#probably even worse for vegans

[antigne]

this is more of a personal rant but people are so fucking weird about vegetarianism/veganism. i’ve been vegetarian for almost 5 years now and it’s definitely been getting better to have conversations about it and find good food at restaurants but like. sometimes you’ll go to a restaurant and ask what the vegetarian options are and the waiter will be like let me think… i think our only option is the Unseasoned Slab of Cabbage. people think vegetarian food is like that green slime carly makes in that one episode of icarly. but like. a regular quesadilla? vegetarian. rice and beans? vegetarian. ceasar salad? vegetarian. but then the second you replace meat with tofu some people act like you are performing an otherworldly ritual. my dad calls vegetarian food “naturey food”. like it’s literally cheese calm down

[itsbrucey]

wanna draw the dad's bullying my OC Dulcie. Not in an actually mean way but the way they treated Doug. Because that's fun

[genekies]

screaming in the club

time for another vent in tags

[episims]

Turn On/Off Replacements: No Zombies Edition + 3t2 Trait Support

This is basically an update of my TO replacements, but I want to keep the post clear, so I'm sharing it as a new version.

Here's what got changed:

⭐ No More Glasses Zombie TO Instead of zombies, you'll get a brand new TO: Enthusiast. It's triggered by sims who are invested in their hobbies.

⭐ 3t2 Trait Support If you use 3t2 traits, sims with fitting traits will trigger directly related turn on/offs. This is only a subtle flavor; if you want the whole chemistry system to be trait-based, this mod isn't for you. These replacements still work just as well even if you don't have 3t2 traits in your game.

⭐ Polished Icons All the TS4 icons are now slightly smaller and hopefully work better with UI replacements. I also changed or edited some that I felt needed improving.

There are still two versions of the mod: the other replaces the Grey Hair TO with the Mersim one, the other leaves it untouched. Both versions are included with the download.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

Files are compressed. Probably requires all EPs. Conflicts with other turn on/off replacements (including my old versions), tunaisafish’s Attraction Traits Fix, and might conflict with cologne-related mods.

Compatible with UI replacements as long as this mod loads after.

🚨🚨 The Mersim version requires Midge’s Mermaid Mod.

Translations included: Spanish, Italian, Swedish, Finnish.

Update (29.8.2024): Fixed the life skills TO sometimes not updating properly upon changing TO replacements.

Update (31.3.2024): The alien trait by @tammyhybrid21 now triggers the Alien TO too.

Update (11.1.2024): Enthusiast TO now replaces zombies instead of glasses.

Update (11.1.2024): Changed it so that business owners with level 6 or higher business and young adults with a GPA 3.7 or higher also count as hard workers.

Credits to @lazyduchess, @midgethetree, and simler90 for the groundwork and bits and pieces used in the mod. Translations by @bothersomecryptid, @themeasureofasim, @dystopianam, and @vegan-kaktus.

Full list of the TOs under the cut.

Replaced TOs:

Cologne -> Life Skills (has learned at least two of the life skills)

Stink -> Poor (household fortune* ~§20 000 or lower)

Underwear -> Rich (household fortune* ~§100 000 or higher)

Swimwear -> Great Dancer (dance skill 6 or higher)

Formalwear -> Pet Lover (has at least two pet friends or the Animal Lover trait)

Full Face Makeup -> Talented (has at least one silver or gold talent badge)

Hats -> Good Reputation (reputation level Reputable Resident or better)

Jewelry -> Bad Reputation (reputation level Lousy Loser or worse)

Custom Hair -> Alien (either skintone, eyes, or both, or the alien trait)

Zombie -> Enthusiast (level 5 or higher on at least one hobby)

Grey Hair -> Mersim (with Mersim version)

TOs with additional new trait support:

Hard Worker (career level 6 or higher, teen career level 3, owned business level 6 or higher, young adult with a GPA 3.7 or higher, or the Workaholic trait)

Logical (logic skill 5 or higher or the Genius trait)

Charismatic (charisma skill 5 or higher or the Charismatic trait)

Great Cook (cooking skill 5 or higher or the Natural cook trait)

Mechanical (mechanic skill 5 or higher or the Handy trait)

Creative (creativity skill 5 or higher or the Artistic trait)

Athletic (body skill 5 or higher or the Athletic trait)

Good at Cleaning (cleaning skill 5 or higher or the Neat trait)

TOs with minor fixes:

Unemployed (young adults and business owners aren't counted as unemployed)

Robot (servos don't trigger hair color TOs)

Unedited TOs:

Fatness (TS4 icon)

Fitness (TS4 icon)

Facial Hair

Glasses (TS4 icon)

Makeup (TS4 icon)

Blonde Hair

Red Hair

Brown Hair

Black Hair

Grey Hair (without Mersim version)

Vampire (TS4 icon)

Plantsim (TS4 icon)

Lycanthropy (TS4 icon)

Witch (TS4 icon)

For the sake of cohesion, all the supernatural TOs now have simpler, singular names (instead of vampirism, plantsimism, and witchiness).

*The household fortune is counted by its funds, the lot value (if the home lot is residential), and other owned lots. The precise value that triggers the TO might slightly vary.

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell

1. Coriolanus Snow

-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore

-Great hair and fashion sense

-Love bombs you

-Old money

-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem

-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse

-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)

-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)

2. Sejanus Plinth

-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)

-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always

-New money and it shows in his insecurity

-Supportive asf

-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan

-Daddy issues

-Condemns Shein hauls

-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)

3. Lucy Gray Baird

-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you

-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya

-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair

-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together

-Old soul

-Thrifts, recycles

-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments

-Ghosts you after your make or break argument

4. Casca Highbottom

-Never asks about your day, his is always worse

-Drug addict in denial

-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)

-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included

-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor

-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP

-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)

5. Dr Gaul

-Devil Incarnate

-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)

-Petting zoo type of owner

-She always smells like chemicals and latex

-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)

-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent

-Insists her pet snake shares your bed

-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)

-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul

6. Lucky Flickerman

-A clown.

-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity

-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can

-Golden retriever boyfriend energy

-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it

-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose

-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny

-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass

-Cries during movies

7. Tigris

-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning

-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)

-Her family is a bunch of snobs

-Anything she touches turns into gold

-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")

-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning

-Empathetic asf

-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)

[chu-diaries]

100 days of mental healthcare: day 100/100

Well, it's over! I genuinely can't believe it's been 100 days since I started this challenge (even more than 100, since I skipped a day or two when I couldn't post).

For those who just arrived, I started this challenge in April, the day after my birthday, when I was really in bad health. I had severe panic attacks about 4 times a day, which made me unable to do anything. I dealt with constant suicidal thoughts, I barely slept anymore and I was spending everything I had on doctors, self-knowledge courses and therapies. I found myself with two options: the first was to invest in medications that would make me dependent and drugged, but that would fix my brain. However, there was a risk that I wouldn't get the dose or medication right in time and my situation would get worse. The second option was longer and more difficult: studying how my body, my brain and my limits worked, and then adjusting day after day what wasn't going well. You know that I chose this option and that I created the 100-day mental healthcare challenge to track my progress on this.

In these 100 days I learned a lot that I want to share here. As we are all unique and different human beings, you may not agree with what I applied in my life, but I ask for respect and empathy, because all of this saved me. Also, some points have a scientific basis in research I did and books I read.

1. mental health and nutrition

This was one of the first things I learned. I realized that when I was hungry, my body didn't give me clear signals. Probably due to my autism and ADHD, I was always disconnected from my body's needs and didn't know how to identify hunger (which I expected to be something like a growling in my stomach, but it never was that way). What actually happened was that, instead of hunger, I had a critical increase in my intrusive and suicidal thoughts, which made mealtimes much worse than they should have been. Our mind is more vulnerable when the body is not properly fed and hydrated, and many of us neurodivergent people will not feel hunger like neurotypicals do. Our body wants us to move to find food, so it sends us successive stimuli through our brains to fight for our lives and, well, eat. Some of these stimuli can be very negative and, instead of propelling us forward, they drain our energy and make us even more depressed, which also doesn't happen to the same extent with neurotypicals, who deal with this type of thing much better. To avoid this, I started eating every 3 hours, and not because a doctor told me to, but because I realized that my crises happened with this frequency. By eating regularly and preventively, my body stopped depending on this resource to nourish itself and I became more mentally stable.

