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#Affordable dessert spoons
bobochen-3344-blog · 26 days
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5PCS/Set Vintage Porcelain Ceramic Egg Cute Spoon
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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 6 months
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Nothing New
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pairing: bucky x anorexic!reader
a/n: this is a lil...delicate. don't read if you know it'll trigger you. it's meant to be a hurt comfort fic to help those of you who struggle with an ed.
˚♡⋆。˚ ⋆
"Alrighty! Here we are, doll," Bucky boomed as he slid onto the couch next to you with an open jar of peanut butter in hand with two spoons stuck inside. He pointed into it and explained, "So we've got the Snickers bar broken up and mixed in with the Jiffy's-"
"It's just Jif's, Buck!" you giggled.
He frowned down at you pretending to be upset at your interruption, only causing you to giggle even harder. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," he brought his face within inches of yours, frowning deeply, causing you to burst into laughter and swat him away. He pulled you into his side before finishing, "We have the Jiffy's," he shot you a warning look, daring you to correct him. "And we have the chocolaty-peanut butter goodness. Now the only question is: how fast are we gonna finish this? I'd say we give it half an episode of Friends, just to be safe. What do you think, doll?"
You stared down at the monstrosity in his hands, an acute sense of panic suddenly taking over your body. You couldn't do it. You had already eaten so much today. How could you make your beautiful, loving boyfriend understand that you couldn't eat anymore for the day? Sure, you were still slightly hungry, but you got used to that feeling long ago. You swallowed and flashed him an awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't notice your evident discomfort.
"Um, as appealing as that sounds," you started, "I just...I don't think I have the room." You patted your belly, hoping it was a convincing show. How could Bucky think you could even eat a bite of something so calorific? You were so bloated at the end of every day. You couldn't afford dessert ever again.
When Bucky gave you a skeptical look, you rushed to add, "Well, you know, I just ate a lot today, so I'm not really hungry..."
"Doll, we had salads before this so that we could make sure we had room for this," Bucky had let go of your waist and set the PB jar down on the coffee table, and was now turned to the side to face you. You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye lest your facade crumble, so you remained facing the television and drew your knees up to hug them to your chest.
"Yeah, but I had a lot to eat for lunch and stuff," you faltered, hoping that he would just drop it. You didn't want this night to end in a fight. It was so rare that you and Bucky got to spend time at home, just watching TV like a normal couple these days. You were always dragged away on separate missions, so your few days together were precious, and the last thing you wanted to do was squander them away because you couldn't bring yourself to eat a stupid jar of peanut butter.
Bucky seemed to get the hint but still looked concerned. Voice soft, he said, "That's fine, doll, we can just have it another day." You sensed the disappointment in his voice and instantly regretted hurting his feelings. But nothing could stop you from becoming skinnier, and if that meant saying no to Bucky's weird concoctions, then so be it.
It's just temporary, you reminded yourself. As soon as I shed a few pounds, I can go back to eating whatever I want. I've got it under control.
Bucky came back into the living room after putting the jar away, giving you a heavy smile. "I brought popcorn! Don't tell me you can't have that either?"
Popcorn was safe. Not a lot of calories, and you could eat a lot before you felt full. "Ugh, perfect!" You reached for the bowl with grabby hands.
He passed it to you with a warm smile then picked you up to your surprise before sitting down in the same spot with you in his lap. He put his arms around you in a bear hug that just felt safe before extending his legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table. Normally, you would've whacked his legs and admonished him about putting his smelly socks on the same surface as your food, but today you just relented. The ambience felt too cozy to be disturbed by silly little complaints. You snuggled into his chest, his scruff tickling the top of your forehead. You could get used to this position, you thought as your lashes fluttered. You felt Bucky lean forward to grab the remote and play the Friends episode. You reached down to stuff some popcorn into your mouth before leaning back into Bucky's chest.
You slowly drifted off while still in his lap and felt yourself being carried into your shared bedroom at some point. Although you were aware of it, you were too tired to wake up and remind Bucky that you didn't need to be carried to bed like a little kid. So, you just let him.
Bucky set you down on your side of the bed, covered you in your favorite fuzzy throw blanket, and smoothed the pillows under your head. He kissed your forehead and smiled down at you. You looked so peaceful like this.
When you were awake, you were constantly stressed about something or the other. Usually, it was something to do with work and the next mission you had to go on. That kind of stress was healthy because it allowed you to do your job properly and kept you alive on dangerous missions.
But recently, he had noticed how you stressed out about food. He didn't exactly understand it, but then again he wasn't sure it was supposed to make sense. When he had looked it up, he had gotten alarming results that indicated you might have an eating disorder. When he dug deeper, he realized that there were many different types of eating disorders, and that it wasn't always clear-cut with definable signs and symptoms. While he clearly had no experience in the vicinity and could by no means diagnose you, he had an inkling that something was up. You definitely didn't interact with food normally, and it worried him.
He had never thought about food for longer than the amount of time it took to prepare and consume it. He didn't understand why you were so worried about it. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman alive, and you didn't need to change your body. You could eat an elephant and he would still think of you as gorgeous. Bodies were just that, they didn't determine who you were as a person.
As he climbed into bed and pulled your sleeping frame into his chest, he made a silent vow to himself to tell you how beautiful you looked and to make sure you always ate. The last thing he needed was for his beautiful doll to harm herself because she didn't feel pretty.
˚♡⋆。˚ ⋆
The next morning, Bucky woke up in an empty bed. Aw, man, you already left, he chided himself for not feeling you slipping out of his arms earlier. You had probably gone on a run or to the training room. You and Bucky liked to train together when you could and make a date out of it. But lately, you always seemed to push him away to train alone. He wondered why that was...
Groaning softly, he climbed out of bed and lumbered over to your walk-in closet to throw on a black T-shirt and shorts. After quickly brushing his teeth (he knew you hated it when he waited until after he ate breakfast), Bucky made his way down to the gym.
Sure enough, he found you there on the treadmill in your favorite running outfit, sweat glistening on your toned muscles. Your legs pounded on the treadmill and your breathing was erratic as you performed your sprints.
He didn't want to give you a jump-scare since that would very likely spike your heart rate which had to be quite high already, so he opted to slowly walk up behind you, calling out, "Good morning, doll!"
You didn't seem to hear him over your thundering footsteps and the heavy metal that was no doubt blaring through your headphones. He decided to risk it and walk into your peripheral vision. The treadmill you were on faced a window, not a mirror, which didn't exactly help his situation. He waved and offered you a wide smile, "Hey doll!"
"Hey...Bucky...," you panted hard, trying to control your breathing in front of him. You couldn't stop yet, you had only run 7 miles so far. You had only been running for 45 minutes, what was a few more? Your goal was to hit 10 miles before you moved on to weight-training.
A bead of sweat rolled down your neck which didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. He found it quite attractive that you liked to work and train hard. However, he did worry in light of new revelations. His research into eating disorders had revealed that along with restriction of food, people often over-trained and physically over-exerted themselves in hopes of changing the way they looked.
"Looking good, doll! Gosh, I just woke up, and you've already run 7 miles! That's my girl," he tried to high-five you, but you missed. The momentum sent your feet flying backwards, and you would've faceplanted on the edge of the treadmill if Bucky hadn't acted quickly and grabbed your waist, pulling you safely off the treadmill.
"I'm so sorry, doll! Are you okay?" he set you down and brought both hands up to your face. His eyes were wide with concern as they raked over your features to discern whether you were in pain.
"I'm fine," you tried pushing him away, but your efforts were weaker than you'd hoped. "I need to keep going." But at this point, you could barely stand seeing as you were clinging onto Bucky's forearms for support.
"I...I gotta finish," you mumbled, trying to amble over to the treadmill that was still running, tripping over your feet in the process. You didn't know how you would start up again. The only thing that had kept you going before was your momentum. Now that it was gone, you felt as if you could never walk again. Your hamstrings were on fire, and you couldn't even feel your calves.
Dark spots clouded your vision, and you felt your body going slack in Bucky's arms. Your limbs felt leaden with exhaustion, and all you wanted was to fall asleep. That last thing you remembered was the warmth of Bucky's chest, his heartbeat erratic against your cheek as he swept your limp form into his arms. "Doll! Doll, stay with me! Stay with me, honey, I'm right here, and you're gonna be okay!"
˚♡⋆。˚ ⋆
You woke up in the cold, hostile hospital room. Your eyes darted around the room before fixing on Bucky's massive frame at your bedside. He stirred, no doubt thanks to your heart monitor picking up speed.
He had placed his flesh hand gently on top of yours. His head was bowed, resting on his arm. That couldn't be too comfortable.
He slowly raised his head, blinking his blue eyes open. You couldn't help staring at him. Even in his groggy state, he was the most beautiful person alive.
"Do you know why you feel that way?"
You swallowed and steeled your mind, focusing your eyes on Bucky's cool metal hand wrapped in both of yours. You willed yourself not to cry as you responded, "I...I don't know, I can't explain it super well, but um...I-there's like this voice in my head telling me that I can never have too much. I can never...eat too much because then I'll...I don't know, it's just like a rule that my mind made up for me and I don't know why I'm so weird and why I just can't be normal and eat like a normal person and not obsess over it.... It's never enough." You shook your head, finally dissolved into the tears you had been holding in for months now.
Bucky must have expected you to start crying because he skipped the tissues and went straight to pulling you into his arms, right off the hospital bed and into his lap like you were a child. You felt like one in that moment anyway, quivering in his arms and sobbing a year's worth of tears into the sleeve of his leather jacket.
"Food is fuel, baby girl," he said softly, his puppy dog eyes roaming over your face as he tried to convey to you the knowledge that you were perfect to him. He adored everything about you, and it saddened him to no end that you hated your body. "I love you. I can't even begin to understand how hard this must be for you, and I'm not going to pretend I will anytime soon. But you can be damn sure that I'll try and be here for you every single day because it's the least I can do."
Your eyes welled again, and you tackled him in a hug again. He gladly pulled you in tighter, holding you so tenderly that the gentleness and sheer love in his embrace alone made you want to bawl your eyes out.
He spoke softly, his words muffled into your shoulder, "Honey, I will be here with you on every step of your recovery. Don't you ever think you'll be alone in this, not even for a minute. I can't lose you. It'll kill me. So please tell me what I can do. Even if you just wanna talk, we can do whatever. But I'm always here for you."
"Thank you," you mumbled, swallowing back thick tears.
"Please talk to me, okay?" he pulled back slightly, bringing his flesh hand up to tuck some fallen strands of hair behind your ear. You nodded, and your eyes darted down to his lips. He seemed to understand your need to be near him, so he kissed you, delicately at first, pulling back to lock his eyes on yours and check if it was okay. In response, you pulled him by the collar, back onto your lips where he belonged. You moaned against him, breathless in your desire, but unwilling to let him go. Being in a life or death situation did that to you.
˚♡⋆。˚ ⋆
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jo-harrington · 9 months
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Are you still taking requests for creatures? I love Greek mythology. Oneiroi?
