#the cream tasted a bit charred

[thesassypadawan]

When you get the Vader oreo...and you can't wait to taste his sweet cream in your mouth 🤭

[ashton-sano]

Yeah, My boyfriend's Pretty Cool~♫

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`> Blue Lock Boys as Boyfriends

(Char. Included: Yoichi Isagi, Rin Itoshi, Chigiri Hyoma, Meguru Bachira, Reo Mikage, Sae Itoshi)

-You all seemed to like my last one, so ill try and post more blue lock content ^^. The format might be weird so you'll have to scroll, ill attempt to fix it, forgive me

　　

　　 　

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Love on me ♡ ↓ ♫ ⁹⁹⁹⁺ ︙

1:20 ———●—————— 2:30

Isagi Yoichi

!Isagi Yoichi who always, always, always, gives you a kiss before he goes anywhere, even if its just to the kitchen because he’ll be damned if he leaves the room without making sure you know he loves you

!Isagi Yoichi who buys the most thoughtful gifts regardless of how often you spoke on it, just glance at it for too long and the next day it's in your room with a cute bow. He wont ever admit it if you ask but wont stop smiling when he sees you with the gift he picked out

In reverse, !Isagi Yoichi who nearly cries receiving a handmade gift from you because he’s not used to something so thoughtful and carefully crafted just for him. He’ll wear it if its clothes or hang it up/ put it on a shelf, proudly stating how much your kindness is appreciated

!Isagi Yoichi who practices for days confessing to you in the mirror and still sputtering over his words when he sees you, his blush rising as he struggles to babble out his adoration for you, he nearly passed out when you gave him a soft smile and accepted

Rin Itoshi

!Rin Itoshi who spends hours at a time picking out that one flavor of your candy you said you didn't quite like from any he buys, safe to say he’s pleased seeing your face when you don't see any in your batch

!Rin Itoshi who loves horror and adores how you turn away from any jumpscares as he playfully berates you for claiming you could handle it, regardless he’ll still open his arms wordlessly and let you cuddle into him….and no the movie isn't an excuse to get closer to you without having to ask, that’d be silly

!Rin Itoshi who hates being touched but melts under yours after a grueling day of practice, snuggling into your bosom as you softly coo at him, the exhaustion siphoning any strength to rebuttal you as he flutters his eyes closed, just happy to have you to come home to

!Rin Itoshi who will watch the same shows with you for the millionth time if it means you’ll look at him as warmly as you always do, beaming that he wants to spend time with you. He’ll definitely fit room in to complain that it’s boring watching the same thing over and over, but he has to admit that your taste in film is rather impeccable 

Chigiri Hyoma 

#Chigiri Hyoma with a crazy long skin + hair care routine and Convinces Forces you to join in on, claiming it's simply to help fix your hygiene but he just really likes spending time with you. The talks you have as you get ready for bed have become his routine, he must have his S/o with him as he combs through his hair. If you’re a bit busy? He simply waits until you get there and won't begin until you are

#Chigiri Hyoma who gets mistaken for your girlfriend at least once a week and either politely corrects them or just flat out pretends he is. It’s gotten to the point where even some of your closest friends thought he was a girl for the longest time, even though they recently found out he was in fact a he they still refer to him as “Y/n’s Girlfriend.” It's become a long running joke at his expense for a while.

#Chigiri Hyoma who falls for you all over again when you help him tend to his leg. Whether it's bringing fresh bandages or buying him a moisturizer/ cream you think will be helpful. It means a lot that you go out of your way to do something regardless of how small it seems. He has in fact caught you watching him as he does his usual routine for it and might speak up to tease you for staring

#Chigiri Hyoma, who doesn't believe in going to bed angry, right or wrong, refuses to let either of you go to bed without resolving the issue. He’d hate for something bad to happen with the last thing he said to you, something he said out of anger. He has pride but will always forsake it if it means you two go to sleep in good spirits

Meguru Bachira

#Meguru Bachira who loves surprise hugs; he will always sneak up on you and jump at you, smothering you with affection and kisses with giddy. That applies to Surprise Kisses, handholding, and a few Ass grabs That one got him in trouble .He would definitely love it if you did it back, so don’t be shy, the spontaneity of it makes him excited

#Meguru Bachira who is only calm in the shower, but only with you in it with him. Nothing perverse in this case, he just enjoys the intimacy of it all. It's a perfect way to wind down after a long day as the day comes to a close. However, he’s not above a bit of a water fight if you’re up for it

#Meguru Bachira who is the best at reassurance no matter the reason. Bad grade on a test? That's okay, you tried your best so lets get Ice cream ‘kay? Feeling insecure? Impossible when you’re the most beautiful person i've ever seen, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Just a straight ray of sunshine, how could you even hope to stay sad with this sweetheart there to lift your spirits?

#Meguru Bachira who embodies a golden Retriever, especially with you. He’ll always follow you around and fill the silence if it gets too quiet for his tastes, occupying it with whatever comes to mind first, ranging from what he had for breakfast this morning to the cool moves he did in practice yesterday afternoon to complimenting your outfit. As soon as he sees you, he has to approach and squeeze the affection into you. He loves your praise, please give him praise all the time. Tell him he’s doing a good job, you’ll swear you can see his tail wagging

Reo Mikage 

$Reo Mikage who’s love language is gift giving and acts of service. He doesn't trust his mouth to convey his feelings so he lets his actions speak for him. Perhaps you’ll find more of that snack you liked in the fridge after days he comes over, perhaps a couple dollars more in your account than you remember. He wants you to know he loves you and what better way than spending his money on you?

$Reo Mikage who doesn't understand why you don't expect expensive gifts and even actively requests him against it. Why shouldn't he spend his money on the most important person in his world? Why don't you just tell him you hate him and want to leave? You have to explain that sometimes simplicity is better and you’d accept any gift as long as it's with thought and good intention

$Reo Mikage who borders on less than healthy tendencies seeing you with anyone he doesn’t approve of, almost like a parent policing over their kids life. He’s quick to rid of anyone he feels has a chance of taking you from him, even if it means telling a slight untruth to you so you wont worry. Of course he’d never do that to your friend sweetheart, they matter to you so of course they matter to him. They just happen to be taking a rather extensive Permanent Vacation across the world; no harm done ^^

$Reo Mikage who would love it if you and Nagi got along. His treasure and his beloved being friends is everything he could ask for. Let’s not worry about why he’s slowly bringing more of Nagi’s things into your house and sends you two places together alone, he just wants you to get along, thats all. It’ll make it easier when he brings up you all being a couple……Hm? No you didnt hear me talking to myself hun, just lost in a thought nothing to fear.

(I believe in Slightly Deranged!Reo, no elaboration)

Sae Itoshi

$Sae Itoshi who is a bit of an asshole, but he decently tries to tone down for your sake, considering there’s no reason to treat you with contempt. You will have to tell him when he goes too far because he has a habit of nitpicking to the point of simply being mean. 

$Sae Itoshi who hates those born in Japan but hates it just a bit less if you tell him you have lineage from there. Its hard to look at that face and hold bitterness in his heart, you squeeze it right out of it with the hold you have. He can’t say it, he can hardly even show it but god forbid someone points it out, they’ll have a very long and ruthless spat from him.

$Sae Itoshi who needs you to teach him everything because he’s filled his head with so much soccer so theres no room for anything else. You’re surprised seeing how many basic things he doesnt know how to do. It doesn’t help that his pride is too big for his body so he’ll end up getting it wrong 13,000 times before he even considers the idea of asking you to help. He might begrudgingly let you help if you ask but will immidiently lie if you tease. 

$Sae who changes his favorite season, every season. When you’re in that adorable knitted sweater, he swears its the Fall. However that cute swimsuit you have will have him questioning if he ever had a favorite. He cant help but lean to Winter as you stuff your hand in his jacket, intertwining them with his as he tells you off for not bringing your own. He’s so happy that he put all of yours in the wash today

Property of ©ashton-sano; Don't post my content on any other platform without credit; much love^^

[feyburner]

chicken tikka masala recipe?? 👀👀

Sure. This is compiled from a bunch of different recipes, primarily Swasthi’s Recipes, Bon Appetit, and personal recipes from curry enthusiasts on a reddit post.

I use chicken breast bc I prefer the texture for curries, I don’t like non-crispy chicken fat (not a fan of chicken fat/meat fat in general, I know, it’s my toxic trait). Thighs are of course also great.

Spice measurements should be considered a baseline minimum. Add more to taste.

CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA

1 head garlic, minced

2 Tbsp minced ginger

1 heaping Tbsp turmeric

1 heaping Tbsp garam masala

1 heaping Tbsp coriander

1 heaping Tbsp cumin

+

1.5 cups plain full fat yogurt

1 Tbsp kosher salt

1.5-2 lbs boneless skinless chicken breast (or thighs), sliced in half lengthwise

+

3-4 Tbsp ghee or butter + oil

1 large yellow onion, chopped

10-12 cardamom pods, crushed (or 2 tsp ground cardamom)

1 Tbsp red pepper flakes or chili powder

1 x 6 oz can tomato paste

1 x 28 oz can tomato puree

1.5 cups heavy cream (or less cream + make up remainder with water or coconut milk/cream)

1-2 Tbsp brown sugar

DIRECTIONS

1. In a small bowl, mix together garlic, ginger, turmeric, garam masala, coriander, cumin.

2. In a separate bowl, whisk together yogurt and salt. Whisk in 1/2 spice mix; reserve the rest (covered and chilled). Pat chicken dry and add to yogurt marinade, coating fully. Cover and chill 4-24 hours.

3. Heat ghee in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add cardamom and red pepper flakes. Bloom until fragrant, 20 seconds. Add onions and tomato paste. Cook, stirring, 5 minutes until tomato paste has darkened and onions are softening. Add reserved spice mix and cook, stirring, another 4-5 minutes until darker brown. Add extra ghee if needed.

4. Add tomato puree. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring and scraping bits from the bottom. Simmer 8-10 minutes until slightly thickened.

5. Optional (but highly recommended): Carefully transfer sauce to a food processor. Pulse until smooth and blended. Transfer back to saucepan.

6. Add cream and brown sugar (and leftover yogurt marinade if desired; it’s a raw chicken marinade but you’re cooking long enough that it’s fine). Simmer, stirring often, 30-40 minutes.

7. Meanwhile, heat ghee or vegetable oil (not butter or olive oil) in a nonstick pan or well-seasoned cast iron on highest heat until smoking hot. Sear the chicken 2-3 pieces at a time, 3 minutes on each side, to char. Chicken will still be pink inside.

8. Cut chicken into bite-size cubes. Add to simmering tikka masala sauce and stir until cooked through, 10 minutes.

9. Garnish with fresh cilantro (coriander). Serve with rice and/or naan, paratha, etc.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Steps of a Midnight Waltz - Halloween Special

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: When Jenna invites you to an exclusive masquerade hosted by one of her famous friends, you expect a night of glamour and mystery—but not like this. Surrounded by ghostly guests and forced to relive a stranger’s tragic love story, the two of you must uncover the truth before the clock strikes midnight…or risk being trapped in their world forever.

Word Count: 4.5k

The soft hum of the television filled the living room, casting flickers of light across the walls. You and Jenna lay comfortably on the couch, limbs entangled in a way that felt second nature after three years together. It was one of those rare nights where neither of you had obligations pulling you away, and you’d settled into the rhythm of your lazy evening routine. You’d made dinner, and she’d attempted to surprise you with dessert—though the slightly charred edges hinted she might have gotten distracted.

She handed you a dish with a sheepish grin. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely,” you smirked, pulling her close for a quick kiss. “But we might need some whipped cream to help with the taste.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, swatting your arm before resting her head against your shoulder, exhaling a contented sigh. This felt like everything you’d worked hard for—a cozy house you could call home, where she could crash after long filming days, away from prying eyes. She even had her own set of keys, a secret most people didn’t know. Just her way of slipping in and out unnoticed, something that amazed you considering her popularity. Sure, fan mail sometimes found its way to your doorstep, and the paparazzi occasionally loitered around your neighborhood, but inside these walls, it was just you and Jenna.

The two of you had just finished watching the latest episode of some murder mystery show when Jenna’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her brows furrowing slightly as she sat up.

“What’s up?” you asked, shifting so you could look over her shoulder.

“It’s Percy,” she murmured, showing you the message. Percy Hynes White—a close friend from the Wednesday set. “He’s inviting us to some Halloween masquerade party in the hills.”

Your eyebrows rose. “A masquerade party? Isn’t that a little… theatrical?”

She chuckled, tilting her head in thought. “Percy always did have a flair for the dramatic. He says it’s exclusive, just a handful of his close friends and some others from the industry.”

