#that is not bread. and i don't mean this in the word “flatbread” it's the “deep fried BREAD”

[completeanduttermess]

maybe I should create healthier outlets for my emotions but. have you considered that the kid that said puri sounds American deserves to be punched

[walkswithmyfather]

“The Festival of Unleavened Bread, which is also called Passover, was approaching. The leading priests and teachers of religious law were plotting how to kill Jesus, but they were afraid of the people’s reaction.

Then Satan entered into Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve disciples, and he went to the leading priests and captains of the Temple guard to discuss the best way to betray Jesus to them. They were delighted, and they promised to give him money. So he agreed and began looking for an opportunity to betray Jesus so they could arrest him when the crowds weren’t around.

Now the Festival of Unleavened Bread arrived, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed. Jesus sent Peter and John ahead and said, “Go and prepare the Passover meal, so we can eat it together.” “Where do you want us to prepare it?” they asked him. He replied, “As soon as you enter Jerusalem, a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you. Follow him. At the house he enters, say to the owner, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’ He will take you upstairs to a large room that is already set up. That is where you should prepare our meal. They went off to the city and found everything just as Jesus had said, and they prepared the Passover meal there.

When the time came, Jesus and the apostles sat down together at the table. Jesus said, “I have been very eager to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins. For I tell you now that I won’t eat this meal again until its meaning is fulfilled in the Kingdom of God.” Then he took a cup of wine and gave thanks to God for it. Then he said, “Take this and share it among yourselves. For I will not drink wine again until the Kingdom of God has come.” He took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”

After supper he took another cup of wine and said, “This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood, which is poured out as a sacrifice for you.

“But here at this table, sitting among us as a friend, is the man who will betray me. For it has been determined that the Son of Man must die. But what sorrow awaits the one who betrays him.” —Luke 22:1‭-‬22 (NLT)

“Easter Explained: An 8-Day Guide to Celebrating Holy Week.” A Devotional By Spoken Gospel - Day 5: “Maundy Thursday”:

“For the last 1,600 years, Christians around the world remember the last days of Jesus' life during Holy Week. Today is Maundy Thursday. 'Maundy' comes from a Latin word that means “covenant.” Maundy Thursday remembers the day Jesus shared a final meal with his disciples and gave them a new covenant.

So far, each of Jesus' final days has made it increasingly clear that he intends to tear down the current religious order and inaugurate a new Kingdom. The religious establishment has been looking for a way to kill Jesus for this message, and Judas, one of Jesus' own disciples, has just volunteered to betray his teacher (Luke 22:4-6). And on the first day of Passover, Judas decides to betray Jesus with a kiss.

Passover was a Jewish feast that reenacted how God rescued his people out of slavery in Egypt. God promised that if his people sacrificed a lamb, painted its blood above and around their doors, and then ate the slaughtered lamb with flatbread, he would free them (Exodus 12:1-10). God made good on this covenant when, after the meal, an angel came and killed the firstborn sons of Pharaoh and anyone else who defied God's plans to free his people. But after the death of the firstborn, God's people were freed from Egyptian power and soon became their own kingdom.

Jesus tells his disciples to make preparations to celebrate this day (Luke 22:7-13). But while eating the lamb and bread and drinking some wine, Jesus redirects the meaning of those symbols. According to Jesus, they don't just look back to a past act of salvation but forward to a new one. Jesus took the bread and said, “'This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.' In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:19-20). God's covenant on the first Passover promised freedom and a Kingdom on the other side of a sacrificed lamb and a dead firstborn. And at the same meal Jesus makes a new covenant and promises that by the sacrificed body and blood of God's firstborn, God's people will be freed once again. But first they must accept, eat, and drink his body and blood.

A lot happens after this moment. Judas leaves dinner to betray Jesus. The disciples argue about who is the best leader. Jesus goes to a nearby garden to pray and briefly asks God to take away the responsibility of being the bloody cup he has just offered. Judas returns with a mob that drags Jesus to a Jewish court. The disciples scatter. Peter, the head disciple, denies he even knows his Master. Then the religious establishment condemns Jesus as a heretic and beats him until the sun rises.

But Maundy Thursday is good news because Jesus announces that the darkness and disappointment of these final hours will lead to freedom and a Kingdom. Just as bread cannot be eaten until it's broken and wine cannot be drunk unless it's poured, a covenant cannot be made without blood. As we've said before, 'Maundy' comes from a Latin word that means covenant. And on this day Jesus promises that he will bear the cost for our covenant of freedom. Just as Israel was freed from slavery by the blood of a lamb, we are freed from slavery by Jesus' blood. He is the firstborn son who was lost so that we are no longer captive to this world's powers, temptations, sins, and consequences. Because of Maundy Thursday we are free citizens of Jesus' new eternal Kingdom.

So I pray that on this Maundy Thursday you will accept Jesus' body and blood as a new covenant - God's promise to free you and bring you into his Kingdom.”

[twentyyearstoolate]

You stumble around in the dark, desperately feeling around for an escape route. The beast is hot on your trail, you can hear it snorting and stomping as it pursues you. You come to a dead end, and you see the light of a lantern round the corner behind you. No way out.

Exhausted and defeated, you collapse in the corner, curling into a ball as you await the end. The sound of hooves on stone draws nearer, and between your arms you see a dim glow. You hold yourself tightly, fighting tears.

"You can get up. I'm not going to hurt you."

You look up. Looming before you is the fabled Minotaur, but... only somewhat like described in the stories. It carries a lantern, and wears a cloak and tunic. It bears the face of a bull, but stands upright and looks you over as best it can, head turned to one side.

"You... don't appear to be hurt. Are you thirsty? Hungry? I think I have some bread left."

You find yourself unable to answer as it shuffles around in its pack. It fishes a crust of flatbread and a bota from a satchel. It holds both out in one hand, just within your reach. Slowly, you reach out and take both, drinking first, then eating.

The Minotaur gives a cursory glance down the hallway before sitting down against the wall opposite. For a second, you consider bolting away, but you put it out of your head - you're still exhausted, and the minotaur looks barely winded. You wouldn't get far.

The minotaur watches you cautiously. You wonder what it might be thinking. Perhaps it's trying to trick you, lull you into a false sense of security - so it doesn't have to carry its meal back to its lair. That must be it. It-

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"Your name. You do have one, yes?"

"I, uh... Nikitas."

"Nikitas." The minotaur nods. "It's good to meet you, Nikitas."

You arch an eyebrow.

"You seemed... lost in your head. I get a lot down here like that." It begins to say something else, but hesitates.

"What?"

"...Why did they put you in here?" It immediately looks away. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

You ponder the situation that you're in. The legendary bull-man that eats prisoners has just retracted a question about your crimes, supposedly in consideration of your feelings. A strange thing to do for someone you're planning on eating... But every second you're talking is a second you're not being led away to be eaten.