Oh hey anon; sorry it's taken a little while for me to get to your request. This sounded familiar to me and I couldn't place it. Obviously I looked it up, and it was incredibly interesting...but then I realized! (Sorry I'm gonna go off on a tangent for a second.) Persephone calls Hades "Oneiroi" when he appears in her dream in Rachel Alexander's Receiver of Many. Which is a fantastic series and 10/10 recommend.
So I'm gonna take a little inspiration from that book, as well as one of my favorite little animated shorts Somewhere in Dreamland. Hope you enjoy.
Themes/TW: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort
Find other Hymns of Heaven here.
And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.
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September 1984
Eddie was sick.
He didn't get sick often and it was a fact that he often touted about when his friends came down with a cold or the flu.
One time in the third or fourth grade, there was a horrible outbreak of the chicken pox and Eddie had been the only kid in class that didn't succumb to the terrible itching and endure countless oatmeal baths.
It was a bit of a blessing; his mom couldn't have afforded a day off work to take care of him or the penicillin shot at Doc Thomas' office. And once she was gone...well...Wayne and Rick did their best to take care of a healthy Eddie...who knows how much of a burden they would have faced with a phlegmy, puking one.
Now though, it hit him hard. Like 20 years of mediocre luck had run out.
It started with a dry and sore throat; he just wrote it off as having pushed his voice little too hard at the Hideout the night prior. A new setlist, a new song...pretty much an entirely new band. He had been excited.
Then his eyes started to feel dry and crusty; his vision just on the annoying side of strained and blurry. For the first time in his public school education, he wasn't lying when a teacher called on him and he said he was having trouble seeing the board.
By the time he got home, his head was pounding, and he used the last of his willpower to throw a can of chicken noodle soup in the microwave and call you to cancel your date for that night.
He curled himself into a ball on the couch and promptly passed out--didn't even touch his soup--only to wake up to yours and Wayne's voices in his ear and a hand on his forehead.
"...doesn't feel warm but he never gets sick. Maybe I ought to stay?"
Well...he assumed it was Wayne. It didn't really sound like Wayne. Maybe he was sick too.
"As much as he would enjoy the attention, he doesn't need both of us to stay with him. I've got something that'll fix him right up; you go."
"If you're sure?"
Next thing he knew, the front door slammed shut and his eyes cracked open to see a steaming bowl of something in his face.
"Alright you plague-ridden fiend," you teased. "Sit up, I'm not gonna spoon feed you."
"But what if I asked real nice," he groaned and hoisted himself upright.
He took the bowl and inhaled the warm steam coming from within. He'd had this recipe before; something your grandma made you if you were sick or just feeling down as a kid. You made it for him the day after Mickey left for college.
It had been like a healing light shined directly onto his soul.
Craving that feeling again, he practically shoveled the food into his mouth as you moved around the trailer to grab pillows and blankets and other supplies.
"Obviously I was worried when you cancelled," you explained as you roamed about. "I stopped at Bradleys so I could make dinner--there's ice cream too if you're feeling up to it--oh and Family Video...I figured some horror movies but then they had Casper and Friends and I couldn't say no to that. So I got a ton of cartoons. Popeye, Underdog...No Rocky and Bullwinkle. I promise."
"Fuck that squirrel," Eddie groused with his mouth full.
Before long, dinner and dessert had been consumed--the mix of warm and cold did wonders for his sore throat--and he was cradled in your arms on the couch as the otherwise-dark living room glowed from the old Technicolor cartoons on the tv. His arms were around your midsection as he rested his cheek right over your heart; the steady beat of it soothed him.
It was nice. You had your dates, your days out, your time with the guys...but this was different. It was almost as healing as dinner had been.
Comments were shared periodically between the two of you, and when there was a short that didn't particularly interest him, he would close his eyes to rest them.
He enjoyed the feeling of your hand carding through his hair.
Sure enough his headache started to fade.
Before long, a soft little lullaby started playing on screen and you hummed along to it. You were no singer--he teased you about it often; you couldn't carry a tune if your life depended on it--but you must have been familiar with this one if you could match every note instinctually.
Eddie opened his eyes and watched the two cartoon children on screen sing each other to sleep.
"I'll see you somewhere in dreamland," the little boy on screen crooned. "Somewhere in dreamland tonight."
"Do you think you meet the people you've lost...in your dreams?" Eddie asked suddenly. He didn't know where the question came from...or really why he asked it. It just bubbled out of him instinctually and...he felt like sobbing.
"I think so," you answered softly. "How else could they find you? But in your dreams?"
"Over a bridge made of moonbeams. We'll find the clouds are silver lined." The boy's sweet face turned serene.
"Did you know..." you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "That in greek mythology...the oneiroi...they control dreams and they live beyond an ivory and silver bridge on Olympus."
"Yeah?"
"Each little star is a castle," the little girl sang. "Shining a welcome so bright."
"Yeah. So I imagine that...that if you lose someone...a bridge like that would be easier for them to find...than the door to your house. Or they would just have to ask the oneiroi would help them."
Tears started leaking from his eyes and he turned his face into the softness of your chest to hide it. You felt him anyway.
"Hey what's this?"
"Sorry my eyes just hurt," he muttered.
You pulled him close to you and muttered sweet, reassuring words.
"Hey! It'll be ok," you whispered into the crown of his head. "It's ok, I'm here. I'm here so you've gotta feel better ok?"
"Don't go."
"I won't. I'm still here; don't cry anymore. Please."
"Please don't go."
The children still sang on the television.
"Dreams will come true for me and you. Somewhere in dreamland tonight."
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April 1985
Eddie opened his bleary, leaking eyes.
His vision was blurred but he still could tell he was alone on the couch. The tv was off. A now-cold can of chicken noodle soup left half-eaten on the coffee table.
He was tired, he was angry, he was broken.
"I'm here Eddie, I'm here."
Your voice echoed in his head.
He was alone.
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happyinjection · 1 year
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♠️♥️High Card Short Story 6 “An Afternoon with Finn and Chris” (1/3)♦️♣️
What do car dealers do on their lunch break? Finn, for one, took Chris out to the backyard of the store...
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Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1540170704884072448
Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno
Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3
Lunch break. I stuffed a sandwich into my mouth and dragged Chris out through the backdoor by his arm. 
“Finn~ I was planning to eat dessert after my lunch, you know~”
“You’ve promised to do it today, remember? Come on, let’s go.”
The backyard was bathed in soft sunlight, and purple flowers were blooming from the plants tended by Bernard-ojiichan and Vijay.
“What a pushy kid. Fine, just give a moment.”
Chris, who appeared reluctant, didn’t move from his spot as he shoved a spoonful of pudding from the jar into his mouth.
“Hurry up. We don’t have much time.”
“Okay, okay. I got it.”
Previously, I had gotten Chris to promise that he would teach me martial arts. Long story short, we had been busy with our job as car dealers, and thus our plan had been postponed several times, but today both of us could finally make it.
“I’m not a fan of getting all sweaty with men, though.”
“Stop saying disgusting stuff so often. Come on, hurry up and teach me already!”
“I don’t think it’s anything worth teaching.”
I took off my suit jacket, pulled my necktie off, then draped them over a garden bench. I also took off my watch and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt.
“I mean, Finn, you’re already pretty good at fighting. Surely you have no need for extra training?”
“No problem, just teach me what you know!”
Before I joined High Card, I used to do boxing casually with my friends. However, after going on several missions with Chris, I learned that people who have been through intense training are on an entirely different level compared to those who don’t.
According to what he told me, it seemed that Chris had been trained in martial arts by his father when he was young. His basic skills laid in muay thai and MMA—mixed martial arts. In short, he could do anything in terms of full body combat.
“Very well, for the sake of my cute junior, I guess I can afford to take off a layer or two. One thrust at a time, maybe something more would come out of this, yeah?[*]”
I had no idea what he meant by that, but Chris simply chuckled at me.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
“’Kay.”
I took a shoulder-width stance by putting my left foot forward, then held up both of my fists to the height of my cheeks.
“My style is kind of like boxing. Here it comes, shadow.”
Shadow is a term for when one attacks or dodges while imagining their opponent in their head.
One-two, hook, uppercut, body-ducking, and swayback, I alternated between hitting and dodging.
The cobblestones on the ground rubbed against my leather soles, producing a crisp sound.
“So, how was it? What should I change to improve?”
I panted heavily through my nose.
“Isn’t that already good enough the way it is?”
“What the hell, there’s no way that’s true! Tell me your actual thoughts!”
“No, no, I’m serious. You did good enough. To be fair, on our missions, we don’t usually get into situations where we must go wild in a fistfight, anyway.”
“It did happen last time, though.”
“Finn has sharp eyesight, so you’ll be just fine. Besides, this place is not ideal for training to begin with. MMA especially requires us to work as a pair and involves a lot of getting thrown down. If you’ll follow me to my bed, perhaps then I would reconsider.”
Ignoring his joke, I turned on my heels.
“Alright then! I’m just gonna ask Wendy to teach me.”
In an instant Chris was grabbing on my arm.
“Stop right there! Wendy doesn’t know how to take it easy when giving a lesson, she will definitely break you!”
“So hurry up and teach me instead.”
“Okay, okay. So eager to get back together after breaking up with me, huh.”
Chris took off his suit jacket and threw it over the garden bench. Following that he pulled his necktie off and undid his first button. He took off his dark green watch, then finally rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Due to his tall height, he might seem slender at a glance, but his arms were strong with visible blue veins running all the way down to his wrists.
“Here we go, let’s get into position one more time.”
As I was getting ready, Chris walked around behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, rubbing on them.
“Hmm, nice frame.”
“Don’t get too handsy with me.”
“No, I’m just stating the truth? Not only you have good eyesight, but you also have a strong body, and you’re surprisingly flexible. Alright, go ahead and start with another one-two.”
I gave him a one-two.
“There’s an opening on your side. Also, your left side isn’t extended wide enough. Since Finn is ambidextrous, if closely observed, your balance when throwing a hit is better than most people.”
While saying that, Chris kept his hands on my hip bones the entire time. It bugged me, but I held on.
“Leave yourself to me, and relax.”
“No need to say unnecessary stuff.”
“Now, pay attention on how you rotate your left hip.”
“Like this?”
“Pull your shoulders in a bit more. Don’t tuck your chin.”
“So, like this?”
“Don’t let your body get carried away. Plant your feet firmly on the ground.”
“Then how about this—!”
Suddenly, whoosh, a faint sound of my fist cutting through the air could be heard.
“Woah! That sound just now, did you catch that?!?! That’s one hell of a punch!”
“Well, you pretty much got it. However, sports and an actual combat are two different things. If you stick to your own rules you will lose, such is the theory of fighting. Thankfully Finn is already good at making things up on the spot, so why not trust your own eyes and intuition?”
“If you say so..... but first, get your hands off my waist.”
With a grin tugging on his lips, Chris held up both of his hands comically.
