#replace the bottle with eggs and its perfect

[genbabureki]

gozyu eagle

[dailyfoodlovers]

buying kewpie mayo sucks because its so much more expesnive than regular mayo but its also so much better and has like the perfect flavour profile to compliment basically anything you cook. so now your stuck replacing your daily mayo usage with an already much more expensive product and youre finding even more ways to use it your putting it on the fries your brought home,, and on your breakfast sandwhich in the morning, and you mix it into your tuna salad and you dip your grilled cheese in it because its starting to take the place of ketchup in your life too but its so good you cant help yourself you need t eat more of it. so you keep buying the kewpie and putting it in more stuff, your replacing the sour cream in your burrito with kewpie, the yogurt in your lentil curry with kewpie. you never liked mayo or ketchup on eggs but now you cant even have an egg sunny side up without a little drizzle of kewpie on top to make it taste right. its consumed, you completely, and you already have to go to the store tomorrow to buy another bottle. shameful

[ratsoh-writes]

Even more magic crops/food!

Berriis: pronounced “berries”, this is a magical fruit native to all the underground AUs. It grows on a thick thorny bush. The little fruits grow in tight clusters. They’re wrinkly and metallic resembling little gold nuggets. They’re incredibly sour and have a sort of apple-ish flavor. They’re often used in marinades for seafoods and other meats. The fruits can only be eaten fresh however as any attempts to freeze or dry them cause the berriis to crumble to a bitter gross dust

Chimcheeps: this tuber vegetable is long, incredibly so. The roots of the plant can grow up to 12 feet into the ground. The root itself is nothing special, tasting like a red potato. The plant when ready to harvest though produces a large feathery brown flower that chirps clicks and hoots at any creature that draws near. Chimcheeps are native to birdswap only for some reason

Moongold apricot: this is a new crop in ebott bred by a farmtale monster. The apricots were crossbred with gauzeberries to create a pale milky white fruit that glows under the moonlight. They’re delicious with a light airy flavor not unlike any other fruit. Many claim that if you could eat the moon, that’s what it would taste like.

Mayobay: this is a herb native to the sea AUs. The underwater herb is small growing low to the ground. It has milky white leaves and gives off a faint smell of eggs when on land. It’s got a buttery taste and makes a great milk replacement in baking and cooking!

Lily of the tides: another crop native to the sea AUs, this magical plant is a MASSIVE ocean lily pad. The lily pads themselves are quite wide and can grow to be the size of cars. The largest one recorded was the size of a semi truck in diameter. The edible part of the plant is the seeds that are produced once a year after the plant flowers. They are difficult to harvest and grow and so are extremely expensive. The seeds taste just like almonds and have mild growing properties making them prized to young people hoping to gain an inch or two of height before they stop growing.

Butterspice: closely related to the basil plant, this magical herb has a yummy spring green leaf with a pale yellow underbelly. In the rainy seasons the leaves balloon into pockets of juice that taste just like unsalted butter! It doesn’t have the same fat content as actual butter so it’s no good for baking, but it makes a lovely spread.

The Mariana tea plant: this magical plant was bred by a monster in farmswap through crossbreeding various tea bushes with some less popular magical varieties. The result is a hardy bush designed to handle floods and overwatering easily, making it perfect to grow underground in waterfall. The bush’s tea leaves are sweet and fruity, and they get incredibly sour if sugar is added, so it’s best to drink the tea as is.

Blackgrass: native to the grimms, this tiny low growing herb consists of hundreds of pitch black blades carpeting the floor much like grass would. Blackgrass is extremely aromatic having a peppery scent. It has great antibacterial properties making it a common medicine and cleaning supply ingredient. A common household cleaner can be made from infusing a spray bottle of water with a handful of Blackgrass and some lemon. Its spicy flavor however is overpowering and rarely used in cooking. A single blade can turn a full cauldron of liquid into an eye watering spicy hell

Ash-choker: a thick woody vine native to lamiatale, the ashy choker is a difficult plant to maintain as it grows rapidly choking the life out of any trees it entangles. It’s a parasitic plant that steals nutrients from its hosts, but also craves ash. The plant reproduces with fire so is often first seen sprouting in campfires and fireplaces. A fully grown ashchoker produces a wrinkly grey fruit in the summers that has an avocado like texture and a peachy flavor.

Hawkweed: a thorny greenish grey herb that grows best in high places, hawkweed is native to all the bird AUs. The magical herb creates a spiky orange flower in the fall that can be eaten. It tastes a bit like dill and cloves and can be powdered into a spice. Eating one raw will temporarily enhance ones eyesight far beyond what that person could normally see.

Kingsfoil: previously known as the silver gourd, its name was changed to honor king, the royal who made the vegetable popular. Kingsfoil is a type of pumpkin developed by a farmfell mage. It has a handsome metallic silver skin and a deep crimson flesh when cut open. It’s incredibly juicy and soft inside when you get past the rough skin and tastes great in barbecues and skewers. The pumpkins when hallowed out and dried also make handsome decorations.

Barrelstalk: a magical plant native to Underwest, this plant is distantly related to celery if you trace its roots far enough back. The barrelstalk is a bright yellow plant with white tipped thin stringy leaves. The plant has a single yellow stalk that balloons out to the size of a watermelon in the rainy months. The stalk can be tapped, and the juice has moisturizing properties making it a great lotion or lubricant. It’s used often in factories to keep machinery running smoothly

Dead man’s guide: the dead man’s guide is a magical tree with a silvery grey bark, and pale blueish leaves. It’s a beautiful tree resembling a wisteria, and in the fall it produces gorgeous navy blooms packed in tight little balls all around the tree. The flowers can be eaten raw and are often sprinkled on salads and desserts for decorations. However owning a tree is highly controversial as a dead man’s guide will only grow on top of the burial spot of a dead human. No other animal seems to give the tree the boost it needs. Often the dead man’s guide has been a key piece of evidence in solving murder cases.

Rosedew: a magical variety of roses found in all the farm AUs before the crash, the rosebush only blooms in the early hours of the morning and produces a pretty lavender colored flower. When blooming season is over, the leftover rose hips can be sautéed and eaten in a variety of dishes. They have a crisp floral taste. The rosedew bush seems to attract all moisture around it always keeping the soil surrounding it damp within a 10 foot radius. Many gardeners use this bush in dry areas to save on water costs

Halo citrus: a magical citrus tree from the farm AUs, this tree resembles the classic orange tree. However its fruits instead have a pure white peel, and the flavor is incredibly tart. If one eats a halo fruit, they’ll find their insides start glowing like a beacon, causing glowing eyes, nostrils and mouths in most cases lol. The thick peel is a wonderful part of cooking and gives many recipes an orangey grapefruit flavor when grated. The fruit is also used in cosmetic potions that brighten a monsters magic color.

Bullrush bamboo: a magical variant of bamboo that is a dark brown in color, can be around 10-14 inches thick in diameter (per stem) and is incredibly tough. The bamboo magically strengthens itself with every physical impact it receives. Thankfully the effect lessens with inactivity or else it would be invulnerable. The plant is used as fencing for ranchers but has to be maintained regularly or else it will overrun the fields. The shoots of young plants can be eaten just like regular bamboo

Calcifern: found in lamiatale originally, this massive deep olive fern has bone white roots and a distinct chalky scent. It’s a bit woodsy tasting, but it seems to magically enhance bone strength and is an amazing superfood for those healing from breaks or growing children. Also the plant loves table scraps, and any bone and meat material left next to it will get scooped up by a moving root and dragged into the soil. Some dedicated calcifern forums claim the plant can be trained and shows signs of affection to its owners, but it hasn’t actually been proven.

Starseeds: a crop from the outer AUs, starseeds come from a small bush with navy blue stems and deep reddish purple leaves. The fruit of the plant is edible as well and is known as Star-bites, but the real magic is in the seeds. When the cluster of seeds inside each berry are eaten, one begins to produce quite a bit of body heat. It can be dangerous for humans to eat the seeds in large amounts, but most monster types find them delightful. They have a sort of fruity and cinnamon like flavor

Crimson ladies: a flower created by a farmfell monster and the rights completely bought up by Marcello goldenfoot for one of his mates anniversary gift. The crimson lady is a beautiful pitcher plant type flower with deep dark red petals that seem to blacken the closer you get to the flowers base. The flower has a wide opening and base, but a small middle giving it the appearance of a lady with an hour glass figure. The whole plant is edible, with the small spiked leaves being used in salads, the roots cooked like parsnips and the flowers able to be eaten raw. The huge petals are used as wraps for a tasty savory filling and steamed. They have a sort of nutty flavor.

Bun-Yums: a magical plant closely related to wild garlic, bun yums are adorable. The plant has two fuzzy green leaves resembling a bunny’s ears when poking out of the ground. The underground bulb of course is the edible part and is garlicky, and a tad spicier than its non magic counterpart. The plants ears vibrate when it senses rain and will give people a weather warning two days in advance.

Death-a-dil: a white petaled daffodil that looks a little bit like a birds skull. It’s a popular flower among alternative communities and is often used as inspiration for jewelry and clothing patterns. If the flowers need to be watered, they make little “ah ah ah” noises like a person in pain. Creepy. The bulbs can be picked and eaten and taste like any other flower bulb really.

Slugstool: a mushroom seen in almost every au, the slugstool is a slimy grey fungi with a flat top and wide stem. It emits a fishy flavor when ready to create spores in order to attract animals nearby. When the animal takes a bite, a little cloud of shrooms pores flies out of the stem. The slugstool is considered disgusting by most human standards with a vinegary fishy and mudlike flavor, but to monsters it’s absolutely delicious. They say it tastes just like snails.

Gravefist: a pale white mushrooms with five knobs that vaguely resemble a skeletons hand. The mushroom is native to undertale only and was a staple crop in the underground due to its hardy nature. It is strong against most pests and diseases and requires very little upkeep. It has a chicken like flavor and pairs well in any savory dish.

Jabberweed: from most underground AUs, the jabberweed is the echo flowers ugly cousin. It is a prickly puke green, thorny, and the flowers it produces are small and spaced too far apart to really provide decoration. The flowers will pick up sounds like echo flowers, but can’t quite piece them together, so the weed jabbers gibberish at people as they pass. It is edible, but rather flavorless. However it’s shelf life is unmatched, so is often used as a natural preservative in other foods. Almost every convenience food brand in ebott contains jabberweed.

Aaaaand more magic animals!

Fun-guys: not to be mistaken with fungi bitties, these little walking mushrooms come from undertale, underswap and underfell. They aren’t actually mushrooms but are more closely related to toads. The little animals have a shroom like top, and every spot on their head is in fact a little eyeball. Two legs underneath is what they walk with. They’re delicious, tasting like sweet pork when cooked, and they breed fast, so they’re quite popular as a meat animals. Some cuter varieties though are reaching the market as pets as well.

Earth wyrms: native to all the Drake AUs, this magical amphibian resembles a massive scaled earth worm. It reaches nearly 30 feet in length when fully grown but rarely gets wider than the average bagel. The scales are soft to the touch and warp and stretch with the skin underneath giving the animal a gummy feeling to it. The earth wyrm was domesticated and used as a farm aid for its ease in breaking apart soil. It also magically enriches the dirt it digs in saving farmers a fortune in fertilizer. In the winter, the wyrms lay clusters of slimy eggs that are also pickled and spread on toasts or stuffed in pies. Unfortunately the animal itself is quite toxic to humans, and tastes nasty to monsters.

Myrmidon: an ant variety from the bird AUs. These ants have wings themselves and share a hive mind in each colony with the Queen as the leader. The queens can be tamed and trained in order to control the colony. The ants are farmed as a cheap protein and can also be used to clear fields of all vegetation. They taste a bit sour and are often sprinkled on salads like bacon bits. The wings are delicious candied.

Stagglers: is it a deer, a pig, a beaver? Who knows? This strange animal boasts a round body, flat wide tail, long slender legs and antlers, and a hoglike snout with the teeth to match. The straggler is an animal only seen in the factory AU. The monsters and humans were quite puzzled to hear that other surface AUs didn’t have them, but they didn’t have giraffes so there was a trade off I guess. Anyways the straggler was kept by some hobbyist who raise them for their meat and antlers. They’re skittish animals and difficult to care for, and they breed like rabbits making the wild ones a real nuisance. They taste great though, just like venison!

Giant centipede: from lamiatale, this ancient massive bug grows to the size of cars, and is venomous as well. Despite the danger, many of the java people were successful in taming them, and eventually domesticating them. There’s a few different domesticated varieties from various Java clans, but generally the domesticated ones aren’t venomous. The centipede was used as a work horse, transportation, and a hunting hound. In many households today it’s also a beloved pet. Wild ones however are incredibly dangerous and must be reported if spotted.

