Tumgik
#they’re not good cooks- everything is dry or bland
bikeparrot0 · 2 years
Text
Creative Meals Catering
The easy technique is incredibly versatile, excellent for beginners, and makes cleanup a breeze. Add all of the remaining greens except the green beans, and bring back to a simmer. Cover and simmer over low warmth for 45 minutes to an hour. Everyone was amazed at how the soup had remodeled just by including a simple pistou. They all crowded around the chrome steel tables sipped their wines and dipped their crusty bread into the good and cozy broth. This recipe is as near my mom's normal Sunday soup as I may find. The remark about it being an excessive amount of tomato obtained it totally mistaken. Most veggie soup doesn't have sufficient tomato. I make it for groups with cornbread and so they all flip. I might go overboard on the veggies generally, but hey. It's nice with cornbread or a grilled cheese. I added several cubes of beef bouillon and slightly bit of sugar to the pot. The recipe as written may be very bland and style like tomatoes. 100+ Mild Dinner Ideas Edamame are immature soybeans that can be enjoyed steamed, cooked, or dried. Plain, unsweetened Greek yogurt is a handy work snack that’s higher in protein than regular yogurt. Jerky is a shelf-stable, high-protein snack that may satisfy your starvation during the workday. Tuna is loaded with filling protein and omega-3 fatty acids that are recognized to struggle irritation and will lower your threat of heart illness . To make roasted chickpeas, drain a can of chickpeas and pat dry. There could additionally be special age-restricted sections for "seniors" or for children, presenting smaller parts at decrease costs. Any of these sections may be pulled out as a separate menu, similar to desserts and/or drinks, or a wine list. A children's menu may be offered as a placemat with video games and puzzles, to help maintain youngsters entertained. Those attending the post-funeral reception are not anticipating a gala extravaganza. Using a caterer to supply the food for the funeral reception is actually a trend that's on the rise. It is a superbly acceptable various when you can afford it. Aside from the fact that everything will be taken care of for you, a caterer can offer you recommendation on what meals is suitable and the way a lot you can purchase. Catering I liked that you just identified that doing a pasta bar could possibly be a really low cost method to cater for a lot of people. That is nice for me to know as a result of I am going to try to help my sister discover a good caterer for her marriage ceremony. My MIL bought me an incredible picnic caddy from Costco one year and I use it for EVERY SINGLE gathering we now have. If you need to combine things up, attempt updating the classic pork pie recipe by including bacon, mustard and some sun-blushed tomatoes. Watch the smile on individuals's faces as they chunk into these refreshingly different sausage, bacon and mustard pies. One of our favourite buffet meals ideas needs to be scotch eggs. As you presumably can see in our video above, they’re so easy to make from scratch. This helps navigate the flow of individuals huddled around the meals. A small budget needn’t mean bland, boring options. Here are a few cheap catering ideas that can still make an impression at your occasion. You don’t wish to serve noticeably cheap food objects or compromise on style. Sometimes the key is presenting food in a way that makes the merchandise go further so it works well for your price range however looks anything but low-cost. Our Prime 5 Favourite Office Lunch Ideas An promoting agency surprises its workers with a frozen yogurt bar within the break room, hoping to boost worker happiness within the midst of a big pitch. This salad was then accompanied with a sherry-garlic marinated & grilled tri-tips steak seasoned with ramp salt, peppercorns and topped with a ramp of pesto. And we'll present you the 7 steps to create a advantages and perks program that helps your distant team. Cocktail Functions that don’t embody dinner name for 10 to 15 appetizer servings per individual. It's essential to cease and note that drinks won't work in your specific company tradition. In current years, the backlash toward corporate drinking has grown. Planning a New Year's Eve get together, or a vacation get together at your personal home or workplace in Northern Virginia, Maryland or DC? Make your holidays stress-free this 12 months with Saint Germain Catering for a celebration the need always remember. Our professional group will ensure your guests sit up for celebrating the season with you! No matter the dimensions of your group, our sales group will take the stress out of holiday planning, and our culinary staff will present a memorable feast. Simply Gourmet additionally provides Bar Service together with professionally educated bartenders and multiple bar choices to match your company’s wants. The success of Daily Croissant enabled my family to buy Saint Germain Cafe within the Tysons Galleria in 1988. At Saint Germain Café, I found myself performing a number of tasks — cooking, cleansing, waiting tables and managing. I discovered a great deal from simply the on a regular basis expertise of being across the household enterprise. I realized about customer support, staying organized, working a clear restaurant, and maintaining impeccable enterprise ethics. 10 Marriage Ceremony Catering Concepts To Allure Your Friends In 2021 Our culinary and event planning team have over 50 years of expertise in bringing your whole special occasions to life. For birthdays, confirmations, graduations, engagement events, anniversaries, vow renewals and reunions, we are ready to convey your celebrations to life. Our indoor space is ideal for smaller festivities up to 70 friends or full galas in the open air up to a hundred and fifty friends. Since being founded in 1948 by John Fitzgerald, to it’s current possession by the Shope household, Fitzgerald’s has maintained its concentrate on making you a guest at your individual celebration. On the day of your occasion, take out the inside liter bottle and use your lovely ice cooler as a centerpiece in addition to a cooler. Fitzgerald's Fine Catering offers personalized menu options to energize your sense of style, experienced employees, cleaned silver and china, rich supplies and beautiful serving embellishments. We can customize a menu to swimsuit your budget and requirements. Catering Los Angeles birthday events requires sophistication and variety. Depending the time of the day you want to rejoice, we will supply our Breakfast menu, brunch, lunch, cocktails or dinner service. I also assume the gown and the flowers/decor are one thing people notice. Dynamite decor and a stunning dress create buzz and that’s something friends get pleasure from. More importantly, YOU and your groom will discover these items in your images for years to come. It’s essential to my fiance to rejoice big with all our friends and family. We have both waited a lengthy time for a soulmate connection and he needs to shout it from the rooftops. So, we're planning a very private ceremony on a mountaintop adopted by a kick butt reception at a very pretty and cheap rec center. The largest problem that meals trucks pose is a logistical one. If your truck needs access to an outlet for energy, you additionally want to ensure that its parking area accommodates this want. Since food trucks typically serve dishes in disposable containers with plastic utensils and cups, clean-up, once the food is completed, is easy. Just just make sure you have loads of trash cans on your guests to dispose of their waste. Plated Dinner Menu Because plates are being handed round giant center-pieces and really get in the means in which and turn out to be a nuisance. Plated weddings with a couple of meal possibility additionally require that you just ship out response cards so you know who will get what and you can account for things like meals allergy symptoms. Aside from worth, each option has a selection of execs and cons, listed below are some issues you could need to consider when planing your wedding’s epic feast. This can also be fun when showcasing an "Around The World" kind of menu or perhaps a "Market" sort of menu (Fresh veggie station, carved meat part, cheeses, breads, desserts, pastas...). 2) This choice nonetheless is in all probability not essentially the most appropriate should you your whole guests need to be finished at the very same time. 1) Because this feature requires little to no staff to maintain it, it's typically a lot less expensive than "Plated" meals. A three-hour sit-down meal served household fashion with a full-service workers to take care of your every need and to serve drinks primarily based on consumption or open bar. We hope you’ll find this assortment of tips useful as you start the planning process! The Officer’s Club is proud to supply reliable, full-service, and customizable catering choices on your guests to enjoy, along with providing stunning indoor and outdoor event house. Learn extra about their Sacramento occasion venue and catering options right here. We counsel personalizing your wedding menu to your love story. One of our favorite concepts is to pull concepts from every of your households. Packages embody but usually are not restricted to Open Bar (Beer, Wine & Libations) Premium and Standard, Open Bar (Beer & Wine) Premium and Standard, Consumption Bar, Cash Bar, and Signature Cocktails. When making plans to cater your personal wedding, bear in mind that you are one individual. In truth, you're one very busy individual around the time of your wedding. Tips On How To Scale Back Meals Waste In Restaurant & Catering Business Dull knives are extra harmful for you and your workers. Swap out 外燴 -use disposable plates, cups, cutlery, espresso pods, and other breakroom objects with certified compostable alternate options. Encourage employees and students to bring their own reusable service ware. •Reusable packaging may offer a extra sustainable alternative to single-use packaging. Our range of food waste options helps you monitor and reduce waste throughout manufacturers, sectors and geographies. As mentioned above, it’s extremely troublesome to recycle Styrofoam. Even after 500 years, Styrofoam bins and cups that aren’t recycled will still be on our planet because the fabric can’t be damaged down by gentle, which is essential within the decomposition process. Other recommendations for processing operations are 85°C (185°F) for 15 min., or 80°C (176°F) for 20 min. The use of steam as a sanitizing course of has restricted utility. It is usually expensive in comparison with alternatives, and it is tough to regulate and monitor contact temperature and time. Further, the byproducts of steam condensation can complicate cleansing operations. The major physically-active components are the floor active compounds termed surfactants. These natural molecules have general structural characteristic the place a portion of the structure is hydrophilic (water-loving) and a portion is hydrophobic . Valentines & Big Day There’s no higher place to have fun all of life’s particular occasions. Catering service just isn't about meals solely – it is the complete means of cooking to serving. Our providers don’t follow money as we like to follow our desires to make others happy. Filling each event with great food and repair. Our providers have all the process from getting ready of meals to its delivery. Any reputable catering firm is going to have legal responsibility insurance, and if they do not, that is undoubtedly a red flag. Stir in seasonings and add an extended stem of recent basil (8-10 leaves). Reduce heat and simmer until sauce reduces and thickens . Party-size subs, chips, dip, and two-liter bottles of soda make for an unmemorable experience, and it comes throughout because the naked minimal effort. An experienced catering staff could make all of the distinction on the planet, as a result of expertise means an improved capacity to cope with adversity. If you've a household favorite, just present us with the recipe and count on enjoying it on your huge day. The occasions you host say so much about your organization. Whether you're planning a gathering, workers get together, milestone celebration or buyer appreciation occasion, we can help you make a robust, optimistic statement.