♠️♥️♦️♣️
TL notes: Chris “sexual innuendo” Redgrave, everyone. [*] This is not exactly what he says but you get the idea. Also, this is the best pun I can come up with at the moment. Once again I’m not posting this one in the correct order but I feel like this must be done before episode 9! As usual, let’s enjoy High Card together~
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sweetwolfcupcake · 2 years
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Steel Blue: The Chasm
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This is the second novelette of the Shades of Obsession Universe. The sequence of each member's 'love story' is yet to be put out, but Yoongi's story begins before Jin and Taehyung's.
Shades of Obsession Universe
Steel Blue Masterlist
****
Yandere Yoongi x Original Character
The knife made a low, soft thud each time it came in contact with the cutting board. The lid of the pot fogged as steam collected on its surface. Giving it a short but vigilant glance, Holly resumed her focus on chopping the vegetables. As soon as she removed the lid, a cloud of steam rushed up.
“Perfect.”
She hummed to herself as she put the vegetables into the stew. It was her boyfriend’s comfort food. And perhaps it was not an expected dish to be served for date night but tomorrow was his birthday and she wanted the date night to make it as comforting and beautiful as possible— just her and him.
She had also prepared some appetizers to his liking. All that was left was to prepare a warm and relaxing bath for him. She had filled the bathroom cabinets with his favourite bath bombs and scented candles. All the things that would loosen the stressful knots in him.
Putting the stew away, she wiped her hands and took off her apron before glancing at the clock and then at the door. It was about time, he should be home any moment. He promised to be home by—
The doorbell rang twice.
Holly rushed to open it. And as anticipated, she was greeted by her boyfriend. He gave her a tired smile.
“I kept my promise. Happy?”
Yoongi’s voice was a low baritone as he walked in, shoulders slumped and lips chapped. Despite the onset of the spring season, the evenings were frosty still and the redness of his nose showed that.
“Why don’t you freshen up first I have prepared a hot bath and—”
“Thank you.”  
With that, Yoongi walked past her, straight into the bedroom. Holly stood and watched as he discarded his jacket carelessly on the bed and walked into the bathroom.
Salad.
Yes, she had not prepared the salad yet.
With that, she rushed back into the kitchen and proceeded to cut the ingredients and make a dressing for the salad before Yoongi would come back.
Holly put all her focus on the salad, and by the time she was done- satisfied with the product, she turned around, only to find Yoongi sitting at the dining table.
“Oh, you are done?” how come she never heard him walking in and sitting?
“Yes. I…I took a quick shower actually, I was hungry. I called you twice but I think you were busy with the salad.” his eyes dropped to the bowl in her grasp.
“Y-yes, yes, I think I was too engrossed with it.”
“I like the aroma.”
“It is your favourite stew.” she walked to the table and placed the salad on it. “But first, appetizers.”
“You went all three-course?”
“Four actually, I even have dessert.”
A faint smile graced his lips. “Oh, I see. Sit down, please.”
Holly sat as Yoongi prepared the plates- chopsticks for him, fork and spoon.
“That’s not needed, I know how to use chopsticks by now.”
“Yes but, I thought you would be more comfortable with these.”
“I’m comfortable with chopsticks now, don’t worry.”
And she was. Yoongi observed how well she had learnt to use them over the years. And not only chopsticks, but she also perfected his favourite dish, she had mastered so many Korean recipes.
He could not even recall when was the first time they had cooked together a delicacy of her own country. When was the last time he had cooked for her? He knew she loved his cooking.
He licked his lips and focused on plating the food. He could at least try. They had to try. The food was, needless to say, good. But all were his favourite items.
“It’s delicious.”
She smiled at his appreciation before going back to eating. The soft clinking noise was the only sound prevalent in the room until she spoke up again.
“We have a date tomorrow, you remember, right?”
Yoongi did not look up from his plate. He focused on eating instead.
“Yoongi?”
He heard her, of course, he heard her but he could not afford another day’s work hours cut short. Their date was important to him, but not more than the songs he and his team members were so diligently working on.
“I’m sorry I cannot make it tomorrow. Namjoon is working on some songs and me and Hobi are going to evaluate—”
“Hoseok can do that.”
“My inputs are just as important, you know that Holly.” he sighed, too tired for another argument.
“But Mr Kang told us that we need to spend more time with each other, at least two dates a week is required.”
“We can speak to him this weekend about my schedule then. No big deal, we will have to find an alternative.”
“It’s for the initial months. It won’t be a regular thing. You can go back to your schedule after—”
“After? After what? After a therapist fixes our relationship?”
“We did not know what else to do?”
“This was your idea.” Yoongi hissed lowly.
“So what did you expect me? Sit and watch us fall apart?” Holly held an exasperated expression as her grip on her chopstick tightened.
Yoongi stared back at her, equally frustrated.
“We could talk this out. You just booked an appointment and dragged me there.” he deadpanned.
“Really? You are either tired, frustrated, or absent- every time we tried to talk it escalated into an argument, why can’t you see we needed this!”
He noticed how beautifully she had learnt his language. When was the last time she spoke to him in her mother tongue?
“When was the last time you cooked something from your country?”
“W-what?” her eyes held confusion “How is this even relevant?”
“It is. It is very much relevant. You have–I mean don’t you miss it?”
“I miss us, Yoongi, and that is why I am trying everything in my power to save this relationship, but I cannot do this alone. I need you.”
Holly could feel the dull sting behind her eyes, all too familiar and all too quick.
This was supposed to be their night, it was supposed to end peacefully, and it was supposed to remind them how important they were to each other.
“I am here, Holly, I try to be here as much as I  can but are you?”
“What do you mean?”
Yoongi opened his mouth to spit out the words that hung at the tip of his tongue but could not. It did not feel right, but that was all he could think of at the moment. Yet, her glassy eyes prevented him from screaming his heart out. He gulped and instead focused on his food.
He was hungry.
Yes, he was hungry. And tired.
“Yoongi? Yoongi, look at me. Why do you always stop like that? Tell me?”
“What?” he muttered as he looked up.
“Tell me what is wrong?”
He paused with a hard star.
“You want to know what is wrong, Holly?” he gritted out.
“This…This perfection- the perfect girlfriend who has mastered each of her boyfriend’s favourite dishes, remembers all important days…Like…Like…”
“Like what?” she was bewildered. 
Was not he happy that she understood and knew him?
“I don’t know Holly…You have strived to be the ‘perfect girlfriend’... So perfect that I do not recognise you anymore!”
Holly blinked back her tears. She could not fathom his words, if anything, they confused her. What was he complaining about?
“I–I don’t understand. What do you mean? I thought you are happy.”
“Exactly! You are trying to make me happy…And you are not– you are not you anymore Holly…”
Yoongi felt tears welling up.
A whole year’s frustration piling up, ready to burst out from the tightly-closed glass jar.
“You are not the Holly I fell in love with. The one who often made simple errors in the kitchen, the one who loved desserts from her country and made me try them, the one who was curious about me, one who was comfortable in her own imperfections, the one who–I don’t know…I feel like I have never given so much effort in this relationship, and it seems forced to me, a responsibility…We are not the same people who met in that old-style ramen stall anymore!”
He knew his words were haphazard, they did not come out as he wanted, but at least he let it out. He never realised that he had raised his voice, but he felt the strain afterwards as he leaned against his chair- exhausted, frustrated, lost.
“I thought…I should learn.” she whispered out.
“Unlearn then…Please. You are a completely different person…You don’t need to be perfect, I need you here. You are assimilating, Holly, and I feel like I’m losing you. I am not perfect either, please. We can’t be this…This perfect couple, that’s not us”
“I thought–I mean we are getting married, soon, I should learn to live with you.”
Yoongi licked his lips and looked away. Growing frustrated with each passing moment. He felt utterly helpless, and it was his own doing. He just…
He shook his head and stood up. “I’m sorry, I never knew…You looked so happy that day.”
“What do you mean?”
She felt a strange chill infesting her.
“Yoongi?”
Yoongi gulped and ran his fingers through his hair. He messed up. And the guilt would not spare him a moment’s peace.
“I’m sorry…I can’t anymore. I lied to you.”
 He could watch the confusion and he knew what would follow if he continued. He continued regardless, he had to let it all out.
“I was-I am not ready. I did not want to get engaged but you–I felt the need to reassure you and I thought that I would get used to it eventually. I could not…You just…You act like a perfect wife already as if-as if we are in a  fucking perfect marriage- we are not Holly! People are not perfect- neither should they be. I am not. And I...I cannot take this pressure anymore.”
He watched, with welled-up eyes as tears freely flowed from her eyes. The realisation where it all went downhill dawned on her, it was like Yoongi could see the process itself. He looked away.
She had been weaving a fairytale dream- and it was smothering him.
“So…So you lied to me? Y-you proposed to me, Yoongi…Why put a ring on my finger then?” she rose from her chair as well.
“I’m sorry, I’m so…Sorry. You needed assurance, I loved you, I love you still, but I do not feel like I am with the girl I fell I fell in love with. Not anymore.”
He felt the warmth of his first tear on his heated cheek and looked away. 
Seeing no other reason to stay, he walked back into the bedroom, took his previously discarded jacket from the bed and walked out of the apartment. He did not have the courage to turn back and watch the damage he had done. 
There was no turning back.
Holly stood there, flinching at the sound of the door shutting. She realised that her cheeks were damp. Feeling her legs grow heavier with each passing moment, she sat back on the chair. And she kept sitting there until the hour hand struck midnight.
With no sign of Yoongi returning, she stood up, opened the fridge and took out the cake she had baked for his birthday. She gave it a long, yearning stare, before dumping it into the dustbin.
—-----
Mr Kang’s office was pristine, and for the first time, she realised how unnatural and unhomely the perfection looked.
“Should we wait for Mr Min? He knows that we have an appointment, I think.”
“He is not coming.” Holly replied simply.
She was back at Mr Kang’s office a day after Yoongi’s birthday- he did not return home since he left.
“How was the date, Ms Wilson?”
“There was no date.” it was a defeated whisper, 
“Any particular reason?”
Holly remained silent, she could not bring herself to repeat the stabbing words.
“It’s okay if you do not want to tell me, how about we—”
“I’m sorry, can we cut this session short?”
Mr Kang observed her for a moment, but before he could respond, the door opened with a knock, revealing Yoongi.
“I’m sorry. I’m late.”
Yoongi gave him a nod and bow before his gaze found Holly, who did not look up.
"The session is not over, I believe?" he eyed Mr Kang expectantly.
“Of course not, Mr Min. Please sit down.”
Yoongi took a seat on the other end of the couch, the distance between them had not reduced since their first session, which was two weeks ago. But this time, Yoongi noticed.
“I heard that the date night could not happen. Any special reason?”
Yoongi stiffened and nodded.
“I did not show up.”
Mr Kang nodded before writing something on his notepad. 
“We almost had a dinner date at home, the night before my birthday.” Yoongi continued with initial hesitance.
Mr Kang gave him an encouraging nod “And how did it go?”
Yoongi looked at Holly, who refused to look back at him.
He turned to Mr Kang and responded “I messed up. I was being honest- but I failed to communicate.”
“Would you explain?”