Hippocampus: from Hadaltale exclusively, this magical horse has flippers for front legs and a beautiful fish tail in the back resembling a koi fish. Where a horses mane is also a fish’s dorsal fin. The hippocampus is carnivorous and uses as a hunting animal aiding the hadal monsters in their hunts, and when food was scarce, they were used as rations as well. They’re extremely popular pets and many purebred varieties can be found along ebotts coasts. The hadals host shows for them.

[fleckcmscott]

Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth.  "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @fakestreet​ @ralugraphics​​ @iartsometimes​

[angrythingstarlight]

The last safe house

Word Count:2 K

Pairing: Darkish Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Smut, fluff, hint of angst, 18+

Summary: Bucky has been protecting for the past year. Can he let you go? For @jennmurawski13​ birthday challenge. Prompt: Forced partnership

A/N: I do my own proofreading and sometimes Grammerly lets me down, so I will fix mistakes later. 

Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are open!

Do not repost my works anywhere! Feel free to like, comment and reblog, I love that!

Divider courtesy of the talented @whimsicalrogers

Bucky checks the perimeter of the residence before heading to the makeshift office. He doesn’t bother with the lights, the small room bare except the desk and chair in the middle. He types up the weekly report that Fury insists on even though there hasn’t been activity since the last safe house was breached. 

 He almost lost you that night, the events still haunt his nightmares. Your eyes drowning in fear as you were almost taken from him. He failed you once and he’s vowed to never do that again. 

 For the past five months, its’ only been the two of you. It was Natasha’s idea of the husband and wife cover, arguing that it would be easier for Bucky to protect you if needed. That you two could slip under the radar, run without having to worry about others. 

Fury fought against it, wanting his team to be involved, until it was revealed that it was his agent that betrayed you. Because of S.H.I.E.L.D. you almost—The crunching of metal breaks his musing, he looks down to see the laptop twisted under his hands. 

He can hear you turning over in the bed, a wistful curve of his lips as he stands. He tosses the laptop on the floor, making his way to the bedroom. He climbs in beside you, looking over your sleeping frame. 

The soft dawn light filters through the parted black curtains, illuminating the room. Bucky waits for you to awaken, listening for the subtle changes in your breathing. You make the same disgruntled grunt every morning, your small protest over waking up makes him smile each time. You stretch your arm above your head, back arching, his eyes on the curve of your ass. His hands twitch, wanting to touch you, caress you. “Hello, Doll”. 

 “Good morning, James” you purr, voice raspy from sleep. You turn, a soft smile curving your lips as you rub your eyes. “Sleep okay?”. 

 His answer always the same, not wanting you to worry about him, he prefers you to be unaware, you sleep better this way. You ruffle his hair, your soft laughter warming him. “I really need to cut this”. He nods, willing to do whatever you asked him to, part of him hoping that you feel the same. Somewhere the lines have blurred, part of him knows that, but when you smile at him, touch him he doesn’t care. 

 You turn over, sitting up, letting your legs dangle over the bed. Another stretch drawing a deep groan from you, the sound stirring his groin. He shifts the blanket to hide his erection, folding his hands behind his head. You grin at him before walking to the bathroom. 

When he hears the shower turn on, he leaves the comfort of the warm bed. It’s Saturday, he’s promised to make you breakfast. He’s anxiously stirring the eggs. He knows this is part of the act, the happy couple. But you could be happy with him, this could be his life. 

 He needs it to be. 

 He needs you. 

 You step out of the shower, the thick fluffy towel wrapped around you. The faint smell of bacon coming through the closed door. Wiping off the condensation in the mirror, you get ready smiling when you notice he’s replaced your lotion with a fresh bottle. 

 This all would have been perfect, if only- You shake the thought away, flinging drops of water across the mirror. 

  Looking through the closet you pick the blue sundress, he likes this color on you even though he would never tell you. You picked up on the way his eyes brightened when you wore particular dress a few months ago, just a flash in his eyes that over time you, one of many tells of his. You walk to the kitchen, the soft pad of your feet unnoticeable to your ears, but you’ve learned that he can always hear you. No matter how quiet you try to be, there’s a comfort in that. You both know that he will always protect you. 

  Breakfast is a quiet affair, your eyes glancing towards each other’s, dancing away as you eat. You practice what you want to say in your head, hoping that for once the words will come out right. “James-” 

  “Doll”. You both freeze, starting again only to stop. You gesture for him to continue, resting your chin on your hand as you pick a strawberry out of the small red bowl in the center of the table, taking a bite as he speaks “There’s a farmers market, I know you like those things and-”. 

  You wait, taking another bite when you realize that he struggling to finish his question. The small beads of sweat along his brow, the way he swallows a little too hard, utterly adorable. “That would be nice, James”. You never had it in you to tease him. 

  You clear the table, moving around each other, close but never quite touching. You can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stands behind you, handing you a plate. You want to forget everything and lean back into him, his arms wrapping around you. Blinking, you find his reflection in the yellow paned window above the sink. 

 He places his hands on your arms, his head drops to your hair. You lean forward, plunging your hands into the water. You catch the hurt flashing in his eyes before he steps away. A twinge in your heart, its building over the weeks, wondering when it will break. 

  Finding your sandals, you sit on the arm of the old leather couch, swinging your feet as you wait for him. You think about the movie nights, how you first sat on opposite ends of the couch before somehow meeting in the middle. How you coaxed him out of the office for dinners, you both hated eating alone, things have changes since it’s just been the two of you. This new cover as a married couple-, you sigh, unable to finish the thought. 

 He jogs down the stairs, your eyes light up when you see the matching blue shirt and jeans. “You look good, James”. He ducks his head, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. 

  You miss the whispered reply, already halfway out the door. You rest against the truck door, jumping at the loud beep as he unlocks it. Turning on the music on to mask the silence, the world a blur of greens and blues as he drives down the road. 

  The market is more crowded than you expected. Anxiety roils through you as you look around. You’re fighting the urge to run when he places his hand on yours. Taking a deep breath, you grasp his hand, entwining your fingers between his large calloused ones. He leads you through the throngs of people, stopping at the booths that catch your eye. Nerves melting away under the scorching sun, the noise of the crowd fading as you explore. 

  He’s carrying a bag of fruit, listening to you talk about a starting a garden. Bucky’s breath hitches in chest when he realizes that you’re talking about a future with him. He hides his excitement with a bite of mango. You turn to ask him a question when you see the clear juices dripping down his chin. instinctively you reach up and kiss it, rocking back on your heels as your tongue darts across your lips. He bends down, pressing his lips against yours. 

 Not moving, just waiting for you. Sighing in relief when your mouth opens, he slants his lips, tongue delving into your mouth. your hands grab his waist as he pulls you closer, desperate for more of you, lips sliding, smashing against each other. Only breaking when he’s nudged from behind you. You burst out laughing when you see the indignant elderly lady poking him with a cane. 

 That question that’s been lingering, growing louder each day hangs between you. 

 You make a choice. 

  “Lets go” you spot the field behind the market, you glance back before breaking into a run. You make it to the first tree before you hear Bucky behind you. Playful screaming, you make it past two more rows of trees before you’re scooped up into his arms. He presses you against the tree. Looking down at you, you reach up kissing his neck. You reach under his henley tugging it up, he obeys your wordless command. You run your hands down his abs, you imagined touching them so many times. 

  You remove your shirt, chest heaving as his eyes darken with passion, lust. He lifts you up against the tree, the bark scrapes your shoulder, the small wince noticed. He steps back as you wrap your legs around his waist. He falls to his knees, holding you in place. His skin hot against yours, hard where you’re soft, the missing piece you’ve been denying. His beard brushes against your shoulder as he kisses your neck, tender delicate kisses. Your hands in his hair as you guide his head. Drawing back, his wild expression matching yours, “Love me”. 

 You shift up on your knees, his hands shaking as he unbuckles his pants, sliding them down to his thighs. You feel him push your dress up, pulling your panties to the side. 

 Placing your hands on his shoulders, his eyes never leave yours as you slowly ease down onto him. Your forehead against his as you take him into you, a gentle burn swept away by waves of pleasure. You breathe him in as you adjust to him, feeling full, stretched 

 Bucky moves deliberately, part of him wondering when he’ll wake up. “I need more James” you say lips brushing against his. Your head drops to his shoulder, muffling your cries as he thrusts up. His hand stroking your back as you hold on, the pace building until he’s grunting in your ear, small praises of love, words only meant for you, only said to you. 

 Your breasts brushing against his firm chest, the feel of his lips on your skin, too much and not enough at once. You want to stay in this moment, to hold on to him, keep him in you. The high cry from you surprises you even as you arch back, the snap within you overtaking you as you cling to him. You feel him tense under you, you clench down, “give me everything, James” you whisper in his ear, holding him as he coats your walls, his arms crushing you against him. 

 Neither of you move, the salty taste of his skin on your lips as you trace your tongue on his shoulder. His hands rest on your hips, he softens within you. the first drop of rain hits your nose, you look up to see the clouds rolling in across the bright sky. The patter of the rain hitting the trees deafening around you, shrieking you slide off him, laughing as you fix your dress. You find the discarded bag, checking it before you turn around to see him watching you. 

 He holds out his hand. 

 ~~ 

 He follows you to the kitchen, holding the bags while you put everything away. “So, I hope that doesn’t go in your report” you giggle as you close the fridge. 

Bucky furrows his brow, frowning as he looks down, “Y/N, I have to report everything”. You gape, sputtering until he breaks, chuckling as you glare at him, laughing harder when you smack his arm. 

You sit on his lap during dinner, the meal mostly untouched as he feasts on your lips. His hands exploring your body, taking you apart on the table. Your wanton sobs filling the small room. 

The next morning, he’s standing behind you as you slice fruit, his head on your shoulder as you tell him the plans for the day. His phone vibrates in his pocket, you wave off his apologies as he steps out the room. 

 “Bucky,”. 

 “Hey, pal”. He replies, keeping his tone neutral, walking into the small office down the hall. 

 “It’s over, the last agent was found this morning you can come home now,” Steve says, “We’ll be there in a few hours to get you, can I speak with Y/N, we should work on her testimony now,”. 

 “She’s sleeping,”. The lie escaping his mouth before he can think. His heart hammering in chest. He can’t-, he promised to protect you. Just him. 

 “Oh, okay, tell her I called,”. 

 “I will,” Bucky hesitates , “Goodbye Steve,”. 

 “I’ll see you later,”. 

 Bucky snaps the phone in half, removing the microchip. He takes the bag hidden in the closet and checks the contents. Satisfied, he heads to the kitchen. You’re humming as you wipe down the counter. 

 “Doll, we have to go,”. You look up, tilting your head. 

 “What?”. 

 “Our location is compromised, we need to leave now,”. There’s a desperation in the air, he cards a hand through his hair. Your brows furrow as you step towards him, you can hear the lie in his voice. When he reaches for you, you take a step back. The flash of hurt back in his eyes. 

 “I promise I’ll protect you”, he whispers. He would, he has protected you from the monster hunting you. Your eyes narrowing as you search his face, you know what you should do. What you need to do. 

 You find yourself walking to him. “I know” You say putting your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him, “where are we going?”. His sigh of relief melting your heart, there are worse things that you could do right. 

 “A little place outside of the country,” 

[stiltonbasket]

can we have some nielan for the art thief au? author's choice :D

(this is more lxc-focused but there's still a dash of sweet nielan! (≧◡≦) ♡ click here for AO3 link)

__

Twenty years ago.

The last time we celebrated Muqin’s birthday with her, it was twenty years ago.

Upon later reflection, perhaps the realization ought not to have affected Lan Xichen as it did. But twenty years is long enough to be called a long time by any measure of reckoning; and Lan Xichen is thirty now, an orphan for fully twice the span that he had either of his parents, and sometimes it feels as if he no longer remembers how it was to call for A-Niang, and Fuqin instead of Shufu, or not have to explain to new acquaintances that his parents have been dead for nearly two decades.

What did he and Wangji do on Mother’s last birthday? Lan Xichen remembers their father making a cake—a flourless one, because Mother wanted to try a new recipe she found at the library—and Wangji lay down on his stomach in the living room and labored over a card for her all morning, squeaking in dismay when Mother pretended to peer over his shoulders to see what he was doing, and then he wrapped it up in silky tissue paper and presented it to her with such delight on his solemn little face that Muqin refused to let go of him for the next twenty minutes.

Xichen was in the kitchen helping their father with the cake, he thinks. Fuqin handed him three little bottles of food coloring and told him to color the frosting, which Lan Xichen did with breathless care to ensure that the frosting turned out their mother’s favorite shade of buttery yellow.

