s a tomato-based rice, and jollof is about the preparation of the rice. The inspiration of the overall bowl [Veggie] comes from India. It’s somewhat similar to biryani [the bowl uses basmati rice]. We have a map showing people where the rice is from, and we lead with service by explaining the technique behind the rice. So if someone asks for ‘Spanish rice,’ we can say, ‘What kind of Spanish rice?’ and show them how there are styles, and there are regions.” By using straightforward language accented with in-person dialogue, Johnson is demonstrating that no restaurant “has” to lean on tired tropes to express flavor.

And it’s working: All of these fast casuals have seen steady engagement from customers since opening, disproving the idea that consumers exclusively care about convenience. The owners attribute part of this brand loyalty to their larger commitment to raising conscientiousness and increasing community access to new foods and food cultures. “Every community needs some sort of impact structure to improve,” Johnson says. “I opened in Harlem because I was tired of people telling Black and brown folks that we don’t care about what we eat. The future of fast casual is not to tell people, ‘This is what you should eat because that’s what’s affordable,’ it’s where you can understand your food, where someone can talk to you about it, where you want to try new things and expand what you know.”

These varied dishes all contribute to the growing tapestry of American cuisine, a multi-dimensional story of adaptation, innovation, and survival. Increasing a restaurant’s reach or volume does not entitle operators to shirk the responsibility of explaining the very complexities its foods are based on. Instead, we can embrace learning about food as a natural part of the eating process, each meal an opportunity to deepen our understanding of ourselves and each other.

Jenny Dorsey is a professional chef, writer, and the founder of Studio ATAO, a nonprofit community think tank working at the intersection of food, art, and social impact. Bug Robbins is a non-binary queer illustrator obsessed with printmaking, folklore, and green witchcraft. Edited by Rachel Kreiter Fact-checked by Andrea López-Cruzado

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