“I told her that I proposed to her because I felt pressured to do so…Which is true, but not completely. I did not feel pressured because I do not love Holly. I love her- I loved her before I proposed, I loved her while I proposed, and I love her still. I just never saw marriage as a validation of love. Perhaps I have been too afraid of this…Permanent thing. Because I know that I can never give her the tranquil married life that she had always wanted. And she adapted to my culture, my language, and my way of life so easily, so beautifully, it only reminded me how I was going to disappoint her in future. She wants marriage, I don’t. Not because I don’t love her, no, because I know that I cannot be the husband she deserves.” 
He turned to Holly again, who sat still, gazing at the floor.
“You had become so busy in becoming the ‘perfect wife material’, trying to appease me, you lost yourself, Holly. And I never wanted this. And each time look at you, I realise how much less effort I have been putting in and it makes me feel pressurized. Because I am not the husband you want…This was not us, Holly. This was not the love we built together.”
Holly Wilson still refused to look up and meet his gaze, refused to break the silence from her side that was eating him alive.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Holly, say something…I just wanted us to be back the way we were. You were you…And I-I am still me but, not you.”
“If you still loved me, if you still trusted me, you would not have lied to me. You would have told me what you felt.”
She finally broke the silence, but her voice did not rise beyond a whisper.
Min Yoongi had never been the expressive kind, and when he said that he loved her, he meant it with all of his heart. He had gone straight to Namjoon’s apartment after the argument and when he spoke with the younger, he had gained a sort of clarity of his thought, his doubts and objections. Namjoon helped him see what truly was at risk and what truly had gone wrong.
And things had started going downhill ever since the day he decided to propose to her instead of talking it out with her.
“You have to believe me this time.” 
Holly only scoffed. 
The silence stretched on for another moment before Mr Kang decided to break it.
“It is a good sign that you are gaining clarity Mr Min, and communicating better. This is one step forward. However, seeing the situation, why don’t we divert our approach for today? Let’s do something lighter. Okay? Ms Wilson?”
Holly finally looked up, straightened her shoulders and nodded with a quiet ‘sure’.
“So, tell me, Ms Wilson, what are the things you love about Mr Min that even he fails to notice, or appreciate? Something that very few people notice?”
Holly sighed and began after a short silence.
“I love it when he pretends that he does not need attention but just puts himself on my way to gain it. I love the way he loses himself when he plays the piano, with the little movements of his shoulders that he does involuntarily as if he is dancing to the music in his mind. I love it when…When he makes a certain sound while contemplating a task at hand. I love the way he treats his band members as his family and I adore the fact that he keeps in mind my favourite tea brand, the type, and the cookies I like to have with it. I love it when he wakes up before sunrise and takes pictures of the rising sun, only to go back to bed again. And I love it how he takes the side of the bed facing the door so that he could keep me safe.”
She paused and bit her lips, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape her eyes.
“And I love it when his hand reaches out for mine unconsciously, even in sleep. I love his low humming while shaves in the bathroom. I love his old pinewood perfume, I love how his cheeks swell when he purses his lips…And I love it when he gets drunk- the way his face flushes and he loosens up a little. I love the way his cold hands warm up with mine, like the sun rising on a winter morning. And I love it when he cooks for me- even if it’s a simple, untoasted sandwich, I love it because he made it.”
By the time she was done, a single tear had already traced her cheek- every moment she spent with him flashed in front of her as if it were her last moments on earth and all her life had been concentrated in those, tiny, but beautiful moments- moments she would never forget.
“And Mr Min?”
Yoongi sighed inaudibly and bit the insides of his lips before he began-
“I love it when she closes her eyes to the morning sunrays as if absorbing them, I have secretly taken so many pictures of her, with the little smile playing on her lips I adore so much. I love it when she makes tiny mistakes while making a dish from my culture- it’s cute actually. I love it when she faces me in her sleep and snuggles close to me as if I am her safe person. I love the warmth her hands provide when they touch mine, and I love the feeling of our fingers intertwining together like a vine, it’s a natural instinct to go for her hand, to hold her hand. I love it when she sings in the shower, it’s quite off the tune actually- funny to the ears of a musician but I love it anyway. I love all the imperfections she possesses and has been trying so desperately to get rid of. But I want her to know, that if she does, she would be giving away a part of her that I have always adored. I love it when she wakes up often due to my movements when I wake up to take pictures of the rising sun, but then pretends to be asleep. But I notice her irregular breathing and her fluttering eyelids.”
 Yoongi chuckled at the end, all the moments flooding into his mind like an old film. He turned to her, only to find her looking at him.
Finally!
He mentally sighed in relief as his eyes met hers.
“Well done, Mr Min and Ms Wilson. The session ends here.” Mr Kang declared.
Holly stood up and walked out as soon as he did without another word. 
“Mr Min, could I have a word with you please?”
Mr Kang’s words paused Yoongi’s movements and he sat back down with a nod.
“As much as I can interpret, the day before yesterday, you told her how you feel regarding the engagement, am I right?” 
Yoongi nodded “Yes, I did. I told her that I only proposed to her so that she would be reassured of my love for her. But for me, a ring cannot decide out love’s depth. She had always dreamt of that fairytale-like married life- filled with cosy comfort and contentment. And I cannot give her that.”
“So, where do you think the problem lies? The differences in opinion regarding married life? Or have you subconsciously pushed her away, thinking that you do not deserve her?”
Yoongi was a little taken aback by the way Mr Kang detected the deepest roots of the issue- but then again, he was a renowned couple therapist. He nodded slowly and admitted.
“I can never give her what she deserves, my life would not let me- not until I retire. But even then, music would always be my first love, her actions, her efforts make me feel so…makes me realise that I am not doing enough, I have never done enough.”
“Maybe, it is not the ‘fairy-tale marriage’ Ms Wilson wants, Mr Min- maybe it's simply marriage is what she wants- marriage with you.”
Yoongi frowned at the conclusion, but Mr Kang continued 
“Had she really wanted such a perfect married life, she would have expected and urged you to fit into the ‘perfect husband material’ frame as well, but she did not, did she? Yes, she did bring in some significant changes in her own habits which, reasonably made you uncomfortable, or, miss the person she once was. But maybe, you can try looking through a different prospect? Maybe she had intended to better herself. Maybe she has been feeling unworthy of you, or insecure too?”
“What do you mean, Mr Kang?”
“What I mean is that all you both need to do is to communicate clearly, and try not to hurt each others’ feelings while doing so. I believe Ms Wilson had not hurt your feelings- not at least the way you did hers.”
Yoongi could not help but nod. He had messed up- no, he fucked up. He really fucked up this time.
“Mr Min, I want you to answer me honestly, how do you see your future?”
“In future…Well, me making more music, BTS all over the billboards around the world- not just our country,- all over the world. Me and Holly…” he paused, contemplating, before continuing- “We will get a kitten, or two. We will buy a countryside farmhouse and spend vacations there. Maybe along the way, we…we can have a child of our own.”
Mr Kang scribbled something on his notepad.
 “Hm, so you see the future with Ms Wilson?”
“Of course I do.”
“And what if  she is not there in the picture?”
Yoongi’s previously fidgeting fingers paused and knit together tightly
 “I would rather not think so.” he deadpanned.
“So you cannot afford to lose her?”
Yoongi did not respond to the question, instead, held the therapist’s gaze with calm confidence.
“Then fight for this, for her as she has for you, Mr Min. Unknowingly, you have given her the impression that she is not important enough to you, you have unconsciously made her insecure and maybe that’s why she felt this strong need to master everything in your life and adapt so quickly.”
Yoongi felt the familiar sting behind his eyes as he opened his eyes to Hooly’s perception. 
“Give her back the confidence, Mr Min, show her how important she is to you. Sometimes, it is important to show and verbally express.”
And all Yoongi could manage was a weak nod before he made his way out of the room.
****
So, finally, the first chapter of 'Steel Blue' is here, there is more angst to come. I intended to be honest regarding the problem the couple faces and not take sides and I hope I did justice to this, if not, forgive me, I am only learning.
@oppa-agust-d @mintsugarmy @amoc94 @ratherbefangirling @yoongi-wife
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bluethude · 2 years
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hi!! may i request ei and ningguang with a traveler s/o? not as lumine or aether but another traveler! have a nice day!
Hello there !
Omg, thanks for asking, you're the first one and I'm so happy you did, of course you may, asks are open after all ! I hope you'll enjoy what I wrote ! And have a nice day you too !
Requested : Yes !
Character : Ei/Raiden Shogun and Ningguang (separately)
Summary : Ei and Ningguang with a traveler!S/O (not Aether and not Lumine, just a chill traveler)
Word count : 981 words
Warning : Well, not really, but in case, spoiler about Liyue and Inazuma's Archon quest
​​​​✉️​Asks are open​✉️​
✨​ ​Let's go ! ✨​
EI/RAIDEN SHOGUN
You both started dating a few month after your first encounter, as you went across all Teyvat but always came back to Inazuma for a reason or another only for you to go talk to her for hours about whatever you saw or to give her some souvenir you brought, talking about why you were giving it to her.
Honestly, at first, she was kinda warry to letting you go. The last time she (unknowingly) let someone go was her sister and well, we all know what happened.
So she's trying to convince you to settle in Inazuma at the beginning of dating, like that, she can protect you or die with you in case a disaster falls on the Electro Nation.
Don't be mad at her, she's aware you love to travel, but on the other side, she can't afford to lose someone else she cares about. Though her attempts at convincing you to settle might lead to some fights because she's stubborn.
Once she gets you're strong enough to handle yourself in the wild (after a few weeks of talking about it + some travels where you came back perfectly fine) she'll actually go sometimes with you in your travels, if you want it, of course.
Yae Miko was in charge of the Shogunate while she was away, discovering the world.
Traveling was bringing her a new perception of mortals and she was understanding more and more Makoto's point of view about eternity.
When you travel with her, she is clueless about how moras are important but in the wild, she would be the one bringing back food for you to cook or resources to get a nice spot to settle for the night.
When sleeping with you (if she's able to sleep), she holds you protectively very close, in fear of losing you. She's the big spoon.
If you happen to go to an inn for the night, she'll take the desserts as a meal and sleep as close as she can to you.
A very good travel buddy. Not talking too much, and enjoying whatever nature has to offer.
When she can't come with you, she'll stay in Inazuma, waiting for you to come, a bit anxious.
But she'll make time to always greet you, and let you talk for hours around various pictures, souvenirs, notes and food, like you usually do.
Even if she doesn't really like to see you far away from her for too long, at the end, she encourages and lets you do it, as her duty is to always make sure that you can consider Inazuma a home to go back to when you're tired of your last trip.
NINGGUANG
It would be a distance relationship, most of the time.
She never leaves Liyue Harbor, especially after all Rex Lapis' responsibilities fell in her hands along with the rebuilding of the Jade Chamber. At least, she can't afford to leave with all the changes Liyue is currently going through.
You, on the other hand, were always traveling. You loved it, discovering everything on your own, according to your own experience and not through books. Honestly, the only thing she asks you to consider when traveling is to not go anywhere near the Chasm.
Ningguang and you met during the rebuilding of the Jade Chamber, you brought her some important components and since then, you both often talked and it changed into a romantic relationship over time.