2. mental healthcare and intestinal system

The gut is not our second brain for nothing. The health of our mind is completely connected to the health of our gut. You have certainly heard the phrase “you are what you eat” and it is true. What surprised me most in my studies was discovering that neurotypical and completely mentally healthy people develop mental disorders if their gut microbiota is altered. In other words, we must nourish our gut to maintain our mental health. The more diverse our microbiota is, the better our mental health will be. This means eating various foods per week, as colorful and natural as possible, because food industrialization is also partially responsible for the number of mental disorders that exist today.

3. mental healthcare and eating meat

This is a difficult topic, since I was a vegetarian for many years, but I want to share what I learned with you. The incidence of mental disorders is directly associated with the levels of omega 3, taurine and tryptophan. Omega 3 is a good fat and essential not only for maintaining memory, but for all of our cognitive functioning and, although it can be supplemented in a vegan way, it is not as accessible to everyone in the appropriate dosage as fish. Similarly, meat has high levels of taurine and tryptophan, which regulate anxiety and depression and improve sleep. For many years I did not eat meat, supplementing protein with vegetables and whey, and for all those years I suffered from anxiety and depression. I never imagined that my blood type would also suffer more from this lack of protein: blood type O struggles more to maintain mental health and ideal mood levels with vegetable proteins. It is a blood type that needs animal protein. Going back to eating meat was not an easy decision, but I decided to test it out: even though I ate a small amount of animal protein per day, my cognitive function improved a lot in these past 100 days. I became more mentally stable and stronger, my mood improved, my gut responded positively and suddenly the things that haunted me were no longer so big. I never thought that mental health and animal protein had any connection, but I was very surprised to discover that eating meat (or not) influences our mind.

4. mental healthcare and intrusive thoughts

Well, I studied psychology, but it was a theory that didn't deal with intrusive thoughts. In these 100 days I discovered this term and delved deep enough to understand that we all have intrusive thoughts. Neurotypicals deal with them better, while neurodivergents deal with them much worse. Unfortunately, I suffered a lot with these thoughts and suffered even more trying to understand why this was happening in my head. If you suffer from intrusive thoughts, start by understanding that they are not real and that they do not come from you consciously. An intrusive thought is something that crosses your mind and is similar to a scary radio station that you accidentally connected to. It does not belong to you. I learned to think (and I like this theory) that this is a way for the brain to prepare itself for various possibilities, even the most absurd and impossible ones. We are animals and our body wants to survive, so I understand that the brain explores various probabilities to always be prepared, no matter what happens. Of course, for anxious and depressed people this has the opposite effect and makes us want to die. Over time, you learn that you can’t control when these thoughts appear, but you can control how much power you give them. I deal with obsessive intrusive thoughts every day, but each day I’m becoming more and more able to not get emotionally involved with them. “It’s just a glitch in my brain,” I think, taking a deep breath.

5. mental healthcare and joy (which is worth more than solving problems)

I've always had a very fast-paced mind, cluttered with things and addicted to solving problems. In recent years I thought I should focus more on relaxing and opening up spaces in my mind, but I discovered that an empty mind can be treacherous for neurodivergent people. Our mind is, in fact, addicted to solving problems. That's how our species evolved and prospered. Our mind has an organizational structure that seeks, through connections and associations, to process past and future events, resolve pending issues and find solutions for what was left behind. We do this with everything, even with things that are not in our control. I spent a lot of my life trying to solve what was going on in my head and I was unsuccessful because I wasn't the one who created this situation. Although solving problems is a pattern of the mind, it is a sweet illusion. Many things are not actually solved, we only think they are. I discovered that the time I invested trying to solve mental problems that I did not create could be used to create happier foundations to strengthen myself. I learned that it is actually joy that heals, not obsessively thinking about the problem until it is solved. Every time I focused my energy on doing something good, laughing or contemplating nature, I became a little stronger and remembered who I am. I won't deny that I felt guilty - the cognitive rigidity of autism screamed at me that I was ignoring my problems and that I was creating a silly fantasy world. Even so, I fought to break out of this pattern. It is still difficult. But today I believe that I’m meant to be happy and that cultivating moments of joy makes life worthwhile.

6. mental healthcare and feeling useful

Feeling useful is essential for mental health. We all want to be part of something and be recognized as necessary. In these 100 days, I decided to resume some volunteer work within my community and I also opened a new company, with handmade products, so that I would also have the opportunity to produce something that was not only in the intellectual field (handicrafts are very good for those who suffer from anxiety). Having a dynamic routine in which you have an important role is great for mental health and your sense of self-authority. Also, getting in touch with other people's personal stories helps to decentralize our gaze from ourselves, which is very useful if you suffer from OCD. As tiring as it may be, the more diverse activities we do, the better our cognitive function becomes.

7. mental healthcare and moving the body

It's interesting that to take care of your mind, you need to get out of your head and move your body. Many of the tensions accumulated in our minds can be released by running, walking or playing some sport. It doesn't matter what it is, but move your body. We were not designed to stay still, but to do various strength, balance and endurance exercises. Our ancestors walked for days in search of shelter and food, and that's how our bodies evolved. Especially for those who suffer from anxiety, high-impact exercises not only help regulate your mood and release neurotransmitters, but also generate a stress spike that will do your body good for the rest of the day. When we trigger these spikes, our body answer quickly and creates new pathways to respond to stress, which helps us better deal with anxiety, depression, instructive thoughts, etc. Our sleep also improves, as we use our stored energy and tend to think less before going to sleep.

8. mental healthcare and sleep hygiene

I have always tried to force myself to be silent. I forced myself to meditate for many years, without much success, but after the panic attacks returned, meditating and being silent were torture. It was as if I made room for all my inner demons to dance in my mind and I always felt worse. I recently discovered that neurodivergent people struggle more with silence and that it does them a lot of good to distract their minds with sounds, images and other stimuli that allow them to emotionally engage with something real and outside of themselves. I see that it is a controversial topic, but I no longer believe in sleep hygiene without screens and complex content. My best nights of sleep were those in which I distracted myself with something until I fell asleep or listened to someone talking until I fell asleep. So if you want to test what works best for you, know your limits and do not blindly obey the orders that someone has set. Maybe you work better at dawn, maybe you only need 6 hours of sleep, maybe you are different from the average. Your life's work is to discover yourself and be true to it.

9. mental healthcare and developing self-authority

This was very important to me. I have always had low self-esteem and I have always believed in others more than in myself. I sought answers and cures for what I suffered from various doctors and therapists, but all of this only made my situation worse. I became dependent on diagnoses, consultations and sessions that never really helped me. At a certain point I decided that I would educate myself on the subjects that bothered me. I studied, and studied a lot, about psychology, neurology, neuroscience, nutrition and about the functioning of the body as a whole. Today I no longer accept any diagnosis about myself because I have developed my own authority. I am the authority when it comes to myself, you know? I don't need others to tell me what I am feeling because now I know what it is and where it comes from. I also know, fortunately, how to solve it. When I go to a doctor or have an exam, I know what I am investigating and what I need to achieve. It is very sad that today medicine is just a search for money and that you only get good care if you pay a lot for it, so it is important to get educated about yourself so you won’t fall into standardized speeches that will lead you to the ever-increasing consumption of pharmaceuticals and drugs without, in fact, looking at the cause of the problem.

10. mental healthcare and time

There are things that only time can heal. There is nothing like letting time pass. A few months ago, all I could think about was how I wanted to end my life and it was tormenting to think about living for even one more day. Waiting for time to pass was difficult, but I was rewarded. Time has a way of overcoming some things if you allow yourself to create new memories, new connections and new laughs. If you are suffering a lot, wait a few more hours. Live one more day. Let time pass and life bring you better things.

