#popular-rice-dishes
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unhonestlymirror · 28 days ago
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Paradoxically but as much as we love&cherish bread in Eastern Europe, as much as we bake it good - we also eat much less bakery and other gluten-containing stuff than Western&Northern Europe... I had an impression that people on the North&West eat sandwiches, croissants, pasta, noodles etc. on breakfast, lunch and dinner... which is crazy!!! If that's how you feed daily in Eastern Europe, people just gonna assume you're poor and unable to afford normal nutrition.
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spicyvegrecipes · 4 months ago
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Paneer Butter Masala Recipe – How to Make Delicious Paneer Butter Masala at Home
Paneer Butter Masala Paneer Butter Masala, a popular Indian dish featuring paneer cooked in a luscious tomato-based gravy with aromatic spices.Paneer Butter Masala (Paneer Makhani, Butter Paneer) is one of the most popular Indian curries served worldwide. It is a rich and creamy curry where paneer cubes (Indian cottage cheese) are simmered in an onion tomato gravy. This is one of the most…
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an-asuryampasya · 1 year ago
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[ID: comment by op in all caps reading "Rice discourse! Everybody kill each other"
/end ID]
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dgiterart · 3 months ago
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Persian Miku!?
In traditional Mazani clothing from persia!  
More info⬇️⬇️
Mazandaran province  is one of the 31 provinces of Iran. Its capital is the city of Sari . Located along the southern coast of the Caspian Sea and in the adjacent Central Alborz mountain range.Mazandaran is a major producer of farmed fish, and aquaculture provides an important economic addition to traditional dominance of agriculture. Another important contributor to the economy is the tourism industry, as people from all of Iran enjoy visiting the area.
Language: The population is overwhelmingly Mazandarani, with a minority of Gilaks, Azerbaijanis, Kurds, Georgians, Armenians, Circassians, Turkmen  and others, Mazandarani people have a background in Tabari ethnicity and speak Mazandarni.
Culture( literature) : In the Persian epic, Shahnameh, Mazandaran is mentioned in two different sections. The first mention is implicit, when Fereydun sets its capital in a city called Tamishe near Amol:
بیاراست گیتی بسان بهشت.................... به جای گیا سرو گلبن بکشت
از آمل گذر سوی تمیشه کرد .............. نشست اندر آن نامور بیشه کرد
And when Manuchehr is returning to Fereydun's capital, Tamisheh in Mazandaran (known as Tabarestan), after his victory over Salm and Tur.
Arash the Archer  is a heroic archer-figure of Iranian mythology. According to Iranian folklore, the boundary between Iran and Turan was set by an arrow launched by Arash, after he put his own life in the arrow's launch. The arrow was traveling for days before finally landing on the other side of the Oxus on the bark of a walnut tree hundreds of miles away from the original launch site atop a mountain
Music and dance:
Music in this region relates to the lifestyle of the inhabitants, and the melodies revolve around issues such as the forests, cultivation or farming activities and herding. The most famous dance of this area is the Shomali dance, not forgetting the stick dance that the men perform. Popular music in the province, known as the Taleb and Zohre, Amiri Khani and Katuli.
Cuisine :
The cuisine of the province is very rich in seafood due to its location by the Caspian Sea, and rice is present in virtually every meal. Mazandarani cuisine is diverse between regions; the cuisine of coastal regions is different from mountainous regions, as people in the Alborz usually use the indigenous herbs and coastal people use the dishes of fish and Caspian Mazandaran rice with vegetables.
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katyaapekina · 2 years ago
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Ratatouille Provençale - Fruits and Vegetables
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auntie-cosima · 2 years ago
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Coconut Chicken
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bishalpaul · 2 years ago
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cloudcountry · 4 months ago
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I just discovered your writing and I love how you write Idia! If requests are open, could you write Idia with an S/O that cooks for him? It's heavily implied that Idia has depression and is very thin do to his lack of self care and malnutrition, but since he started dating he gains some weight and gets a bit insecure about it but reader comforts him because they're just happy that's he's eating healthy
SUMMARY: idia is starting to eat healthier and put on weight, which spawns new insecurities. you help him through it.
COMMENTS: i'm so unhinged about this request please. PLEASE. do not look at me right now im in SHAMBLES. you've saved my life with his request. IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOREVER I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 45 MINUTES IM LOSING IT. THIS BAD BOY CAN FIT SO MUCH NON SEXUAL INTIMACY IN IT. CRYING.
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In the beginning of your relationship, getting Idia to eat and drink was like pulling teeth. You didn’t want to force it—Idia knew how he felt far better than you, and making him do something he didn’t want to was just cruel. You knew from the start that if he didn’t want to eat, he wouldn’t, and even after consulting Ortho you didn’t notice any changes in his attitude towards eating. You reminded him to drink water constantly and brought him little snacks, but the water bottles remained mostly full and the snacks were unopened. While you managed to coax another few sips of water out of Idia, the snacks were still a no-go and his vitamin drinks won the day once again.
It took until the two of you were second years for him to consider eating more, and you were so delighted that you began to cook for him. Although he still gained most of his nutrients from those vitamin drinks he’d always drink in place of meals, you were so proud of him when he started eating the small portions you’d set out for him. Each container had four sections, one full of dried fruits, one with nuts, one with vegetables, and the last with meat. You always wrote him a note telling him how proud of him you were, encouraging him to eat the whole thing but letting him know he could stop eating whenever. It was more of a snack than anything, but he’d eaten it, the whole thing, and you felt so moved you’d almost cried.
Idia never thought it was that much a deal, even when you started gradually increasing his portion sizes into your third year at NRC, always replying to your praise with bashful mumbles and scoffs, twisting his beautiful hair into knots as a nervous habit. He would finish his snacks and bashfully ask for more, turning his pink cheeks away from you when you’d beam and tell him you’d be on it right away. Noodle dishes were popular, along with sweet chicken recipes, and anything with rice or pasta. You avoided using meats like pork or beef or anything that wasn’t light like poultry. Idia always favored things that went down easy, not hearty meals that left you feeling stuffed (and, of course, you never fed him sushi due to his dislike of raw fish.)
He was drinking more water as the years went on, too—by the time you came to collect his dishes and figure out if he wanted more food or not, you’d catch a glance of a half empty water bottle and feel your heart fluttering in your chest. It made you so happy to see him eating and drinking healthier. Even if he complained about needing to go pee more often (which took out of his gaming time, oh the dramatics) you could tell he felt better. It had been a journey of three years but you and him were making some serious progress together, and you couldn’t be more proud.
To celebrate just how proud of him you were, you’d gotten Idia a small chocolate cake to go with his lunch, and you were delivering it a bit early to surprise him.
Balancing all of the food on one hand, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you punch in the security code to his room (it changed every day and he always texted you the new one, reassuring you that your messages had been encrypted ten times over so nobody could even chip at the defenses, not that you were worried about someone hacking your phone in the first place.) The door opens with its usual mechanical woosh and shuts behind you the second you step inside, immediately locking again.
“Idia, I bought you a gift today!” you cheer, setting the containers down on his bed.
You turn around to face the rest of his room before stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with very wide eyed, shirtless Idia. He’s clutching his shirt to his chest, trying to hide as much of him as he possibly can, but the way the fat of his stomach pinches and rolls at his side could still be seen past the fabric. Your mouth forms a small o shape as you stare, taking him in.
“Stop staring!” he yells, and it's only then that you notice the tears in his eyes and the pink borderline red flickers in his flames, “Get out!”
He throws himself into the gamer chair, spinning it enough so that the back of it faces you. You can see him curling up into a little ball, struggling to get his shirt on in the state he’s in.
“Idia, wait!” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.
Soft sniffles fill the room, and it breaks your heart.
“Why are you here early?” he snaps, still not coming out from his hiding place.
“I bought you a miniature cake. You’ve been eating more lately and I’m proud of you for that.” you say softly, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not going to come over there, darling. Don’t worry. This is a safe space, you know? I would never judge you.”
Idia is silent for a few beats before he speaks again.
“Maybe...maybe I should stop eating.” he murmurs, and the pain that shoots through your heart makes you gasp.
“Idia, no.” you plead, gentle even though you’re panicking, “What’s making you feel this way? You’ve been doing so well, you’ve told me how good you’ve been feeling this past year because you’re eating healthier, what changed?”
“I look like this!” he spits out, and there’s so much self loathing in his tone it brings tears to your eyes as well.
“You look beautiful, darling, you always have. What about yourself do you not like?” you plead, hoping and praying he’ll open himself up to you.
“I’ve gained weight. I’m not as skinny anymore. I look gross.” he peeks out from behind his chair and your heart breaks at how bloodshot his eyes are, “I don’t...want you to see me like this and leave me.”
“My love...” you keep his gaze, leaning as close as you can to him without leaving the bed, “I love you no matter what you look like, you know that right? I love you as a person. You will always, always look lovely to me. I love you. I don’t love a perfect version of you I made up in my head. Every single insecurity you have, I love, because they aren’t flaws. They’re just you.”
You let him take your words in, listening to his heavy breaths before you stand up.
“Darling...can I see you?” you ask carefully, “I want to see you.”
He hesitates.
“Promise me you won’t be disappointed.” Idia’s voice cracks mournfully, like he’s already accepted a fate that will never befall him.
“Never.” you answer immediately.
Your breath catches in your throat when he shamefully moves away from his gaming chair, staring at the ground to avoid looking at you. Your heart hits the ceiling with how light it feels, your lungs contracting and your body growing warm. Oh, he’s ethereal.
You take in the parts that he hates—the creases of his neck and his soft pecs (his nipples are blue, you note, and honestly that doesn’t surprise you), the rolls of his stomach and the fiery trial of hair that leads to his pelvis. You take in the blue glow under his arms and the way the fat of his upper arm folds into his shoulder, and his way his stomach hangs a little over the waistband of his pants. You take it how his arms are bigger now, whether that be from growth or the added weight you don’t know, but what you do know is that all of this beauty was hiding under his hoodie for the past three years. Probably even longer.
“You’re beautiful.”
And your voice breaks as a single hand covers your mouth, hearts in your eyes as you finally, finally make eye contact with Idia, his hair sparking and popping like solar flares as the flames turn pink.
You love that pink.
“B...Beautiful!?” Idia jerks back, looking so scared and ashamed and confused, “What are you talking about!? Beautiful is for men in otomes with eight pack abs, I’m no ikemen but I’m not stupid and how could you ever call me something like that—!?”
“Idia Shroud, you’re beautiful!” you shout, your voice far louder than you intended and it cracks again because oh, you’re so emotional, how could this man think he’s anything but beautiful?
“...what?” he whispers, shirt still clenched in his hands like a lifeline, “You...you don’t want to leave me?”
What you want to do is ask why you ever thought he’d leave you in the first place.
What you do instead, is tell him no.
And you stay.
You don’t make an excuse to leave or try to let him down slowly. You stay in his room and you ask to hug him, you stay in his room and you embrace him so tenderly when he says yes, you stay in his room with him and you kiss his temple, holding all of the extra fat he didn’t come with when you fell in love with him in your arms, loving him all the same even though he’s changed.
He doubts you’ve ever called someone beautiful as many times as you’re calling him that right now.
So Idia shuts his eyes and buries his face in your shoulder, hiding his face and his body and his sobs from the rest of the world in the safety of your arms.
You really will love him no matter what.
He doesn’t know what to do.
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I AM SO TIRED OF PEOPLE ASSOCIATING ALASTOR WITH ONLY JAMBALAYA SO HERE ARE OTHER CREOLE DISHES YOU HEATHENS
Fanfiction and Comic creators, this is for you especially.