Just like her, you hate wasting your time and she likes this about it.
Despite how busy she is, she will always make time for you, to listen to your stories when you get back, carefully looking through your notes, pictures and everything your brought back. For her, those stories and souvenirs are also pieces of information, important to stay at the top of the business game.
She loves the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about travels. She can easily compare it to the shining mora she likes so much to have.
She lets you travel all you want. She even gives you some money to do so when you fall short on it. You don't have to say it, a pouch full of moras will be in your belongings as soon as you don't have any. Paimon would be jealous of this if she knew it.
When you come back to the Jade Chamber from your travels, she'll treat you to anything. She also has some gifts for you, as she wants to spoil you as long as you're with her.
When Liyue's situation stabilizes, with the changes and all... She'll travel with you, to celebrate it.
Ningguang's definition of simple is quite refined, so she might not really survive long in the wild alone, so you gladly help and she can get through it without a problem. She's not complaining though, she enjoys this time with you and she helps around.
When she sleeps with you, she has an arm loosely wrapped around your waist, to hold you close, but without trapping you in some hug.
If you stay at some inn, she'll always take the best room available, after all, traveling is tiring and she wants you to be fully rested to continue the travel ! If you worry about money, she'll say not to worry about it. This woman always has mora on her, somehow.
She's a good traveling buddy, no complaints despite things not being her ways. She just enjoys the experience with its good and bad side.
But she'll always be better at the Jade Chamber with you, only traveling by your side when there's something to celebrate. She knows she can't always travel, that's why each time you return, she greets you and you both can rest and be together, in the Jade Chamber, like some sort of pocket dimension disconnected from anything happening below the floating palace.
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theowritesfiction · 4 months
Text
Okay, so I have been watching The Bear, and I eventually got into the show over the course of S1, but now watching S2, it’s really pissing me off, I think it’s one of the most disappointing sophomore seasons in the history of TV, and I want to rant about it.
But first I wanted to address the rave reviews this show is getting on RT, especially the glowing audience reviews (I don’t give a rat’s ass about the critic reviews, there’s too much group think, peer pressure, conformism and paid shilling going on there that it’s not worth looking at). I looked at the audience reviews in more detail and immediately realized that the ‘people’ giving this show 5-star reviews all follow the same naming convention like Adam F, Christina V, Sam R, etc. In short – almost all of them are bots posting AI generated tripe. The 93% audience review aggregate is a complete sham.
Anyway, why do I hate S2? Well, I found this web article 10 Unpopular Opinions About the Bear and figured I’d look at them to see whether I agree or disagree. So, here we go.
10. The Bear Should Have Continued With The Beef, Not Gone Fine Dining
Yes, fuck yes. The chaotic atmosphere of a greasy spoon/rundown sandwich shop was what made the show. Transitioning to fine dining creates this immediate pretentious vibe that’s completely at odds with S1 mood/themes. And while shows always need to keep evolving, I feel like this was way too radical shift from one end of the spectrum to the very opposite end. Also, I haven’t been to Chicago and don’t know too much about the city, but I have a pair of eyes that still work, and they tell me that this is not a fucking fine dining location, like, it’s just not.
9. The Bear Should Have Stopped After Season 1
Why? Just make a season that doesn’t suck.
8. The Bear Symbolism Is Too On The Nose
I don’t care about the symbolism. It’s handled so ham-fistedly that it literally adds nothing to the show.
7. Ayo Edebiri Is Not A Good Sydney
Disagree. I know Sydney is a polarizing character (although if you want to find out actual valid reasons why someone might not like her, do expect that you’ll have to wade through a disturbing amount of hatred for ambitious black women), but her ‘problematic’ jerk moments are interesting to me, and I think are well acted.
6. Marcus Was Right to Keep Working on his Donuts
Obviously not, Marcus is a part of a brigade, work shift is no time for his pet projects. That said, the episode of Marcus in Copenhagen is the most boring episode in recent TV history. 35 minutes on basically telling me that he leveled up his cooking skill. That could have been an e-mail.
Also, this is why I hate fine dining. Instead of making delicious donuts, this guy spent months training how to prepare pretentious desserts that only the rich 1% will be able to afford. Good job, Marcus, you’re now ready to lick the boots of the rich elites.
5. Richie Was The Real Victim Of The Bear Season 1, Episode 7
No, and triple fuck Richie, the worst character of past decade in TV history. I remember reading one of the anti-Sydney threads on reddit hellhole, and people were posting in masses about how ‘well at least Richie isn’t as bad as Sydney’ and ‘at least Richie gets his redemption’. I’m now at S2E7 and I’m still waiting for this asshole to show any redeeming qualities. I don’t know, maybe I’ve had one too many toxic coworkers like Richie, but I hate this guy an unreasonable amount, I want to stick ice picks in his eye sockets and leave him to bleed out as a service to humankind.
4. The Bear Season 2 Was A Letdown
Yeah, no shit.
3. (ignored as it deals with S2 finale spoilers)
2. People Should Ship Sydney & Marcus, Not Syd & Carmy
Hard disagree. People can ship who they want, but both of these pairings will be dysfunctional. As someone who’s all about shipping, I will be the first to say that this show shouldn’t be about ships. All of these people are completely toxic workaholic assholes who have no time for relationships and should never consider entering one. Syd/Marcus and Syd/Carmy is essentially marrying your job for the second time.
1.      Claire's Story In The Bear Season 2 Didn't Work
Again, no shit, and what I’m going to say shouldn’t be taken as an insult to Claire, I have nothing against her character, but rather to the way she was used. Claire is pretty much used to show that Carmy is unable to have normal healthy romantic relationships. But I already knew that from everything the show told us about Carmy before introducing Claire, so I feel like the show is treating me like a child by talking down to me and repeatedly pointing out the obvious. In the end, Claire is reduced to being a completely unnecessary story vehicle to tell us something we already knew, with no agenda of her own.
So yeah, as you can tell, it’s been a very rough watch. I definitely do NOT recommend The Bear to anyone. Do yourself a favor and stay well away.
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caluski · 9 months
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If you were cooking for a dinner party (and money/space is not a problem), what would you cook? Would you make a playlist? Or maybe put some flowers on the table?
Ah I wishhhhhh I had more time to get into writing a long answer rn instead of getting ready for work bc I love planning imaginary parties so much........ But since money wouldn't be an issue, I'd definitely make baked salmon as main entrée. Just plain salmon I think, with tomatoes most importantly, but also other veggies that taste good baked on their own bc I think it's always fun to put up a plate where guests can just grab whichever veggie they like, as opposed to like... Them being mixed together, so u just grab a spoonful and then someone has to pick out something that they don't like (I always have that issue with onions...). Definitely a dressing on the side, maybe like a herbal/dill one since that goes well with salmon.
And then as an alternative meal, I think I'd serve a huge bowl of tagliatelle (it's such a dinner party pasta!!!) but sauce on the side (I feel like that's always more considerate of guests preference) , probably something with spinach and chicken and mushrooms? Id definitely have to think about what my guests like, and then think of something they'd enjoy too, obviously.... But I think I'd avoid meat in general. Definitely as little dairy as possible, too, so people don't feel too heavy after the meal. Nothing too spicy, either (unless I'm the only one in the company that doesn't like it).
And ah, obviously would prepare a bit of soup, too. I guess that depends on the season, but a good one is always green pea cream soup. It tends to feel a bit too bland in excess, but in small servings it's absolutely delicious, and so perfectly warm for the tummy. Maybe with croutons? I'm not sure.
And when it comes to dessert, that also depends on what my guests would enjoy bc I don't really eat cakes or whatever. If I really don't have the time/money limit, i think I'd like to try making the little tapioca puddings! I think they're fun and delicious, especially if I could serve them in like large shot/gazpacho glasses. Maybe alternate between fruity fillings at the bottom, perhaps cherry, raspberry, bilberry....
I think when it comes to alcohol, id make it vodka/beer-free :) if it's like my dream party then it would be probably a celebration of maybe a big promotion I'd get, or getting engaged, maybe welcome party to an apartment of my own.... And idk i just always found that vodka and beer don't really work with it you know? I'd serve wine. MAYBE coctails if there's space to make them (I guess then a little vodka would be okay but like, you know, no pure shots) bc it would be so much fun to make mojitos or margaritas for my loved ones. Everything in the fanciest glasses I could afford, looking lovely, stocked up on ice and slices of lemon on the rim.... Obviously non alcoholic drinks too, I think that goes without saying.
When it comes to music, i have my love and food playlist always ready to go :-) by now it's I think 13 hours long though, so I'd queue my favorite songs, like the more romantic/jazzy ones and avoid the tracks that are too sad. But with decor i am so so so bad 😭 so I'd probably just settle for something simple, like candle sticks in a cute color sticked into the two holders I bought on sale a while ago, and with flowers I'd probably end up asking for advice my mom or sister since they're so much better at this than I am.... Oh, I love how many different napkins they are in home decor stores tho, and I never get a chance to buy them and use them!!!! Sometimes they're like in rainbows or with kittens and puppies or with cute messages like "have a great day" and such..... I even bought a pack once, with a bus that was full of puppies, it was soooooo adorable and SO much more fun than the regular plain white/cream colored napkins. Even if they are cheaper :/ but again, this is like a big occasion so I'd splurge a little.
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sirthisisa-wendys · 2 years
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Liberation (Part 5): Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader
synopsis: Keizo reveals the apex of his generosity and a rough night of restless sleep can only be solved with quick thinking and even quicker hands. But will you allow it to ease your insomnia?
wc: 1.4k
tw: smut
previous part 🏛 masterlist 🏛 next part
Keizo looks over at you often during dinner, his right hand spooning food into his mouth with his left hovers around your knee. You, however, can barely touch your food.
"Are you not hungry?" Keizo whispers, his eyes flicking to your almost-full plate and your face. The other girls watch you two interact carefully, their eyes sneaking glances when possible. But you're frozen to your seat, not out of fear, but something a little more... innocent. "If you're not hungry, we can--"
"What do you think of the meal?" Ms. Mako wonders, coming out of the kitchen with dessert in her hands. As she sets the fresh pie down on the table, Keizo wipes his mouth dutifully.
"It's wonderful," he begins. "Haven't had a decent meal in a few days..."
"What's it like?" Ann chimes in, her fork tongs hovering over the steamed vegetables. "The assignments you go on, I mean."
"They're..." Keizo pauses, thinking, and his fingers on your leg begin to tap a slight beat. "Adventures, to say the least. The other colonies are odd, but not in a bad way."
As Keizo begins to tell the tale of his most recent exploration, you find yourself listening to him with rapt fascination. The others are also enthralled, perhaps more excited about the tales of other colonists. "We're officers of our own fleet, and I work closely with a group of three others."
"Do the other colonies have selections like we do?" Lisette wonders, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear.
"I don't know," Keizo states, frowning. "But I'm sure they have some initiative to stabilize the population."
"That's enough questions, ladies," Ms. Mako interjects, slicing the pie with ease. "Let the man eat." The girls giggle, but you're more focused on how Keizo's hand remains on your leg, its warmth seeping through your bones and past your uncertainty.
