#shes the type to boil eggs and drink the water but not eat the egg

[caelstyx]

Talía is the main character of my up-coming short comic. Won't say too much about her just yet hehe.

[sleepy-bunbun-ace]

ridoace week day 4

guest room / domestic

i knew exactly which unreleased au that's sitting in my drafts my alt to use and decided to write it out instead of drawing it this time. we'll be going back to regularly scheduled art on day 5.

--

"roooosssssiiiiieeeeeeee," ace whined. she stretched herself out on the bed as riddle continued to work at her desk. she'd been there for the past three hours now, only taking a break to either stretch or drink some water. it was starting to worry her, in all honesty.

"i'm almost done, cherry, just a little bit more." riddle continued to work on, pausing to yawn before continuing. ace could only frown before looking up at the ceiling. 'maybe i can make her something to eat? yeah, she'd like that.'

ace stood up before walking out of her rose's room before making her way down the heartslabyul stairs. it was only the two of them in the dorm currently, everyone else still recovering from the sleep malleus put them in. the ramshackle trio sometimes popped in to check in on them but for the most part it was just her and her queen. her absolutely adorable, beloved, shining queen.

before she knew it, she arrived in the kitchen. now, what could she make?

there wasn't a lot she actually knew how to cook. she usually just asked trey or deuce to make her something to eat. oh what was she thinking? trying to make something for her queen to eat as if she knew how to cook?

no. no bad thoughts right now. ed would give her more homework if he knew what she was thinking right now. but...

she looked down at what remained of her right arm. the empty automail port sat near her elbow and shined in the kitchen's lights. she thought about riddle, still working on the repairs for her automail without taking a break. it was decided, she'd make something for riddle.

thankfully there's one thing she knew how to prepare and present well. ace took out a pot from one of the cabinets and placed it on the stove. she took out a measuring cup and filled it with water before carefully pouring it into the pot and turning on the stove. she had time until the water started boiling to prepare the rest.

pre-chopped vegetables (courtesy of trey), an already boiled egg (ace mentally thanked her past self for going to the convenience store), and some seaweed were all grabbed from their respective locations. oh! the ramen! she quickly grabbed it from the cabinet and opened the packaging with her teeth. the water had just started to boil when she dumped the noodles into the water. now to wait.

--

riddle stood up from her desk, finally done with the repairs. she looked down at the repaired arm for her knight. her beautiful, brave, wonderful knight. miss rockbell was a wonderful teacher and ed did a good job at making sure she knew how to repair this certain type of model seeing as it was his own creation.

"that should be it, cherry. now, shall we-" riddle cut herself off. ace wasn't in the room anymore. 'how strange, i thought she had fallen asleep on the bed by now.' she scanned the room in case she missed her cherry, but no, she wasn't in the room. how strange. perhaps she went out for a walk?

she grabbed the automail, carefully to make sure she didn't let it fall, and walked out of her room. there was only one place she could think of where ace could be.

she walked down the stairs and headed straight into the kitchen.

"wait, how am i supposed to bring this upstairs?"

"bring what upstairs?"

"rosie!" ace ran over to her and brought her in for a hug. "careful! i just finished the repairs for your arm!"

her knight carefully let her go before inspecting the automail in her hands. ace gave her a bright smile before kissing her on the top of her head. she couldn't help the warmth that crept up her face, this was still new to her. to think that only a month ago...

"wait, what were you doing in here? i thought you would have fallen asleep by now?"

"weeeeellllll, i kinda made you something as a little thanks! you've been doing a lot lately and i wanted to thank you for everything. soooo i made you some food!" ace stepped away to reveal the food she prepared. it was some type of soup with vegetables, a boiled egg, and some seaweed in it.

ace must have noticed her confused expression. "i made you one of the ramen packets we have. thankfully trey still had some vegetables pre-prepped and i went out to the convenience store in the town earlier this week so i was able to spice it up a bit for you. here, have a seat, you deserved this rose."

it was the best meal she had in her life. never had she tasted something so good. she let her head rest against her cherry's shoulder. this was... absolutely perfect. there was no doubt about it. she wouldn't mind feeling like this for the rest of her life, completely contempt with it. ace wrapped her arm around her shoulder and brought her close.

she'd have to reattach the automail soon but for now, she was enjoying her life. is this what noah meant?

maybe not everything was perfect at the moment. maybe everything would never be perfect. but right now? this was the most perfect she felt, tucked into her knight's side and feeling her warmth.

there was still a long way to go but it was fine. she was her knight's queen, and she'd make sure that her kingdom, her world, would be fine one day.

--

note: if i could draw this scene, the girlfriends would be looking more like their canon selves but with slightly longer hair and ace's automail port. they don't really start to socially transition until a month before this takes place, which is coincidentally when they started dating.

[captain-of-silvenar]

Asked my guild for a topic to write about today and got the very exciting topic of Kerasil’s favorite types of foods!

As a strict Green Pact bosmer, you would think she would have a very limited selection of food and you would be wrong.

Breakfast:

A cup of milk in the morning isn’t a bad way to start the day, nor is some boiled eggs with some honey glazed bacon.

Something that will kick start her day, which is more likely than not full of paperwork and organizing patrols when she’s home in Silvenar.

Lunch:

A good ol’ grilled meat strips over the fire is a quick enough meal to get at any location.

But if we’re talking about favorites, Kersail will never turn down a freshly cooked fish. She is lucky to live relatively close to several bodies of water, so choices of fish are abundant.

Pan fried Z’en’s Whitefish with butter and lemon ants is a top favorite and there is never a day she will pass this up.

Dinner:

Lets face it.  This is the good stuff here. Steaks as far as the eye can see. All the Bosmeri drinks one could possibly drink.

From whole pigs, to delicately fried thunderbugs, to the juiciest mammoth steak this side of Tamriel you cannot go wrong here.

But Kerasil is a sucker for home, and home is when Melar makes some timber mammoth pulled stew. Rich and hearty, slow cooked for a whole day to get that fall apart meat ready. She could eat a whole pot of this by herself, but always leaves enough for Melar to get his fair share. A small payment for all he does for her in cooking and taking care of the house, the least she can do is let him taste his own cooking.

Dessert:

Kerasil doesn’t really have the time to enjoy desserts as much as she ought to, which means when she does it has to be something special.

Roasted Bone marrow is a delicious treat if she’s feeling decedent.

Hard Honey Candy a childhood treat, or just the whole damn honeycomb.

Fried cheese balls for when she wants to show off she can catch them in the air every single time, no really trust her!

[playfulminxallornothin]

Introduction

Hey everyone,

I've decided to do a post after all. I've been following some really great blogs but I can't comment on any of them! Does anyone know the fix for this?

Here is my story:

I'm on a major weight loss journey. (That isn't me in the pic, but that's how small I'd like to get!)

I have been trying to lose weight for years, but as soon as I begin to restrict myself I find that the temptation to binge is overwhelming - and I've come to finally admit that yeah, I have a problem.

I've never been really small, other than in my pre-teens when I had a growth spurt and my family couldn't really afford food so I got frozen plain white bread sandwiches with one piece of baloney every single day for lunch and I got so sick of them I stopped eating my lunches.

I can't remember how I got from skinny mini to 160.. but I remember as an adult after high school weighing at about that before my aunt's wedding. I felt SO FAT. .... and then in 2014 I was about 180. Fast forward, over the last couple years I've been around 220-230. When I stepped on the scale in December 2023 I hit 237. Gross.

I didn't want to look at myself or take any pictures or be social.

So I decided to do something about it. Starting January I started fasting. I got down to 225 by the end of January. I didn't fast the whole time. I did 12 days solid of fasting, with no food, only water and some herbal tea. I put a pinch of either himalayan salt or celtic sea salt into the water every time I filled my bottle, and sometimes a small squeeze from a lime to ensure my body had enough electrolytes and minerals so I didn't get too weak. It was pretty easy until day 12 and I hadn't had a bowel movement in so long I felt toxic, so I decided to eat one boiled egg and some vegetables.. BAD IDEA. ... raw veggies are too harsh on your body after a fast because your digestive system goes to sleep. I was in sooo much pain.

The rest of January my fasting kind of went out the window. I had days that I ate pretty healthy and days that I didn't...

The first half of February was also hit and miss but the last half I got self disciplined and started another water fast.

Anyway, it is now the end of February and I got down to 205.

My goal is to continue this fast till about March 19th. At that point, I need to start drinking some bone broth and juice and slowly refeeding with gentle foods, because I will be starting my period, and if you fast during day 1-10, it elevates your cortisol levels too high and your progesterone plummets, and you may not get your period.

(She explains it better here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWb8BOkPiPU)

I wanted to go to the end of March to do a full 40 days but I'm ok with starting to re-feed during my period, but then I'll go back on water the last 3 days of March. My goal for the end of march is 180-185.

Following that, I want to lose 3 lbs a week for the next 15 weeks, then take the rest of the summer off and just maintain... (this should have me levelling out at about 146).

I don't want to be super skinny, we will see how I feel about my body when I get to 146, which is a healthy weight for my height and body type. I like the idea of 130 but it would be pushing it to get there by summer, so I can spend the following year eating healthy and working out and slowly shedding pounds.

[lifespring123]

LifeSpring: The Best Maternity Hospital | Hyderabad

Tips on eating habits and foods to avoid for pregnant women:

Sharks, swordfish, tuna, and marlin are examples of high-mercury fish.

Raw fish and shellfish may be contaminated with bacteria and parasites, which can be harmful.

Bacteria may be present in raw or undercooked meat. Always adequately cook the meat.

Raw eggs may be contaminated with Salmonella and represent a risk. Before consuming eggs, make sure they are thoroughly cooked.

Limit your meat consumption to a few ounces once a week. Organ meat is high in iron, vitamin B12, vitamin A, and copper. Limit your consumption of organ

Limit your caffeine intake to less than 200 mg per day. Uncontrolled caffeine usage during pregnancy may have an effect on the baby's growth and result in a low birth weight.

Fruits and vegetables may be contaminated with pathogenic germs such as Toxoplasma. Always carefully wash them with clean water.

Consume only pasteurised milk, cheese, and fruit juice to avoid bacterial illnesses.

Avoid all types of alcohol. Alcohol consumption may increase the risk of miscarriage, stillbirth, and foetal alcohol syndrome.

Processed foods can raise the risk of obesity, gestational diabetes, and other problems during pregnancy. This could have long-term health consequences for the mother and the child

Safe foods in pregnancy: during pregnancy, it’s safe to eat

During pregnancy, it's safe to eat:

Grilled fish

sushi, but only if the fish has been completely cooked.

Peanuts and other nuts (if you're allergic, avoid them)

Cooked shellfish and seafood, such as mussels, lobster, crab, oysters, scallops, clams, and cold, pre-cooked shrimp

Honey can be consumed in small amounts.

There's no need to shun spicy foods

You can indulge in milk and dairy foods like:

All hard cheeses, such as Cheddar, Parmesan, or Gruyere

Pasteurized milk and yoghurt

Pasteurized semi-hard and soft cheeses, such as cheese spreads, ricotta, mozzarella, feta, paneer, cream cheese, halloumi, cottage cheese, or goat's cheese, without skim

Any cheese that has been completely cooked until it is boiling hot

Foods to Avoid While Pregnant

Caffeine

Caffeine is found naturally in chocolate, coffee, and tea (including green tea). It's also included in some:

Soft drinks

Energizing beverages

Cold and flu cures

Uncontrolled caffeine consumption during pregnancy can:

increase your chances of miscarriage.

Influence your baby's growth.

cause your kid to be undersized and underweight; this could lead to health issues later in life.

When your kid is born, he or she may begin to retreat from it. This aggravates them.

LifeSpring Maternity Hospital is one of the best gynecology hospitals in Hyderabad, with an excellent team of gynecologists providing comprehensive treatments.

"Book an appointment online with the best doctors at LifeSpring Maternity Hospital Hyderabad." For any queries, book an appointment today. Visit our website.

Location: h, 11-4-522/A, Chilkalguda, Railway Colony, Chilakalguda, Secunderabad, Telangana 500061, India

[oneandahalfwolf]

Ben laughed as the fox made a series of squeaks that sounded almost like it was giggling, almost stumbling as it batted their occasionally unsteady beanpole legs but managing to stay upright. They watched as the creature studied the menu, still amazed that this little beast seemed to be so much more than what it seemed – able to read and understand the English language as if human, so much intelligence in its golden eyes. When it pointed with its paws to its two desired items, the teen pursed their lips and met the fox’s gaze as it turned to them.

“You sure?” They snorted as the fox booped their jaw, its fur tickling their skin. “Okay, okay. You just wait here then. Don’t know if they allow pets. Or weird stray wild animals.”

They entered the restaurant and approached the counter, removing their sunglasses and hood as they grew nearer. Behind the register was a lovely Asian woman with hair styled in a way that made it look like horns. Ben gave her a polite smile and greeting, that she returned, before they ordered for the fox and themself. The woman typed it all into the register and gave them the total which they paid without complaint, placing the change and an extra twenty in the nearby tip jar. They weren’t sure but they thought that brought a surprised look and small smile to the cashier’s face. The teen didn’t bring attention to it, simply moving to the collection area.

The woman gave their order to the kitchen and Ben watched as the chefs began to cook it. The pair in the back were fast, moving together like they were dancing in perfect synchronisation. The teen wasn’t sure if it was just the steam or they were hallucinating again, but at one point it definitely looked like one of the men was blowing smoke out of his nose – almost like a dragon. The restaurant name was on brand then, or maybe their imagination was running with that imagery.

After what felt like no time at all their food was ready. Ben approached the counter, mouth watering a little at the delicious smell, and lifted the bag containing their meals with their good hand. They gave their thanks to the hostess, the woman giving them a nod and a wave goodbye, before they turned and left. As they reached the entryway they looked down at the fox with a smile, putting their sunglasses back on and pulling their hood up once more.

“Come on, let’s go find a place to eat.”

