#oatmeal energy bites

[mokacoffeepot]

Almond Joy Coffee Energy Bites Recipe

Almond Joy Coffee Energy Bites Recipe

[fullcravings]

Easy Chocolate Oatmeal Bites

[louisedespont]

No bake oatmeal raisin energy bites

[smarmychristopagan]

No bake oatmeal raisin energy bites

[shegetsburned]

꒰ఎ 🌸 ໒꒱ ㆍ ‘she’s just like candy, she’s so sweet’

── THEIR FAVORITE SMELL .ᐟ.ᐟ

when you wore that nectar and sweet peach body lotion for the first time, kento went crazy. it was during your vacation in the south together, you had just gotten out of the shower and the fruity scent graced his nose to leave a delicious imprint upon his nostrils. he walked to you, mesmerized, a careful hand trailing your back and you wonder why he seems in a trance when his eyes land on yours, heart pupils staring at your skin. before you know it, he’s removed your towel and has you all to himself in your bed. since that day, you never ran out of that lotion. there was always a bottle ready to use, graciously offered by none other than your husband who had fallen even deeper in your enchantment.

sukuna’s sense of smell is unmatched. you’ve never been worried about him losing you in a crowd, especially when you wear the exquisite honey and lemon body cream. it agitates his senses as he flies to your side. him who has known but blood and sweat now smells the sweetest scent he ever came upon. he is shamefully excited by the scent alone and the fact that your body wears it stimulates him even more. he’ll never admit it, though. he wonders what kind of spell you’re using when his body refuses to let go of you. he’s planting his nails into the fat of your ass and his fangs in the crook of your neck as he inhales the addictive perfume of the product.

when he comes home exhausted from work, higuruma delights himself in the charming coconut and coffee body lotion you use. the robust but addictive smell of fresh coffee beans mixed with the sweet aroma of coconut makes him want to devour you whole and gives him just enough energy to do so. throwing his suitcase aside, he entraps you in his embrace and buries his nose in between your boobs, placing hungry kisses upon your naked chest with desperate sighs. he has you trapped between his arms for the night and won’t let you go until he’s got enough of that heavenly scent.

you better believe choso is non-stop glued to your body every time you wear the oatmeal and shea butter body cream. you’re trying to leave the bed, but he has his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer — and be certain that his lips will never dare leave your skin. you taste like a comforting breakfast mixed with the softness of butter. your skin has never been this smooth and you’re clearly not the only one enjoying it when your man is sucking and biting into your flesh to savour the meal.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[linghuxcourtyard]

Snack Catalog #530

Oatmeal Energy Bar

vegan/ From office

This is made with 3 ingredients: oatmeal, maltose powder, and vegan floss.

Vegan floss are soy fiber stir-fry until dried, this particular brand has pumpkin seeds and sesame seeds.

They are nice and a little chewy. I found it strange that all the ingredients are dry, but it turns out the maltose powder liquefies when it is baked in the oven.

not bad, and I got the recipe, which seems easy enough. If I get some time and a oven, I might make some too.

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 26- Breakfast Table

this one is pretty short, but I hope you like it all the same!

Villain sat Hero down at the breakfast table. They put a steaming bowl of oatmeal in front of them. Hero sighed, their face somber. They knew it wasn’t just apples and cinnamon in there.

“Come now, Hero, breakfast is the most important meal of the day~” Villain said.

As they spoke, they sat down opposite Hero, with their own bowl of oatmeal. The terms of Hero’s captivity were clear, do as told, and nothing bad would happen to the city. If not, not only would Hero be punished, but the civilians as well. So, Hero picked up their spoon and took the first bite of breakfast. It was sickeningly sweet.

“Don’t look so glum, darling,” Villain said as they ate, “I made it just for you. Today is going to be a wonderful day!”

“For some of us,” Hero agreed, already feeling their body turn to lead.

“Really this is a win for both of us, you stay out of the way of my plans, and I give you everything you could ever want. A perfect transaction!”

“So you’ve been saying,” Hero slurred.

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’re exceptionally attractive,” Villain added.

Hero nearly choked on their breakfast, whether from shock or a lack of energy to swallow, they weren’t sure. Villain tutted, coming over and pounding on their back. Once the choking stopped, Villain offered Hero a bit of water, and they did manage to swallow that.

Hero fell limp in the chair, unable to lift the spoon to eat anymore. Villain cooed, picking them up in a bridal carry. They deposited Hero on the couch and put a TV remote in their hand, closing their fingers around it gently.

“That won’t wear off for a few hours, which gives me plenty of time to have some fun,” Villain said, “remember not to watch too much TV, I wouldn’t want those pretty eyes to get strained.”

Hero fell asleep just as soon as Villain left the lair.

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Tags:

@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit

[heartfullofleeches]

I’m obsessed with Carnis. How would they respond to reader making a really nice meal with like candles and flowers and the whole shebang?

"Carnis! Time to eat!"

Carnis hurries excitedly into the kitchen. They had hoped to get something on the stove before you got home, but exhaustrated all their energy cleaning up the living room earlier in the day and prepping the meat they planned to use for dinner prior to that. They pray you saw it on the top shelf- but as they enter the kitchen they note a surprising lack of the fragrance of cooked meat - picking up a hint of vanilla and strawberries in its stead. The same scent of the candles you found them sniffing after wandering off the last time you took them shopping with you.

The hybrid squints against the darkness of the room. Soft, flickering lights illuminate the table, and the display set around it. A small group of candles placed safely feet away from a bowl full of what looked to be cooked oatmeal, a smaller bowl of fresh fruit at its side. All their favorites too. Apples, bananas, raspberries. They become acutely aware of the emptiest in their stomach as the candles' flame reflects the glossy finish of freshly washed fruit.