Crawfish Étouffée
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This beautiful dish was invented in Breaux Bridge Louisiana, where our favourite radio star is from! Although it's invention is attributed the Herbet Hotel in the 1950s -after Alastors death- it is a classic.
Crawfish Étouffée has a sauce typically made from a blonde roux with that classic cajun seasoning. It contains the Holy Trinity of cajun cooking too: bell peppers, onions and celery. The main meat of this dish is crawfish tails and it is usually served with carbs like cornbread, cajun rice or vegetables such as green beans and potato salad.
It is chock full of flavour, and a filling inexpensive dish for low income families - which I believe Alastor is from.
Some alternatives to the crawfish are chicken and shrimp.
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The difference between Étouffée and Gumbo.
These two often get mixed up, and I understand, they're both classic Bayou dishes. Here's how to differentiate them.
Texture: Both dishes use shrimp, chicken, or crawfish tail broth. BUT Jumbo has a thicker consistency, it's made from a dark roux and it tends to use more liquid to remain stew-like.
Flavour: Gumbo and Étouffée both use Cajun seasoning, but due to Étouffées blonde roux, it has a lighter, sweeter taste than the darker, fullness of flavour in Gumbo.
Meat: Gumbo uses a variety of meats at the same time (often shrimp and sausage are key components), as mentioned in the alternatives above, Étouffée typically does not.
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2. Red Beans and Rice
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We're on a roll guys! This is another dish from Louisiana! Although, it is specifically associated with New Orleans, where Alastor hosted his radio show. It has a fascinating history, partly due to it's African and French/Spanish routes - But it was also a struggle meal during the Great Depression. It was originally a Creole, not Cajun dish.
(Note: Red Beans and Kidney Beans are different legumes)
This dish also contains the Holy Trinity, as well as bay leaves, oregano, cayenne pepper, garlic powder and more. Its protein comes from Andouille sausages, but like Gumbo, a variety of meats are used. If you want Alastor to be traditional about it, he should make it on a Monday incorporating the left over ham bones from Sunday dinner. It is also complimented with long grain white rice and green beans, amongst many other things.
Considering Alastor witnessed the Stock Market Crash of 1929 -which led to the Great Depression - There is no way he hasn't come across this dish before.
3. Creole Bread Pudding
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The queen of Creole Dessert has arrived. Can you guess where she's from? DING-DING-DING! That's right! New Orleans Louisiana baby! Recipes of this treat have been recorded since 1885, so it suffices to say she's a classic.
Like most bread puddings, it is made by combining stale bread (preferably French), beaten eggs and milk. However, this variation often has an incredible amount of vanilla extract. What it will be complimented with varies from person to person. Some examples are: Whipped meringue and whisky, raisins and apple, or walnuts and butter.
Although not as popular in the modern day, I like to imagine this is something Mimzy, Rosie and Alastor might share together on a day out.
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There you go! I hope you enjoyed this - but more importantly I hope this helps people create a more diverse version of those cosy Alastor cooking scenes that I love.
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asidian · 3 months ago
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Set breakdown time! Next up: Niko's room.
As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!
1: Niko's mom's name! This part is her and Niko's surname. The kanji are 佐々木.
佐 – sa, meaning help or aid
々 – an iteration mark. When you see this, basically it means "exactly what the last one said, one more time." So another sa meaning help or aid
木 – ki, meaning tree
It's really neat that they picked a last name for her that doubles down on her role in the narrative. Just like Niko is there to support and help other characters in whatever way they seem to need, her surname hammers it home by including 佐 not once but twice.
2: Riza (リザ) Niko's mother's given name. Somewhat odd here is that it's written in katakana and not kanji. Without getting sidetracked too much (you can pop over here to read more if you're interested) most Japanese people write their names in kanji.
Katakana seems like a bit of a strange choice here, unless a) Niko for some reason doesn't know the kanji for her own mother's name (weird, given that she's in high school) b) her mother is a foreigner (a possibility; foreigners usually write their names in katakana) c) the set designer/whoever prepped the letters didn't know the appropriate kanji for "Riza" (seems unlikely, given how accurate all the rest of this is) or d) some sort of personal habit. An interesting side note is that her letter to Niko also puts Niko's name in katakana.
3: Cutesy stationery, used for marking your place in a document or book
4: A cute blue purse!
5: Watermelon! Judging by the shiny material and placement near the other bag, I'm going to guess this is another purse
6: Niko's clothes :>
7: Pink luggage
8: Lots of instant noodles
9: A rice cooker
10: Rice vinegar
11: This girl LOVES her some plants
12: Probably food items…? The one on the right looks like it might be a five-pound bag of rice, but I don't recognize the brand
13: Lots of unwashed dishes
14: A toaster oven
15: Chopsticks
16: A cute octopus pillow. I think I saw someone mention that it's from Ikea :>
17: She often leaves dirty dishes sitting on the bedside table
18: A painting of what seems to be a skyscape
19: Brightly colored pillows
20: Metal art in the shape of a moon
21: A decorative window hanging
22: More plants :)
23: Candles
24: Her tv
25: Cute pens with pompoms on the end
26: Regular tape
27: A cute cat statue
28: Marble Pop Ramune, strawberry flavor. Ramune is a type of soda that's a popular festival drink in Japan. It's sealed with a  glass marble and you have to pop the marble down into the little catch basin before you can drink it.
29: Anime wall décor
30: Fruit jelly cups. In Japan, small gelatin based snacks like this are popular. They're tiny, about an inch tall, and you eat them in just one or two bites.
31: Niko's laptop. She has stickers on it
32: Washi tape! It's decorative Japanese tape, often with bright colors and patterns, used for crafting.
33: A lot of cute magnets, including the bunny one, which serves double-duty as a kitchen timer
34: Niko's grocery list. The only thing on here that's here because she wants it is strawberry ice cream. The rest of the items, licorice tea, manuka honey, and Epsom salts, are all natural remedies. She's been trouble-shooting how to get rid of the effects of the sprites. She knows she's sick, but not why
35: Cutesy craft supplies! Sequins, glitter, and pompoms
36: More washi tape!
37: Niko's manga collection. She is that particular brand of organizational mess that does not put her numbered volumes in order. She has made an exception for the series that makes a complete picture when you line them up, though
38: More plants :)
39: Manga posters! Issho is one of the series that she has on her shelf
40: A decorative jar
41: Little metal bird sculptures
42: What seems to be the only framed picture in her room. The angle is wrong to see what the photo is, but it's interesting that they added just one in here. Maybe it's her family…?
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creative-crybaby · 1 year ago
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Photogenic
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PAIRING: timeskip!Rintarou Suna x fem!reader x timeskip!Miya Osamu
GENRE: smut (18+)
TAGS + WARNINGS: threesome (polyamorous), fingering, oral (m receiving), double penetration, mlm relationship, handjobs, cum eating, creampie, voyeurism, consensual photo taking, praise kink, edging
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
SUMMARY: You and your lovers get creative with your home screens. All characters are 18+
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
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Your lock screens are of three separate occasions.
Osamu’s is of you and Suna at Onigiri Miya. The shop owner’s hard work has finally paid off, and his store grew in popularity. You and the middle blocker popped by to celebrate the milestone, bringing a bouquet of amaryllis and some sweets for you three to share after closing. Your onigiri was on the house, and the two of you took advantage of the younger Miya’s generosity, munching away on various onigiri on the stools near the counter. The photo consists of you stuffing a half-eaten umeboshi into your mouth while the middle blocker swipes a grain of rice off your cheek.
Suna’s lock screen is of Osamu with his arm around your shoulder, the two of you sporting his jersey number. Your appearance shocked the middle blocker, as his upcoming match would’ve been on the other side of the country, and he was sure you two would be too busy to watch him play. You surprised him with front-row seats, cheering as loud as you two could and quickly gaining his attention during the first set. After winning the match, you hastily made your way to congratulate Suna, dragging Osamu with you. The brunet showed his gratitude by commenting on how ridiculous you two looked, opting to take photos as you happily posed. 
Meanwhile, your lock screen consists of your lovers in an art museum. A date you planned out, you lead the way for them, explaining everything you knew about every painting and sculpture as if they couldn’t just read about them there. A particular painting that caught both of their attention convinced you to get them to pose for a photo. They eventually agreed, resting their chins on their fists while pursing their lips and furrowing their brows, as if trying to understand the artwork’s meaning. 
Your home screens, however, were taken on the same evening.
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It was all Suna’s idea, having gotten inspiration from scrolling through his camera roll. Osamu initially worried about others potentially catching a glimpse. To you, though, the opportunity dished itself out on a silver platter, and your very clear interest had his concern withering away.
Several minutes after the proposal, you three were in your bedroom, having already gone through with messy kisses and teasing bites as you stripped each other bare. It all happened so quickly that it made your head spin. 
Now, you were settled between Suna’s muscular legs as he laid against the headboard, and it only got more difficult to think straight. 
“Eyes up, bunny,” he hummed lazily. You obeyed, albeit shyly, and were greeted by your other lover prompted on the little loveseat near the foot of the bed, his dark eyes zeroed in on your spread legs as he aimed his phone at the display. The middle blocker brushed his nose against your shoulder. “Having second thoughts?”
“No,” you were quick to respond, taking a moment to breathe before opening your legs wider. You could feel his smile against your skin as he buried his face in the junction of your neck, his hand creeping down your body and between your thighs. 
“Focus on the camera if you want a good pic,” Suna smirked, peering at the other male. 
The latter scoffed, though there was no real malice behind it. “Easier said than done.”
And he was right, what with the leaking of your essence teasing his thoughts and luring his eagerness. The shop owner had half a mind to throw the phone away and have at it with both his lovers. 
Instead, the younger Miya twin gulped as he steadied his hold on the device, his eyes squinting to keep focus as Suna easily slid a finger inside your sopping hole. The two men smirked at your mewling, and it was more than enough for the middle blocker to set a languid pace. Neither of them missed your hips snapping up to meet the excruciatingly slow rhythm, though it only made the brunet tighten his hold on your legs.
“Behave,” he tutted, pulling out momentarily to lightly tap your clit. You jolted with a silent cry, tears blanketing your waterline. “Photo or no photo, we gotta stretch you out first.”
Despite your hazy vision, you still caught sight of your other lover with his hand sliding down to his crotch, lazily palming himself at the display before him. It made your cunt clench, and you had to refrain from burying your face in Suna’s neck. 
After what felt like far more than a few seconds, the athlete hummed in satisfaction before sliding back inside your pussy, this time, with two digits. With how long they are, it’s no surprise they reached your sweet spot as easily as they did. It’s how they curled just right, however, that made you gasp. The steady beats of him probing where you needed it forced you to hold still, fearing he’d stop again. 
“Any day now,” Suna drawled, his gaze trailing up to his former teammate as he continued creating the squelching noises between your legs. The sounds only grew louder as he added to his speed and force, his palm making contact with your clit as he brought his lips to your ear. “Gonna sit still and look pretty, won’t you, bunny?”
You could only whimper your confirmation as the pleasure provided occupied the majority of your thoughts. With your gaze shielded by a mist, you could hardly see Osamu merely a few feet away from you. Then again, part of you was grateful; being able to properly see the camera aimed at your naked frame would just about make you explode, especially knowing that thousands of pixels would keep this moment alive. 
Your attempts didn’t seem to be enough, however, as you felt another rough hand on your skin—this time, cupping your chin, a calloused thumb pushing past your quivering lips and forcing your mouth open. Your tongue twitched against the digit, a whine slipping out as your body grew warmer.
The snapshots, as subtle as they were, weren’t quiet enough for your ears to miss. Your eyes tingled as tears teased their downfall, working alongside your dizziness as the middle blocker continued his assault.