See you guys again on my next challenge (maybe a productivity one?). Thanks to everyone who liked and reblogged my previous posts! 💕

[systlin]

People that are absolutely convinced anyone can be vegan/vegetarian baffle me. I eat meat fairly regularly and I am already courting a B12 deficiency (for anyone who doesn't know the easiest source of B12 that the human body likes to absorb is red meat, you can get it from other sources primarily leafy greens I believe but your not getting as much because it's not as easy for your body to absorb) my levels aren't low enough to be considered clinically deficient but it's a near thing so my doctor has told me to take 2 B12 vitamins every day. I'm hoping this fixes my levels because if it doesn't that's a sign of a much more serious problem where my digestive system is biologically struggling to absorb B12

Gods, I feel you

When I got my Chron's diagnosis, the gastroenterologist and I talked about diet. High fiber is my enemy. I'm mostly OK now thanks to maintenance medication, but even now I can't have more than a single handful of nuts or popcorn without Suffering after. Raw vegetables are iffy; I can eat a couple of radishes or carrot sticks, but celery sets it off and raw broccoli or cauliflower is misery. I can have ONE small bowl of salad a day, which sucks because I LOVE salad. I have to be careful to limit servings of raw fruit, which also sucks because I adore cherries and pears and peaches.

Cooked vegetables are mostly fine, though I still have to keep the broccoli and brussels sprouts servings small. Cooked fruit is fine too. Beans are iffy. I can have some, but not a lot, which sucks because I love beans. Tofu is OK, but during my flare it gave me worse gas.

During a flare, my safe foods were cheese, meat, eggs, milk, fruit juice, vegetable juice, white bread, and cream of wheat. It was a fucking nightmare to try and get all the nutrients into me that I need. You will note that most of these are in fact animal products. I was under literal medical orders to keep the hell away from non-juiced fruits and vegetables.

Of course, a bunch of people came out of the woodwork to tell me that I could heal myself by cutting out all dairy and wheat and going vegan/raw vegan. People still do this regularly. I've deleted ten out of my inbox since yesterday.

If I tried to go vegan, it would be very, very rough on my traitor-ass large intestine and would probably send me into a flare. If I tried to go RAW vegan, it would probably mean surgery and might kill me.

[tomorrowusa]

I think that Biden should have accepted the drug test challenge – but with a major twist.

BOTH candidates should have their blood fully analyzed with the results made public.

I'd love to know what's flowing through Trump's bloodstream. Those 12 Diet Cokes® he drinks every day probably send his caffeine levels into the stratosphere. And given that Trump's White House Dr. Ronny Johnson Jackson freely distributed prescription drugs as if they were candy, it would be unusual if Trump himself had not been a recipient.

Trump’s White House Was ‘Awash in Speed’ — and Xanax

Trump bragged about his high testosterone level in an interview with Dr. Oz before he was elected. It would be enlightening to compare that 2016 level to 2024. If it's higher now, that's a sign that he's getting injections.

A Trump blood sample might also contain some interesting surprises. Trump's eating habits are even worse than those of the pre-vegan days of Bill Clinton. And Trump's father Fred had dementia for six years before he died.

Medical analysis may offer an explanation for Trump's wacky and disturbed rantings.

[betterbemeta]

I have said it before and i don't care how many youtubers advertise hello fresh or hungryroot to make a living

meal subscription services are not worth it.

Not a single one of them is actually cheaper in the long term than planning and buying your own groceries.

many of them have initial discounts to sell you the service and then hope you are just too busy or too tired to unsubscribe. almost ALL people who sign up for a meal plan will unsubscribe within the first year because they were only there to access those early discounts BECAUSE THEY NEEDED CHEAPER FOOD IMMEDIATELY.

Your normal grocery store probably does have a few dark patterns but not nearly as many as even the 'nicest' meal subscription service.

There are articles out there like "I did the math and the groceries and meal services are the same price mostly!" but if you pay attention, there are massive holes in their thinking:

the meals or plans that track closest to grocery store prices are ones that adhere to special diets. Eating vegan, keto, etc. can be more pricey to shop for. This is a known part of the strategy for meal kits and delivery services-- they can't compete with the price of typical groceries, but just like some people will shop at an expensive Health Food store, others will be willing to pay a premium for luxury or diet-specific products. And chances are if you're a regular person keeping a special diet with a limited amount of disposable income you probably have already made compromises for your budget and don't need a for-profit service to pry away that money you're trying to save.

These articles frame, 'you don't have to buy oil, seasonings, vinegar, or staple ingredients' as a cost saving or even food waste saving measure... but that's also true if you just eat regular TV dinners from the grocery store freezer aisle, many of which offer the same or better prices per serving. But really, is this not just a grocery shopping version of 'Vimes 'Boots' theory of socioeconomic unfairness'? Exploitation of those who can't invest in the cost of things upfront results in poor people spending more money for worse outcomes?

If I can't make a restaurant's exact same fish sandwich for the same price, I can just make a chicken sandwich or a grilled portobello. Or buy a box of frozen dumplings. Saving money on Grilled Trout Over Wild Rice shipped to my door makes no sense when I simply wouldn't choose to cook something like that without a special reason.

if these meal kits and delivery plan services really WERE cheaper than groceries, grocery stores would be losing money to them and they're mostly losing money to people buying less food in general.

[anonymous-dentist]

Part Five of the Catboy in the Village AU

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four

-

Before Cellbit can start any kind of investigation, he passes out from hunger. (Four days without eating will do that, he supposes...)

It's sort of just... quick. He's sitting up in bed so Roier can braid his hair, and then his head and eyes are all fuzzy, and then he's in a different bed with no Roier and with an absolutely killer migraine.

He groans and rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket over his head, because he knows that there's somebody watching him. He can feel their (her) eyes on him, and they're making him feel even more sick than he already feels.

"You're an idiot," the queen declares.

Cellbit just hisses at her. She doesn't deserve his words.

He can practically hear her eye roll. Wood creaks from next to his bed, footsteps clicking against the cold stone floor, and then a light 'creeeeak' as a cabinet is opened on the far side of the room. Grumbling from the queen- insults, mostly. Clinks and clatters as she searches for something.

Cellbit's stomach twists and groans from hunger. Gods, what he'd give to be in his kitchen right now with Roier making dinner less than an arm's length away from him. Smoke in Cellbit's lungs, flavor already burning his tongue, fresh bread from the bakery across the street in front of him as an appetizer.

"There's soup on the table next to you," the queen says.

But it isn't Roier's soup, is the thing. It's probably poisoned. Or, worse, it's gross. Not enough meat, probably. Possibly even vegan, eugh.

How would the queen react if Cellbit told her that he only eats dishes with human flesh cooked into them? Would that be enough for her to send him home?

...Probably not, considering she seemed more upset about him being bad at escaping prison than him actually being in prison in the first place. That opens a whole bag of worms in itself, because how in the world does the queen know about Alcatraz when Cellbit's own in-laws don't? How long has she been stalking him for?

"If you need something lighter, I can have the kitchens send up some bread or crackers," the queen continues.

"I'm not hungry," Cellbit grumbles.

He's gone for longer than four days without food. During the war, it wasn't until Bad picked him up and taught him what his claws and fangs were good for that Cellbit started having dinner more than once a week. When he was put in solitary confinement in prison, he wasn't given food at all, and he was in that cell for at least five days at a time.

He's gone for longer than four days, so it has to be something in the castle that has made Cellbit so weak. Maybe it's something in the air, some kind of magic the queen is employing to try and break him down. The bed sheets might be laced with sickness runes. The guards constantly following Cellbit and Roier around might be warlocks in league with whatever demon is haunting the castle.

"Right," the queen sarcastically says. "You're not hungry. You just passed out after not eating for four days for no reason."

Cellbit bristles so literally that his ears tent the blanket above his head. He grits his teeth together and, not for the first time, he wishes that he still had his claws.