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"Your new home." The statement is punctuated with the engine cutting off, and you sit in the car, staring at the one-story home. "Wanted to bring you here before the rest of the... stuff so you could get a feel for your new place." The house is made of white stucco - the luxurious type of stone reserved for those with money - and boasts large windows. The lawn is lush and green, and a flower bed sits outside the front walkway, inviting you past the dark brown door.
"Come on." Keizo gets out, all smiles as he helps you out of the car with a gentleman-like composure. Your feet walk across the stone pathway up to the house, and when Keizo swings the door open, you find yourself somewhat stunned.
"It's not much compared to the other houses," he begins, waving his tan hand around in the air. "But it's what I could afford. I thought a one-story house would suffice until you decided you wanted something more. By then, I should be making enough money but... Is it... to your liking?" You turn to the man standing in the foyer, his eyes curious.
"It's..." You pause, looking for the word. "It's so different."
"Different," Keizo echoes, nodding slowly. "I take it that means you're not pleased."
"Why would I not be pleased?" you question. Your selector looks away, wringing his hands together like a worried wife.
"I can always purchase something more suited to your tastes," he offers. "I would need to pull out a loan, secure a buyer for the home, move the furniture--" You approach Keizo with care, touching his arm and bringing him out of his rushing thoughts.
"I love it," you whisper. "Thank you." Keizo's shoulders lower at your admission of thanks, and he exhales deeply.
"There are two bedrooms; his and hers," he mentions, walking in that direction. "That way, you can have space when you need it." He opens a door to what appears to be your bedroom. "All yours. I'm just down the hall, too." He points toward the other door, and you follow.
You get the full tour through the house, returning to the foyer as the night draws its starry curtain across the sky. "We should stay the night," you breathe. "I think a few girls are getting visits soon."
"It is almost nine," Keizo adds, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sure we should be okay since... things are progressing." You look down at your stomach, wondering if it has become more prominent in the past few days, then look back up at Keizo. "Should I say goodnight?"
"Yes," you nod, and Keizo gently takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles while holding your gaze.
"Goodnight, y/n. Get some rest."
But even as you settle into your own room, you can't rest. Not with the emptiness so prominent, so obvious. You toss and turn for hours until a whisper of thought comes into your mind, one that begs you to get up and ease your suffering.
And that's how you find yourself stumbling around in the dark, feeling your way toward Keizo's room. You open the door without knocking, sure he'd be asleep, but you find him wide awake, sitting in his bed and typing away at a laptop.
"Keizo?" you whisper, and he looks up, somewhat startled to see you in the doorway.
"What's wrong?" he wonders, setting his device aside and getting out of bed, shirtless. You lose your train of thought as he approaches you, swirls and patterns dancing across taut skin and muscle. But the spell is broken again when he touches your chin with his index finger and thumb. What is going on in my mind?
"Can't sleep."
"Mmm," Keizo hums, then takes your hand, bringing you into his room. You take in the wooden headboard illuminated by the screen's light and the tousled sheets, but you nestle into them anyways, tucked in by Keizo's steady hand.
But even though you're in bed next to someone who is undoubtedly safe, you still can't fall asleep. Keizo seems unphased until you sit up, sighing.
"Am I being too loud?" he asks, but you shake your head.
"I just can't relax," you grumble, frowning.
"I can help with that," he whispers, and you turn to him. "But it would require some... touching." You understand the insinuation and nod, hoping whatever it is will ease you off to sleep. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmurs, and you nod again. Firm hands flip you over and go beneath your clothes to touch your back, kneading at sore spots and tight areas with skill.
"Used to need these after long missions," Keizo murmurs. "I would hire the best hands in the colony to ease my problems. They put me to sleep every time." The repeated rubbing and kneading makes you sink into the bed, and you open your mouth to exhale, but a moan escapes. Keizo's hands pause, but you whisper,
"Don't stop." So he keeps going. As they drift down to your lower back, you involuntarily moan again, feeling a pop and a crack here and there. And then you mutter: "Lower." Keizo knows what you mean, his hands dipping around your hips and thighs easily. You don't ask him to stop when his fingers slip past your thighs, and not even when they swipe at your cunt, making you angle your hips up.
You're not sure what keeps you from stopping him, but you don't care. Decorum be damned. Fingers slip into your slit, and your breathy moans are joined by Keizo's, meaning nothing and something all at the same time. Your hips buck, riding his fingers to a release you've never had before but that you're focused on achieving.
The squelching sounds your cunt makes around his fingers are unholy, but you can't stop. You won't stop. Not until you're satisfied. And when you find your release building behind a wall of pressure, you squeeze your eyes shut, dig your hands into sheet-flesh, and let out a guttural groan you've never uttered before.
Light dances behind your lids as you surrender to the feeling, and your body quakes under Keizo's skilled fingers, dropping you into an oblivion-type bliss that sends you straight to the land of the sleeping, Keizo's voice calling out to you from the beyond, like a ghost hoping for some attention.
"...you did so well..." the disembodied voice chants, littering kisses on your flushed cheeks. "Sleep easy, beautiful girl... sleep easy..."
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villanesus · 10 months
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Maaaaaasoooooooon :3 (i would pounce but I'm almost sure you wouldn't want that so I don't) Let's talk about Villanelle for a change :3
What moment where you hooked on Villanelle as a character?
Which scene/moment is most memorable to you?
What do you have in common with her?
Is there a scene/moment that had an impact on your life?
1. What moment were you hooked on Villanelle as a character?
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Honestly, the first scene? Not just the fact that she knocks the ice cream into the kid’s lap, although that would be enough. The way she tries to engage the kid almost experimentally and fails. Watching her study and then emulate the differences in the smiling expressions? That piece was very relatable for me. 
And the glee on her face when she’s walking out of the ice cream parlor? Amazing.
Re-watching it, seeing the blood drop on the watch, and then realizing that she stopped to get ice cream shortly after murdering a guy in broad daylight in public? 
I want this woman to be my friend. She will get me arrested or killed, and it will be so fun. 
2. Which scene/moment is most memorable to you?
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Probably like a 16-way tie between a bunch of scenes, but one of my favorites to re-watch is Eve swallowing the pills during the kitchen scene in 2x05. Both of our ladies do such an amazing job with that scene. The tears spilling silently down Sandra’s face and Jodie’s little micro expressions. It tells us so much about the characters. And all the tension. 
Followed immediately by my favorite asshole’s arsenic prank. 
3. What do you have in common with her?
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Extravagance and desserts. 
I don’t really give off an extravagant vibe—I’m not sophisticated—but I will buy whatever I want whenever I can afford it. (Footnote: I will never be able to retire.) I make foolishly extravagant gestures to others and give gifts at random. I’ve always been this way, even when I didn’t have much income. 
I once bought a friend an electric bass—a new friend, like a friend I had known for three months—as a birthday gift and then realized I didn’t have enough money for tuition, so had to return it (luckily before I actually gave it as a gift). 😅 
I do the same thing in little ways, too. I’ve just gifted random things to fellow tumblr kids—some KE blogger is having a bad day? Surprise ad-free for a year, surprise have a horse, surprise have some (apparently contentious) badges, etc. I usually do it anonymously because I’ve found it creeps people out. There is no ulterior motive, I just treat social interactions like the Sims (action queue: talk, talk, tell joke, tell joke, tell joke, tell joke, give gift, give gift—meanwhile, only three minutes have passed in real life), and I feel ashamed and chagrined when people don’t like it.
I feel like Villanelle is similar in that she obviously buys what she wants, but she also sees gift-giving as a social currency. Maybe it’s her love language, but I see it as her showing interest by doing the thing she likes for herself (have nice stuff) for others (gifts for Anna, Eve, even Bor’ka’s Elton money). And dessert is just … the way to live your life. Villanelle likes sweets. Hagelslag, ice cream, candy. I will eat chocolate chips straight out of the bag, rainbow chip frosting with a spoon, always order it at the end of a meal out, etc.
About the show more broadly, I love that KE has both Villanelle and Eve eating regularly and in a very human way. And enjoying it! They’re not Women Eating Salad, they are choking to death on pasta and eating pastries mid-meeting. 
4. Is there a scene/moment that had an impact on your life?
[Footage not found wanted.]
I’m scrunching up my nose right now because I have to say it—the series finale. I’ve never been so furious over a show ending in my life, nor a character death (not even Lexa, which was supreme bullshit). 
It was probably the first time I felt something approximating real grief for a fictional character? I was wrecked for months and I honestly think half of my KE hyperfixation is a coping mechanism? I liked the show a lot before—liked the first two seasons, was kind of neutral on the third, and then that finale, man. Lost my shit. 
I’ve re-watched the entire show (sans the final three minutes) dozens of times now. Maybe more. Probably more. I have read at least 300 fanfics and reread some of those dozens upon dozens of times. I have my silly KE/Twilight fic but I also have a separate unpublished fix-it fic where I have been rewriting the entire show from start to finish while reincorporating the interesting pieces from the books. (I’m only into season two of the plot and it’s so long it has broken the word count feature in the Bear app where I write.)
All in response to that shitty ending.
But to round it out with something nicer, the bridge scene hurts my heart in the best possible way. Does that impact my life? I dunno. But it's the scene that always leaves me whooping and shouting about character growth and love, so it's something.
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bobochen-3344-blog · 27 days
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Ceramic Small Spoon For Coffee Cup Mug Spoons,i like them very much
5Pcs/Set Ceramic Small Spoon For Coffee Cup Mug Spoons Latte Sugar Tableware Small Handle Dessert Teaspoon
5.99 USD Free shipping to Usa:)
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fromslumber · 1 year
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tastes like strawberries (ao3) leo joins tsukasa for a little stress relief. a gift for a friend ♡
This, Tsukasa decides, without the slightest scrap of exaggeration, is the highlight of his whole week.
Maybe his whole month, even. It's been an especially long and toiling one. More-so than ever, both his duties to Knights and his duties to his family have kept him impossibly busy. While Tsukasa prides himself in doing what he can to balance everything thrust upon his plate, and in doing a good job doing so, he is only human. A month or so of constant responsibility deserves proper respite.
And Tsukasa thinks, truly, what better respite is there than this? Finally, finally, he can cast aside all that weighed upon him in this last week, month, whichever (in this moment, Tsukasa can afford to think less of the details), and lose himself here. Here, where Tsukasa's eyes fall closed in bliss as his lips draw similarly closed around his long parfait spoon, readily surrendering to the sweet weight of the treat on his tongue. He savours that weight, same as he savours the first wondrous bite of strawberry, and then the soft floaty cream sandwiched between.
This — sweets after all sorts of running around and a variety of different stressors — is its own sort of heaven. Tsukasa can't help himself; he lets out a contented little sigh.
There is a laugh across from him. Tsukasa's eyes blink open, of course, finding his companion — er, rather, his date — on the other side of their small café table. Leo smiles back at him.
In his eyes there is a certain sort of fondness, just for Tsukasa. In the curve of his lips is a certain sort of impishness — also, both fortunately and unfortunately, often just for Tsukasa.