Ben started back down the street towards their original destination, arriving at the park pretty quickly. Perhaps their rumbling stomach had made their feet move faster. They scanned the area and found a nice spot under a large willow tree. The curved branches would provide shade from the high noon sun, as well as shielding them from any CCTV cameras that might be pointed in that direction whilst they ate. They led the way over, pulling the branches aside for the fox before letting the curtain fall back into place. The black haired teen dropped their duffel bag and backpack down before taking a seat against the trunk of the tree. They exhaled and relaxed their shoulders as they removed and pocketed their sunglasses so they could see better, reaching to untie the bag from the restaurant.

They lifted out the fox’s first, opening the container and placing the side that contained the gyozas on the grass. Using a napkin, they wiped the condensation from the other side before they placed it next to the other one and poured the water into it, so the creature had a makeshift bowl to drink brow. It might have been able to use its paws to eat a burger, but they figured a bottle would be a little trickier.

“One gyoza and a water.”

With the fox set up they reached for their own, lifting the larger container and cutlery out of the bag. They’d ordered a large mixed meat ramen bowl. It had noodles and broth of course, but also had a selection of chicken and beef and pork, and was topped with a hard boiled egg and green onions. They figured even if they didn’t eat it all (which they definitely wouldn’t), it would keep and be their dinner for that night – and likely their lunch for the next day too. Steam wafted off the dish as they popped off the lid, the smell intoxicating. They hadn’t had something this rich in a while, sticking to snacks and fast food lately. Eating like this still felt so off and so wrong, but they were trying to get over that. Baby steps.

“Well,” they said to their furry friend as they separated their chopsticks and shifted the utensils into a proper hold, “Bon appétite.”

Orianna laughed and batted at the kid’s leg. She’d meant them specifically but she wouldn’t turn down a free meal. Hopefully the high pitched squeaks that made up the laughing noises foxes made would make the kid laugh too.

She followed the kid in and sat as they crouched down. Looking over the menu, she noticed you could get ten pieces of gyoza as an entree. As a fox, she didn’t need to eat as much to be full. The gyoza would do her, and maybe some water.

Orianna pointed at the items gently, and then turned back to the kid. She gently booped their jaw with her nose to say please and thank you.

[love-takes-work]

Steven Universe Future: A Food Slideshow

Bixbite’s pizzas

Look at that ‘za, brah

Snow Cone Syrup

Snow Cones

Crystal Drinks

“Carrot Bean” Meal

Tomato Soup Prank

Clams, Peanut Butter, and a side of Fresh-Cut Grass

Bluebird’s Cake

Amethyst’s Eggs, Steven’s Protein Shake

Mooncakes

Off Colors’ Graduation Cake

Dirt

Spicy Chili for Vivid Dreams

Morning Cereal

Together Forever Cake

Cookie Cat Ice Cream

Cocoa

Ice Cream à la Pie

Wild-Caught Fish

Homemade Cookie Cats

FAQ:

1. Is it all homemade? Yes. Except I didn’t make my own ice cream from scratch and the boxed tomato soup, peanut butter, and easter grass are store-bought items.

2. Even _____? Yes, the pie, the pizza crust, the sugar syrups, the graduation cake and frosting, the CEREAL, they are homemade items.

3. Is that a real fish on a stick? No, it’s a fish-shaped banana bread.

4. Did you put the eggs on your face like Amethyst did in “Snow Day”? Of course I did, do you think I’m a filthy casual?

5. Why did you make those little cakes to represent the mooncakes we never saw from Lars’ bakery? Because mooncakes are a real thing and that’s what they look like.

6. Wait, you made a four-tier cake for a damn cartoon? (Also, what flavor is it?) Yes. All four tiers were chocolate from scratch, and there were also three types of homemade frosting, as well as all the Gems for the topper made by me out of fondant.

7. Dirt isn’t a food. That isn’t a question.

8. OK, why did you make dirt as if it is a food? Because Amethyst clearly considers it one as she was munching on dirt in “Prickly Pair.” Don’t worry, mine is kids’ party dirt cake made with pudding and crumbled cookies.

9. How did you make snow cone syrups? You can do it with boiled water, sugar, and Kool-Aid.

10. How did you make fruity cereal that looks like Froot Loops? Also with Kool-Aid, weirdly. It didn’t taste much like Froot Loops.

11. What flavor is the Together Forever cake? Strawberry swirl. Real strawberries were in the cake!

12. Those aren’t clams. That’s not a question either.

13. What are the “clams”? I don’t eat any seafood (or meat) so I made Bluebird’s platter a candy plate. Those are homemade white chocolate/banded chocolate with homemade vanilla cremes in the middle.

14. Why didn’t you make X? Chances are if you think there’s a food that’s missing from this Steven Universe Future food gallery, it was either something in the background that I consider scenery or a food that was repeated from the original show (so I didn’t make it again). Feel free to suggest if I missed something though.

15. I want to make X! What’s your recipe? They’ll all be posted on my blog soon enough. Look for my recipes menu.

[soliavenne]

Just Sand Sibling Things + Shinki: How do they deal with cooking?

Hi! I have been thinking of having Just Sand Sibling Things (+ Shinki now and then) as a series of works. :) I guess this is the first entry haha.

Hope you like it! <3

--

Excellent cook, obviously the most versatile out of the four. Appetizer, main entrée, snacks and dessert, you name it. Not very adventurous when it comes to recipes, but she’s well-rounded enough  with the basics to tweak an ingredient or a two from the book if she knows she’ll be able to improve the taste.

Knows that she’s great at what she does, and she’s damn proud of it.

Very confident, but can actually be secretly conscious of what she serves, especially when it’s her first time cooking the specific food. She would rather start over again than serve something that doesn’t suit her standards.

Tries her best to mind her own business while eating but is stealthily inspecting her brothers, or her husband and son’s facial expression as they eat her food.

Very organized, every ingredient is in each separate plates. Not the type to leave a pile of dirty plates on the sink and wash it all at once by the end of cooking. She will wash some of them now and then if she could leave the cooking process alone on itself.

Praise her damn food, praise her cooking skills. She might not look like it but she’s a big, big sucker for appreciation. If you have been generous for the past few days with compliments, she’ll try her best to free up her schedule and proceed to serve a damn feast over the table.

If ever she ends up serving something that doesn’t taste good, she would understand a very faint grimace or two on your face. But that’s all, don’t bother telling her about it if she doesn’t ask you about it. She knows what’s wrong already and she’s already beating up herself about it.

Mostly cooks foods that are on the healthier spectrum, but would flat out bake herself her own pizza and brownies at 12 AM.

Would try to hide her midnight snacks as much as possible, but if she gets caught, she would huff and act all annoyed but is secretly happy to share it. She just likes riling people up a bit, but she’s very sweet and generous.

What reads above cannot be applied if she’s on her period or she had a fight with Shikamaru, you better fuck off and leave her alone.

--

He’s not that much keen to cooking, but this man is not dumb. Knows at least the very, very basic fundamentals around the kitchen.

It’s those common mistakes that usually happens if someone’s just starting to venture out on cooking. A little too much salt, a little heavy on the pepper, the meat is tad bit raw while the crust is already burned. Those kind of technical mishaps. He would not be unbelievably awful at it.  

Tries his best to listen to Temari’s advices on cooking, but he ends up overthinking it. He’s best off learning on his own and figuring out for himself what went wrong.

Skilled at cooking instant foods and junk foods. Knows damn well how to elevate them. The type of food he ends up cooking are more on the indulgent side, mostly savory type of foods. Hamburgers, meat pizza, steak, and ribs, you name it.

Has been secretly saving up to buy his own pellet grill and personalize it.

Does not know exactly how to cook healthy-family based foods like vegetable stew or chicken soup or anything of the like. He either gets to eat it if Temari is cooking, or it’s a takeout.

Very messy cook. Spoons with unidentified sauces are everywhere, there’s even a plate on the living room that he’s not sure how it even got there.

Would probably wash it once a dirty pan had punched his face and Temari is screaming on the other end of the handle.

Don’t talk to him when he’s focusing, he’s going to get flustered about the whole thing.

Just as sensitive as Temari when it comes to feedback. He would laugh alongside a negative comment, but he won’t be cooking anything that isn’t instant food for the next whole week.

If you praise him so much he will end up being so worked up about it that he cooks the same thing tomorrow night. He would try so hard to hit the same note but he was overthinking it the whole time so it doesn’t end up as good.

A genuine praise could go such a long way for Kankuro. He might not look like it but he’s genuinely appreciative of it and finds it very encouraging.

--

Doesn’t necessarily hate cooking, but he just doesn’t know to pave his way around it.

Believes that cooking is a fundamental skill, but is still avoiding the opportunity to work on it. He had bought some cooking books and probably printed some recipes from Yahoo and allrecipes.com, but he’s secretly relieved whenever Kankuro asks if he wants something to eat from the store.

Very shy about asking for help, but if Temari or Kankuro does volunteer to teach him something, he would not refuse it.

Nearly passed out once because he has been letting his breakfast pass when Temari left for Konoha. Kankuro scolded him a bit, but ten minutes later they were already talking about sandwiches. When Gaara mentioned that he misses waking up to Temari cooking pancakes in their shared apartment, they surprisingly ended up having a genuinely-deep conversation about it; talking along the lines of how they really feel about their sister leaving Suna.

Kankuro told him that he’ll be letting him off easy but if he wants to be a much more effective Kazekage, he has to take care of himself. The epiphany had hit Gaara so hard he bought a new apron and a pan on his way home from work.

The first set of foods that he focused on was under the bracket of breakfast meals. A bowl of plain oatmeal and a little bit of sugar was okay, but it did get redundant and he swore to himself he’d throw the bowl out of the window if he had to make another one of it again for the 3rd week of that month.

Began to buy pancake box-mixes where all he had to worry about was adding eggs, water and oil. Once he had gotten the hang of it, he decided to follow a pancake recipe from scratch. He thinks it tastes better, but it wasn’t something he could do every day.

Thinks he had found his soulmate when he started making granola. He could prepare it in advance and stock it up. He finds it very convenient.

An understandable kind of messy, maybe a little smudge of batter on his cheek when he’s cooking pancakes. Dirty plates would be on a pile but he would arrange them by size and category before washing them all together after he ends up eating.

Takes cooking seriously that he even bought a hairnet. Kankuro caught him once wearing it and the ten-minute laugh he had out of watching his baby brother cook with a hairnet on just made Gaara opt to tie his hair instead.

Sometimes boils eggs at night in advance so that he could simply peel one in the morning for breakfast.  

All in all, he mostly cooks usual, literally off the recipe book breakfast meals. Most of them are healthy.

It would take a lot of time before you get him to serve you the food he made. He doesn’t like disappointing people and as stoic as he may be he would also be just as sensitive about it.

Began to develop the drive to cook better when he adopted Shinki. He remembers vividly how happy he was whenever Yashamaru brings him a bento, so he decides to take the effort to study bento making now and then whenever he’s not that busy.

When he saw a small, cute apron from the store, he found himself buying it to give to Shinki. He still hasn’t built up the courage to ask Shinki to have a cooking bonding with him though because he’s not that confident about his skills just yet.

--

A very responsible kid. Has the self-awareness that basics of cooking should be developed in order to survive independently no matter where you go. He even knows how to start fire from scratch.

The first thing he had ask Gaara regarding preparing food is how Gaara makes his coffee. Ever since he was able to replicate it, he sometimes even gets up earlier than his father so that he could prepare the warm beverage beforehand. He doesn’t drink coffee everyday, but with a craving now and then sometimes, he likes adding a splash of milk to it. He and Gaara both share the same preference when it comes to the level of sweetness.  

Not very adventurous when it comes to recipes. As long as it’s filling and easy to make, that will be his chosen route.

Has asked Gaara once about his special pancake mix, and he had been making it mostly everyday. The fluffy texture of it soon got a little tiring, so he started wondering what else he could eat for breakfast. Despite being very mature for his age, he’s still a kid who has the hint of wonder for foods that are still comfortable yet a little exciting now and then.

When Yodo took him and Araya once to a waffle stand on their way home from a mission, he started buying one almost everyday. He’s more of a savory-waffle kind of kid.

Gaara takes notice of this, and when Shinki woke up to a wafflemaker and printed waffle recipes on the kitchen counter one morning, he couldn’t help a very, very rare and genuine smile on his face.

He might not that be that much inclined to cooking, but on days where he’s not busy, he tries to read about it. His main drive about cooking is so that his father comes home to a much more healthier meal instead of having takeouts almost every night. He loves and respect his father that much, and he’s also health and fitness-conscious since he really does take his job as a shinobi very seriously.

The same as Temari in terms of cooking. Neatly organized, no dirty plates lying around the counter. Every ingredient is measured and calculated.

His face might not be anywhere near grinning but he’s actually happy whenever he dons the apron that Gaara bought him.

Doesn’t really care if you don’t like the food unless you’re his dad.

 --

[root-admins]

SINoALICE x NieR Replicant - Weapon Stories

A complete compilation of all weapon stories from SINoALICE’s NieR Replicant collab... well, the ones that has lore to do with NieR anyways.

Whatever grammar mistakes/translation errors belongs to Pokelabo, and you will tell there are some. Most are stories are pretty self-explanatory tho.

Grimoire Weiss

We fought for what seemed like ages. To kill those things that took a twisted human form. To protect those precious to me, with my own hands. We were deceived for so long. Deceived by people in a land we've never been, whose faces we've never seen Issuing orders from a safe distance. We must have been in love. And despite the fact I couldn't save you, but I never got to thank you for saving me. These fragments glimmering deep in my depths... they seem to be the vague memories of people... the faded remnants of human wisdom... H-hold on! I’ll have you know my name is not “Booky Wooky!” You may call me "Grimoire Weiss" I am a great compendium of ancient wisdom. Treat me with respect!

Grimoire Noir

My name is the Black Book. Are you the king who will lead the world to salvation? Don't be so surprised, Your Majesty. For me, it is a simple matter to speak human words. I sympathize with your distress, Your Majesty. On this occasion, however, we have no choice but to let them deal with your sister. When sorrow overtakes you, you may come to me and speak of your tribulations. Reading is an admirable pursuit. Your Majesty--for me?? I shall peruse this volume if it comes on your recommendation... What is that? You think it odd for a book to read a book? Noir? I would prefer to dispense with this nickname. My name, Your Majesty, is the Black Book. I am a grand tome of human wisdom... thus, to refer to me by such a curious moniker is, dare I say, inappropriate.