What finally made you let out a cry was not your long-awaited orgasm, but the feeling of emptiness following the disappearing pleasure. 
Suna’s chuckle felt downright cruel after having removed his fingers from inside you, the bubbling in your lower abdomen simmering away. 
“Noooo,” you whined, your voice quivering as you threw your head back to rest on the middle blocker’s shoulder. 
“Patience, bunny.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, and you could feel the smirk against your skin. “Once we’re all done here, we’ll keep making you cum until you pass out. Now,” the brunet pats your thigh, slowly slipping past you as he and his former teammate trade places, “do your best for the next pic, ‘kay?”
The last part sent heat straight to your face as Osamu chuckled at your state, the ravenette swiftly removing his boxers before throwing them elsewhere in the room and settling onto the edge of the bed. You crawled toward his large frame, and he grabbed your chin to pull you into a sweet kiss, humming into your mouth. By the time you separated, Suna had his phone ready to capture a moment of your intimacy.
“Ready, angel?” asked the younger twin, his large hand caressing your face. The spreading of his muscular thighs was a subtle movement, but it was enough to make your eyes dart downwards, catching sight of his hard and heavy cock dribbling precum from the slit. 
Saliva pooled onto your tongue as you nodded mindlessly, swallowing heavily before dropping to the shaft’s level. 
Laying on your side in a fetal position wasn’t the most comfortable way for you to take your lover in your mouth, but there weren’t many options for you to do so while having your face visible to Suna’s phone. You instead decided to distract yourself by doing an extra good job for Osamu, who exhaled shakily as you offered kitten licks to his tip.
“Good girl,” he sighed, his head tilting to the side as his dark eyes watched you. Those two words were more than enough to keep you going, your mouth taking more of his thick cock as your tongue danced across a prominent vein. The action earned you a guttural moan from him, and your other lover cursed under his breath. With their sounds sending heat straight to your cunt, your eyes trailed to the athlete on the loveseat. He caught your gaze, seemingly understanding your silent message as he better focused his device on you before you took a deep breath from your nose. 
You must have gagged before the tip hit the back of your throat, you were sure. Drool oozed down Osamu’s cock the more of it you took, further stretching your lips as you aimed for your goal of reaching his base. You almost didn’t hear the snapping of photos as you continued your struggle, but it wasn’t until the former wing spiker bucked his hips and forced your eyes to roll to the back of your head that you knew Suna got plenty of material. 
“All right,” he drawled, admiring the display through the camera. “That’s enough for now.”
You whined, the vibrations making Osamu hiss before you slowly slipped him out of your mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva connected his tip to your bottom lip, and he broke that bridge by pulling you back into another steamy kiss. It was short, allowing you room to catch your breath while your lover peered at the other. 
“Didn’t have t’edge me just ‘cause ya did the same for her, ya know,” the Miya twin grunted, his thick brows somewhat furrowed. Suna only offered a nonchalant shrug before smirking, his features growing more fox-like. 
“Patience is a virtue, ya know.” There was a light taunt in the athlete’s impression of a Kansai accent as he placed his phone on the nightstand, making his male lover huff. 
“Yer one to talk.”
The slight bickering ceased once the brunet joined you on the bed, his sharp eyes scanning your face for discomfort. 
“How’re you feeling, bunny?” His tone dropped to something much softer, his hand cradling your face while his thumb swiped some precum from the corner of your swollen lips. “Wanna keep going?”
Your eyes glazed over with affection as you stared at him with a smile. “Yeah.”
Both men copied your expression, each holding one of your hands for comfort. It wasn’t long until the middle blocker’s softness morphed into a more mischievous one.
“Well, now it’s our turn to pose,” he said, pulling back to stand straight and hook his thumbs under his boxer’s waistband. “Consider it your break before we get to the real deal.”
A shot of energy surged through your veins at the implications, and you got up from your spot on the mattress to grab your phone, wobbling as you did so. Osamu, luckily, had his arms out, ready to catch you should you fall. He made sure you got to the loveseat safely. 
Once you were settled, Suna was fully nude, erect cock free of its restraints as it occasionally twitched. The athlete made himself comfortable looming over his boyfriend, resting his hands on the other’s shoulders. 
Osamu’s eyes remained on you as he held onto the brunet’s waist. “Whaddya want us t’do, sweetheart?”
You hadn’t thought that far ahead. To be honest, you were more focused on the sexual activities themselves than the photography aspect, and your lips pursed as you pondered. 
“Surprise me,” you answered somewhat sheepishly, not wanting to spend too much time coming up with ideas. “I’m sure you’ll both look great regardless.”
Your response earned you a grin from the former athlete and an amused hum from the current one before they faced each other and leaned in for a kiss. You almost forgot about the phone in your hand as you watched your lovers moan into each other’s mouths, pressing their lips harder together as they embraced. Suna climbed onto the bed, pushing Osamu further back to make room for himself without disconnecting. 
Every moment between them was picture-perfect, but you couldn’t find it in you to snap a photo, afraid of missing even a second of their love. You especially couldn’t peel your eyes away when the younger twin brought both cocks together, languidly jerking them together while the brunet bucked his hips in tandem. 
Take the damn photo.
Easier said than done when your eyes were stuck on a masterpiece with your thumb refusing to move from its spot above the button. Both men progressed their sloppy makeout session as Suna pushed Osamu to lay on the mattress, strong thighs on top of strong thighs as the roll of their hips became more apparent. 
“Take as many photos as you want, bunny.” His focus remained on the lover below him, but the middle blocker’s words were obviously for you. 
“I can do this all day,” the ravenette chimed with shallow breaths. Strangely enough, they managed to snap you back from whatever lustful heaven you were floating in to get you to take their photo. Multiple photos at that, your finger pressing the button with barely one-second intervals in between to make sure nothing came out blurry. Even once you stopped, your boyfriends’ pace didn’t falter.
“Got it?” Suna hummed, his eyes even more narrow than usual as he focused on his pleasure. 
“I think so,” you breathed, leaving your phone on the loveseat before leaning towards your partners. Your home screen can wait. “Can I join now?”
The whine in your voice made Osamu chuckle, only cutting himself off with a groan when the brunet’s hips halted. The shop owner reached his arm out to you. “C’mere.”
You quickly crawled towards him, your head swooping down to press your lips against his with a keen. Suna sighed at the sight, his body no longer pressed against the other male as he lightly pumped his cock at the display before him. 
Without breaking the kiss, the ravenette flipped your body to have you on your back, the middle blocker aiding by slipping a pillow under your head. Even with the two no longer playing volleyball together, they still know how to work as a team. 
You were breathless, but you didn’t dare pull away as Osamu slid his tongue into your mouth, toying with yours as he shifted between your legs. The bed dipped near your head, a pair of muscular thighs trapping you between them. From your peripherals, you could see Suna peering down at you with hooded lids and a smirk, his cock back at full mast and close to your face. 
The air finally found its home in your lungs when the kiss ended, though you had little time to catch your breath before the brunet tapped your swollen lips with his tip. A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you panted as you eagerly took him down your throat. With a drawn-out moan, you were quick to cover as much of his shaft as possible with your saliva, your tongue swirling around the girth. 
Meanwhile, Osamu had his tip aiming at your cunt, tapping at your clit before slowly diving into your dripping pussy. You gagged the further he stretched you out, leading to a chain reaction of Suna groaning at the vibrations dancing along his dick. You gripped onto the middle blocker’s thighs for support, digging your nails into his skin as your other lover’s navel reached yours. You couldn’t help but shiver as he decided to remind you of his size by pressing a large hand down on your lower belly.
“Ya feel that, pretty girl?” he rasped, his thumb caressing your skin. You could only moan, your mouth still full as Suna thrusted softly into your throat.
“You trying to make me cum early?” he huffed lowly, his fingers mindlessly tracing your throat. You whimpered an apology, not that you could do much else. 
“Cut her some slack,” Osamu hummed, beginning to thrust languidly. His hands slid up your body, finding your breasts and toying with your nipples with a half-smile. “She can’t help it if she’s good at takin’ cock.”
His comment brought heat to your face, though it only encouraged you to take more of Suna’s shaft into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. The action earned you a groan from the athlete, followed by him mumbling, “Can’t argue with that,” under his breath.
It wasn’t long until your lovers quickened their pace, Osamu’s dick finding your sweet spot while Suna’s hit the back of your throat. Even through your intense gagging and squelching, you could hear the sound of lips smacking and deep moans. From your position, you couldn’t watch your lovers exchange acts of lust, but with them connecting their bodies through yours, you supposed you couldn’t complain. 
You felt your legs lift off the duvet and onto broad shoulders before the pounding between your thighs grew in intensity. Your cries remained muffled, and it wasn’t many seconds later until the middle blocker stilled above you, spilling hot ropes of semen into your mouth. You did your best to swallow it all, careful not to choke on the quantity and girth as it just kept coming. You wouldn’t be surprised if his thighs were bleeding from how deeply you were digging your nails into them, though Suna’s voiced many times before how he loves showing off his marks to anyone who caught sight of them in the locker room. 
Osamu only momentarily slowed his pace to allow his male lover to slide out of your mouth, his hands caressing your legs as you gulped copious amounts of air. It wasn’t until Suna shifted to your side and your breathing regulated that the former wing spiker proceeded with his actions, wrecking your insides like it was his life’s mission.
“Feels so good, princess,” he groaned, his strokes growing sloppy. “‘M so close. Ya gonna let me cum inside, yeah? Fill ya to the brim?”
You nodded your head rapidly, only managing to hiccup in response. Suna chuckled at your state, the athlete reaching for his phone on the nightstand once more and pointing it at where you and Osamu connected.
You weren’t sure where to focus, though with your lover abusing your sweet spot, you supposed the decision was already made for you. Then, Suna decided to help by rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit, and your back arched off the mattress. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, your voice trapped in your raw throat as your pussy convulsed around your boyfriend’s thick cock.
“Shit!” you heard Osamu hiss. “Shitshitshitshit—”
He joined you moments later, doing exactly what he asked and emptied every drop his balls had to offer. The warmth spilling inside you brought your voice back, and you slurred both your lovers’ names as your orgasm continued to attack your body.  
You dropped onto the mattress as soon as it ended, panting heavily as you tried to get the room to stop spinning. Osamu pulled out, and you caught sight of Suna aiming his phone at your spent cunt, a smile creeping onto his face as the former’s cum seeped out of your hole.
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Everything was a blur. 
You could only pout at your screen as you swiped through each photo you took, none of them sharp enough to use as a home screen. You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, having been more focused on the display than capturing it. 
“What’s up?” Osamu asked, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. His phone was in his hand, his attention no longer on the device as he pulled you closer into his embrace. 
Suna paused his actions, peering over your shoulder on your other side before grinning. 
“Didn’t get any good pics, huh?” His chuckles made your brows furrow. “Guess we’ll just have to do everything all over again.”
You didn’t miss how his voice dropped an octave at the suggestion, and your face grew warm as Osamu nuzzled his nose into your hair. 
“It’s just one pic,” you grumbled, your thighs subconsciously pressed together. “We can make it quick.”
Suna shook his head, showing you his screen. “You’re not the only one who messed up, bunny.”
Your lips pursed as you swiped through his photos, noticing the similarities of blurriness with your own. You felt a smirk tug at Osamu’s mouth, and your frown deepened. The middle blocker never missed an opportunity to capture a moment on his device; making a mistake–this many, at that–was downright impossible for him. 
Before you could point it out, Osamu was copying his former teammate’s actions, his eyes on your phone while showing you his screen. 