You took a breath, considering. Halloween was always a fun excuse to get dressed up, but something about the invitation felt… different. “Exclusive in what way?”

Jenna shrugged, but her eyes gleamed with intrigue. “He says it’ll be unforgettable, that he pulled some strings to make it really immersive. Maybe it’s some kind of performance thing?”

You glanced at the message again, Percy’s words echoing in your mind: Dress to impress, but don’t look too closely under the mask.

Jenna leaned into you, her eyes sparking with a hint of mischief. “Come on, it could be fun. Plus, it’s been a while since we did something different for Halloween.”

You grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Alright, but if this turns into some horror-movie experience, I’m blaming you.”

Halloween night came swiftly as you both got ready rather quickly, ready for whatever the night brought you both. Jenna appeared from her room, adjusting her mask delicately as she walked toward you. She was dressed in a midnight blue gown that shimmered under the low lights, hugging her form and flowing elegantly with each step. Her dark hair was swept back, revealing a pair of sparkling earrings, and the way her mask accentuated her eyes left you completely mesmerized. The faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips told you she noticed your reaction, and she lingered just a bit longer, letting you drink in every detail.

“Close your mouth,” she teased, her voice a soft whisper as she reached for your hand, the warmth of her fingers pulling you out of your daze.

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slightly. “You’re one to talk.” You glanced down at yourself, taking in your outfit—a well-tailored ensemble that hit the balance between formal and comfortable, a layered look that was sharp and understated, yet eye-catching in its simplicity. Jenna’s eyes swept over you with an approving look that made your pulse quicken.

“Shall we?” you asked, offering your arm with a grin that felt a little too wide, a little too proud.

She took it, her hand light on your forearm as she gave a playful nod. “Lead the way.”

With one last look at each other, you stepped out together, ready to face whatever the night had in store.

The drive through the winding hills of Los Angeles felt endless, the road narrowing as you ventured further from the city lights. Jenna was next to you, her fingers laced with yours, a mixture of excitement and curiosity glinting in her eyes. The invitation had given you an address, but no further instructions, and the closer you got, the quieter it became, the distant sounds of the city fading into an eerie silence. Even the moon seemed hidden behind a veil of clouds, casting a dim, otherworldly glow over the road.

When you finally pulled up to the entrance of a sprawling estate, there was no doubt this was the place. Large iron gates, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, opened before you, as if expecting your arrival. Beyond the gates, a grand mansion loomed, its silhouette stark against the night sky, ivy curling around the dark stone facade. It looked like something from another era, timeless and haunting.

Jenna squeezed your hand, her eyes gleaming beneath her delicate mask. You could feel her anticipation as you reached the grand staircase leading to the entrance, the sound of distant music drifting through the thick wooden doors. A sense of excitement buzzed between you, but something else lingered in the air—an unspoken feeling of unease.

“Ready?” she asked, glancing up at you with a grin that held a hint of mischief.

You returned the smile, adjusting your own mask. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The doors opened with a low creak, and you stepped into a dimly lit hall, chandeliers casting warm golden light across the marble floors. The scent of old wood, wax, and something faintly floral hung in the air, inviting yet oddly unfamiliar. Around you, figures in elaborate costumes and masks mingled, their faces hidden beneath intricate designs of lace and feathers, jewels catching the light.

Jenna looped her arm through yours, her eyes roaming the room. “This is amazing,” she whispered, her gaze taking in the rich details—the polished wood paneling, the velvet curtains, the shadows that seemed to flicker at the edge of the room, as if watching.

You wandered through the room together, and as you moved, you noticed the guests were unusually quiet, their voices barely above a murmur. Some stood in groups, exchanging hushed words, while others seemed lost in their own world, dancing to the hauntingly beautiful melody echoing through the halls. It felt like stepping into another time, where the past lingered just beneath the surface.

Percy spotted you from across the room and made his way over, dressed in a black suit with a silver mask that covered half his face. His eyes glinted with a knowing look as he greeted Jenna, pulling her into a quick hug before turning to you.

“You made it,” he said, his tone almost too casual, as though he’d expected you all along. He gave a slight nod to Jenna, his voice low. “I’m glad you could come. This place has… a certain charm, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, glancing around. “It feels like we’ve walked into a dream—or maybe a ghost story.”

Percy chuckled, the sound soft and oddly distant. “You’re not far off. This place is full of memories. Just be careful what you wish for.” He gave you both a cryptic smile before blending back into the crowd.

You exchanged a look with Jenna, a shiver running down your spine at his words. There was something strange about the way he’d spoken, like he was in on a secret you weren’t privy to. But before you could dwell on it, Jenna’s hand tugged on yours, leading you toward the center of the room where a small group had begun to dance, swaying to the ethereal tune filling the hall.

As you began to waltz, Jenna’s eyes sparkled beneath her mask. She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “Feels like we’re in another world, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, but as you spun her, your gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar—no one else seemed to blink. The other guests moved with a rhythmic grace, their faces hidden, yet they held an unsettling stillness, their eyes unblinking, expressions frozen. An eerie sensation crept over you as you watched a masked couple dance, their movements smooth but unnervingly mechanical, like they were moving on a loop.

“Jenna,” you whispered, pulling her a bit closer, “does anything feel… off to you?”

She tilted her head, her brows knitting together as she looked around. “Now that you mention it…” Her eyes narrowed, observing the room with newfound caution.

Just then, the music shifted, the tempo quickened, almost imperceptibly at first, but then it grew, urging the dancers around you to move faster. There was something unnatural about the pace, a feverish intensity that set your instincts on edge.

You shared a look with Jenna, an unspoken agreement passing between you both. Just as the other dancers’ movements grew frenzied, you stepped away from the floor, hand in hand, leaving the strange whirl of figures behind. With a steadying breath, you guided her toward the lavish refreshment table, hoping a drink might shake the creeping unease that had settled over the room. Jenna’s grip tightened on your hand, her gaze darting to yours with a spark of concern.

“Maybe we should—”

The air grew cold, and a collective whisper echoed through the hall, sending chills down your spine. The dancers froze mid-movement, their heads turning in unison to face you, eyes gleaming with a strange, unnatural light.

And then, almost as one, they resumed their dance, spinning and twirling. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you, and you turned to see Percy standing at a distance, watching with that same unsettling smile.

“What’s going on here?” you asked, your voice coming out as a strained whisper.

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming beneath his mask. “Sometimes, the past doesn’t stay buried. Sometimes, it comes back for those who walk in its shadow.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as his words sank in. You glanced at Jenna, catching the flicker of unease in her eyes, and a silent understanding passed between you. Something was very wrong here, and you were caught in the middle of it.

You wandered through the crowd, each new step revealing odd inconsistencies that tugged at your instincts. The clock on the grand wall, gilded and majestic, ticked backward in quiet defiance. The ballroom mirrors reflected only fragments of the room, casting eerie angles of the scene but omitting people altogether. Occasionally, the live band’s music warped and echoed, like it was playing from a distant place, the sound bending just enough to send shivers up your spine.

As you both sipped your drinks, Jenna leaned in close, her voice hushed. “Have you noticed?” She nodded toward the guests around you. They seemed lost in conversation, but the same words repeated over and over, as if the entire scene was caught in a loop.

Before you could respond, a woman in an elegant mask leaned close, her voice soft but brimming with urgency. “It’s almost midnight,” she whispered. “You’ll want to take your places.” And before you could question her, she melted back into the crowd, leaving you and Jenna alone with her cryptic warning.

The masked host's voice boomed across the room, drawing every eye to the center of the grand ballroom. With a flourish, he held up a delicate glass, commanding the attention of his guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, you are not merely observers—you are participants! The midnight waltz shall reenact a tale of love and loss, bound by fate and preserved through time."

The crowd murmured, intrigued, and the host’s gaze lingered on you and Jenna. He gestured toward the both of you, his eyes glinting beneath his ornate mask. "Our main players, our lovers—these two shall carry the heart of tonight’s story."

You exchanged a glance with Jenna, a strange sense of connection sparking between you. Before either of you could respond, attendants appeared, offering you each an item. Jenna was handed a simple, elegant locket—a piece that felt surprisingly familiar, almost as though it was meant to be hers. For you, it was a worn leather-bound journal, its edges frayed and soft with age.

“These,” the host continued, “are yours alone, to aid in your journey. Cherish them well.”

The moment your fingers brushed the journal, a strange, unexplainable warmth spread through your hand, as though it held secrets woven through time. Jenna’s fingers traced the locket, her eyes glancing up at you, a look of bewilderment on her face that mirrored your own.

As you returned to the center of the ballroom, the host’s voice echoed through the room. “Embrace the story, become the lovers, and perhaps—just perhaps—you shall unravel the truth bound within.” He lifted his glass high, and the crowd followed suit, toasting to the night’s mystery.

In your search for answers, you managed to slip away to a secluded area, whispering urgently about the strange inconsistencies you’d both noticed.

“This is way too weird,” Jenna mutters, glancing back at the eerily synchronized dancers. “None of this feels right.”

You nod, gripping her hand tightly as you both approach the grand entry doors. “Let’s just leave,” you whisper.

As you push against the door, an unsettling realization hits you—your hands don’t even make contact. It’s as if an invisible force is keeping you at bay. You try again, pushing harder, pulling, but nothing works.

“What’s going on?” Jenna’s voice shakes slightly, and you can see the worry flickering in her eyes.

You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “It’s like… there’s a barrier.”

A heavy silence falls as the panic begins to rise, your hearts racing as you look at each other, silently questioning your next move. But then, footsteps echo behind you.

“Going somewhere?” a voice asks lightly. You turn to see Percy smiling, his gaze too knowing, his presence almost smug.

You glare at him, frustration and fear mingling. “What the hell is going on, Percy?” you demand, stepping forward. “What kind of game is this?”

“Game?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile growing wider. Before your eyes, his features change—his eyes darkening, his skin taking on an unnatural pallor as he shifts into a figure far older, with a sinister, regal presence.

You feel a chill run down your spine as he adjusts his collar, seeming unfazed by your reaction. “Convincing, wasn’t it?” he says, that smirk never leaving his face.

Jenna steps closer to you, her fingers tightening around yours. “We’re not playing your game,” she says, her voice cold, steady.

“Oh, but you are.” He gestures to the ballroom, where guests begin removing their masks, revealing twisted, decaying faces beneath. Ghostly forms, eyes vacant and flesh rotting, continue their dances as if unaware of their grotesque states.

“These guests… they’ve been here for centuries, driven by jealousy. This masquerade began as a prank, a cruel game played on two lovers who were envied for their devotion,” he explains. “But it went too far, ending in their deaths. In their rage, the lovers cursed this place, trapping their tormentors and any unfortunate soul who happens upon it.”

Jenna glances at you, dread dawning in her eyes as the host leans closer, a chilling satisfaction in his voice. “To escape, you must reenact their story. Relive their romance, their tragedy. There are three phases—two guided by the artifacts and memories left behind, but the final phase… well, that’s where all the others have failed. The midnight waltz—their final dance together. Complete it, and the curse is broken.”

You swallow, barely able to find your voice. “And if we don’t…?”

He smiles, stepping back as the ghastly figures drift around you. “Then you become part of the masquerade, like all the others, decaying one slow night at a time.”

The realization weighs heavily on you both as he fades back into the shadows, leaving you surrounded by cursed souls and an impossible task ahead.

The grotesque figures around you move in mechanical loops, whispering fragments of conversations that echo as if from another time. The midnight waltz, a doomed love, the need to break free—it all blurs together, and you can feel the walls of the ballroom closing in, the air heavy with the weight of centuries-old despair.

Jenna’s fingers tighten around yours, grounding you. “We’re getting out of here,” she says, her voice low but unwavering. The strength in her tone cuts through the haze of fear clouding your mind, giving you a renewed sense of determination.

You make your way back to the main hall, hand in hand. The first artifact is on display: a delicate, tarnished locket resting on an antique table, its chain coiled like a serpent around the pendant. You can almost feel its significance, the weight of the story woven into its metal.

Jenna picks it up, turning it over in her hands. “There’s something inscribed here,” she murmurs, squinting at the faint etchings. Together, you decipher the words: Bound beyond time, bound beyond death.

You exchange a glance, both feeling the eerie chill of those words sink in. “It must have symbolized their bond,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Their promise to each other.”

Jenna’s brow furrows as she looks at you, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. “Are you saying we… we have to recreate that?”

You nod slowly, realizing that this isn’t just about physical tokens—it’s about re-enacting the emotions, the vows, the essence of the couple’s love. “It’s not forever,” you say, holding her gaze. “But maybe… just for tonight, we need to follow the steps.”