Carnis flinches as the legs of a chair drag over the floor boards. You gesture towards the seat, patting its fluffy cushion. "Come on. Sit down before it gets cold."

The hunger in their eyes flickers to curiosity as they point at themselves. "For... me?"

You laugh as it they weren't stating the obvious. "Of course it's for you! You have to eat too, don't you?"

Carnis looks at their outstretched palms. Drops of water beat against their pale skin, eyes stinging as it falls. They place a hand to their cheek, wetness glazing their shaking fingers. They're... crying... Why? They only cry when bad things happen, but you've never done anything bad to them. The beat of their heart becomes irregular as well. It pumps so fast they feel it in their fingertips and hear it drum in their ears. What's happening? It scares them, but a piece of their mind remains at ease. That ease channels through the rest of their body as they breath in the scent of the candles. As you take their hand and guide them into the chair. As you feed them the first bite of their meal and giggle at the way their eyes light up.

It'd take a while for them to learn what that feeling truly was, but the longer they stayed with you - they realized it's what it meant to feel loved.

[nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki]

I made strawberries and cream oatmeal for a self-love spell.

This oatmeal not only nourishes your body but also supports your journey of self-love and acceptance, so it's a healthy and amazing dish that you can have for breakfast.

What you'll need to make strawberries and cream oatmeal for a self-love spell

1 cup rolled oats – Oats represent grounding and nourishment, helping you connect to your self-worth.

1 cup milk – Milk symbolizes nurturing and compassion, bringing softness to the spell.

1/2 cup water – Water is cleansing and promotes emotional healing.

1/2 cup fresh strawberries, sliced – Strawberries represent love and beauty, enhancing self-love energy.

2 tbsp. coconut cream – Cream symbolizes indulgence and luxury, reminding you to treat yourself kindly.

1 tsp vanilla extract – Vanilla represents sweetness and emotional balance.

1 tbsp. honey – Honey represents harmony and the sweetness of life, making it easier to attract positive feelings.

A pinch of cinnamon – Cinnamon adds warmth, protection, and helps spark inner confidence.

Instructions

In a medium saucepan, bring the water and milk to a boil. Stir in the oats and reduce the heat to a simmer.

While the oatmeal is cooking, stir it slowly and focus on your self-love intentions. Visualize your heart filling with warmth and compassion, and imagine radiating confidence and joy.

Stir in the sliced strawberries, thinking of love and self-worth blossoming in your life. Let them soften in the oatmeal, releasing their sweetness.

As you add the coconut cream and vanilla extract, say aloud (or in your mind) words of self-affirmation like: "I am deserving of love and care. I honor my own beauty and worth."

Add the honey, letting the sweetness remind you of the joy you bring to yourself. Feel the sweetness spread through the dish and your spirit.

Sprinkle some cinnamon on top for warmth, protection, and confidence.

Before you eat, say a little chant like: "By berries bright and sweet as cream, I honor myself in each waking dream. With every bite, as love's warmth grows near, I fill my heart and release my fear."

Enjoy the oatmeal in a peaceful space, and focus on nurturing your body and spirit with each bite. Take deep breaths, and let the spell’s energy settle within you.

[icedcoffeemom]

A NEW PERSON

H: 5’4 CW: 162.6bs GW1: 155 Gw2: 145 Gw3: 135 Ugw: 120

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DIET: 1000cal max. Things to include alternatives/day-to-day: soy/almond milk, oatmeal, brown rice, almonds, peanut butter, beans, Don’t make the meat the center of your meal, aim for a vegetarian-based diet.

EXCLUDE: added sugars, chips, too much oils/fats. No pop, energy drinks, overall NO junk!

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LIFESTYLE: be quieter, stop speaking to others unless spoken to. Focus on upcoming online classes, do it right this time. Embrace girly-ness and hyperfemininity! Take care of your hair, skin, and nails. (Don’t bite your nails ever again starting today!) put yourself together every single day, get dressed, be productive. Shave whole body once a week. Exfoliate body twice a week. Keep your living space clean and organized! Workout 5x weekly. No gossiping. Reconnect and build a relationship with God.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹

P.S. Call me a w@nnar3x!c all you want, I don’t care at this point ! I have tried and tried and tried so many times to do this the way everyone else here does, and guess what, I end up in a vicious cycle of binging-purging-fasting. And it’s miserable. So this is the way IM doing this. Don’t like it? You can block me babe 💋

[fullcravings]

Seedy Tahini Snack Bites (Nut-Free!)

[bra1nwashed]

Hello, you requested someone asking for your Swiss and Aeon HCs so here I am! Please, tell me all of them, I love reading headcanons for the ghouls

AHHHH OMG i swear every time someone asks me something that i know i know i forget immediately every time 😭

but also hiiiii! idk who u are cuz i've had a LOT of people pop up in my notes these past few days but like, hello!! :3

these definitely aren't all the ones i have bc these literally pop into my mind randomly throughout the day

also this is super long 😭

but uhmmm here u go :D

swiss stuff:

he's actually much more of a cat person than a dog person (he still likes dogs tho)

and like, don't get me wrong- he loves cats in general

but he loves the chaotic, crack head, stupid ones especially

they match his energy and he thinks they're super cute

i feel like he (along with mountain) were the types as kits to bring in random animals like raccoons, opossums, etc and then just carry it around

like bring the animals to [the] papa[s] and just be like "look what i caught! can we keep him?!"