"Exactly," he grits out. He flexes his fingers, pretending the air he's scratching is the queen's stupid (identical) face. "So. Leave."

"I'm good, actually," the queen lightly responds. She sounds beyond pissed off, but she also sounds as calm as can be expected of royalty. Ugh. "I'm going to order some bread for you in just a moment."

Cellbit's ear twitches. "No."

"You're an alchemist, yes? You know what happens when you take a potion on an empty stomach. This might be the healer's quarters, but I will not have you throwing up all over her floor."

Cellbit pulls a bit of his blanket over and away from one of his eyes so he can glare at the queen properly.

"I'm not going to throw up," he scoffs. Who does she think he is?

Now that he can see the queen, he's even more annoyed. More than that, though, he's confused because... why? Why is she here? What kind of warden pays this much attention to their prisoner?

She's rooting through a large wooden cupboard filled with things Cellbit recognizes from his own supplies back home: healing potions, powdered unicorn's horn, phoenix feather, faerie dust.

"When you passed out, you hit your head pretty hard on one of your bedposts," the queen explains, ignoring him entirely. "Your husband has requested that you be given something to help with your pain, and you know that you can't take that without something in your stomach. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn," Cellbit huffs. "And I'm not in pain. So."

He isn't lying; he feels just fine. The only thing hurting is his stomach, and that's normal with starvation. He's more than used to the feeling by now.

"So you're going to take one dose of this potion to make your husband happy."

Oh, and now she's blackmailing him with Roier's emotions. Great.

Unfortunately for the queen, Cellbit knows his husband well enough to know that, if Roier wanted him to take a potion, he would be in the room force-feeding it to him himself. He wouldn't have Cellbit's current number one worst enemy try and do it, he isn't that cruel.

...Now that Cellbit thinks of it, where is Roier?

A bolt of panic grips Cellbit around his heart and he sits up in a flash, blanket flying off of him as his entire body tenses. His ears stick up on end, straining for any sign of Roier. Nothing.

"Where is he?" Cellbit demands.

He looks around the room and sees absolutely nothing that he can use as a weapon. Great. It's fine. It's fine! He can just-

Cellbit's vision swims, and he feels himself tipping to the side and off of the bed. The queen shouts, but he can't hear whatever she says over the sound of nothingness as he loses consciousness for the second time that day.

It takes much less time for him to wake up this time. He's up and trying to get to his feet within seconds of hitting the floor, his ears flat against his head and his eyes wide with panic as he fully decides that the queen may have, in fact, killed Roier. She had Cellbit drugged and she had Roier killed and now she's going to keep Cellbit in a much worse cell and she's going to torture him until he agrees that he's her brother and-

He's shocked back to reality as a blanket is dropped over his head from above. What?

"Roier is fine," the queen gently says. She's above him now, too- on the bed, probably, why? Is she trying to smother him? "He's the one who brought you here. He and the healer went to get some ice from the kitchens. She was going to go by herself, but he wanted to make sure she wouldn't try and poison you."

What a hero. Of course Roier would worry about the ice being poisoned, he and Cellbit both know a hundred ways to poison someone. It's hard not to know how to poison people in the potion business.

...But she's lying. The queen is lying. She hasn't told Cellbit the truth once since she first barged into his store.

...But the blanket over Cellbit's head is really heavy. Was it this heavy before? No, right?

Cellbit kneads his fingers into the knees of his trousers. He twists his wedding ring around his finger. His nose twitches. His lungs hurt.

"Still works," the queen mutters. What does that mean?

A few short, yet excruciatingly-long, moments of blanket and panic later, the door to the room slams open, and a pair of beautifully-familiar boots thud towards Cellbit. A second later, the blanket is ripped off of his head, and there's Roier holding a bowl of ice and looking so handsomely concerned.

"Gatinho..." he breathes.

And then he scowls and plops onto the ground in front of Cellbit, cross-legged. He puts the bowl down on his lap, leans forward, and grabs Cellbit by the face with both hands and squishes his cheeks together.

"I fucking told you to eat!" he shouts, only halfway angry. He squishes Cellbit's cheeks harder. "And now you are on the floor. Why are you on the floor, eh?"

"He fell," the queen responds. She's still on the bed, cross-legged herself, with her chin resting against her fist. "He wanted to search for you."

Roier 'awww's once before gently shaking Cellbit's head back and forth.

"What have I told you?" he scolds. "I'll always come back for you. Even when I die, I'll just haunt you as a sexy ghost. I'm not letting any stupid queen get rid of me?"

"Hey!" the queen protests.

Cellbit smiles, though, and he reaches up to place his hands over Roier's.

"Desculpe, guapito," he says.

Roier smiles back, his anger slowly fading from his face.

"Your forehead is all purple," he tells Cellbit. "Come here..."

He takes the blanket off of the floor and wraps it around a handful of ice cubes. It's a lumpy cold mess, but it's sweet, so Cellbit doesn't complain too much as Roier softly presses the makeshift ice pack against Cellbit's forehead.

Cellbit leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. He bites back a happy little purr. (Not in front of the queen...!)

Someone else walks into the room, but Cellbit couldn't care less about them. They have to be the healer, but there's nothing wrong with him. Nothing he can't fix himself with the right ingredients, anyway.

He cracks an eye open and glares up at the queen, who looks... thoughtful. Uh-oh.

"I'm not taking the potion," he tells her. "I don't drink anything I don't make myself."

The queen shrugs. "That's fine, then. There's a cauldron on the other side of the room. Right, Niki?"

She looks over her shoulder, and Cellbit can just barely make out a head of pink hair. Must be 'Niki', then. The healer.

"That's right!" the healer agrees. "You can use what you want! It's all in here somewhere!"

Roier leans in close and whispers, "That's Niki. She talks a lot about empanadas."

Cellbit's stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and he groans.

"Please don't mention food right now," he sighs, voice low.

"Mmm, or I can, and you'll eat something and we can go back to our room," Roier hums. He tenderly strokes Cellbit's cheek. "I'm in the mood for empanadas right now, actually. Ah, or mixiotes... or gorditas..."

Cellbit slumps forward against Roier's shoulder, bringing the ice with him.

"Guapito, please..." he whines.

"If you're hungry, I can have any of that made for you," the queen offers.

A growl bubbles up from Cellbit's throat, but Roier covers it up with a loud, "Ah! But how do we know you won't put poison in it, hmm?"

"Because I wouldn't poison my brother or my brother-in-law? That would be ridiculous!"

"Mhmm. But how can we be sure?"

"Let Roier cook for the both of us," Cellbit says. "That way, we know for sure that it'll be safe."

A beat. And then:

"Are you being serious right now?" the queen demands. "That was why you wouldn't eat? Because your husband wasn't cooking it for you?"

Cellbit turns his head to glare up at her. "You would starve yourself, too, if you had to go from his cooking to someone else's. His food is perfect. He could be a professional, you know."

The queen looks absolutely shocked. Positively bewildered. Confused beyond all belief. Angry, too. Annoyed.

"You are. Ridiculous," she stammers out. "But... fine. Yes! You should have just asked from the beginning! Oh my gods! You should have asked!"

She continues ranting about how silly Cellbit is for not trusting her despite them literally being family, which is absolutely ridiculous because, A, they aren't family, and, B, she literally knocked him out and kidnapped him and his husband and is holding them both captive.

But Cellbit doesn't listen. Instead, he thinks. Once he's back on his feet, he can actually start investigating. And then? He and Roier can go.

His stomach grumbles again; Roier giggles and pokes at Cellbit's belly and starts listing out potential dinner options in order of Cellbit's favorites to his least favorites.

...But first, dinner.

Finally.