None of them knew then that it was the last birthday they would celebrate together as a family. Mother died only two months later, quietly in her bed at Fuqin’s side, and a heart attack carried their father off six months after that.

Mother’s birthday has always been something of a private holiday within the family. When she was alive their father organized quiet celebrations for her, and Lan Xichen always spent time with Wangji that day after she passed on. But today his brother has been caught up with grading at the university where he works, so Lan Xichen is celebrating the bittersweet anniversary alone.

“You would have been fifty-six today, Mother,” he says, as he burns incense at the family memorial altar and puts a pair of red-bean buns on a platter in front of her photograph: one for her and one for Father, who loved mother’s sweet baozi so much that Shufu used to tease him about it at family dinners. “Shufu and Wangji are doing well, and so am I. And Jingyi is big enough to fit into that sweater A-Jue made from the yarn you were saving—do you remember when you took me and A-Zhan to help you pick it out?”

His mother’s smiling face looks down at him from her wedding picture, as silent and tender as she always is. Muqin is resplendent in the old qipao dress she wore that day, the only luxury she really had for her hasty wedding; Lan Xichen can almost feel its smooth embroidered flowers and pankou under his fingertips, since she often took the dress out to look at it and show it to her two sons. It was eventually put away in storage along with the rest of her belongings, but Lan Xichen found the qipao while he was preparing for his own wedding some fifteen years later, and he brought it to the house he moved into with his husband just after their son was born.

Prodded by some strange urgency, Lan Xichen makes his way to the bedroom and rifles through his closet, pulling out the long silk sleeve where the qipao dress has lain undisturbed for the past eighteen months. The dress, when he removes it from the sleeve, is mostly unchanged: only creased at the spots where it was folded, and a little dusty-smelling from being in the closet.

He shakes it out, breathing in the familiar scent of his mother’s perfume clinging to the collar, and then he walks over to the full-length mirror by the bed and holds the qipao up in front of him.

For a moment, it almost looks as if—

Lan Xichen stares at his reflection, bewildered.

“Oh,” he gasps, holding one of the bedposts in a vice grip. “Oh.”

_____

When Lan Xichen was in his teens, Shufu hired a family friend to teach him how to do makeup: mainly how to make his face more angular, and deepen the shadows around his nose and eyebrows, and render his eyes just a little narrower than they truly were with highlighting powder. But it was an art like any other, so Liang-popo showed him how to do different kinds of makeup, too: how to make his cheeks look rounder, and his chin smaller, and call more attention to his lips and eyes than natural light did on its own. Lan Xichen never expected to use that half of what Liang-popo taught him, but he still remembers the basics: and his own face, still smooth and unlined by the sun thanks to the skincare regimens Nie Huaisang keeps coaxing him into, accepts the blush-toned powders and creams like paper soaking up ink.

Moisturizer, primer. Foundation, and concealing cream under his eyes. He took off his glasses and replaced them with contacts earlier, and tied back his long hair while he smoothed on a pale red lip tint; and now, with most of his makeup finished, he paints a small, dark mole high on his forehead—one that his mother had, but neither he nor Wangji inherited—and mists his face with setting spray.

He yanks his hair elastic out with shaking fingers, groping in the vanity drawer for bobby pins before putting his hair up into a loose chignon, and then he finally lifts his eyes and looks into the mirror again.

If he were not sitting, Lan Xichen thinks dizzily, he would have fainted dead away.

With shaking fingers, he removes his pants and shirt (one of A-Jue’s thicker pajama tops, since the weather was chilly last night) and divests himself of his binder, tossing it onto the bed with the rest of his clothes before he unbuttons the qipao and pulls it on. The dress fits like a second skin despite being several inches too short, but the side slits are so high that it hardly matters, and the collar encloses Lan Xichen’s pale throat exactly like it did his mother’s in her wedding photograph: just lax enough that he can’t really feel it, but smooth enough not to bother him either way.

Lan Xichen pads back towards the mirror, his bare feet dragging over the carpet as he goes, and then he looks up and meets his mother’s eyes for the first time in twenty years.

The resemblance, so far as it goes, is astounding. Mother was shorter, but she seemed quite tall to the ten-year-old son she left behind; and she had the same eyes and brows and nose and even the same cheekbones, with slightly fuller lips which were never thinned by parenthood as Lan Xichen’s lips have been. But then again, Wen Mingyan was a schoolteacher and not a harried lawyer who doubled as a museum thief by night, and her children were not so accomplished at getting into trouble as Lan Xichen’s own tiny son is.

At the thought of his baby, Lan Xichen hurries into the next room where A-Yi is fast asleep in his crib, with his thumb in his mouth and his pudgy little legs sticking straight up in the air. He rolls into Lan Xichen’s arms without waking, like a ball rolling into a comfortable hollow in the ground, and nestles happily under his chin on the short trip back to the bedroom.

Lan Xichen pulls a chair up in front of the mirror and sits down with Jingyi yawning in his lap, gazing at what could have been a window opening onto the past: his mother, young and strong and still with the bridal blush on her cheeks, cradling a fluffy-haired toddler that could have been the Lan Xichen of twenty-eight years ago.

He presses his lips to A-Yi’s chubby nose; and in the mirror his mother, seemingly overwhelmed by some kind of great feeling, kisses him.

Lan Xichen’s lips quiver. “Muqin—”

Suddenly, a door bangs on the ground floor, and Lan Xichen jolts back to full awareness just in time to hear his husband and brother talking in the kitchen. Mingjue seems to have returned with armfuls of grocery bags, which crinkle so loudly that A-Yi blinks awake and starts to fuss, tugging at a lock of hair that slipped out of Xichen’s loose updo.

“A-Huan?” Mingjue calls, followed by the swift thuds of his feet and Wangji’s coming up the stairs. “A-Huan, is A-Yi…”

And then both of them screech to a halt on the landing, gawking through the open door at Lan Xichen’s soft hair and make-up and the red bridal qipao. For a moment, Lan Xichen wonders what the picture looks like—he hasn’t worn a dress since before Wangji was born, and he’s certainly never worn make-up like this, so for all he knows it might look like some strange woman broke into the house to kidnap baby A-Yi.

But then Mingjue lets out a quiet breath and comes over to kiss him, brushing aside the tangled curls A-Yi pulled down, and wraps him up in a tight hug that smells of soap and sawdust from Mingjue’s woodworking studio.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he breathes, pressing his cheek to Lan Xichen’s. “I stopped to pick up dinner and fetch Wangji from the university after I left work.”

“It’s fine,” Lan Xichen murmurs back, as Jingyi stares at the large buttons on Mingjue’s sleeve before testing his tiny white teeth on them. “I got some egg porridge ready, earlier. Do you want to eat a little before we get dinner started?”

Nie Mingjue opens his mouth, probably to declare that hot vegetable congee with pidan would be delicious after being outside in the cold; but he never manages to say so, because Wangji makes a choked noise from the hallway before taking a shaky step forward.

“Xiongzhang,” he says hoarsely. “You look, you look just like—”

Mingjue takes A-Yi into his arms, and Lan Xichen reaches out towards his brother. When Wangji staggers into his embrace, all Lan Xichen can think of is that their mother never had the chance to see A-Zhan grow up so well, or know what a name he would make for himself, or even how his face would grow into a perfect meld of hers and Fuqin’s after his baby fat melted away.

She would have had to wait many years to know that last, Lan Xichen smiles to himself. A-Zhan’s cheeks were as round as A-Yi’s until after he started college.

“Ge.”

Lan Xichen pats Wangji’s shoulder. “Mm, A-Zhan?”

Wangji hugs him impossibly tighter.

“Thank you.”

[sakiyo]

━ # HAIKYUU BOYS AS YOUR COLLEGE ROOMATES PT. 1

+ pairings: atsumu miya/reader

+ tags: atsumu bring a messy dude </3, platonic-ish relationship, uni!au

+ warnings: very brief mentions of sex, weed and alcohol, partying

+ word count: a lot probably idk they’re headcanons

+ note: this is gonna be a series but atsumu’s was wayyy too long!! the rest will probably be much shorter [i was too attached to these hcs to shorten them so enjoy]. thank you @kiyoomae for helping me with these mwah ily beaut <3

© all content from this blog belongs to ushigushi 2020. do not repost, modify, or plagiarize.

ATSUMU MIYA

girl...RUN

he’s a great person sure

but he’s not the BEST roommate

not even osamu wants to room with him, but honestly he just wants cheap rent [like every other student alive]

so when he sees a ‘roommate wanted’ poster on campus, he basically believes that this a sign from god that he should go to your interview

one thing about atsumu:

HES A CATFISH!

he knows that first impressions are one of the most important things in life [mostly because of volleyball and what not]

so naturally he’s going to act the way you want him to !! toxic trait: subtle manipulation i’m telling you

and so when he shows up at your place, hes pretty much perfect. he looks put together and his fit is immaculate okay?

usually, you aren’t one to judge a book by its cover, but when it comes down to roommates….better safe than sorry babe

and the second atsumu mentions his gravitation towards volleyball and sports, you feel like you’ve won the lottery.

a clean and well put roommate who ALSO spends most of their time away from the apartment? what more could you ask for?

and as a quick bonus: HES HOT!! [so you can definitely brag to your friends about the attractive roommate you scored]

you’re quick to say yes, and as soon as you know it he’s added to the contract with your landlord!

atsumu keeps up his facade for another two weeks or so; washing dishes, keeping clean, never being too noisy and giving you your personal space

but when he finally shows his true colours?

you’re not sure if you want to strangle him or rip out your hair strand by strand

whew....he is messy.

atsumu [osamu too] is a momma’s boy, he’s never really had to do dishes or anything like that unless he has to

he never does his dishes. you ALWAYS end up washing them because you prefer a tidy kitchen

dont get me started on the cups

he uses YOUR cups and leaves them littered around the apartment like they’re easter eggs for you to hunt. one time, you found your favourite mug under a couch???

his room is no different either

you prefer to stay away from it, but you had caught a glimpse of it through his partially open bedroom door

....it’s a lot to process.

there are plates on his desk, disposable cups and crushed soda cans on his nightstand, clean laundry in different corners of the room and you swear you see a half full bottle of vodka that had gone missing from your own alcohol cabinet

but for some reason his room still manages to smell like lavender. and you hate that fact.

he NEVER has his house keys on him

he pretty much has you on speed dial because the amount of times this man has forgotten his keys inside the house is WILD

him: hey roomie...it’s me again...

you: atsumu it’s 11 pm and i’m out with friends, i’m not driving back just to open the door for you

him: then what am i going to do??

you: sit there and starve.

so he sits against your apartment door, playing games on his phone and texting his friends

he’s also getting clowned in the gc by suna and osamu PLS ATSUMU GO HOME [oh wait-]

when one of your neighbours pass by or see him sitting there he just gives that rlly awkward white person smile that’s like 😐

HIS PHONE DIES TOO FROM USING IT SO MUCH TOO RKDKGKJ

so basically he’s sitting there, hungry and bored.

when you come back, he’s almost asleep, a little bit of drool hanging on at the side of his mouth

“wake up, i brought you food.”

atsumu might be an annoying roomie, but you’re not heartless.

he 100% gets hair dye all over the bathroom, and he NEVER washes it out

so you’re not too happy when you have to replace your rug because there was a massive bleach stain on it

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, GENEROUSLY TOO

like atsumu...sir 🤣🤚 that shits like 20 dollars! stop using globs of it at once

istg you could buy a new bottle of shampoo/body wash and it’s already halfway through after a week or so

he promises that he’ll stop, but it just gets worse

NEVER let this man go grocery shopping for you by himself, you’ll get everything BUT what you asked for

okay, he does get you what you asked for, but not really

you ask for wheat bread and he gets white bread. you ask for vanilla ice cream and he gets you chocolate

why??