Kaine’s Sword

She was slender, with smooth, white skin. The hint of a dark shadow in her expression highlighted her beautiful features. But something about the sword in her hand didn't seem to fit the picture. Anger, sorrow, hatred. When emotions overwhelmed her, she would swing the sword, so there was never a lack of blood to quench its thirst. The problem was that she couldn't put the sword down. A heart and body in constant conflict. No one in the world could understand her. And loneliness was eating her alive. The long war came to an end, and darkness devoured her. But her heart remained at peace. Because she faced fate in the arms of the one she loved.

Halua Head

File_25_10: Update Soon twins will be arriving. There is nothing at all in the white-walled, prison-like room except for a white bed. If only there were something to do in there... File_25_12: Update I went to look in on them, and the girl was kindly encouraging her anxious younger brother. The two of them had heavy expectations to fulfill. The weight of all humanity's hope bore down upon them. File_26_06: Update The day of the experiment, the girl passed me a letter. To the very end, she wanted someone to watch over her brother. Once I agreed, she quickly ran away. Report: Human Weapon Development Things seem to be progressing as expected with Experimental Subject A (Sister), but her condition has changed drastically. In her present state, she seems to have no sense of self. I am urgently beginning work on Experimental Subject B (Brother).

Devola & Popola’s Staff

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks for that soup recipe! My mom loved it!  －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ A note received from a child in the village. Does this mean they are developing a sense of self? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks to the medicine you gave me, I'm feeling a lot better, though I can't leave home yet. Just sending a note to say thanks. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ According to our records, humans wrote their feelings down on pieces of paper, and sent them to others. Where did they learn to do such a thing? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, I like you a lot. Will you be my girlfriend? Waiting to hear back. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ I simply cannot understand the things they have written on these scraps of paper. I feel an unfamiliar feeling, my heart saying “no”… －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but I'm coming home late tonight. Go ahead and sleep if you're tired. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Ah, Devola. No need to worry about me this way. Tee-hee.

Favorite Pot

Yonah, I learned a special recipe! When you eat it, all your injuries will be gone! Oh! I want everyone to feed it to those they care about!

The ingredients are deer meat, sea turtle eggs, fresh veggies and herbs from the garden, and lastly tons of scorpion claws! Next, fill a pot up with all your ingredients, place the top on, and let it simmer overnight! The white steam rising from it is just so mesmerizing. ...Oh! I think it's ready! Smell for a soft scent when you take the lid off. That means it's done! I can't wait to give it to grandpa.

Transience

"Rule 0: You have the right to disband a rule by vote." I am the king's aide and second-in-command. Until now, all rules have be absolute, however, a "Voting Rite" was held where citizens could vote to change rules. Now, let's see what sort of ballots were made...

"Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime." And stated as the reason is: because I like drinking... Because it's anonymous, all these votes are based off selfish desires. We need to improve the system somehow that reflects public opinion.

"Rule 356: Royal inquiries are limited once per day." And stated as the reason is: because I long to be with the King more...? Could this Fyra's vote...? No. Of course not. She's not the type to be interested in love. Moving on...

"Rule 68: The King's aides are to forever serve at his side" Reason being: Thank you for all your hard work. You deserve a break once in awhile... Could this be from the King himself? I'm honored to have stood by your side all these years. And the citizens of this country are proud of your work. There's no doubt of it.

Note: After rigorous deliberation, "Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime", the most voted for rule, was repealed.

Grimoire Weiss ver.1.224

My name is Grimoire Weiss. I am an ancient tome of profound wisdom. After awakening from my long slumber, I traveled the world with my most beloved friends. She was a woman lacking respect for her elders. She'd continuously talk down to me, calling me nothing but paper and even set me aflame. However... Her rash words were also the driving force that moved us all. He was a compassionate and gentle boy who loved his friends. His manor of dress was odd, but his kind words warmed everyone's hearts. This I know to be true. I wonder if he, too had felt any relief from his sins. He was a cheeky guy, but not one you could just leave behind. We've been through a number of rough times together. I'd tell ya about it, but... I'm running out of time. If... If only I had an arm... Then I could have...hugged...him...

Grimoire Rubrum

It's the silk of fate. Knowing you, I shall begin living a life of truth. It's the forbidden fruit. Protecting you, I shall sink into wisdom's abyss. Those are the flames of anxiety. Thinking of you, I shall endure eternity's darkness. That is a reunion of bitter tears. Who are they? Why is it not me who's besides you?

Kaine’s Dual Blades ver.1.224

I craved it. Blind violence and blood-thirsty carnage. And I found it. I finally found it. A vessel stained with anger and hatred, seeking vengeance for the murder of her parents. I possessed that woman and gave her "power." That power turned the woman into a beast. One swing of her blade was enough to cut through stone and her grazes healed in an instant. She began downing every foe before her in the name of vengeance. I was delighted to witness the fruition of my desires. The woman's destruction didn't end there. After having her revenge, she continued to exert her "power" for the sake of her friends. Along her journey, her anger and hatred showed signs of waning, however, I gave it no thought. All I desired was to continue bathing in her bloodshed. Because her body has reached its limit, her power has lost control. Still, in the midst of the clashing of blades, I could feel her desire to protect her friends. Yes, this is the violence and carnage I crave. But why is it deplorable and empty?

Devola & Popola’s Spear

Upon hearing an old lady from the village caught a cold, I immediately collected my medicinal herbs with some boiled water, and rushed out from the library. I nursed her and remained by her side until her symptoms calmed down. She was extremely grateful for it.

I read a picture book to a group of children from the village. It was of an old tale about a brave, courageous man who triumphs over evil. I watched their expressions alternated between joy to sorrow to the story's pacing. I'm glad they enjoyed it.

Devola and I performed a song for the people at the village tavern. In addition to the regulars who drank there, elders and children were part of the audience. At the end of our song, the entire crowd smiled and cheered.

Every day Devola and I have been staying late at the library thinking of a plan to make life easier for the villagers. They're indispensable "vessels" for the project, so we need to do what we can for them.

Letter to the Postman

I was in a dimly lit cabin when I met a kind man. He taught me how to write a letter. What should I write on a blank piece of paper...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Apparently, a letter should start off with the name of the person you want to give it to. Of course, I'd want it to be his. I hope he'll be able to read my sloppy handwriting... ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

At the end of the letter should be the name of the person who wrote it. Of course, that would be the name he gave me. Is it odd my chest feels warm writing it...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

And in-between these two names, I'm supposed to write how I feel. And tell him what I want the most. I wonder if he'll be happy to receive this...?

―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans, Thank you　Thank you　Thank you Thank you　Thank you　Thank you　Thank you 　Thank you　Thank you. Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

[goodvibesandsunglasses]

depayse-flaneuse​:

Such an abrupt shift hardly went unnoticed with Nia’s touch trailing over his shoulders to keep him in place. “Wait a moment.” Her words were soft, dark hues studying his features and finding all too familiar signs. “Just a moment, please.” Placing a hand against his chest her fingers twitched at his heartbeat. Regret tightened around like a vice. It was shortsighted to think he would be able to talk about it in a casual manner- if anything, he was normal and she was the odd one. Gently cupping his face she offered a small smile. “I’m sorry. I should never have asked.” Helicopters. Part of her was certainly curious to know why, but given his reaction there was little chance she’d ever muster the courage to ask. Guiding him down to her height she pressed her lips to his cheek. “Je suis désolé.” Murmuring against his skin she placed another kiss before stepping back, slipping her hand in his. “Now we can eat.”

Practically forgetting she was supposed to be the guest, she made her way over to the spread. “Oh, you made tea!” Peeking in the pot she tried to guess the type. “Is it green?” A quick glance at the coffee and she raised a brow. “What kind of coffee do you drink?” While she wasn’t a coffee drinker she’d been around enough to know people tended to have very intense preferences. In her opinion though, it all tasted pretty bad. “And then…” Looking at the rest she tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Is this Japanese?”

He froze and took a deep breath. His gaze found hers as Ryan steeled himself, willing himself to act as if nothing had happened. He’d been that obvious. Such a silly reaction for not much… however it was one of the things he couldn’t control no matter how much he tried. Who could blame him though? It had been a traumatic experience, so much so that a chopper passing overhead while he was inside was a source of anxiety. Anyway, that was not where he wanted things to linger so he was going to put on a front and go on with breakfast. “It’s-”. He wanted to tell her that it was okay but the words died in his chest when she pressed a kiss to his cheek.The tenderness of it had his brain whizzing. And just like that, she was back to driving him crazy. It seemed that there were upsides to showing vulnerability after all. A simple smooch on the cheek was enough to get him going. So much for trying to behave and try to gain her trust. Now he just wanted to grab her face and kiss her, pin her against the counter and make love to her. He could imagine himself snuggling up to her and burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and just enjoy being close to her. But she was already pulling him in another direction. Well at least she knew exactly what to do to take his kind off choppers… and short circuit his brain as well.

Ryan took a deep breath and his bubble popped. Breakfast. Right. “I- I don’t drink coffee. I just assumed you did. There’s always a packet in the cupboard just in case, you know? But I can boil some water for tea, it’s no trouble at all”. He busied himself, moving swiftly around the kitchen to retrieve two plates then set them on the table. “It is. There’s miso soup with mushrooms, rolled eggs omelette, seaweed rice, salmon and fruits by yours truly. Are you cool with chopsticks or would you rather go with the good old fork and knife? And by the way, I’m rambling a little but I’m okay. I promise. It was nothing”.

[putschki1969]

KEIKO Message Movie Vol.55 Fan Club Exclusive Content

❗ Please support KEIKO ❗ ❗ JOIN HER FAN CLUB ❗ ❗ Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

I want to motivate people to join Keiko’s fan club. She is providing so many lovely videos so you really get a lot of bang for your buck!!! The annual fee for her fan club is ONLY 4.000 yen (which is really nothing considering you get so much regular content). She is finally doing a long-awaited cooking video💕

I will not share the content publicly. However, I really don’t like withholding content so I will resort to the following plan 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

👉LIKE and REBLOG my posts about KEIKO’s fan club content 👉Leave a REPLY explaining why you currently cannot join the fan club / If you have already done this, just say that you would like to receive a link 👉I will send you a Google Drive link via direct message 👉DO NOT SHARE the link or its content anywhere

Find a detailed summary below the cut

As you can probably tell from the picture, she picked something very adventurous for this video, yup, she is cooking eggs XD One of her favourite things to eat. In the background you can hear the water simmering, KEIKO apologises for all the noise. She wants us to show how she prefers to cook her eggs. She bought two brands of eggs and wants to try them out in order to find out which one is better. She always uses a particular type of salt to dip her eggs, a so called “snow salt” which literally looks like powdered sugar?

The water has finally started boiling so she puts in the eggs and lowers the heat a bit but not too much. She will let her eggs simmer for exactly 7 minutes and 15 seconds. On a side note, we get a closer look at the inside of her Louis Vuitton iphone case. Ahhhh, she got it personalised with a “KEI”, how cute!!! I have been trying to find this case in good condition forever but all the cases I can find are pretty hideous-looking (and the sellers are still charging a fortune for them!). She is using an induction stove for this video so she thinks that 7 minutes might be enough.

She is still going through all the questions she got in her survey. Many people were asking for recipes and what she eats in a day. But there is really not much to share for KEIKO. She mostly eats boiled eggs which she tends to buy at the convenience store. When she cooks them herself she prefers half-boiled eggs.

She mentioned it before but her meals are always the same. She only has one meal with solids a day (in the evening). The rest of the day she drinks water, takes her supplements and maybe busy a latte somewhere. If she has to sing or talk or do something that requires a lot of brainwork, she will have a protein bar or an egg. In the evening she always goes for meat, preferably beef. She likes it tender and in small pieces because she is too lazy to chew. She generally likes soft and fluffy things (the reason she is such a big fan of marshmallows XD). She likes her meat with salt, soy sauce, vinegar, wasabi, mustard, oil and cheese etc.

She hasn’t really cooked or baked anything recently so she has no pictures to share. Whenever she is on tour she eats what the catering is providing. But she would like to make a few things in the future and she will definitely share pictures of that in her fan club magazine.

Time is up, she is cool the eggs in cold water and even adds some sort of frozen package to the pot to make the eggs cool down faster. THEN comes the most hilarious moment of the video. KEIKO realises that even though she put two types of eggs in the pot, she has no way of telling which is which so she cannot really make a proper comparison. MAJOR FAIL. XD

KEIKO usually adds vinegar to the water which apparently makes the eggs easier to peel but today she forgot so she is having a hard time peeling them. She finally shows us the peeled egg which feels soft and bouncy, just perfect. She breaks it apart with her fingers but the yolk is so soft that it starts running down her fingers. It’s obviously still super hot so she needs to get some cold water on her hand. Now she cuts the egg properly in half and shows us the inside. It turned out perfectly. She adds a bit of salt and eats it. Yummy!! Too bad she will never find out which brand she just ate :P

[thosch3i]

Xiao Yuliang Interview [Eng Trans]

[Photo: XYL’s dog]

so remember this post? yeah well i wound up doing a mostly full translation of the entire 6 minute interview on twitter. some parts are paraphrased and a few details were skipped bc he sometimes repeated himself and there were one or two details i wasn’t 100% sure of, but other than that an eng transcript of the full interview is below the cut:

1. Introduce your role in "Ultimate Note"?

XYL: In Ultimate Note I play Zhang Qiling, Xiaoge.

2. What kind of impression does this character leave in your heart?

XYL: Before, I thought he was a really strong, and then a very cool, and then a very cold/detached person. But later, I finished reading the novel and read the script, and I felt like he's someone who lets your heart ache for him. The feeling he gives me--because once I was reading the script in a car, and I almost wanted to cry for him, because he's always searching for the things he's lost. And he's very strong, but he wasn't born strong; he also went through a lot, and he made himself strong. He can bleed, and he can get hurt; it's just that he doesn't say anything, and he doesn't show that he's in pain.