1 note · View note
raeathnos · 3 years
Text
.
#I feel like I’ve been stuck in burn out for forever#i can’t even describe the level of exhausted I am anymore#I feel like no matter how much sleep I get I’m still tired#and it always seems that no matter how tired I am that I can’t fall asleep when it’s time for bed#or if I do sleep it’s only briefly and then I lie in bed awake for hours#I feel like my diets gone to shit#I’m trying to eat healthy but there’s only so much I can do with how poor I am#my parents only want to buy junk food#it’s carbs or sugar here#I can’t tell you what I’d do for some well seasoned veggies or a tiny bit of steak#they’re not good cooks- everything is dry or bland#no money to buy what I want and I’m too tired after work to cook anyways#my back is barely healing- I have another doctors appointment tomorrow and I bet they’re going to tell me more physical therapy#I don’t think it’s helping but it’s workers comp so no one cares#I feel like I’m drawing in to myself#I feel so fragile in the state I’m in- one negative thing and I feel like I’m going to shatter#which is rough around here- I’m only ever put down anymore I feel like#don’t want to go to work don’t want to be home can’t sleep#all I want to do is run off into the forest where is calm and quiet and I can rest and hear myself think#I’m so overwhelmed and I don’t know how to deal with it#I’m halfway to my savings goal and it’s hasn’t quite been a year yet#maybe by next year this time I’ll be there and things will be looking up#right now I’m just very tired and very lost#maybe it will fade when springs melts it all away
0 notes
elvensorceress · 2 years
Text
sunrise
(the 5x03 episode coda we all deserve) 
Inspired by @eric-dierr ‘s post
on AO3
There’s finality to the sound of the door shutting behind her, but the weight of more years than he’s ever known her disappears as soon as she does. 
He can breathe again. He can relax. He doesn’t have to play a part. He doesn’t have to fake picture perfect, too-exaggerated-to-be-real happiness. He can finally take his home back. 
The irony of his disaster kitchen is not lost on him. But he starts with a message, because it needs to be said, and he hates the idea of hurting anyone. Least of all hurting someone the way Buck was hurt. 
Done. It’s over.
Is what he sends. And then goes to strip the beds and cycle the laundry and wash his whole fucking house of anything touched by her. It’s only a few minutes before he receives a response. 
it go ok? r u ok? 
He could be better. He could have a clean house and a clean mind and he could simply enjoy curling up with his son and finally spending time with him. Fixing everything has to come first. 
It was fine. Probably. Who knows. You make it home?
Once the sheets are washing, he turns to the kitchen and who does this to someone else’s kitchen and just leaves it? He digs out gallon sized ziplock bags and fills them with the assortment of muffins and other baked goods. He’ll have to make a note to himself to take them to the station on his next shift. At least he won’t have to pretend to like bland, flavorless cooking anymore. 
He checks his phone and it’s been a good ten minutes without a response, so maybe Buck decided to nap or cook or… Oh, god maybe his girlfriend is there. 
At least there’s not much of anything in Eddie’s stomach right now because it twists and he’s nauseous and of all the people Buck had to pick her and it’s just… none of his business but Buck could do so much better. He deserves so much better. Though the idea of Buck with anyone is not something he wants to think about. Not that he wants Buck to be alone forever. He’s been so lonely and Eddie knows he desperately wants to be loved. But no one is ever going to be good enough for him, no one can know him well enough or love him the way he needs, he should be adored and cherished and treated like the most precious thing in existence because he is.
And that’s the most Eddie wants to think about on the subject. 
He starts by unloading the dishwasher and then has to restart by organizing his cupboards back the way the dishes and cups and silverware are supposed to be organized. Halfway through the third cupboard, his phone chimes. 
idk. technically. what r u up to?
He reads it and rereads their whole conversation, and sighs heavily. Buck could take his own advice. But then they’d both be alone again. One of them should at least have something? He starts typing and hesitates and knows his typing must have appeared and notified Buck that he’s working on a response. But. Should he? 
Fuck it. Why not. 
Cleaning up my disaster. Want to come over? 
The response is immediate. 
Yes
It’s another moment where he can finally breathe again. In that case, he unloads the clean dishes into a mostly empty cupboard and tries to tackle the dirty dishes in the sink before Buck shows up and sees the mess made of his kitchen. 
disaster?
Is the next message that pops up on his phone and Eddie contemplates sending a picture, but some things are better left a surprise. 
You’ll see.
It takes him less than fifteen minutes to walk through the door and the kitchen is only partly under control. He hears Christopher excitedly exclaim, “Buck! Buck is home! You’re here!” 
And Buck’s near giddy reply of, “Christopher! You’re also home!” He laughs and Eddie has to see them. 
He grabs a kitchen towel to dry his hands and finds Christopher clutched tightly in Buck’s arms, melting onto his shoulder much like he did at the station a few days ago. They both have their eyes closed tightly, swaying as if there’s joyful music only they can hear. Eddie wonders what it might take for him to hear it as well. 
He swallows hard and can’t look at anything else. 
Christopher lifts up and presses both of his small hands into Buck’s cheeks. “I missed you, kid.” 
Buck laughs again but his eyes look glassy even though there’s something about him that is radiant sunshine after years of being lost in a cold night. “I missed you, too, buddy.” He sets Christopher down but bends to leave a kiss on his forehead. When he looks at Eddie with that glowing sunrise of a smile, Eddie can almost believe in hope and happiness and the future. 
It makes him want to believe real love is still possible. That there is something, someone, in existence who might make his heart want and need and bleed love in every incarnation. 
Buck lets Christopher go back to playing and follows Eddie into the kitchen. Where his expression immediately turns into something horrified. “What in the,” he glances in the direction of the other room, shuts the door and mouths quietly, “Fuck happened here?”
“I told you. Disaster.” Eddie tosses his kitchen towel onto his shoulder and returns to the kitchen sink with soaking cupcake pans. 
“But,” Buck says, supremely distressed. “My kitchen.”
“I’ve been working on it,” Eddie promises. He needs to scrub down and wash away everything. 
 “She wasn’t even here that long. What the hell did she do? Who does this and just leaves someone else’s house like this?”
Eddie shrugs but gives him a smile. He can finally smile. A real smile in his own home. It’s almost strange now, but it’s possible. Then again, it’s always real when Buck is around. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
Buck shakes his head and goes to the cupboards to finish organizing them properly. He knows better where everything is supposed to belong anyway. 