“i think it’s better than what you originally put down.”

you want a new roommate.

but as time passes by, you deduce that he has some redeeming qualities: like how fun he is when drunk, or how he can keep you entertained for hours about his surprisingly interesting days

you’ve met his friends too! they all love you

but they’re also quite sorry for you for having to put up with atsumu

sometimes, you’ll even join them with them when they’re all hanging in your living room

you never miss the small blush that creeps onto tsumus face whenever his old teammates tell you about the stories he deliberately left out to make himself look cooler [pls give this man love he needs it]

suna: wait i have a video of him getting pummeled in the face with a volleyball-

atsumu: ALRIGHT ITS TIME FOR YOU GUYS TO GO!!

atsumu: y/n has a test tomorrow!!

you: tomorrow’s saturday-

if you two have roommate rules, he definitely breaks some of them

no parties without you knowing??? like hell he’s following that

atsumu likes to party! he doesn’t mind hosting one or two every now and then

so he picks a day that he knows you’ll be out for the night, most likely studying because you won’t be back home until around 1 am

so the apartment is a mess and it’s partially trashed, there’s a lingering scent of weed and alcohol, someone probably vomited in your sink, and it’s loud.

so loud that you can hear it from the elevator.

you had decided to come home early and surprise atsumu with his favourite takeout, but you’re already met with tipsy and wasted bodies littered along the corridors, and it doesn’t take very long for you to put two and two together and realize it’s atsumu’s doing

long story short, you and atsumu have to go around the apartment to deliver personal apologies to your neighbours [this definitely isn’t your first or last warning]

in terms of hookups?

atsumu doesn’t care too much for sexual relationships, since his priority lies in volleyball and actually graduating, but he’ll have someone over every now and then

usually, it’s meant to be a time when you’re not around, because the walls are thin as fuck

but atsumu doesn’t really care in the heat of the moment

so yeah, you definitely want to neuter him when you hear incoherent moans and a headboard creaking

the morning after, you immediately chase his one night stand out of the apartment and go off on him for a second

after a few months, atsumu doesn’t get on your nerves as much

you could go as far as to call him a friend

during exam and midterm weeks, you both study together and even order takeout— which leads to the two of you passing out in your living room due to pure exhaustion

YOU HELP HIM DYE HIS HAIR

atsumu sometimes doesn’t get all of his spots because he can only do so much by himself

so after you hear his frustrated groans, you’re willing to help him dye his hair.

and from there it basically becomes a routine

you were also the one who introduced  him to TONER!!

he swears that you changed his life

he also walks around in nothing but his boxers because it’s comfortable but gets flustered and ‘mad’ when you wear nothing but an old t-shirt

forces you to come to him games to cheer loudly for him

this man- he asks you to cheer for him when he does his serve routine and when you do his head gets so big

but he denies it when his teammates tease him about you

half of his clothes have made its way into your closet! but honestly, he does not mind

his cute roommate is wearing his sweats and a hoodie with his name at the back of it, why would he be mad?

you’ve hooked up with him at least twice.

[changkyunswifey]

breakfast in bed l yoo kihyun

wc: 712

request: //

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff

pairing: kihyun x gn!reader

contains: some domestic content with Kihyun in which you make him pancakes for breakfast

a/n: so this is totally inspired from real events lmao i just made pancakes for myself the other day and this idea just popped up in my head because i wish i had someone to share them with don’t touch me i’m crying

It was not often that you woke up before Kihyun, but this morning you did.

Poor boy was exhausted from his hectic schedule and fell asleep so quickly last night you thought he had gone unconscious on the spot. It made your heart ache to see him so drained so you decided that you could treat him with some breakfast in bed to start off the day on a good note and then you would take it from here.

So you carefully slipped out of bed, replacing the cover on your sleeping boyfriend, brushing a few hair out of his face and stared at his peaceful state a little longer than you intended to, a smile making its way on your lips.

Shaking your head a bit as to get out of that enamored head space you had gotten yourself into, you made your way to your kitchen as silently as possible and got to work.

You did not have much ingredients to bake and honestly you were far from being Gordon Ramsey so after some deep thoughts you decided to make some pancakes because it didn’t seem so hard and plus it was tasty, how could you ask for more ?

You looked up for a quick and easy recipe online and gathered up the ingredients, luckily you had found everything you needed and then started to break the eggs, mesure the flour, the milk and all the other ingredients before mixing them together like said in the recipe.

The final mix looked smooth and you were pleased with the outcome, now you just had to get the pan ready, putting some oil on it so the pancakes wouldn’t stick and started making medium-shaped circles.

The first one was not what you could call a success, the shape was a bit random, more like an oval than a circle but still presentable but you had fail to wait until the pan was hot enough so it was a bit under-cooked, but it was the first one you didn’t give up and moved on to another one, which this time was a success !

You made about dozen of pancakes and at the sight of the half empty bowl you thought you could put it away and make some more tonight, with Kihyun this time. And it is just what you did and as you did this you grabbed a bottle of Kihyun’s favorite juice to pour him a glass to go with the pancakes, also picking out some toppings he might like to add on them while you were on your way.

You set down everything on a trail and made your way back to the bedroom, finding a now not so sleeping Kihyun, his eyes half opened, scrolling through his phone when his head turned to you when he heard the faint crack of the door, “I wondered where you went” he said, smiling at the sight of you before his gaze fell upon the trail in your hands, “You made breakfast ?” he asked, voice wrapped in adoration, “Yes, I made pancakes !” you said brightly, the smile he loved seeing so much adorning your soft features.

He sat down against the headboard and helped you setting the trail down so nothing would fall or spill on the bed sheets before you took out a small piece of one of the pancakes and directed it to your boyfriend’s lips, “Say aaah!” you said playfully, earning a bubbly laugh from your lover as he did as you said, the sweet taste of the pancake pleasant, it was not too firm nor too soft, just perfect. You analyzed his face with a bit of worry, waiting for a verdict.

“That is so good ! You made it yourself ? Because you will have to make those more often !” he cheered as you nodded, feeling happy with yourself for putting such an as happy expression on your loved one’s face.

“You know..” he started, “I could get used to this” he stated before leaning in to kiss you softly, taking in the scent of your shampoo, this mixed with the smell of the breakfast making him feel like home, and you thought that you too could really get used to this.

[dietdrclinic]

HOW TO INCREASE METABOLISM OF THE BODY

Metabolism is the chemical process that occur continuously inside your body. Your bodily functions like to breathe, think, digest, circulate blood, keep warm in the cold, and stay cool in the heat, rely on your metabolism.

Below are the ways to increase your metabolism:

As you grow older, maintaining body energy becomes very important because the body functionalities face many changes gradually. The major five ways that need to be intruded daily to increase your metabolism at the tender age are as follows.

•        Eat good quality proteins: Protein-rich foods, such as meat, fish, eggs, dairy, legumes, nuts and seeds, could help increase your metabolism for a few hours.

•        Do some ‘HIIT’.

Well, the word 'HIIT' is High Intensity Interval Training. The reason why HIIT is so successful is that excess post-oxygen consumption, or EPOC (yes, another industry acronym!), is produced. After the training session, EPOC increases the resting metabolic rate for twenty-four hours or more. It makes your body a fat-burning machine.

HIIT is the perfect way to condense the benefits of activity into 30 minutes or less, doing it every day, or longer than 30 minutes can put you at risk for injury, overtraining, mental burnout and prevent muscle recovery. Ideally 20 minutes should be more than enough provided done properly.

•        Shoeless Walk on Green Grass

Walking barefoot on grass helps strengthens your feet, ankles, cures chronic pains, inflammation, insomnia, improve nervous system, eye-sight, immune system, controls blood pressure, hormonal imbalance. At the same time it improves your posture, helps relieve anxiety, stress, depression, protects your body from electromagnetic fields, slows down aging and also helps in healing injuries faster. Walking barefoot is helpful to improve the mental and physical health.

•        Healthy Breakfast

Oats help in sustaining balanced weight and energy. Whereas milk and fruit give required calcium and proteins to the body cells for good mechanism. Some fruits such as strawberry, pears, kiwi, oranges, apple, and grapefruit are beneficial. Citrus fruits have properties to boost metabolism. Soak oats with yoghurt and for a oatmeal breakfast for the next day.

•        Greens & Grains

Green vegetables like spinach, broccoli, and capsicums possess a pack of essential vitamins and minerals to complete your diet. To preserve proteins and vitamins of green vegetable, cook it in low quantity of oil for 10-15 minutes only and sauté lightly rather than frying or overcooking to keep the nutrient intact. To intake whole rich of nutrients, prefer wholegrains.  It really helps in putting on that extra fat and keeping in elongated energy.

•        Sipping Water

Don’t wait until you are thirsty. Infact being thirsty is a bad sign. So, keep a bottle on desk in your office or when at home if you are in the kitchen most of the time, keep it at a place which you access most of the time so that you remember to sip. During summer, add that rock salt or lemon for giving your body the electrolytes it needs. Carry a water bottle to be consumed during your travel. Consuming two liters of water every day helps in smooth functioning of inner organs. “Never procrastinate in drinking water.”

•        Early Sweet Dreams

Early to bed and early to rise makes you not only wise but healthy and since you get your sleep tonic very well, your brain is ready and energized to function at an optimum level. Remember that as you grow older, body must undergo 8 hours of sound sleep to add flicker to your skin and body as the renewal of cells happen at higher rate in the night. A good sleep makes the body feel more energized and prevents you from stressing.

Some simple home remedies for an effective metabolism and may help burn fat:

Lemon and honey with Warm Water

Drinking lemon honey mixed with warm water everyday early morning on an empty stomach is one of the best ways to cut down pounds of fat. As a substitute for morning coffee or tea. Green Tea Green tea is one of the healthiest beverages. You can have green tea at any time.

Green tea is rich in antioxidants and nutrients, it also increases the body metabolism. It has poly phenol that helps in boosting fat oxidation and the rate of conversion of food consumed into calories. It reduces bad cholesterol in the blood.

Curry Leaves: Curry leaves are added in each of the Indian household curries, it not only flavors up the curries, but it has several health benefits. It helps in weight loss thus also helping to keep your metabolism intact.

Papaya: Good for weight loss and metabolism, papaya is a very well-known fruit with low fat, cholesterol free and low-calorie nature. It contains Vitamins, iron, calcium, riboflavin and few enzymes so you can say its an all-rounder fruit.

If our body digestive system is strong and excretory system functions properly then it becomes easy to shed the extra unwanted weight. It helps you burn fat. In fact, if you take it as a dinner replacement you may get results in few weeks only provided your rest of the day calories are balanced!

Thus, small lifestyle changes and incorporating these tips into your daily routine can increase your metabolism. A higher metabolism can help you lose weight and keep it off, keeping your energy levels high.

[megashadowdragon]

Sly Cooper Theory - Penelope's DARK Hidden Truth comments on youtube

Yeah, Penelope's history needed to be shown to us. Thru out the games, we received backstories from BOTH good and bad guys; learning why they became who they are. Penelope's story could have been explored in the 4th game, or possibly the 5th game. Since she and Bentley were dating, she could have told him about her childhood, her parents, how she became an RC pilot. From there, we'd than learn why she'd go on to betray the Cooper gang; the 4th game does (sort of) explained it, but it could have been done better. Also, the idea of Clockwork raising Penelope? I got All for One-Shigaraki vibes from this theory... Where the villian raised an poor child and molded them into their image...

I remember the theories after the game came out that Penelope was the one who helped Clockwerk transform his body with robotic parts. Seeing as he was was born in Ancient Egypt some kind of time travel being involved makes sense and Penlope is a robotic genius and now she hates Sly and the gang. Using her knowledge of Bentley's time machine to assist Sly's greatest enemy makes sense. I think that would make a pretty good twist personally....showing remorse and regret afterwards would be even better. I like a redeemable villain. When any of this may happen though....I have no idea

Here's a theory, what if it's reversed?  Penelope knows about clockwork but what if it's Penelope that helped turn him to machine, not because she was influenced but felt that she was betrayed instead, and knowing about clockwork knew where about to start her come back, after all she is just as smart as Bently just misguided, she's even made soldiers that are types of cyborgs in sly 4, not to mention it's kinda odd that her bad guys are all Robots not one is normal at all,  as for time paradoxes in sly 3 she only heard about sly's gang not much as to their skills, after sly 3 she's figured out a lot more even how much they rely on Bentley and his plans, she just didn't get their bond and started to hate sly. After some thought she could have snuck off to meet with clockwork to tinker with him a bit thus may be why clockwork's eyes were in the ice age time-line, a spooky thought with this is maybe there are more than one clockwork out there as during sly 4 we see every once in a while a variation of clockwork in the background, yes it's big but it's not the same as sly 1 or 2 almost like they are just watching and gathering data.

It is also symbolic relevant as eagles prey on mice! Meaning clockwork took penelope in his fangs to use her genius to manifacture the hate chip and grant clockwerk the immortality he was searching for!!!! Actually I think Vivi did a theory on Penelope helping turn Clockwerk into machine! It’s an older theory. (If I’m wrong because I forgot, it could be a MulatoSly Theory or a collab theory.) Check out all their theories videos on Sly, it’s Awesome!!!

About those easter eggs in Sly 4 either A: Clockwerk originates from the present timeline and time travelled to 10 000BC. Or B: Mainly just an easter egg, meaning Clockwerk REALLY originates from Egypt.

I feel.. wouldn't say Penelope was taken under Clockwork's wing. The Time of Him watching the Cooper Line up to Sly wouldn't have the Mecha Bird know of a future love  interest that happens to be with ties of a friend of a last link to a rival family one hated.