"Theft."

"Just theft?"

"I... stole from an aristori. To feed my family."

The minotaur nods again. "That makes more sense. I've been hearing some... unrest from above, lately. Bad crop this year, and the Bulgar raids are putting pressure on the city's finances."

Every word of this conversation baffles you more. The beast keeps up with current events?

The minotaur stands up. You cringe, reflexively, but it takes a step back. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm really not going to hurt you. I can show you to an exit, but the nearest one is a day away at least, and you don't know the labyrinth like I do. I won't stop you if you want to run, but... please don't?" It holds out a hand.

You hesitate. Your instincts tell you to run from the beast, but... there's a pleading in its eyes, and its voice. And it's right. You're just going to get lost again, and the promise of an exit, however slim, is better than wandering around in the dark, waiting to starve to death. You take its hand and stand. It turns to leave the corridor and you follow, a couple meters back, as the minotaur leads on.

---

After about half an hour, you come to a room with a tall ceiling, and light streaking down from above. You can't tell from how far up. The minotaur sets its lantern down and sifts through a patch of dirt or muck, on the ground just outside of the light. Its hand closes on something solid. Slowly, it pulls out a fork, caked in dirt.

"Nikitas. Any water left in that skin?"

You hand the bota back to the minotaur. It dribbles just enough out of the bag to rub the dirt off, then just a little more to rinse the fork mostly clean. It pockets the fork, and continues onward.

As the two of you walk, your curiosity gets the better of you. "You... collect forks?"

The minotaur snorts. "I collect everything."

You pause a moment, looking the creature over as you walk.

"How long have you been... down here?"

"A long time. Decades. I don't really keep track."

A long silence. The minotaur breaks it.

"We're here. Hold on a moment."

The minotaur shifts a brick in the wall. The grinding of gears can be heard as the wall pulls itself apart, revealing a well-lit room. Inside, a figure sits beside a fire burning low under an old cookpot with something bubbling inside. Crudely constructed shelves line the walls, filled with odds and ends. Silverware, pots and plates. Jewelery, coins, a couple ingots. Earthen jars, glass bottles, patches of cloth and balls of string. Fishhooks, knives and hand tools. A stack of books, children's toys, and dolls. Two simple beds sit against the other side of the room. The figure rises - an old woman who gives a warm smile.

"Silas! You're back! And you've found a new friend!"

Of all the things you were expecting to see in the minotaur's den, another human was perhaps dead last on the list. The minotaur steps in, the wall folding up behind it. "Nikitas, this is Demetra. Demetra, Nikitas. How's dinner shaping up? Are we low on anything?"

"Oh, pretty well, although it'll stretch a little thin with a guest." She turns back to the cookpot. "There are still turnips and lentils left in the garden, and we've got plenty enough barley, but we could maybe do with more olives, or even a little oil. Could probably stretch another two weeks before we have to go topside, but it'll get a mite bland."

The minotaur sorts through its findings on a table nearby. "I suppose it's just as well, we may have a reason to be headed that way. But we can talk about that later." It pulls three mismatched bowls and spoons from the shelf, and sets them down by the fire.

You sit and stare in at the pot, dumbfounded by everything that's unfolded over the last hour, as the other two fill their bowls. The old woman starts to take a bite, but stops as she looks you over.

"Silas?"

"Mmm?"

"How much did you explain to our friend here? He seems a little... glazed over."

"We haven't talked much. I only found him just an hour ago."

"Oh for pity's sake, he probably still thinks you're going to eat him, Silas!"

"What?"

"The stories, Silas!"

"Oh. Right." It looks sheepish, or as sheepish as a bull can look. "Sorry."

She turns to you. "Look. I know what they told you about this place and what lives in it, but believe me, you're safe here. He may look ferocious, but he's a big softie at heart. He doesn't even eat meat, you know? I mean, if he did, I'd have probably been gobbled up ages ago."

It's hard to refute the logic of that argument. And you don't see any bones or gore around. In fact, this place is homier than your own home.

"Then how, or what..." You struggle to find the words. Silas speaks up.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning, or at least the stuff that's true. Long long ago, my mother Queen Pasiphaë gave birth to... well, to me, I guess. A child with a bull's head. If it was because of a god's curse, I wouldn't be able to tell you. She loved me, but King Minos didn't. He called me an... abomination. I was forbidden from ever leaving the palace, and the servants were not allowed near the wing I was kept in, but mother did her best to raise me on her own."

"But she fell ill when I was seven, and a year later she passed. The king would have killed me but for the fear of the Gods' retribution. Instead, he got it in his head to have an inventor named Daedalus build a labyrinth that would keep me trapped until I died, and that way it'd be fate that killed me, not him, if the Gods care about technicalities. Besides the king and queen, he was the only one to ever see me outside of this labyrinth. He took pity on me. He couldn't defy the king, but he built the labyrinth in a way that a being could live comfortably here. There are streams and patches of fertile ground in the floors beneath that get enough air and light to grow some simple crops, and rooms like this one that serve as housing, that were hidden away from the King's eyes come inspection time. He did the best he could to ensure I wouldn't die in here."

"But, of course, you can only get so far with a building, even one as big and complex as this one. I wasn't allowed to take anything from the palace in with me, not even the clothes on my back. They threw me in here, naked as the day I was born, and locked the gates behind me. I guess the people who questioned it were fed some story about a savage beast that kills and eats people, and the King capitalized on that legend by turning it into a punishment for criminals."

"Ever since then, about every other month or so as I'm looking around for whatever's fallen from the streets and grates above, I've been finding people that get lost in the corridors, and I try to help them get to one of the exits, where the walls have failed. In a way, you're kind of lucky - you were making a lot of noise, most of the people I find are dead already. But I sort of... forget that I look like this, and that I have a reputation that precedes me. I mean, it's quite easy for that to slip your mind when you've been down here your whole life."

You take in the minotaur's tale. You feel pity, and a little guilt for not believing him sooner. As you mull it over, your stew nearly untouched, another question crosses your mind. You look to Demetra, who seems to have anticipated your ask.

"About sixteen years ago, I was thrown in here for fratricide - maybe you remember the gossip about the madwoman who strangled her brother in a fit of rage. I dunno, you're a little young for that, maybe. Anyway, as it turns out, my sister-in-law wanted us both out of the picture to inherit his vineyards, so she did the deed herself and pinned it on me, and everyone believed her story, even my own kids."

"I didn't have the heart to fight it. I said nothing at the trial, and they decided I should be thrown in the labyrinth for my heinous act. I didn't care. They shut the gate behind me and I started walking. And I just sat in a corner and cried, bawled my eyes out. And Silas here heard me, and I heard him, and he tries to calm me down but when I saw him I was convinced that the Gods themselves had it in for me, so I just said 'I don't want to live anymore, just eat me.'"