Taking a deep breath, she slips the locket around her neck. The moment it clasps, a strange warmth fills the room, and for a brief moment, the faded grandeur of the ballroom sharpens, as if it’s been restored to its former glory. The guests around you pause, their eyes glinting with a ghostly awareness, and the haunting music softens into a gentle melody.

You reach for Jenna’s hand, repeating the locket’s words together, Bound beyond time, bound beyond death. It’s a strange, almost surreal moment, and as the words leave your lips, you’re hit with a wave of emotions—flashes of memories that don’t belong to you. A hidden garden under moonlight, whispered promises, stolen glances. It’s the love story of two people who loved deeply and died too soon.

The vision fades, and you’re left breathless, the reality of the ballroom returning, though now the locket is glowing faintly around Jenna’s neck, signaling the completion of the first phase.

“One down,” Jenna murmurs, a shaky but determined smile on her lips.

But as you glance around, you realize the ballroom’s cursed guests have taken notice, their ghostly forms edging closer, their hollow eyes fixed on the two of you with a mixture of envy and hunger. The first phase has stirred something within them, a reminder of the love and life they can no longer possess.

With a renewed urgency, you turn to the next artifact: a worn leather-bound journal, resting on a pedestal in the corner of the room. Its cover is cracked and faded, as though it’s been handled countless times, and you can almost feel the weight of its history as you pick it up. The journal, you sense, holds the heart of the couple’s tragedy.

Jenna leans over your shoulder as you open the book, its yellowed pages filled with fragments of thoughts, scrawled notes, and images. It’s a scattered, chaotic testament to their love and the jealousy that surrounded it. Some words are scratched out violently, others rewritten with fervor. Over and over, certain phrases leap out: betrayal, envy, forever.

Your fingers trace the words, absorbing the story that unfolds. The lovers had found solace in each other, hidden from prying eyes, but were ultimately torn apart by the envy of those who could not bear their happiness. And in their final moments, they had written their last vows in this journal, hoping their love would survive, even if they could not.

Jenna’s fingers skim a passage near the end. In the midnight waltz, we found each other anew, becoming one, bound beyond envy, beyond fear. She looks at you, a sense of understanding in her gaze. “The waltz was their key… their way of defying the curse.”

You nod, feeling the intensity of the moment settle over you. “If we can complete it, maybe… maybe it’ll break the curse.”

But before you can speak further, a low whisper fills the air. The host has reappeared, his face cracked and ghastly, a ghostly grin stretching across his face. “Close,” he murmurs, his voice an eerie, mocking echo. “But remember, the waltz must be flawless. Fail… and you become one of us.”

The masked guests begin to unmask fully, revealing hollow, decaying faces, their eyes dark and empty. You realize they were just like you, attempting to escape and failing, cursed to haunt the ballroom forever.

Jenna’s hand tightens around yours, her jaw set with determination. “We’re not failing.”

Together, you take to the center of the ballroom. The final phase is upon you, and the music swells, filling the room with a haunting melody. You hold each other, positioning yourselves to begin the midnight waltz, the final act in the story.

As you sway to the rhythm, following the clues in the journal, the air grows thick, almost tangible with the memories of the lovers’ final moments. Each step is a reenactment of their love, each turn a testament to their devotion. It’s as though you and Jenna are slipping into their roles completely, becoming extensions of their story, living their emotions, their desperation to break free.

The guests murmur, the clock strikes closer to midnight, and you both quicken your pace. The music guides you, but something feels… wrong. The room seems to close in, and you can sense the host watching, waiting for a single mistake.

As the final chime rings out, you find yourself faltering, a sudden sense of dread washing over you. Jenna stumbles, but you catch her, your arms wrapping around her, steadying her.

“This isn’t their ending,” you say, voice firm, defiant. “We’re not bound to their fate.”

In a moment of clarity, you realize the way to break the curse isn’t to follow their tragic path but to reject it. Instead of finishing the dance, you pull away from Jenna, breaking the final pose. She follows suit, her eyes wide with understanding.

“No!” the host’s voice echoes, his face contorted with rage. The guests begin to wail, their figures blurring and fading as the room shakes, the walls cracking, the ceiling starting to crumble.

Hand in hand, you and Jenna turn and run toward the grand doors, which swing open before you. You burst out into the cold night air, the mansion collapsing behind you. The sounds of wailing and cries echo as the walls crumble into dust, the ballroom fading into nothingness.

Breathing heavily, you and Jenna look at each other, the weight of what just happened sinking in. You reach the car, slipping inside, Jenna’s hand clutching yours tightly. She’s shaking slightly, but her eyes hold a glint of relief, mixed with disbelief.

As you drive away, leaving the cursed estate in the rearview mirror, you glance at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. The mansion is gone, but a part of you wonders if the shadows of that night will ever fully leave.

When you glance back one final time, you see faint silhouettes in the windows, figures waving. You can’t tell if it’s a farewell or a warning, but as the city lights come into view, you turn your gaze forward, leaving the midnight waltz—and its ghosts—behind.

The weight of the night settled over you as you drove back toward the city, silence stretching between you and Jenna, punctuated only by the quiet hum of the car engine. The experience had left an indelible mark, a lingering tension woven into every stolen glance and shared breath.

Jenna finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think… we actually got out?”

You hesitated, the question hanging heavy in the air. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your fingers instinctively tightening around the wheel. “But we’re here. Together. That has to mean something, right?”

She nodded slowly, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes. For a while, neither of you spoke, each lost in the events that had unfolded in that cursed ballroom.

The familiar city lights gradually began to replace the eerie glow of the mansion, grounding you both back into the present. The reality of life outside those doors returned with the first streetlight that passed over you, illuminating Jenna’s face with a warmth and familiarity that finally eased some of the tension in your chest.

As you pulled into your driveway, the house stood as a reassuring sight—its warm lights a stark contrast to the haunting shadows you’d left behind. When the car came to a stop, you exhaled, feeling the grip of that midnight world finally starting to release you.

Jenna unclasped her seatbelt and turned to you, a small, weary smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s go inside.”

Together, you climbed out of the car, and as you stepped through the doorway, you felt the final remnants of the night’s dread fall away, replaced by a familiar comfort. You locked the door behind you, the soft click echoing in the quiet house.

She reached for your hand, pulling you gently toward the living room. Settling back onto the couch, limbs entwined, it was as though nothing had changed at all—as though the night’s horrors had merely been a dream.

But as Jenna’s fingers laced through yours, her head resting against your shoulder, you could feel the strength in her grip, the weight of everything you’d both just survived. And despite the questions that lingered, there was a peace that began to settle between you, a sense that, whatever shadows may still linger, they couldn’t touch you here.

As you drifted into the comfort of each other’s arms, the clock on the wall chimed softly in the distance, marking midnight. For a moment, a chill swept through the room, a final reminder of the midnight world you’d escaped.

But then, Jenna’s fingers traced a small circle on your palm, grounding you both. The warmth of her touch dissolved any lingering doubts, and you let yourself sink into the quiet safety of the present, leaving the echoes of that haunted waltz to fade into memory.

[hannie-dul-set]

Hi hi! How about jaemin? 🫣

I've been into him since he posted him wearing spec on ig 😭😭

[an untouched cooler of strawberry and vanilla]. na jaemin still remembers that your favorite popsicle flavor is vanilla strawberry swirl. 

it’s just the perfect amount of sweet, you said. the fruity taste of strawberry mixed with the mild vanilla can make me eat ten popsicles in one sitting. jaemin never really shared the sentiment, going as far gracing you with a horrified expression when you forced him to taste it before. he still remembers the gross flavor on his tongue. he still remembers how much sweeter your laughter sounded— sweeter than the ice cream flavor you loved so much.

“na jaemin! why the hell is this entire cooler filled with nothing but strawberry ice cream?!”

maybe because he heard you’re finally showing up to the gathering this summer. maybe because he’s been waiting for you to finally show up after all those unreturned invitations for the past six years.

“you’re lactose intolerant! and you don’t even like strawberries!”

who cares? he’d die choking on milk and strawberries if you tell him to (maybe that’s a stretch, but the sentiment is there).

“hey, where are you going?!”

he hears the gates of his family’s vacation house rattle open. a familiar greeting, a familiar welcome. the voice of his mom, the voice of yours— all of which rapidly grow louder when he runs down the hallway, bumping into mark who’s carrying fruit trays and canned soda, runs down the staircase, breezing past chenle who has a pool floatie caught around his waist, until he finally reaches the main foyer, screeches into a quick halt, and then ah. 

“oh my! i’m happy that your daughter finally found the time to join our summer gatherings together. when was the last time you’ve been here again, sweetie?”

just like how he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor, his memory of how pretty you are remains unchanged.

“now that everyone’s here, i guess we can start the barbecue!”

well. not all things can remain the same. not all things can stay still like stagnant water. the barbecue starts, and jaemin is manning the grill with haechan— who’s still pressed because he ran from him earlier— now even more pissed because, “dude, the meat is fucking burning. where the hell is your head at?’

his head is turned exactly thirty-seven degrees away from where it should be— pointed at the direction of the pool ledge where you’re sitting, dipping your feet in the water, but it’s not just you there.

jeno is there too. with matching melona bars in hand.

haechan hisses out a swear when the fire burns his side of the meat into char. you didn’t even spare him anything beyond an awkward smile at the front door earlier. the cooler of strawberry swirls remains untouched. haechan kicks him out from grilling duty until further notice, but na jaemin isn’t one to sit around and do nothing. 

“hey.”

somehow, his feet lead him to the edge of the pool. you look up at him. jeno looks up at him. your half-eaten melona bars mocking him in plain sight. he feels five other eyes staring at him, but that doesn’t matter right now.

“we’re missing some plates and utensils on the table. mind helping me get them from the kitchen?”

what matters is making sure that not all things have changed. 

“i missed you.”

and he gets that confirmation when the kitchen curtains draw close, your popsicle hits the tiles, and you don’t push him away when he sinks himself into your warmth, arms wrapped around you, and strawberry vanilla has never smelled sweeter than when he’s taking in the scent from your hair and neck.

“thanks,” you say— the first time he’s heard your voice again after those god awful years. it’s dry, there’s snark in your tone, and god he could die right now and say thank you to the heavens because you haven’t changed one bit. “but if you really did, why’d it take you so long for you to say it then?”

there’s knot in his throat. there’s a gap between you when jaemin pulls himself off, pulls himself together. but just when he’s about to fill you in on the past six years— why things ended, why he couldn’t say a word, why he’s never stopped missing the memory of you smiling through your teeth in between the strawberry-vanilla dessert— the kitchen doors slide open.

“hyung.”

and the smell of rusty chlorine rinses the air.

“the food is ready. time to eat.”

send me a kpop boy (txt/enha/zb1/bnd/dream) to toss into reverse harem hell!

[imperiallife]

Tastes of the Empire: The Feast of Prosperity, a True Culinary Adventure!

Food by Jaa Val-Izen Cyone

Honey-glazed K'lor'slug beckons Feast-goers with the succulent sweet-savory flesh of its legs and tail.

Oh, to have the fortune to patronize Nar Shaddaa these past glorious weeks! What an inspired festival has come to the planet - and as a melting pool of exotic beings, cultures, and flavors, there is no better place for it!

I speak, of course, of the Feast of Prosperity, the culinary creation of Hutt partners Gaboorga and Duuba. Equally part charity, part five-star Mch'lin Platter pop-up restaurant, part galactic safari, and part dinner theatre, the Feast beckons everyone from every background to attend. And how it delivers!

A true shame that Imperial Life's occasional food critic Alaric Faro could not be bothered to provide a full review of the cuisine on offer this time last year ... despite being a food critic. I could not let readers down, and I am pleased to report that a round-trip cruise to Nar Shaddaa this season would not be poorly timed!

The exclusive skyrise dining experience is a-whirl with groan-worthy scents and tastes!

The height of the feast's culinary creations populate a limited menu of five plates curated by none other than Head Chef Popotis himself! With such plates as Roast Bog Snarler featuring succulently crisped skin and sweet tubers; luminescent Swamp Lentil Soup steeped with earthy glowshooms, cream, and savory oils; or the "Full Huttese" Breakfast Platter of delectable grophet bacon, soft-boiled nuna eggs, spiced n' diced desert tubers, and "2D" flatcakes with stewed vormfruit and snow-sugar, there is something to fit every palate! If you come with a Hutt-sized appetite, you can opt for the course menu instead of a la carte, and have the privilege of sampling each and every dish.