Seems way too much of a coincidence unless if The Clockwork Time Lord theory is in play, and even THAT Theory still seems far fetched. I like what was said of Him just being on a steady diet of Jealousy and Hate, with the sole decision of replacing his own body with souless machinery. I like the Theory so much, of the one where Penelope COMES ACROSS Clockwork remnants that very much so were miraculously alive to do its psychological damage, like how the clockwork eyes did in the past...if an actual robo eye is found in one of the bottle safes .......who..put it there?... 😳😳😳 But also, EXTREMELY very good point referencing Dr. M's battle of words back in Sly 3! That really slipped my mind, and makes perfect sense that it may have planted a seed of wrong in Penelope's mind!

Anyway, I still accept wholeheartedly of a theory where Penelope does come in contact with Clockwork. A quick comment as well about Sly in Egypt, could it be that how Sly ended up there would be because of His Cane?? If the time machines needed authentic real items of that time period to go to, would it make a heck of a lot sense that The Cane Sly has was passed down by Slytenkamen? Or that Because Sly is in Egypt, it's a paradox loop that has the Cooper family come to be by His own Hands?? 🥴🥴🥴 Wonky theory, but I like it!

Like maybe with penelope’s strengths in robotics and her time travel and new hatred towards sly maybe she instead was the creator of clockwork, atleast his robotic form

Vtnvivvi hear me out and really hear me out what if Penelope is clockwork I mean in the name clockwork and her building her own version of The Time machine plus compare clockworks voice to the Black knights voice don't don't they sound the same , no wonder we keep seeing clockwork in every single time. Of where sly's ancestors are Penelope could have just use her time machine with her owl body to just study slides ancestors in order to in order to to see what makes him tick I guess. It's just a theory. I don't really know hopefully it's a good one I guess.Show less

[matchamorphosis]

𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐴 𝐶𝐴𝑅𝑅𝐼𝑆𝐼𝑀𝐴

𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 || our beloved and sweet Steve Rogers tries to boost his sweethearts mood with music, pasta and art.

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 || fluffiest fluffy fluff

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 || avenger!steve rogers × black!fem!reader

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 3.1K

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 || 18+ sfw, depression mention, anxiety mention, a little bit of crying, red pasta sauce on white shirts, a lot of kissing, steamy scenes hinting smut but not detailing it any further, cringe poetry at the end. — minors do interact —

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 || be my baby by the ronnettes . man on the moon by zella day . adore you by harry styles

𝑤. 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 || i’ve been meaning to get this idea out and I finally managed to do so! pretty please like, reblog, and comment what you guys think and if you like my content follow me to see more of my future works! anyways, enjoy reading cherubs!

he notices the shift in the air.

the lack of your smiles and sweet giggles around the house. the house always silent now without you passionately speaking about a novel or book your obsessed with.

an absence of blasting music you would usually play when you’re experimenting with a new recipe. the soft music of your soothing humming as you take care of the vegetable and flower garden. or simply just openly talking about your plans that you’ve planned to him.

instead of being enveloped in the virtuous sunshine that you were. spreading your rich buttery rays— a grey cloud has formed. for you wake in silence, cook in silence, just breathe in silence.

it’s not good silence… it’s a grey silence that sets a dreary fog in the sunny Brooklyn brownstone. Steve has been wanting to know what’s upsetting you so sorrowfully yet the move to confront you about it isn’t the touch up he really wants.

the night before when you tucked yourself in bed his thoughts instantly knew that tomorrow was going to be your day. all for you and specially catered for you and only you to give your heart whatever it needed.

anything to see his sweetheart smile again and to hear the symphony of her laughter.

the morning comes and Steven wakes before you, showers and prepares a breakfast in bed meal fit for a fairy queen in those mystic fairy tales. bringing it to you when you stretch your arms and legs on the crisp cotton sheets of your shared bed.

♡ naked you are from the precious love making from the night before, your eyes widen at the tray in Steve’s hands and he smirks when your eyes gaze to his bare chest that isn’t covered by the white button up

♡ “good morning sweetheart,” he says steadily placing the tray to your sheet covered lap, you quirk and eyebrow to him, it’s mainly you who makes the breakfast because he always makes the pancakes lumpy with unsifted flour and eggs crunchy with shells

♡ waiting eyes filled with adoration he’s looking down on you just waiting or you to take a bite of his self made meal and you look down with a shaking laugh before taking the fork besides the plate of pancakes and taking a bite in them

♡ as you expected you bit into a lump of raw batter yet you forced the swallow the bite down, covering the thick taste of pancake batter with a fresh bite of a strawberry

♡ “they weren’t any good were they? try the eggs- and I promise no egg shells this time!” he explains taking the plate of pancakes and moves the steaming small plate in front of you, and you’re surprised as you notice the eggs weren’t abnormally dry and cold or runny with excess butter and milk

♡ the eggs go into a yellow contrast against the colorful colors of red peppers, chives, and mushrooms with little pieces of bacon here and there you were willing to actually enjoy this

♡ lifting your fork you look up at his eager eyes as you take a bite of his eggs and your utmost surprised to find them delicious, your mouth watery for another bite

♡ and with that other bite steve smiles and internally praises the aggressive five step Gordon Ramsey YouTube video he watched

♡ sure he wasted eight eggs and a ton of your garden vegetables in making the perfect scrambled eggs for you but it was worth it seeing you finishing the last bits of fluffy egg

♡ you wash it down with a cup of coffee steve prepared for you, humming in delight, one of the many things steve rogers can get right and not overthink is the right amount of sugar and cream in your coffee

♡ the soft sips between you two as you both enjoy your cooling cups, steve opens the rest of the soft curtains of the large windows letting the sunlight fill the room you keep the cool white sheet against your chest

♡ finally feeling like today is going to be a good day you find that it couldn’t get better when you lightly gasp as steve trips on the small persian rug, spilling some of the lukewarm bitter liquid from his daisy yellow mug onto his white button up

♡ the laugh that exerts you is untamable but the playful glare of steve’s stare also is as he takes of the button up and throws it into the woven laundry basket in the corner of the room, taking a slight advantage as you gaze upon his muscled structure

♡ the jump from his position to the bed is heavy enough on the mattress that you bounce up, causing the coffee in your mug to spill on you

♡ the gasp that follows steves laugh is return by your piercing glare as you settle the coffee mug down on the night dresser besides you

♡ smacking steve’s shoulder away as he attempts to draw closer and closer to your exposed chest, having you soaked the white sheets with the brown liquid your neck and upper chest are sticky with coffee and smelt like it to

♡ “go away, i’m mad at you,” you murmur but you don’t even attempt to push steves face away from your neck, his tongue licking the sweet coffee from your skin

♡ “c’mon sweetheart, even when I made you breakfast and fucked you good last night,” he says, the same devious tongue sliding down from your collarbones dips to the space between your cleavage and steve snuggles his face in the warm of it

♡ the sun's glare streaming from the open windows shine on you two as you feel steve’s muscled arms wrap around your waist, “steven?” you quirk although those strong arms are swift enough to carry you over his shoulder, a giggle leaves your mouth as you’re carried from your bed to the bathroom

♡ steve starting the shower, the steaming water and gentle soap foam scrubs cleanse the sticky coffee from both your skin but it seemed the coffee wasn’t the only sticky warm essence that needed to be cleaned from both your skin

♡ the afternoon rolled by, the steamy interactions of you and steve in the shower ended hours ago however the same teasing is still persisting as you two prepare your lunch

♡ you and him have loved the pasta in that one restaurant he took you on a date months ago, and it was like a single sparking magnet as you two both said that pasta would be great this evening

♡ so immediately, you jumped from your side of the couch forgetting the remote in your hands as you surfed through the channels and he followed you after dog earring his current page of his book

♡ and for once in a short while cooking in your own kitchen is bringing you joy again, the chopping board in front of you presenting the sliced tomatoes fresh from your garden, you’re thrilled that this summer beared more than last years crop

♡ turning your head over your shoulder you see steve hovering over the stove, stirring the minced garlic and onions that soak and simmer in the olive oil in the large pot, slightly moving his shoulders and hips to the upbeat temple of The Ronettes

♡ you shake your hips turning and walking by his side, his eyes never leaving yours he stirs the mixture as you place the tomatoes in the steaming pot the delicious hiss of the juicy redness basking in the garlicky onion oil has you both hovering your noses over the pot and taking a deep inhale, giggling as you two let the pot come to a heavy simmer

♡ you refill your empty glass with wine again, noticing steves is empty as well you refill his as you savor in the open mouthed neck kisses, teasfully scolding steve as he bites

♡ the music coming from the small tiny stereo is impossible for it to flood the thoughts in your mind but it seems to do its lyrical magic as steve takes you by the hand and twirls, hands at your hips and yours on his broad shoulders you dance and waltz around the grand white marble kitchen

♡ the misplaced steps eased with wine soaked giggles and chuckles, the smell of the ready tomato sauce, shredded parmesan, and homemade flour pasta dough transport you two to that lovely date you two had at the italian restaurant months ago

♡ even though you two can dance forever, both your tired feet hurry to complete your homemade meal; the sight of the red sauce drenching the thick noodles with the shredded pieces of cheese on top and the buttered bread basket have you both hurrying to prepare the lunch outdoors

♡ dressing the backyard table handsomely, the checkered red and white table cloth covers the rusty ancient metal the scene beautiful around the vast flowers and green vegetation

♡ white china plates along with the companying wine glass, shiny forks and napkins go atop; the bottle of red wine and pot of pasta in the middle you complete the table with a vase of fresh plucked flowers

♡ steve grabs your waist from behind, you lace your fingers with his as you find your both swaying side by side, you move your head to see steves eighth glass empty softly smiling as his lips reach down to kiss your cheek

♡ it only makes him wrap his arms around you tighter; “dear?” interrupting his trail of kisses he only hums a response, continue to dance while adorning your neck with his wine-suckled lips

♡ “what are you doing?” the deep giggle from your lips is replaced with a moan once you feel his fingers rub your cunt through your blue gingham sundress

♡ “i’m sorry darling but I can’t think when you’re around, you drive me,” he whispers and that makes you smirk, “you can’t get drunk steven, may I remind you that dreaded blessing doesn’t grace you,”

♡ that remark is disregarded as you moan yet again when his hand creeps under the hem of the dress, trailing his fingers to rub the wetness of your underwear

♡ “I get drunk off your love, you are indeed a blessing in disguise,” he hums in your ear

♡ “and what would the disguise be? dreaded?” your voice slightly weak although you keep your best to respond in the same teaseful manner

♡ “when I get drunk off your love, I understand more and more that anything dreaded about you is how addicting your love is.”

♡ that helps ease the uneasiness in your belly a little but your quietness isn’t so reassuring so he twirls you in the spot, he will not have you unhappy on this special day

♡ “let’s eat baby, I hate to waste our meal to only dig into the one in front of me,” his words reel a bashful smile from you and you two find your way to your table, finally forking the cheesy pasta into your mouths it goes excellent along with the buttered rolls and glasses of wine

♡ forceful after forkful, glass after glass you two talk just how you two used to and the feeling fills the anxiety riddled hole in your chest, he enjoys the strong smiles and giggles from you as you both childishly slurp your pasta and wine

♡ a loud drunken snicker spills from your mouth when his forkful of pasta lands on his white button up again and again, the poor white article stained with red pasta sauce and red splotches of wine, his second one of the day

♡ “steven I fear for the next white button up in your closet,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes at you however a smug smirk forms as he shrugs his shoulders

♡ “you’re right dear, I wouldn’t want to add onto our laundry,” he says and you smile while taking a sip of your wine and he disguards the stained article of clothing to the empty chair besides him

♡ the white wifebeater showcasing his thick arms and toned chest, the yellow sun rays seem to fully bask his body, creating a golden glow against his skin

♡ even when you could unashamedly stare at him forever you feel your face heating up as his smirk and sexually provoking stare meets your eyes

♡ you roll your eyes at his handsome smug face, looking down at your plate, your forkful of pasta in one hand and glass in the other

♡ steve goes back to his pasta however his wandering hands rest on your knee and you aren’t surprised how you practically melt just from that action

♡ “try to not make a mess of yourself steven, you’re doing the laundry this week,” you slyly smirk giggling when he keeps attempting to slip his fingers in between your tightly shut thighs

♡ “don’t worry about me doll, but I can smell your mess from here,” he smirks and you’re breathless as you open your legs and allow his fingers dip into your mess

♡ pure loveliness that’s what you embodied, lying upon the crisp white sheets of cotton the sunlight creates a glowing aura around you

♡ a pencil in his hand he does his best to captivate and illustrate the hills and bends, the dips and curves of your smooth bare skin

♡ the colors are vivid and bright in the cerulean rises of his eyes, the shiny green grass beneath the thin white sheet, your rich skin in the peachy pink sheer drape, the golden rays shining down against the apples of your cheek

♡ how is steve capable of capturing all of this?