"And he starts laughing and tells me he doesn't eat meat, and well, that just cemented the idea that the Gods had it in for me, with the whole cruel irony bit, so I just cried harder, and the big lug feels bad about laughing so you know what he does? He says 'sorry' and hands me a doll he found, and asks if he can take me back to where its safe."

"And I'm scared, and tired, and hungry, and he's the only one that's shown me a lick of kindness over the whole ordeal, so I figure what the hell, it's not like it can get any worse, right? And he's doing his damnedest to cheer me up, so he shows me his collection of trinkets and such-" She gestures over to the shelves. "-and asks me if I like them, and I turn to him and just absolutely unload about everything that's happened, and by the time I'm done, I just want to puke I'm so upset. I wake up the next morning and he's put me up in his bed and he's curled up over by a cold fire, shaking like a leaf."

"Well, one thing led to another, and I didn't really have anything to go back to up there, so when he asks me if I'm ready to make the journey to the exit, I just say no, and he gives me this look like I just sprouted antlers, and I tell him I'm staying here and he can't get rid of me, and that's that."

Silas chimes in. "I was very grateful for the company. I still am."

Demetra gives him a playful brush on the shoulder. "I'm sure the cooking and the patch jobs on your clothes don't hurt either." She turns back to you. "What about you, then? How'd you end up down here?"

"I... took something of value from one of the aristori. A bracelet, made of gold. I fenced it off to feed my family, and there was enough left over to get us out of the city, to start a new life. But they caught me the next day. The bracelet was long gone, and the money was hidden with my wife. The punishment for theft is lesser, usually, but I refused to tell them where I had stashed the drachma. The nobleman was... very angry." A pause. "...You mentioned there was an exit?"

"A day's walk, south of here." The minotaur stands. "We can leave in the morning - It is difficult to navigate by lamplight alone. Do you play Tavli?"

"I, uh... not very well. It's been a while."

He cracks a smile. At least, you think it's a smile. You've never seen a bull smile before. "We'll go easy on you, then."

Silas retrieves a board and a bag of stones from the shelves. Demetra pulls a wineskin and some cups from a cupboard. You grab the stools from around the fire. The three of you gather at the table - just a boulder, mostly flat on top, but it suffices.

You pass the evening playing and drinking, taking turns playing rounds. It's a little difficult to keep track of whose pieces are whose; some of the stones have been replaced with rounded pieces of scrap wood or metal. You still feel tense - It's been a long time since you've been able to sit and relax like this. Most nights, you and your family keep dead quiet - the guard doesn't take kindly to squatters.

Silas tells stories of some of the others who found themselves trapped in the labyrinth. An old man, branded a heretic for questioning divine provenance. A serial killer who broke his leg escaping from the guard. A young girl who squeezed through a gap in the bars. Those who trusted, and were rescued. Those who didn't, and were found dead days later. Stories of windfalls from above, little treasures, fallen through the cracks. Of landmarks in the labyrinth, that made it feel like more than a prison. Like home.

Eventually, you're unable to keep your eyes open. You awake in one of the straw beds, tucked in comfortably with a patchwork blanket. Demetra rests in the other. Silas is at the fire, preparing breakfast. You approach him.

"Sleep well?"

"Best I've slept in a long time." You look into the pot. A simple porridge, but enough for the three of you. "I'm sorry. I never did thank you for... well, for everything."

"It's fine. You were scared. Everyone is."

"All the same." You look around. The room is cozy, but you want for the open sky and the breeze on your face. Your family. Your home.

Silas tends to the fire. He seems... sad? It's hard to tell. Occasionally he glances up at you, then back to the pot. It's uncomfortably quiet. You can't help but ask a question.

"...Do you ever think about leaving this place? Do you miss the surface?"

"I-" Silas looks into the pot. He seems to have had an answer, but he can't settle on it. For a long time, he doesn't respond. Then, a sigh:

"I do. A little bit. I'm only ever outside for a few minutes at a time, when the lost depart. It's... nice. But a little uncomfortable. I know these passages like the back of my hand. Out there..." He shakes his head. "Besides, somebody needs to stay and rescue the people who get trapped in here. The labyrinth is... unkind to outsiders."

He taps the spoon on the side of the pot gently. Demetra joins the circle, and the three of you eat. Silas shoulders a pack and a few skins of water. Demetra retrieves a handful of coins and valuables from the shelf. You pack what little you have, and the three of you set out.

Even with the glimpses of morning light that stream in through the cracks here and there, it is difficult to see in the labyrinth. Silas guides the two of you this way and that. At points, it seems like you're doubling back the way you came. The three of you tell more stories to pass the time. You talk about your family - your wife, who spends her days begging, and your kids playing in the alleys. How the four of you move between abandoned buildings and ruins every night to avoid being caught. You talk of starting a farm on the outskirts of the country, a new, better life.

---

Eventually, you see a hole in the wall facing out to a beach, the mortar weakened by seawater and the bricks pulled loose, creating a gap large enough to step through. The three of you step out. You enjoy the feeling of the evening sun and the salty breeze. Demetra takes a moment to find a path leading back toward the city. Silas sits on a patch of grass, passing his fingers idly through the tufts. You thank him again as the two of you head inland.

The sun sets and the moonlight shines down as you walk. A passing cart offers the two of you a ride into town, and you gratefully accept. You look at Demetra. She seems troubled. She notices you staring, and relents.

"Silas is a good man. I'm happier with him down there than I ever was up here. But he deserves better than that prison, and I know he wants out. He'll never leave as long as people keep ending up down there, and he's afraid of what people will say, what they'll do if they see him."

"It's funny - I've long lost my faith in the Gods, in spite of living with proof of their existence. They're not worth worshiping; No loving Gods put a kind soul like that through this hell. But... I still pray, every night, silly old woman that I am, that Silas will get the life he deserves. I do my best to make him comfortable and keep him company, but it's not enough. He needs out."

She puts a hand on your shoulder. "I don't ask everyone who leaves, most are just happy to be out, but I heard you two talking. You're one of the few who spared a thought for him. Once you're settled, drop by the exit once in a while, would you? The big guy likes having company that isn't scared half to death of him, to say nothing of a reason to poke his head back out of the maze."

You nod, quietly. Demetra slips a pouch into your hand, full of coins. "I figured you could use a little extra help. I've got more for our own needs, and it's not like we've got anything to spend it on down there."