[ooglywooglies]

as well i want to be an absolute bitch about this stuff because more people honestly need to be, but its hard to explain my position very well without coming off as EITHER like a peta vegan or a cartoon poacher bc its genuinely a topic that requires a lot of nuance and the general public do not have the mental space for animals beyond the absolute basics and people really WANT this stuff to be simple but it cant be

been in youtube hell for the past few days (im still sick and bedridden) and im literally always in this mode but i need people who fuck around with wild animals to get killed more often, the animals are far too nice to these people

like obviously its important for the general public to be educated on basic decency and respect. and not all animals can defend themselves, plus even the ones that can and do are the ones that suffer the most for it because when you become a threat to humans you have to get put down. but i wish we just didnt bother with that. there arent humans on this earth who disrespect large dangerous animals out of anything other than hubris, people ARE taught that these animals are unpredictable and dangerous and they still go out of their way to fuck with them. i wish we didnt protect them, i wish we just let them get what they deserve.

in any case still best for everyone to remember that wild animals being interacted with by humans on social media can pretty easily always be assumed to be exploitation, even in a zoo/rescue setting people being too close with the animals is a red flag, any animal thats not a typical domestic pet in someones house is a red flag and do not try to touch or feed wild animals even if you think you can beat them in a fight if it comes to it. dont feed fucking squirrels or possums or whatever animals dont have a concept of charity or one time friendliness, you cannot befriend wild animals. appreciate them from afar, do not yearn for exotic pets and do not support people who keep exotic pets. no matter how much that person tells you their animal is well loved/cared for/happy they are not, they are lying.

its better for everyones wellbeing when animals are afraid of us and were afraid of them.

[fushigurokogane]

~ JJK chats ~ (1)

Yuji: Yo, Gojo, why do you always wear those sunglasses? Are you trying to hide your face or your identity? Gojo: Face... identity... It’s all part of the mystery, Yuji. You wouldn’t get it. 😎 Nobara: No, it’s because he’s hiding the fact that he’s been wearing the same pair of sunglasses for 10 years and they definitely smell like Doritos. Yuji: No way, I bet they smell like vanilla body spray. Gojo: I don't need to explain myself to you guys. And for the record, my sunglasses are timeless. Megumi: I just want to know how you manage to look so ridiculous and still somehow get away with it. Gojo: You can’t comprehend this level of cool. Yuji: Wait, Gojo... do you have like, a backup pair? Or do you just keep that same dirty one for life? Gojo: Obviously, I have multiples. I have them in every room of my house, my car, and even in the bathroom. Nobara: Imagine Gojo in the bathroom, just wearing his sunglasses while brushing his teeth. That’s the energy I needed in my life. Yuji: 100% he’s the type to look in the mirror and say, “Yeah, I’m still hot.” 💁‍♂️ Gojo: Well, if the sunglasses fit... Megumi: You’ve all completely lost it. Nobara: Alright, alright. Anyone know where the last box of cookies went? I’m 99% sure Yuji’s the culprit. Yuji: WHAT? I didn’t touch them! Nobara: You’re literally the only one who would eat an entire box of cookies and then pretend nothing happened. Yuji: I... I might have eaten a couple. But it’s not my fault they were just...staring at me, you know? Gojo: Here we go again. The “cookies called to me” excuse. 🙄 Nobara: I think we need a snack intervention for Yuji. “Hi, I’m Yuji, and I have a problem with cookies.” Yuji:Maybe I do have a problem. But they were so good, I couldn’t stop myself. 😫 Megumi: This is why we can’t have nice things. Gojo: Honestly, I’m more concerned about the fact that no one saved any for me. Yuji: Wait, you wanted some too?! Gojo: Of course I wanted some! You think I’m just here for the vibes? Nobara: No, I thought you were here to give life advice no one asked for, and to teach us all how to look like you. Gojo: Nailed it. Yuji: I swear, Gojo’s the only one who eats snacks, throws them in the air, and then just disappears. It’s like a magic trick. Gojo: It’s a talent. You’re welcome. Megumi: You all are unbelievable. I can’t even handle this. Nobara: Wait, does anyone else think Megumi secretly has a candy stash that he hides from everyone? Yuji: Oh he definitely has a secret stash! He’s probably eating chocolate in the corner right now, like some mysterious snack ghost. Gojo: You have chocolate, don’t you, Megumi? Megumi: No, I don’t. Nobara: There’s no way. He’s probably got dark chocolate and then some random, deeply mysterious snack. Maybe like... dried seaweed and sadness. Gojo: WAIT. What if... he only eats vegan snacks? Yuji:Oh, no. That’s worse than tofu. Megumi: I swear to god, if you don’t stop, I’ll actually leave the chat. Nobara: You cant leave. This chat is your destiny. Gojo:Yeah, you’re stuck with us, Megumi. Whether you like it or not. Yuji: But if you have a secret stash, Megumi, just know I won’t judge. I’ll even trade you a pack of gummies. Megumi: I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see any of this. Gojo: Look, we’re a family. And in this family, we share everything. Except snacks.

OMGGG these are SOOO fun to makeee!! I would loveee to do more of these. If you guys have any suggestions of what type of convo i could do next i would be SO HAPPPYY!! I hope you enjoyed reading~ BAI BAI MY LOVESSS~!!

love, ✭ Nika ✭

[stardropsaloongossiptrain]

Bachelor/ettes and Cooking

Gonna rank how I think the marriage candidates would do in the kitchen

----

Bachelors:

Elliott -- it takes a while, but once the man has a real kitchen at his disposal and some encouragement to try, I think he would really enjoy cooking and could be very good at it! I HC him as growing up in a wealthy home where he probably wasn't allowed to cook for himself, and then the cabin has nothing... but he remembers dishes he really enjoyed. I like to think he starts cooking just trying to help out once he moves to the farm, and there is DEF a learning curve... but there's a master chef hiding in there. I can feel it.

Alex -- you do not grow up with Grannie Evelyn and not learn how to cook. Impossible. Now, he's not a fancy chef by any means, but he can make a meal without issue. If you get this man a grill, he will 1000% become Grill Master, Kiss the Cook apron wearing Grill Dad. Also, though he rarely does it, he can bake up a storm. Generally only bakes for birthdays.

Harvey -- He can cook, but only cooks healthy meals. He will need to be taught that it's okay to season your food. Brown rice, steamed veggies, and plain tofu/ chicken breasts type guy. Otherwise, it's pre-packaged frozen food. Maybe he can get better w/ encouragement but he's always going to be checking portions and making sure you eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and watch your sodium intake. The most likely bachelor to be vegetarian/ be willing to go vegetarian. Gets nauseated if he's preparing meat.

Shane -- Mid-tier like Harvey, but even though he's had kitchen access he rarely feels like cooking. He knows what seasoning is-- his usual cooking style is the exact opposite of Harvey, mostly family recipes. All flavor, calorie count who?? Loves making food covered in cheese, sauce, or gravy. His chili would win awards, but he only makes it once a year.

Sam -- He could keep himself alive if the box has directions. Anything more complicated than boxed mac and cheese, though, and he gets a little lost. Can help YOU in the kitchen very well, but to be honest he would rather be doing something more exciting.

Sebastian -- The only one who is a worse cook than him is Abigail. He is NOT allowed in the kitchen even to watch. Could burn iced tea.

---

Bachelorettes

Emily -- Oldest sister + working at the Saloon added together means she's definitely going to be a decent cook, but she genuinely enjoys cooking. She loves to experiment with different cultural dishes. She only cooks vegetarian or vegan dishes.

Penny -- She's pretty self sufficient. I don't think she knows too many recipes, but she enjoys experimenting if she moves to the farmhouse. She's very adapt at stretching a budget, and I think she would enjoy making jams/ pickles. Not the big amount the farmer does, but small batches in special flavors.

Leah -- She's a simple cook. She prefers raw dishes, or things like buddha bowls. A lot of texture and flavor. Loves using herbs and edibles from foraging locally. Leans vegetarian but doesn't mind fish from time to time.

Maru -- Maru is proficient at cooking, but I think takes after her dad too much and is very nutrient focused vs what actually makes a good meal. Occasionally makes questionable decisions in the name of efficiency. Could go from making some sort of casserole if busy w/ a project to Extremely Experimental if she has the time. No in between.

Haley -- I considered putting her higher but no. She has rarely if ever had to cook for herself before, so if she's at the farmhouse she will be surprised if you expect her to do anything in the kitchen. Eventually I think she could be fine. It's not hard. She just hates doing dishes. Enjoys baking somewhat, especially w/ Alex.