“What a coincidence.” He feigned innocence as you saw his unfocused photos, your eyes widening in realization. You couldn’t even voice your anger, what with their hands creeping up your thighs and the heat pooling in your lower belly. With the knowing look they shared, it was safe to assume they knew how you felt. Osamu moved to your ear. “Strike a pose for us, won’t you?”
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chemerr2 · 6 months ago
Note
eyeless jack headcannons :O can be sfw or nsfw <3
thank you anon I NEED THIS MAN. i need all 4 of his legs in front of my face. -SEXYPAPINOQUE
SFW !!
ik this is probably one of the most popular headcanons but he’s warm. He’s THE heated blanket everyone needs during the middle of winter. He’s usually warmer in places people wouldn’t normally touch or go near. Like his armpits for instance but that’s ok cause he’s comfortable with you being THAT close to him and on top of that he’s not musty!! yay!
best head massages known to man. those longs nails of his make you foam at the mouth when he slides them through your hair, on your scalp and the back of your neck.
very clean. like VERY. he cannot stand having a cluttered space especially when it’s his work area we’re talking about. he doesn’t go batshit crazy tho if his room has like 2 socks on the floor 💀 just doesn’t like to be surrounded by complete filth. Even tho he can’t work well in small spaces given his physical appearance and amount of equipment— he reminds himself to clean as he goes.
responsible but only for himself and you ofc. His reasoning for this is because he’s grown, toby is grown and so is jeff plus the others so he shouldn’t have to tell a 23 yr old to clean up after himself or wipe the toilet after he pisses cause he didn’t aim in the toilet.
always pampers you and chooses you over anyone else. sometimes he end up favoring your priorities over his own and forgets to do important things for himself. You wouldn’t even have to tell him because he’ll snap back to reality once he realizes he hasn’t done a chore or task he told himself he’d do.
like the cool older brother or the older brothers cool friend who takes you to the store and buy things for your mom when she’s cooking dinner
speaking of cooking, he can’t make anything past a traditional american breakfast dish (eggs, bacon, toast, grits or rice) other than that he’ll warm up a corn dog or reheatable pancakes in the microwave
if he has tomatoes on his burger snd he knows u like tomatoes he’ll give them to you. He’d give you a whole jar of pickles and drink the pickle juice (vice versa if u love pickle juice as much as me)
he stands in front of the tv likes he’s made of glass💀
DRAGS you by your arm, shirt, or ear if he even slightly thinks ur gonna get into an argument with anyone, For the sake of you and himself because 1. doesn’t want u to fight anyone AND 2. don’t want you to get ur feelings hurt. yep
NSFW !!
rmbr when i said i need all 4 of his legs? 🤭 yeah he’s got 2 FATASS DANGLING COCKS.
ok let’s keep it realistic, he’s inexperienced but he’s not a vulnerable virgin, he knows what boojaina is, he knows what ur cervix is— he knows all of it and how much the female body can take.
his dick is wide so 1 inch of his demomic- hybrid 8inch cock takes up the full capacity of ur hole ifykwim.
it looks like he’s always had a boner but it’s just his thick and heavy cocks finally getting a good nights rest when you aren’t around.
Loves when you trace the veins on his cock and kiss his ugly circumcised scar on both his cocks. See i can get all into detail about the scar but y’all probably would get turned off. ANYWAYS
humps you. dry. all night, every night. Your smaller than him, even if someone says your big— to HIM your a delicate feather in his hand and he tosses you like a salad gently. He proceeds w caution when he gives you the nasties backshots
idc idcccc ur butt may not be big but when he gives u backshots it sounds like poseidons trident causing hell on sea.
horny dog?? nah horny bear. He literally locks you both up in his room or office and breeds you heavily like he’s trying to form a football team.
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ssivinee · 2 days ago
Text
❥ 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎
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Le Sserafim! Nakamura Kazhua x F reader: You and Kazuha both come into a tight spot. She needs a 'fake girlfriend' to make her parents happy, and you need to help your dad, who needs dire help. How will the rich and popular girl and a nobody like you help each other out?
Word Count: 6.3 k
Author's Note: Writing this one actually came so easy to me, like it was so refreshing😭. ANYWAYSSSSS I'll be working on a few fics this month FOR SURE since the break is coming up! I'll have a few things coming up in school, and college WILL be kicking my ass but before and after all that, I'll try and update as much as I can.
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The warm aroma of miso soup filled the air as you ladled portions into bowls, your movements practiced from countless nights spent at your father’s restaurant. The steady sizzle of tonkatsu in the hot oil, the clinking of glasses as men toasted as a celebration, and the occasional chime of the register felt as natural as breathing.
Your father fixed the dishes on a large tray: two bowls of miso soup, steaming plates of tonkatsu with rice and curry, a platter of salmon sashimi, and some plain green tea. He handed it off with a nod, and you hoisted the tray onto your shoulder, carrying it to a table where a young couple sat, lost in their little world.
Returning to the counter, you set down the tray and started wiping down tables, each swipe bringing closing time a little closer. After wiping down the last tables and cleaning the floors, you closed the register and changed out of your uniform.
“Otosan! I’m heading out!” you called from the door. Your father looked up from his notebook and calculator long enough to wave goodbye, immersed in tallying up the day’s earnings. Hopping on your bike, you pedaled home under the quiet night sky, planning to tackle your homework before bed.
This was your daily routine: mornings at university, afternoons helping your dad at the restaurant, then late nights finishing assignments. It wasn’t an amazing lifestyle, but you and your dad were getting by, and that was enough.
The scholarship you’d earned was the key to giving your father a better life, and you were determined to keep it that way. Whether that meant long hours studying or missing out on having any kind of social life, you didn’t mind. As long as you succeeded, that was what mattered.
But life wasn’t smooth sailing either. You attended a prestigious university filled with classmates from the country’s wealthiest families. You’d worked hard to pass the grueling entrance exam, clinching one of the top scores that earned you a scholarship for a business degree. That meant you had to work 10 times harder to keep your spot in school.
Now, you sat at your desk, fingers nearly flying over the keyboard as you worked on a project for business class. The computer was slow—a model you’d saved up for after countless shifts—but it did what you needed, even if you had to be patient with it. You then finished up as quickly as possible, just before you were extremely exhausted and crashed into bed.
You woke up to the harsh blare of your alarm at five in the morning, practically slamming it off as you dragged yourself up, feeling like you’d just been hit by an earthquake. Stretching the sleep from your limbs, you quickly showered threw on a plain polo, a knitted sweater, and some hand-me-down jeans. With classes starting at seven and living an hour away by bike, this was your routine—always the first one in the classroom.
As other students trickled in, you were already immersed in your textbook, laptop open, barely noticing the bustle around you. “This is why you have no friends,” a voice teased, pulling you out of focus. You looked up to see your best friend, Tanaka Anna, grinning at you.
“Then why are you here?” you shot back, smiling as she took the seat beside you. Despite being one of the “rich kids,” Anna quickly became your closest friend in that first week of school. Both of you were some of the top students in your class, and the bond you formed was effortless.
Meanwhile, across town in Osaka, Nakamura Kazuha was just stirring awake. Even fresh out of sleep, Kazuha exuded an effortless beauty. With her family’s prestige, she was known for her grace, wealth, and status—a girl who seemed to have it all.
Kazuha’s morning began in her usual luxurious bubble. She opened her eyes to soft light filtering through silk curtains, stretching slowly against the plush, oversized pillows. As she got out of her bed, she slipped on a velvet robe and made her way to the bathroom, where everything—from the marble countertops to the gold fixtures—yelled rich in anyone's face. 
She took her time in the shower, letting the warmth ease her into the day, before wearing a high-end light blue blouse, matching skirt, and short white heels. The final touches were a pair of delicate pearl earrings and a designer bag to match.
By the time she came down her grand staircase for breakfast, the family’s chef had already prepared a large spread: sliced fruit arranged like art, freshly baked pastries, and perfectly poached eggs. She settled in at the long dining table, enjoying her home's quiet and refined atmosphere. But it wasn’t long before her parents joined her, each with their usual aura of authority.
“Kazuha, darling,” her mother, Mitsuko, began, setting her teacup down with a slight clink. “Your father and I wanted to discuss something important.”
Her father, Ichiro, nodded. “The company ball is next month, and it’s…well, you know how it is. We’d like you to bring a date this year.”
Kazuha paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “A date?” she asked, the idea feeling suddenly foreign. She was used to being in the spotlight on her, but with a date?
“Yes, Kazuha. You’re at the age where these things are expected,” her mother replied gently. “You’ve been so focused on yourself, but you need someone who can stand beside you, someone accomplished. It would make a good impression.”
Her father added, “It’s a chance to meet someone who’s not only a match in standard but also has the intellect to keep up with you.”
Kazuha swallowed, the weight of their expectations settling over her. She had high standards, and finding someone who was smart and emotionally intelligent, especially in her circle, felt nearly impossible. The clock was ticking, though, and she knew her parents would be relentless until she found someone. He parents weren’t one to judge, but they had some expectations that not many people reached.
Later, in the school cafeteria, Kazuha shared her dilemma with her two closest friends, Yunjin and Chaewon, as they sipped their lattes. “I just… I have no idea who I could find that’s… I don’t know, like that? They have to be smart, like really smart, and have a good head on their shoulders. But most people here are either too shallow or stupid.”
Yunjin began thinking for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “Maybe~, you’re in luck. Y/n. Top student, really smart, doesn’t exactly live in a bubble like most of us but could probably act like it.”
Chaewon nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s definitely a good option. Not a pushover, but they won’t embarrass you either. I think they’d be convincing enough to your parents.”
Kazuha thought for a moment. Y/n wasn’t exactly the first person she’d ever consider as a “date,” but you had the qualities she needed, at least from what she was hearing from her friends. And perhaps, with the right incentive, you might just agree to help her.
During your lunch break, you were scanning over some notes when Kazuha appeared before you, looking both determined and slightly nervous.
“Y/n, I have a proposition,” she began, choosing her words carefully. You looked there confused, never imagining someone this famous talking to you. “My family is hosting a ball next month, and I need a date. It’s important that they’re…well, someone smart, someone good with people. And I think you’d be the perfect choice.”
You raised an eyebrow, barely glancing up. “No thanks, I’m not really interested in being someone’s date.”
Kazuha’s expression shifted as she leaned in, desperation flickering in her eyes. “Look, I’m willing to make it worth your time. I’ll pay you—100,000 yen.”
That caught your attention. You looked at her properly, noting how she tried to maintain her usual composed expression despite the obvious urgency in her voice. “I’ll think about it,” Kazuha took that response, nodding furiously as she took a piece of paper from your notes, writing something down.
“Here’s my number. If you make up your mind, just give me a text,” You were about to say ‘okay,’ but she anxiously walked away, going back to her table. Your fingers trail to the paper, looking at the number but paying no mind to it as Anna comes to sit with food in her hands. 
You told yourself you’d think about it later. “What was Kazuha doing here?”
“Huh?” You look at Anna in surprise. She hands you a sandwich, her brows raised in interest. “Oh, she was just asking me about Professor Ito’s class,” you try saying confidently, which works as Anna just shrugs and begins eating her food.
Anna had already started chatting about her morning, sharing the latest gossip and complaining about her calculus homework, which you gladly offered her help with after work on call.
After lunch, you headed to your next class, slipping into your usual seat in the back. The professor discussed business ethics, but your mind drifted back to Kazuha’s offer. The idea of pretending to be her date for a month—just to impress her family and their high-society crowd—felt entirely out of your comfort zone.
As the class ended, you tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. You had work to do and didn’t want to be distracted by a girl like Kazuha, no matter how much money she offered.