3. Talk about the initial pressure of receiving this role?

XYL: When I got this role, the pressure was really really big, but I also thought I was pretty lucky, because I'd played Zhang Qiling before, and I get to play him again, and I think that's pretty lucky. But the pressure is too big, on set right now, the pressure is very big.

4. Netizens were pretty satisfied with your performance; have you seen these comments?

XYL: When Sha Hai was airing, I saw their comments. Some of them approved, and I was happy, but others--like, saying some suggestions or opinions--I also looked at them. I also looked at the performances of other actors who played Zhang Qiling and comments on their performances. I used them as a reference, and I learned from the experiences/evaluations of others.

5. What was the greatest challenge of playing Zhang Qiling?

XYL: The biggest challenge is that there are too few lines. It's really hard to act! [Xiaoge] has some expressions where it's just, you can't make them too obvious or too "unrestrained" because his actions are also very restrained, but if you're too restrained then everyone just thinks you don't have any reactions. And the editors are also very hardworking, because they'll have 4 pages, and I won't have a single line, just reactions. The others will talk for 10 minutes, and I'll just be reacting. [Xiaoge] is a person with few/no words, but with his whole heart, he wants to go care for others...it's very difficult; this "no lines" is very difficult. Another thing is fight scenes are very difficult, and the weather is too hot.

6. What are some scenes that left the deepest impression on you?

XYL: Like when it's 3am, and we're running through a wild river, the water is all up to our waists, and we don't know what's underground. I was just afraid there were snakes, you know? Nothing we can do, just run. And there's also, because the filming location is at Xishuangbanna, there really are snakes. We've seen snakes etc on set, so we were afraid accidents would happen. Thankfully they didn't. And there was also when we were rubbing mud on our faces during the hot day. Actually, what we were rubbing was chocolate paste. When the chocolate on our faces dried, we spread on more, and it feels like you've become a "chocolate person", not a "mud person". I also tasted it--the BTS side clips recorded it; the taste is okay. [t/n: here is a link to that clip]

7. How did it feel working with the other actors in the crew?

XYL: Liu Yuning-laoshi [t/n: Hei Xiazi] is really nice. He doesn't have a temper, and he's a very calm and tranquil person. I think he's really nice. Xiao Xi [t/n: lit. “Little Xi”, nickname for Zeng Shunxi aka Wu Xie] is a little mischievous. Xiao Xi likes to stir up trouble on set and play around. In any case he plays around with Pangzi and me, but Liu Yuning-laoshi is more tranquil, not quite the same as [his character] in the show.

8. Before you posted a vlog caring for your pet on Weibo, why don't you introduce your pet?

XYL: My dog's name is a character I played once; my mom named him. Because we'd just finished filming that show, and then my mom got a dog, so she just called him my name in the show. Tell me, isn't that annoying? [t/n: drama was called 反骗天下/Fan Pian Tian Xia and his role was called 米若/Mi Ruo; his dog is apparently called 米诺/Mi Nuo.]

9. You've been an actor for awhile now; can you discuss what being an actor feels like?

XYL: Initially, before I became an actor, I thought, "Oh, cool". Everyday you're just, wow, holding weapons, cool! But now I think it's so hard. Especially while shooting this show, I got a sty for a month, and it's still not better even now. [t/n: you can definitely see the swelling under his eye in ep1] I think this sty is from accepting this role, or because of work. In any case, it's still not better. But it's no problem; thankfully, my hair can cover it. You also have to be careful of safety on set; real blades can slice open your hands. Once, I wasn't careful and cut my wrist, but thankfully the doctor's stitching skills were pretty good. When he was still stitching, I even said, "Doctor, you have to stitch it well, okay, I'm an actor, I use this hand to perform", and he said "Okay". After the stitches were done, he asked me, "Are you satisfied with the stitches?" The results were pretty good; it didn't really leave a scar.

10. Finally, promote this show to our fans.

XYL: You all have to watch our "Ultimate Note", because filming was really tough, and we've diligently tried to accomplish these three roles [t/n: the iron triangle, I’m assuming] and later on some of the the details of many of the books. I hope you will see similarities to the novel in some of the show's scenes.

and we are done! so yeah, i think his take on xiaoge’s character was the most important part, but some of the other stuff (listening to him complain about some things lmao) was kinda funny too. im still laughing about the whole ‘im an actor i need this hand to perform’ bit bc dude you literally sliced yourself open w a knife badly enough to need stitches but that’s your first priority???? glad you’re dedicated to your job though i guess but LOL

Quick question/answer:

1. What do you want to say to Zhang Qiling?

XYL: Xiaoge, you've worked hard.

2. Who from the show would you pick to go with you on an adventure?

XYL: I’ll choose...I'll choose Pangzi, because he'll definitely bring food. And he's fat, and he's pretty joyful, oh right, I can also bully him.

3. Describe the level of your cooking skills.

XYL: Cooking skills? The rank of instant noodles. Just boiling instant noodles, then adding the flavor packets, and then tomatoes, eggs...instant noodles.

4. If you're not restricted, what kind of role do you most want to play?

XYL: If I'm not restricted, then I want to play that guy who, in the morning, is just delivering takeout or is really well-behaved and wears glasses, that type, and then at night he pushes his hair back like this [xyl mimes pushing his hair back], and he starts to....different types...in any case, like split personalities, right, split personalities.

5. A sentence to describe your ideal life.

XYL: My family and I are healthy, and I have enough money to go live a normal life, eat/drink whatever I want, travel with my family, and just grow up slowly.

oh right additional note, in zsx's interview, when asked which character he'd take, he said xiaoge without hesitation. and the interviewer asked if he wanted to know who xiaoge picked and zsx was all "he didn't pick me did he...I'll be leaving now, thank you~" 😂

[cafedanslanuit]

(Hey! I'm from South America too! Yayyyy!) What if Jumin got stucked quarantined with MC on her parents house and she got a cold (no covid symptoms) and MC's parents were the overbearing nosy type (you know, latino parents 😂)? Would Jumin side with them and their home remedies? What to do when you can't make use of all your money instead😱? Lol! Thanks! 🤡

I’m a simple girl, I see a request for a latina MC and I write it down <3 So yaaaay! So nice to have you reading my blog~ I had SO MUCH FUN writing these headcanons! I tried to make MC’s parents feel as a couple of VERY latino parents without falling into stereotypes and I think I got it. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

important note: even if this is set in the current pandemic, it’s very light and fun, so have no worries! <3 and there are no mentions of the virus, so nobody feels triggered ~

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

Listen, Jumin is a man of SCIENCE. He may not understand it completely but this man is a very preoccupied caretaker when it comes to MC getting sick. He has a personal doctor that will come at any hour to the penthouse and do a check up even if all she has is the stomach flu.

MC isn’t used to that, but he lets her husband take care of her. It feels nice to see how much Jumin cares about her well-being.

They were visiting her parents in South America, whom they hadn’t seen since the wedding. Jumin hadn’t really been to MC’s hometown before, so he was looking forward doing some sightseeing, tourism and trying new commoner foods he just had to try, as MC said. He didn’t know what the big deal was about this salchipapa, it was just fried sausage and french fries, but MC was really excited about taking him to a food truck and making him have a bite of everything.

But the pandemic started.

At first, MC was sad about they not being able to do any kind of tourism while on her country, as she was looking forward teaching Jumin about her culture. They planned to stay in a hotel, but MC’s parents insisted they both stayed with them to save money and also have their daughter close. Considering it would be a good idea to take care of her folks in that situation, they agreed.

Everyone had agreed to speak English in the house as he didn’t understand Spanish quite well yet and MC’s parents didn’t understand Korean at all.

Jumin didn’t understand latino parents.

And no, he didn’t mean in in a bad way. He knew how much MC loved her parents and it was obvious they loved her too, but the amount of boundaries they had broken and how unphased MC seemed was really confusing.

For starters, her mom would randomly knock their bedroom door and bring them both a warm drink made of oatmeal and apples. It’s sweet, warm and suddenly he’s not feeling cold anymore.

“What’s this called, my love?” “Quaker.” “Yeah, that’s the brand of the oatmeal but what’s the drink called.” “…Quaker” “That’s what you call it?” “…Apple quaker?”

Another day, he was reading on his Kindle in the living room, when MC’s mother approached him, asking him what he wished to have for dinner, as everyone had already had their favourite dish in the week. He was startled and didn’t feel comfortable saying he liked steak or any other dish he actually liked, considering he knew MC’s parents weren’t wealthy enough to eat what he did on a daily basis.

Thankfully, MC saved him and told her mom she should prepare bisteck a lo pobre, and that he would probably like that.

“Bisteck?” “Yeah, beef steak.” “…But you said bisteck.” “It’s steak with fried egg and fried bananas and rice. It’s actually really good, trust me on this.”

Jumin also found out they ate rice with every dish. And he meant it. Every. Single. Dish.

Bisteck a lo pobre was really good though.

After lunch, the four of them would always stay on the table and chat a little. MC’s parents would take that chance to ask him about their lives in Korea, how were you adapting to a married life, if you were planning to have children soon, what funny stories he could them them about C&R etc. (spoiler: he didn’t think there were funny stories happening in C&R) 

They also liked to tell him embarrassing stories about MC’s time in highschool, which made her blush deep red, even though he found those stories endearing.

He liked to see them taking care of you both, but couldn’t help but compare it to his relationship with his own father, who loved him as well but wasn’t as warm and… interested with his relationship as MC’s parents were. It was nice, but really new for him.

Three weeks into the confinement, MC came down with the flu.

Jumin asked MC’s father what was their number of their personal physician. He answered they didn’t have one, they just went to the hospital whenever someone was ill.

Jumin: ????

Since it was only the flu and nothing else to worry about (Jumin had ended up calling a private laboratory to test MC and she was negative), all they had to do was wait for her symptoms to go away. Jumin suggested they call a pharmacy and buy some pills, but MC’s mother called nonsense. There was no need for ingesting so many chemicals.

Jumin: ?????????????????

He was reading to MC in their bedroom, trying to get her to relax, when her mom knocked the door. After MC asked her to come in, she entered the room, smiling softly at the newlyweds. 

“Baby, it's time for your inhalaciones de eucalipto" “Yes mom, let me just grab a towel"

As MC stood up, Jumin looked at her confused.

“A towel? In... all-- what?"

"Oh, steam inhalations. My mom puts some eucalipto leaves on a bowl with boiling water. I sit on the floor and cover myself and the bowl with a towel and breathe deep” she explained, as she took a towel from the closet.

“Like a sauna?”

“Yes! Just like that. Eucalipto helps with breathing”

Jumin never thought he would see her wife grab a bowl of boiling water with leaves, sit on the floor and cover herself with a towel but there she was. Giggling at her confusion, she invited him under the towel, saying there was no harm in him being with you there. He obliged to her request.

Ten seconds later, Jumin stood up, coughing, as he felt ice on his lungs.

“What was that plant?!” he asked in between coughs

“Sorry! I forgot my mom also put Vick Vaporub in it”

“YOU’RE BREATHING VICK VAPORUB?”

“IT’S FOR THE LUNGS”

The same night, you spiked a low fever. As Jumin changed again the wet cloth on your forehead, he heard your mother knocking on the door again. She showed MC a white bottle with a red cap and immediately he saw his wife’s eyes widening in horror.

“No” “But it’ really good for--” “No, no way” “But MC…” “Mom, I can’t stand thymoline…”

MC explained to Jumin it was usual for people in your country to soak the cloth in thymoline, since it supposedly helped lower the fever, but you couldn’t stand the smell. Seeing you mother insisted it was better than just water, he decided to check if it really had such a bad odor as MC said.

No, it didn’t.

It was worse.

The next day, the fever was gone, but MC still had a runny nose. For breakfast, her mother replaced quaker with a suspiciously good smelling tea. And he was a sucker for new tea.

“What’s in there, dear?” he asked

“Hmmm, what was in it, mom?” MC asked, redirecting the question to her mother.

“Borraja, escorzonera, eucalipto, menta and muña” she explained.

“Ah, Eucalipto. The one you used for the sauna” he remembered.

“Yes, that one. Would you like a cup too? It could help you prevent from getting the flu too” MC’s mom offered.

Jumin looked at MC, doubtful

“It doesn’t have Vaporub, right?”

“It doesn’t” MC giggled. “This one tastes actually good”

“Yes, thank you.”

When MC was about to take a sip, her father cleared his throat, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do we say before taking medicine?” he asked

“En nombre de Dios” MC sighed, and took her first sip. She then looked at Jumin and explained to him. “En nombre de Dios. In the name of God. Dad and mom always told me I should say that so the medicine works”

“Weren’t you an atheist?” Jumin asked. He couldn’t barely finish his question before MC began coughing loudly, gaining her folks attention. Once she regained her breath, she shot him a warning glare.

“Don’t say that in front of them!” she whispered. “They hate it when I say that. They think you made me convert back to christianity so let’s keep it like that”.

The symptoms disappeared in the course of three days with MC’s mom’s herbal remedies. Even if he couldn’t understand how MC could breathe Vick, he really enjoyed the tea her mom made for them both.

Jumin felt at ease chatting with her father or trying out new teas her mother made for him. He found out he didn’t have so hard to get along with them, as they were also welcoming him into their family.

Even if it was still new for him to see parents as invested in their daughter’s life as hers, he could see where did MC learn to be warm and caring as she was with him. Someday, he decided, he would go back again with his wife to do the tourism they couldn’t do this time and bring back as many of her mother’s herbal teas as he could.

[harley-sunday]

The Draw [16]

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language. 

Word count: 5k

AN: I just can’t seem to quit this story - I keep adding parts... But. BUT. We are closer to end. There’s not much more I can say without giving anything away, except that this chapter seems to consist of mostly phone calls... 🤷🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, please let me know what you think - I’d love to read your thoughts :) ♥

Masterlist

“I don’t know, Brad,” you try your hardest not to sound as frustrated as you feel, “last week you told me that you understood the process, so I don’t really get why we are missing all this inventory right now.” You rub your temples, trying to get rid of the headache that started when you got to the office this morning, quietly cursing the jetlag that has been bothering you ever since you got back from Greece on Saturday, although you know Brad’s fuck-up also has something to do with it. Inventory is not that difficult. 