♡ there is a twinkle in your eyes, a smile pulling on your shiny lips, the perplexed uncertainty displayed on your lover's face is humorous; the way his fist is under his jaw as he looks in pure concentration at his sketch

♡ you eyeing his bare chested physic is ironic, that now you are mentally sketching your lover as he sits unknowingly mistaken as to what to do to improve his sketch of you, it seems like the universe has planned you two to be parallels

♡ steve looks like the white marble statues those genius architectures long ago spent decades trying to perfect, to make the boulder of marble into something someone could worship

♡ the warm cloud buzzing in your chest is truly youthful and pure knowing this carved marble Adonis is yours, the truth has you smiling to yourself, the sweet sight he’d see all the time despite the few days you were in your sad blue

♡ the joyful beam so pearly white and charming it reminds steve of the beautiful women who covered his mother’s makeup tins, he seems to keep marveling at your beauty instead of sketching

♡ “dear?” your voice soft and smooth it awakens him and moves his eyes from your bare thighs to your eyes, and that’s what he has gone wrong, your eyes; he was never good with drawing eyes and it be an insult trying to draw yours

♡ “yes dear?” his voice coming off an octave deeper the angel he has his head makes a few blond hairs fall from his hairline to his eyes and you giggle

♡ gliding your fingers through the golden locks moving them away to see his blue irises digging into yours, but yours are down to the pink plumpness of his mouth

♡ it’s a tell on the neediness although the sharp features he possesses makes you bat away shy and steve laughs this time

♡ one of his hands softly grabbed your turning face, the smile you both share individually is childish and pure like young school children sharing a kiss at recess

♡ although you two aren’t children the way steve smirks at your state and how your hands touch all the right spots on steve chest is making you guys feel young

♡ if only the sun didn’t have to set you two can bask in the yellow sunlight and enjoy your session of naked body sketches, baskets of strawberries and diamond glasses of rosè

♡ but when your lips touch, the sun doesn’t set nor does it rise for the feel of your mouth against his makes all of humanity reset, the blissful seconds of the warm sunlight leaving your skin you have one another to keep you warm

♡ when your lips part the sun is disappearing in the sky and the moon begins to show herself, the honey bees not swarming the flowers they will return tomorrow morning

♡ the shadow presenting itself in the brick ground and grassy patch garden steve carries you in his arms into the house

♡ as you lay your head on his chest you know that blue feeling in your chest is slowly passing but as someone as patient as steve is to you and the kindness you give to yourself and to him you know

♡ tomorrow will be the different yet hold the same adoration as today, forever

♡ the poem steve has planned for reader that he will read to her before she goes to bed ♡

DEAREST LITTLE HONEY you are a gift for the mind and soul, your sweet remarks and actions are like the buzzing bees of spring. collecting and gathering the yellow pollen, you gently pluck the saturation just from a touch. a shoulder, hand, cheekbone you collect all the sweet smelling pollen from me, yet you give it back.

but how? you may ask, a bumble bee does not give back the pollen it took from a flower! but it does, it returns the pollen from the flower, from time to time in quick seconds with devoted speed, time and amity.

it passes the pollen from flower to flower, till it’s love sprouts thousands more. and the flower the bee started with does not grow old but it eventually releases its seeds of opportunity. for the act of one simple flower, one kind favor sprouted the love and devotion of a thousand. and we should know that I am not a small flower fearing the love of the bumble bees anymore but a field of flowers that continue growing passionately. I am a product, the very nature of the aftermath of your sweetness, my dearest little honey

[bledsun]

lukayuk - stardew valley wiki

birthday: summer 2 lives in: cindersnap forest address: abandoned house the variq home family: mother, father, brother (eldest), brother (middle) friends: dwarf, junimos, krobus, evelyn, linus, pierre, alex(?) marriage: yes best gifts: spicy eel, fire quartz, complete breakfast, gold bar, sunflower, whale meat soup

schedule varies by season, varies by year. typically returns to father’s home island beginning of winter & returns in either spring, summer, or fall of that year. each year is different based on her father’s fishing schedule back on his home island. obsidian isle is a relatively small island nestled in the middle of the gem sea between the ferngill republic and the gotoro empire. although it is technically gotoro empire territory, the island itself has been a neutral ground for decades. it’s fishing and mining industries supplies both the gotoro empire and the ferngill repubic with much needed resources. each season, her schedule varies. sometimes, she picks up shifts at the bar. other times, the library/museum. sometimes even pierre’s store. most often, she can be found at the community center or the cindersnap forest near her home. she frequents the mines adventuring. on rare occasions, she may be found in the secret woods or witches swamp/hut. she is never seen at the beach or near bodies of water except during festivals/events (this may change after the eight heart event).

relationships she has a complicated relationship with her parents, who are fairly strict. she is pretty close with her brothers & often talks about missing them since they’ve moved out & moved on with their lives. she flirts with just about everyone. she has very few close friends. morris is her sworn enemy. she often gets in trouble with mayor lewis. pierre has a soft spot for her thanks to her anti-joja corp antics. she has an innate connection to magic and the supernatural, making herfriends with the junimos, dwarf, and krobus. she enjoys picking flowers to give to evelyn whenever she is in town as a thank you to looking after her for some time while she was younger and she often offers linus food she forages. verse dependent: timeline dependent, she and alex spend time growing up together when evelyn is her caretaker, her parents are very busy working and needing the support.

gifts- birthday

loved:  ❛ wow, this is a pretty great gift. thank you! ❜

liked:  ❛ a birthday gift? for me? thanks! ❜

neutral:  ❛ i’m surprised you remembered my birthday. ❜

disliked:  ❛ what a weird birthday gift. ❜

hated:  ❛ ...are you kidding? ❜

gifts

loved  ❛ for me? really? wow, thank you! ❜ spicy eel. fire quartz. complete breakfast. gold bar. sunflower. whale meat soup.

liked  ❛ oh, sweet. thanks! ❜ anything foraged. all flowers. all cooked food. all animal products. 

neutral  ❛ hmph. thanks. ❜ all fish. alcohol. shells. anything related to magic.

disliked  ❛ ha! seriously? ❜ seaweed. algae. white algae. seafoam pudding. monster items. void items.

hated:  ❛ this is a joke... ❜ anything bought at joja mart. joja corp products. trash. scraps.

movies & concessions

loved: natural wonders, it howls in the rain fries. ice cream sandwich. nachos. personal pizza. truffle popcorn. sour slimes. stardrop sorbet.

liked: the brave little sapling, journey of the prairie king cotton candy. hummus snack pack. kale smoothie. popcorn. star cookie.

neutral: wumbus, the zuzu city express apple slices. jasmine tea. jawbreaker. salmon burger. salted peanuts. rock candy.

disliked: the miracle at coldstar ranch  panzanella salad. chocolate popcorn. black licorice. cappuccino mousse cake.

hated: mysterium joja corn. joja cola.

heart events

two hearts: enter the cindersnap forest anytime during fall year 1.

four hearts: enter the community center anytime while she is there.

six hearts: enter pelican town between 11pm and 1am at the end of spring year 2.

eight hearts: enter the beach between 8am and 10am during summer year 3. luka is standing by the water. as you approach, she explains she has been afraid of the water since a terrible accident where she almost was swept out to sea as a child. she takes your hand, saying she wants to be brave and trusts you. you both slowly wade into the water.

ten hearts: enter the secret woods. when you enter the secret woods, you will see luka practicing her sword skills and chatting with the junimos. she is surprised, however says this is the perfect time to tell you her secret. she explains her connection to nature, keeping the balance, and the junimos. she states that she is grateful to find someone with a similar connection, you kiss under the stars, and fireflies sparkle around the screen.

group ten-heart event: luka does not participate in the group event.

fourteen hearts: exit the farmhouse between 5:30am and 7:30am on any day in winter. since its close to the holidays, luka will admit she has been working on your gift. she states she can’t wait until the holidays to give you your gift. luka takes you into her workshop space and gives you your gift: a small set of hand crafted clay figurines of whatever is listed as the farmer’s ‘favorite thing’.

note: if you choose to destroy the community center and replace it with the joja warehouse, there is no way to earn any of luka’s heart events. joja corporation is the enemy and if you choose joja corp over the community, it will not be possible to trigger any of her heart events in the future or even become her friend.

marriage once married, luka will move into the farmhouse. like other marriage candidates, she will add her own room to the right of the bedroom. she’ll also set up a small greenhouse workshop behind the farmhouse where she'll sometimes go to study magic and work with the juminos on improving the town, working on art projects, and protecting the wildlife. when she leaves the farm, its often to go to the community center. on rainy mornings and mornings when luka stays inside the farmhouse all day, she may offer you ginger ale. on rainy nights, she may offer you dinner: roots platter, chowder, autumn’s bounty, super meal, or fruit salad. on new years' eve (winter 28), she'll give you a bottle of wine.

quests

vandalize joja mart: luka will randomly request help with a ‘secret project’ by bringing her an egg (any size/quality) to the east side of pelican town between 11pm and 1am. if you walk into pelican town with the item in hand at that time, you will have a cutscene where she is egging jojamart. she will ask if you’d like to join. if you say yes, you will receive 3x item value and 1 friendship heart. if you say no, you will receive 50-100 friendship points and 1.5x item value.

art project: in winter of year 2, you will receive a letter from luka requesting 100 pieces of clay upon her return in summer of year 3. completing this quest will reward the farmer with 1000g and a handcrafted piece of jewelry.

[dandunn]

Finally figured out how to do an ask from the dash to excuse my lateness! If you're still taking ask requests for the two characters and conversation (okay if you're not) Luffy and Zoro, Eggs, garlic or spices.

"Swirls is gonna pitch a fit." 

"It'll be fine, Zoro! Stand still!" 

Luffy sneezed suddenly, violently, almost causing Zoro to lose his grip on his calves. Zoro squeezed down harder and grunted as Luffy's elbows knocked into the top of his head. 

"You're one to talk about 'staying still'" Zoro grumbled. "What are you rummaging around in his spice rack for, anyway?" 

Tiny bottles rained down onto the kitchen counter and clattered around. 

"I’ve gotta get back at Usopp for replacing my shampoo with pepper sauce- No, that's not the one!" 

A bottle of garlic powder popped open as it fell, filling the kitchen with the sharp pong Zoro knew would take forever to get out of his clothes.

"Will the cycle of revenge ever stop?" Zoro muttered to himself.

Zoro had lost track of how long the pair had been feuding. He had a feeling it started when they'd been fishing, and Usopp knocked the brightly coloured fish Luffy had caught into the sea. It had probably been extremely poisonous judging by the colourful stripes on its skin, and the venomous spines sticking out of it. 

Not that Luffy had wanted to listen. 

"Don't you think fucking with his ingredients goes into his rule about not wasting food?" 

Zoro felt Luffy tense up, the muscles under his fingers tightening. "Oh shit, you think!? I thought they didn't count, cause you can’t sit and eat a bottle of spices." 

"Most people can't, you probably could." 

Luffy continued his rummaging, slapping down his hand on the top of Zoro's head to lean further upward. 

"AHA!" Luffy yelled triumphantly. "Cayenne pepper- perfect! Okay, you can let me down now, Zoro." 

The door slammed open behind them. Zoro knew who was standing there without having to look. 

"Aw shit! Zoro, go! Onwards!" Luffy squawked, tapping his heels against Zoro’s chest like he was urging on a horse.

Zoro wasn't sure where he was expecting them to go, with their exit blocked by a Love-Cook so furious he was silent and seething, but Zoro was there to carry out his Captain's wishes. 

Zoro barged past the furious cook. When Luffy's head smacked into the doorframe and he suddenly found his Captain missing from his shoulders, he left to let him face Sanji's wrath alone. 

He was just following orders, anyway.

[takingcourage]

Color and Light

Characters: Thomas Mendez, MC (Allison), and MC’s daughter (Kira) 

Word Count: 2,400

Summary: With Luz away and Allison occupied for the morning, Thomas has a special strategy to pass the time with Kira. 

Note: I’ve been wanting to write a story about Thomas and MC’s daughter for ages. The lack of scenes between them is one of the very few complaints I have about MotY, so I thought I’d fill in a little bit of that gap with this fic. It was originally intended to fulfill a Choices August Challenge (kaleidoscope), but life got hectic in August and it this story was pushed to the back burner. All of that to say, the summer setting and inspiration for this story aren’t quite as random as they may seem. 

I hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading. : ) 

Crick. 

Crack. 