he has a red lava lamp that he once got for christmas from sodo in his room but it doesn't work right bc he shook it up

as a kit, he used to google different ways to prank people and he'd go on chaos sprees (commonly joined by dew as well)

poor rain suffered the most of his antics

he wasn't really close with any of the ghouls or ghoulettes specifically when he was new to them

he still isn't

he loves all equally, even if the others aren't the same way

peed in a sink once when he was high + drunk

mountain's personal bedroom bathroom sink specifically

whenever he sees babies, he smiles big (it scares them sometimes)

used to have a major biting problem when he was younger

copia got him oral fidget toys

literally knawed on that shit constantly

likes the feeling of chewing rubber

has a very broad music taste

phantom/aeon stuff:

when he was newer and needed ppl around to make sure he wouldn't get himself in any kind of trouble, all of the ghouls and papa were busy

so they left him with the ghoulettes

and they all watched mean girls together

he genuinely really liked the movie

but he was really easily spooked when he was first summoned

so the part when regina george got hit with the bus jump scared him

secretly related to that one character who didn't go to the school in that scene in the gymnasium (i hope this is specific enough)

thinks liz gillies is super pretty

also has a very wide music taste

he and swiss have a playlist they made together on spotify of songs they like and it's so much shit mixed together it feels like a fever dream when u listen to it in order

has eaten bananas with peels on them a multitude of times

doesn't like oranges or limes

love lemons tho

once drank a thing of lemon juice in less under 10 minutes cuz he was bored

got sick asf

doesn't like headphones

he thinks they're too big so he prefers earbuds (wireless or wired doesn't matter to him)

had to get help from rain trying to figure out how bluetooth works

ended up teaching copia later

dew once dared him to drink two shot glasses worth of a mixture of hot sauce, mayo, peanut butter, and pickle juice for 20 monopoly dollars and phantom did it bc he thought it was real money

he doesn't mind most vegetables but he hates squash and zucchini, canned italian green beans, frozen carrots (he thinks they're soggy), and canned spinach

loves cranberries and cranberry flavored things

as well as pomegranate

isn't the biggest fan of cherries but loves the ones u get in jars for cheesecake toppings

bagel enjoyer

hates raisins

hates oatmeal

has thrown up numerous times after drinking cherry cough syrup

anywaysssss that's all i have for now :3

also i'm really sorry :( i know a lot of these are more like scenarios than HCs (i hope u still enjoyed tho!)

[sagescented]

There was a moment today, before the cleaners got here, when we were rounding up the Cats and I about passed tf out bad. Like, "passing out twice in the bathroom, hitting my head on the washing machine, and giving myself a concussion and needing to go to the ER in 2015" level of bad 😬 My Husband was not amused.

In my defense, I've been so nauseous that all I've had to eat in the last 3 days is a few fruit cups, a bowl of peanut butter and brown sugar oatmeal, some crackers, one bite of noodles from Blackened Chicken Alfredo, some Pistachios, a thing of String Cheese, one 20 oz Protein Coffee ... And not much else, honestly.

When everything makes you want to hurk because your medications have been screwed up and you've had to detox and then re-onboard twice now in 3 months, it's damned hard to eat anything. And when you can't eat, you don't have energy. Which is made even worse when you're in the middle of a Fibro flair 🫠

I love my body, I love my body, I love my body, I love my body, I love my body, I love my body, I swear to you that I love my body and I'm definitely not going to murder my Pharmacy or Insurance provider.

Anyways, I was able to eat a little more than usual today; I got down another bowl of Peanut Butter Brown Sugar Oatmeal my Husband made (with double the Peanut Butter- and this time there was more Oatmeal). I also managed to get down two Salmon Salad Sandwiches (canned Salmon, Onion, and Mayo on White Bread. Nothing fancy). Both of them have gone down ok at first, and then made me incredibly nauseous about half an hour after the fact. But hey! Progress is still progress. It's more (and more solid) food than I've been able to eat for like 3 days.

Really hoping this nonsense eases up soon. Nausea is like my least favorite symptom of any condition on the planet. I mean, I'm glad I'm not in excruciating physical and neurological pain this time thanks to the Steroid Injections (only neurological this time around!). But holy hell I would give my left foot for any symptom other than nausea 😭 It's the worst.

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun - Chapter 17

Trial and Error

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, eventual smut

Chapter Summary: Katya and Viktor finally go to scope out some boats for his Academy project. While at the harbor, she spies a mysterious figure harvesting purple stuff (they were out of Sunny-D), and nearly gets outted by an exuberant Annie. Nasha comes to The Last Drop to talk with Silco and Vander about an opportunity for the revolution.

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 5.5K

The water was warm. Perfect. Not borderline scalding like the Springs. So close to Katya’s own body temperature that it felt like an extension of her. If it weren’t for the way the water parted and lapped at her arms and chest, she wasn’t sure if she would’ve been able to detect it. That, and the rippling across the surface, distorting the starlight’s glittering reflection, confirmed the water’s presence. It was pitch-dark, save for the sparkles above, which shimmered and refracted below, making Katya feel as if she were swimming in space itself.

There was no edge, no horizon line. There never was in this dream. Just her in this infinite space. Her body never tired, her breath was never taken away by exertion. She just swam. Floated.

Sometimes she would hum or sing, and her voice would somehow simultaneously echo off the glittering walls she couldn’t see, and be absorbed by them. The sound thrummed inside her body, and vibrated off of her damp skin.

It was only ever her here. No Viktor splashing behind her, no papa or mama swimming ahead. In some ways, it was nice. In others, it was lonely.