With Buck’s help, it doesn’t take long to reorganize and wipe down the entire kitchen. They put new sheets and blankets on the beds and Eddie does a quick cleaning of the bathrooms while Buck vacuums and tidies the living room. They bring the dried laundry to Christopher’s room to fold and put it away and start a load of all Eddie’s work clothes, and only then does Buck turn to him and put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. 
Eddie tries not to go weak at the touch. It feels like an eternity since they’ve hugged, since they’ve been home, since they’ve been close. 
“Thank you,” Buck says softly.
Eddie looks at him, unsure, uncertain, and longing for something they can never have. “For what?”
Buck bites his lip and tears well in his eyes. “For not being Abby. For being you.”
Eddie takes a deep breath and very lightly rests a hand on Buck’s chest. Over his heart. “Thanks for being you.” 
Buck bends his head and Eddie holds onto him, pulls him closer so Buck’s forehead rests against his own. 
It’s so easy to believe now. He can almost feel it with how they’ve grown together, built this together. There’s something so close it feels inevitable, but he knows it’s something they chose for themselves. 
When they let go, they join Christopher on the sofa and cuddle together closer than they ever have. So close Christopher wriggles out from their tight grasp because they are interrupting game time, okay? Buck looks at him for a moment but curls against Eddie’s side anyway and drifts off as they’re stretched on the couch together. 
His house his clean. His life has a new page, a fresh start, it can be anything. But he knows, no matter what, they’ll have each other and their son. It’s all his heart has ever wanted, and this time, it feels as if they will have it. 
@oneweirdcryptid @ashavahishta @captain-flint @phantomqueenmorrigan @loveyourownsmiilee @oldsouldreamer85 @arrenemris @fleurdebeton @rosefairyirl @holydrogo-n @free-byrd @insaneoldme @oatflatwhite @favouritealias @idealuk @racoonsa @ethicalconflictdiaz
(If anyone would like to be added to my tag list, let me know or go like this post 💕)
105 notes · View notes
ginjithewanderer · 3 years
Text
It’s me, back again with another essay for Tetora’s birthday, except this time I want to really look into his character and what makes him the hardworking boy Ryuseitai wouldn’t be the same without. I used a lot of stories as reference, so I put together the banners from ! events/gachas he’s in in chronological story order here, mostly for my own use (though like the wiki disclaimer says, some of it can be shaky). At the time of writing, there aren’t enough !! stories to warrant a whole timeline, nor have the ones he’s in been fully translated, but I tried to mention the parts I’ve read (either translated or in-game with my limited understanding of Japanese).
Tetora is first introduced in chapter 8 of the Enstars! main story, as a first year at the very beginning of the school year. From what we see of him in those appearances, it’s easy to dismiss him as an excitable boy with too much energy for his own good. While that hotheadedness is part of his character, there’s so much more to him than that and I feel like he’s really not given enough credit from the fandom as a whole for it. Tetora is a character who’s shown a lot of depth over the course of the Ensemble Stars story and that’s what I want to show through this.
We don’t really know much about Tetora’s childhood or family based on the currently released stories, but with the little bits of information we do have, it’s possible to piece things together to get a vague idea of what his home life is like. Tetora doesn’t come from a very rich family, and we know from multiple stories that his parents go to work early and/or work long hours as a result. Combined with the facts that he’s an only child and that he regularly gets his lunches from the school cafeteria and other meals from a konbini because his parents don’t have the time to make proper bentos/meals, it’s reasonable to conclude that he spends a lot of time alone at home.
It’s probably also because of that that he looks up to Kuro and Niki so much. In Niki’s third idol story, Tetora says that watching Niki’s show made even bland food taste delicious, but also that it saved him. While he didn’t elaborate aside from saying his parents were having a tough time with work and !! hasn’t provided any more lore yet, I interpreted that as him seeing Niki as a companion of sorts, since he was alone so much. He does also call Niki “Aniki” on instinct, and says that he feels closer to him thanks to their ways of speaking being similar (they both attach “ssu” to the ends of sentences, for example). As for Kuro, it’s mentioned in Motor Show that Tetora only got into karate because he admired Kuro, and the way he acts around Kuro in the ! main story says all it needs to on that front.
… but knowing more about that part of the main story says even more. The main story takes place after the first years have gotten into the units they applied to, and Tetora had just been rejected from Akatsuki, instead having to settle for Ryuseitai. At the time, he was pretty upset about the whole ordeal, especially since he had wanted to get into Akatsuki so badly. In fact, he spent pretty much the whole time between the start of the year and Supernova frustrated by it, only coming to terms with being in Ryuseitai by the end of the latter event. Because of that, his attitude in the main story is the first time we see him doing something he has a habit of doing — trying to put up a positive front, no matter how he’s really feeling.
Instead of wallowing in the negative emotions he felt after what happened with Akatsuki, Tetora tried to make something else work out in his favor instead: the Ryuuousen. The reason he was so excited about it, and so concerned about everything going as planned (and started panicking when Kuro showed up late), is because he was almost desperate to succeed at something after his failure with the unit he had his heart set on. In the end, though, that ended up going wrong too. The student council interrupted the match before it ended, even though he didn’t want to accept defeat, and that didn’t do his confidence any favors.
Of course, his confidence in himself wasn't really that high in the first place. Tetora has been shown throughout the Ensemble Stars story as someone who’s deeply dissatisfied with himself and takes every opportunity to belittle himself, whether it’s out loud or in his thoughts. He calls himself worthless, weak, hollow, and even goes as far as to say he hates himself in Orihime and Hikoboshi. He also tends to blame himself for anything that goes wrong when he’s around. Despite how he grows and changes himself over his time at Yumenosaki, these insecurities of his seem to stay as strong as ever. Even as a second year who got to lead Ryuseitai N and is captain of the karate club, he continues to feel like he isn’t good enough.
He’s equally quick to compare himself to other people, saying how they’re better than him in different ways. He’s open about how jealous he is of some people’s looks and sometimes other traits they have. He also uses people like Kuro or Chiaki as a standard to measure himself against, saying he can’t do things the way they can because he’s still inexperienced. With his insecurities, though, comes the way he recognizes his shortcomings. He knows what his weaknesses are and what mistakes he’s made, and he’s constantly trying to improve them — even if he doesn’t feel like he’s improved enough — to reach his ideal of becoming a “man among men”.
That goal of his is reinforced throughout the story, and he’s determined to reach it one day no matter what happens. Even when things go wrong, he tells himself that he’ll get there eventually, as long as he keeps working hard at it. He does get upset at his failures for a while and is prone to pessimism when they occur (which he acknowledges), but he always picks himself up in the end. His idea of a “man among men” isn’t really solid, though, and it really just comes down to what traits he admires in others. That includes traits like strength (both physical and emotional), kindness, honesty, and level-headedness, but also skills that are typically considered feminine, like cooking and sewing.
Part of that also comes from the fact that his concept of a man among men comes from the people he looks up to: his desire to learn to cook comes from his admiration of Niki, and his respect for things like sewing from Kuro. In fact, he even got into martial arts in the first place because he looked up to Kuro. In the same way, it was after the Beasts story that he decided he didn’t have to get rid of the parts of himself he considered “girly” or weak, and instead could convert them to strengths like those he saw in Arashi. Because he sees others as so much better than himself, he tends to admire a lot of people like this, and always tries to see the best in the people he does — even if they themselves think he shouldn’t.
It’s that devoted nature of his that manifests as determination when it comes to his goals. Whether it’s a person or an aim, Tetora gives everything his all, and it’s why he’s able to bounce back when things go wrong. He's willing to take on any number of challenges to reach his goals, and early in the ! year (like in Hero Show) even told himself it'd be pathetic to give up after minor setbacks. Similarly, his determination to have something work out in his favor is why he set up the Ryuuousen in the main story, as mentioned earlier. This persevering nature and the hard work he puts into things because of it are where his Ryuseitai introduction comes from - black flames are the mark of effort.
… Which he also thinks is his only merit, as he's stated more than once. Despite his other qualms with himself, he’s aware of his hardworking spirit and considers it his biggest strength. Tetora is someone who believes that he can achieve his goals as long as he works hard towards them, and that gives rise to his desire to be seen as responsible and independent (like by showing his seniors that he can handle things on his own). He’s even expressed how he likes when Chiaki doesn’t interfere with Ryuseitai’s activities after entrusting things to him, so that he can show some responsibility instead of being babied and having things taken care of for him.