Abigail -- She eats rocks as a snack and thinks if you just crank the oven to 600 for fifteen minutes it's better than 350 for an hour. Her stomach is alien to this world. Can and will eat anything without issue.

[collecting-stories]

Sweet Nothing - Carmen Berzatto

Request: I love Taylor inspired fics!! And I adore your writing style!! Maybe The Last Time or Sweet nothings for Carmy X reader?

Summary: No plot really, just Carmy and reader hanging out.

A/N: This is really more of a drabble style without much depth outside of just fluff. I tried to make it longer there's just not much of a plot to work with to do that I feel like. Also I made a delicious vegan clam chowder the other night for dinner, on a side note.

TS Anthology Series | The Bear Masterlist

...you're in the kitchen humming...

The worst part of dating a chef was the one thing that everyone always assumed would be the best part. He could cook, naturally, and Carmy could cook better than a whole lot of other really talented chefs but that didn't mean he cooked at home. Running a restaurant meant being at work more than he was home and usually, by the time he got back at night, neither of you were particularly interested in cooking anything that required greater skill than boiling water. Sometimes even that was too much. Your family, and your friends too, always commented on how lucky you were to have a 'personal chef' as if Carmy was just in the kitchen 24/7, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted to eat. You always laughed and agreed but what you wanted to say was that sometimes he didn't even want to look at a pan or a knife when he was home. 

This week, especially, felt like hell. You'd seen him for thirty minutes two days ago when you stopped in for lunch but otherwise you were what your grandmother described as 'two ships passing in the night'. You didn't think you could really count passing out next to his already asleep body on the queen mattress you kept meaning to replace an actual relationship. It wasn't always so bad, sometimes it was better, most of the time it felt worse. The Bear was getting ready to launch and Carmy's attention was hyperfocused on not failing before he started and you were busy with your own work load and neither of you had ever been willing to cave on work, even if it meant actually spending time with each other. Which was maybe why your relationship worked...or maybe it was some sort of 'once in a blue moon' that your relationship worked because at this point you were shocked that neither of you had called it off. Of course, that would require seeing each other...probably. 

"You know my first thought was that someone broke into our apartment and was cooking dinner," you announced, stopping in the kitchen entryway. Carmy turned to look over his shoulder at you, blue eyes a little glazed over (either from lack of sleep or that happy sort of numbness that came from being home and not having to see anyone, Richie, for the rest of the day). 

"Was this person like, a robber...like a robber just cooking you dinner?" He asked, a rare smile appearing. God, he couldn't remember the last time he smiled this week. Or last week. 

"They weren't making me dinner, just in general, making dinner. They broke in, got hungry, made a sandwich or something, and then...like they'd steal my laptop or something." You replied, pulling your sweater over your head before crossing the small space the apartment provided to kiss your boyfriend, "granted I'm glad it's you and not a robber."

"You said you were home early today," he replied, turning back to the food he was cooking as you walked into the bedroom to change. 

"I know, but that was like, one in the morning and you literally gave me a thumbs up without even lifting your hand off the bed in response so...wasn't exactly counting on you coming home," you explained, changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt, anything to get out of the clothes you'd been wearing all day, "besides I didn't mean it in a like, you have to come home because I'm home, just like a 'hey I'm actually going to be home today' kind a thing." 

"Richie's training this week and everything else is pretty much getting there."

"Oh well, pretty much getting there? Call Cicero, you can open tomorrow," you teased, "since you're not a robber and you are making me dinner, what are you making?"

"Clam chowder," he said, sounding almost like he didn't believe it himself. He wasn't exactly a big fan of soups, mostly because he found them boring and limited, but you loved them. Especially when cold weather hit and then all you wanted was some soup and grilled cheese and extra bread. When he'd made fun of you for your tastes once you had shrugged and told him you couldn't help it if your tastes were basic ("I didn't go to the CIA or NOMA or whatever. I like what I like").

"Clam chowder? Are you shitting me?" You asked, peering over his shoulder into the pot he had on the stove.

"I am not, in fact, shitting you." He replied. 

"Insane," you hooked your arms around his stomach and leaned against his back, not at all concerned about the fact that he was still technically cooking, "you're like the best boyfriend ever, have I ever told you that?"

"You tell me that every time I cook for you which seems like maybe you're only using me..." He joked. You kissed the back of his neck and then his cheek when he turned his head to the side, forcing another smile from him. 

It was hard to comprehend sometimes, to the point that Carmy literally had to remind himself, that the home the two of you had created (though hectic and sometimes not occupied) was genuinely the most calming place he'd ever been. Growing up with his mom and dad, and even Mikey and Sugar, had been like living on a landmine, waiting for it to explode on him if he made a wrong move. It never felt like that here, even when the outside world started to feel like that. 

"Do you need help?" You asked, letting him go and moving to the bar cart you had in the living room, in search of a good wine. 

"Nah, I'm almost done," he replied, "did I tell you about the gas line?"

You held a glass out to him, taking a long sip of your own, "no, what happened with the gas line?" 

Carmy started to retell the story, moving around the kitchen easily while you took a seat and listened to him, allowing him to capture your entire attention. The busy schedules and the barely seeing each other and the stress felt like it would crush you sometimes but it was entirely worth it to be able to come home early, at least every once in a while, and just sit there, listening to Carmy. 

[jeannefostergoriot]

I was imagining myself pitching KOTLC to a Miraculous fan and I started by going “well it’s worse, but not that worse, is it?”

And then I realized.

We have:

One parent downright evil with her son, toying with it and menacing regularly to kill him.

One parent being the literal walking definition of neglect.

Two parents living by the phrase “Status before anything”. Which resulted in their kids being banned from the Lost Cities at like… 11?!!!

One parent who has no idea what a child is. He’s not bad nor evil but darn, sending your SIX-YEAR-OLD SON in mission in another culture you know very few about?!!!!!!!

One terrorists organization trying to blow the most things up and traumatizing the MC so bad in the FIRST book she can’t even take a décoction anymore cause she’s been drugged that hard.

Two guys who basically lost their mind and literally commit arson 24/7.

One secret organization that doesn’t want to blow things up… so created a human who would probably scream all the problems. Well an elf, but you get me.

One government that can’t do anything for their lives.

Literal dinosaurs trying to go vegan in the MC’s front yard.

[the-french-belphegor]

Every room in Scanlan’s mansion existed for a reason, as a conscious choice. He often changed the setup, and sometimes forgot to make a room, but a random chamber just popping up into existence for no reason was unheard of. (A few decades after Vecna, Kaylie comes across a room that doesn’t make sense in her father’s magical mansion.)

(Shout-out to @mythtaker, whose post last March about Scanlan probably keeping Vax's room in his Magnificent Mansion nudged my brain until I could finally do something with it 💜)

Still Life

Scanlan had changed addresses again since last time.

Kaylie let herself into the house after disarming the few traps he had told her about in his last letter. Just like he’d said, they were nothing fancy: just small precautions to avoid disgruntled former customers (or worse, the local competition) barging in unannounced.

The new house was small, but looked cosy, with high windows and whitewashed walls painted a light blue. The Marquesian sun flooded the coloured cement tiles of the study with a golden late afternoon sunlight. Her father, sitting with his feet on his desk and browsing through papers, didn’t appear to notice either the beautiful light or his unexpected visitor.

Kaylie shrugged off her backpack and let it drop to the floor. The thump made Scanlan look up; the next second, he hopped down from his chair and ran to her, smiling from ear to ear.

“Kaylie Shorthalt, apple of my eye, light of my days, vegan cream in my coffee –”

“Hey, Dad.” Tiredness kept Kaylie’s voice somewhat short, but the first thing she did after carefully putting down her violin case was give him a hug he happily returned. It had been a while since they’d seen each other. “How’s tricks?”