Your next stop was the library, where you planned to work on your project. It was a presentation, so you had to make sure it was perfect to save yourself from embarrassment. The quiet hum of the library was a relief after the loud and crowded hallways, and you found a secluded spot to set up. As you opened your laptop and began typing, you noticed a familiar face a few tables down—Kazuha, of all people, was sitting with Huh Yunjin and Kim Chaewon. They were talking in low voices, and every so often, Kazuha would glance around as if worried someone might overhear.
You tried to ignore them, but their conversation kept drawing your eye. Eventually, you buried yourself in your notes, focusing on your work, determined to stay on track. As minutes passed, you got into a rhythm, typing away as the library around you faded into the background.
By the time you finished, the sun had started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows. You packed up your things, feeling accomplished after making some serious progress on your project. Heading out, you passed by the university’s main quad, where groups of students were sprawled on the grass, enjoying the evening air. You caught sight of Anna again, now sitting with a few friends, laughing at something on her phone.
You waved to her and kept walking, mind back on your to-do list. 
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It was now after your shift, and you were doing your nightly cleaning of the restaurant, but a low, tired sigh interrupted that. You look at your dad, who was doing his usual finance check, but his hand gripped the side of his head, and he shook it in disappointment. With concern, you go over to him, sliding your hand up and down his back.
“Everything okay, otosan?” you asked, your tone light, though you’d noticed the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth. He shook his head and lowered his reading glasses, his gaze fixed on the old open notebook.
“It hasn’t been for a while, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice drowned in stress. You glanced down at the page filled with columns of numbers, each line a reminder of the months he’d been struggling to keep up. Your stomach sank as your eyes settled on the red circle at the bottom.
“80,000 yen?!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as the reality of the number hit you. Your father nodded, the faintest tremor in his hands as he pushed the book toward you.
“If we don’t pay by the end of this month, we’ll have to close down,” he said, his voice cracking. You felt your chest tighten as you watched him lower his head, shoulders sagging under the weight of shame he tried to hide as tears began dropping.
Before you knew it, you were reaching over, wrapping him tightly. He leaned into you, his struggles now fully visible. “I’ll find a way to keep this place open,” you murmured, feeling the promise settle deep in your bones.
“Y/n,” he started to say, pulling back to look at you, but you just nodded as pure determination coursed through your veins. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, the restaurant’s debt being too large for your dad to handle alone.
After helping your father close up for the night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of how you could come up with such an amount so quickly. The scholarship helped with university fees, but that was about all the financial freedom you had. The rest was a constant scramble to save and help out however you could. 
You couldn’t—wouldn’t—let your father’s efforts be for nothing.
Yet you were stumped. Thinking of ways to help him, even if it were just a short solution. Your eyes then drift to the pocket of your raggedy jeans that hung on a hanger on your closet door. As if a light bulb went off, you rush over to the pockets, taking out the wrinkled paper that held Kazuha’s number. 
You reached for your phone, texting her quickly, and sighed as you hit send.
Kazuha had been lying in bed, eating some chips as she watched a movie before bed. Feeling the buzz of her phone, she read the message that made her smile: It’s Y/n. I’ll accept your offer.
The feeling of relief sank in quickly, deciding to respond back just as fast: Got it. We’ll talk in person tmmr.
Kazuha couldn’t contain her excitement, texting her group chats with a big grin stuck on her face.
Zuha🦢 SHE SAID SHE’D HELP ME OUT EEEEEEEEEEEE Jen🐍 woah wasn’t expecting that to actually work out Chae🐯 wait what about her status? ik Y/n isn’t rich 🤔 Zuha🦢 i got that handled. ill talk to her about it tmmr Jen🐍 goodluck with that then 🤩
With the good news, Kazuha’s sleep was amazing that night. So the next day, during your break after your business and statistics class, you barely sipped your coffee when you noticed Kazuha approaching. She seemed more put together than yesterday, her expression a mix of confidence and happiness as you felt the peppiness from a mile away. She stopped just in front of you, a polite smile on her face.
“You free now?” You nodded, which had her quickly taking a seat across from you. “So let’s talk about the ball first,” she started. “It’s formal, of course, with a lot of people from my father’s company, some rival companies, and family friends attending. I need you to play the part of a rich, smart, and well-behaved girlfriend.”
“Alright…” you nodded, leaning in as Kazuha launched into more details.
“And as far as your ‘background’ goes, we’ll need to smooth over a few things,” she added carefully, her gaze flickering over you as if assessing what she was working with. “Tell me about you first.” “Well, uhm, my mom passed away from a heart disease when I was four years old, so it’s only been my dad and I. I’m on a scholarship here, and I work in my dad’s restaurant. She fought for a long time, and…well, my dad’s been managing on his own since,” as you finished the short summary of your life, Kazuha couldn’t help but feel sad for your mom. 
Kazuha’s expression shifted immediately, her eyes softening as she nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her usual composure breaking just enough to reveal a genuine sadness in her gaze. She reached out momentarily as if to offer a comforting touch, then thought better of it, folding her hands instead. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. Really.” You waved your hands frantically at her, passed the pity and grieving stage. “It’s been a long time, don’t worry about it.”
Kazuha tries to move past the subject. “So you’re gonna be the child of a successful family, then. Your father owns a chain of restaurants,” she said, pausing as if trying to gauge your reaction.
You raised an eyebrow but decided to go along with it. “Alright, we’ll leave out the real specifics,” you said, slightly grinning. “If your parents are convinced, that’s all that matters, right?”
“Exactly,” Kazuha replied with a relieved smile, then hesitated, her expression softening.
Kazuha nodded thoughtfully as if committing everything you’d said to memory. “Alright, for our story, your dad’s chain will be ‘up-and-coming.’ We won’t mention the name; I’ll handle any questions from my parents.”
“Right,” you replied. “So…what’s the next step?”
Kazuha’s face lit up a little, her businesslike expression slipping back into one of enthusiasm. “First, we need to make it believable. If people see us together, the rumors will spread, and my parents will hear about us before we even have to introduce you. So, a slight makeover and some new clothes.”
You raised an eyebrow; the idea of a “makeover” is not exactly high on your list of priorities. “New clothes? Aren’t people just going to think we’re…together if we’re seen in public a lot?”
“Exactly. That’s the point. We want to make it believable to everyone else first, so my parents buy into it,” Kazuha explained with a sly smile. “Trust me, it’s easier that way.”
You sighed, wondering just what you’d signed up for. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”
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The next day, you met Kazuha in the city, feeling more nervous than you’d anticipated. She took you to a luxurious shopping district that, honestly, you’d only ever seen in passing. Her eyes lit up as she led you through the marble-floored entrance of the first boutique.
“Alright,” Kazuha said with a determined smile. “Let’s find you something that says, ‘sophisticated and slightly out of everyone’s league.’”
In the first store, she handed you a blazer and high-waisted pants, then a chic blouse and dress slacks, each piece seemingly more expensive than the last. You tried on outfit after outfit, and Kazuha would look you over, making tiny adjustments to the sleeves or tilting her head thoughtfully before approving or rejecting each one. Soon, there was a stack of ‘approved’ items in her hands, and you were only beginning to realize how committed she was to this whole “couple” thing.
After several bags of clothing, she led you to a high-end salon in the district. The place was sleek, and the stylist practically glowed when Kazuha told them what she was envisioning for you. You barely had a chance to speak before you were in the chair, caped and ready. They added soft layers and volume to your hair, trimming it in a way that made it frame your face, and the stylist styled it with effortless waves, adding a sense of ‘rich’ vibes to you.
Once the haircut was done, Kazuha gave a little approving nod, almost as if she were admiring her own handiwork. “Perfect,” she said, a small smile of satisfaction creeping onto her face. “Now, for the ball…”
She led you to yet another store, where you noticed her eyes darting between the dresses on display and the sleeker suits on the other side. Finally, she grabbed a tailored navy blue pantsuit, complete with a fitted blazer and high-waisted pants. The fabric looked soft, and the cut was elegant. 
When you tried it on and stepped out of the fitting room, Kazuha’s smile widened. “That’s it. It’s perfect on you.” She handed the attendant her card without another word, leaving you feeling both flattered and somewhat stunned at the transformation.
Over the next few days at school, you and Kazuha started hanging out in the open, just as she’d planned. You sat beside each other during lunch, walked to classes together, and even laughed at each other’s jokes like an actual couple. 
It wasn’t long before people started talking. Anna finally cornered you at lunch with a smirk on her face. “Alright, spill. What’s going on with you and Kazuha?” Anna nudged you, raising her eyebrows knowingly.
You gave her a shrug, trying to play it cool. “It’s…kind of complicated,” you started, but Anna was already crossing her arms, ready to hear all the details.
With a sigh, you explained the situation, from the fake relationship helping her with the ball to the makeover Kazuha had insisted on to your father being in debt, and you do all this for him. Anna just shook her head with a laugh. “So, you’re basically the prince in this Cinderella story, and she’s…what, the princess in disguise?”
“Something like that, I guess,” you chuckled, though you could sense how strange this all sounded. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of it. You’d been helping your dad as usual but found yourself waiting for each break to see what Kazuha might come up with next.
All of this was beginning to feel too real to you. On a random school day, you and Kazuha had been hanging out on campus at a place with a good view. Just the two of you, sitting on a bench as her head leaned on your shoulder. “You know, this isn’t so bad,” she says as she stares off, and you find yourself staring at her as she speaks.
“These past few weeks have probably been the happiest I’ve been in my life.” You smile at her words. But when she looked at you directly in the eyes, your heart skipped a beat. Her eyes are large as she looks at you so hopelessly. Your heart raced as she smiled with genuine happiness. 
On a different day, a rainy afternoon, you and Kazuha found yourselves tucked away in a small coffee shop off-campus. The rain had started out of nowhere, and after a rushed dash to find shelter, you both ended up laughing as you brushed the rain from your jackets. It was quieter than usual inside, only a handful of people scattered throughout the cozy café, and you and Kazuha snagged a booth by the window, watching the rain drizzle against the glass.
Kazuha stirred her hot chocolate absentmindedly, a small smile on her face as she leaned across the table toward you. “I think we make a pretty cute couple,” she teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
You raised a brow, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Do you, now?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, a playful grin spreading across her lips. She reached over and took your hand, threading her fingers through yours without hesitation. Her touch was warm, her thumb grazing the back of your hand in soft circles, and her expression turned softer, her gaze lingering on your joined hands as though they fit perfectly together.
“It’s kind of unfair, don’t you think?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What is?” you asked, your voice quiet in return, as if the moment was too fragile to break.
“That you get to look at me like that,” she replied, meeting your eyes, “but I’m the one who can’t look away.”
Her words hit you like a sudden rush, leaving you speechless. Her gaze was tender, searching your face as if trying to memorize every detail. She leaned a little closer, her free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For a second, you thought she might pull away, but instead, she stayed, her eyes lingering on yours with such intensity that you couldn’t help but feel your heart race.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Kazuha’s soft smile stopped you. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered, still holding your hand. “I just… I’m glad it’s you.”
With the act almost becoming real, the rumors spread quickly, just as Kazuha had hoped. You started noticing curious looks and hearing whispers as the two of you walked down the halls every day. It didn’t take long for the rumors to reach Kazuha’s parents as other kids were beginning to tell their parents about the visual-like couple.
But not everyone seemed thrilled by it. Tsuki, a girl you wouldn’t usually see around Kazuha before, started lurking nearby during lunch, watching the two of you with narrowed eyes. Finally, one day, she approached your table, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Kazuha,” she began dismissively, looking Kazuha up and down with a disdainful expression. “Is this the best you could do?” She snorted, her gaze lingering on you. “I thought you had standards. Isn’t she…a bit out of your league?” You were surprised, trying to hide it. She was talking to you, saying Kazuha was out of your league? You could almost laugh at the comment.