In the same way, he got pretty upset in The Four Beasts of Fistfighting when Kuro arranged the Ryuuousen without talking to him about it, and when the former said he’d pat Tetora on the head if he won against him. Tetora hates being treated like a kid, or as someone who can’t take care of themselves. This is reiterated in several stories, too, including Beasts, where he says how he doesn’t like when Arashi refers to him using -chan, since it feels like she’s treating him like a kid. This ties in with him wanting to be seen as more mature — a man among men.
Continuing on that point, it's also why he puts up a strong front, even when he's not doing so great (Motor Show is a great example, but he's been doing this since the ! main story). He doesn't like giving up on things or appearing weak, and especially not if it means he'll be seen as someone who can't do things without outside help. Even if he's tired or upset about something, he tries to keep smiling and keep up his energetic character around others so that they won't worry about him. That applies even more when he's in charge of something, since he has a strong sense of responsibility and wants to be a capable leader.
He can put too much energy into trying to be a good leader, though, which ends up exhausting him in the !! timeline (for example, his second idol story, where he says he spent hours just thinking about how to reply to a member of Ryuseitai N in a way that didn't sound too dry). Even before then, though, he was always trying to do his best for the people around him, including things like staying calm before lives where the other two first years were nervous to try and help them relax. While he may have started off a little clumsy and tended to rush into things without thinking, by the end of the ! summer, he had already become a lot more reliable.
He also just really enjoys helping people out, saying in School Fes that he always wants to help when he sees a friend in trouble. He's always quick to offer anyone assistance, even with small tasks like moving things from one place to another. This has led other characters to say that he really is hero-like, as befitting of his status as a member of Ryuseitai. It also ties in with how empathetic he is towards others. He’s protective of his friends and has said many times (like in Sweet Halloween) that he gets upset when his friends are, and often tries to help them out or cheer them up when that happens.
There’s also the reason Ryuseitai N ended up with too many members — he didn’t want anyone to feel the way he did after his rejection from Akatsuki, and ended up making the entrance test for Ryuseitai too easy as a result. Even if it did cause the unit to struggle financially, it shows how much he took what happened to heart and how he doesn’t want people to go through anything bad, even if he had to face it himself. Similarly, he tries to take other people’s feelings and situations into account at all times — such as the time he argued with Midori in Climax but tried to be understanding of the fact that Midori was only in the idol course by accident — and doesn’t want to push his own opinions or ideals onto others either.
Tetora is a really honest and straightforward person, and doesn’t think people should hide things from each other either. This shows in the advice he gave to the Aoi twins and Tomoya in Christmas Live and Sweet Halloween respectively, though he says in the former story that he didn’t think he should be lecturing them as an outsider. More than that, though, it becomes obvious when he’s putting up a cheerful front, since a lot of the time other characters end up seeing through it. In Motor Show, it fails entirely after he accidentally let out that he was stressed in front of Chiaki, and ended up having to tell him everything.
Because of that, though, he’s also very trusting of people, and doesn’t always notice when someone doesn’t have the best intentions (à la Beasts). By the !! timeline, however, he’s gotten better with that. A clear example is his consistent distrust of Mayoi, even if the latter does give him reason to be suspicious. Then, of course, there’s Rinne, who’s the first person Tetora has openly said he dislikes. By the time of Sweets Box in autumn, he’s still annoyed by Rinne’s actions in the main story and says Rinne “pisses him off.” Despite that, he does still admit that Rinne can be open-minded when it comes to some things, which further shows his own willingness to understand other people’s situations.
With all of that said, it’s clear that Tetora is someone who does his absolute best, both for himself and others. He has a lot of energy and doesn’t like sitting around for too long, but that energy always goes to good use, whether it’s training himself or helping people out. Despite his deep-rooted insecurities about himself, he’s always striving to do better. That (along with everything else) is why I love him so much, and I hope this helps you learn a little more about him (unless there’s nothing new in here for you). There’s a lot more I would’ve liked to talk about but it’s already time to post this and I wanna finish reading some !! stories before I get into my opinions on his time as Ryuseitai’s leader (though I have a lot of thoughts on that already), but I’m really glad Tetora exists and is such a well-written character.
22 notes · View notes
kindness-bliss · 3 years
Text
New Beginnings Ch. 7
Timothy Thatcher x OC
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Tim looked over at her discreetly he witnessed her trying to open a jar and cleaned his hands on his already stained shirt “I got that for you”   “And I got this for you” she said as she went into her small closet in the living room and pulled out a flannel shirt  “It’s my dads, I don’t wanna see you in a bloody dried up t shirt as we make dinner”   He nodded quickly as he took off his shirt and unbuttoned on the one she gave him Maya blushed as she grilled her ground turkey and noticed how chiseled he was, his upper chest having the perfect amount of body hair and peaks, his biceps bulging out nicely but not overly muscular or anything like that    “It fits” Tim grinned as he showed her  “Not that bad on you” she admits with a small grin “Plaid is definitely your style, I like it on you” “I-I don’t deserve you being so nice to me” he said quietly “Maya, I won’t ever be able to stop saying sorry to you ever, know that. I’m probably gonna say sorry to you for as long as I know you”   “Tim, when’s your birthday ?” Maya asked suddenly as she looked at him “I know it’s 1983 but month ? What month ?”  “March….March 17th” he answered slowly “why ?”   “Oh my god you’re a Pisces, suddenly everything makes sense wow” she nodded as she laughed “Gosh you fit it to a T, you’re a water sign”    “What does that have to do with anything ? A water sign ? What the hell is that ?” Tim asked confused as he put his cutting board down   “It’s your sign Tim” she chuckled “Your sign is a Pisces which makes sense because they’re...well you are considered to have a sign that is known for its over sensitivity, self-pitying but also very selfless and very accepting”    “Oh” he said softly “well I guess yeah, kinda is me. My mother says it’s because I’m an only child and never got to experience things other children got at my age since I also stayed with my grandmother a lot. I think that made me highly sensitive”   “You call it highly sensitive, I call it highly aware” she grinned as she took the carrots and celery from him and added them to a pan to saute   Tim observed as sat on a stool by her “what are you making ? It looks kinda complicated honestly” “Bolognese” Maya says “Though I’m kind of cheating because I’m using sauce from a jar, but I promise it’ll be good”   “Oh” he nodded “I don’t cook much honestly, I only have ever made chicken or ham and it’s typically without seasoning. Same with my rice, I stick to bland foods for the most part. I broke my diet when we went to that Korean BBQ place” Tim said softly as he reached over and cut up onion for her    “Glad I got you to change things up for a bit, though you ghosted me and acted like a child afterwards and ruined me introducing you to better places” she giggled   “I’m gonna age myself here a bit but um, what’s ghosted ?” he asked with genuine interest as he looked down at her   “It means ignore, basically a millennial way of saying you ignored me” she answered back  “Ah I see, I like that...ghosted. I’m adding that to my vocabulary” he nodded as he repeated the word under his breath as he chopped   “Gosh he’s cute” Maya thought to herself as he stood only inches away from him, their arms basically touching as she sauteed. She made sure she stayed in close distance as she cooked looking around as silence began to take over   “Since you were a dick to me, you have to be really nice to me now like really nice” she said with a smile  “I will do whatever you want or need me to do” Tim smiled at her with his dimple popping out more “Kiss me” she whispered nervously as she looked into his eyes    “Like...like right now ?” he asked nervously “o-okay...I’m not that good at it though and my beard is gonna scratch, my lips are kinda dry too and-” he stopped blubbering when he felt her soft lips gently press onto his as she carefully put his hands on her waist as he leaned in more and placed hers on his cheeks    Maya grinned up at him afterwards as she gently wiped his lips and put ice back on his face “go sit with this on while I finish here and by the way, you’re a good kisser”  He chuckled as nodded and sat on her couch “well thank you, haven’t heard that one in like 5 years at least”. Tim sat quietly as he iced his face trying to make sense of what had just happened. Just 6 hours ago he had told her horrible things and now here was having just had a make out session in her kitchen as they cooked dinner together. Tim looked around as he picked up magazines she had on her coffee table and looked through them smiling when he realized they were all her covers or features. One in particular catching his eye, a feature in a parenting magazine where she was holding a baby on her lap.    “Last year” Maya grinned “I typically don’t do those kinds but they needed a model last minute and I happened to be in the area and went in. It was fun, kids and babies were great to work with honestly and now what I expected. That little one stole my heart, made me think I wanted my own for a bit”    “You think about kids ? Not in a weird day of course, just since like me you’re an only child” she asked “I mean yeah, sometimes” he admits quietly “Granted I really thought I was gonna stop wrestling when I was like 30 and settle down and have that white picket fence life everyone else had but clearly life has passed me by. But I’ve had some other good things in life, experiences and memories not everyone has had in life. I’m not one to complain, you ?” Tim asked as he looked at her   “Sometimes I want 1, sometimes none and other times I want like 5” Maya chuckled