She forged ahead, cutting through the water in a lazy stroke, before flipping on her back and gazing up at the pinpricks of light. She felt her long hair swirl and hover in the water beneath her, swaying like a tangle of kelp. Then, her skin prickled and her body hummed. Katya knit her thick brows together, rolling over and shifting her body to an upright, treading position (although, there really wasn’t a need to tread in this magick-dream liquid). She looked behind her and squinted, even though she knew the action was futile.

Was there someone else here? It felt like it, almost.

She parted her lips to call out.

Then her eyes opened, and she was back in her bed. Squirreled up in her new blanket. The weave was thick and warm, and soft against the skin of her bare legs. The bedroom was still dark, but that wasn’t unusual given the time she normally woke up, and for the Sumps in general. She stretched her hand out of its warm cocoon and pawed at the bedside table, looking for her pocket watch. Once her fingers curled around it, she drew it back and popped it open, eying the time.

Time to get up.

Reluctantly untangling herself, Katya rolled out of bed. She pulled on a pair of trousers and quietly padded out of her room.

By the time the kettle began singing, Viktor had staggered out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and bedheaded. His sister quietly greeted him as she turned the stove off and he teetered toward the kitchen table, sitting down heavily in his chair.

Katya poured the hot water into mugs of tea and bowls of oatmeal, and set them at their respective seats. They shared their breakfast in silence; Viktor eating very slowly, Katya longing for the herbs and spices of Enyd’s oxtail stew.

“I was thinking,” Katya said, stirring the last couple of spoonfuls around her bowl, “that after we go to the Shores, we could go back to the Springs.”

Viktor looked over his mug at her, interestedly.

“An afternoon swim before dinner?”

“You’ll swim with me?” he asked.

Katya took another bite of bland oats and nodded.

“I could go for a swim,” she said, thinking of her dream.

“We should get going then!” Viktor urged; his energy levels suddenly sparked. He gathered his empty dishes and hobbled to the sink, clumsily depositing them.

Katya chuckled, and followed suit.

The Shores – like the Promenade – had the benefit of sunlight. It reflected off the water’s surface in glittering swaths and sharp, blinding bursts. The air was without the dank funk of the Entresol and Sumps; brine and seaweed in its stead. The last bits of the season’s warmth hung on the breeze, ruffling hair and caressing cheeks. But the promise of the upcoming winter months was on the tail end of the wind; crispness and chill ghosting over the backs of bare necks, causing surprise shivers. As such, Katya had brought Viktor’s jacket, even though he argued and groaned that he didn’t need it. She kept it slung over her arm, but she warned him that when she saw gooseflesh ripple over his skin, the coat was going on. And being the younger brother, he was resigned to agree.

The siblings perched themselves on a heap of dry nets, piled on the Shores’ wharf. Katya was relieved that there wasn’t an Enforcer in sight. She dropped the rucksack she had packed in a thankful flumpf at their feet.

The harbor was still on the fuller side, boats not yet having been taken out for their fishing and trade duties. Dockhands, fisherman and mongers, and fishwives traveled to and fro across the water-sogged pier slats, their footsteps calming, echoing plods on the wood. No one paid the siblings any mind; there was work to be done.

Viktor fetched his notebook and pencil from the sack, along with their Papa’s old book on boats. It was a smaller text so Katya didn’t mind bringing it along.

“Here,” she said, holding a hand out. “I’ll hold on to the book.”

He passed it to her and cracked his steno pad open. Many of the pages inside had already been scribbled over – margin to margin, front and back. It warmed Katya’s heart for a reason she didn’t really understand. She smiled. Viktor flipped to a clean page, set the tip of his pencil on the parchment surface, and looked up, his eyes sweeping up and down the harbor. His sister could see in the intensity of his gaze that he was scrutinizing and memorizing the boats present. Their shapes and sizes, the materials they were made from, the mismatched materials that had been used to patch and repair.

He began slowly and carefully sketching a nearby tug boat, his pencil strokes becoming surer and darker as he went. Occasionally, he would write a note next to his sketch, equations and formulae. Katya watched as his eyes glazed over in intense focus, and how his jaw shifted side to side in concentration. A soft, proud smile pulled at her lips like warm taffy; that fondness slid down her shoulders and settled in between her shoulder blades.

The pair sat in companionable silence. Viktor mumbled to himself every now and again, Katya alternated between flipping through pages of the book in her lap, and letting her eyes lazily wander up and down the docks. The tide was beginning its leisurely return to the sea, and slowly, several of the boats in the harbor were taken out before the water became too shallow. She watched as barnacles and mussels that had glued themselves to the pier posts were slowly uncovered. Above, seabirds excitedly gathered in the sky, clicking and squawking their impending delight.

As the water receded, the algae blooms and scruffy marine vegetation became more noticeable. Slicks of slime green coated rocks and seaweeds draped and dripped lazily over them. Most of the plant life were varying shades of green and brown. For Trenchers, working at the water’s edge was really the only time they would see green in the Undercity. The leafy trees of Piltover couldn’t survive the deep dark of the Fissures. What plant life existed there was either equally dark or sickly pale.

There was one exception.

Not wanting to leave Viktor’s side, Katya strained her neck and squinted her eyes towards the mouth of the harbor. She remembered visiting the tidepools with her Papa; he had told her that the purple algae and flowers only grew there – at the opening of the sea, in the littoral caves that cut into the coasts of Piltover and her Undercity. They had fascinated Katya the most, the way they shimmered and seemed to glow from within.