You clenched your jaw but stayed silent, waiting to see how Kazuha would respond. Kazuha’s eyes darkened as she opened her mouth to retort, but you placed a gentle hand on her arm, shaking your head slightly. You turned to Tsuki, keeping your voice steady.
“Funny,” you said, meeting Tsuki’s gaze. “I didn’t realize other people’s standards were your concern.” You offered a polite but firm smile. 
Tsuki glared but huffed, turning on her heel and walking away, though not without a parting sneer. Kazuha looked at you, her tension easing as she let out a relieved breath. “Thanks,” she murmured, a hint of a smile returning to her face.
Finally, the night of the ball arrived. You dressed in the tailored pantsuit, running a hand through your styled hair and taking a deep breath as you checked your reflection. When you arrived at the large venue hall to meet her parents, you found yourself on edge, but Kazuha reassured you with a warm smile.
Her parents, Mitsuko and Ichiro, greeted you with polite smiles, though you could tell they were evaluating you closely. As you settled into introductions, Mitsuko eyed you thoughtfully. “So, Y/n,” she said smoothly, her eyes flickering to Kazuha with a hint of warmth, “we’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
“Only good things, I hope,” you replied with a smile, and Ichiro chuckled.
Kazuha’s hand brushed yours briefly as she added, “Yes, all good things. You’ve been such a huge support with my studies and…well, life in general.”
Her parents exchanged a look, the conversation continuing as the ball’s formalities began. You mingled, keeping up the act seamlessly as the night went on, and found yourself growing more comfortable in the role. Each smile from Kazuha felt a little more real, every glance just a little warmer.
The ball was in full swing, with the lights of the crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the elegant scene. You and Kazuha mingled effortlessly with her family’s guests, moving from one conversation to the next, and each time someone asked about Kazuha’s new “girlfriend,” you surprised yourself with how naturally the words flowed. You talked about her with such ease and admiration that anyone listening would have believed you were truly in love. Kazuha noticed, her gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity.
At one point, she pulled you aside to thank you, whispering, “You’re really selling this, you know? My parents adore you.” She had said it as a joke, but her eyes showed unmistakable warmth. 
You grinned. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”
As the night wore on, you found yourself enjoying the warmth of her hand in yours, the comfortable way she leaned into you as you navigated the crowd together. Yet, as much as you were swept up in the moment, a pang of guilt ate at you. This was Kazuha’s world, not yours, and even though you’d agreed to this arrangement, you couldn’t shake the weight of knowing why you’d accepted it in the first place.
Needing a moment to gather your thoughts, you excused yourself and slipped outside to the balcony. The cool night air wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, trying to calm the flood of emotions that had crept up on you out of nowhere.
Kazuha must have noticed your absence because a few minutes later, she appeared beside you, her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey… is everything okay?” She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
You took a deep breath, deciding that it was time to be honest. “I… Kazuha, I took your offer because my dad’s restaurant is in massive debt. It felt like the only way I could help him. I know I shouldn’t feel bad because you asked, but—”
She cut you off with a soft smile, shaking her head. “Y/n, you don’t have to explain. This was my idea, remember? If anything, I should be thanking you. You’re helping me way more than I expected, and… honestly, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side right now.”
Her words were gentle and understanding, but she could tell you still felt uneasy. So, she took your hand, looking up at you with an earnest expression. “You’re always talking about how much you love your dad’s restaurant. How it’s more than just a place to work—it’s part of who you are. And I get that. So…” She paused, her voice softening. “I want to help you. I want to invest in the restaurant, help with renovations, whatever it takes to keep it running.”
Your eyes widened, and you were at a loss for words for a moment. “Kazuha, you don’t have to do that…”
“I want to,” she replied, her gaze steady. “You’re doing this for me. Let me do this for you.”
At that moment, the full weight of her offer, of her kindness, settled over you. She wasn’t doing this out of pity—she genuinely wanted to help. And that thought, that selflessness, made you see her in a completely new light.
She flashed a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Plus, just imagine the look on everyone’s faces when they realize their favorite restaurant got a glow-up, courtesy of Nakamura Kazuha.”
You laughed, feeling some of the tension in your chest dissolve. “Alright, alright. But don’t think you can just buy your way to my heart, Nakamura.”
“Oh, please,” she teased, nudging your shoulder. “You know I don’t have to buy anything.”
As the weeks passed, Kazuha threw herself into the project with as much passion as you had for the restaurant. She helped with renovations, shared updates on her social media, and made sure her friends and family spread the word. When the grand reopening day finally arrived, a line stretched down the block. The place was packed, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air as your dad greeted customers, overwhelmed by the support.
At this point, she didn’t even have to pay you the 100,000 yen. This was so much more than enough for you and your father.
“Y/n,” he started, pausing as if searching for the right words. “Your girlfriend… she gave us a second chance at life.”
You looked up, surprised by the emotion in his voice. He rarely spoke like this, always focusing more on action than words. He noticed your silence and continued, his gaze softening in a way you hadn’t seen in years.
“I remember when your mother and I first opened this place,” he said, a hint of nostalgia in his tone. “Back then, it was just the two of us, struggling to make it work, but it was worth every late night, every sacrifice… because we had each other. And now, seeing you and Kazuha—she’s doing for you what your mother and I did for each other. Giving you support, standing by you.”
Your father’s eyes gleamed as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “She didn’t have to help us, go out of her way. But she did, all for you. That says something. Don’t take that for granted.”
You nodded, processing his words as they settled into your heart. He smiled knowingly, giving you a soft pat on the back. “I can tell how much you care about her. And I know it scares you a little. But don’t let that stop you. Hold on to her. People like that… they don’t come around often. And when they do, you don’t let them go.”
Your throat tightened, gratitude welling up inside you. Hearing your dad’s approval, especially about Kazuha, meant everything. You thought of all the small moments—her smile, her laughter, the way she showed up for you without asking anything in return. It all hit you at once, the depth of what you had.
“Thanks, Dad,” you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips. “I really do like her.”
He chuckled, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a kid. “Good. Then don’t let anything hold you back.”
Watching from a distance, you couldn’t help but glance over at Kazuha, who stood beside you, taking in the bustling scene with a proud smile. “This is all thanks to you,” you said quietly.
She met your gaze, a soft glint in her eyes. “No, Y/n. It’s thanks to us.”
Months had passed, and with each shared moment, your feelings for Kazuha were now real to you, basically official. Every late-night conversation, every stolen glance, every quiet laugh over shared secrets had pulled you closer to her, and it was clear now: you were completely, undeniably in love with her.
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One evening, Kazuha’s parents invited you over for dinner, a formal yet comfortable gathering at their home. The dining room was elegantly set, with an array of food laid out on the table. As you sat beside Kazuha, her hand resting discreetly on your knee beneath the table, you tried to focus on the food and polite conversation, but the weight of her parents’ glances didn’t go unnoticed. Something about how they looked at you tonight was different—almost piercing as if they were assessing you anew.
Midway through the meal, Kazuha’s mother, Mitsuko, set down her glass and fixed her gaze on you with a soft, almost too-knowing smile. “Y/n, we wanted to tell you how wonderful you’ve been for Kazuha. We’ve seen her happier and more at ease, especially these last few months. We’re grateful for that.”
Her father, Ichiro, nodded in agreement, though his gaze was more reserved. “Yes. And we noticed your father’s restaurant has been doing much better since… well since it became known that you’re dating our daughter.”
You felt your pulse quicken, sensing a shift in the room. They were putting the pieces together, tracing Kazuha’s involvement in your life and her influence on your father’s business. The implications were there, and you realized they must be questioning if any of this was genuine.
Kazuha’s hand tightened on your knee, a silent reassurance, but you couldn’t ignore how her parents’ gazes seemed to look through you, waiting for an answer. Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to be honest. You looked at both of them, then turned to Kazuha, the words coming from your heart.
“When Kazuha first asked me to help her… I agreed, partly because my dad was struggling. I knew it was risky and how that might look to you now. But the truth is, I never expected this to happen. I never expected to fall for her.”
The room went silent, and Kazuha’s parents watched you with unreadable expressions. Heart pounding, you looked directly into Kazuha’s eyes, unable to hold back the feelings that had been building over the months. “Kazuha, you’re… so much more than I ever imagined. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. I fell in love with you. Completely. I want this—for real, if you do, too.”
Kazuha’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly as she took in your words. Her cheeks flushed, and for a brief moment, slightly embarrassed with her parents there. She looked as if she were struggling to breathe. Her eyes began to glisten, and a tear slipped down her cheek, though she made no effort to wipe it away. She reached for your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as she nodded, a smile trembling on her lips.
“I’ve been hoping you’d say that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I’ve fallen for you, too, Y/n. And I’m tired of pretending.” Her voice grew stronger, her gaze fierce as she held your hand tightly. “I want this. Us. For real.”
Kazuha’s parents exchanged glances, their expressions softening as they took in the scene before them. Her mother leaned forward, a gentle smile on her face. “Well,” Mitsuko said softly, “it sounds like you two have found something real after all.” She looked at you, her approval evident in her eyes. “We only want what’s best for Kazuha, and if that’s you… then welcome to the family.”
Kazuha’s father nodded, a small but genuine smile gracing his usually serious expression. “Take care of each other, and take this real relationship seriously,” he said simply, with respect in his tone.
As you left that evening, hand in hand with Kazuha, you couldn’t believe how everything had unfolded. The guilt that had weighed on you for so long was gone, replaced by a new feeling—a warmth, security, knowing that this was real. Kazuha leaned her head on your shoulder as you walked. The night air cooled around you, and you smiled, kissing the top of her head.
“Looks like we’re not pretending anymore,” you murmured, and Kazuha laughed softly, her arm wrapping around yours.
“Not even a little bit.”
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almightygremlinblob · 6 months ago
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Sukuna Ryomen HCs - Canon & Fanon!
CONTENT WARNINGS: Unbeta'd. None, for the first part - which may as well be a part character analysis of sorts along with hcs. Under the cut is when stuff gets weird. So minors and those uncomfy with anything remotely sexual don't click the "Keep Reading" and just scroll past! Will put another warning, tho, just in case.
Personally I LOVE Sukuna's true form, but these can be read as any of his forms (except for the tummy mouth stuff, haha).