“5 ?” Tim laughed “That’s a basketball team right there, Jesus that’d be feeding an army daily”   “Which is why then I think maybe not having them at all would be more beneficial” she laughed “I’ve got time to think about it thankfully, like 5 more years”   “Enjoy your youth, and your job. It’s interesting, really it is Maya” Tim says genuinely “You’ve been to some amazing places, you have experiences most won’t get and you’re only 25. It’s amazing truly”  Maya grinned at him as she fixed the ice pack on his face “I appreciate that, but your face will appreciate this ice way way more”. Damn, kissing him must’ve been the best thing she felt in ages, she could tell he wanted it just as bad as she did yet kept his usual calm demeanor. She came out of her daze as she heard her her cell phone buzz, muttering quietly as Marcel’s pet name appeared  “Dinner tomorrow is still on ?” “Yeah….but let’s meet somewhere, I think I’m ready to tell Tim the truth” Maya sighed as his name quickly appeared on her screen and declined his facetime requests and calls immediately  “Answer me please, Maya just don’t do it today please. Let’s meet tomorrow and we can figure something out...please ?” “Fine, I won’t do it tonight but I’m doing it soon, I like him a lot and I’m not gonna keep secrets from him Marcel, and neither should you. I’ll text you tomorrow morning” she sent as she put her phone on silent and set their plates up She went to the bathroom as she wiped her residue makeup off her face and put her hair up in a ponytail to fresh up, applying some perfume lightly as she looked herself over and left the bathroom    “Oh” she whispered as she saw Tim sleeping on her couch, giving soft snores as his arms were crossed on his chest. Even in his sleep he wasn’t relaxed, it kinda looked like he was just closing his eyes to her and waiting to spook her any second. She contemplated waking him up for a second and went to touch his shoulder, but instead decided to graze his cheek with the back of her hand gently, covering him up with her throw she had on the couch.  Maya shrugged as she turned on the tv and sat on the opposite end as she stuffed spoonfuls of pasta into her mouth watching Real Housewives of New Jersey, shaking her head at the stupid drama on her television shifting when she heard Tim move around and groan   “What ? What happened ?” Tim asked with a groan as he stretched “did I fall asleep here ?” “You did” she nodded “only been like an hour and a half, now please get yourself a plate and don’t bother me for the next 20 minutes because Teresa Giudice is about to cause drama at this fashion show so shhh”   He raised his brow in confusion as he stood up and served himself a plate and sat next to her going back and forth between her reactions and the tv screen in front of him “Did she just call her an old hag and a bitch ?”    “Tim shh” she put a finger to his lips absentmindedly Tim nodded quickly as he leaned back into the couch and ate, speaking up when the show was over with wide eyes “That was… a lot. Is all reality tv like this ?”  “Only the best” Maya laughed “and by the way, sorry for shushing you like that” He shrugged “I deserve more than that”  “Tim, as of tonight we drop it” she turned to look at him “Please” Maya cleaned up thinking what the hell she got herself into with him, this wasn’t in her character at all. One second she was ready to see him drop dead 8 floors to the ground and the next she was making out with him in her kitchen. This was new territory she was going into and deep down it felt right, it felt right to kiss him and feel his touch and she could feel he was feeling the same way. She turned her head , gasping as she bumped into him    “Yes ?” she whispered “Maya, I like you” Tim said “I like you a lot...and I feel like if I don’t tell you now that it’s just us here in a comfortable environment I probably won’t say it again. This isn’t like me one bit” he admits “I’ll be honest yeah I’ve had girlfriends, I dated women here and there but I never felt like this…”    “Like how ?” she asked softly  “Scared, scared that when I was with you I liked who I was for once, I felt at ease and like I didn’t need to put the harsh wrestling persona up. You didn’t care or give it much thought either or pestered me like some others had in the past. And I just wanna say-” “Tim shut the fuck up and just kiss me already” she said softly    And he did. He kissed her deeply as he moved his hands down to her hips and lifted her with ease onto her kitchen countertop feeling her hands move up and down his chest. It wasn’t just a long kiss, it was several kisses with small breaks in between to ensure they could catch their breath as their hands roamed freely all over each other's bodies. Maya unbuttoned the first 3 buttons off his shirt as she lightly traced his chest with her nails as her forehead pressed against his “we should go to my room….we don’t have to you know...have sex but we can just do more of this there comfortably”   “Okay” he nodded as he took her hand and followed her into her room, looking around at the pristine condition everything was in. A vanity organized with makeup items and skin care products he couldn’t even name, her bed perfectly made and covered in pillows, a closet the size of his bedroom with clothes in every color of the rainbow. Everything so neat and luxurious, everything he didn’t have.   She leaned up against him she kissed him again, this time with more dominance as she stumbled onto her bed on top of him, feeling his hands lightly on her lower back    Tim pulled apart from her as he rubbed his slightly red lips and pet her hair gently with his hand “I haven’t had anything like that in a while” he admitted with a small grin    “Neither have I’ she chuckled, licking her lips feeling them swell “It’s like free lip filler” “Always a comedian” Tim laughed genuinely sitting up on her bed “Jesus it’s 11 already and I gotta walk back to my car to get home, I got tapings tomorrow”   “Just stay here and I’ll take you back in the morning, it’ll be early I promise” she said softly as she gave a comforting grin “Okay, I”ll take the couch though. I’m not sleeping in your bed, this was a one time thing that I typically don’t let happen”    “What a gentleman you are” Maya said as she brought him a pillow and blanket “I’ve got all the works on my tv so feel free to watch what you like, bathroom is right next to the closet”    “Thanks, I appreciate it really” She got up in the morning as she turned off her alarm and got ready for the day, taking a peek and seeing Tim up and sitting as he watched tv making different facial expressions  “What are you watching ?” she chuckled as she walked out and turned on her Nespresso machine “Danielle is a mess, I get why you watch this trashy stuff. It’s addicting” he shook his head as he turned it off  Maya laughed as she took out two mugs from her cabinet “Well now you know and let me guess, you take your black ?” “ Yeah” He nodded as he got up and sat on a stool    “I got a shoot in like an hour so I probably won’t be able to talk to you for most of today” she said softly as she packed her bag “chances are till late late tonight”   “Oh….well um I was hoping if you’re able to, I actually have a taping tomorrow and I wanted to ask you if you would like to attend ? It’s about 2 hours, it’s fun even for someone like you who’s never been around wrestling” Never been around wrestling, after a great night she remembered the big mess she had yet to talk to him about. Marcel, shit.    “I’ll try my hardest” she responded with a grin as she drove them back to his car “Thanks again for driving me here, I appreciate it have a good shoot” he nodded as he lingered for a while leaning in slowly as he pet her cheek with his hand and kissed her “Um I think your friend over there saw us” Maya laughed softly as she pointed to an opened mouthed Oney at the gym entrance    Tim chuckled and shook his head as he got out “I’m not gonna hear the end of this one, I’ll text you later, have a good work day” he smiled softly as he walked away “Is that….you have a ?, speak up already” Oney pushed as he followed him to his car “you can’t just not tell me what’s going on after kissing someone like THAT” He turned around as he got out his gym bag “excuse me ? what do you mean like that ? what’s with the emphasis on the end there ?”    Oney shook his head as he gave a scoff “Do you have any idea who that is ? What kind of work she does ?”
  “Uh yeah she’s a mode” Tim nodded as they walked inside “I’ve seen her stuff, she showed me and talked to me all about it”
“I can’t believe you’re dating a model man, you of all people. No offense of course but I mean I never pictured you even dating someone at all”
Tim raised a brow “I’m that bad of a catch huh ? Gee I feel great now that you’ve given me this amazing pep talk, feeling like I can conquer the world now” he answered sarcastically stretching
  “How old is she ?” Oney asked “because there’s no way she’s older than 30”
“25….” he said softly “she’s 25, just turned 25 actually about 2 months ago”
“WHAT ?” Oney said as he spit out his water “No fucking way, you’re dating a 25 year old ?”