For the select and fortunate few - those privileged enough to contribute to the the Hutts' fundraising efforts - an even more exclusive dining experience is on offer. Head Chef Popotis has acquired the rarest of ingredients for his most delectable appetizers in the donors' lounge: savory rancor liver spread, electric crysfang chromatophore plates, and tender orlax hearts on the side of rare-strain kibla greens dressed with sunseed drizzle. These samplers wouldn't be complete, of course, without miniature crisp-pastries filled with wraid ampulla jelly, fried ice cat whiskers decking salted caramel orbs, Dantooine cheeses garnished with parasitic clingmoss and glowfruits, or thermal-boundary softnut soups topped with the captivating subtelty of nova-yellow poola blossom threads.

If the accessibility of Popotis' exclusive menus is a sticking point, then you get to experience the Adventure Kitchen at Bog's Bounty Banquet Hall where apprentice chefs re-enact the master chef's favorites - with their own regional flair, of course! And possibly also constrained by ingredients not yet fetched by the adventurers-for-hire. But fear not, each plate is crafted under the expert tutelage of Popotis' own J4-SN chef droid, affectionately nicknamed, "Jason."

Chef droid "Jason" lurks over the work of apprentice chefs. Beware its spinning blades!

Like the exclusive menu, the Adventure Menu is also limited, and just to two meals at any given time. Wander in and out of the Feast grounds over the course of a week to sample Jellied Glowshroom Stew, Spicy Nexu Supreme, Exotic Medley Delight, Braised Scyk Belly, or the Ultimate Galactic Sampler. The randomness of the ingredients ensures that each taste experience will be perfectly unique! Your Spicy Nexu Supreme might one day consist of painfully tender grilled nexu tongue over enticingly charred, sweet vormfruit with rich primeval marrow butter and a thick, chunky nexu gravy ... while another day will see your grilled nexu paired with melt-in-your-mouth bekbek root mash - or crisped fries! - and salted ice sauce with cooling crystal bits to help offset that spicy kick. Your Glowshroom Stew might be a shroom-lover's delight, packed with nothing but earthy blue and green shroomflesh in a thick, creamy just-iced gel ... or it could be an unexpected carnivore's dream with delectably fatty scyk belly and surprise choice of fruit to brighten the dish! Likewise, your Galactic Sampler could take you on a vegetarian tour of the lushest garden planets, or surprise you with the sliminess of vel slug, the crispy tenderness of scyk belly, and the dense luxury of nexu - all on the same plate! Your sauces might be savory or tangy, thick or thin, creamy or icy! Your spices could be any combination of savory Gloambean sauce, brain-bending Black Hole pepper, tingly Comet Dust, or even Jason's secret seasoning. The surprise is sure to compel you back for another taste!

Enjoy all that as the Hutts stage a cooking duel as the event's finale, with a taste-off between the sophistication of Chef Popotis and the rival homemade, nostalgic goodness of Chef Nuura Yendo. Who might the winner be? You'll just have to visit to find out!

It takes the heart of an adventurer to brave the Feast of Prosperity!

Jaa Val-Izen Cyone represents a fresh and inspired look at the finest of Imperial cuisine - and of cuisines across the Galaxy! Multi-talented and multi-opinionated, his is the reliable, down-to-earth word any reader of Imperial Life can trust. Unafraid to sample even the most outlandish dishes, Jaa travels far and wide to taste flavors from the most homely to the most sophisticated. If it's a fair shake you need, look no further than Jaa Cyone - soon to be the most trusted culinary word on the street.

[mahi-does-some-art]

Any headcanons for how different Servamp characters prefer their smores

These may be the most important headcanons I'll ever write ever, anon.

Mahiru: Simple is best! Usually won't get too fancy with it-- Likes his marshmallow with that perfect golden-brown crust. Before he would be confused why some people would burn the marshmallow so much it caught on fire but Sakuya convinced him to try it once and was surprised that it wasn't horrible.

Kuro: Would either toast his marshmallow golden-brown or where there's be some black char spots but not where the whole thing is burnt. He had the idea to put ice cream on top of his smore once and started doing that without fail.

Sakuya: He burns the fucking thing like no tomorrow and swears its one of the best ways to do it. Other than that, also normally makes a standard smore with the gram crackers and candy bar chocolate. He'll also always have sticky hands no matter how careful he is. This boy cannot make a smore that doesnt ooze onto his fingers.

Tetsu: Is very skilled at getting the marshmallow perfectly cooked. Likes his marshmallow golden brown.

Hugh: He condems under roasted marshmallows like he won't eat a whole family pack of uncooked marshmallows straight out the bag. Something about the integrity of a s'more. He has a habit of roasting the thing, sliding the crust off and eating it and repeat till there's nothing left.

Mikuni: This pretentious asshole likes to use the expensive bar chocolate on his s'mores and will swear its better. He'd probably try to make his own marshmallows to roast and after that he's even more snobbish about it. He'll still eat the normal s'more he's offered. Likes his marshmallow with a couple small charred bits.

Jeje: Will fully burn the marsh. Mikuni thinks he's a psychopath for it and God Forbid he burns one of his Eve's homemade ones.

Licht: Will eat the marshmallow no matter as long is its not fully burnt. He has tried it burnt and he rambled on angrily about how it was a slight to such a deliciously holy treat. Using the normal candy bar chocolate and store-bought gram crackers are very special to him and he prefers it that way.

Hyde: Unintentionally scorched his marshy ONCE and got kicked out of his chair for it. Perfers his the perfect golden-brown. He'll get a little bowl of hot fudge to dip his in and it's perfection.

Freya: Doesn't like anything burnt when it comes to it. Will shake up a can of whipped cream and put some on the top of her s'more. It always gets on the tip of her nose and she can't eat a smore cleanly at all wwwww

Iduna: Golden-brown to somewhat charred. Her mess is even worse than Freya's and she always gets goopy hands. She says it's part of the experience.

Niccolo: Likes his with a few char spots and a side of ice cream. Doesn't mix them but likes to eat them both as a pair.

Ildio: It literally doesn't matter, he'll eat it. Even after he starts slowing down and is able to actually taste it, he likes all forms of marshymallow so he's not picky on this front.

Misono: Ate a burnt s'more once and swore never again. Likes his marshy golden brown or a little undercooked. The high quality ingredients the Alicein get makes for an extra yummy s'more. Guess that's where Mikuni gets it from.

Lily: Actually likes his marshy golden to burnt. He likes the flavor of it. Actually perfers it being in the form of a s'more's flavored macaron with toasty marshmallow fluff filling. He likes the texture of the macaron cookies paired with a bit of the crunch of the gram crackers.

I'm not gonna do the rest of Team M bc its 2am and I'm drawing lol. Plz add onto this if you have any opinions!

[shylighthi]

@breannasfluff - Finish the Prompt: LU Style!

Fluff <3

Hyrule wipes his forehead and turns to Wild with hopeful eyes. “So? How did I do?”

Wild’s face does this funny thing where it goes through too many emotions at once and ends up scrunched. “Well…six fires in just three hours is your personal best! The only problem is that we’re making fruit salad…”

“I need to cook the fruit!”

“Well, about that…”

“And then there’s that sauce you wanted me to add to it.”

“Which is… warmed in a pan.”

“And don’t get me started on the whipped cream!"

They both turn to look at the jar which once held cream and now holds…chuchu jelly. And maybe some butter.

It’s at this moment that Legend walks in and freezes, sniffing the air. “Do I even want to know?”

“Ledge!” Hyrule grabs a spoonful of something from his bowl and holds it out. “Taste this and tell me what you think!”

The veteran is dubious, but at a nod from Wild, accepts the spoon. Then his face scrunches up because it tastes–

-good… Legend had frozen in place. He looks down at the spoon and blinks a few times because this didn't taste burnt like the rest of the room smelled.

Hyrule frowned assuming the worst from Legend's pause. Wild smiled sympathetically at Hyrule and put a hand on his shoulder, ready to go into mother cuccoing mode.

“It's.. it's good, Hyrule.”

Wild and Hyrule matched Legend's previous expression of shock. “What?” Wild didn't mean to sound like he didn't have any faith in the meal.

Legend offered the spoon and Wild took it with more haste than he intended. He scooped out some of the concoction. The second it hit his mouth he was almost overwhelmed by it. Somehow, it was sweet with a bit of salt, a little tangy, probably from the chu chu jelly but the fruit had no burnt taste to it despite being charred in some places. “It has a weird aftertaste but it really is good.”

Hyrule was almost vibrating with excitement. “Really? You really think so?” Wild offered him the spoon. Hyrule tasted it and a moment later wrapped his arms around Wild.

Wild smiled and hugged him back. “You did good, Rulie.”

Legend put a hand on Hyrule's back. “Maybe we can learn some things from you. I mean, I want to know how you accomplished this, both of you. If I didn't know any better, you stole this from the castle!”

Hyrule looked up at Legend, his eyes watering. Legend jerked his hand away. Had he said something wrong? No, because in the next moment, Hyrule had launched himself off of Wild and pulled Legend into a crushing hug. “Thank you.”

Legend smiled and hugged Hyrule in return. “Shouldn't be thanking me for the truth.”

Wild joined their hug a moment later, wrapping an arm over each of them. “You should join us next time, Legde! Your ice rod would have helped us a lot.”

Legend glanced over to the burnt pots before closing his eyes and relaxing. “I can see that.. maybe I will.”

[rapunzelforlorn]

I made my friend watch heartstopper and I got his reactions for you to all enjoy

Ep 1

Fuck Ben!

Elle actually trans?

FUCK BEN!!

Rugby bros nice & accepting

Charlie is him

FUUUUUUUCKK BEN!!!!

Is ig the main communication method?

Does "x" mean more than kisses?

Ep 2

Charlie is just so supportive

Ben gives the ick

Let people have crushes

Why do school dynamics in shows never feel like they do in real life?

Tori's an odd one

Upset we got robbed Charlie getting his haircut and stressing too the barber

Nellie's barks fake??

What friends play in the snow like this?

Nick's mom read him like a book

Rocketman can't play drums lol

WHY'S THE TENSION SO GOOD 😫

Loving the comic effects

Tori is SO weird

Floor person confirmed bi

Ep 3

Nick going through the queer rabbit hole, fuck that's depressing 😔

Do we like Imogen?

Feel bad for Tao 😔

What's with the sequined clothes?

Tao's a bit dramatic

Fuck Harry

Fuck Ben again!!

Good on Charlie standing up to him

Tao IS dramatic

Imogen is a bit much but not bad?

Who throws parties like this??

Is this a hotel?

The sneaker squeak breaking the silence

God I miss this nervous tension

Nick absolute Golden retriever

Ep4

A boy, talking about his feelings?!?!

Nick never got that jumper

Imogen is too much lol still not sure if we like her

Tao & Elle?

Does this art teacher have a name??

Mr. Arjiya?

Gay people sport

I really want one of these rugby boys to step and be supportive of Charlie being on this team

Imogen...kinda annoying

ANNOYING

Ally 🤣

Tao🤜vs🤛Nick 🙈

Harry's a twat

Nick looking genuinely upset about being "friends"

There's nothing wrong with worrying about your teammate¡!!!!

Nick being ambushed, not cool

Not sure Imogen is bad, annoying yes, but doesn't know better

Ep5

Fuck monopoly

Not Imogen's dog 😭😭😭

Nick's so conflicted and it hurts

Saturday came so fast??

Tao's hair flaps gets me everytime

Wait...what about imogen???

Tao's overprotective, heart in the right place

Not the strongly worded DM 😭

Tao quick to judge

Smooching!!!

Tao & Elle 😏

Imogen, good friend?

Ep6

Nick has good taste in pirate movies

PotC confirmed Bi movie

Bi panic

Friends to lovers pipeline

Why does it always happen in band rooms?

Girl, with very queer haircut - "never would've guessed you were gay"

The ice cream truck song?

Anti-homiphobia cheese

Picnic bants

Shout out to this vlogger

Tara is SUCH a good friend

Such a supportive group

Charlie's excitement for the official date!!

What is this magical milkshake shop???

Where do they get date money?

Tao being oblivious 😐

A concert after all that dairy?!?!

Nick saying he might be bisexual and then saying I'm not sure feels very bixeual

Poor Tara

Tao having the longest legs and being the slowest runner

The subtle carhart on Nick's coat 😂

Ep7

Why is Tori so weird??

Charlie needs to work on standing up for himself

Rugby lad 😂

Sweet popcorn 🤢

Char?

Harry needs to piss off

Ben's a fucking creep AND a pos

Nick standing up to Harry, mint

Nick's mom know? Motherly intuition?