Tsukasa swallows. What is left of the parfait on his spoon goes down with it.
"What are you laughing at, exactly?" Tsukasa asks. It's not like he'd forgotten he wasn't alone, or anything. It's not even like this would be the first time Leo's seen him acting like he has. Tsukasa pouts a little, digging his spoon back into his parfait before bringing it back to his lips. He keeps his eyes open, this time. Leo does a poor job of concealing another giggle. A bit sulkier, Tsukasa adds: "The face I'm making isn't that funny, I'm sure."
"Not really," Leo chimes. "Well, it sorta is, but that isn't it. You're cute, Suo!"
Tsukasa feels his cheeks warm. "Oh."
Leo hums, content. Mischievous, too, but enough for Tsukasa to overlook as he draws the spoon from his mouth again, letting it rest on his bottom lip. Then, his eyes widen, head jerking up to meet Leo's gaze properly.
"Wait, 'that isn't it?' What is it, then?"
"Ah, ah, but that's no fun! Let's play the game, 'What about cute lil' Suo is making me laugh!'"
"I don't want to right now," Tsukasa says, pouting again. He's not so much self-conscious, anymore. He's mostly just curious, wanting to know what's caught Leo's eye, and also wanting him to take it a little easy on him. And, also, "I want to eat my dessert."
As he moves to look back to said dessert, he catches Leo's smile curling wider from the corner of his eye. When his line of sight drifts closer to its target, it catches on Leo's dessert, as well: untouched, right down to even the cutlery still sitting in its pre-set place.
Tsukasa's brows furrow. "You haven't even started yours."
Leo laughs. Brighter, fuller, without any attempt at stifling it. "It's not gonna run away! Unless you're planning on snatching it, I guess."
"I would not, unless you gave me explicit permission — …"
"Never mind, never mind! My point is, I'm not in any rush."
Leo's head tilts to the side, the golden flecks in his electric green eyes striking when they're caught by the café's low lights. He's regarding Tsukasa openingly, fond and impish and content and mischievous, and, though curiosity burns at him, this time Tsukasa simply lets him. Leo's just entertained by his attempts to understand, it seems, so he will leave it be and enjoy his parfait. It's not like he minds having the other's attention — even if it is a little embarrassing knowing it's at the cost of Leo neglecting his own sweet of choice.
And —
Alright, no. Never mind. He's too curious, after all. He can't exactly lose himself in his dessert-induced heaven like this.
"Leo-san," he starts, after carefully clearing his throat. "Please, let me know — …"
"Aaaarrghh, seriously, I can't take this anymore!" Leo cries, all of a sudden, interrupting Tsukasa a second time. He stands up, too, so abruptly his stool makes a skrrk noise as it's shoved back behind him. "Suo, you really have no idea!"
"S-sorry?" Tsukasa says. "I… That's right, I have no idea…?"
But Leo doesn't deem that with a real response. He's swept up in something beyond words, craning over the table in a way that, at the back of his mind, has Tsukasa realizing he's balanced himself on the tips of his toes. The pad of Leo's calloused thumb comes to Tsukasa's cheek, pressing as the rest of his hand cups him. Tsukasa's lips part — partially because of the light pressure, but also to try and form a question — only to be sealed closed by Leo's being pressed atop of them.
Tsukasa's heart stills, breath catching in his throat. He should be used to Leo's abrupt affection by now, but the force of this still catches him by surprise — fleeting as it might be. The kiss is broken before Tsukasa has really had the chance to process it, and when Leo pulls back, it's with a slyer smirk than before. The thumb pressed against Tsukasa's cheek is pulled away and to Leo's mouth; Tsukasa has just enough time to catch sight of a spot of cream smeared across it before Leo pops it between his smiling lips. The entire sequence of events and this image both have Tsukasa's face burning.
"That's been on your face since you first started!" Leo says, by way of explanation. With his brain short-circuiting, it takes Tsukasa a moment to realize he means the cream that ended up on his thumb. And then in his mouth. And, ah, now that Tsukasa's looking, is now also caught at the corner of his lips? "I'm not in any rush, but you're sure eating like you are!"
"Ah, y-yes, of course," Tsukasa manages, a tinge embarrassed. He's also distracted by how Leo's tongue darts to try and catch that last spot of cream. Try as he might, Leo still misses, and the spot remains. "My apologies… I must have gotten ahead of myself."
"Wahaha! No need for apologies!" Leo's smile softens. "It made me laugh, but you're also cute, Suo."
Tsukasa nods, then smiles himself as he also starts to rise from his chair. "Though, if I may say so… I don't think you have much room to get on my case for eating messily."
"Hm?" Leo's eyes drop to his still-neglected plate, then lift back to meet Tsukasa's. His expression turns a bit sheepish. "I still haven't even started, though."
"No, you haven't," Tsukasa agrees. "But in general, and also…"
He punctuates the thought by leaning in, pressing his own chaste, fleeting kiss to the area where the cream still sits. Leo makes a small, surprised, but pleased chirp at the contact before he swings his arms around Tsukasa's neck. This brings that little kiss into an awkward mess of a hug, and laughter, and more ticklish little kisses over their cramped café table.
If Izumi catches wind of this P.D.A. whirlwind, much less discreet and careful than Tsukasa and Leo's typical stolen kisses and moments, Tsukasa will hear no end of it. Without a doubt, that will be its own stressor, and might lead to another long month of more.
But for now, Tsukasa casts all thoughts of that aside. He allows himself to surrender to this, just as he had to his parfait: Tsukasa greedily loses himself to sweet, sweet, stress-free bliss.
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lizhly-writes · 2 years
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cnovel shenanigans.  all this talk about how my man’s transmigrated into a gl novel, but did you ever wonder what that original novel might’ve been like?  if you did, congrats, here’s a bit of that.  
Jiang Mingxi didn’t mutter obscenities under her breath, but she sorely wanted to.  
She was late. 
She had a date with Yang Haoran that neither of them wanted.  Their parents had left them well enough alone when they were younger, aside from sanda practice, but now that both of them were nearing their mid-twenties and a theoretical wedding date, it was… strongly suggested that they spent time with each other.  To bond, they said.  After all, you couldn’t have a wedding if the bride and groom spent the entire time at each other’s throats.
“Sixteen minutes,” Yang Haoran said when she made it to their table.  His plate was clean, the cloth napkin still folded in an elaborate fan.  He had waited for her, then.  She had half expected him to start without her and then make some kind of comment on how some people needed to eat and couldn't afford to wait around all day for her.
“Sorry,” she grunted as she took her seat.
Yang Haoran raised an eyebrow at her as he looked her up and down – she became horribly aware the wrinkles in her blouse, the flyaway hairs she hadn’t had time to comb through.  “Should I be grateful that you showed up at all?”
“I was busy,” Jiang Mingxi snapped, and bit her tongue on the insult that could have followed: you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you?
“Mmm,” said Yang Haoran.  No actual words from him.  It was better that way.  His tone alone made her want to strangle him.  Better for it be quiet, the silence tense and measured as it always was – as it always had to be, if they were aiming for civility.  
They always had to be careful around each other.  Small talk centered about weather or something that neither of them knew much or cared much about.  Anything else was enough to start a fight.
Sometimes, she wanted it.  Sometimes, it felt good fighting him, good hurting him, good hurting each other.  The feeling never lasted, vicious satisfaction rotting quickly into something that sat unpleasantly in her stomach. 
This wasn’t the time.  That was the entire point of being, theoretically, in public.  An extra incentive not to make a fuss.
Yang Haoran didn’t speak much.  He stayed rigidly polite the entire time, with the occasional idle remark about the food, about a new artist’s gallery opening up nearby, about a drama he’d started watching recently.  Perfectly, beautifully inoffensive.
It made Jiang Mingxi’s skin crawl.
It was when they were almost finished with dessert that Yang Haoran finally said something real. “If you want to find a mistress, you should least be subtle about it,” he said, completely devoid of tone.
Jiang Mingxi jolted upright in her seat.  “What?” Surprise – and then the slow, familiar burn of anger clawing its way up her throat.  “Are you trying to say I’m having an affair?”
“Your parents won’t bring this up, so I suppose I need to,” Yang Haoran said, idly tapping his spoon against the rim of his plate.  “You’ve been paying significantly more attention to the entertainment circle than you used to.”
“That’s–”
“I always thought you thought that was beneath you.  Mm, but something’s caught your eye, now.”
“...I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
Yang Haoran raised a brow.  “Come now, we’re going to be husband and wife.  Doesn’t it make sense for me to look into what my fiancee is interested in?”  A corner of his mouth flicked up.  “Shared interests, and all.  Good for bonding, or so my parents tell me.”
“Stop talking around the topic,” Jiang Mingxi said lowly.  “What are you trying to get at?”
“It just seems that you’ve been interested in one actress in particular lately,” Yang Haoran said.  “Normally, I wouldn’t care, but, well.  I do pay attention when your name shows up in the papers.  Lately, it’s been showing up next to a certain name … Chen Lihua, was it?”
Jiang Mingxi was leaning across the table before she even knew it.
“You’re going to make a mess, Jiang Mingxi,” Yang Haoran said mildly, leaning slightly back.  “At least move the plates off to the side, you don’t need to get your elbow into the custard.”  Every line of his body seemed to be telling her not to act like a child, like someone who couldn’t control herself.
Jiang Mingxi hated it.  It was always Yang Haoran who made her feel like this. Her temper had mellowed out through the years, but it was explosive as a child, and Yang Haoran had always had a knack for resetting it all the way back to the beginning, even without trying.
She took a deep breath, hands slackening from the fists she had inadvertently curled them into.  “What about her.”
Yang Haoran raised an eyebrow.  “I haven’t even said anything yet.  Don’t be so defensive.”
“Who’s defensive, I’m just–”
Deep breaths.  Count to three.  It was hard to calm down when Yang Haoran watching her do it.
“...As I was saying.  You’ve been looking for that actress a lot.  It would be one thing if you were just backing her, but you’ve been… seeking her out.  Interacting with her.  Buying things for her.  Photographed doing all of those things with her, actually.”  Yang Haoran crossed his arms. “I’m sure your parents, if they’ve even noticed, think you’re just starchasing, but that’s not what this is, is it, Jiang Mingxi?”
“...You think I’m involved with Chen Lihua.”
“Well, you’re certainly making a big production out of it.”
“We went to the same college together.  That’s it.”
“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but we also went to the same college together, Jiang Mingxi. You’re not half as interested in me.”
“I already know you, don’t I?”
“And I know you,” Yang Haoran said, lips curling.  “And I know that you don’t just randomly meet up with collegemates to… what, get to know them?  Is that what you’re trying to say?”  
“Am I not allowed to get to know people?”
“The internet certainly suggests you’re doing more than that.”
“And you’re really believing the internet over me?”