The two of you reach the city gates. You thank her again, and slip off towards the safety of your hiding spot. Your wife is shocked to see you, and you embrace warmly. You recount the events of the last two days, and your family can scarcely believe you, but You rest, and in the morning you use the money you have to buy a cart and some oxen, as well as some supplies - seeds, feed, tools, and other essentials. You travel south of the city, a couple days, until you find a suitable hill, well away from civilization - nobody will find you here, and nobody will think to look for a dead man.

It is an arduous process - you spend the spring clearing the trees from the property to build a cabin, the summer planting and tending to crops, and the fall harvesting and preparing for the winter. You've dedicated a lot of land to an olive garden, that you hope will bear fruit in the third year. In the winter, when you have the time, you take a trip back to the labyrinth's exit, leaving a note asking to meet in two weeks' time. You return to find Silas and Demetra waiting for you, welcoming you with open arms. You share stories and talk about the farm, and your family.

Silas is sad to see you off the next day, but you tell him you'll be back as soon as possible, and he gives you a hug for the journey home. The next time you return, in the spring, you bring your family along. They are cautious, at first, but they quickly warm up to the couple - Silas turns out to be great with kids, and sends them home with the toys he finds. The children ask constantly when they can see Uncle Silas again. You visit as often as you can, but the farm keeps you busy, especially as the trees begin to come in.

---

In five years' time, your olive garden begins to flourish, and you find yourself with an abundance of produce, more than you can handle. When you don't have time for longer visits, you leave jars of preserves and oil at the entrance with a note for the two inhabitants of the labyrinth. When you return, you always find toys and trinkets with a thankful letter. Demetra writes about others who were led out of the dungeon, and how Silas stays a little longer at the entrance each time, hoping that maybe he'll get lucky and find you on your way in - long enough the last time that she convinced him to spend the day on the beach with a picnic spread, turning it into a date.

Late in the fall, you're on your way to the city to sell olives, when suddenly a great earthquake rocks the land. You get to your feet and continue through the gates, offloading your wares and offering assistance where you can. As the day wanes, you hear talk among the citizens - the cave face around the entrance to the labyrinth has collapsed. Dark thoughts race through your head. You finish your business as quickly as you can and drive your cart to the labyrinth exit. You hesitate at the dark, and the sound of falling bricks, but you think of the poor couple, and against your better judgement, you grab a lantern, heading in.

Several corridors are choked with rubble. It's difficult to pass through some, and impossible to squeeze through others. You call out frantically for Silas and Demetra, fearing the worst. All the while, you're getting hopelessly lost. You begin to worry that the labyrinth will claim three today, but you press on, working your way as best you remember towards the house. Minutes turn into hours. Your voice hoarse, you collapse, and begin to sob.

A call rings out from the dark. "Nikitas?"

You look up, and see a dim light around a corner behind you. You stand and round it, and you see Silas and Demetra, a little worse for the wear. You embrace each other warmly.

"Are you alright?! I was so worried, the quake-"

"There were some cave-ins, but we're alright. How did you make it so far in?"

You croak out: "I don't know, I sort of remembered the way, but then I got lost and just kept running and shouting."

Silas nods. "At least one path to the exit, then. That's good - A number of the tunnels are blocked. I've managed to clear a few, but from what I've seen, the damage is extensive."

Silas begins to lead back the way you came as you explain. "The entrance has caved in too. People in the city were talking about it. I feared for your safety."

Demetra offers a consolation. "...No more prisoners, then."

Silas looks up. For the first time since you've known him, he seems... confused. Lost? No, he knows the way well enough. Something else.

"Silas? Demetra?"

Silas' concentration breaks, and they turn to look at you. "Hmm? Sorry. Just..."

"Do you want to come with me, to live on the farm? It's out in the countryside, and we've got plenty of room. I could use a few extra hands, the harvests have kept me so busy. And, you know, the kids really miss you two."

She smiles. His eyes light up, but he turns away. "Well, I... don't want to impose."

Demetra jabs him in the arm. "He means 'Yes, we'd love to, and thank you Nikitas, that's a very generous offer.' Right? Right."

He smiles as he shrugs, rubbing his shoulder. "Well, that's that, I suppose."

The three of you make your way back to the exit. Silas has a spring in his step you've never seen before, and his tail swishes in the oddest way. It seems a much shorter trip this time, before you catch sight of the familiar passage to the exit. The three of you take in the night air, before you quickly load up into the wagon and set off for the farm.

---

The evening sun sets on a hill laden with olive trees, filled with little white blossoms that sway gently in the wind, a few petals drifting away every time it picks up. Silas is hunched over a garden bed, a bag of seeds in hand, as he carefully packs the dirt over each hole. Demetra tells the children a story as you and your wife finish preparing dinner. You see Silas stand up and wipe his brow, satisfied with his work. You step out to look over the garden.

"Dinner's almost ready. How're you coming along?"

"Just about done with the dill, and then it's finished." He looks back over the orchard, and smiles. "The flowers get more beautiful every time I look at them."

"Gonna be a good harvest this year. The next few months will be very busy. I'm off to the market tomorrow to get the lye. Do you need anything?"

"No, no, I... well, there is one thing, maybe?"

"Name it."

He seems almost reluctant to ask. "I could use a... a hat. One that fits around my horns." He tries to explain. "Not just to wear, the sun is a lot brighter than I remember as the days get longer. My eyes are having trouble adjusting. It's been a long time."

"Oh my gosh, of course, I'll see what I can find, if nothing else we can cut holes in one, we'll make it work. Anything else?"

"No, everything else is good. Great, even. I, uh..." He stammers awkwardly. "Thank you." He suddenly pulls you into a hug, and you feel a couple drops on your shoulder. He stifles great big sobs through his muzzle, trying not to make too much noise. "Thank you so much."

"Hey, hey, it's okay big guy." You pat him reassuringly. "Without you I wouldn't even be here, you know? I ought to be thanking you."

"I still can't believe it, after so long in the dark, it feels like a dream. This is perfect, and beautiful, and more than I could ever have imagined for myself." More great big tears. "Thank you." He gives you another hug.

You let Silas collect himself, and the two of you step inside. A fire crackles warmly, and everyone gathers around the table to eat. The sound of laughter and cheer fills the house. The last few streaks of sun fall over the hills as the smoke trills up into the starry night.

As punishment for your crimes you are thrown into the Labyrinth to be a living sacrifice to the Minotaur that lives inside. However nobody seemed to put together that since he is half bull; the Minotaur is actually a vegetarian.

[jesusismyredeemer]

Jesus

For the last 1,600 years, Christians around the world remember the last days of Jesus' life during Holy Week. Today is Maundy Thursday. 'Maundy' comes from a Latin word that means "covenant." Maundy Thursday remembers the day Jesus shared a final meal with his disciples and gave them a new covenant.