I really need Charlie to stand up for himself, love that he has people in his corner but I need him to step up

The "s" word

Art teacher complaining about crumbs like the counters & cabinets aren't stained with paint

Tao 😔

Elle's fits tho

Tao holding his own against Harry 👀

Tao & Charlie 😭😭

Ep 8

Harry's a twat, Tori confirmed

Tori still weird but good sister

Issac has been unbothered and in his lane all season, we stan

Don't you have to fill out papers to quit a team?

Nick & Tao bonding

Tao is good friend

Seeing the "typing..." appear & disappear is such a relatable agony

Elle is her

Why don't we have a sports day?

What's the point of all girls/boys school if they're seemingly right next to each other and constantly intermingling

FUCK OFF BEN

Charlie...STANDING UP FOR HIMSELF?? 👏👏

Charlie & Tao hugging it out 🥺

Kinda want more Issac

Tao & Elle 👀👀👀👀

Kith? No kith 😖

The principle over the intercom 🤣

Nick & Charlie locking eyes in the rugby match

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

The walk off!!!!!

Issac still unbothered and in his book lmao

"I believe you" 😭💜😭💜

Seagulls do not mean beach but okay

Proper date antics 💜💜

The beach is all rocks?

"In a romantic way, not just a friend way" 🤣

And they were boyfriends

We love a supportive mum

Ending with a montage, love to see it

All in all I think he formed the correct opinions but don't worry I WILL be educating him about baby angel Tori and solitare.

[delopsia]

del 🌼🍰🩷🌷💓 (i’ll let you decide if you’d like to include why or any headcanon-y tidbits that pop into your lovely noggin) 💐 but if you had to assign one for each man (hawthorn au rhett & robby)…

hotdog / hamburger 

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast)

onion rings / french fries

milkshake / soda float 

autumn / spring

cake / pie

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat (cowboy or ballcap)

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat

cats / dogs

most likely to text / most likely to call

(in the event of needing only one vehicle) who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun

big spoon / little spoon

Omg hello 🌷🍓💕

hotdog / hamburger Bobby is absolutely a hotdog kind of guy; he's the primary reason they appear at every Dagger Cookout. He can find Hamburgers near every fast food chain, so when he gets the chance, he'll absolutely go for a hotdog, but that's only if they're pan-fried or off the grill. They've gotta be a little bit charred.

Rhett loves to give him trouble for the amount of toppings he'll put on them, too. It's a remnant from when he was in college; his momma got him one of those indoor grills, and the only thing he could really afford to grill was hotdogs. At some point, he got bored of the flavor and learned to experiment 🌭

Rhett is the hamburger guy; it's just something he's learned to appreciate after a lifetime of raising beef cattle. He's pretty damn good at finding the good stuff, too, and fortunately enough, he's decently handy at operating a grill. It's the one thing he can cook, and he's damn proud of it.

pancakes / waffles (or a secret third thing, french toast) Rhett's heavily on the side of waffles; he likes that they're crispier than pancakes. Sometimes, he'll add chocolate chips or eat 'em plain without syrup; it depends on what he's craving.

Bob though? Die-hard french toast lover. Especially when he can add berries to them. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, together or individually. He'll even add some banana every now and then. Momma Floyd used to make them every Saturday morning, and they never fail to take him right back to his childhood.

Until Rhett drives by and steals a bite, at least.

onion rings / french fries A part of me likes to reckon that Rhett was the french fry lover until Bob finally convinced him to give them a second try. Come to find out, not every onion ring tastes like the vile ones he got from that Wabang gas station. Now you've got to beat him back with a broom to keep him from stealing one or three.

milkshake / soda float  Bobby adores his milkshakes, especially if there's a cherry involved 🤍 but he's been known to lean over and steal some of Rhett's beloved rootbeer float every now and again.

autumn / spring Rhett's an autumn soul. It's the prime season of his favorite sport, that time of year when his flannel and jeans aren't too hot or too cold. He's been known to come in with a leaf clinging to the brim of his hat as well 🍁

Bobby is spring. His allergies absolutely hate the season to its core, but he loves to venture out and see all the new flowers. You've gotta be careful with him because he'll go out and buy a bunch of flowers to plant in the garden, and he'll be sick before he's even got them out of the truck 🌷

cake / pie Pie and cake is a funny thing in this house. Rhett adores ice cream cake, but if it's not that, then he'll tell you that he likes pie (it's because Bobby makes them). Robby enjoys both, but he leans toward fruit-flavored pies. Now if you pull out a cake with fruit in/on it...

usually in a hat / almost never in a hat. Rhett has to be pried out of his hat; it's a little bit ridiculous. He's so used to needing one around the ranch that he just? Doesn't? Know how to act without one? He feels naked if he steps outside without one. And then there are the days when he's so tired that he walks into the house and forgets to take it off...

Bob isn't a fan of wearing them because they tend to mess up his hair, but sometimes Rhett will notice him squinting in the sunlight and offers up a spare. However, he isn't above stealing Rhett's cowboy hat in the privacy of their own home. Sometimes, Rhett will be sitting on the couch, and he'll see his own hat pass by in the corner of his eye.

chocolate flavored treat / fruit flavored treat Fruit and Bobby go together way too well; if the name mentions fruit, then he's more than likely gonna reach for it. Rhett? Cannot be separated from chocolate. Cheap, expensive, obscure, it doesn't matter. Their tastes collide for chocolate covered fruits 🍓

cats / dogs Cats are universally loved, but Bob is the true cat guy. He can walk into a room, and every cat in the vicinity will wind up in his lap. Likewise, Rhett can take a nap in the barn and more often than not, wakes up to a barn kitty on his chest. But he's truly a dog person; he's found half a dozen strays and converted them to ranch puppies.

most likely to text / most likely to call Bob is the texter. He's not all that great at filling the silence during phone calls. He just can't think of anything to say, you know? Unfortunately for him, Rhett has big thumbs and sometimes struggles to type on that tiny little screen, so he just calls without warning.

who’s driving / who’s riding shotgun Rhett loves to be the driver, given that he's in a semi-rural area/not in a city. The winding roads unravel all the worries that have collected up in his head. Robby loves riding shotgun; getting to lay back and gaze out the window is one of his favorite parts of being in the truck. There are so many things you don't notice when you're doing the driving! But he will get motion-sick if you put him in the backseat, so his riding options are somewhat limited.

big spoon / little spoon Big spoon Bobby! It's his favorite thing. He doesn't get to feel "big" a lot in his life, he's never been noticeably muscular or had a presence that fills the room before he enters. In fact, he didn't experience it a whole lot until Rhett and Reader wandered into his life.

He's obsessed with the feeling it gives him, like a pillar in the wind, warding off anything that could ever hurt whoever is snuggled into his arms. Rhett, in particular, triggers a sort of protectiveness Bob didn't realize he had. This massive, tough-as-nails cowboy trusts him this much? Ugh.

Likewise, Rhett adores being able to exchange his strength for vulnerability. It's nice to feel protected, especially when he's spent so much of his life being the protector. He's funny when he gets to fall into that role because he loves to snuggle his head over Bob/Reader's chin. He can and will fall asleep like that. Rough and tumble cowboy by day and oversized cuddle bug by night?

[mystery-talks-chaos]

Yippee new story!

(Staring Tails and Amy! Why? Because we needd more for the two!)

Word count: 1835

Tails turned around as he heard Amy sigh from beside him.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, tilting his head in a way Amy can only describe as adorable. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Amy said, looking down at the basket she was picking. It was slightly over half-way full, which was more than Tails could say considering his wasn’t even quarter way full.

 

It was on of those, quite moments, Amy enjoyed having around Tails. The two would go out doing an activity, spending time together, without saying anything... Just enjoying the other's company. 

 

True, it was weird sometimes, wanting to say something to fill the silence; however, at moments like these, the silence was something that fit.

 

The two of them were there picking strawberries for Amy to make her infamous strawberry cake. (Which wasn't really infamous considering Tails claimed to have not tasted it once. Something Amy refused to let past!)

 

“We should do things like this more often,” Amy said with a small smile, looking at the young fox beside her.

 

“Yeah! We should!” Tails exclaimed, raising a fist to the air. “I love doing things like this with you! I wish we could always do things like this together! Too bad we are always stuck trying to stop Eggman…” Tails said, mumbling the last part.

 

Unbeknownst to Tails, Amy actually heard it, and was truthfully thinking the same thing.

 

Amy always wondered how her life would have been if she hadn’t met Sonic on Mushroom Island, and if she didn’t follow him…

 

Would she have been living a normal life? A life like all the girls her age?

 

It was a weird thought she concluded. Sometimes, she was sad that she gave up her chance to live a normal peaceful life… One where she didn’t have to worry about fighting, or about what next robot Eggman would bring next. Nor about whether they would be able to succeed in stopping Eggman’s next plan. Nor about whether this would be the last time she would see her friends laughing in front of her…

 

Other times, however, she was glad that she left it! If she hadn’t followed Sonic, she would never have been able to meet all her friends, or meet out with them, like she was now with Tails…

 

Speaking of the kit, she wondered how it was for him… 

 

He was Sonic’s side-kick… Sonic’s right hand… Sonic’s partner in crime…

 

But… he was still a kid. 

 

Even younger than Amy! 

 

Only seven years old… 

 

He hasn’t even reached his double digits…

 

If it was this hard for Amy, how hard was it for him?

 

Seeing all the kids his age play in playgrounds, and whine over having candy, or because they are forced to do a chore…

 

Tails never got that privilege, as far as Amy was concerned…

 

Amy might not know too much about the kid’s past; however, it was clearly obvious that he wasn’t half as privileged as the other kids his age!

 

Like, this seven (SEVEN) year old goes to fight huge robots, which scare even the bravest of people, without a second thought. And he’s been doing it for so long that it seems to have just become a habit to him… Like it was nothing out of the ordinary…

 

Amy wondered how he felt… 

 

Does he regret staying with Sonic? Giving up his chance of a normal life, to fight against a mad man on a weekly basis at least…

 

“Not really…” Tails whispered, looking down at the tiny strawberry in his hand. 

 

Amy’s head snapped to the kit beside her. Had she said that out loud?

 

“Really? Like… you don’t regret it at all?” Amy asked, hesitating a bit when asking.

 

“Like I said, I don’t think I regret it,” Tails said, finally popping the tiny strawberry he was holding into his mouth. “I mean think about it! If I hadn’t stayed with Sonic, then I wouldn’t have met Knuckles, or Shadow, or Cream, or Charmy, or Vector, or any one else! I wouldn’t have met you! How can I regret meeting you?!”

 

Amy chuckled a bit at his response, before opening her mouth. “But don't you regret giving up your chance of having a normal life? Like, you could have been living with your family if you didn’t stay with Sonic! You could have a lot more friends! A lot more friends your age! You could be stressing about a test, or what you will have for lunch tomorrow rather than what Eggman’s next plan is!”

 

Amy knew she said something wrong when Tails’ ear folded back and his eyes glanced down at the floor.

 

“I wouldn’t be living like that if I hadn’t met Sonic,” Tails whispered, his voice wavering in a way Amy has never heard before.

 

 True, Amy might have known Tails for a long time, but she has never seen him this vulnerable. His feet shifting against each other, hands tightening against the basket he was holding… Tails might not have the same enthusiasm as Sonic when fighting; however, he never ever backed away from a fight, no matter how outnumbered he was. Amy and the group often referred to this as one of the many things he has got from Sonic, much to the youngsters embarrassment.

 

Back on topic, Amy didn’t know what he meant when he said that…

 

What did he mean that he wouldn’t have lived like that? Did he not have parents? Then again, him not having parents would make sense as he lives with Sonic as Sonic’s younger brother, and as far as she was aware they had no parents?

 

Was Tails an orphan? Was that what he was coming at?

 

From experience, Amy knew that the best way to get information and to get people to warm up was to listen. So that’s what she would do.

 

“What do you mean?” Amy asked quietly.

 

“If… I hadn’t met Sonic… I… I wouldn’t be… half as happy as I am now…” Tails said, his eyes glued to the floor, as tears threatened to spill.

 

Amy couldn’t do anything but stare at the kit in front of her. His legs were shaking as they struggled to hold his weight, and his eyes were shut tight in an attempt to block out tears from flooding out. 

 

After using a second to regain her senses, Amy quickly put a hand on Tails' shoulder in comfort.

 

What she didn’t expect, however, was for Tails to flinch, hard, and take a step back in fear, before tripping over his basket, and falling on the ground. Tails then pulled his legs to his stomach and used his Tails as some sort of shield.

 

Amy could hear Tails’ small whimpers, which broke her heart, and made her regret thinking about the whole thing in the first place.

 

“P-P-Please! Pl-please d-don’t hurt m-me! I-I wo-won’t do it ag-again! Pr-Promise!” A meek voice said. It took Amy a second to notice that it was no other than Tails pleaing.