  “Would you stop, we’re not dating…….we’re friends that’s all” he answered as he began his cardio
  “Oh yeah because you totally suck face with a friend before leaving right ?” Oney chuckled “You’re in deep, you did the cheek grab and the little linger after you kiss” “Well maybe I like her, friends right now but who knows maybe after she comes to the show might change” he gave a smile “I invited her and she said she’ll come” “Who are you and what have you done to my friend ?” Oney asked with a raised brow “Because you are not the Tim I know” “Let’s just say maybe I wanna enjoy life a bit more” He shrugged “and I’m starting with her, she likes me. I like her, there’s nothing that can go wrong” Nothing right ?
10 notes · View notes
Text
Our Nightly Confidant 6
Live up to your own Legend
The pink has largely faded from his hair and Legend is ready to put that humiliation behind him.
He is.
But the problem with sharing your secrets with others is they constantly remind you that they know. Oh, they are subtle about it. For all that Sky and Twilight are earnest and open, they can both clam up with the least social of them.
A smirk stretches his lips as, despite himself, Legend recalls the 'incident' if it could be called that.
The whole group was there, sitting by the campfire, digging into one of Wild's stew. The blend of herbs, potatoes and meat had been one of those hearty dishes for calm evenings after a weary day of traveling. It was quite tasty, and Legend was content to fill his stomach with hot food. It was more than he had been able to do on many, many evenings during his adventuring days.
It had just so happened that some of the others agreed, and were much less silent in their enjoyment.
“Man, Tetra wishes we could eat that well on the sea,” Wind said, waving his spoon around without a care for the splashes of sauce. To be fair, neither Hyrule or Wild seemed to be bothered either.
“Yeah, it's great, Wild,” Hyrule agreed. “What is it?”
“Rabbit.”
Sky's mouthful sprayed out of his mouth in a dramatic cloud of sauce and half-chewed meat. And because someone upstairs had decided that Legend had suffered enough, the person sitting directly in front of Sky at the time had been Warriors.
The ensuing chaos had given Legend time for his stomach to settle, and he suddenly had the answer to a question he had never meant to ask, but he would, indeed, have made a delicious meal if the monsters of the corrupted Sacred Realm had ever caught him. It truly was just like Wild to provide that kind of answer to Life's hidden (and for good reasons) secrets.
The Goddesses love a good joke at their heroes' expenses, didn't they?
Yet, the worst part might just have been what he had realized afterward. Twilight, chillingly, hadn't reacted much beyond a chuckle at Sky's reaction and a pat on the back to a confused Wild. He'd also finished his bowl despite the incident happening before he had.
Legend wishes he knew how to feel about that. Even today, he has mixed feelings on Twilight's non-reaction. Above all things, he is not a rabbit and the rancher is not a wolf. That's the reflection of their inner light when shrouded in shadows of dark magic. It's a curse. Twilight can make use of a curse all he wants (he can't judge, what's with Ravio's bracelet), so long as he doesn't let that shadow crystal near him again.
Unfortunately, he can't exactly put it out of his mind when Sky took him aside during the morning and apologized, both for the scene and, well, you know. Sky, sweetheart that he is, mentioned that he told Wild some tall tale about it being sacred in Skyloft or something. Wild would try and avoid rabbit meat from now on.
Legend's words of gratitude come out through a curtain of heavy rain to his own ears, it feels like. The consideration is more than he knows what to do with. And... and part of him wasn't even asking for it. Heroes must stand on their own two feet.
So, yes, perhaps he is a bit more cautious than usual when traveling near Twilight or Sky today. Maybe he does slide over to the corners of their battle formations away from those two. He needs time to think, and he's no moron. He's not gonna let that affect his performance in battle in the slightest.
In fact, he was the one to land the killing blow on the hinox. Ice rods to freeze its feet, followed by a jumping great spin. Warriors lets out a low whistle upon witnessing it.
Legend's bow is only mildly sarcastic. That was damn fine fighting, if he says so himself.
They made progress today, and are nearing their objective, one of Wild's shrines. One covered in the darkness of a moonless, starless night at all times. But they do need to clean their scraps and maybe heal that concussion. Nasty hit, but Hyrule's is firm: Wild will be good as new after a few rounds of healing magic and a fairy. Which, for once, they have to spare.
Food, on the other hand...
“I've got some salted jerky,” Twilight offers.
“Ooooh,” Warriors feigns enthusiasm. “And with my goron bread and Hyrule's salted cheese, that'll be sure to finish the job.”
Hyrule's hands, which had been illuminated with the Life spell signature, twitch. “Hey! What's wrong with my salted cheese?”
There is hesitation, most of all from Legend, and then Four takes the dive. “It could give a family of plague-spreading rats a run for its rupees.”
Sad, but fair. Hyrule's cheese is a testament to his cooking as a whole. It might be edible, but Nayru herself wondered how.
Hyrule's back hunches a bit before he straightens and turns away from the other with a huff.
Legend's hands hover uselessly at his sides. He ought to say something. He wants to say something. Except he's not gonna lie and say the cheese is okay, because even Ravio wouldn't try to sell it. And then his chance is lost.
Time steps in. Strides right in the middle of the group, massaging his sore shoulder and running a hand through Hyrule's hair as he passes him by. “Alright, you've had your fun, but we do need to decide on a course of action for our next few meals. There's still plenty of mushrooms and fruits in Wild's slate.”
Sky offers himself. “I can whip up something. It won't be great, but it'll be filling.”
“Okay, but we can hunt too, can't we?” Wind jumps in. “Like, we're not in a malice-infested area or anything. I know I saw a couple of goats and deers earlier on the road.”
His stomach takes that moment to growl. And his mind wanders back to Wild's previous meal last night. His mouth even waters, before he remembers everything else about the stew and there goes his appetite.
“We've got plenty already,” Twilight says.
“Yeah...” Four gives him the side eye. “No offense Sky, but it'll be bland enough without some meat.”
It's one of those truly bizarre quirks. And Legend gets it. He hasn't survived this long without being able to understand different people. There's a... well, not certainty, but an assurance when it comes to food security and times of peace. He gets that farmers have dry years, chu-chu infestations and the likes, but Legend's known all his life to never pass up an opportunity for food, and he sees it even more pronounced in Hyrule.
It's their damned timeline. The whole thing is doomed to die.
“Let's skip another radish failure, shall we?” Legend snarks. It's only a fraction of the resentment in him, but it helps settle his heartbeat.
“I think you're outvoted, pup.”
A look of annoyance crosses Twilight's face, but he holds his tongue. Another way we are nothing alike, Legend thinks.
“We need people to forage, hunt and make camp. And look over the wild cub.” And so Time begins to pair them off, balancing them between skills and health. It's all fine and dandy, until the Old Man looks at him and Twilight, deadpan, and shrugs. “I've got a good feeling about the two of you working together.”
Sometimes, Legend just really wants to deck Time. He's certain others share this feeling. Even Twilight, for all he plays the dutiful son's part.
“Alright,” Twilight says, patting him on the back as he leads the way outside the camp. “Let's do this. Can't let Pretty Boy show us up, can we?”
Legend snorts. So, maybe they share one or two traits. But he's willing to chalk that up more to Warriors being ungodly annoying at times.
“Not gonna throw off my aim, are you?” Legend jeers. It's meant as a tease, but it comes off harsher than he meant.
Typical.
What isn't is the way Twilight just shrugs, his wolf pelts like a wave of black fur. Legend's not blind. He knows his sharp tongue used to burn Twilight's fuse. At some point though, when he wasn't looking, the whole thing had been replaced, longer and shinier than ever before.
And the way Twilight grins at him has the sort of familiarity he thought was only deserved by the likes of Time or Wild.
“You didn't forget where I grew up, didya? What do you think we do with goats exactly?”
The hook's too good not to bite. And, Ravio does say he has sharp teeth. “You'd wash my mouth with soap if I told you the truth.”
And there it is, the tick and twitch of Twilight's ears. Warriors is the only one that constantly manages to bring it out. But, well, Legend aims for greatness, doesn't he?