So far, each of Jesus' final days has made it increasingly clear that he intends to tear down the current religious order and inaugurate a new Kingdom. The religious establishment has been looking for a way to kill Jesus for this message, and Judas, one of Jesus' own disciples, has just volunteered to betray his teacher (Luke 22:4-6). And on the first day of Passover, Judas decides to betray Jesus with a kiss.

Passover was a Jewish feast that reenacted how God rescued his people out of slavery in Egypt. God promised that if his people sacrificed a lamb, painted its blood above and around their doors, and then ate the slaughtered lamb with flatbread, he would free them (Exodus 12:1-10). God made good on this covenant when, after the meal, an angel came and killed the firstborn sons of Pharaoh and anyone else who defied God's plans to free his people. But after the death of the firstborn, God's people were freed from Egyptian power and soon became their own kingdom.

Jesus tells his disciples to make preparations to celebrate this day (Luke 22:7-13). But while eating the lamb and bread and drinking some wine, Jesus redirects the meaning of those symbols. According to Jesus, they don't just look back to a past act of salvation but forward to a new one. Jesus took the bread and said, ''This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.' In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you'' (Luke 22:19-20). God's covenant on the first Passover promised freedom and a Kingdom on the other side of a sacrificed lamb and a dead firstborn. And at the same meal Jesus makes a new covenant and promises that by the sacrificed body and blood of God's firstborn, God's people will be freed once again. But first they must accept, eat, and drink his body and blood.

A lot happens after this moment. Judas leaves dinner to betray Jesus. The disciples argue about who is the best leader. Jesus goes to a nearby garden to pray and briefly asks God to take away the responsibility of being the bloody cup he has just offered. Judas returns with a mob that drags Jesus to a Jewish court. The disciples scatter. Peter, the head disciple, denies he even knows his Master. Then the religious establishment condemns Jesus as a heretic and beats him until the sun rises.

But Maundy Thursday is good news because Jesus announces that the darkness and disappointment of these final hours will lead to freedom and a Kingdom. Just as bread cannot be eaten until it's broken and wine cannot be drunk unless it's poured, a covenant cannot be made without blood. As we've said before, 'Maundy' comes from a Latin word that means covenant. And on this day Jesus promises that he will bear the cost for our covenant of freedom. Just as Israel was freed from slavery by the blood of a lamb, we are freed from slavery by Jesus' blood. He is the firstborn son who was lost so that we are no longer captive to this world's powers, temptations, sins, and consequences. Because of Maundy Thursday we are free citizens of Jesus' new eternal Kingdom.

So I pray that on this Maundy Thursday you will accept Jesus' body and blood as a new covenant - God's promise to free you and bring you into his Kingdom.

[zelk0va]

Akuneko (AKNK) Event Story, "White Worship", Chapter 7: A Lavish Feast

Servant: Esteemed guests of the Portrair family, I have brought you your supper for tonight.

No sooner had the servant uttered those words than they began to bring in giant plates of food into the room.

In an instant, a large selection of food was arranged in front of us.

Nac: The sight of all these dishes is making me dizzy... Lucas: They all look absolutely delectable. Servant: For tonight's supper, we have prepared for you some traditional Portrair cuisine. Servant: Firstly, we have soupeh jo, a soup made from chicken and barley. Servant: Next, we have gheimeh stew, consisting of mutton meat, tomato, and beans simmered in spices such as saffron and cumin... Servant: And finally, we have naan, which is a staple in the diet of the Southern Land. Servant: Tonight, you have two different types of naan to chose from: lavash, a thinner bread, and barbari, a thicker flatbread.

>There's a whole lot more food apart from this, too... >They all look so amazing...

Servant: To continue, there is also... Nac: Y-You don't need to explain any further. Nac: But, may we really partake in this generous amount of food? Servant: Lord Shakir has instructed us to provide you all with the utmost hospitality. Servant: Should you find yourself in need of something, we are at your service. Servant: Now then, please enjoy your meal.

With that said, the servant then quietly left the room.

Nac: Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would be treated to such a feast. Lucas: Just being able to eat this cuisine makes crossing the desert worth it. Lucas: Master, please do start eating ahead of us.

>Why don't we all eat together?

Nac: No, Master, it wouldn't be right for us butlers to eat together with you...

>But then the food's gonna get all cold! >But I want all of us to enjoy the food...

Nac: Yes, I understand, but... Lucas: Thank you, Master. That's very kind of you. Well, then, please don't mind we do. Nac: L-Lucas?! Lucas: The Master is so kindly inviting us to join them. Don't you think it would rude for us to decline? Nac: Y-You make a good point, but... Lucas: I heard that you it's customary to sit down on the floor as you eat here in the Southern Land. Lucas: Here, Master. Have a seat.

>Thank you >Alright, guess I'll sit here

Lucas: You, too, Nac. Come now... Nac: Ah, please, wait a moment, Lucas--! Lucas: Hehehe. Getting to sit at a dinner table along with the Master is such a novel feeling. Nac: I can't quiet get used to it...

>Relax a bit, Nac >No need to be so tense...

Nac: I doubt there is a butler who wouldn't tense up at the thought of sitting beside their Master... Lucas: Well then, Master, let's start eating. Lucas: Before that ravenous little Muu comes back...

(footsteps)

Muu: Wahh! Muu: I thought I smelled something delicious coming from this room! Seems like my nose didn't fail me!

>Muu?! >We've been found!

Lucas: Ah, speak of the devil... Muu: Why are you the two sitting around the table with the Master? Lucas: The Master said they wanted to have dinner together. Lucas: Our Master is so kind, aren't they? Lucas: Where's Lamli, by the way? Lamli: Here I am~! Did you call for me, Sir Lucas? Lucas: Oh good, you made it back safely. Lucas: But, what's that you've got in your arms, Lamli? Nac: It looks like a bottle...Could it be a bottle of wine? Lamli: Mm-hmm! I found it while I was exploring the palace! Lamli: There were so many wines that I thought you'd enjoy, Sir Lucas, so I got one for us! Nac: Lamli, don't tell me you stole this bottle of wine! Lamli: "Stealing" is such an ugly word! C'mon, I didn't steal anything. Lamli: I'll have you know I made sure to check with a servant before I took it. Muu: But, Lamli, in the beginning you took it without asking at all... Muu: You "checked" with a servant after you caught, didn't you? Lamli: I mean, I got their approval in the end, so we don't need to sweat all the small details! Lucas: Lamli, haven't I warned you not to act on impulse? Lamli: Y-Yes, you have, and I'm aware... Lamli: But it was a wine I knew you were going to love, so I just had to bring it to you! Nac: Goodness...Lamli's loyalty to Lucas is truly remarkable. Nac: However, Lamli... Lamli: Ugh, what is it now? Still got something you wanna complain about? Nac: Tell me, what exactly do you plan to do with this sheer amount wine you've brought over? Lamli: Isn't it obvious? Lamli: We're gonna have a feast tonight!