 

Amy immediately went down to her knees, hoping she could help her young friend out.

 

“Hey, Tails, its just me… Don’t worry… I’m here… No one’s going to hurt you!” Sadly, though, Amy’s attempts to calm Tails down were in vain, as the young fox started pleaing louder.

 

Amy then remembered something her parents used to do to her when she was younger…

 

Slowly, and carefully, Amy placed her hand on top of the tiny kit, and slowly moved it back and forth. After a few seconds, Amy could hear his cries quieting down, and she slowly pulled the little kit to her lap, whispering words of comfort. 

 

“Shh… It’s fine… It’s alright… No one’s going to hurt you…” Amy mumbled into the fox’s ear, knowing very well that he could hear her…

 

The little fox just kept crying, though it was in a more hushed tone. As he slowly loosened up, Amy could see his face, which was stained with tears, his eyes barely open, as though to glance at the person holding him.

 

Once Tails realized it was Amy, he quickly wiped off his tears, and hopped out of Amy’s lap, looking at the floor with embarrassed eyes. 

 

“I-I’m su-super s-sorry, A-Amy!” Tails stuttered through gasps, “I-I didn’t me-mean to cr-cry on you! I’m so-sorry for ge-getting your dr-dress w-wet!”

 

Amy stared at Tails for a good second, trying to get a grasp of what was happening. 

 

Tails… was apologizing… for having a breakdown… Although, it was Amy’s fault for bringing it up, without warning. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have boughten the subject up so randomly.

 

“Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong!” Amy said, making sure her voice was softer than normal. The last thing she needed was Tails being scared by her loud voice.

 

Tails continued rubbing his eyes harshly, before opening his mouth and trying to form some sentences.

 

“I-I ru-ruined it! I ruined yo-your day! It- It was su-supp-osed t-to b-be a fu-fun d-day straw- strawb-berry p-picking! A-and I ru-ruined i-it! A-and no-now your dr-dress i-is w-wet t-too! A-and its a-all my f-fault f-for cry-crying!” Tails said, looking as though he was about to have another breakdown. 

 

Thankfully, he didn’t. Instead he stood there, hands pulling on the fur of his Tails…

 

“Hey… Hey… None of that now!” Amy said, guiding Tails’ hands away from his fur, “You don’t have to be sorry! You did nothing wrong! I’m the one who should be sorry! I never should have said anything!”

 

Tails looked up at Amy with wide, questioning eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, only to be shushed by Amy who took on the job of patting his head.

 

The two sat like that for sometime, enjoying the others’ company. Tails slowly leaned in to Amy pushing his head into her chest snuggling into her warmth. 

 

Amy could feel Tails slowly relax in her arms as she slowly placed her chin on top of his furry head.

 

What could have happened to Tails to make him react so bad to that question?

 

What happened in Tails’ past?

 

Just how much does Sonic mean to Tails?

 

What would have happened to Tails if he never met Sonic?

Amy sighed, those were questions for another day… One thing at a time…

 

When the sun started to set, the two friends decided to head back to Sonic and Tails’ place for the night.

 

(Tails argued that they didn’t get nearly half the amount of strawberries Amy needed for her cake; however, Amy quoted him, saying that they would always come back another day to get some more, and that her recipe would work with the amount they have.)

 

With that the two headed off, keeping the other company…

 

One thing Amy knew was that she was going to find out what was going on with her young friend…

 

(After all, she going to have to know everything about him, if he’s going to be her future brother in law~)

[sniffanimal]

Hey boss do you have an actual recipe for that gyro bowl? Or do you just cook by vibes? Literally have been thinking about that thang for a whole day, lol

So, I've cooked *similar* things from recipe but I was going off pure vibes alone, BUT I can type up what I did in a sort of recipe-esque format for you! This may not be 1:1 exactly what I cooked, but it might be close?

Recipe for Donnie's Gyro Bowl below:

Ingredience (amount of each fed 3 people in excess, so maybe 4 servings?):

1lb Ground Lamb (can be omitted for a vegetarian friendly recipe, or changed for Protein Of Choice)

2 roma tomatoes

1 cucumber

1 zucchini

2 cans of chickpeas

1 large white onion

Dill weed (I ended up having to get dry, but fresh is better!)

Pearl Couscous (1 box, was roughly 2 cups of dry couscous)

greek yogurt (1 little cup of it)

1 lemon, or a decent amount of lemon juice

white wine vinegar

feta

"tuscan seasoning blend" which seems to be mostly basil, oregano, rosemary, thyme, garlic, and fennel.

"taco seasoning" which I used mostly for its cayenne, i would have liked to use paprika and cayenne together instead of relying on taco mix

Garlic powder (again, would have liked at least minced garlic if not fresh)

onion powder

red pepper flakes

Olive oil, butter, salt, and pepper

preheat oven to 400f. Dice tomato and zucchini (keeping them separate), and halve then slice thinly the onion. Zest and halve the lemon then juice into a bowl/cup. Dice half the cucumber, then grate the other half on the medium/large size holes on a box grater (or really finely chop it into mush).

Put the diced cucumber and half the tomatoes in a bowl and add half a cup of white wine vinegar and some warm water. Add a few tsp of lemon juice, salt, pepper, and Dill. Allow to quick pickle while everything else cooks.

drain chickpeas well and mix in a bowl with olive oil and what feels like the right amount of tuscan seasoning and taco mix powder. the peas should look well coated but not like Caked with Seasoning. Toss to mix and then spread out in a single layer on a greased cookie sheet. Bake for ~25 minutes depending on your oven. They might make popping sounds while cooking, be not afraid.

Melt a little butter in a pot and then add the couscous to toast it a bit before adding the same amount in water and then a little extra, maybe 1/4 cup extra. Stir in a generous amount of garlic and onion powders and boil for uhhh a bit until all the water has been absorbed. If couscous is undercooked and all the water is absorbed then add some more and cook until done. Keep warm until ready to serve.

In another pan, melt a bit more butter then add the lamb, stirring to break it up and brown it. I added a lot of the seasonings in different amounts, and some chili pepper flakes. Once cooked through, add half the tomato to cook with it. Once the tomato is soft and the lamb is fully cooked, remove from the pan and keep warm.

To the ~juices~ from the cooked lamb in the pan, add the zucchini and onion and cook well until the zucchini is soft and charred and the onions are soft. Season with Salt, Pepper, and Dill. Add more butter or oil if you didn't have any animal fats left over from meat.

To the greek yogurt, add the shredded cucumber, some lemon juice, dill, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine and taste to see if it's balanced.

To serve, put a layer of couscous at the bottom of the bowl, followed by chickpeas, the meat mix, the cooked veggies, the cucumber tomato salad, and then tzatziki sauce. Top with crumbled feta cheese.

The dish has such a mix of great flavors and textures and temperatures and heat and cream and lemon sour and its all just really really delicious. It did take maybe 40 minutes for me to cook but was soooooo worth it new favorite thing to cook for people.

Also if you were wondering, I went to the grocery store to buy everything I needed to make it more or less and it was about $35 and fed 3-4. The real expensive parts were the dill and the lamb, so those comprised $20 of it. If you already have dill, and omit or change the meat, it's a lot cheaper. Also its 2024 and groceries are expensive as hell.

[aardrian]

Classic diner converted to Indian fusion restaurant.

Kashmiri deviled eggs: Indian spiced deviled egg, fried curry leaf.

Thai basil cooler: lime, Thai basil, cucumber, soda.

Lentil coated (podi) seared salmon: masala mashed potatoes, charred broccolini, mango chutney puree.

Gulab jamun waffle a la mode: warm buttermilk GF waffle, cardamom saffron syrup, vanilla ice cream.

The entire meal was tasty. A novel experience of familiar foods with unexpected flavors. The GF waffle tasted great, but the texture was a bit like plastic (melted G.I. Joes), which means I was glad I did not get the chicken and GF waffle dinner.

@ Rosebud Indian-American Bar & Kitchen

[chefilona]

CHEF ILONA: MEXICAN STREET CORN PASTA SALAD

Pastas are an easy way to feed a crowd. Serve it up simply on a platter in family-style fashion, or plated for a lingering estival repast. One of the precious parts of summer dining in Canada is that we can enjoy our meals either indoors or al fresco. Dining al fresco can be as elaborate or as simple as  you like, and is about the experience of unwinding. 

Mexican street corn, or “elote” is a staple of the street food scene in Mexico City. The word elote comes from the Nahuatl word for corn, and this dish is thought to have originated with the Aztecs. Elote is grilled corn on the cob covered in melted butter, mayo, chili powder, cotija cheese, and lime.

This recipe is a great place to use the glut of herbs in your summer garden. I think it’s almost impossible to have too many fresh soft herbs. If you have chives or edible flowers in your garden, add in to the mix with reckless abandon.

*********** Noodle size is important to consider for each pasta dish you make. It is often better to have a noodle that is of a similar size the rest of the ingredients in the dish, so you can enjoy a bit of everything in one bite.

Mexican Street Corn Pasta Salad Chef Ilona Daniel Serves 6

 1 lb short pasta noodles (such as ditali, rotini, fiorelli, fusilli, or other as preferred), cooked according to package directions

1 cucumber, sliced in half-way lengthwise, seeded and sliced into half-moons)

½ cup cilantro, roughly chopped

½ - 1 cup mild pickled jalapenos, chopped

½ cup red onion, small dice

1 cup cotija (or feta cheese), crumbled

3 cobs of corn

6 radishes, sliced thinly

3 green onions, sliced thinly on a bias for garnish

Dressing:

1 ½ cups sour cream

½ cup mayonnaise

½ cup lime juice, freshly squeezed

1-2 Tablespoons Hot Sauce (I prefer a Mexican hot sauce here)

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon onion powder

2 teaspoon ground cumin

2 Tablespoons cilantro, chopped

 To prepare the dressing, combine all ingredients in a bowl, and stir to combine.

When tossing the noodles and other ingredients with the dressing, reserve ¼ cup to drizzle over the top of the salad as part of the garnish.

 For the salad:

 To enhance the visual appeal of the dish, reserve a little of all the vegetables to arrange over the top of the dressed pasta salad.

 In a large frying pan over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil.

Add corn to the pan and cook until the corn is slightly browned.

–OR--

Brush corn with oil and season with salt to taste. Grill over medium-high heat for 5-10 minutes, turning throughout, until kernels begin to char. Allow to cool slightly before using a sharp knife to cut kernels from the cobs.

 In a large bowl, toss all the ingredients (except for the vegetables and cheese you’re saving for garnish) with all but ¼ cup of the dressing. Place pasta salad onto a plate and arrange with remaining vegetables and cheese. Drizzle remaining dressing over the top, and if desired, feel free to sprinkle a small amount of chili powder over the surface of the salad for added depth.

[miccru-kitsutail1]

Hello everyone to another Duck Bites. The food blog for food lovers and food from video game, movies and shows that people enjoy.

Today food we are cooking is from a recipe from the fallout cookbook called Vault Tec's Meaty Chili.... oh wait scratch that it's now Carol's Mystery meat stew from Fallout 4.

The ingredients are...

1 whole poblano pepper

1 large yellow bell pepper

1 large red bell pepper

1-2 onion (1 medium or 2 smalls)

Oil for the peppers/onion

Oil for the cooking part

1lb of beef

( it says 1lb of lamb meat in the book but if you don't like lamb or can't find it or can't afford it another pound of beef is good to substitue)

2 tsp of salt

1 tsp of B.pepper

2 1/2 TBSP ground Cumin

3TBSP chili powder

1 TBSP brown sugar

2TBSP ground coffee

1TBSP ground Fenugreek ( if you can't find in the local super market, either the authentic India markets or the internet is the best place to get them.)

2 tsp worcestershire sauce

4 cloves of garlic ( if small 5 cloves is good )

1 Jalapeño seeded and Diced

1 can of red beans ( you can add as much beans you like, it's up to you)

1 28 oz of Diced tomatoes canned

3 bay leaves.

Step 1. Turn your oven at 450 degrees, on a baking tray brush your peppers( not the Jalapeño) and onion in oil. Once your oven is at temp. Place the tray in the oven until its charred up. ( In culinary terms it's called Blister because your burning the skin so it will be easy to peel the skin.)

( If you have a Gas stove, skip this process and add them to the flames and let it blister)

Step 2. While that is Blistering, gather all your Mise en Place (means in French Everything it's in place. Its a Culinary term to organize and gather all your ingredients Instead of scrambling and messing up the recipe.)