Brad, who’s been interning at the San Francisco office for a grand total of three weeks and yet somehow thinks he’s God’s gift to this company, just shrugs, “I’m sorry?”

You just stare at him and shake your head, “No. Go over it one more time, ok? I’m keeping these here,” you tap the stack of papers on your desk, “so really start at zero again and report back to me tomorrow morning.” You watch him roll his eyes before he nods and turns around to leave. “Brad?” You no longer try to hide the annoyance in your voice, “Close the door on your way out, will you?”

When he does you let out a frustrated groan and lean back in your chair, quietly shaking your head and wondering if you were ever this cocky when you first started working here. Probably not, Deb would have never allowed it. As if on cue your phone rings and when you see who’s calling you answer with a smile, “Hi, Deb.”

“How you holding up, kid?”

“Just told an intern to start over on inventory,” you offer, “so I’m sure he’s telling the other interns what a bitch I am right about now.”

You hear Deb chuckle, “Good for you.” There are some muffled sounds on the other end of the line then and you can just imagine her getting up and walking to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee because the woman seems to run on double espressos and cigarettes. “Listen, I want to run something by you.”  

Weird. This is weird. Usually she just informs you after whatever it is she has decided, but her wanting to 'run something by you' tells you she actually wants your opinion. You sit up in your chair, curious to hear what she has to say, “Sure.”

“Technically I’ve found someone to take over the San Francisco office from you,” she says, “and on short notice too, because I know you’ve already been out there longer than you’d like.”

“Ok,” you draw out, not sure where she’s going with this.

You hear her sigh and then she mutters something about biting the bullet before she says, “It’s Mark.”

“Oh.” Your heart drops and your throat goes dry, the lump that suddenly has appeared hard to swallow. There’s a million things running through your head all at the same time, some good, most of them bad, and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. You don’t really know what else to say and so you stay quiet, waiting for Deb to give you something more to go on.

“I know,” her voice is unusually kind, reserved only for the really shitty situations and it tells you she hates this as much as you do. She clears her throat then, “I’ll be honest with you, kid, I contacted him. I know he wasn’t happy when I shipped him off to the London office after you-” she hesitates and clears her throat again, “After what happened. Thing is, he has done some great work there, out of all our overseas offices, this one’s giving us the best turnover.”

You only half-listen to her listing off why this is a good idea, your mind drifting to when you first met Mark. There was talk of a new guy coming in to maybe take over from Deb in a few years, supposedly the best in the business although some called him an asshole who would stop at nothing to get to the top and so by default you had decided you probably wouldn't like him, but then all of a sudden there he was, all six foot two of him, full of ambition and good looks  and sweeping you off your feet almost instantly. You told yourself, and him, you didn’t do office romance, that you would never date a colleague, but all it took was one night of overtime and some celebratory drinks after to make you forget your so-called rule. 

And the first six months were good, really good. Or at least that’s what you thought. In the end there were warning signs all along, but you just choose to ignore them. And even now you’re not sure what triggered him but something changed after those six months and Mark became manipulative, obsessive, and abusive, and at first you told yourself it was just stress from work, even though deep down you knew better. Still, you always believed you’d be the one to make him change his ways, if only you did what he wanted. Problem was, you were never sure what that was. 

He’d want you to wear a tight dress and high heels one day, and the next he would tell you you looked like a whore and what were you thinking leaving the house looking like that? It took you too long to understand you could never make him happy, no matter what you did, and that he would always find things to obsess over. When you finally realized your relationship had turned toxic it still took you another two years to quit him, and that was only after you learned he’d cheated on you with a girl from accounting. When Deb found out what Mark did she immediately took your side and made it look like his sudden move to the London office had been planned all along even though you know she had to pull quite a few strings. 

She still doesn’t know about the verbal abuse and the threats and the mind games, you realize then. Maybe if she did she wouldn’t have offered him to come back. 

“You still there?” Her voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Yeah.” 

She sighs and you can just imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose, “Thing is, with the experience he has, you’d only need a day, two at most, to bring him up to speed.” She hesitates, “If we bring in someone new-”

“It’ll take at least four weeks,” you offer with a nod even though she can’t see you. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes,” you echo. You roll your lip between your teeth, trying to decide whether or not you should tell her the full story. Would it matter? And if it did, would it mean you’d be stuck out here longer?

“Listen, take the day to think about it,” she offers then, “get back to me tomorrow and let me know, ok?” 

“Ok.”

“Alright.” 

Before you get a chance to say goodbye she has disconnected the call and so you’re left with your own thoughts. Tapping your phone against your chin you’re trying to decide what to do, but it seems like too big of a decision to make on your own. You pull up your texting app and send Lauren a quick message:

You free tonight? 

Her reply comes not much later and surprises you:

Sorry, can’t tonight. Going on a date :)

You type a reply almost immediately:

?? Why didn’t you tell me? But also, YASSS! Go get it, girl! Call me tomorrow?

You lean back in your chair while you wait for her reply, a little upset that she didn’t tell you, and you can’t help but wonder why. 

Her reply doesn’t really make you feel any better:

You were busy, babe. Talk to you tomorrow.

You kick off your shoes the moment you step into the apartment you refuse to call home, and head straight to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine, before you open the takeout container and put some of the fried rice and egg rolls you got from your favourite restaurant on a plate. It’s still nice outside and so you end up on the tiny balcony, now bare feet propped up on the railing as you eat your dinner. 

The thought of having to work with Mark again, if only for a short while, takes up most of your headspace and you hate how indecisive you are about it. Part of you wants nothing to do with him ever again, but part of you knows he really is the best man for the job. Say what you will about the asshole, but he knows how to run a company. Having Mark at the San Francisco office would probably mean neither you nor Deb would have to step in ever again and, you reason, he could probably manage Seattle and Phoenix from here too. 

You really just want to talk to somebody about this, because putting your thoughts into words has always helped you, and so you call your brother.

The call goes straight to voicemail although a message follows soon after:

At Jake's science fair, or did you forget that was today?

You let out a frustrated groan, because yes, you totally forgot. 

It does nothing to help your mood and you're starting to feel so bad about missing out on so much that's happening in Charlotte right now, what with Jake’s science fair and Lauren apparently dating someone, that it's actually making you homesick. You decide to pour yourself another glass of wine, because fuck it. 

When you close the fridge your eyes fall on a picture of you and Sebastian you've put up there and you figure maybe you should just call him. A quick glance at the clock, however, tells you it's early morning in Greece and so you forego that idea because you don't really want to wake him up with the news your ex is about to make a comeback into your life.

You are having a very ‘Woo is me’ moment and hate how alone you feel right now. You know the wine is not helping and so you dump what’s left in the glass in the kitchen sink and put the kettle on for a cup of tea instead. While the water boiling you set out to find a notebook, hoping that putting your thoughts on paper will help you figure out what it is you can do about this situation and maybe make some decisions.

You call Deb the moment you’re at your desk and she answers on the first ring.

“Tell me,” 

Never one to beat around the bush, you think, although in this case you appreciate it. “Have Mark take over San Francisco,” you tell her, “but I need him to do his homework in advance because two days is my absolute max.”

“Noted,” Deb agrees easily, “but?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, “I want to be able to divide my time between Charlotte and New York as I see fit, with Charlotte as my home base, at least for now. If I ever decide to move to New York I want it to be an option to turn that arrangement around-” 

“Give me two weeks once Mark has settled in-”

“-and I’d like to take four weeks of unpaid leave in August,” you add quickly, before you lose momentum. 

She sucks in her breath, “I don’t know if I can do that, kid.” 

“It’s only four weeks, Deb,” you counter, “and it’s unpaid. I still have enough days left to make it a paid vacation if that’s what you prefer.” You close your eyes and scrunch up your nose, anxious about her reply, because you’ve never really talked back to her like this before. 

Turns out there was nothing to worry about when she tells you, “Look who finally put on her big-girl panties, standing up to her boss.” She lets out a laugh, “I’m proud of ya, kid.” 

“Will you let me know when to expect Mark? I’ll make sure everything’s ready by then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“It’s just,” Lauren hesitates, and you want to tell her it’s ok, that you know you haven’t been there for her as much as you should have, but she continues then, “it’s weird not having you around, not knowing what you’re up to. Not knowing if, when I call you, I’m bothering you.”

“Hey,” you counter quickly, “you are one of the few people who never have to worry about that and I’m a little shocked you would even think that. You can call me day or night, Laur, always.” 

“I know.” She sighs then, “It’s just- I feel like- I don’t know, ok? It’s just different with you being so far away for so long. I miss you.” 

“I know,” you try to smile even though she can’t see you, “I’m sorry for not being the best bestest friend these past few weeks. I miss you too, babe.” You get up from the couch and make your way onto the balcony where you lean against the railing, “Let’s just hope Mark can make it out of London soon so I can get back to Charlotte and get back to annoying you twenty-four seven.” 

She laughs, “You’re going to have to share me now, though.”

You’re relieved she seems to have accepted your apology and so you decide to tease her a little more, “You do realize the first thing I’m doing when I get back is give Matt the same stern talking-to as you did Sebastian?” 

“Oh shit,” she whispers. A little louder then, “Please don’t, I really like him.” 

“Well you better tell him then that your best friend is not above kicking his ass if he ever hurts you.”

“Will do.” She clears her throat then, “So, are you going to tell Sebastian about Mark?” 

“That was the most abrupt change of subject ever,” you scoff with a grin, “what the hell, Laur?”

“I just think you should tell him.”

“I know,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I will. I just want to wait until I know when Mark gets here, you know?”

“Yeah.” She lets out a yawn and laughs, “Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” you smile, “I get the hint.” 

She laughs, “I’m sorry, babe, it’s been a long day. Listen,” another yawn, although you’re sure this one was on purpose, “let me know once you know more about Mark and when you’re getting back, ok?”

“Yup, will do.” You have to stifle your own yawn then, “Talk to you soon, babe.” 

“Love you.”

It isn’t until Friday afternoon that there’s an email from Deb, informing you Mark will take a flight from London next Wednesday so that you have all of Thursday and Friday to get him settled in. She’s included a list of subjects he wants to discuss but you decide that’s for later, before you close all active connections and shut your laptop off. You grab your phone off your desk and send a quick message to Lauren:

Coming home next weekend :)

Her reply comes when you’re at the elevator bay:

Yay! Let me know how when you land and I’ll pick you up! Xx

Your next message is to Sebastian:

Missing you something fierce, Stan! Call me when you can? X

The sound of your phone wakes you from a deep sleep early on Sunday morning, but you can’t help but smile when you see ‘Mr Smooth’ flashing on your screen and so you answer with a quiet, “Hey you.”

“God, it’s good to hear your voice again,” he whispers. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I have some news though.” There’s a knot starting to form in your stomach and so you figured it’s better to bite the bullet right away. 

“Tell me,”

“Promise you’ll let me finish before you say anything?”

“That bad?”

“Not really- I don’t know,” you push the covers off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You take a deep breath before you continue, “Remember when I told you about my ex, Mark?” 

“Hmm,” he replies, and you take that as your cue to continue.

“What I didn’t tell you then- And maybe I should have- We used to work together in Charlotte.” You clear your throat, “And when we broke up Deb moved him to the London office, but now she wants him to take over San Francisco from me.” You wait for a reply from him, but then remember you told him to wait and so you continue, “He starts on Thursday and we’ve scheduled two days for me to bring him up to speed, so I’m going to have to spend some time together with him and I don’t know, I just thought you should know.” You push yourself off the bed and make your way to the kitchen, “The good news though, is that I got Deb to agree to let me divide my time between Charlotte and New York from now on, and that I have four weeks off in August.”

He stays quiet for a little too long and so you’re preparing for the worst when he finally replies. But then he just says, “How do you feel about seeing him again?” and you feel a wave of relief washing over you.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I mean, I know he’s right for the job and it’s always easier to bring in someone who has experience and knows the company, but I- There’s a lot of history there and I just hope he realizes I’m not the same person anymore.” You lean against the counter and let out a sigh, “I guess I just want to get this over with and go back to Charlotte.”

“So nothing for me to worry about?” His voice is soft.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. 

“Good.”

Mark is, well, he’s still an asshole, you realize when he walks into your office and tries to greet you with a hug. You offer him a hand and a curt, “Hello,” and have to hide your smile when you see the disappointment in his eyes. You’ve been feeling nervous all morning, hell, all week, because somehow you knew he would try to act like nothing ever happened. 

“So this is how it’s  going to be, huh?” He says while he puts his briefcase down on one of the visitors’ chairs on the other side of your desk. 

“Yes, Mark,” you nod and sit down in your own chair, “this is exactly how it’s going to be.” You watch as he unbuttons the jacket of his three piece suit before he sits down and leans back in his chair and you hand him a folder, “Read this first, it’s an overview of the last five years and should give you a fairly good impression of how things are run here.”

He thumbs through the papers, seemingly resigned to the fact that it’s solely a business relationship between you two from now on, and you see his eyebrows go up when he comes to the financial statements, “How on earth-”

“I know,” you hand him another folder, “this is Paul Kroeger’s file. Or at least everything that I’ve managed to uncover in the few weeks I’ve been here. I really urge you to keep digging, because I’m sure more shit will come up.” 

“Why didn’t Deb step in sooner?”

“You’ll have to ask Deb that,” you offer with a shrug. Another folder then, “This is everything you need to know about the rest of the staff here. I don’t think anyone else was in on it, but again, you might want to keep digging.”

He nods, “Ok.” Taking all three folders, he puts them in his briefcase before he looks back at you, squinting a little as if he’s trying to read you. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips when he says, “You’ve changed.” 

And you haven’t, you want to bite back, but don’t because you want to at least try to keep things civil. Instead you simply agree, “I have.” You try to steer the conversation back to work, “We have a meeting with Finance in ten minutes, then lunch with the board, and a meeting with Sales in the afternoon. After that I figured we could take a quick tour of the building, so you can meet everyone, and then I’ll send out the official message to all of our partners.”

He just nods.

“I’ll make sure to have this office empty by the end of the day so you can get settled in,” you continue, “and then I’ll be available all day tomorrow should you have any further questions.” 