Word Count: 1694
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Sukuna HCs - Canon Sukuna
1.) Aromantic, Asexual and sex repulsed or; Demiromantic, Asexual and sex repulsed. Listen. Has never done anything to Uraume (MY LOVE) - well, that we know of, anyway. Yorozu, beautiful, beautiful Yorozu, hugs him completely nakey; no reaction AT ALL. Kenny sleeps with his brother and it's "Kenjaku does the grosest things." Come on. 2.) Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually think he's super arrogant. He just STRONGLY believes that the weak should eat their suffering at the hands of the strong - and he's at the top of the food chain. All that smirking during the fights, talking down his opponents and just generally toying with them, completely lines up with his worldview. Even when he converses with Yorozu about her conditions for winning, he says that she can do whatever she wants with him because if he loses, that's "akin to death" and she proves herself stronger than him - again with the previous point. His worldview doesn't exclude himself just because he's been given the title of the strongest, unlike a lot of arrogant characters who think they're exempt from the rules they "follow". Sukuna seems to be…like a whole lot of neutral, as long as it lines up with his worldview. When it DOESN'T (ahem-his soul nephew-ahem), then he begin to lose it. 3.) Speaking of, he's obsessed with Jujutsu and honing his craft, having good food and a good fight - it's all he wants. Sukuna doesn't care where he stands at the food chain, he'll accept if there's an opponent stronger than him and die happy, and if it's weaker but puts up a good fight then he'll kill it and still be happy. He's living moment to moment, doing what makes him happy, poking at whatever interests him and living his life according to his values. (Sounds good on paper but ALSO just sounds like he's chasing the next "high" as long as it comes from an opponent that lines up with his beliefs). 4.) Is a wonderful artist and poet and, much like traditional Japanese painting (which is surprisingly close to Chinese painting), he prefers ink for his works and calligraphy, charcoal, too. He would have plenty of it back in the Heian era. 🙃 5.) UNWANTED. As a child he was unwanted, as a sorcerer nobody liked him or working with him (also because he was tricky to work with - essentially using the other sorcerers to get the upper hand in battle), curses tried to stay clear of him, and even when he was worshipped nobody wanted to do it - they only did it to get on his good graces or get something from him. Sukuna may have been a king, but he was an unwanted one, all the same - an unwanted king who sat in his empty temple. 6.) Views Jin as simply part of himself, because by Jujutsu standards that's the case - twins are considered one - and the Jujutsu world is heavily tied to his worldview. However, Jin himself is a completely different person; personality, physique and all. 7.) Hates modern food. Just…hates it. From the meat, to the veggies, to the spices, to the PEOPLE. It tastes SOOO BAD to him. Everything's become more abundant but at WHAT COST??? Quality of the food is out the window completely. Only Uraume can make something decent out of everything (leave it to our favorite chef). Because most animal meat was prohibited from consumption in the Heian era due to the influence of Buddhism (as far as I know), he had a lot of those to choose from back then. One of the dishes he did eat frequently, though, was Hishio with rice and some kind of meat (any he had access to at the time). 8.) Loves fighting because that's when his worldview IS a reality. It's only win or lose, the strong or the weak…AND THEN THERE'S YUUJI- 9.) Given the themes surrounding his character, and Yuuji's, actually, the quote by Alfred Lord Tennyson comes to mind; "Tis better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all." 10.) Generally doesn't like to be stared or looked at unless it's in a fight - he's had plenty of staring and hushed whispers back in the Heian era.
Sukuna HCs - Fanon Sukuna x Reader
These are not specified to be romantic or platonic, and can be read however you'd like. Reader's gender or sex is not specified.
1.) Expect stern, gentle and very QUIET comfort from this guy. Sukuna isn't one to coddle, and he might even be annoyed if you're crying. If he isn't wordlessly wiping your tears away, he'll be softly chastising you for crying over "someone so insignificant" or "a situation you can easily handle". He's not trying to belittle your problems, not at all - he recognizes your strong points, where they are, and he just truly KNOWS you can handle whatever it is you're facing. It's less "Stop being so dramatic, it's annoying." and more "What are you upset about? You can handle this easy…" 2.) Doesn't like grandeur displays of affection, it reminds him of all the (frankly fake) worship he recieved in the Heian era. He appreciates small and meaningful gestures SO MUCH more. Likewise, he also gives small and meaningful gestures to his favorite person; a poem, a painting, good food, letting your touch linger, letting you stare at him. Don't talk down on him or about him, though, and keep the teasing to a minimum; he does demand some level of respect. 💜 3.) As stated before, he's obsessed with Jujutsu and honing his craft, having good food and a good fight - it's all he wants. But then you come along and make days without that…somehow bearable? And then somehow he begins to seek out your company. And then somehow, he feels anxious and as if something's missing without it. 4.) The tummy mouth WILL purr, but it's more of a low and content growling than a cat or cheetah's purr. 5.) Sukuna doesn't like to be looked at, although your gaze doesn't bother him as much. However, he does NOT like it when your attention is on someone else when you're with him - even if you can't look - he needs to know your mind is ON HIM, still.
Alright you know the drill. Minors and anyone uncomfy with anything remotely sexual DNI further, and just scroll past this. Don't click the "Keep Reading" if you don't wanna see all the romantic or sex-y stuff, and just go on with your day furendo!
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Fanon Sukuna - Romantic & Explicit
⚠️Further Content Warnings:⚠️ Soft Sukuna, Sukuna fluff, Virgin!Sukuna, Whiny Sukuna, as usual Sukuna writings = food metaphors.
1.) Falls first, face first, and falls HARD. Was in complete denial because "love is trash" but this feeling is…actually NICE??? Actually makes his days better??? For once he's not bored out of his mind (and nearly to insanity) when he's not fighting or eating??? 2.) Virgin. Guy is inexperienced with all genders and sexes. Listen, as much as I love King!Sukuna and his favorite concubine trope, I'll have to do the 180 here. The guy probably never touched anyone in his life - cuz he also didn't want to. Why would he, when all the women and men offered to him were sacrifices from families with ulterior motives, and who were, themselves, harboring alterior motives, too? Nobody actually wants to be with him - he was an unwanted king, with followers who only bowed to get on his good graces and GET SOMETHING from him. Why would he want what they were offering? 3.) This guy has never been this close and intimate with anyone in a way that's not TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER, and it takes him quite a bit of time to get used to this. It's all so overwhelming the first few times; the emotions, and the pleasure of it, and the fact that he's being so vulnerable with YOU. However, once he starts to get more comfortable, then he gets more eager and if we've seen anything about him - it's that he's a fast learner. Starts to pick up on what feels good for the both of you. Starts to look forward to it, too. 4.) He'll tease you - of course, but all the same he'll growl and whimper and plead for you, too. Yes, the tummy mouth will also growl and whine. The sweet noises he makes are reserved for you and only you. 5.) He WILL lick and taste your skin, let his teeth dig softly into your flesh but never biting too deep to break it - it's his favorite thing to do. Remember how he can manifest multiple mouths? Yeah, he's absolutely doing that to taste you more. 6.) His kisses, once hesitant and dare you say - shy, become passionate. Way too passionate. It's overwhelming. His tongue tastes every part of your mouth he can, gently biting and suckling and licking your lips (your neck, your shoulders, your wrists, your SKIN in general...) as if to drain the blood from them, hands roaming your body and kneading the soft flesh. Every part of you like a feast he can almost eat. 7.) Slow and intense lovemaking; almost violent in a way that feels like he's trying to literally devour you. 8.) Does NOT like your attention elsewhere and WILL NOT share you during lovemaking. Think about him, not someone or something else. Be with him, not elsewhere. Look at him, and only him.
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GOD is it difficult to be a Sukuna fan sometimes - especially if you like other characters, too. Especially Gojo and Yuji...coughs awkwardly. Well that'd be just terrible now wouldn't it?
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najia-cooks · 10 months ago
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[ID: A circle of overlapping semi-circular bright pink pickles arranged on a plate, viewed from a low angle. End ID]
مخلل اللفت / Mukhallal al-lifit (Pickled turnips)
The word "مُخَلَّل" ("mukhallal") is derived from the verb "خَلَّلَ"‎ ("khallala"), meaning "to preserve in vinegar." "Lifit" (with diacritics, Levantine pronunciation: "لِفِتْ"), "turnip," comes from the root "ل ف ت‎", which produces words relating to being crooked, turning aside, and twisting (such as "لَفَتَ" "lafata," "to twist, to wring"). This root was being used to produce a word meaning "turnip" ("لِفْتْ" "lift") by the 1000s AD, perhaps because turnips must be twisted or wrung out of the ground.
Pickling as a method of preserving produce so that it can be eaten out of season is of ancient origin. In the modern-day Levant, pickles (called "طَرَاشِيّ‎" "ṭarāshiyy"; singular "طُرْشِيّ" "ṭurshiyy") make up an important culinary category: peppers, carrot, olives, eggplant, cucumber, cabbage, cauliflower, and lemons are preserved with vinegar or brine for later consumption.
Pickled turnips are perhaps the most commonly consumed pickles in the Levant. They are traditionally prepared during the turnip harvest in the winter; in the early spring, once they have finished their slow fermentation, they may be added to appetizer spreads, served as a side with breakfast, lunch, or dinner, eaten on their own as a snack, or used to add pungency to salads, sandwiches, and wraps (such as shawarma or falafel). Tarashiyy are especially popular among Muslim Palestinians during the holy month of رَمَضَان (Ramaḍān), when they are considered a must-have on the إِفْطَا�� ("ʔifṭār"; fast-breaking meal) table. Pickle vendors and factories will often hire additional workers in the time leading up to Ramadan in order to keep up with increased demand.
In its simplest instantiation, mukhallal al-lifit combines turnips, beetroot (for color), water, salt, and time: a process of anaerobic lacto-fermentation produces a deep transformation in flavor and a sour, earthy, tender-crisp pickle. Some recipes instead pickle the turnips in vinegar, which produces a sharp, acidic taste. A pink dye (صِبْغَة مُخَلَّل زَهْرِي‎; "ṣibgha mukhallal zahri") may be added to improve the color. Palestinian recipes in particular sometimes call for garlic and green chili peppers. This recipe is for a "slow pickle" made with brine: thick slices of turnip are fermented at room temperature for about three weeks to produce a tangy, slightly bitter pickle with astringency and zest reminiscent of horseradish.
Turnips are a widely cultivated crop in Palestine, but, though they make a very popular pickle, they are seldom consumed fresh. One Palestinian dish, mostly prepared in Hebron, that does not call for their fermentation is مُحَشّي لِفِتْ ("muḥashshi lifit")—turnips that are cored, fried, and stuffed with a filling made from ground meat, rice, tomato, and sumac or tamarind. In Nablus, tahina and lemon juice may be added to the meat and rice. A similar dish exists in Jordan.
Turnips produced in the West Bank are typically planted in open fields (as opposed to in or under structures such as plastic tunnels) in November and harvested in February, making them a fall/winter crop. Because most of them are irrigated (rather than rain-fed), their yield is severely limited by the Israeli military's siphoning off of water from Palestine's natural aquifers to settlers and their farms.
Israeli military order 92, issued on August 15th, 1967 (just two months after the order by which Israel had claimed full military, legislative, executive, and judicial control of the West Bank on June 7th), placed all authority over water resources in the hands of an Israeli official. Military order 158, issued on November 19th of the same year, declared that no one could establish, own, or administer any water extraction or processing construction (such as wells, water purification plants, or rainwater collecting cisterns) without a new permit. Water infrastructure could be searched for, confiscated, or destroyed at will of the Israeli military. This order de facto forbid Palestinians from owning or constructing any new water infrastructure, since anyone could be denied a permit without reason; to date, no West Bank Palestinian has ever been granted a permit to construct a well to collect water from an aquifer.
Nearly 30 years later, the Interim Agreement on the West Bank and the Gaza Strip (also called the Oslo II Accord or the Taba Agreement), signed by Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) in 1995, officially granted Israel the full control over water resources in occupied Palestine that it had earlier claimed. The Argreement divided the West Bank into regions of three types—A, B, and C—with Israel given control of Area C, and the Palestinian Authority (PA) supposedly having full administrative power over Area A (about 3% of the West Bank at the time).
In fact, per article 40 of Annex 3, the PA was only allowed to administer water distribution in Area A, so long as their water usage did not exceed what had been allocated to them in the 1993 Oslo Accord, a mere 15% of the total water supply: they had no administrative control over water resources, all of which were owned and administered by Israel. This interim agreement was to be returned to in permanent status negotiations which never occurred.