Thomas's stride broke as he became aware of the noise. Brow furrowing as he continued toward the kitchen, he mentally filtered through the possible causes: pipes, dishwasher, trash compactor... He was relatively certain that he hadn’t left anything running after making Allison’s coffee a half hour before. Whatever was happening in the kitchen must be taking place without his influence. 

Bracing himself, he rounded the corner. 

Though the room had no windows, the morning light still made its way into the space, relieving his fears before he'd even had a chance to flip the switch back on. 

Nothing.

There was no burst pipe, no invading animal waiting to jump out at him from the countertops, nothing at all out of the ordinary.

It was the ice maker, he realized in relief.

Thomas couldn’t recall the last time the house had been quiet enough for him to make out the background noises. With Luz around, there was always music or the television or the steady thud of soccer drills against the outside wall...With a quick shake of his head, he padded to the other end of the silent kitchen to brew a second carafe of coffee.

The air conditioner was working; he could hear the distinct hum from the upstairs unit keeping the house a pleasant 74 degrees. Soledad had chosen the best. Almost fifteen years in this house, and it had never needed more than routine maintenance to keep things perfectly cool. 

And yet, there was no mistaking the sheen breaking out on the back of his neck.

Stress had been mounting for the past twenty minutes -- ever since Allison had kissed him and slipped through the front door. Ordinarily, he'd be lacing his running shoes by now, determined to master the involuntary responses that his body was lapsing into. Today, he needed to work through it in another way.

Thomas glanced at the microwave clock, performing the calculations as he opened the refrigerator door to retrieve milk and a pair of eggs. Kira had gone to bed around 9:00 the night before. Based on the many nights she'd stayed over at the house since the start of summer, she’d wake up to join him any minute. Hot sweat returned with the confirmation.

This was hardly the first day he’d spent alone with a ten year old. It certainly wasn’t the only time he’d been with Kira without Allison there. But it was the first morning he’d spent without Luz serving as a buffer. Somehow, ten years of experience with one child hadn’t left him feeling prepared to take on the other. 

He was a lawyer and a recovering workaholic, for goodness sake -- hardly the sort of person a preteen girl wanted to spend the day with. 

Lowering the lid on the waffle maker, his eyes glazed over as the steam rose from between the metal plates. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, finally glancing away when the indicator light flickered on.

A creak sounded from the bottom of the stairs, and his heart flew into his throat. He cast a quick glance around the room before peering across the counter to the house’s other occupant. 

“Morning, Kira,” he greeted, voice sounding mostly normal. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Fine. That bunk bed is really comfortable."

“Great!” His response was a little too hasty. Pulling himself back, he topped off his mug of coffee, blew, and watched the wave ripple over the glassy surface. “I took a gamble and made some waffles for breakfast. Does that sound okay to you?”

Kira looked at the metal contraption with a curious half-smile. “It sounds delicious!”

“With orange juice?”

“Mmhmm, thank you,” she confirmed, already climbing onto a barstool. “Did my mom leave for class?”

Thomas snagged a plate from the overhead cabinet and used a pair of tongs to extract a perfectly golden-brown waffle from the mold. “She headed out about half an hour ago,” he answered before sliding her breakfast across the countertop.

Kira’s face puckered with disappointment. “She doesn’t usually leave so early; I thought I’d be up in time to see her.”

“She had to run an errand on the way," he explained. "Do you need to talk to her? You can borrow my phone if you want.”

Food forgotten, she set the syrup upright, its contents slowly oozing back down toward the bottom of the bottle. “That would be great! I wanted to wish her luck on her test.”

Passing her the device, he turned to give her some privacy. By the time he’d rinsed the mixing bowl and unplugged the waffle maker, Kira had composed the message. 

“Keep in in case she texts back,” he suggested, reaching for his coffee again.

“Thanks.” She went back to pouring syrup, alternating squares in the waffle until she’d achieved a checkerboard effect.

Concealing his raised brow, Thomas took another sip of his drink. The two girls could not be more different. With Luz, it was always a challenge to keep her from using half the bottle. Kira’s measured approach was far less troubling by comparison. If the girls already fought like real sisters, they complemented one another perfectly as well. He’d lost track of the number of times that one girl’s vice had been counteracted by the other’s virtue. 

Yet another sign that this is meant to be. 

The phone screen came to life before their eyes, and Kira tapped to view her mother’s message. “She got it in time.” With a grin, she handed it back to Thomas. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Based on the angle, there was no way for him to take it without casting an eye over the messages.

Good luck, mom! You’ve got this!⚡️

Thanks! Love you, kiddo. ⚡️

Something within him melted on reading the exchange, though the sensation was quickly replaced by something far less pleasant: fear.

Allison knew Kira so well. It was one of the things that had stood out to them when they’d first met, and it had only become more abundantly clear in the months that had followed. And while Guy didn’t take much of an interest in his daughter’s life, Kira still seemed to thrive on the time they spent together. In short, she already had two parents. Where did that leave him?

Sighing as he slide the phone back into his pocket, he walked around to the other side of the kitchen so he could join her at the counter.

“Thanks for making breakfast,” she acknowledged as he sat down. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to. It’s not often that the two of us get to have time together.”

Kira met his eyes with an amused smile. "True, but Luz is going to be jealous when she finds out we had waffles.”

“We’ll make them again when she gets back,” he promised, feeling the anxiety stir his stomach again. Breakfast was easy. If the rest of the morning ran as smoothly, it would be a miracle.

Kira cut another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "You're really good at it. The machine my mom has always burns the middles. Yours are better,” she whispered, green eyes narrowing with the conspiratorial whisper.

“Maybe we should buy her a new machine one of these days.”

Swallowing her bite, Kira regarded him with a creased brow. “But she can just use yours -- we’re over all the time! And it would be silly to buy another one when you’re just going to get married.”

Thomas could only hope that the girl wasn't perceptive enough to notice the way his cheeks darkened at the suggestion. He forced a sip of coffee down and tried to counteract his mortification. “What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Luz told me she found a ri--” her face froze. “Nevermind. I don’t know anything. Forget I said that.”

Sensing an opportunity, Thomas pressed her further. “Do you want us to get married?”

"Yeah." The corner of her mouth lifted as her eyes crinkled. “Mom’s really happy when she’s with you, and Luz and I would get to be sisters for real! It would be perfect.”

He smiled in agreement before deciding it would be prudent to change the subject. “How should we spend the rest of our morning?” 

Inadvertently, the question came just as she’d placed another forkful of waffle into her mouth. Thomas offered a repentant chuckle as she worked over the bite of food, though she didn’t seem to hold it against him.

“I brought a book,” she informed him after swallowing. “I can be super quiet while you’re working. Oh! Or do you have a case I can help with? I could read tracking numbers to you again if you want.”

“Actually,” he began, growing almost shy with the suggestion, “I was hoping you might be up for a science project today -- whatever you like.” He set his near-empty cup on the marble surface, hoping he hadn’t misstepped.  

“Really?” Her eyes flashed to life again, scrunching up at the corners in exactly the same way Allison’s did when she was passionate about something. Even if he’d never met her mother, the girl’s expression would have been impossible to resist. 

“Really. It would be fun to make something we can show your mom when she gets back this afternoon.”

“And Luz, when she gets back from soccer camp!”

“And Luz,” he added with a grin. He wondered vaguely if the two girls would be so eager to see each other once they were living under the same roof all of the time. “I’ll let you decide on a project while I clean up from breakfast. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

“Okay!” she took a pensive bite while he walked back around to the kitchen. “You’re sure it can be anything?”

“Uhhh,” he wavered, remembering too well the sorts of things that ten-year-old girls were capable of when there were no boundaries. It’s Kira, he had to remind himself. At worst, we’re looking at a bunsen-burner fire or some kind of mild chemical reaction. “Anything,” he confirmed after a pause. 

“Okay, I figured it out,” she announced moments later as he was wiping down the countertops.

“And...?”

“I wanna make a kaleidoscope!”

“Sounds perfect, though I think we’ll need to go on a supply run. Can you make a list?”

She held out one hand to begin ticking items on her fingers. “Well, I’ve already got confetti for the bottom. Faye gave me a bunch from one of her promo boxes and told me to use it for something cool. If we can run by our apartment, I know exactly where it is. After that, we’ll need some PVC pipe, mirrors, a glass cutter, a petri dish....” Still bending her fingers, she paused for further consideration. 

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?” 

“I’ve wanted to make one for forever!” Catching herself, she backpedaled a bit. “If you’re sure it’s okay...”

“I have one condition...” Squeezing the excess water from the towel, he draped it over the faucet to dry. Kira’s eyes were glued to him when he turned, her brows slanted with something approaching consternation. “You have to explain what you’re doing each step of the way so I know how it works.”

Her mouth fell open for a beat before snapping shut again. “Sure!”

This time, the smile that came to Thomas’s face was a little more confident. So far, so good.  

_____

For the next several hours, all worries were in vain. There were no awkward silences or stumbling uncertainties. Each minute was consumed with questions and explanations, safety tutorials for cutting glass, excited strategizing, and careful construction. They’d just started clearing up their lunch dishes when Allison’s key clicked in the lock. 

“Mom!” Kira rushed to finish loading her plate in the dishwasher. “How was your test?” Her whole face was lifted in anticipation. 

“I passed with a 96%.”

“You’re so smart, mom!”

Retrieving the elastic band from her wrist, Allison swept her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. “And you’re so sweet. Thanks for the energy zap this morning.”

“Welcome! Do you wanna see what Thomas and I made?”

At Allison’s eager nod, Kira led her to the den. Thomas stayed behind until the rest of the dishes were in the machine, content to hear their lively chatter a couple of rooms away. 

When he joined them, Allison was waiting by the arched doorway. “Kira’s never going to forget this. I can’t thank you enough.”

"The pleasure was mine. And I have to admit, it was a very educational day for me. I didn’t realize how rusty I’d gotten in geometry and physics.”

“She’ll keep your mind sharp, that one.”

“One of the many perks to having the two of you around.”

“Ooh! Look at this!” Kira called out in the closest thing to a shriek that he’d ever heard from her. “The pattern is sooo cool. It looks like a gamma-ray burst!”

Taking the proffered object, he held it to his eye and squinted until he had a proper view. Between the mirrors and the lights, Faye’s bits of paper had taken on new life in a pattern that was at once both uniform and wild. And though he had only the faintest idea what a gamma-ray burst looked like, satisfaction took hold of him as he gazed through the tiny opening.

Since her birth, Luz had been his light. She’d carried him through on the days when he hadn’t even been certain he wanted to go on. For a time, that light had been all he’d needed. But Allison and Kira had brought more to the equation: a beauty, a vibrance, a curiosity and passion for life that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. Together, the three of them made for a fuller world than he had ever thought possible. 

“Did you know they’re the brightest explosions in the universe?”

“I didn’t,” he whispered, careful not to shift the design as he passed the cylinder back to Kira. 

Thomas settled next to Allison, her shoulder a comfortable weight against his while they listened to the enthusiastic science lesson that followed. As her fingers sought his, Thomas’s thoughts drifted (ever so slightly) to the ring Luz had found a few days before. If all went the way he was hoping, his home -- and his life -- would never be colorless again. 

[aion-rsa]

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 22 Review: The Last Barfighter

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This The Simpsons review contains spoilers.

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 22

The Simpsons Season 32, episode 22, “The Last Barfighter,” is a perfect mix. It’s got secret societies, booze, and a big, old, ugly head. Since time immemorial, this unholy trinity has come through for the series. The Stonecutters cemented the dank and seedy underground of Springfield into the minds of the series’ fans. The Olmec relic of Xtapolapocetl proved even Mr. Burns could be gracious. And, of course, alcohol is the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.

“You’ll never believe what they laid on me tonight: Crappy marriages, crappy jobs,” Moe says as he sits on what we discover is his usual stool. Even bartenders need bartenders, and when Moe needs to unwind and throw back, he’s got a mixologist who’s got his back. Ian McShane’s Artemis is the bartender’s bartender, it is immediately apparent. Before Moe even pulls off his helmet and bellies up at the bar, we’d like him to pour us a drink.

Moe belongs to “something bigger than himself, and super weird,” another winning combination. He drinks at The Confidential, a secret club even speakeasy regulars couldn’t get in at the time. Members don’t have a special knock. There are no peep-holes. They need a special key. This is ancient. It is exclusive, historic, and they only serve the usual. They live by a sacred code, and this is the place where someone will “listen to the listeners.” It makes it sound so noble, you almost want to buy one of Moe’s pickled eggs.