( I got whole Fenugreek instead of powder, best thing to do is toast them like a minute or 2 and grind them up to have more intense flavors )

Step 3. Once your peppers and onions are done, place them in a bowl wrapping up a plastic wrap and poke wholes to let steam to get out. Wait for 30 minutes or their cool to the touch ( what your doing is creating steam, it's so hot inside that it's continuing to cook the flesh so they can be soft and tender instead of fully charing the whole peppers. This will make them a smoky taste to the dish. )

Step 4. Once the peppers and onions cool, the skin of the peppers are easy to peel out and the flesh be soft so it's easy to get the seed out. Chop everything up and place it back in the bowl.

Step 5. In a large bowl add oil and on a medium high heat add your meat and brown it.

Step 6. Add your spices and sauce in the pot and stir it up, add the veggies and combine that too as well. Lastly add the tomatoes, beans and bay leaf in the pot and combine everything. Cover with a lid on low and let it simmer for 5 hours.

( Don't forget to stir the pot )

Soooo at the end this was a MEEEEEHHHH type of dish. I added more salt and some bit of spice to it, even added some cheese and sour cream to buff the flavors. At the very end I hope yall enjoy and learn new terms of culinary words

[dracoqueen22]

BlorboWriMo 2024 - Day 19 thru 22

He lets the matter drop. Perhaps once they arrive in Shandara, he can find out more, but for now, it’s clearly a delicate subject. 

The day wears long, but they reach another waycamp just after sunset. There is no convenient pond nearby for Dart to swim and catch a few fish, but Cecil makes a trap of wood and rope that snares a fat rabbit. He doesn’t know what to do with it after he catches it, but the small grin of pride in himself makes Dart’s heart do double-time, the stupid thing. 

Dart may not be able to hunt Dryland beasts with any success, but he knows how to dress and cook them. Clare is an excellent teacher. Not like roasting rabbit is hard, but it throws Cecil for a loop, and now it’s Dart’s turn to show him how it’s done. 

It’s a good meal for the two of them, sharing a log, sat hip to hip and thigh to thigh. None of those distracting potatoes or vegetables. Just roasted meat. Even Dart has to admit that the crunchy skin and greasy meat tastes better charred over a fire than raw. It burns his tongue and drops over his fingers, but messy eating is a small price to pay for deliciousness. 

Cecil’s much cleaner about it, little nibbles and kitten licks, and a small handkerchief he uses to wipe away drips. There’s not so much as a dribble on his chin. 

“Were you never taught manners?” he asks, but at least there’s more curiosity than disgust in the question. 

“Not the Drylander kind.” Dart pops his thumb in his mouth to suck it clean. “The Ori didn’t have much use for ‘em either.” 

“Hmm.” It’s not disgust that has Cecil watching Dart lick his fingers. 

Dart pretends not to notice. He curls his tongue around his knuckles and licks a drip from his wrist. He sucks on his fingertips as Cecil’s stare turns searing. 

This time, Dart tosses the bones into the fire rather than gnaw on them. Cecil would probably find that disgusting and Dart’s trying not to appall Cecil right now. He’s playing nice. 

“Do you want to learn?” Cecil asks. He throws bits into the fire, some of them a waste, but Dart bites his tongue. 

Playing nice sucks. 

“Not really.” Dart shrugs and sucks the last bit of rabbit from his forefinger talon. “What use are they?” 

Cecil’s openly staring now, and Dart smothers his grin. He may be plain average Undersea, but on Dryland, he’s cream of the crop. “Formal dinners, for one,” Cecil says after a moment. 

“Psss. I’ll never be invited to one of those.” Dart waves off the very idea of it. Manners in Undersea are more like, always greeting the Puffer or never turning your back on a crab. “I don’t see any reason to…” 

He trails off as Cecil leans in and gently cups his face, turning him toward Dart. He’s intent, focused, as his thumb rubs at the corner of Dart’s mouth, probably catching a smear of grease. 

“Missed a bit,” he says. 

“Ooops.” Dart flicks his tongue out, tastes the salt on the tip of his tongue. “Guess I’m just a mess.” 

He leans in, and delight rolls through him as Cecil meets him halfway. The kiss is light. Delicate. Like Cecil is unsure of his welcome and wants to test the waters. Well, that’s a little too sweet for Dart. 

He grabs the top of Cecil’s armor and turns the kiss filthy, tongue pushing deep, sweeping the taste of rabbit from Cecil’s mouth. He sucks on Cecil’s tongue in a mimicry of a cock, and drags the tip of his fangs over Cecil’s bottom lip. A sharp inhalation is his reward. 

“You’re wearing too much,” Dart says against Cecil’s mouth. He gives a pointed tug to the armor. 

“We are still in the wilds,” Cecil reminds him, but his hand cups the back of Dart’s neck, holding him close for the kiss. “Tell me what you want.” 

Oh, so many things, most of which he can’t have. 

Dart hums and slithers his way into Cecil’s lap, thighs stretched wide by both Cecil’s hips and the thickness of his armor. “I’d love for you to fuck me,” he says, just to watch the pink spread over the bridge of Cecil’s nose. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “But since we’re ‘in the wilds’ I’ll settle for a handjob.” 

Cecil’s hands settle on his waist, and not for the first time, does Dart appreciate how large they are. Dart’s not a small person. Or at least, he didn't think he was. Lucas and Lysia made him question it, and now Cecil makes him feel tiny, too. Half of it’s the armor, Dart’s pretty sure. 

“You and Cecil are built for two very different purposes,” Sirene says. 

“Shhh. Quiet time now, Cecil’s gonna touch my dick,” Dart replies. 

Sirene makes a disgusted noise and evacuates, which means she’s going to go cuddle Vesper and bask in her wife’s presence, so she can’t be too upset about it. 

“You’ll, err, have to show me what to do,” Cecil says, getting pinker and pinker, but there’s no mistaking his dilating pupils or his quickened breath. 

Dart beams and starts to unlace his trousers. He’s not quite aroused enough for his hemipenes to emerge, but it won’t take long for him to get there. “It’s not that complicated.” He yanks open his pants, revealing his sheath, already starting to swell at just the idea of a little fun. “See?” 

Cecil gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um.” 

“They’re not always out,” Dart says with a laugh. Lysia had the same confused reaction. He grabs Cecil’s hand and pushes his palm against the sheath. “You gotta give ‘em reason to come out.” 

“I won’t hurt you?”

“Not with those nubby things.” Dart waves his other hand, indicating the claws on the tips of his fingers. He tightens his thighs around Cecil’s waist and leans back a little. “Come on. Show me some sword-handling tips.” He waggles his eyebrows. 

“Oh, gods. You’re ridiculous,” Cecil grumps, but he traces his fingertips around the rim of Dart’s sheath, and the gentle friction is a sweet sensation. 

Dart hums, his insides heating. “I’m fun,” he corrects. “Keep going.” 

Cecil takes in a deep breath, and the concentration on his face should not be as adorable as it is. But he’s focused, intent, as he eases one finger inside, and it brushes over Dart’s hemipenes. He shudders, hips pushing toward Cecil’s hand encouragingly. 

“More,” Dart demands. He grabs Cecil’s hand by the wrist and urges his finger deeper, heat knotting deep in his groin with every touch. “Don’t be gentle.” 

“You’re so impatient,” Cecil huffs but he obeys, withdrawing one finger and returning with three. He pushes in, curls, and his fingertips brush over the nerve cluster right along the inside. 

Dart’s spine curls, his whole body throbbing. He moans and keeps his grip on Cecil’s wrist, refusing to let him withdraw. “Yeah, just like that.” He ruts forward in little rocks of his hips as heat pulses into his groin. His hemipenes twitch. 

Encouragement works. Cecil’s bolder now, pushing deeper, his thumb stroking around the outside of Dart’s swelling sheath while his fingers lay rhythmic pressure on his nerves. Dart’s thighs shake. He gnaws on his bottom lip as his pulse starts to race, his hemipenes throbbing, slick and full. 

Dart groans and presses the heel of his free hand above his sheath, pushing down. Pleasure pulses through his groin as his hemipenes emerge, right into Cecil’s hand. They’re slick and hot as he curls curious fingers around them, first one and then the other, the tentative touches more of a tease, but a damn good one. 

Dart leans back up, hooking one arm around Cecil’s neck for more leverage so he can roll up into Cecil’s hand. No, hands. He’s got both of them involved, one around each pene, stroking Dart in slow, careful pulls. Barely any pressure, but his thumbs teasing at the tips at the end of an upstroke. 

“Is this… good?” Cecil asks. 

“Yeah,” Dart pants. He digs the heel of his palm into his abdomen again, more slick oozing out to soak his groin. “You can grip tighter.” He hooks two fingers into his sheath, playing with the sensitive nub right on the inside, right as Cecil gives him a squeezing stroke from root to tip. 

Dart shudders, his toes curling. “Fuck, just like that,” he murmurs, looking down. It’s a gorgeous sight, Cecil’s strong hands wrapped around his hemipenes, all of it glistening with his slick. He throbs in Cecil’s grip and another tight stroke turns him inside out. 

“Your hands are perfect,” he breathes, fingers digging into Cecil’s shoulder. 

“Thanks…?” Cecil strokes him again, then again, and Dart bucks, hips rising into each long, squeezing pull. “Should I do something different?” 

Dart groans. “No, this is perf– wait. Actually.” He pulls his fingers free of his sheath and hooks them in Cecil’s belt. “Get your dick out. I want to play with it, too.” 

It’s a testament to Dart’s will and his lack of selfishness that he’s gracious enough to let Cecil let go of his hemipenes so he can pull out his own dick. There’s more buckles and buttons and ties to get through though, so Dart keeps his hands busy. And his mouth. 

“Surprised it don’t bother you,” he says as he strokes himself.

“Why should it?” Cecil asks, hands fumbling as he struggles to get himself out, smearing Dart’s slick all over his buckles and such. The urgency is adorable. 

Dart shrugs. “Dunno. Had more than a few Drylanders take a look and decide it was too weird for them.” 

“Cowards,” Cecil mutters, like it’s an aside, but also completely genuine. “Was this before or after you sucked their dick?” 

“Or ate them out,” Dart corrects. He pauses, head tilted in thought. “Usually after. Huh. Never put that together before.” 

Cecil clicks his tongue. “Not only cowards, but also selfish.” He pauses mid-buckle. “You deserve better.” 

Heat steals into Dart’s cheeks that has nothing to do with arousal. It’s too hard to meet Cecil’s eyes so he looks away. “I’ll try and remember that.” He clears his throat noisily. “D’you need help with that or am I getting my hand on your dick sometime tonight?” 

“You could really use some manners,” Cecil huffs as he yanks his trousers open, shoves down his smallclothes, and his dick springs right into Dart’s waiting hand. Hot, hard, and already leaking at the tip, shiny with evidence of his want. 

Dart’s mouth waters, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted. “Finally,” he says, and scoots closer, just a few precious inches, enough to slot Cecil’s cock right between his in a delicious glide of heat and slick. 

“Now it’s perfect,” Dart declares as he presses his dicks against Cecil’s and rocks up, thrusting against the firm heat. 

A low groan echoes in Cecil’s throat. “Here. Let me…” He trails off, batting Dart’s hands aside to replace them with his own, encircling all three dicks with those gorgeous hands. 

“You’re a genius.” Dart grabs onto Cecil’s shoulders and uses them for leverage to grind into Cecil’s grip. 

His hands, those big, perfect hands, are a sloppy, slick mess, and Dart loves it. He ruts harder as Cecil squeezes, Cecil’s dick a hot, hard line between his hemipenes. 

“Fuck, I love your hands,” Dart pants and leans in, licking sloppily at Cecil’s mouth until Cecil opens for a kiss, a messy tangle of their tongues. He moans against Dart’s mouth, eyes fluttering shut, his thighs tensing under Dart as well. 

Dart drags his mouth along the curve of Cecil’s jaw and then into the hollow of his throat. Cecil’s pulse is a frantic flutter against his lips. His skin tastes of salt, and when Dart digs in his teeth, Cecil’s whole body judders. A moan vibrates out of his mouth, his hands squeezing harder, pulling faster. 

So Dart does it again, grazing his eyeteeth in a light scratch over Cecil’s skin, pulling a raised line like a mark. He latches onto Cecil’s throat with his mouth, sucks hard, pulls up another mark that Cecil won’t be able to hide, and Cecil bucks up against him. He squeezes, pulls, and ecstasy tightens like a knot in Dart’s groin. 

“Again,” he pants into Cecil’s ear, squeezing their bodies together, Cecil’s hands trapped between them. “Do it again.” 