The cumulative effect of these resolutions is that Palestinians have no independent access to water: they are forbidden to collect water from underground aquifers, the Jordan River, freshwater springs, or rainfall. They are, by law and by design, fully reliant on Israel's grid, which distributes water very unevenly; a 2023 report estimated that Israeli settlers (in "Israel" and in the occupied West Bank) used 3 times as much water as Palestinians. Oslo II estimations of Palestinians' water needs were set at a static number of million cubic meters (mcm), rather than an amount of water per person, and this number has been adhered to despite subsequent growth in the Palestinian population.
Palestinians who are connected to the Israeli grid may open their taps only to find them dry (for as long as a month at a time, in بَيْت لَحْم "bayt laḥm"; Bethlehem, and الخَلِيل "al-khalīl"; Hebron). Families rush to complete chores that require water the moment they discover the taps are running. Those in rural areas rely on cisterns and wells that they are forbidden to deepen; new wells and reservoirs that they build are demolished in the hundreds by the Israeli military. Water deficits must be made up by paying steep prices for additional tankards of water, both through clandestine networks and from Israel itself. As climate change makes summers hotter and longer, the crisis worsens.
By contrast, Israeli settlers use water at will. Israel, as the sole authority over water resources, has the power to transfer water between aquifers; in practice, it uses this authority to divert water from the Jordan River basin, subterranean aquifers, and بُحَيْرَة طَبَرِيَّا ("buḥayrat ṭabariyyā"; Lake Tiberias) into its national water carrier (built in 1964), and from there to other regions, including the Negev Desert (south of the West Bank) and settlements within the West Bank.
Whenever Israel annexes new land, settlers there are rapidly given access to water; the PA, however, is forbidden to transport water from one area of the West Bank to another. Israel's control over water resources is an important part of the settler colonial project, as access to water greatly influences the desirability of land and the expected profit to be gained through its agricultural exports.
The result of the diversion of water is to increase the salinity of the Eastern Aquifer (in the West Bank, on the east bank of the Jordan River) and the remainder of the Jordan that flows into the West Bank, reducing the water's suitability for drinking and irrigation; in addition, natural springs and wells in Palestine have run dry. In this environment, water for drinking and watering crops and livestock is given priority, and many Palestinians struggle to access enough water to shower or wash clothing regularly. In extreme circumstances, crops may be left for dead, as Palestinian farmers instead seek out jobs tending Israeli fields.
Some areas in Palestine are worse off in this regard than others. Though water can be produced more easily in the قَلْقِيلية (Qalqilya), طُولْكَرْم (Tulkarm) and أَرِيحَا ("ʔarīḥā"; Jericho) Districts than in others, the PA is not permitted to transfer water from these areas to areas where water is scarcer, such as the Bethlehem and Al-Khalil Districts. In Al-Khalil, where almost a third of Palestinian acreage devoted to turnips is located [1], and where farming families such as the Jabars cultivate them for market, water usage averaged just 51 liters per person per day in 2020—compare this to the West Bank Palestinian average of 82.4 liters, the WHO recommended daily minimum of 100 liters, and the Israeli average of 247 liters per person per day.
As Israeli settlement גִּבְעַת חַרְסִינָה (Givat Harsina) encroached on Al-Khalil in 2001, with a subdivision being built over the bulldozed Jabar orchard, the Jabars reported settlers breaking their windows, destroying their garden, throwing rocks, and holding rallies on the road leading to their house. In 2010, with the growth of the קִרְיַת־אַרְבַּע (Kiryat Arba) settlement (officially the parent settlement of Givat Harsina), the Jabars' entire irrigation system was repeatedly torn out, with the justification that they were stealing water from the Israeli water authority; the destruction continued into 2014. Efforts at connecting and expanding Israeli settlements in the Bethlehem area continue to this day.
Thus we can see that water deprivation is one tool among many used to drive Palestinians from their land; and that it is connected to a strategy of rendering agriculture impossible or unprofitable for them, forcing them into a state of dependence on the Israeli economy.
Turnips, as well as cabbage and chili peppers, are also grown in the village of وَادِي فُوقِين (Wadi Fuqin), west of Bethlehem. In 2014, Israel annexed about 1,250 acres of land in Wadi Fuqin, or a third of the village's land, "effectively [ruling] out development of the village and its use of this land for agriculture." Most of this land lies immediately to the west of a group of settlements Israel calls גּוּשׁ עֶצְיוֹן ("Gush Etzion"; Etzion Bloc). Building here would link several non-contiguous Israeli settlements with each other and with القدس (Al-Quds; "Jerusalem"), hemming Palestinians of the region in on all sides (many main roads through Israeli settlements cannot be used by anyone with a Palestinian ID). [2] PLO executive committee member Hanan Ashrawi said that the annexation, which was carried out "[u]nder the cover of [Israel's] latest campaign of aggression in Gaza," "represent[ed] Israel’s deliberate intent to wipe out any Palestinian presence on the land".
This, of course, was not the beginning of this strategy: untreated sewage from Gush Etzion settlements had been contaminating crops, springs, and groundwater in Wadi Fuqin since 2006, which also saw nearly 100 acres of Palestinian land annexed to allow for expansion of the Etzion Bloc.
All of this has obviously had an effect on Palestinian agriculture. A 1945–6 British survey of vegetable production in Palestine found that 992 dunums were devoted to Arab turnip production (954 irrigated and 38 rain-fed; no turnip production was attributed to Jewish settlers). A March 1948 UN report claimed that "[i]n most districts the markets are well-supplied with all the common winter vegetables—cabbages, cauliflowers, lettuce and spinach; carrots, turnips and and beets; beans and peas; green onions, eggplants, marrows and tomatoes." By 2009, however, the area given to turnips in Palestine had fallen to 918 dunums. Of these, 864 dunums were irrigated and 54 rain-fed. This represents an increase in unirrigated turnips (5.8%, up from 3.9%) that is perhaps related to difficulty in obtaining sufficient water.
Meanwhile, Israel profits from its restriction of Palestinian agriculture; it is the largest exporter of turnips in West Asia (I found no data for turnip exports from Palestine after 1922, suggesting that the produce is all for local consumption).
The pattern that Ashrawi called out in 2014 continued in 2023, as Israel's genocide in Gaza occurs alongside the continued and escalating killing and expulsion of West Bank Palestinians. The 2014 annexations, which represented the largest land grab for over 30 years and which appeared to institute a new era of state policy, have been followed up in subsequent years with more land claims and settlement-building.
Israeli military and settler raids and massacres in the West Bank, which had already killed 248 in 2023 before the حَمَاس (Hamas) October 7 offensive had taken place, accelerated after the attack, with forced expulsions of Palestinians (including Bedouin Arabs), and harassment, raids, kidnappings, and torture of Palestinians by a military armed with rifles, tanks, and drones. This violence has been opposed by armed resistance groups, who defend refugee camps from military raids with strategies including the use of improvised explosives.
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[1] 918 dunums were devoted to turnips according to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics (PCBS) report for 2009; the 2008 PCBS report attributes 253 dunums of turnip cultivation to Al-Khalil ("Hebron") for 2006–7.
[2] Today, Gush Etzion is connected to Al-Quds by an underground road that runs beneath the Palestinian Christian town of بَيتْ جَالَا (Bayt Jala).
Ingredients:
Makes 2 1-liter mason jars.
500g (4 medium) turnips
1 beetroot
1 medium green chili pepper (فلفل حار خضرة), halved
2 small cloves garlic, peeled
1 liter (4 cups) distilled or filtered water
25g coarse sea salt (or substitute an equivalent weight of any salt without iodine)
Some brining recipes for lifit call for the addition of a spoonful of sugar. This will increase the activity of lactic-acid-producing bacteria at the beginning of the fermentation, producing a quicker fermentation and a different, sourer flavor profile.
Instructions:
1. Clean two large mason jars thoroughly in hot water (there is no need to sterilize them).
2. Scrub vegetables thoroughly. Cut the top (root) and bottom off of each turnip. Cut each turnip in half (from root end to bottom), and then in 1 cm (1/2") slices (perpendicular to the last cut). Prepare the beetroot the same way.
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If you need your pickles to be finished sooner, cut the turnips into thinner slices, or into thick (1/2") baton shapes; these will need to be fermented for about a week.
3. Arrange turnip and beet slices so that they lie flat in your jars. Add garlic and peppers.
4. Whisk salt into water until dissolved and pour over the turnips until they are fully submerged. Seal with the jar's lid and leave in a cool place, or the refrigerator, for 20–24 days.
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The amount of brine that you will need to cover the top of the vegetables will depend on the shape of your jar. If you add more water, make sure that you add more salt in the same ratio.
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fireandiceland · 1 month ago
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Hetalia characters with dishes typical for their country - part 2 (part 1 here)
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Spain: Paella de marisco (seafood paella) -> A surprisingly easy to make dish consisting of saffron infused rice with seafood. Other versions can also be made with meat from livestock (like the paella valenciana with chicken and rabbit) or be made vegetarian. The word "paella" is Valencian/Catalan and translates to "frying pan", the name of the dish originating from how it is traditionally cooked in a wide, shallow pan.
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Prussia: Königsberger Klopse (königsberger dumplings) -> Named after the capital of East Prussia, these dumplings are made from minced vail, pork, or beef mixed with onions, eggs, and soaked white bread and cooked in saltwater. Some of the brewing water is then thickened into a sauce using roux, egg yolk and cream. It is traditionally served with boiled or mashed potatoes. Back then in Königsberg itself, the dish was known as Saure Klopse (sour dumplings).
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South Italy: Pizza Margherita -> This flatbread made from leavened yeast dough topped with crushed tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and basil leaves. It is said to have earned it's name from appealing greatly to the Italian Queen Margherita when she tried the Neapolitan speciality, though newer reseach suggests that the name Margherita wasn't used until 40-50 years after the alleged incident.
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Finland: Mustikkapiirakka (blueberry cake) -> Berries play a very important part in Finnish food culture, especially hand picked forest blueberries which are often turned into pastries and pies. A particularly popular pie is made with the pie crust eased into the tart tin with floured hands (not rolled out), then the blueberries and a custard filling are added and the cake baked until the top becomes golden-brown.
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Sweden: Kannelbulle (cinnamon roll) -> Despite other Nordic countries claiming the invention of the sweet roll, very year on 4 October Sweden celebrates "Cinnamon Roll Day". A sheet of dough is covered in butter, sugar, and cinnamon, then rolled up and cut into the characteristic pieces. The are traditionlly baked in muffin wrappers and only dusted with sugar, they are lighter and less sweet than American cinnamon buns with icing.
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Denmark: Flødeboller (cream puff) -> The fluffy, foamy inside of this treat is made from beaten egg whites mixed with sugar, dressed on a wafer and covered in chocolate. Often they are topped with coconut flakes, shredded almonds, or colourful sprinkles, making them a popular little "cake" for danish children to have for someone's birthday at school. They were first invented around 1800 in Denmark, but quickly became popular in France and Germany as well.
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Norway: Kvæfjordkake (Kvæfjord cake) -> This sponge cake baked with meringue with almonds on top and then layered with vanilla or rum custard (sometimes mixed with whipped cream), is also dubbed the best cake in the world - Verdens beste. The name is based on the region it's inventer originates from. Starting in the 1930s as a variation of the kongekake ("king cake") with less almonds, as they were quite expensive, it is now a popular dessert for special celebrations.
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Iceland: Rjómabollur (profiterole) -> A little sweet treat made from choux pastry filled with jam and whipped cream, the top dipped in chocolate and decorated with sprinkles. Traditionally, they are eaten on "Bun Day", the Monday before Ash Wednesday. Kids wake their parent up by smacking them with paper wands and every smack on the parent's bottom before their feet touch the ground translates into one bun which the parent owes to the child.
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