As the tide receded, she thought she saw the purple glimmer on the rocks. It could’ve been a trick of the sun, but it made her smile all the same. She wished she could’ve shown Viktor, but the tidepools and slick crags of the shoreline were too treacherous for him and his cane.

She felt a small hand paw at her side. Turning back, she saw Viktor asking for the book. She passed it over, and then turned to look out past the harbor again. She blinked. A figure had appeared at the edge of the water. A tall, thin someone. In a dark cloak and a wide-brimmed sun hat. A basket was slung over their elbow. They knelt and pawed at the rocks, and puddles between. Occasionally, they would bring up a fistful of purple algae and deposit it into their basket.

Katya’s spine straightened and her brows pinched together. She’d never seen anyone gather it. Papa had told her that it was one of the few inedible marine flora, and its slimy texture and fickle constitution didn’t make it much good for anything else than looking pretty. She couldn’t imagine what someone would harvest it for. Even the flowers, when picked, lost their luster so quickly that they were wilted by the time one brought them home. She had remembered trying, and being very upset when her bouquet hung limply over the drinking glass she used as a vase.

The figure stood and, with steps that spoke of great practice, glided around the large rocks and out of sight. Katya chewed on the inside of her lip and scrunched her nose. The purple halo of the rocks was gone. Gathered up, for some unimaginable reason, into the stranger’s basket.

A little after noon, once Viktor had nearly filled his notepad with sketch after sketch, Katya suggested that they head for the Springs and Oases. Despite wanting to do this next part of their day, the boy grumbled a bit, struggling to extricate himself from the task he was absorbed in. She patiently waited as he finished his drawings and notes, reminding him in a soft voice to take his time. He finally handed his notebook to her, and she stuffed it and the textbook away in the rucksack.

They hopped off the pile of nets – both siblings taking a moment to stretch their legs and backs – and headed for the stairs that would guide them back into the edges of the Undercity. From there, they would wind through the crumbling boundaries of their home city to the Springs.

Once they were halfway up the stairs, a series of shouts from the docks cause both siblings to jump and look around. Katya’s hands gripped Viktor’s shirt tightly and her heart thundered, her eyes frantically looking back at the docks. A flurry of movement grabbed her eye, and the thudding of her heart lessened.

Down on the right side of the docks, near an ancient looking fishing trawler, Annie bounced furiously, waving her thin arms in the air. Beckett was at her side, mooring the small vessel.

“Katya!” Annie screamed.

Even from faraway, Katya could see the wide smile splitting the other woman’s face. She readjusted her hold on Viktor’s shirt and encourage him to keep walking up the stairs.

“Who’s that?” he asked, stumbling a bit as he tried to follow his sister’s instructions and get a look at whoever was yelling at them.

“A patient from the mines,” she lied, her jaw tight.

“Should we go say hello?”

“No, it’s fine,” Katya quickly replied, continuing to urge him up the stairs.

To satisfy her brother, and hopefully shut Annie up, she turned and waved back. And then continued to encourage Viktor away from the Shores.

It had been a long time since Katya swam in the Springs. She hissed in discomfort as she submerged her body in the near blistering water. Viktor giggled at her, and plunged his head underneath the surface. He burst back up in an impressive wave, chestnut hair plastered to his head. His white, crooked smile stood out from the pink of his skin as he egged her to go all the way under. He whooped and clapped when she did, and Katya appeared back above the water laughing.

Their joy rang off the wet rocks of the Springs. Vibrating through the water and humming on their wet skin.

Since Katya was in the pools with him, she allowed Viktor to explore some of the deeper waters. Not so deep that her own toes didn’t touch the bottom, but enough so that his kicks and strokes weren’t impeded by the Terra.

As he splashed and flailed, she took a couple of graceful strokes, reaching her arms over head and cutting through the water like a fish. Then she dove under, undulating her hips and flicking her legs. She swirled through the hot water with her eyes pinched shut, using her fingertips to feel her way. Her head pitched up and she broke through the surface, breathing in the warm, chronically-petrichor scented air. Like in her dream, she flipped on her back and lazily floated, staring up at the sandy colored stalactites above.

“Can you show me that one stroke again?” Viktor asked, as he paddled over.

Living in a port city, their parents had felt it would be important for their children to be able to swim. Luckily, this was a skill both their mama and papa had been adept at. Prior to Viktor’s birth, they would take Katya to the Oases and the small, cleaner beaches on the Undercity’s side of the Pilt, and teach her how to right herself in the water, to float, and to swim.

After Viktor was born, and their mother left, the beaches were swallowed up by chemical runoff. For most of the year, the water in the Oases was too chilled, and would cause Viktor’s limbs to cramp horribly. It didn’t help that the pools there were often full of rowdy, too-rough children who could not be mindful around the handicapped youngster. So, their papa had tried the Springs. Initially fearful that its water would be too hot for any of them – much less his son’s sensitive constitution – both he and Katya were relieved and elated that Viktor’s body responded well to the heat and the amped up buoyancy of the mineral-rich pools.

Together, Katya and her papa taught him different swimming strokes. While Viktor tried, his bent body couldn’t execute the movements as seamlessly; and he preferred just paddling and splashing. He had to live enough in his head most of the time. In the cradle and forgiving nature of water, he allowed himself to drop into his body, and connect with it, move it in ways he couldn’t do on land.

“The firelight one?” Katya asked, wiping her hair back from her face.

Viktor swam to a rock ledge, and clung to it as he nodded.