Even after all those years, the nugget of warmth curling in her chest when she met her father’s grin still caught her off-guard. She’d missed him, she could acknowledge that at least, but just how much she had still surprised her every time it hit her.

“Tricks are going swimmingly, thank you for asking. Did you get Juni’s letter?”

“I did, yeah, just before I left.”

“Oh, good. Well, it means Wax lost the bet, but she was worried.”

“Wait,” Kaylie asked with the start of a grin she couldn’t quite hold back, “which bet?”

Juniper and Wilhand’ildan Shorthalt, even after leaving home for places of higher learning, still made a point of staying in almost constant contact with each other, their big sister, their Grog, and their parents, by means of letters, second-hand messages, or Sending Stones. Their correspondence included a lot of teasing, bets, and dares, some of which bafflingly silly sometimes. It had dumbfounded both Kaylie and Scanlan somewhat until Pike and Grog had assured them that it wasn’t that unusual between siblings.

Scanlan waved a hand, drawing the suspense, of course.

“You know the kids. I think this time a… goat was involved? I’ll tell you all about it at dinner. In the meantime, shall I fire up the mansion? For old time’s sake?”

“‘Old times’, yeah. Sure.” Kaylie rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed. It had barely been six months since the last time they’d treated themselves to a nice stay in the Magnificent Mansion. Okay, it felt longer, but still. “I could do with a day at the spa anyway after all this heat.”

“Then it’s settled. Give me a minute.”

Scanlan rummaged in his pocket for the components, closed his eyes, and started to hum a tune Kaylie recognised as one she’d been working on the last time they’d seen each other. As always, the air around him went shimmery and warm, citrus and coriander with a dash of purple, and the door winked into existence.

Gnome-sized, of course. And flamboyant and magnificent and ridiculous in an endearing way, just like him.

He opened it for her with a bow and a flourish.

“Ladies first.”

“Show-off,” snorted Kaylie, and walked in with her violin case, trusting Scanlan to bring her bag inside. Which he did, after a double take.

It was always easy to tell, from the look of the mansion, if Scanlan had spent time in Tal’Dorei recently. The layout was different, the ceiling a little lower, the hues a little softer. Some of Wax’s drawings he’d made while inside the mansion hung on the walls in frames; there were touches here and there in the decorations of Pike’s blues and Juni’s golds amongst the pinks and purples. In the foyer, a sheet of paper covered in awkward letters bigger than Kaylie’s whole hand held pride of place on a sideboard along with a plate of cookies. She immediately pilfered a couple on her way inside.

“Where’d you put my room this time?” she asked, rolling her head on her neck. Gods, it had been a long day. Make that a long week. Or a long fucking month, to be honest.

“Ground floor, west wing, couple of doors to the hot springs. I’ll make the servants get started on dinner. Give me a yell if you need anything?”

“Sure thing, thanks.”

Kaylie recognised her bedroom immediately: the door was open, welcoming her in. Scanlan had styled it the way she liked, cool and cosy but not stifling, light on the frills, with plenty of space to put her things away and all the tools she needed to take care of her violin.

The bed looked way too comfy. It was tempting to just faceplant in it and crash. But then, she reasoned, it would still be there after a long soak and a nice dinner.

She threw her bag over her shoulder, padded barefoot out of her room, and opened the second door to the left.

And paused, puzzled.

Every room in Scanlan’s mansion existed for a reason, as a conscious choice. He often changed the setup, and sometimes forgot to make a room, but a random chamber just popping up into existence for no reason was unheard of.

That… wasn’t the hot springs. It was a bedroom, by the look of it, but a bedroom that didn’t make sense.

“Hey, Scanlan?” Kaylie called out, frowning. “What’s this room for?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and stepped in slowly, taking in the dark furniture, the elegant carpet, the plants in large pots scattered across the room. The circular bed was unmade, like its owner had just stepped out. She ran her palm over the quilt, a light, fuzzy fabric meant to look like it was made from black feathers. Or maybe stylised leaves.

Something tugged at her memory.

“What room, Kay—”

The footsteps behind her came to such an abrupt stop Kaylie thought Scanlan had Dimension Doored away elsewhere. But when she looked over her shoulder, there he was, framed in the doorway like a painting and about as motionless.

He looked nothing less than stricken.

And that… was all the explanation she needed.

After the dust settled, after that last big fight, as she was recuperating in Whitestone in a bed too big for her –

(from her wounds, from dying, from coming back to life in her father’s arms with his tears in her hair and her blood on his chest)

– he had come back, bone-tired and too quiet, the smell of booze on him stronger than some of her best and worst benders, but alive. They had talked a bit about what she wanted to do, now that the world wasn’t ending any more. She had pulled him into a hug, the only way she’d found to say everything she’d wanted to say without having words pulled out of her mouth like teeth.

It was only when she had come back from a much-needed nightly stroll and found him passed out at the foot of his own bed that she had realised he hadn’t said a single word about how the fight had gone down except We won.

What they had lost – who – had come up later.

Kaylie didn’t have many clear memories of Vax’ildan. The other members of Vox Machina she’d mostly learned to know after they disbanded. With the exception of her father – and a memorable conversation with Vex’ahlia, still vivid despite the fog of alcohol (But there’s a chance we can bring him back, if you’re willing to help) – the shape they had in her mind was a product of time in a new world, one that no longer involved escaping from dragons or being kidnapped and brainwashed by an asshole god. Vax would forever belong to that former world. The only remnants she had of him were a vague silhouette in dark clothing, a sharp grin, a surprisingly soft voice.

And the taste of blood in her mouth.

The last and strongest memory Kaylie had of Vax was his scrunched up face, contorted by guilt with tear tracks on his cheeks, open hand thrust forwards as Gilmore whisked her and Cassandra de Rolo away to safety. To this day she still viciously hoped some of that guilt was for her, too.

After all, she was the one he’d killed.

And then he had died (or perhaps before and it just took a while to really take, she had never been clear on the timing), and in the process had somehow gained the power to crack Scanlan’s heart right open.

So maybe Kaylie had ambivalent feelings about the guy.

But she was also very aware that saying fuck ‘im would not help at all in this situation.

“Oh, Dad.” She shook her head, but purposely kept her voice gentle, filing down some of her sharp edges for once. “Still, huh?”

Shock rippled on his face at the sound of her voice. It made him look a little less like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“…I meant a couple of doors on the right,” he said in a small voice.

He’d sounded worse before – hell, he’d looked worse before, she had once seen his lifeless body laid out on an altar after getting ripped apart by a dragon – but something still tugged at her heart at that.

“Yeah, well. The spa can wait. What’s up with that?” She stepped towards him, telegraphing her movements, like he was a horse who might bolt if spooked. “Why did you make that room? You know that’s… that’s not a good idea, right?”

“I didn’t make it make it,” Scanlan protested with a little more life. “I just… didn’t not make it.”

“Okay, but why now?”

Silence.

Kaylie stared at Scanlan.

“You mean you don’t make it on purpose? It just pops up every time?”

“No! …Yes. Kinda? Look, the mansion’s a complicated spell, okay? It’s not even proper bardic magic in the first place. I’ve been casting it for years and I’m still not a hundred percent sure how it works.”

His eyes stayed mostly on her, but every now and then they strayed to the left, to the coverings, the bed, the plants. However his body still seemed rooted to the spot, and Kaylie was suddenly struck by a flash of insight.

“Dad, did you – have you ever actually stepped foot in there? You know, since he died?”

Scanlan went very still.

(How the hell did he manage to fool anybody, Kaylie wondered as her heart sank in her chest. How good a liar did that make him, really, that she managed to see right through him every time?)

She shook her head again.

“You haven’t, have you. Decades of making this room without even thinking about it and you never… Godsdammit, Dad.”

“I can’t, Kaylie,” he said, barely audible. “It’s not… I wouldn’t…”

Scanlan Shorthalt at a loss for words was a unique phenomenon that could be two things: downright hilarious or powerfully awkward. A very rare third kind of outcome, the instances of which Kaylie could count on the fingers of one hand and a half, was snapping your heart clean in two. And for someone like her, who prided herself on always keeping that soft, vulnerable part of herself safe from all hurt… Well, it sucked. To put it mildly.