“You forgot one thing,”

You don’t say anything and just look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

A cocky smile flashes across his face when he says, “You forgot to mention we’ll be having dinner tonight so we-”

“We’re not having dinner tonight, Mark,” you say, effectively cutting him off. It makes you feel good to tell him no and so you have to try your hardest to hide your smile when you see his face drop. 

“You really have changed,” he says again, but this time there’s a hint of dismay in his voice.

You smile widely now, because fuck him, “Yes. I really have.”

Blame it on the red-eye flight and thus having to get up extremely early this morning, or simply on the fact that it’s been five weeks since you last saw her, but you find yourself actually tearing up when you walk out of exit E and see Lauren waiting there for you. 

She holds out her arms as you walk up to her and then envelopes you in a tight hug, “Don’t cry, silly.” 

“I just really missed you,” you sniffle while you wrap your arms around her. “And it’s that time of the month, so you know,” you chuckle through your tears, “double the fun.” When you pull back you see her eyes are glossed over as well and so you just stick out your tongue at her, “Let’s go home.” 

“Alright,” she says once you’re in her car, “start talking, babe. I want to know everything that’s happened since I last saw you.”

You’ve just finished telling her about your parents’ visit to San Francisco and your trip to Greece when she pulls up on your driveway and so all of a sudden you’re home again after almost two months. The garden looks absolutely immaculate and you know you have your parents to thank for that, reminding yourself to call them later today. Grabbing your suitcases out the trunk you let Lauren take one from your as you follow her to your house.

She turns around rather dramatically when you get to the front door, “Ok. So. Please don’t be mad, but-” she pulls a face, “-that plant in your dining room?” 

“Felicity?”

“Sure, yeah,” she scoffs, “name your plants. What’s next? Naming your electrical appliances?”

“You’re just stalling because Felicity the Fiddle Leaf Fig is obviously no longer with us and you’re just too afraid to admit you killed her,” you counter, trying to keep a straight face.

“I didn’t-” Lauren hesitates then and seems to realize you’re just messing with her, “but yes. Felicity has gone to plant heaven. It was all very sad. I buried her in the backyard if you want to pay your respects.” 

You let out a laugh, “I’d rather you just open the front door for me so we can have a drink and gossip about Mark.”

“You really said that?” 

“I really did,” you admit with a smile, thinking back to when you told Mark to have a nice life when you left the office Friday afternoon. You grab the bottle of wine from off the floor next to you and top of her glass before you fill yours, “I don’t know. In a way those two days gave me some sort of closure, I guess.”

“Hmm,” she agrees, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s next?”

“Well first you’re going to introduce me to Matt sometime this week-”

“Babe.”

“Babe,” you echo. “You’ve been dating for almost a month, do I need to remind you that you met Sebastian before we even were officially dating?”

“Yeah, ok,” she agrees, “I guess you could both come over for dinner next weekend.” She sits up a little, “So you’re going to be here for a while, right?”

You nod, “Sort of. I go back to work on Monday and then Sebastian’s scheduled to fly back on the third and that’s the same weekend I start my four-week leave-”

“That’s only two more weeks.”

“It is,” you smile. “I don’t know if he wants to celebrate his birthday here or if he wants to go to New York, and I think he said something about maybe taking a short holiday somewhere, but his next project starts in September so I’ll come back to Charlotte then and probably stay here while he’s away.” 

“Ugh,” Lauren rolls her eyes and shakes her head but smiles, “to be the girlfriend of an international superstar.” 

“Tante!” Jake exclaims when he opens the front door. He all but jumps in your arms to give you a hug.

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” you tease, resisting the hug, “who are you and what did you do with my nephew?” You laugh when he pulls a face, “You are getting too big, kiddo, slow it down a little, will you?” 

Jake giggles and hugs you even tighter. 

“Ah, there she is,” Nathan says from the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, “my long-lost sister. So glad you're finally gracing us with your presence after coming back home a week ago.” 

“So dramatic,” you counter with a grin, although he has a point. You should have gone to see them sooner, but as always work got in the way, what with Deb doubling your workload before you take your leave in another two weeks. Jake jumps out of your arms then and so you get to hug your brother for the first time in what feels like forever, ‘“ Hi, Nate.”

“Hi, loser,” he says from somewhere over your shoulder, but the way he holds you tight tells you he’s missed you too. 

“How you holding up?”

“Good,” he pulls back and smiles, “still some headaches every now and then, but not as much as two months ago-”

“That’s good,” you agree. You follow them through the house and out into the backyard, where Jake excitedly shows you the inflatable swimming pool he and Nathan put up yesterday. Sitting down on one of the chairs you watch him as he takes off his shirt and jumps in without hesitation. 

Nathan re-emerges from the kitchen with some iced tea and hands you a glass before he sits down somewhere next to you. He flicks your upper arm, “You good?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“Truth?”

“Truth,” you reply with a nod. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “a lot has happened in a short time, I guess.” 

This is new, you think, this out-in-the-open caring side of your brother. You decide you like it and so you try not to make a smart remark but instead reassure him, “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Nate, what are you getting at?” You’re confused now, because why is he pressing this? 

He hangs his head and lets out a sigh, “I guess you haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

“I’m not-” you watch him as he gets his phone and pulls up something that has his jaw set in a way that tells you whatever it is, it’s not good. He hands you his phone then and you let out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the pictures.

“I figured that’s why you were here,” he says with a nod towards his phone.

"When?"

"Saw them this morning," he offers.

You scroll further down and feel your throat go dry when you see picture after picture of Sebastian and some girl, her hand on his arm as she seems to whisper something in his ear. He’s laughing in some of the pictures and if you didn’t know any better you’d think they were on a date. 

“Is that his co-star?” Nate asks quietly, knowing that if it is the pictures could have been taken on set and it wouldn’t be as bad. 

Not trusting your voice right now you just shake your head because no. No, it isn’t. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, babe,” Lauren tries again, but she sounds a little less confident now that she’s seen the pictures and read the accompanying article about Sebastian’s new mystery woman where they claim she’s a Greek local he fell for while filming ‘Monday’.

You drove straight to her house when you left Nathan’s in a hurry, but only after you promised him you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and now you’re on her balcony, trying to make sense of all of this over some hard liquor because you both deemed wine wasn’t going to cut it. 

She says something else then, but you’re not really listening and so you just continue to stare into the distance. She nudges you with her foot, “Call him.” 

You shake your head, “I don’t want to.” 

“Why not?”

You look at her with tears in your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “What if it’s true?”

[fleckcmscott]

Watch What Happens - Chapter 8

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Swearing

Words: 3,835

A/N: Totally self-indulgent, but when Sinatra is mentioned, this is the song I hear playing (though almost any would do): Nice ‘N’ Easy

Also, a big thanks to @harmonioussolve​ for reading this chapter before I had the courage to post anything!

Arthur paced in front of the door to Y/N’s apartment. His shoulders lifted as he sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t stop fiddling with the collar buttons of the red sweater he wore (one of the few pieces of clothing he had that fit him properly). A rose was in his hand, one he’d grabbed at a vendor on the way over. He’d gotten it on a lark - women were supposed to like flowers. Now he was on the verge of worrying off the leaves.

It’ll be fine. It’s only Y/N. Only Y/N - what a joke.

Forcing himself to stand still, he slowly raised his hand to trace the apartment number, 4A. Then he swallowed hard and knocked.

“Just a minute!” she called.

At the sound of her voice, he leaned forward to listen to her slight shuffling. As her footsteps brought her nearer, he screwed his eyes shut, trying to calm his pulse. Hearing the sound of the deadbolt being unlocked, he straightened. The door swung open.

There she stood, beaming. His breath stopped. That smile was for him. Because of him. It was hard to take-in. His eyebrows lifted and he held out the flower. “Hi.”

“Hi, Arthur. You look wonderful.”

His cheeks burned and he lowered his eyes to the floor. “Thanks. So do you,” he said.

Y/N took the rose from him and gently ran her fingertips over the petals. “This is lovely. Thank you.” She stepped back, then, and extended her arm to guide him inside. “Come in, come in.” After closing the door behind her, she darted back to the kitchen. “You can put your coat on the hooks by the door.”

He did as she instructed, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it up next to hers. He felt his throat clench and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. Don’t fuck this up. Letting out a long breath, he stepped further into the apartment and peeked around.

It was different than he’d imagined. The white walls were sparsely decorated, with a calendar here or a print there. The cream colored carpet was plush, but struck him as a pain to keep clean. The living area was larger than his own, maybe by ten square feet. In the low light of the side table lamp, he could see there were no knick-knacks anywhere, no photos. Two doors were connected to the room, which he deduced were for the bathroom and bedroom. A third, glass door led outside. His eyes went to the kitchen, which was in the same spot as in his own apartment. It was somewhat longer, with a dining nook at the end.

He knew he was out of place. The freshness, the newness of the apartment was a stark contrast to his own, aged home. It was nice to be here, though. Different, but nice.

Y/N interrupted his reverie. “Did you have any trouble finding your way here?”

Arthur approached her, leaning against the kitchen entrance and folding his arms over his chest. “No, you gave good directions.”

She cocked her head at him. “I was thinking the other day how it’s funny you live so close by. Well, relatively close by.” Stirring slowly, her attention back to the stove, she continued. “I wonder how often we passed each other without noticing,” she said.

The words, spoken in her usual casual tone, landed with him, hard. He didn’t answer, unsure of what to say. Instead, he tried to focus on her easy manner. So far, it had always helped him relax.

He let his eyes rove over her form, noting that her conservative heels complimented the curves of the back of her calves. Her knee-length skirt prevented him from checking out her thighs, but it accentuated the feminine silhouette of her backside. The blue sweater she wore was snug, and he could make out the curve of her breasts. Her hair looked soft, and he alternated between wanting to touch it and breath in her scent.

The moment she looked at him, he averted his eyes to what she was cooking. He didn’t recognize it. “That smells good. What is it?”

“Beef stroganoff. I can’t take too much credit. My crock-pot did most of the work. I’m just boiling the egg noodles now, which is about the height of my cooking skills.” She huffed and shook her head at herself. “I’m selling myself well, aren’t I?”

Arthur met her gaze, then pushed himself to verbalize what came to mind. “I’m already sold on you.” He froze for a split second, then smiled in relief as her eyes warmed and he realized he’d said the right thing. As she retrieved a colander, he saw that she’d put the rose he’d brought in a glass of water. Emboldened, he stepped next to her. “I’m actually okay around the kitchen, taking care of my mother… Maybe I can help?”

She placed the colander in the sink as she fished a noodle out of the pot. After testing it, she handed him oven mitts. “Yeah, would you drain these? The pot’s heavy and I messed up my wrist at work today. Too much typing.”

He put them on and picked up the pot. “Are you all right?” he asked. Dumping the noodles into the sink, he watched her take out plates, cutlery, wine glasses, and a bottle of red wine.

Shit. Maybe Gary had been right.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said, placing the silverware on the table. “Happens sometimes. Occupational hazard.” She grabbed the wine corker and opened the bottle, then held it out to him. “Here. You pour and I’ll serve.”

“Um, okay.” He took the it from her and furrowed his brow at the glasses. He’d drunk occasionally, but wine was new to him, and he was trying to figure out how much to pour. Half a glass? A full glass? He went with the latter.

Y/N’s hand was on his bicep in an instant and he stiffened. “Arthur, that’s too much,” she laughed. “Are you trying to take advantage of me?”

He flinched and put the bottle down. Did she really think that? “No, I wasn’t-.”

Her hand moving down his arm to the back of his hand stopped him. “I’m teasing you,” she said. She gave him a little squeeze. “You’re going to have to get used to it.”

The smile she was giving him, the glint in her eye, her close proximity. For a moment, he could see himself clearing the counter with his arm, lifting her onto it, stepping between her legs, pulling her mouth to his -

A nudge from her elbow caught his attention. “Is this enough?”

He blinked down at the portion. It was more than he usually ate in a day. “That’s plenty.”

After serving herself, she grabbed both plates and brought them to the small, round table at the end of the kitchen. He followed her lead, wine glasses in his hands. The corner of his mouth turned up when he saw he was supposed to sit next to her, not across from her. She sat down and put a cloth napkin in her lap, and, taking his cue from her, he did the same. “Well, enjoy.”

Arthur watched her movements for a few seconds before starting. He wasn’t used to sitting at a table and eating with someone, even though he’d often wished for it. It had always been more casual: TV dinners on the couch, or alone at his table as he wrote in his journal. He observed the way she held the knife and fork, in her right and left hands, respectively. He was used to cutting his food with the side of his fork. He tried to hold the cutlery in the same manner she did, but it felt unnatural. He could feel himself tense up. A short laugh forced its way through his throat. Wincing, he instinctively covered his mouth.

Y/N lightly put her hand on his shoulder, caressing him soothingly, then gave him a tender squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m a little nervous, too.” She hummed softly with a blush. “And I didn’t invite you here to be uncomfortable or someone else. Eat how you want.”

His eyes watered but he managed to blink it back, hoping she didn’t notice. She had no idea how often he wished to be someone else, away from this city, his conditions. But not tonight. He was glad to be here tonight. With her. Lowering the hand from his lips, he nodded. Taking his fork in his right hand, he took a bite. He chewed it slowly and mulled over the texture. “It’s very good,” he said. “Thank you.”

“It’s great when the weather’s this chilly.”

A few mouthfuls later, he tried the wine. It was surprising, a little dry, but he decided he liked it. He cleared his throat. “I know we talked about this before, but I still don’t understand how you could choose Gotham to live in. There are other cities.”

She took a drink herself. “I needed time to save up enough money to move. I was doing legal work at home, too. Once I’d put away enough and could leave, I applied to every paralegal job in a big city. Metropolis, Toronto, Central City. I didn’t care where it was. And I got work in Gotham.” She looked pleased. “I’m glad I did.”

Bashfully, he smiled back. “Me, too,” he said.