* * *

←Chapter 6 Chapter 8→

[thevikingwoman]

(Talesfromthefade) Goldenrod, marketplace, the gloaming, streetlights?

Thank you! This is a very old prompt, but I'll use it to follow up on an even older story :P. For @dadrunkwriting.

Set after Dirt, where Solas proposes to Iwyn while visiting her clan after they reunited. For those who don't know, Branwen is Iwyn's little brother.

Fandom: Dragon Age. Words: 685

Solas x Iwyn Lavellan, Iwyn Lavellan & Raina Lavellan | post-reunion | romance, friendship Rating: G. Love, family, friendship.

Soar

“So, how you doing? Really doing, Iwyn?”

Raina puts their drinks down, and sits down across from Iwyn. The table, tucked away in a corner of the marketplace, was miraculously empty when Iwyn found it. Solas is off getting their food, leaving Raina and Iwyn alone. That was probably on purpose, though Iwyn isn’t sure if Raina or Solas orchestrated it.

“I’m good, Raina. Everything has calmed down a little. I still get invitations for Orlesian nobles, or the Enchanters College, or something else, but Skyhold is thriving. We have had so many elves come to live and work there.”

She’s proud of the work she’s done, leveraging her influence to create a free city, for Dalish and City Elves both. Humans, Tal-Vashoth and dwarves are welcome too, but mostly it’s a place where no one should live in fear.

Raina takes a sip of her beer.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean it’s good, Iwyn, it’s great. I’m going to visit and all, but how are you? And you know…”

Raina tosses her head towards the market’s food stalls, her curls flying about her head.

“Solas.”

“Yeah. The guy who left you, leaving you angry and depressed and I don’t know what, in a way I’ve never seen before. And who apparently is the thing the Keeper; all the Hahrens, warn us all about.”

“Solas is not a thing.”

“You know what I mean, and don’t deflect.”

“I was fine, it was – we needed to work things out.”

“You might have fooled everyone else, but I know you Iwyn. I’ve known you forever. You weren’t really calm.”

Raina reaches across the table, and squeezes her hand.

“If you’re that good at knowing me, then you should know we’re good now. It’s good.” Iwyn glances across the bustle of Wycome Market, elves and humans mostly, but others too. Solas is a shadow in the twilight, bald head and broad shoulders, waiting for their Antivan flatbreads. “As for the Dread Wolf thing – even after everything, it’s hard to understand. Living, sleeping, for so long. I don’t expect it will be easy for others. I just want to protect him.”

“Oh, Iwyn.” Raina threads her fingers through Iwyn’s. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to him. As long as he doesn’t hurt you again, of course.”

“Thank you.” She pauses. Somehow it shouldn’t feel like a big deal, when they’ve chosen this path together in so many other ways, but somehow it is. “Solas asked me to marry him. Last night.”

“What? Are you serious? What did you say? Did you tell anyone? Congratulations! When is the wedding?”

Iwyn laughs, happiness bubbling through her. She agreed with Solas not to talk to anyone yet, but Raina is her oldest friend, and while she knows she will win her family over, it might take a little work. She’s happy to have Raina in her corner.

“I did say yes, and we didn’t tell anyone, yet, and I’ve no idea. About the wedding.”

“Yay!” Raina launches herself halfway across the table, embracing Iwyn. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Hello? The food is ready.” Solas puts down the flatbread, mouthwatering smell of tomato and basil and bread around them.

“Congratulations!” Raina exclaims.

“Ah. Thank you.”

“I told her,” Iwyn says. She kisses his cheek.

“Mmm, I’m starving.” Raina pulls a slice of bread from the tray and takes a bite. Brandishing the piece at Solas, she continues when she’s done chewing. “If you hurt her again, I’ll chase you across the void, Dread Wolf.”

“Noted.”

They eat for a while, enjoying the food.

“So you haven’t told Branwen, yet? Or your parents?”

“No. They’ll come around though,” Iwyn says.

“Maybe we can send a letter?” Solas asks.

“No,” Iwyn says.

“Don’t worry. You got me in your corner now,” Raina says.

“Thank you, Raina.”

Behind them, the lamplighter uses his magic on the streetlights as they sputter to life. Iwyn kisses Solas again, and he blushes. Life continues around them, laughter and beer and somewhere someone plays a fiddle. No one pays any heed to three elves sharing a meal.

[sir-virtem]

all those post about the elven crappy cake rubs me in the wrong way, mostly because I like nut cakes, but okay, the comment of this cake being the elven's stable make me thought about it

what if elven cake don't actually refer to a nut cake but rather a bread with nuts?

is common at some languages for the words cake and bread to be interchangable or directly to change meaning, an example is torta than in latin means bread but in most language means cake today, and in spanish it's diminutive, tortilla, which means pancake or omelette, but also flatbread, like ash bread or maize flatbread which is how is understand in english, also for mexicans torta refer some large sandwich, same apply to biscoctus, hardtack in latin, that shift into cookie in most language... except spanish in which means sponge cake

I wouldn't be surprised that the elven cake nut was original just bread made of/with nuts and with time became in what is now, like went in oppose direction to the christstollen, which originally was the crappy nut cake consume in fast days (no milk or butter allowed)

I think my favorite tidbit about elf culture in dungeon meshi is that they always offer people cake. All the time. “Do you want some cake?”

like I wonder how that became part of their culture. They don’t seem super hospitable to other races, but maybe with other elves it’s considered part of socializing to just… offer cake… Like how a grandma constantly piles food on your plate. BUT ITS NOT EVEN GOOD

Is that nasty ass crumbly nut cake such a staple that they always have it on hand? Even Fleki offers cake to Kabru— so maybe it’s not a ‘being polite’ thing but more of just what they do. That’s just what ya do, that’s how u were raised as an elf. Cake.

[martykatewrites]

The Mummy: Chptr 3 The White Skies of the Desert

Early the next morning, she found Ardeth-Bey sitting at the table eating breakfast. When she sat down, he poured her a cup of coffee and pushed the basket of flatbread towards her.

"Eat," he commanded and took another strip of lamp from a platter and took a bite. She shook her head, having no desire for anything but coffee.

He looked at her, studying her, "I saw your father this morning carrying a strong box. I told him 'good morning' but either he did not hear me or he did not know I was here."

"You mean he seemed preoccupied, don't you? I told him good night and he acted as if I wasn't even there. Today's the day we pay the workers, I wonder if he carried their wages?" She paused, then said, "I am going to call the bank and ask if he made the withdrawal, if not, I must do it for the workers must be paid."

"I think that is wise," he said as she got up from the table, "I am afraid your father is not himself."