Taking a breath, she reached out in front of her, aligning her fingertips with her shoulders and then cut her arms down through the water, pulling her upper body beneath the surface. As she propelled forward, her elbows popped up and back, pushing the water behind her hips and legs. Her thumbs grazed the outside of her thighs, hips rolling and legs kicking, before she swung her arms back out of the water and repeated the stroke.

She stopped short of the pool’s edge, and turned to her brother.

“How was that?” she asked with a smile.

Viktor beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Can you show me again? Slower this time?”

She did the best she could to slow her movements so he could watch and take mental notes. After a couple more laps, he paddled to the pool’s center and tried the stroke for himself. Katya treaded at his side offering adjustments when they were necessary.

“Keep your legs straighter when you kick . . . palms facing the ground . . . tuck your belly up as you go under . . . “

It was a harder maneuver even for those who were able-bodied, but Viktor did well despite his limitations. He tried again and again, steadily improving until he started to get fatigued, and his form began to suffer. Panting, he flopped onto his back and lazily kicked.

“It is strange being wet and sweaty at the same time,” he mused through gulps of breath.

Katya chuckled. “Yes, it is.”

It wasn’t long before they toweled off and redressed, heading home before the sun went low and made the Sumps even darker. On their way through an Undercity market, they passed a butcher’s counter and Katya’s mouth watered at the sight of oxtails, all lined up in rows of two. Her heart clenched at the memory of her shared supper. She wished she could’ve bought them, but even for scrap meat it was too expensive.

The next stall was a fishwife’s, the crates around her laden with various sea life. At one end of her counter, a bucket sat with melted ice. Katya peered inside and saw two scraggly tentacles.

“They’re the last of my batch,” the fishwife rasped. “No one wants ‘em.”

Katya chewed her lip. She was tired of oats and beans. She thought of what Enyd had said about teaching herself to cook.

“A lot of trial and error.”

“How much?” Katya asked.

“Ten cogs.”

“Ten cogs! Kecáŝ!”Katya muttered, disbelieving. Viktor let out a small gasp and shifted uneasily next to her. “You just said that nobody wants them. I’ll give you four cogs.”

“Five.”

Katya pursed her lips and grumbled a moment before conceding. The fishwife plucked the tentacles from their icy bath and wrapped them up. She thrust the wet package into Katya’s hands, and swiped the coins from her other palm. The fishwife slurred something under her breath, and it soured the young woman’s mood enough to forgo saying thank you.

As she ushered Viktor along, she noticed small bundles of herbs placed on the corner of the counter. Her eyes flicked back to the fishwife, who was busy counting her sales, and then back to the herbs. Quick as a wink and silent as a secret, Katya’s hand snapped up a bundle and stuffed it in her pocket.

Once home, Viktor limped to the shower and Katya began preparing their dinner.

Trial and error. Trial and error.

She kept repeating it to herself like a mantra as she cut and cooked the tentacles. She melted a scoop of cooking grease in a pan and added the appendages. They snapped and spat and curled. Their color, a dull, rocky gray, shifted into a brighter blue as they sat in the pan. The apartment took on the scent of the sea. The oil around them began to brown and she added the bouquet of herbs. She wasn’t sure if this was how one was supposed to do it. . .

Trial and error. Trial and error.

The smell of woods and something bright – close to lemon – joined the briny scent of the tentacles. A forest butted up against an ocean.

One thing Katya did know was that overcooked tentacles turned rubbery. She turned the stove off and swished the pan back and forth, coating the seafood in the herbaceous fat.

“Smells good!” Viktor said excitedly, appearing in the kitchen.

“I hope it’s good,” she prayed. “Go take your seat.”

He hobbled to the table and sat down as she grabbed plates, and placed a tentacle on each one. She carefully plucked the now damp and muted herbs from the pan. Were they supposed to eat these, too? Could they? She shrugged, put the bundle on her plate, and sat opposite her brother.

Initially, they took tentative bites at their dinner, tasting and testing. It wasn’t bad!

Trial and error.

Fatty and meaty in a way beans couldn’t compare with. The hot grease filled them in a different way than oats. The flavor the herbs imparted made the tougher sections of the tentacles worth chewing through.

Katya untied the herbs, and brought a limp, leafy stem to her nose and sniffed.

“Did the fishwife give you those, too?” Viktor asked.

“Yes. She tossed them in to make up for her unreasonableness.”

She popped the herb into her mouth and immediately spat it back out. Viktor laughed.

Trial and error.

When Silco and Enyd entered The Last Drop that evening, both were taken aback by the crowd. Even for a Saturday night, the tavern was bursting at the seams.

“Are any of these girls from the mill?” Silco asked, leaning close to his mother’s ear.

Enyd’s eyes swept over the crowd. It was difficult to see when there were so many bodies, and since she was so short. It also didn’t help that she had never really committed any other face from Clapper to memory, aside from Amos, Birdy, and Nasha.

She shook her head and raised her voice enough for Silco to hear.

“I don’t think so. I don’t see Nasha, anyway.”

She suddenly pulled away, and hid her face in the crook of her elbow as a sudden wave of coughing overtook her. She recovered and Silco guided them through the throngs of patrons to the bar. They were surprised to see that it was not Vander behind the counter, but Benzo. He hobbled to and fro, addressing customer’s needs, filling orders, and collecting dirty tankards. His color and disposition seemed better; his mood probably bolstered by the fact that he was no longer secluded to a bed.

“Where’s Vander?” Silco asked

He and his mother squeezed in next to Sevika who was seated on a middle stool, sipping the foamy head off her beer. She nodded in greeting.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Benzo replied with a sassy head bobble. He picked up a glass hidden beneath the counter and took a swig.