Looking ahead, she chewed thoughtfully. “I never felt at home in Boonville, you know? It’s such a small town. Nothing to do, not much opportunity. I thought I’d be able to settle down there and be content with my ex-husband, but that didn’t happen.” She squinted then and her eyes pierced his. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? That I’m divorced? I know it’s unusual, but I got married twenty years ago when we were both young and stupid.”

He wouldn’t have minded if she’d been locked up in Arkham with him. Arthur shook his head. “Does it bother you that I’m not?” He could see her shoulders loosen at his answer.

Chuckling, she continued to eat. “You seem to hate it here.”

He paused, pondering what to say that wouldn’t put her off. For reasons he would never understand, she loved Gotham. “People can be awful.” Bitter memories starting surfacing. “They’ll cut you off in line like you’re not even there. There was a homeless guy once, who died on the sidewalk near where I live. People were just stepping over him. Like they didn’t even notice.”

His voice lowered as he poked at the food on his plate. “What happened on the train?” he said. “That wasn’t the first time. You’re the only reason I got out of there all right.” He brought a hand to his forehead. “It’s tiring. And embarrassing.”

Y/N’s hand touched his and he let her pull it away from his face. “Don’t be embarrassed because others are assholes. Just don’t be one yourself. That’s all anyone can do.” She finished the last few bites of her food. “There are awful people everywhere.” A short snort escaped her. “At least here it’s in your face and you know where you stand.”

They continued in silence for a few moments, Arthur finishing his meal. “Oh, I haven’t told you yet.” He perked up, a wide smile on his face. “I have a stand-up show next Tuesday at eight. Maybe you should come see me?”

She stood, grinning down at him “Of course I’ll be there. Just tell me where.” Bending slightly at the waist, she picked up their plates. “Would you like seconds?”