But it’s a crystal skull which binds the story. Krusty cancels his show after his afternoon animal entertainment escapes in the studio, endangering dozens. This leaves the clown to drown his sorrows in tongue at the local deli, and Bart and Milhouse with useless tickets. They go into Pedro “Bumblebee Man” Chespirito’s Noches de Abejorro show, a Spanish-language almost-equivalent to Krusty’s show, and Bart keeps his cool long enough to win the coveted Calavera Gritando, or Screaming Skull.

The head is designed to look like a relic of the Day of the Dead, the 3,000-year-old Meso-American ritual honoring deceased loved ones. It is really a knockoff of George Clooney’s knockoff tequila Casamigos, which he “accidentally” founded. I always imagined while drunk on the tequila, which brings us to Carl. He’s an inventor, and a pretty good one, but he’s never filed a single patent. We are always getting fascinating tidbits about Carl and Lenny. Though it was even more revelatory to learn Barney got fired from the AutoZone for huffing floor mat cleaner.

Homer recognizes the skull immediately, at least enough to know it is filled with a tequila superior to all other mezcal. Homer has always wanted to drink something “fancy enough to come in a bottle that doesn’t look in a bottle.” But Bart won’t give it up, and Marge sides with her son. Bart says he’s going to “save it for high school,” which is encouragingly diabolical. He’s going to be just like his dad. You can almost hear “Cat’s in the Cradle,” it’s so touching.  But it sets off a classic comedy duel. Bart taunts Homer relentlessly, antagonizing him with the forbidden elixir, even dedicating the song “Tequila” to his beloved father during morning drive-time radio. The punchline lands so hard, it sets off the airbags on Homer’s car. Even Lisa pretends not to know her father, that’s how effective it is.

Thus is the curse of the Screaming Skull. Soon, even the Calavera Gritando is tormenting Homer. Urging him with taunts he is “too weak to drink me.” Homer finally cracks, he “may not speak Spanish but I know when a talking skull is talking to me.” We know we’re going to see a Raiders of the Lost Ark parody long before it happens, but it is happily surprising to see how Homer replaces the weight of the skull.

The sequence at Moe’s bar is funny and moving. Moe-centered stories are usually among the best of the secondary character pieces in the series. He has such depth, Lisa once dubbed him a poet. He certainly is a tortured soul. Even the glasses he breaks out to drink from the skull are Iranian hostage commemoratives. When he comes to the other side of the bar and says “So this is sitting,” it condenses a lifetime of upright crouches. When we hear the barflies tell Moe “You’re not our bartender, you’re our friend,” we are touched. When we hear the skull declare “You fool, you’ve ruined a man’s life, and now begins his slow descent into hell,” we’re relieved. Because, from this moment, the entire episode builds a palpable sense of suspense.

We come back when Moe is remembering what happened 12 hours earlier. A time when he was just one of the drunks on the street, instead of putting them there. The sequence of the revelries includes amusing diversions like getting a group photo-booth picture with the skull, and a team teeth-whitening session, including one for the skull. But then things get ugly, and when things get ugly with Moe, that can go pug ugly, fugly, or pug fugly, which is where it goes tonight. He dishes so much dirt, even his crotch rag wants a raise, and it earns its pay tonight. Moe lets loose from the Lovejoys’ sexless marriage to Lenny’s wet spaghetti arms. And just who is the mayor of Greenfield? It’s funny because it’s true, but there’s nothing less funny than an honest drunk.

Moe makes a very astute observation. He is wasted. His bartending friends are drunks. The secret club sends an even more astute signal. Moe has to follow a rat named Kristoff to answer for his broken vows of silence. But the punishment of the society is worse than the curse of the skull. Not only is Moe cast out, but his regulars are cut off. And when a secret society of bartenders calls last round, it’s a serious matter. There’s cranium-splitting headaches, firehouse sweating, and hurricane vomiting involved, they don’t even show the last one, but the reaction shots and sounds are hilariously horrifying. If the bartender sticks you with a needle, you never touch alcohol again. Oktoberfest becomes sober fest.

The peril is real. There is true commitment to the premise and how frightening the prospect is. Springfield’s bartenders become a roving mob, whether from the League of Extra Horny Gentlemen or the Lesbian Rye Curious bar. Moe’s taverners are hunted like dinosaurs. Given the choice between a life without alcohol and one on the run, Carl and Lenny choose flight, a hazardous decision, with sobering consequences. Homer gets it from Dr. Hubbard, who bartended his way through medical school. It is all too horrible to witness. It’s enough to drive you to drink.

Even though it appears life without drink works out good for the quartet – Lenny gets ripped, Carl heads a body-hair-shaving mini-robot startup company, Barney holds the big arrow at the AutoZone, and Homer’s such a good dad even Maggie’s happy – it feels like something out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Moe is at his lowest, even for Moe, making omelets on demand in a well-lit, non-dank mall shop. He doesn’t even have a shotgun behind the oven. It’s such a sad spectacle, we’re rooting for a break on the wagon train.

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The episode ends on a cliffhanger, but we all know how it will turn out. Just like we know how even the water at Moe’s bar is watered down. “The Last Barfighter” is a fun, action-packed, and twisted installment. Secret societies, booze, a big old ugly head, and a Simson on the run. It’s a grand slam best watched on a wall at a dive bar. It leaves us with a subversively comic paradox. Will Homer upset the balance of the nature of Springfield if he doesn’t get re-boozed? It is a beautiful ambiguity, but this is last call for the season. If The Simpsons season 24 opens with Homer doing Smithers’ job or its equivalent, even for one segment, it will be more satisfying than learning Maggie shot Mr. Burns.

The post The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 22 Review: The Last Barfighter appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[blackswaneuroparedux]

James Bond and the Vesper Martini

“I can’t drink the health of your new frock without knowing your Christian name.”

“Vesper,” she said. Vesper Lynd....”

“I think it’s a fine name,” said Bond. An idea struck him. “Can I borrow it?” He explained about the special drink he had invented and his search for a name for it."The Vesper,” he said. “It sounds perfect and it’s very appropriate to the violet hour when my cocktail will now be drunk all over the world. Can I have it?”

“So long as I can try one first,” she promised. “It sounds a drink to be proud of.”

- Casino Royale by Ian Fleming (1953)

In 1952, British writer and former spy, Ian Fleming, penned what would become the first in a series of novels featuring a British secret agent named James Bond. In Casino Royale, published in 1953, Bond meets his American counterpart Felix Leiter for drinks and orders a very unusual martini. Bond’s instructions to the waiter are detailed and specific.

“A dry martini,” Bond said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.” “Oui, monsieur.” “Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet.  Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?” “Certainly, monsieur.” The barman seemed pleased with the idea.

Bond initially tells Leiter the martini has no name, but later in the book Bond invites a beautiful Russian double-agent named Vesper Lynd to dinner and again orders his favorite cocktail. Increasingly smitten with the Russian beauty, Bond decides to name his unique martini after her.

But can the drink essentially be reproduced today exactly as author Ian Fleming envisioned it at the time?

It’s remarkable that this drink has become so famous when you consider that for more than half of its lifetime it has been impossible to make it properly. The enigmatic ingredient that Bond calls for, Kina Lillet, is notoriously hard to get hold of.

A French wine-based aperitif that first appeared in 1887, Kina Lillet became immensely popular, particularly in American cocktail bars. Technically categorised as an aromatised wine, it’s made by fortifying a Bordeaux wine, Semillon, with liqueurs, then barrel-ageing. The number and flavour of the liqueurs is a closely guarded secret, the company only conceding that they use sweet and bitter oranges and lemon.

Unfortunately, the original 1887  recipe was reformulated in 1986 when the original quinine was removed to create a lighter drink, leaving fans of the Vesper bereft.

However, Cocchi Americano is considered a reasonable alternative.

But some simply replace Kina Lillet with Lillet Blanc, which works well, but others say it is not as good. The main difference between the two spirits is that the Kina Lillet contained quinine, a component which makes the liquid extremely bitter, therefore dramatically altering the taste of the cocktail.

Finding a bar in London that had Lillet Blanc used to be a problem, unlike in France. But over the years more and more bars in London started stocking it after the release of the 2006 Casino Royale movie.

It gets worse for Vesper Martini fans. The gin that Bond drank has changed. Indeed the proof of Gordon's Gin was cut in 1992. But thankfully there are alternatives out there.

To top it all off, the vodka also posed a problem for the Vesper Martini drinker. The recipe calls specifically for Russian vodka which in 1953 almost certainly meant Smirnoff. But the Smirnoff available in England today is mostly not made in Russia either - most of it's made in Scotland.

However it can be argued that a Vesper isn’t a martini at all, because a martini must be made with vermouth. Whilst aromatised wines and vermouth have much in common they are distinctly not the same. Further, reputable drink mixologists will argue that the martini should only be stirred and never shaken

Sorry, James.

Incredibly, Ian Fleming also admitted in a letter to the editor of The Guardian newspaper, published in 1958, that he, “proceeded to invent a cocktail for Bond (which I sampled several months later and found unpalatable)… The gimmickry grew like bindweed and now, while it still amuses me, has become an unfortunate trademark. I myself abhor wine and foodmanship.”

As is so common with authors, a story is often conceived off the back of a real-life experience of which the truth is of many shades.

It may well be Fleming told a little white lie that he actually invented the Vesper Martini. In actuality, the book version of the Vesper was created by Fleming's friend Ivar Bryce. They were childhoods before they went to Eton and both served in British intelligence during the war. They were bosum buddies for life. 

In Bryce's copy of Casino Royale Fleming inscribed "For Ivar, who mixed the first  Vesper and said the good word." 

In his book You Only Live Once, Bryce details that Fleming was first served a Vesper, a drink of a frozen rum concoction with fruit and herbs, at evening drinks by the butler of an elderly couple in Jamaica, the Duncans, the butler commenting, "'Vespers' are served."  Vespers or evensong is the sixth of the seven canonical hours of the divine office and are observed at sunset, the 'violet hour', Bond's later chosen hour of fame for his martini Vesper

Whoever actually invented the Vesper Martini we do know Fleming was inspired by a real life Vesper.

Fleming’s background was in British naval intelligence, and it was during his time as part of World War II that he was introduced to Krystyna Skarbek, or Christine Granville. Christine was a Polish who worked as a British secret agent for Special Operations Executive (SOE). 

She became celebrated especially for her daring exploits in intelligence and irregular-warfare missions in Nazi-occupied Poland and France. She was awarded the OBE, George Medal and the Croix de Guerre for her outstanding services.

The beautiful Christine had many alias’, one of which was Vésperale. It is thought that Fleming may have had a brief love affair with this agent, but even if he did not, it seems likely that she was the muse for the very first Bond girl and subsequent potent cocktail.

Casino Royale is in fact the only time Ian Fleming has James Bond order a Vesper; in the other books he drinks regular vodka and gin martinis. But 007 gave the recipe with such inedible conviction, that it’s become an enduring part of popular culture.

As Bond famously noted, this cocktail is to be very well shaken until ice cold. It’s generally accepted nowadays that this was foolish from a mixologist’s perspective. Shaken drinks tend to be those that include juice, egg whites, or cream; cocktails with those ingredients need to be very well incorporated, and even a little frothy.

Cocktails that include purely alcoholic ingredients should rather be stirred in a glass of ice then strained out into your glass, as shaking will make the drink cloudy and can excessively water it down, as the shaking melts the ice.

Perhaps Bond thought that shaking would chill the cocktail quicker (he does prefer his pre-dinner drinks “very cold,” after all), and actually liked it a bit watered down, given how strong it is.

We’ll never know, but since 007 insisted on shaking, that’s what we’re going to do too in the following recipe that I do for friends and guests. 

Peel a wide strip of lemon zest. I rub it all around the glass edge first. Then I put it in the glass. When you pour the drink, this allows the essence of the peel to be more evenly incorporated throughout the drink rather than just plopping it in at the end.

Fill your shaker with ice.

Add all liquid ingredients to the shaker. Rather than making the uber-boozy drink that Bond requested, I did half measures. Since the recipe is listed in parts rather than specific measurements, it’s easily scalable. The cocktail is still plenty strong, don’t worry. Of course, if you’re feeling plucky, feel free to go with Bond’s full measures.

1.5 oz Gin. Go with Gordon’s Gin or Beefeater’s Gin.

.5 oz vodka (again, preferably a grain vodka) I use Beluga vodka, a very fine quality vodka still distilled and bottled in Russia.

.25 oz Lillet Blanc  or Cocchi Aperitivo Americano.

Shake it up! Hold the shaker in both hands and vigorously shake the cocktail for a slow count to 10, or until the outside of the shaker gets cold and frosty.

Pour into your champagne or cocktail glass. Interestingly, Bond requests a champagne goblet as his vessel rather than a standard cocktail glass with a stem and wide triangular bowl. It’s up to you champagne goblet or cocktail glass.

Enjoy!