Kaylie sighed.

Then she took her father’s hand.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” she said gently, and pulled him into the room.

She didn’t have to tug very hard. Scanlan stumbled after her easily. The next moment he absent-mindedly straightened his vest and looked around at the room as though he was seeing it for the first time.

The room, not the contents. It was obvious, from the way his gaze lingered on this and that, how he snorted at the sight of an armchair pillow embroidered with two tiny figures inside a giant black dragon, or smiled at a painting that depicted a bunch of cows and a giant bird, of all things, that the objects that populated the space were familiar, or at least brought up memories.

Kaylie gave him a moment, then climbed onto the human-sized (or rather half-elf-sized) bed, letting her feet dangle over the edge. The movement must have caught Scanlan’s eye; he turned, and after a while shucked off his shoes and clambered up, too.

The silence between them lasted long enough that Kaylie started to wonder whether she should summon one of the mansion’s creepy ghost servants to get herself a drink. But she had cut down on daytime drinking a lot these past few decades, particularly since Juni’s birth. Putting the kibosh on Scanlan’s meat consumption had been a gag at first – plus chicken for breakfast, lunch, and dinner got old fast – but the excuse of eating healthy to live longer had had some truth behind it. Behind the sarcasm she’d actually wanted her father to stick around, and you kinda had to stay alive for that. It had taken her a few years after that to realise that getting too fucked up too often would make her less inclined to stay alive, too.

Scanlan had stuck by the vegan diet, and Kaylie had cut down her drinking rather dramatically.

But damn if her fingers didn’t still itch for a pint, sometimes.

“So,” she said, if only to hear something. Dammit. She had counted on Scanlan being the first to open his mouth – he usually was. “That’s a nice bedroom. This bed’s comfy.”

“I should hope so,” said Scanlan, his voice almost normal by now. Almost. “Nothing but quality in my Magnificent Mansion.”

“No mirror on the ceiling in this one?”

“Nah, not this time. But I think everybody had one at some point? Gods, it’s been ages. Anyway, I made up for it. Look in the… I think it’s in the bedside table on the left.”

Against her better judgement, Kaylie shuffled to the bedside table. Inside it was a book with a title in Marquesian which in Common translated to The Lotus and the Butterfly.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that the one with—?”

“—with beautiful traditional Marquesian illustrations going back two hundred years from the best artists in Yios, yes.”

“I was gonna say ‘the sex positions guidebook’, but sure, let’s go with that.” She shook her head. “I thought you couldn’t leave anything from the Material Plane in the mansion?”

“You can’t. I had the servants make it special from a copy I picked up once at a casino.”

“The one you got scammed in?” Kaylie asked with a grin, making Scanlan roll his eyes. She leafed through the book idly, gaze quickly flitting over text and pictures, neither really registering. “And you just. Left that in your friend’s bedside table. Like that’s not fucking weird at all.” Her head snapped back up as a thought hit her. “Wait, did you… Did you ever hook up with him, back in the day?”

In the two seconds it took for Scanlan to open his mouth, eyes wide, she decided she didn’t need to know the answer. Those two had been good friends and clearly loved each other a lot; whether sex had been involved or not was irrelevant.

She steered clear of sentiment, though, out of habit.

“Wait, don’t answer that. Sorry. Gross, shut up. Still, what the hell? Was it supposed to be some kind of prank?”

“Well, no, I… Okay, maybe just a little. Once I finally got that he and Keyleth were actually, like, A Thing, I put the book in there whenever I made the mansion. Mostly I figured they might need, uh… not exactly something to help them get it on, but just… ideas, you know? It took them long enough to realise they both wanted to boink, just thought I might aid a little in that department.”

Kaylie stared at her father, not knowing whether she might facepalm or laugh herself sick.

“Seriously.”

“Hey,” Scanlan pointed out, “it was them or Vex and Percy, and once they figured out their own shit they didn’t need any incentive to jump each other’s bones! Man, I’m still surprised they stopped at five kids and didn’t go for the full baker’s dozen.”

Once upon a time, this would’ve been a golden opportunity for her to say something scathing about accidental children. The Kaylie from three decades ago would have verbally eviscerated present-day Kaylie for letting that opportunity pass by. But then again, being her three decades ago had been fucking exhausting. Sure, she sometimes missed the viciousness she had let go of over the years, but she’d also lost some fears and gained a little peace of mind. Overall, not a bad bargain.

She settled for a snort and put the book back in the bedside table. Then she made herself comfortable on the bed, leaning back and kicking her feet a little.

Surprisingly, Scanlan didn’t add anything. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his arms and gazed vaguely ahead with an odd expression, for him.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hm?”

Godsdammit. Pike would be much better suited for this.

Kaylie resolutely kept her own gaze in front of her and didn’t look at him.

“You do realise it’s… okay if you don’t make this room? Maybe not next time, but like… the time after that. I don’t think he’ll mind, I mean… It’s not… It wouldn’t be betraying him is what I’m sayin’.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn his head towards her a little, but he remained uncharacteristically silent and still.

“It’s nice that you kept his stuff. No, I know, it’s not really his stuff, but you know what I mean – it’s, uh… it’s a thoughtful gesture. Wherever he is I’m sure he’d appreciate it. But…”

How did people do this? Say words that weren’t even spells and fixed things somehow? Her music could break and heal alike, but that last part felt closer to tying a tourniquet on a bleeding limb: a tiny thing that might keep you from dying just now, but a far cry from magic that knitted bones back together or breathed life back into corpses. She had sung away the hurt from Juni’s scraped knees or Wax’s scratched elbows a few times when her little siblings were kids. She might as well be trying to do the same now on a decades-old wound that somehow still found a way to bleed every now and then.

“But… But there’s better ways to remember him by. This is like… frozen in time. Like a museum, almost. Somehow I doubt that’s what he was about.”

“It’s not,” Scanlan muttered. Then he cleared his throat and added, without the crack in his voice this time, “I mean, yeah, he was… He was, uh.”

She pretended not to see him wipe his nose on his sleeve.

“He had… a lot going on, once he got into his thing with the Raven Queen. That messed him up for some time. But even with all that, even when he went full emo goth chicken with one foot in the grave talking about death all the frickin’ time, he was… he was alive.”

Pause; a small snort of a laugh. When he spoke again he was smiling, but his voice was less than steady again. “Never seen a dead guy so alive, when I think about it.”

Kaylie waited for him to continue. When it became obvious that nothing more was coming, she bit back a sigh, then shuffled closer.

And closer. Just close enough to lay her head on her father’s shoulder if she slumped a little.

(Ever since she’d first laid eyes on him she’d always been a little taller. That he’d never been there while she was still small enough to hold and carry was one of the things she still was angry at him about occasionally – and angry at herself for it. She was tough and strong and a grown-ass adult, godsdammit, not a bloody child.)

After a while, Scanlan laid his head against hers, giving her time to slip away if she wanted, like he usually did.

“Didn’t you want to go to the spa?” he asked quietly.

Kaylie gave a one-shoulder shrug, careful not to jostle their skulls against each other’s.

“I will. In a while.”

“I included the steam room again.”

“Good. It’s nice. Also pretty.”

“Well, you deserve the best.”

“Damn right I do,” she murmured.

Maybe he wasn’t the best father. But he certainly wasn’t the worst she’d thought he was for the first two thirds of her life. Sure, the space between their souls had its share of broken things, but in time they had built trust, and affection, and unspoken words that warmed rather than hurt.

She shifted, just enough that she could kiss his temple just above his ear – a little smaller than her own, one of the few physical traits he didn’t pass on to her – and give his hand a squeeze for good measure, lightning-quick.

Then she settled against him again before he could say anything.

The room was not haunted. In two dozen hours it would disappear, along with the rest of the house; one day it might cease to exist altogether. And maybe, between the two of them (beating hearts, warm bodies, lungs drawing breaths in tandem with one another), they could lay some old ghosts to rest.