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bonesandthebees · 7 months
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Hi bee no pressure to reply as always I am just trying to take my mind off things rn :))
Are u a hot coco, coffee, or mocha person
Also what's ur go to Starbucks order
I feel like you've already answered that so if you have... do u have a fav cake or OOOO for roses have you world builded any special made up food or do u have any particular idea of what food/desserts they eat?? :00
hi icyyy sorry I haven't gotten to your other asks yet i've been busy today rahhh
I'm a coffee person for sure. like, I seriously love coffee so much I only need one cup a day to function and usually won't let myself go over 2 cups a day but oh my god I want to have more so often
my go to starbucks order is an iced shaken espresso with oatmilk :) not the toasted vanilla shaken espresso or the brown sugar shaken espresso, just a plain iced shaken espresso with oatmilk bc I don't like sweet coffee that much
OOOO and you bet I'm also gonna take the opportunity to answer that worldbuilding question
I haven't decided on any specific dishes yet for rose, but I do know the types of food they eat! Arestes is coastal with a river running through nearly the entire country. all the cities are connected through waterways with canals and the transport of goods between cities is done entirely on boats (my recent trip through belgium and the netherlands definitely had a hand in deciding this lol)
so because of this, a lot of the cuisine is seafood based (this isn't to say they don't eat typical meat like beef and chicken, but seafood tends to be the go to). mussels and clams are extremely popular with the wealthier classes, while the working class tend to just eat fish instead. nobles also eat fish though, except it usually is accompanied by rich cream sauces and spices that the working class can't afford. usually for both rich and poor seafood is accompanied by baked vegetables of some kind. other side dishes can include different types of bread and cheeses
i'm still figuring out desserts, but I'd like to think they have a heavy emphasis on cream/dairy based desserts so fluffy pancakes usually served with cream and fruit, whipped cream flavored with spices like cinnamon and also fruit as well that can just be eaten with a spoon, trifles, sponge cakes, that kind of thing
(I myself do not have a favorite cake because I'm not a huge cake person in general. if I had to pick a cake I'd say chocolate is usually what I prefer, but I'd almost always choose a slice of pie over a slice of cake if I had the option) (unless we're counting tiramisu as a cake I do really like tiramisu)
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whumpofdory · 2 years
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The Spoiled Prince, Part 5
CW: Bruises from a beating, fear of torture, nonsexual nudity (just the person’s chest), non-sexual non-con touching
Evine slowly looked up at the figure towering before him. Oh gods, what did he want? He met those terrifying golden eyes and trembled harder. The king was just watching him, seeing his reaction. Alvard was first to break eye contact to calmly turn and walk toward the table towards one of the corners of the room. 
Evine looked around the new space; this the first time he had seen something other than the cold stone cell in a week. There was a small dining table with six chairs around it to the left of the door. Beyond that there was a sitting area with a sofa and two tall backed armchairs opposite with a large fireplace visible between them. In the middle of the far wall was a large four-poster bed. Evine’s heart sank when he saw it. He was in the king’s personal chambers. He prayed not in order to do that. 
In the far right corner was a desk and two doors right next to it, labelled in a language Evine didn’t understand. Finally in the corner to his right was a collection of weapons and trophies: a long sword that shimmered with enchantment, a set of sleek, attractive armour, and a few emblems with King Caelex’s crest on them. Trophies from the generals he captured and… 
Evine didn’t want to think what was done to them, or what was about to happen to him.
“Like my trophy case?” The king’s voice came from next to the table. Evine snapped his head to look at Alvard and swallowed.
“It’s certainly interesting, your Majesty. Very impressive.” He tacked on the second sentence, hoping it wasn’t overdoing it. 
“You really think so?” Alvard looked almost absent minded through the small talk. He stared off into space as he plucked an apple from a basket on the table and took a bite. Evine’s mouth watered. “Would you like one?”
Evine was dying for something to eat. He’d barely had food for a week. His stomach growled. “I… wouldn’t want to impose, your Majesty. But thank you.” It was likely a trap; if he took it the king would ask why he was hungry, and he would have to tell him what Callum was doing. He preferred to suffer in silent hunger than suffer the wrath of the king or Callum. Or both, if he was unlucky.
“Come here.” Alvard beckoned him with a hand. Evine hesitated for a second, then slowly stood and shuffled over to him. “Have a seat.” The chair in front of Evine was pulled out by unseen hands. He tentatively sat down and put his hands in his lap. With a wave of the king’s hand, a plate appeared in front of him. A bowl of stew and buttered bread. It smelled delicious, and he stared at it longingly. “Eat. The guard told me what Callum’s been doing. If I’d known earlier I would’ve done something sooner. My apologies.”
The king was apologising? To him? “I don’t mind, your Majesty. I’ve been through worse.” He laughed nervously and picked up the smooth wooden spoon to take a bite. It crossed his mind that it could be poisoned. The king could kill him either way, so it didn’t really matter one way or the other. Poison would be a mercy if even half the rumours were true. 
It was delicious. It tasted almost like the kind his mother made, warm and creamy. The bread was soft and still hot from the oven. He finished it more quickly than he would’ve liked and the king set a large apple in front of him. “Dessert.” Alvard said simply. Evine picked it up and took a large chunk out with his teeth. The king sat down next to him, watching him carefully.
“So,” the king began, “tell me what it’s like to work for Prince Callum.”Evine’s stomach twisted, his mind racing. How was he supposed to be honest and still paint the prince in a positive light? There were very few mercies Callum afforded anyone of the lower class, including his personal servants. 
“He’s easy to work for, I guess. He is very vocal about what he wants so I don’t have to wonder what he wants. And he lets me eat and get sleep when I need it. And he doesn’t punish me often.” The middle was only partially true; he was allowed to eat and sleep the minimum amount to keep a person running at the highest possible efficiency. The last part was a complete fabrication.
“Being a Grand Inquisitor, you learn to pick out when people are lying and when they’re telling the truth. That being said, would you like to change anything you just said to me?”
“I-” Evine cut himself off as he paled. He glanced up at the king and back down to his apple. “He punishes me more often than that implied. Sorry, your Majesty.” This would likely earn him some sort of pain; he didn’t know if he could take it on top of the lattice of bruises from Callum’s hunger-inspired rampage. 
“Has he done so since you’ve been here?” Alvard already knew the answer; the guard had told him everything. Even so, it was important to see if the boy would be honest.
“Only once.”
“He beat you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, with the chains.”
“Let me see.” Evine stood and slowly pulled off his shirt. A network of dark bruises covered him, with edges of sickly greenish yellow. The king’s eyes slowly looked over him. “Why?” The king’s voice had almost no emotion. He’d seen, and inflicted, wounds like this often enough. But he couldn’t think of anything the servant could’ve done in the cell to warrant this. 
“I asked for too much of the food one day.” Evine sounded defeated. 
“How ridiculous.” He stepped back in fear as the king reached out for him. Alvard simply took the step with him and his hand gently splayed on the servant’s chest. Evine felt a tingle over his skin as magic flowed over him, healing the wounds.
He felt numb with relief after the king’s hand left him and he was asked to put his shirt back on and ordered to tell Callum nothing of what happened. Evine barely heard the king calling for the guard, or felt himself being guided back to a cell, across the corridor from Callum’s. He didn’t know what King Alvard was planning to do. All he knew was that he had just had a very close encounter with one of the most infamous torturers in the world and been shown empathy. 
He did his best to ignore Callum’s questions, only saying he couldn’t tell him what happened. The prince eventually gave up asking, preferring his new habit of pacing and muttering. When the food was brought that evening, Evine was able to eat in peace for the first time in a week. 
The next morning, Callum and Evine were woken up by a loud ringing. Alvard was dragging a thick metal rod back and forth across the bars of Callum’s cell. “Good morning Prince Callum! I’ve decided it’s time to give you a lesson in respect.” With this, the king stepped through the bars and advanced toward the prince.
Taglist: @whumpy-butterflies @pigeonwhumps
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ink-stained-words · 2 years
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-A kitchen cabinet crammed full of tiny bottles. We could spend an afternoon labeling them. Smudged cursive, faded from sunlight. Spices and bones and whatever else you decide to save
-A cookbook with handwritten recipes. A pile of notecards beside it of the ones thus far untested. The best ones get Polaroids
-Reusable grocery bags. Even if we end up somewhere that doesn't charge for plastic bags. Maybe they match, maybe they're like magnets on the fridge. Souvenirs from all the places we've gone.
-So many windows. Maybe even one in the roof. Sunlight!
-A small table for eating, with comfy chairs. Something in the middle. Maybe flowers? Or an especially pretty teapot. With wildflowers in it, inevitably
-A bookshelf in the corner. It was supposed to have recipes, but then it got cluttered with knickknacks and thrifted books
-Pictures on the fridge, cute little magnets. Postcards from friends
-Cute cabinets. Not the generic ones from houses on HGTV. It has to feel like home, not a showroom in Ikea
-Maybe vines, hung from the top. They get in the way of grabbing plates and mugs, so maybe we'd take them down. Maybe we'd forget
-Which reminds me! I have so many mugs. If you get a witchy cabinet, I get a mug & tea cabinet. A lot have silly little puns.
-At least two are handmade, since I think going to a pottery place is on our itinerary
-I like curtains more than blinds. It feels more, like. Cottagecore, I suppose. Maybe we can sew some. Blinds would also work, I'm not extremely picky about the window coverings
-The windowsills do have tiny succulents on them though. I like opening the windows a lot. Nice breeze
-A whiteboard on the wall, with a song lyric written in the corner, & whatever you curse me with in the other
-A calendar beside it, so we can keep track of everything
-Photos on the walls. Friends and vacations and families, pets and Etsy prints and posters
-I wonder what color dishes we would have. I'm in favor of mismatched ones, with cute little frogs or stars. Single toned ones are a bit boring
-A lot of small spoons. I don't see the purpose in big ones. At least one set of cute little themed ones, like the ones for tiny children? Probably more. I like tiny silverware
-Very cool kitchen towels. My mom has a lot of chicken ones. I feel like the kitchen would have a theme, but a very specific one that makes sense to us but not really anyone else. Sort of like lore.
-The kitchen is essentially just a physical representation of lore
-We'd quite possibly have a fancy set of china that we found at a thrift store. Sometimes we have fancy little parties and play music or watch a show, for no particular reason
-There's at least one speaker. We take turns picking music. I do actually choose music, in this kitchen. I don't make you do it every time
-I will rope you into quite a few late-night dance parties. I like spinning around while I do the dishes. Which, all things considered, isn't particularly smart, but whatever
-The fridge is full of food we both like, as well as the freezer and the pantry. A never ending supply of safe foods
-There's ice-cream and chocolate chips for emergency desserts, and cheddar & sour cream chips and cookies and sour gummy worms
-And crisp apples and bananas and oranges, and whatever looks particularly nice at the farmer's market that we can sometimes afford to browse
-If we, for some reason or another, end up with one of those tiny wine fridges, it'll have vitamin water and monsters in it
-I like hardwood floors better than tile. I'm not sure we'd be able to pick. But if we do, hardwood is prettier
-We only buy one specific kind of Tupperware. So we can't end up with lids that don't fit
-Oh, we could get cool measuring cups
-And there's this magnet I found on Etsy that has measurement conversions, with Jester & Caduceus off to the side. It's very cute. And sold out, but we could find something like it
-I dunno? It'll be ours. That alone is lovely
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