“Tch, ain't ever seen a Gordonian Oat up close, have you?”
In two strides, Twilight has broken the gap between them.
“For starters, they're tall.” Another step closer. “Grow up about the size of Epona. But less even tempered.”
Legend stares, resisting the urge to back down as he realizes that Twilight towers over him, and at this angle, the setting sun cast his face in shadows.
“Hu-uh.”
“More importantly, they've got horns,” he says, putting his hands up in some poor imitation of the real thing. “Can knock down a man charging. And they will. Males have a foul temper.”
Then, as if nothing happened, Twilight pulls back and knocks his bow over his shoulder.
“Besides, it's needless hunting that gets my goat.” – Legend snorts despite himself and subsequently hides away from Twilight's grin. – “I could never resist one of the Cub's meat skewers.”
Is it him, or are Twilight's teeth a bit sharper than a Hylian's should be?
“I don't think you can resist any of his cooking,” Legend snarks, smacking Twilight's stomach. “Guess you gotta fuel those muscles of yours with something, huh?”
Said big and strong hero proceeds to pout. “Like you're any better.”
Legend shrugs. “Never refuse a meal you don't think is poisoned, is my motto.”
There's the beginning of a frown, but Legend is not up for that.
“Come on, I'm not letting Pretty Boy outdo us.”
Twilight hesitates, then shakes his head and starts forward. “Do aim for the throats, if you can. I'd rather not deal with the screams.”
The screams.
Legend falters then accelerates to catch up. Screams.
Animals don't... they'll thrash, struggle, make noise, but it wasn't...
The thought lingers well into their travel, when they've passed the turn of the road and shadows burst out of Twilight's necklace.
Wolfie bounds into the undergrowth, his dark tail vanishing behind some leaves.
                                                     ***
The first prey they come across must be a rabbit.
A shy thing gnawing on leaves in the grass. Crouched low and near invisible in the dale with its brown coat. But Wolfie's senses detected it with ease. With that help, Legend sees it too.
The arrow is held tight in his hand, notched but not quite ready to fly.
Twilight glances back.
Sky would take the hard decision out of his hands and chase off the rabbit.
Twilight waits for him to choose. No matter which, Twilight'll go all the way.
They're both considerate in their own ways.
It makes Legend want to curl up in shame. To be able to at least pick how he wants to treat that secret. But he doesn't know. He spent years not thinking about it, and surprise, that did not prepare him anymore for when it blew up in the open.
Zelda would scream the mother of all 'I told you so' if she ever caught wind of this. Which is why he'll spend a lot of time ensuring he never does.
Which is another way of saying he'll run away from his problem.
Shy, nervous thing.
One cracked twig has the rabbit tense up, then scamper back into its den.
Legend lifts his foot from the twig and glares.
“You good?” Twilight asks as he emerges from shadows.
“Yeah, yeah,” Legend snips. “We had rabbit yesterday. And it's hard to hit the throat of the little buggers.”
Twilight nods sagely like that wasn't pure bullshit. “Fair enough.”
By the Goddesses, Legend must be ill because he suddenly hates the idea of getting away with it. “You know you can call me out, don't you?”
“Don't really see the need to force you to talk. Either you do or you don't. It's not like I know what you should be saying anyway.”
Well, there goes one of his hopes. Twilight looks and acts so comfortable in his skin (both of them) that Legend is a bit jealous.
“Well... what's it like, being a wolf?”
Twilight turns his head to the sun disappearing between the hills. To the darkness seeping into the sky. His gaze looks miles away from him.
“Dangerous.”
Funny, Legend would have said the same of being a rabbit, but, he suspects, for different reasons.
“Wolves aren't loved. And there's a good reason for that. They're powerful beasts with powerful senses. Sometimes, I find myself sniffing for scents I couldn't possibly catch as a Hylian. Thinking of sinking my teeth into something. You wouldn't believe the meat cravings I get sometimes. Farore, the faces my ma made the first few meals we had together after I got back.” A faint chuckle. “It's a good thing Ordon's not just harvesting wheat, 'cause I would be a miserable man in there.”
What do you think we do with goats exactly? Raise them, protect them.
Eat them.  
“Still better than turning into prey.”
Twilight's smile is smaller, but it feels more real. “Yeah, maybe, but if you ever reflect what you are on the inside, then you'll be soft, cuddly... loved.”
Legend hears everything his brother doesn't say. What would happen to Twilight if he ever let loose completely? If he gave in to his inner self?
He has a feeling his brother knows. That he felt it already.
For a second, he thinks to place a hand on Twilight's shoulder, but... he can't quite bring himself to do it.
“... Want to get back to it?” Twilight hints at the trails he was following as a wolf. “We still haven't caught anything, and I can hear Wind's accusation from here.”
Yeah, he can too. The sailor would ask him if Twilight was being a sore loser, and the others might believe it. Legend might have done that in Twilight's shoes. He's spiteful like that. Nothing like a bunny.
Twilight clutches his necklace and goes down on four legs again. No hesitation to it.
One of them embraces the shadows, the other flinches at them, and now he wonders if they aren't both stupid.
The animals they come across next are the slow grazers, the desperately hungry or the uncautious. Those that thrive in dusk, right before the nocturnal critters make the fields and woods their own.
They hunt in a silence filled with cacophonous thoughts. It doesn't affect Legend's aim. He could strike an enemy sleepwalking at this point.
And true to his word, Legend did shoot the deer dead in one hit. No struggling. No... screams.
He's about finished butchering most of it and filling his inventory with carefully wrapped pieces when Twilight comes back from his circling watch (monsters are always a concern). Judging by the bit of dark blood on Wolfie's collar, it was a successful scouting trip.
The excuse was often bullshit, but it never meant Twilight was leaving them to dry. It's a comforting thought. He's always taken a big brother role to them the way the Old Man slips between commander and father to a bunch of bokoblins.
“Hyrule talks, you know?” Legend says, softly.
Twilight plops down next to Legend's bags and makes a curious 'bork'.
“He showed me his new collection.” Legend recalls the mile-a-minute explanation, and how warm his successor's happiness had made him feel. “It was like you hung the stars in the sky. Thank you.”
There's a big dog-like grin on Wolfie's face. It's too similar to the one on his Hylian face for anyone with a brain not to link the two together. Twilight's always wearing it when he pulls Wild up, when he gives Wind a piggyback ride (and the sailor calls him a trusty steed with the thickest pirate accent Legend has ever heard). It's his grin for little siblings he's so proud of.
“How do you do it?”
Twilight tilts his head to the side, like he doesn't instantly get the question. (Maybe he doesn't, whispers a small part of Legend, maybe it's natural and it's only him that struggles with connecting to his fellow heroes.)
The words don't want to come, but he's a Chosen of Courage. He never could back down from anything.
“The big brother act,” he says. “Hyrule. I don't know what to do with him. How to be around him. I like him, he's more tolerable than most of you meddling bastards.” – A look of offense crosses the wolf's face, and it's properly ridiculous. – “He's sweet, earnest, resourceful, heck, he even has manners despite growing up in a cave! What does he see in me?”
Twilight moves a paw over the middle of Legend's chest.
But he doesn't think that's right. It can't be that.
“I... I don't get why he chose me to admire. Sure, I'm the sucker that went on the most quests, but he's gone on two himself. It can't be my charming personality. I'm a stubborn jackass who doesn't know when to quit and that cuts just as much with my wit as with my arsenal. Is it just... being his predecessor?”
A crossed look passes over Twilight's face. His ears go flat on the sides of his head, his eyes narrowing. It's a little silly, knowing Twilight, but there's also that familiar pang of fear that helps Legend survive so many quests.
His instincts prove their worth when Twilight lunges and knocks him to the ground quick enough that Legend only realizes what happened a second later.
“What the-? Get off, Farmer.”
He could. And Twilight knows he could. Twilight's just relying on the knowledge that Legend won't.
Legend resigns himself to a moment of lying on his back with a fifty tons wolf crushing him to tiny pieces. That's it, that's the only reason he doesn't whip up his high-level strength bracelets to throw off the overly affectionate wolf on top of him.
Even if he has to fake the annoyance.
“Urgh, you stubborn a-” he doesn't complete the thought.
It's like an electrified chu-chu ramming into him.