She dialed the number of their bank and Luxor and asked if the month's withdrawal had been made. "I see," she said, "I will be in there shortly and do it myself. My father has obvously forgotten." She hung up the phone then put her hands over her eyes as she began to cry.

He left his seat and put his arm around her waist. "I am sorry this is happening," he said, "I want you to know I will do everything I can to help."

"I have to go to the bank and get the money. I cannot believe Father did this to his workers. I must make sure that things are packed up and ready to be delivered to the museum. The tents must be taken down and the equipment readied for storage until the next season. And I must see if Father is sincere regarding this mad scheme to transport part of the artifacts by camel, if it is true he must have taken leave of his senses."

"I will meet you at the site and try to find out from the workers what is going on." Ardeth tried to soothe her, "They may be willing to tell me things they would not say to you for one reason or another. If we are truly meant follow through with this madness, I will find us some good camels and supplies. The first half of the journey we will be mostly on our own, there are several small towns after that where we can acquire what we need. Please do not worry, it will be all right."

She allowed herself a quick bath, then dressed and drove the truck she kept in Luxor to the bank. She was half afraid that her father may have withdrawn their funds—for whatever reason she did not know—but the account contained not only the workers' wages, but the bonuses they handed out at the end of every season.

She took a felucca to the opposite bank and allowed one of the camel drivers to escort her to Deir El Medina. For a small fee, and food and drink, he was willing to wait for her and escort her back to the landing where she would return to Luxor.

Her father had returned to Deir El Medina and seemed his old self, slightly surprised that he had forgotten the workmen's wages, but laughing it off, saying he must be going soft in the head. And of course, he knew that if he had forgotten, he could depend on her to remember for him.

This disturbed her but she said nothing. She supervised the final packing, the load she would take with Ardeth remaining in a small supply tent. She paid the workers, making sure that each received his bonus, and asked them if they would be willing to come back the next digging season. Though some seemed apprehensive, most were more than eager for the professor would pay them better than any other archaeologist. Carter-Bey provided work but his wages were stingy, they would rather work for the professor.

Ardeth-Bey rode up, leading four sturdy and well-fed camels. "We can load them up today and I will leave them with my father overnight. He is willing to tarry for one day, but the valley is barren and the herds need to be fed. You must be ready to leave tomorrow morning—I will come and fetch you. He is also willing to supply us with enough food to make it through the desert. We can fill the waterskins and hopefully they will supply us with enough water."

"Tell your father 'thank you', or better still, I will tell him myself tomorrow. That is very kind of him."

"He is worried, he feels that this is not good. He admires your father and wonders why he does this. He is sending word out to the tribes to let them know we are coming. If any Bedouin are in the area they will be on the lookout for us."

"Ardeth, is it true that your people claim they are descended from the Medjay?'

He laughed, breaking the tension, "There are some who like to tell that story. If so that would make us rather ruthless and cruel, don't you think? After all, we guarded the village to keep the inhabitants from stealing from the pharaoh's grave goods. No, and you should know this, we are more Arab than Egyptian now, with maybe a little Turkish and Greek thrown in. If we were the Medjay, it was a very long time ago."

She did not sleep well that night. Nightmares haunted her sleep with images of the old Egyptian gods, long-dead pharaohs, and monsters. Taking a bath helped refresh her, somewhat, and it would be the last she'd have for a while she reminded herself.

She was finishing her breakfast when Busa led Ardeth into the room.

"Did you eat well?" he asked, "I want to cover as many miles as we can before the weather gets too hot." He peered closely at her, "You did not sleep well?"

"No, I did not," she would not tell him why, "But it is probably because I am uneasy about this. We probably should have left last night while the air was still cool. I will sleep after we stop—if not, please make sure I do not fall off my camel."

Some of the Medjay—how funny it was that they named themselves after the guards of the Valley—were waiting for them at the site of her father's camp. Her father was supervising the loading of the pack camels they would use, his truck had been loaded the night before.

She could hear Ardeth and his father arguing about the folly of the trip to Minya through the desert, she was surprised to hear Ardeth defending it. The necessity of protecting her was the priority, he told his father, it was only the first part that would be hazardous, but he had heard that there might be Bedouin roaming in area so if they needed trouble there would be help.

Sandstorm season was a month away, Ardeth argued, their route would follow the Nile and if one did occur there were caves and old tombs in the cliffs that they could take refuge in. The camels could be brought in, too, so their would be no danger of losing them.

She agreed with Ardeth's father, this trip was folly. Something must have possessed her father for had he been in his right mind he never would have suggested it.

He came over to her and hugged her, "Be careful daughter, don't let the camels out of your sight. I am sure that Ardeth Bey will protect you. I will see you when you arrive in Cairo." He kissed the top of her blond head and went to his car.

"How is he?" Ardeth asked her.

"I don't know," she replied, "He is acting too normal and it bothers me. For once I am eager to leave the village. Let us travel as far as we can in the heat, then make the camp—I could certainly use some sleep."

"Well, the camels are packed and loaded with supplies. The goatskin tent I brought will be easy for two people to assemble and give us some progection from the heat during the day. My father brought along a generous supply of food, some dried lamb and dates, along with lots of bread that we must eat before it grows stale or moldy. The water skins are full and placed where we will have easy access. Is there anything else you need?"

"I was hoping to make one last trip to the village before we left but there is no time. Let us leave, Ardeth, if I linger too long here I will lose my courage."

The pack camels were tied to their saddles. Roma had long ago learned how to make the camel kneel so she could mount and had learned how to ride them like a Bedouin. She would have preferred taking horses, but these "ships of the desert" were better suited to their needs and she had long ago learned to tolerate their cantankerous natures.

The sun had already started its ascent into the clear blue sky of the desert. The day would grow from hot to unbearably hot in a few hours. She cursed herself for making such a slow start, hoping that they could at least make their way past the valleys of the kings and queens before they halted.

The relentless sun was growing hotter and even Ardeth, son of the desert that he was, decided he wished to go no further. "There is not much to shelter us here," he said apologetically, "But let us pitch the tent and try to get some sleep through the hottest part of the day. When the sun begins to go down it will start to cool a little."

She would have objected, she felt as if eyes were watching her back but she was tired from lack of sleep and needed to rest. They pitched the tent, a curious affair of black goatskin and a little awning to provide shelter for cooking and allowed the camels a bit of shade.

Though it was hot, she collapsed on her cot without the precaution of drinking water first and woke with a terrible thirst. She got up, careful not to wake Ardeth, and found of of the waterskins and drank deeply.

It was so hot now that the sky seemed to have lost its blue color and turned a ghostly white. She was familiar with this phenomenon having spent a good deal of time in the desert herself, but it never failed to catch her off guard. Now it seemed like an evil omen to her, like a sign that nothing good would come of what she was trying to do. The desert would win and she would lose and whatever it was that the baggage hid on the camel, the evil it carried would doom her.