He observed her, the closeness of her face. Suddenly, he was hungry again. “Please.”

~~~~~

Nicotine soothed what remained of Arthur’s nerves as he stood on the fire escape, cigarette in his mouth. He’d been craving a smoke since entering the apartment building. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he went over the evening so far. He was feeling pretty good, which was new. He hadn’t made a mistake, except with the wine, which Y/N didn’t seem to mind too much. It was nice to be around a person who so comfortable with themselves. He hoped it would be contagious - it seemed to be when he was around her.

At least partially. Part of him wondered what she saw in him, anyway. A professional woman like her interested in a high-school dropout like him? He hadn’t minded leaving school at the time. It had been difficult, with his laughter and black moods. And quitting had eventually become a necessity so he could take care of his mother. Working odd jobs and concentrating on comedy and performing had helped him get out of his own head, at least for a time. Y/N was such a contrast, having gone to college and made something of herself. He hoped she never realized he was worthless.

He closed his eyes against the musings worming their way into his brain, wishing his mind would let him enjoy himself. He felt himself slipping sometimes, though he still mostly managed to push through the negative thoughts. They were recurring more often, however. Two of his medications had run out. He only had enough of the rest to get him through Sunday. The effects of suddenly stopping them wasn’t something he knew much about, having been on them for so long. And now he had no one he could go to to ask. So far, the most obvious change had been the shortening of his refractory period from a few days to a few hours.

Though Y/N might have also helped with that. He blushed, feeling a little shameful, thinking about it with her maybe twelve feet away.

As if on cue, he heard her open the glass door behind him. “The ad for the apartment said this was supposed to be a balcony,” she giggled. When he didn’t reply, she loosely put her arm around his back at his waist. “Arthur, you’re so tightly wound. I want you to have a good time. You need more wine.”

He chuckled, the corner of his mouth turning up as he blew smoke through his nose.

Her voice was apologetic when she spoke again. “I’ve noticed when I touch you, you sometimes tense up.” Y/N stroked his side, softening her words. “Should I stop? I don’t want to, but if you-”

Arthur turned to her, grasping her hand desperately. “No. Please.” He entwined their fingers, savoring her smaller palm against his own. It was odd to voice what he craved as if it mattered. “I want you to touch me. I think about it a lot.” He scoffed at his own vulnerability. “I’m - I’m just not used to it.”

She nodded in understanding, tightening her hold on him. “It’s been a couple years for me, too.”

He flicked his cigarette off the ledge and watched it as it fell. It’s only been thirty-five here.

“Come back in,” she said, turning and pulling him inside. “It’s cold out and you could do without the cancer sticks.”

The notes of music coming from a radio in the corner caught his ear. Sinatra was playing. After closing the door, she stood in front of him expectantly. When he gave her a crooked smile but didn’t move, she extended her hand to him. “Mr. Fleck, you told me you were a good dancer,” she said, lifting an eyebrow. “Show me? Quick, before the alcohol wears off and I change my mind.”

He grasped her hand tenderly, then, and stepped closer. “Change your mind? About me?”

“No, silly. Embarrassing myself.” She gripped his shoulder.

Arthur scoffed. “I don’t think that’s possible.” It took him a couple seconds to steel himself before he could place his hand on her side. Gently, he started to move, leading her to the song’s beat and rhythm. He longed to look into her eyes, and did so for a few moments before self-consciousness took over. When that happened he pulled her closer, his eyes shutting as his jaw grazed her cheek.

After a few minutes, her forehead fell forward onto his shoulder. She moved her hand to his chest and sighed contentedly. “Where’d you learn how to dance?”

His hand went over hers. “My mom taught me when I was little. That’s when I started. And I’ve listened to a lot of Jackie Gleason Orchestra records.” He dipped her, then, not too far, but enough to feel her weight on his arm.

She laughed. “Those records are so cheesy. I love it.” When he brought her back up, she put her hand to her forehead. “I gotta sit down. My head’s spinning.” At his disappointed groan, she waved dismissively and sat on the couch. After taking off her heels and pouring a third glass of wine, she cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking about you and your mother. You’re in a tough situation. I’ve been there.”

“You have?” he asked.

Y/N swallowed hard, taking a drink. “One of the reasons I had to stay home for so long was my father. He had dementia.” Looking up at him, she added, “Is that what you deal with?”

His brow pinched and he sat next to her. “I’m not sure. She’s been sick a long time. She focuses on strange things.” He rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “Lately, she’s been obsessed with Thomas Wayne.” Sighing, he said, “She keeps writing him letters asking for help, because she worked for them thirty years ago.”

She nodded and turned her body to face him. “My father got like that, too. Always obsessed with the mail. Thinking someone was stealing from him.” She sniffled once and swiped at her nose. “My mother had passed away. My sister - I have a sister - she tried but she has her own children.” Tucking her feet under herself, she leaned against the back of the sofa. “In the end, the worst thing was the emotional back and forth. Most days he was a shadow of who he used to be. But there were days when he knew who I was.” She clicked her tongue. “You keep hoping for more of those, but they don’t come.”

Arthur saw her lip tremble and her eyes gloss over. Pressure formed in his chest. He wanted to comfort her and make her smile, but he didn’t know how to do it. He settled for putting his hand on her forearm and turning to her.

Staring into the distance, she continued. “You get to the point where you don’t recognize yourself. All you want is to be alone with your thoughts instead of…” She blinked a couple times and looked at him, as if realizing she wasn’t alone, and grimaced shyly. She put down the wine glass. The heel of her hand went to her eyes to wipe away unshed tears. “Whew. I shouldn’t have started that third glass. I’m sorry. I’ve ruined our beautiful evening.”

“No,” he answered quickly, moving his hand to her shoulder, the way she had comforted him at the dinner table. “You didn’t.”

She stood, still seemingly embarrassed. “You’re too kind.” She held her hip and looked down at him. “You’ve asked a couple of times if I was real. Are you sure you are? You seem too good to be true. How are you not married with five children or something?”

He widened his eyes and studied the surface of the coffee table, laughing quietly. Good thing she couldn’t read his mind. Or his journal. “Now I know you’ve had too much to drink,” he said.

She continued to stand there, looking down at him with narrowed eyes. “It’s possible.”

He smiled wryly. Sensing the evening was winding down, he picked up the glasses and brought them to the kitchen. He put his hands on the edge of the counter, grasping until his knuckles were white. Even though he thought it would be the correct thing to do, considering she was tipsy, he didn’t want to leave.

Y/N followed. Her hand touched the small of his back as she moved to rummage in a bottom cabinet. “Let me pack some of this up for you and your mother.” She pulled out a few Tupperware dishes.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

Not heeding his words, she started to fill each dish with a separate part of the meal. “I’m one person. It’ll go bad before I eat it. Plus, I want to.”

Arthur slowly went to the door and pulled on his jacket. When he turned around, she stood before him, a grin on her face, bag of leftovers dangling from her fingertips. “Thank you for coming over, Arthur. It was the best night I’ve had in a long time.” She leaned forward, stood on her toes, and gave his cheek a tender kiss.

He let out a long breath, then, staring at the floor before meeting her look. Before the moment passed, before he left, he had the urgent need to do something, anything. His voice cracked slightly. “Y/N, I…” For one of the first times in his life, he followed his instinct, placed his hands on the sides of her face, and leaned in to kiss her.

Y/N’s lips were soft, so soft, against his own, and her short moan warmed him. He could feel her pull him closer, her hands going across his back as his own slid down to her sides. She tilted her head and deepened the kiss, one of her palms going to the nape of his neck, her fingers in his hair. When her fingernails met his scalp, a groan escaped him and he grasped her hip. It happened so quickly. He felt himself hardening in his pants as her lips sought his.

She broke the kiss first, gasping and giggling. “I’ll be at your show next week, all right?”

Arthur was lightheaded; she was still hanging onto him. His voice was unsteady when he answered. “Yes. Okay.”

She finally released him from her arms and handed him the food. He took it gratefully, a sad smile breaking out as he turned to leave. She tempered the blow by giving him another quick kiss when she opened the door. “Get home safely.”

He nodded, voice raspy when he answered. “I will.”

She slowly started shutting the door, whispering, “Good night” before it closed completely.

Arthur stood in the hallway. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he attempted to quiet his heart. Did she know what she did to him, how quickly and hard he had already fallen for her?

With a sigh, he started down the hall, stretching his arms in front of him to expel the energy built up in his wiry frame. After the elevator opened, he entered it with a little spin, and chuckled, thinking about he was going to need a new journal after writing tonight.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​@clowndaddyfleck​ @stephieraptorr @rommies @sweet-nothings04​

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 22/32 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age II Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Isabela (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution, Drowning, Wilderness Survival Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both? 

Loriel’s routine was by this point quite well-developed.

She woke at dawn, with the sun. Usually the light was enough to rouse her, but in case it wasn’t, she had a timed rune of frost under her bed set to go off half an hour after sunrise. On the rare occasions that she was inclined to laze in bed, it was enough to get her out of it.

Breakfast would be waiting for her, and it was never late. Loriel did not micromanage. Things in her Keep were done correctly the first time, or they were done by somebody else. Her breakfast varied little. One egg, hard-boiled; porridge, salty,  never sweet; fruit, whichever seasonal. She could draw some energy from the Fade, but repeated use of blood magic attenuated her connection to the Fade enough that she still needed to eat. Someday she would look into eliminating that need entirely, once her other obligations were met. She would eat on a balcony as the sun rose, less out of a desire to see the day begin, and more out of a removed knowledge that some sun was necessary for her health. Someday she would fix that flaw as well, but for now, if she had to waste time eating, she could at least get that out of the way while she was at it.

Within a quarter of an hour she would be at her desk. A stack of letters would be waiting there. She would skim them; few really required a personal response. The ones from Avernus, she put aside to deal with later.

When she finished with that, she would indicate for her seneschal to enter. Her name was Brigit; she was bright-eyed and fervent, relentlessly competent, utterly indispensable. She was most of the reason the Keep still functioned at all. She would be waiting outside the door, a cup of tea in hand. The tea—bitter, biting, oversteeped—was Loriel’s one indulgence. She would drink it and listen to the daily report. Brigit respected Loriel’s time, and began with what Loriel cared about—first, had there been any sign of the Architect? Second, had any Wardens begun to hear the Calling?  And third, had any been killed?

There was never any sign of the Architect. Most of the Wardens at Vigil’s Keep were far too new for the Calling. But every once in a while, there would be deaths. Loriel would ask for their names. She forgot them as soon as she heard them, but it was important she hear them.

The rest of the half-hour was an abbreviated exchange of questions and instructions. If there was anything that absolutely needed Loriel’s personal attention, Brigit would ask for it—but few things did. People needed or wanted the entity known as the Commander of the Grey, or the Arlessa of Amaranthine, or the Hero of Ferelden. Loriel held those titles by an accident of history; she had no personal characteristic that suited her for them.

Then Loriel would hand off any letters that needed replying to. Brigit could mimic her hand and her signature easily enough, and Loriel received far too much correspondence to deal with it all herself.

With the business of rulership out of the way, Loriel would descend to her underground chambers. She would work for ten or twelve or fifteen hours. If she tired early, she would sit and read. She avoided falling asleep underground—it was too disorienting. Each day she ascended, changed into the clothes left for her freshly laundered well in advance, cleaned her teeth, and slept. Once a week, she would bathe, whether she needed it or not—the alternative was to forget to bathe entirely. She did not bother to fall asleep naturally—there was a simple spell for that, and she saw no reason not to use it.

Her research went slowly. But it went.

And so the clockwork of her life ticked on.

tck

The work itself was going better than it had. 

Her methodology was much like her daily routine—plodding, relentless, as bland as it was efficient. She followed procedure, did what needed to be done, even if she had no appetite to do it. Her reams of close-written notes were meticulous to the point of exhaustion. She lived and breathed rigor. Almost everything she tried failed, and each failure was a step closer to success.

Eventually—something would work. 

A dim awareness fluttered in her mind that the bright scalpel of her mind was now little more than a crude cudgel, but what did it matter that she wasn’t brilliant? The work still got done. 

Her underground lab had grown from a single rough chamber to a warren of interconnected tunnels and specialized chambers. The Underkeep stretched nearly as far as the Keep above. In one room, the vastly expanded lab space, tables of glass devices and cabinets of reagents. In another, her library, swollen with tomes both common and rare, with her own notes and manuscripts and diagrams. Another room stood lined with cages holding dozens of creatures subject to her experiments—rats, it turned out, reacted very much like elves and humans to the Blight, and they bred fast. Lines of entropy enchantments lined their cages, keeping them in stasis until it was time for them to be of use. An underground stream provided water, wrested from the depths of the earth and channeled through pipes of stone. All of it climate controlled with her elegant runes. It was never too hot or too cold, never too wet or dry; no mold, no pests, no sunlight, save that which she made herself. 

And below that, another tunnel, deeper than the other, longer, and layered with more protections; it lead to the Deep Roads. She ventured there; sometimes for some purpose—to collect a sample, to check for deliveries from her friends beneath the earth—but most often simply to sit in the dark, to feel the miles of stone pressing down on her, and be empty of thought and of feeling and being. 

tck

One of the few reliable reasons that Loriel ever left her Keep was when she went to see Avernus. Letters passed between them frequently, almost entirely of a technical nature—what reagent could be used to evoke such and such reaction? What were the best ways to keep blighted flesh preserved for study? Where were the most promising leads to follow up on to search for lost Tevinter literature on the subject?—But often letters weren’t enough. So once or twice a year, Loriel would gear up and make the journey to Soldier’s Peak. She would stay there for a handful of weeks, making aggressive collaborative progress with Avernus until both their tolerances for other people dried up and Loriel returned to her Underkeep.

“I see you are still being unreasonable about human subjects,” Avernus sniffed on one such occasion, while they both watched a cauldron boil in silence. 

This was a frequent subject of complaints in his letters. “I see no reason in deliberately poisoning a well. Do you imagine the work would go faster if I was driven from my fortress with torches and pitchforks?

“Torches and pitchforks, hmph! As though peasants with torches and pitchforks are any threat to you.”

“Peasants, no. A Chantry army of Templars? A new Exalted March?”

“Do not tell me you still fear Templars. If that were truly your chief concern, you would not have let so many join your Order. ”

He was baiting her, and it wasn’t going to work. “I do not need to fear them to understand what is prudent, what is necessary, and what is not. The work will continue as it has.”

“And in the meanwhile, your Wardens will continue to die, because of what amounts to self-interest, hm? Because you fear the consequences of a little risk? Because you do not like to think of yourself the way you think of me?”

Bait. This was bait. She was too good to fall for bait. But Maker, Avernus could be really irritating in person. 

“I am working with you to cure the Calling,” Loriel said evenly. “To save my wardens from a terrible fate. What sense would it make to sacrifice their lives in order to save them?” 

Avernus snorted. “Very well, child, suit yourself. At your age I felt much the same.”

Something in the way he said child— not a word he often used for her, a word he clearly used now because he knew it would enrage her—sounded so much like Irving that she nearly lost control of herself. Who in the void did he think he was? If not for her grace, his desiccated corpse would be enriching the soil by now. She could have killed him when they’d first met. She could kill him now, if she wanted.

The old bastard watched her with a defiant, mocking eye, daring her to try. She could, couldn’t she? She was younger, faster, and yes, stronger. For all his experience, she had the more raw power to throw around. They had both seen battle, but his battles were a century old while hers were fresh and bleeding—and she’d bested him before. Granted, she hadn’t been alone then...but she was stronger now. Yes, she could kill him—

But the old blood mage was all she had.

“My title,” she said crisply, turning her eyes back to the slowly boiling cauldron, “is Commander.”

He rolled his eyes at her, and asked how her experiments with draconic gall had gone, and they spoke no more of it that day.

Avernus wasn’t all bad. He could be a cantankerous, amoral, belittling bastard, but he was clever, and not the worst to talk to. Sometimes he would be taken aback by her original ideas, rendered silent and thoughtful by her insights. Sometimes she would make a remark that seemed to her perfectly obvious, but which would send him consulting his notes and tomes, muttering under his breath. Each such instance left her smug and glowing for hours. Avernus never rendered praise—which she preferred—but this was better.

Pathetic, that she cared what he thought of her. And she did care. Commander or not, intellectual equal or not, she was his pupil. Avernus had plumbed depths of magic yet unknown to her, and his mind held secrets it would take her years to extract. And whatever his faults, he never lied, not about anything.

How badly she had wanted to please First Enchanter Irving as a child. How much she had lived for his praise, for his assurance that she was so bright, so special, so different from the other children. How pathetic he had looked when she had saved him from the Fade, how much she had hated his mealy-mouthed supplications to his Templar master. Each time she remembered it, she coated the memory with a fresh layer of poison.

Loriel was no fool, and she had no love for self-deception. She knew exactly what Avernus was, and what he was to her. But he, at least, was honest.

tck

Before she’d found Brigit, Loriel had managed intelligence of her keep with a network of enchanted crystals. Padding invisibly around her own Keep like a thief in te night would never have served for long. The crystals studded the halls of the Keep in unassuming braziers and in decorative sconces, transmitting everything that they saw and heard to a circle of polished silver in a dedicated chamber in the Underkeep. Crystals had special properties of resonance and purity that made them excellent for conveying sound. The real challenge had been getting crystals in a size and index that suited her. They didn’t occur naturally often enough to be worth harvesting, so she had had to figure out how to make them herself, with heated water and powdered minerals and careful spells of entropy to control their growth. It was finicky business; large enough to work, small enough to not be noticed, of just the right purity. The key was blood—her blood, connecting the network to the mirror and to herself. 

The next problem was how to limit the flow of information. The Keep was just too busy to monitor all at once. She’d had the thought to fix it by keying the crystal network to particular activation words, to keep from picking up on discussion of that evening’s dinner—but even then, it was too much. Loriel had lost hours to the mirror, hypnotized by every irrelevant word and image it sent. On bad days, it was all she did.

Three chief things Loriel learned from her mirror:

First: The kitchen girl she’d so thoughtlessly forced to forget her on the first day of her new life was never quite the same afterward. She often cried for no reason, couldn’t remember whole weeks of her life, and she didn’t know why. Her dearest friend—a scullery maid—would comfort her, let her weep into her shoulder, assure her that no, she wasn’t mad, that she needn’t give herself over to the mercy of the Chantry, that surely the Maker would send relief soon. 

Loriel regretted making her forget. She would not have done it, had she known it would break her mind. But neither did she indulge her guilt and shame. What a waste that would have been. Of course Loriel had hurt her—was that not entirely expected?

She knew perfectly well what she was. 

Second: Nearly everyone in the Keep she ruled feared her. Some hated her, some revered her, some loved her, but everyone feared her. 

That Loriel was a maleficar was not exactly an open secret. The new recruits didn’t know, and the old recruits weren’t sure or bold enough to tell them outright.

But oh, there were rumors.

Some seemed convinced that she had died long ago—that her seneschal had killed her, usurped her position, and only pretended to take her directives (after all, how long had it been since anyone had seen her? On these occasions Loriel occasionally made a point to appear briefly in the great hall). Others asserted that Loriel was the usurper, that the old commander had grown too popular and beloved and had planned to betray her, and so Loriel had betrayed and killed her first. Another version had it that Loriel kept the old commander imprisoned somewhere in the depths, chained up and tormented with blood magic. And that was well related to—

Third:   People still spoke of the old commander. Anytime something went wrong— the old commander never would have allowed this. The old commander would never have allowed the patrol schedule to change so inconveniently. The old commander never would have stood for substandard breakfast offerings. The old commander wouldn’t have tolerated this. The old commander would have kept us safe. The old commander cared. Many in the Keep were very confident on what exactly the old commander thought and felt about any subject on the sun you could care to name.

The first of Vigil’s Keep wardens were the worst about it. They gathered together some nights to play cards and drink, just the three of them, and the old commander would come up. Anytime the three of them met, Loriel would be there, too, invisible, intangible, unwanted. It was almost an addiction. Oghren would tell embarrassing stories from back during the Blight, and insist that he’d taught her everything she knew about fighting. Velanna always looked vaguely angry when this happened, but she listened anyway, and even asked questions, and many times Loriel caught her suppressing a genuine laugh. They’d wonder where she was, what she was doing. Sigrun would crack a forced smile and say, probably having a great time without us. They’d laugh. They’d miss her.

Loriel had never heard anything so insulting in her life.

In the end, the crystals turned out to be a mistake. It had been a fun project, but a wasteful one. One day she shattered the viewing mirror. If she really needed it, she could always make a new one, but for now, she was done. 

You couldn’t spend your life entranced by what you couldn’t have. You just couldn’t.

Anyway—she'd found Brigit by then. Brigit ran things better than Loriel could ever hope to. If Brigit made a popular decision, the Wardens all agreed that perhaps they were on the right track after all, with the Hero of Ferelden at the helm and all. If Brigit made an unpopular decision, the Wardens muttered that the old commander would never have stood for it, and if the Hero of Ferelden knew what was happening she would surely put an end to it.

Loriel herself rarely thought of the old commander. She had too much work to do.

tck

The first to go was Oghren. It had been for his own good. The Wardens had only ever been an escape for him, an excuse to wallow in his own refuse and avoid the wife and child he had been too weak to face. Well, no more. Loriel waited until he was sober, or as close as he ever came to it, to break the news.

“Go home, Oghren,” she’d told him. “Or don’t. Lay down in the gutter and finally drink yourself to death, if that’s what you really want. You can go wherever you want, but you can’t stay here.”

He’d sputtered, protested. Demanded to know why, and why now . Weren’t the Wardens supposed to take any old sod? Didn’t she have any respect for their long friendship? He’d kept an eye on her since she was naive little mageling fresh out of the Circle (now that was a funny joke) and now she was really just going to get rid of him? Just like that?

"Just like that," she confirmed, unmoved. “You don’t belong here. You have a family.”

He swore at her, so luridly that she was almost impressed. And then he calmed down. He called her a sodding waste of space, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

She made arrangements to have him taken care of. Supplies, escorts, whatever he needed. She wasn't a monster. She tried to be good to her people, when she could. She hoped he really did go back to his wife and child, though both their names escaped her at the moment. Of course she hoped for the best for him.

But she never did end up following up, and whatever became of Oghren Kondrat, Loriel never learned it.

tck

What was really surprising was how long Sigrun stuck around.

Loriel had assumed for years that Sigrun’s presence in her life was just on the verge of ending. They hadn’t been on good terms since the Dragonbone Wastes, and these days Loriel was not on good terms with anyone at all.

And even if Sigrun was too loyal and true to simply desert, she was foolhardy. She fought like she didn’t care if she died, because she didn’t. Each morning when Brigit recited the names of the dead, Loriel waited and waited to hear Sigrun’s name. That she’d died saving a fellow Warden, or charging a group of darkspawn to give the rest of her squad time, or that she’d simply not returned.

But Sigrun was still here.

How fitting for a dead woman to haunt her Keep, one who continued not to die. If Loriel didn’t know any better, she might have even thought that Sigrun missed Oghren, though Maker only knew why. If Loriel didn’t know any better, she might have even thought that Sigrun missed her, in some strange way. Of the original Wardens of the Keep, Sigrun was the only one who occasionally knocked on Loriel’s chamber doors, tentatively calling out her name and even waiting a few minutes before giving up. 

As though Loriel would tolerate her pity.

She hated to think of her. Hated to remember that she was still there at all, accusing Loriel of wrongdoing just by existing, even though she had no right at all to judge her. Hated to remember how much of herself she saw in the dwarf when she first saw sunlight.

Finally Loriel could take it no longer, and had Sigrun transferred to the Warden fortress in Orlais. Sigrun made only a cursory attempt to say goodbye, and within a blessed month, she was gone. 

tck

Velanna was the last to go.

Velanna was not her friend. She had never liked her, and tolerated her solely because Loriel represented something that Velanna wanted—justification for what had happened to her sister. But she had understood her, in her own way. For that reason alone Loriel half-expected her loyalty.

Even so, it was not altogether surprising when it happened.

Unlike the last time, Velanna did not succeed in barging through the door. The weave of enchantments on the door was far stronger than before. And Brigit was there to intercept her.

“I said, let me through. I know for a fact that she’s in there—you were just about to go in yourself. You go in there every day, I’ve noticed.”

“I am sorry, Warden, but the Commander expressly forbids visitors who have not been cleared beforehand. If you like, I can make your request today during my daily report.”

“I don’t think so.” A burst of unfamiliar magic rattled the door. Loriel was mildly impressed. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to get the job done, but that she had managed to affect it at all was impressive.

“Alright, fine. You don’t need to let me in but I know that you can hear me, so you are going to listen, whether there is a door in the way or not.” A furious inhale. “Has some demon taken your mind and driven you mad? You are not the woman I agreed to follow.” False. Velanna had never agreed to follow her at all.

“For what purpose do you exile your friends and surround yourself with enemies? Are you ignorant or foolhardy that this Keep is now full of Chantry fools and their attack dogs?” True, but flawed. Yes, the Vigil had a great deal more Chantry-faithful, as well as former Templars, in its employ, than before. But all Ferelden was full of Chantry fools and their attack dogs. All Loriel did was permit them the opportunity to die in the name of some higher calling.

“You aren’t doing any of this for us. You care nothing for us, if you ever did. Are you even trying to cure the Blight? Perhaps you are not!”

False. Loriel was trying. Of course she was trying.

“And if I am wrong—if a lick of what I have said is not true—then open this door and call me a liar to my face, you wretched cowardly betrayef." A beat.“Well?”

It sounded like Velanna really expected her to respond to any of that.

Loriel heard a final frustrated slam against the door, hammering footsteps, and then silence.

After a time, Brigit entered, trembling and hiding it. She alone had the enchanted, invisible ring which allowed the wearer to enter.

“I apologise deeply, Commander,” she whispered. “She overpowered me with magic. I was paralyzed.”

“I’m very sorry you had to experience that, Brigit,” Loriel said flatly, not looking up from the letter she was reading. “No lasting harm done, I trust?”

Brigit collected herself and inclined her head. “No harm done.”

“Good. Then, if you might proceed with your morning report…”

Velanna disappeared that day, and didn’t return. When no one had seen her in days and it became obvious that she had deserted, Brigit pressed the issue during the morning briefing. “Do you wish her hunted down and brought to justice?”

By the ever-so-delicate crease between her eyes, Loriel guessed that this was certainly what Brigit wished.

“No. It won’t be necessary.” She paused, considering. "But if she ever tries to return, do not let her."