Silco’s lip curled and he spat, “Didn’t Kat tell you not to drink!”

Benzo blinked, confused. Sevika’s eyebrows quirked with interest.

“Kat? Oh, ya mean Kat-YA? Since when’re you on a nickname basis with ‘er?”

“Are you guys talking about Katya?” Annie cried, suddenly appearing with an empty serving tray.

Silco, Enyd, Sevika and Benzo all jumped at the young woman’s sudden entrance. She slammed the tray on the countertop, her pretty face clouded in a bitter expression.

“Janna, Annie,” Sevika grumbled, rolling her shoulders.

“She totally blew me off today!”

“You saw her?” Silco asked.

“Yeah. At the Shores with her little brother. I was with Becks and saw them leaving. So, I called and waved, and she barely looked at me,” she huffed, flicking one of her braids over her shoulder.

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” Enyd offered. “She and her brother were probably trying to keep a schedule.”

Annie rolled her eyes, dissatisfied with this theory.

“She coulda said ‘hello’ at least,” she grumbled. Pushing her tray across the bar, she told Benzo, “The guys playing with Tolder want another round.”

As Benzo went about pouring a couple fresh pints, Enyd turned to Sevika.

“Why aren’t you at your father’s table playing cards?”

Sevika slurped her beer, silver eyes glancing over at her father. He was engrossed in his hand, smoking a cigarillo and leaned back in his seat. A small mound of coins was piled on his side of the table. The two other Trenchers were pitched forward, their noses in the fan of their cards.

“He told me he didn’t need help with those two,” she answered with a sly smile. “Good thing, too. I wanna sit in on this meeting.”

The thin line of Silco’s lips tightened, and he repeated his initial question.

“Where’s Vander?”

“He’s in the basement,” Benzo said, placing overfilled glasses onto Annie’s tray. “Playin’ with ‘is new toys. I told ‘im I could watch th’bar. Tired of bein’ cooped up anyhow.”

Enyd leaned toward the large man and whispered, “Have you seen Nasha? The girl we are supposed to be meeting with?”

Benzo finished loading up Annie’s tray and waved her off.

“I don’ know ‘er. An’ no one’s come up askin’ fer you or Van,” he replied, shaking his head. His face suddenly split into a grin, and he added, “But not fer nothin’ all o’ this,” he nodded toward the bustling bar floor, “is mostly people drawn here by the Children rumors.”

“So, the plan worked then,” Silco said, satisfied, eying the milling bodies.

Benzo snorted. “Yeah, every now n’ again that coal-dust addled brain o’ yours can come up with a good’un. People been comin’ in, pissin’ n’ moanin’ ‘bout the increased Enforcer activity; n’ askin’ if they can help.”

Silco let the insult slide, too distracted by the new numbers of Brothers and Sisters before him. He beamed at his mother and Sevika.

“Ope!” Benzo hiccupped behind them. “This your girl? She’s comin’ up like she means business.”

Silco and Enyd directed their attention towards the front of the bar. Indeed, Nasha stood a few feet from the door, her head craned over the crowd, eyes scanning. She had removed her bonnet and changed her drab work smock. Instead, she glittered and stood out. She’d pulled her hair into two, large puffs that haloed her head. Her clothes were an artful patchwork of deep, jewel-toned fabrics and brass fastenings. Clearly designed and stitched by her, as they molded to her tall and broad frame perfectly. And because it was unlikely any garment shop in the Undercity carried such things.

She spied Enyd and began gliding toward the bar. Patrons parted readily, some moved by the girl’s innately intimidating energy, and some because they didn’t want to be pierced by the pointed shoulder pads of her jacket. As she neared, they could see that she had literally painted her face. Purposeful and meticulous lines and dots of white and yellow accented her eyes and cheeks.

“Hi Ms. Enyd!” Nasha exclaimed brightly. “I almost didn’t see you.”

“Something I’ve struggled with my whole life,” the older woman joked, her arms flourishing at her sides to present her petite stature.

“Nasha, this is my son, Silco,” she introduced. “This is Benzo, and Sevika.”

Silco politely nodded, while Benzo gave her a finger wiggling wave. Sevika seemed frozen, her eyes glued to Nasha’s face, her jaw slack. A furious stripe of coral bloomed over her nose and cheeks.

“HI!” she cried, far too late. Her body jerked as she suddenly came back online, and she knocked her tankard over. “Oh, shit.”

The blush on her face deepened, and spread to her forehead and down her cheeks. She righted her glass and helped Benzo mop up her mess.

Nasha chuckled and turned back to Enyd.

“Where should we go to talk?”

“Vander’s in the basement,” Silco answered. “We’ll go down there. It’s quieter.”

Carefully threading through people in the crowd, he led Nasha, his mother, and Sevika (who tailed behind after pushing the sodden pile of towels over the bar) to the Drop’s private quarters, and then to the basement.

As the joyful din of the tavern faded, it was replaced by repeated deep, muted thumps, heavy breathing, and occasional grunts.

“Should we come back later?” Nasha joked.

Sevika giggled. Then snorted.

“Shit. Sorry,” she moaned, her face turning red again.

“No, come on,” Silco said, unphased by their guest’s unseemly implication.

He led them to the stockroom, and there they found a shirtless, rumpled Vander, gleaming with sweat. On his hands were the bulky gauntlets he’d picked up from Mek’s the day before. Before him was a large, heavy sack of flour that he had tied to a rope and affixed to the room’s rafters with a rudimentary pulley system. He was punching the bag with such ferocity that it swung to and fro, back and forth. Vander ducked, bobbed, and weaved as his adversary came at him, before laying into it with more hits. The bag, while a sturdy weave, was beginning to split and tear, trails of white flour spilling out like sand in an hourglass.