"What are you doing?" asked Ardeth and she held up the waterskin, "I was thirsty, I forgot to drink before I lay down."

"That was my fault," he took the container from her and replaced it on the camel, "I should have made sure that you did. Come inside and rest, it will be some time before we leave in the evening."

She didn't move but stared at the ghostly white sky, "Do you something is going to happen to us, something bad, I mean?"

"Of course not, why are you letting your imagination run away with you? I could hide you safely in the desert for weeks and no one would find you and that is what I will do if I have to. Come inside and rest, you are anxious for your father, that is all."

She lay down once more and went back to sleep, a deep sleep empty of dreams. She did not see Ardeth watching her, not falling asleep himself until he was sure she was all right.

[missmagooglie]

I mean, I think any time a language adopts a "borrow word" from another language it (at least initially) comes with the inherent meaning "the thing the word means, but in the (perceived) style of the culture we borrowed the word from".

Which is relatively harmless when it comes to, like, foodstuffs for example (eg. english speakers using "naan" to specifically refer to "Indian-style flatbread" even though the direct translation would be just bread), but veers very quickly into at the very least cultural stereotyping if not more overt forms of racism and/or xenophobia when the borrow word refers to ideas, actions or behaviors.

Language evolves fast, and the meanings of words can shift dramatically based on usage to the point where it's origin becomes completely divorced from its contemporary meaning, but those stereotypes to have a way of clinging around the edges of a word's meaning no matter how far it has evolved. I don't think most people who use the word "machismo" in English are conciously or intentionally using it to mean "sexism (Latino style)", but there ARE a lot of aspects of how "machismo" is currently used that have significant overlap with negative stereotypes that Latin American men face in the United States, and that's certainly no coincidence.

I, like I suspect many of the tumblr populace, ran into the issue in my youth of reading a lot of words I never heard spoken. My vocabulary has always been above average but my implementation is often flawed.

Like the day I told my dad I was the epitome of something and he laughed in my face. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t correctly intuit the emphasis. (Mine was Ep-i-TOME vs Ep-i-to-ME).

My dad didn’t apologize for his rudeness but after my initial disgruntlement I just learned to roll with it. I’d get corrected and laugh it off. Some words were more frustrating though because it necessitated having to rework the word in my brain every time I read it. Like a few years ago when I learned I’d had “seneschal” wrong for decades. (I can’t explain why I thought it was sen-shull and not sen-es-shawl)

I learned that I had harbinger wrong during a Transformers movie without needing to embarrass myself. Thanks, Shia Lebouf. (Har-bing-er makes way more sense than har-binge-er but no one asked me)

At this point in my life though I’ve managed to work out most of the kinks. I don’t often get corrected anymore.

But there’s one other snag that crops up between me and my beloved. I’ll confidently say a word and they’ll go, “That’s not how that’s pronounced.”

“Yes it is,” I’ll say, very firmly. Because in these cases I’ll generally have heard with my ears and repeated a word verbatim. I’ll know I heard it, so it can’t be wrong.

And pretty much every time I’ll be saying the British pronunciation instead of the American one. I’ve consumed enough British media that often it’s the only time I heard certain words said and I never realized American English handles it differently.

In some cases I’ll switch to the accepted American one. But they can pry machismo out of my cold dead hands, the American version is so stupid I can’t even handle it.

[daddysbarrp]

@lungsandlips

"We've gotta do right by Rich. Nobody else is gonna. I wouldn't want that to happen to me. At the very least-" Dell admitted. "He was our friend. Our family-" he said, tumbling over the words.

The lighting that ran through his blood when Liam comforted him was something he hadn't expected nor something he completely understood how to deal with it. Only that it was. He let it sit. Let himself yearn when it was gone.

He was so deep in his feelings that a garbage truck could've rolled through the room itself and he'd probably have not noticed it.

Dell nodded. "They are one of my better things. Pizza you need stuff on, you know. Otherwise it's just flatbread. I still can't get the hang of biscotti. Something about baking bread twice. I just don't get it. Seems mean to do to the bread-" he said, a one off fact he knew and wrestled with but even saying it sounded so hollow and mundane and unimportant.

It was his turn to reach out. He cupped his hand against Liam's and gave the most gentle of squeezes. Afraid of the thing he really wanted to do. Which was just stay there and hold Liam's hand. It wasn't the right time. He was vulnerable and he knew it but every moment that passed all he wanted was to be in Liam's arms and never leave them again.

He wished it hadn't happened like this. That if this was going to happen it had been any other way. It felt so selfish to want anything like this at all but the chance to be in his arms. The first moment- he'd taken it and he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Maybe it'll be easier than I imagine, you know?" he said shyly and then took a big breath in and out. "Thank you." He said instead of kissing Liam like he wanted to do. He stumbled to his feet and found his phone.

The phone call to Avery was brief. The name Liam vaguely meant anything to Avery but for Avery it was more about Dell being safe and comfortable and not doing anything reckless.

Avery had a funny definition of reckless.

He stared at his phone after it was done with Avery. His breathing hitched a little. He leaned back in the doorway, slumped. His hands shook a little and he held out one to Liam while dialing with the other. Lorena picked up after a few rings and Dell delivered the worst news of his life to one of his dearest friend's remaining family.

And it was like opening the wound again, as it turned out.

@lungsandlips

"Have to be a little responsible today," Dell said with a little nod and his voice lost a little bit of its luster for a moment. He was quiet then. He could almost feel the weight of the phone in the other room. This would ruin Lorena's day. It had certainly ruined his. Even if it had brought Liam back into his life - the price for that had been Rich. And that was- high. Too high a price.

"But then yes-" he said and he wasn't trying but the gaze he gave to Liam. Allowed himself to give. It was one that used to be puppy dog eyes to get his way but they were different now. It wasn't puppy dog eyes. It was seeing someone again in a new way and not knowing what quite to do with the feelings, the desire, and the life that you had. And what it all meant.

"Mmm-" Dell said, eating some but finding it was hard to eat a full meal. It wasn't picking at the food exactly but food seemed- a little weighty. He was hungry but it was- it just wasn't all that he wanted.

Eventually, he pushed the plate off after having at least had the protein. What would they have been like in another time? Would they have been playing footsie under the table? Would Dell have been romantic or something towards Liam? Would they have been fighting? Singing? Making love again for the third time?

Well. This is what they were now.

"The biscuits save up nice. I recommend ham with them for lunch actually is the best way-" he said to fill up the space. But it was hard to get up. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. And finally then spoke.

"So I'm gonna- would you- just stay at the table and I'll come in with my phone and I just-" he looked away, feeling so shy and intensely vulnerable. "I just- sorry- it's a lot-"