Cecil makes a noise, a pitched moan, but he obeys so beautifully that Dart’s spine curves, his toes curl, everything goes taut and wonderful until his hemipenes spasm, and he spills, pulsing hot and wet over Cecil’s hands, Cecil’s dick, his armor. He soaks the space between their bodies, teeth digging a bruise into the side of Cecil’s neck. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dart breathes. “You, too. Come on.” He nips his way back to Cecil’s lips, licking his way inside. 

He swallows up Cecil’s groan and turns the kiss filthy. He’s sensitive all over, tingling, but it’s the good kind of sensitive as Cecil keeps stroking, keeps grinding between Dart’s penes until he finally comes, cock spurting hot and wet in their combined mess. He grits a moan from behind clenched teeth, face flushed a pretty pink. 

Dart is determined to really get Cecil to make some noise some day. Everything about him is locked behind a cage of iron control, and Dart’s just itching to break through. 

For now, he licks back into Cecil’s mouth, softens up his jaw until Cecil has no choice but to breathe out his pleasure. He pants against Dart’s lips, hands slowing until he’s wrung every last pulse of pleasure. 

“That was great,” Dart says. Pleasure thrums through his whole body in a happy buzz. Good food, sweet handjob. He’s feeling a bit spoiled right now. 

“Mmm.” Cecil hums what must be agreement but then he looks down between them and sighs. “Except for the unfortunate mess.” 

“Pfft. That’s nothing.” Dart grabs Cecil’s wrists and lifts them up. “I’m used to it,” he says before he starts to clean Cecil’s hand with his tongue. The taste of their mingled spunk gives him a thrill – himself sea-salty and Cecil, that bitter-tart musk. 

“What’re you…” Cecil trails off, his eyes wide. “Why?” 

“Why not?” Dart finishes up one hand and then starts on the other, grinning as he sucks Cecil’s thumb into his mouth. “It’s quicker this way.” 

Cecil’s mouth works for several seconds before he says, “Manners. I really am going to have to teach you manners.” 

Dart puffs out his cheeks. “Are you telling me it’s rude to do this?” He draws Cecil’s middle finger into his mouth and curls his tongue around it. 

“It’s… unseemly,” Cecil says, but his tongue touches his bottom lip, and he’s not pulling his hand away. Sounds a bit like he’s parroting someone else. 

Dart laughs around Cecil’s finger. “Sounds like the Templar have a lot of rules.” 

“It’s not a rule. That’s ridiculous.” The tips of Cecil’s ears burn red. “It’s just… good manners,” he finishes. “Expectations of behavior.” 

Dart lets go with a pop and wrinkles his nose. “Are you allowed to do anything?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Cecil wraps his hands around Dart’s waist and lifts Dart from his lap with seemingly no trouble at all, putting him back on his feet. “Perhaps once we arrive, it’ll become clearer.” 

Dart ignores the little thrill – he really shouldn’t enjoy getting manhandled so much. “Are we close?” 

Cecil frowns at the state of his trousers and tucks himself away. “If all goes well, we should be in Shandara before bedtime.” 

That’s unnerving. Dart thought he’d have a little more time to get used to the idea of it, maybe try and learn more of Cecil’s weaknesses, or figure out some kind of alternative plan. 

“That’s… great,” Dart says. He can’t manage proper enthusiasm to support the statement, so he doesn’t bother. He turns and tucks himself away. “Let’s get that tent set up. It’s going to be another cold one.” 

Cecil wordlessly agrees. 

Dart’s too spooked to be much use, however. After the third time tangling up the mounts, Cecil shoos him off, so Dart plops onto the log and watches Cecil work instead. It’s not a bad view, the fire glittering off Cecil’s armor and horns. The way his breeches cling to his ass, the occasional twitch of his tail, and the way he mutters to himself as he works. 

He sighs. “Any advice for the soon to be imprisoned?” he asks Sirene. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” she replies without missing a beat. 

Dart’s jaw drops. “Seriously?” 

“Yes,” Sirene says, and Dart has never heard her sound so serious. Sirene is less playful as a rule, but her tone leaves no room for interpretation. “Cecil is kind, but Commander Menelaus will not find you or your rudeness charming. You will have to be polite.” 

Dart wrinkles his nose. 

“And obedient,” Sirene adds, like a nail in his coffin. 

“Eugh.” Disgust fills Dart all the way to his core. He shudders. 

“You’re the one who wanted to play pretend,” Sirene says, and not for the first time, Dart feels as if he’s being lectured by one of his teachers when he was a wee pup. “This is how you do it.” 

Dart slumps further. Not even watching Cecil work is enough to brighten his mood. He’s still trying to put it into perspective, to think about all the intel he could bring back to the Ori, back to his father. 

And then he remembers Stormhold. 

Cecil is not lying. He may only be telling the truth as he knows it, but his grief and anger are very real. Justified even. The likelihood of Dart convincing Cecil to switch sides is slim to none. At least, not unless he can find out more about what happened. 

If the Templar are to blame, he might be able to sway Cecil. If it had been the Ori, well, Dart might have to do some thinking himself. 

He gets it. This is war. War has casualties. People die. Buildings get destroyed. Hatred grows and grows on both sides, and he’s sure the Ori felt like they might have had no other choice. Maybe that level of destruction is why they haven’t used that weapon again. 

The Templar have probably done equally heinous things. Other than the obvious, of course. The whole stealing their home out from under the Ori, destroying the land, usurping the Zivati, corrupting M’ori, et cetera. 

Ugh, this is complicated. Too complicated. 

Maybe he should have stayed Undersea after all. 

“Cecil would let you go,” Sirene says. Quiet. Tentative. “It would break my heart, but I’d sooner sever our bond then see you die for a cause you don’t believe in.” 

For the first time, with the prospect of Shandara less than a day away, it’s tempting. Dart could do it. He could run away, run home, find someone willing to mate him to appease his mother. Find some duty to contribute and become part of the community. Spit out half a dozen pups to really buy his way into Mama’s graces. 

It’s an option. 

He’d be miserable, yeah, but he’d be alive. The Drylanders could keep slaughtering themselves, and Dart could flit around the sea, in his domestic cage of responsibility and pups. He’d be alive. He wouldn’t be living, but he’d be alive. 

“Dart?” 

He looks up. Cecil’s giving him a confused look, standing at the doorway of the tent, one hand pulling the door back. 

One way or another, it requires Dart to be obedient, something he’s never managed in his entire life. 

Fuck it. 

Dart stands and brushes off the seat of his pants. “Sorry. My thoughts were a million miles away. Did you say something?” 

Cecil gives him a long look before he says, “We should go to sleep and get an early start.” 

Well, if there’s one thing Dart has never turned down, it’s more sleep, though he’s not keen on the early start part of it. Maybe he can convince Cecil to do otherwise. He hears blow jobs are a great convincer. 

“Sure,” Dart says. “Shandara awaits, right?” 

“Right.” Cecil squints at him again, but must decide it’s not worth the headache, because he lets it pass and vanishes into the tent. 

Dart exhales and looks up at the sky. Yeah, he’s going to do this. Worse comes to worst, he’s got an emergency escape plan, though it’s less than ideal. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sirene says, baseless as ever. 

Dart’s not up for the argument. Instead, he joins Cecil in the tent and goes to sleep. 

–end chapter five? six? I lost count–

They reach Shandara just before sunset, but they are a good quarter mile away when Dart first lays eyes on the city. A tall tower rises above everything in the exact center of the city, three colorful flags flapping wildly in the breeze like a statement of ownership. Control Central, Cecil calls it, his face turned grim and serious, more so than usual. 

It’s their final destination, but first, they must enter Shandara proper, which in itself is a feat. Massive stone walls completely encircle Shandara, and the ground has been cleared for at least fifty feet in front of the walls, with not so much as a blade of grass to serve as cover. The walls themselves must be frequently scrubbed clean because Dart doesn’t see a single vine or shroom or bit of moss. 

It’s a stark difference to what Dart has seen among the Ori. They live with nature, taking shelter in natural caves or building high in the treetops, or digging into the earth. They blend. Hide. Use the natural surroundings to their advantage.

The Templar have definitely taken the completely opposite approach. 

Control Central is the only structure visible above the walls, though Dart occasionally spies a few roofs or upright flagpoles. Smoke rises from chimneys, puffing gray into the fading sunlight. 

The road they’re on is wide enough for a whole army troop to march side by side. It leads directly to Shandara, or more accurately, directly to a massive gate. Two smaller towers bracket this gate, and when Cecil raises a hand, one of the guards in the tower to the left acknowledges him. 

“Raise the gate!” he shouts. There are two answering shouts before the sound of chains clanking echoes from within the tower. 

The gate slowly inches upward, making enough room below for Cecil to enter, before the gate reverses course. It lands with an unsettling clunk behind Dart. He twists to look over his shoulder, but he can’t see anything through the closely laid slats.  

“No quick escape now,” Sirene murmurs. 

“That’s for the reminder,” Dart mutters. He tightens his grip on Cecil, struck with an unease he’s never felt before. 

Snow’s talons click on a road that’s now paved stones fitted together, all painfully clean, like someone spends their day just sweeping them. The streets are narrower now, with stone buildings sharing walls and flagpoles on just about every one of them. A few advertise goods and services. Others have family names or something Cecil calls an address. 

Occasionally narrow alleys connect to other streets and more stone buildings. Some of the houses have planters in their paned windows, glass glittering in the tall everlights that illuminate the streets in the absence of sunlight. There are weird metal grates built into the ground at an angle, leading down to who knows what.

Dart leans over to peer into one as they pass, but all he can see is glistening dark. Cecil catches him before he tilts out of the saddle. 

“They’re for the sewers,” he explains as he pushes Dart back into place. 

Dart squints. “What’s a sewer?” 

“It’s part of the indoor plumbing system,” Cecil explains as Dart goes back to staring around him, slack-jawed. 

The city is strange, the streets are strange, and the people! Dart’s used to the small Ori encampments, or the small village where most of the Ori civilians live in relative peace, left alone by the Templar so long as they pay their dues and aren’t caught harboring “Ori terrorists”. 

Shandara is crowded. The streets would be wide if not for being crammed with temporary vendors, many of whom are in the process of closing up shop for the night. They talk to each other in a rapid clip, too quick for Dart to parse, though he catches a few lamentations about low sales and drowning worries in liquor.

 There actually are people pushing huge brooms across the cobblestones, occasionally pausing to pick up some large piece of trash and shove it in a bag hanging on their belt. Families hurry home, laden with packages or children, and nearly all of them stare with keen interest. 

Some call out to Cecil, clearly familiar with him or his borse or both. Either that or they’re trained to offer respect to any passing soldier, because some of their greetings are generic. “Thank you for your service,” or “Guard us well!” 

Several openly stare at Dart, probably because they’re not used to seeing a mer around here. Everyone knows there’s a large sea-mer population in the Kelp Forest, but Dart’s kind has been notoriously against joining the war on either side. Oh, occasionally a hot headed juvenile will venture to Dryland in search of adventure, but they usually come skulking back. 

Dart’s the only one who’s ever left the Undersea the way that he did – with Sirene on his back and a determination to fight. 

All roads apparently lead straight to the Control Central, because Cecil doesn’t have to make any turns or dodge any obstacles. Everyone moves out of Snow’s way as soon as they see him coming, like they’re afraid of him. It’s unsettling. 

Cecil doesn’t pull Snow to a stop until they’re in a large courtyard in front of Control Central, bracketed on either side by two wings of the tower, a couple floors shorter, but equally imposing. A dozen or so Templar infantry loiter in the courtyard, talking to each other in small clumps, though their conversation dies the moment Cecil comes into view. All of them stop and stare as Cecil dismounts and takes Snow’s reins, guiding her in the direction of a stable on the bottom floor of the left wing. 

Dart feels even more on display now that he’s the only one in the saddle. He starts grinning and waving, just to make a show of it, and the gossip gets louder. They stop openly staring at least. So much for Templar manners. 

A young blue Tsak emerges from the stables as they approach, large tusks jutting from her bottom jaw, but her face lights up. 

“Stormhold, sir,” she greets, already reaching for the reins. “You’re back. When the others returned without Snow, I worried, but I should’ve known better. She’s a tough one.” 

“Aye, she is,” Cecil shifts his touch to Snow’s mane. “She’s worked hard to carry two for the past few days. I think she’d appreciate a rubdown.” 

The Tsak beams. “Oh, absolutely.” 

“Thank you, Alpine.” Cecil circles to Snow’s side and looks up at Dart before offering a hand like he’s some fair maiden who can’t hop down from a noble steed. 

Fuck that. 

Dart arches an eyebrow and hops down on his own. The cobblestones are hard beneath his feet, jarring all the way up his legs, but he muffles the gasp with a big yawn and stretches his arms over his head.

-----

Day 19 - 22 Word Count: 4623 Running Word Count: 46,759