“Vander!” Silco yelled.

Despite being a mountain of a man, he jumped, clanking the gauntlets together and spinning around to face his impromptu audience.

“Oh! Hey!” he panted, a sheepish grin on his lips. His eyes suddenly landed on Nasha and he exclaimed, “Oh, shit! Is it that late already? Sorry! I musta lost track o’ time.”

He dropped the gauntlets on the floor, and hurried over to a stack of crates that he’d left his shirt on.

“That’s a waste of perfectly good flour, Vander,” Enyd admonished. She let her motherly disappointment of food waste over take her, instead of worrying about him practicing fighting. It was an easier and less complicated thing to focus on.

“I know, Ms. E. ‘M sorry,” Vander breathed, wiping his face with his balled-up shirt. “It was th’most Enforcer-like thing I could find. I wanted t’practice usin’ ‘em before I actually needed ‘em.”

Enyd’s jaw tensed and her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth.

“Can I try them?” Sevika asked, stepping forward and picking one of the gauntlets up.

“You fight, too, huh?” Nasha purred, eyes raking up and down the other’s body. “Is that how you got that figure?”

“Um,” Sevika warbled, her blush returning yet again.

“Let’s get to business, actually,” Silco said, stepping up to the flour bag and cutting its rope with the knife he kept in his sleeve.

The already split bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, and the seams on one side gave. Flour poured out in a misty avalanche that made Enyd put a bereaved hand to her forehead.

“So, yer Nasha?” Vander said, settling his hips onto a crate. “Enyd said ye got some intel on a crooked Piltie?”

“They’re all crooked,” Silco muttered, coming to stand at his Brother’s side.

Vander’s skin prickled at his proximity. He both wished he had put his shirt back on – instead of using it as a towel – and he was glad for the one-less-layer of closeness.

Nasha’s gaze dropped and she walked forward, scuffing her pointed-toed shoes through the flour.

“You’re really going to try and secede from Piltover?” she asked finally.

The flirty mask she’d entered with fell, and she fixed the two men with a firm, demanding look beyond her years.

“Not try,” Silco corrected. “We will gain our independence from them.”

Nasha lifted her chin, regarding him carefully.

“My aunt and I settled in the Undercity about ten years ago,” she said. “We left Noxus because she disagreed with their . . . expansionist politics. With their brutality. Our coin only got us as far as Piltover. The Land of Progress, we had heard. We didn’t have the means to live on their gilded streets; we had to move into their slums. And we’ve never been able to get out. We traded one myopic nation for another.”

She paused, and then added, “I want this information to be put to good use. I want there to be progress on the other side of it.”

“And there will be,” Vander promised. “When Zaun stands together, there will be.”

Nasha seemed satisfied with this. She told the small group what she had imparted to Enyd a couple days prior, and more. She told them about this Topsider’s money problems. About how he was going to pay his gambling debts with stolen coin. About how he was forging curtains and documentation to cover his tracks. About how his ‘package’ would be sent via airship the week after next. And about how he would be securing a private crew to deliver said package.

Some details were still vague, or unknown. Despite this, Vander, Silco, and Sevika quivered with excitement, and Enyd listened carefully. Nasha promised to flush out as much information as she could, and would bring it to the next meeting of the Children of Zaun.

“Thank ye so much fer this, Nasha,” Vander said, his face creased with relief.

“I want a free nation as much as any Sump-born Trencher,” she said. “You should be thanking Ms. Enyd. She’s the one who got me here.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sevika chuckled. “Silco had to get his passion and doggedness from somewhere.”

It was Enyd’s turn to blush. A light, delicate pink that glowed under her pale skin.

“I just want that money back in the hands . . . of Zaunites. Where it should be,” she said quietly.

The rest agreed.

“If ye want,” Vander said, turning back to Nasha, “if ye head back up t’the bar, Benzo’ll give ya a drink. On th’house. It’s the least we can do fer you.”

Their new member hummed thoughtfully, gently swaying side to side. She reached out and twirled a loose piece of hair from one of Sevika’s buns.

“Show me the way?”

Sevika gawked at her for a moment, before saying, “Yeah. Sure.”

Very overwhelmed and pleased, she led Nasha from the storeroom and up to the bar.

“They’re not of age, you know,” Silco said, elbowing Vander’s arm lightly.

The larger man did his best to seem unphased by the contact.

He tossed a hand carelessly through the air and said, “It’s fine. It’s not like Enforcers are comin’ in here t’card people anyway.”

He winked at his Brother.

Enyd’s mouth split in a proud smile, looking at the two men in front of her.

“The bar is too full of revolutionaries to fit any Enforcers in it anyway.”

Notes: Heeeeey! Hope you enjoyed the cuteness at the start of the chapter because things are gonna start to become less sweet here on out. Things are also gonna start to pick up, too! It's time for this revolution to kick it into high-gear. It's also about dang time for things to pick up between Silco and Kat, no?

If you've made it this far, please comment and reblog! Or visit my askbox. I'm dying to talk with you about this story. Hugs n' kisses!

Coming Up Next: Silco can't wait to tell somebody about this opportunity! Katya seems a good a person as any! The Academy Board makes their decision regarding Rynweaver's concerns. Katya and Heimerdinger go toe-to-toe

Next Chapter

Tag list: @dreamyonahill @pinkrose1422 @altered-delta @beardedladyqueen @truthandadare

[thehanalia]

START THE DAY WELL

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