By now, every one of them has seen Wolfie wrangle Wild around the camp at least once. Has been witness to their unorthodox brother sighing and huffing about his mentor forcing him into rest. Grumbling something about hard-headed mother cuccos and joykillers.
And the next day, the two of them grinning at each other over the battlefield. Wild seeking approval like he hadn't pulled his tongue at the rancher earlier.
“... That's not the same thing.”
Wolves don't have the right to look this fucking smug.
That manipulative goat-minder!
“It's not!” Legend protests, even knowing that, yes, it is indeed the same thing.
Words unspoken drift between them from the force of Twilight's gaze. Self-deprecating things, faults and flaws and fights, the sort of things Legend cringes at the thought of, but has to acknowledge. Wild admires Twilight, and it's not a matter of perfection.
Being smushed under a wolf has a way of making you accept that, no, that brother of yours isn't that great a person.
“Even so... ”
The rumble is a question.
“That doesn't tell me how to do it.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you mean to tell me I should sit on Hyrule until he feels the love.”
A laughing bark.
Legend smirks to himself. “Yeah, didn't think so.”
And a distant, experienced and – maybe too – cynical part of him starts to understand what Twilight is doing. Why he is not shifting back to Hylian form. Even knowing the truth, knowing that the sacred beast is his dull, dutiful brother does not get through to his subconscious. Knowledge does not weigh as much as the wolf splayed over him, does not warm him the way the mantle of soft fur does. He can't build up his walls fast enough. No, not quite. He can't bring himself to build his walls fast enough.
He missed this. Someone to watch over his shoulder, someone safe, that'd step in so that Legend wouldn't be needed.
He believes in no goddess, be they the Three, whom he knows are the object of his Princess' devotion, or even that Hylia that Sky mentions sometimes. He's long since gotten into the habits of cursing the Heavens, whoever resides there. It was only fair, after they cursed him with the world.
With the Windfish.
But just this once, being protected and smothered in ways that remind him of stormy nights when his uncle was still alive. The sort of stubborn strength that held in the face of the night, of monsters. Everything.
Twilight, Legend realizes, has a mind like a bear trap. Unassuming until it springs. Then, it never lets go.
Stubborn. He hates the part of him that likes it.
“We're not the same,” he hisses.
Because Twilight's friendly, personable, easy to talk to. Because Twilight is one of those bastards that's hard to hate no matter what he does. That wins you back with a couple of words and a steady hand during a difficult time.
Legend would sooner stab you once and be done with those messes.
And Wolfie's blue eyes are this shade of cloudless sky, clear, so frank. It's impossible not to see how Twilight doesn't believe him.
Legend's heart comes ablaze.
“None of your decisions have doomed a world!”
The wolf in Twilight whines. A low, pitiful noise.
“That's how I lost her. By destroying her world and everyone that lived in it.”
Twilight nuzzles him, something a bit desperate to the force of it.
Near misses, he thinks. It worked out. But some part of Twilight probably thinks it shouldn't have. Legend knows that madness. That jump of faith through the insane traps of ancient temples and half-baked schemes in the middle of a boss fight.
Near misses, they don't count, but they're the last steps before the cliff opens up below you.
And Legend has been falling for a long time.
Telling Zelda was a second's respite clinging to an unexpected root pooking out of the earth and rock.
Now he's found another.
He's strangely not bitter that he was the only one to go through this. To triumph in the destruction of a whole island. The closest to experiencing failure on that scale would have to be Wild, who was neither subtle nor all that quiet about his conviction in his perceived flaws.
And this must be what he receives when the feelings overwhelm him, when he needs the wolf instead of any of them. Quiet, unwavering support.
The lack of words coming from Twilight is half the healing balm.
Legend's not looking for words at all. Not some magic words that'll make the turmoil die out at any rates.
He couldn't bear to hear a platitude. To hear any variation of 'it's okay' or 'it was not your fault'. It was. It had been his decision in the end. The choice sucked, but he picked one anyway. Because he is the Hero.
There had been no one else. Just him.
“What's my next decision going to bring?”
The warmth and fur shifts over his body, but still Twilight doesn't talk. With the tighter, smaller posture against his chest, Legend would guess he feels some guilt over forcing that confession out of him. It's worth a grimace, maybe, but he is too tired to give a fuck.
Legend takes a moment just staring upward. He's forgotten which Hyrule this is, how far from home he is. But the stars haven't changed. He'll bet good rupees that the constellations are nothing alike between one kingdom and the next.
He points to a cluster of lights. “That's the 'Fairy Spring'. And right next to it, 'The Raging Lynel'.”
Twilight makes a noise like a noble being shown a peasant. Oh, he must never say that outloud for fear of being punched with those moblin arms of his. Though, he had thought Twilight didn't have lynels in his era, the lucky bastard.
More names come to him. None of which trigger recognition in Twilight, but his brother listens all the same, attentive, patient. This is nice. Better.
His eyelids start threatening to droop.
A gentle, concerned whine ring to his ears, and a paw scratches his tunic.
Right. Right, they are too far from camp for him to nap. It's already a long walk, for a Hylian.
Legend suppresses the pang of envy in his chest at Twilight's cursed form. He shouldn't! But what does it say about him, the boy grown in a world always threatened by dark forces, when his inner self is a harmless bunny? What does it say about Twilight, grown through an era of peace, when his inner self is a dangerous predator?  
The successors of the Hero of Time, ladies and gentlemen!
The real shame, though, is probably that he misses that softness.
I used to love saving people... he thinks, and only notices the tear when Wolfie nuzzles him.
He knows there and then that their earlier conversation was wrong. Even if Twilight lost himself in the shadows, there'd still be something to love about him. Because Wolfie is a beast, but the others aren't wrong when they call him a gift of the Goddesses.
“Urgh, don't try and be physically affectionate with me,” he says, pushing off the cold nose.
What about me? Is there anything loveable about me, besides saving a couple of countries?
Would Uncle still be proud? Would she be able to love me as I am now?
“Why am I like this?” he asks, and is grateful for the silence.
The answer, he's known for some time.
It's when I realized no one would save me. When it comes to saving the world, I'm it. No second chances. No one to pick up the torch. If I fail, that's it. There's only me.
Wolfie's soft barks bring him out of his head, and pull a smirk out of him. He deliberately ruffles his brother's head, rough, because it wouldn't do to have him think he's gone soft that easily.
But his fear just isn't true anymore.
Twilight would save him. Hyrule would. Sky would. Any of the others would. And he'd jump in front of a sword for them just as easily.
He hasn't let down the walls long enough to
… Maybe he could try.
Leaves suddenly rustle and bushes part to let another Hylian through.
“Legend?” Hyrule's eyes flicker to the tear tracks on his face. “... This isn't the direction we saw that river, is it?”
Legend sighs and pushes Twilight off. “You're off by thirty degrees.”
Red blooms across Hyrule's cheeks, his gaze lowering to the ground.
Damn it! He isn't prepared for this! If he had just a minute to gather his wits beforehand...
“Why didn't you tell me he was coming?!” Legend hisses, resisting the urge to smack Twilight on the nose.
He prefers his fingers unnipped, thank you very much.
“Are you okay?” Hyrule asks, fidgeting. “Weren't you with Twilight?”
“Oh, huh, he went scouting ahead.” Farore! Now the rancher's stupid excuses were infecting him. Why was he the one to share that secret?
Hyrule nods. “Ah, makes sense.”
Some crows above caw.
It's the only noise in the woods.
Legend stumbles when Twilight headbutts his rear end. “Oi!” he says, turning a threatening glare at his idiot brother.
“Oh, hey Wolfie,” Hyrule says with a timid wave.
Right. Hyrule's most frequent experiences with Twilight's beast forms revolve around him being herded back to camp after another ill-fated self-appointed scouting mission. Worse when the Champion got involved and the two got into their heads to have an adventure whilst on a supply run.
Got to have fun...
He glances between Hyrule, trying to look steady in front of him, and Twilight, who is staring back at him intently.
“You don't need to be so nervous, you know?” he hears himself say.
Hyrule blinks in surprise, as does Twilight. But, well, Legend committed. He might as well go all in.
He lands a hand in the scruff of Twilight's neck, scratching through the fur. “He's a big softie.”
That would normally get him a warning growl or a painless bite. Except Twilight can't very well protest and undo all his hard work over petty jealousy, can he?
“Come on,” he tells Hyrule. “If he gets snippy, I'll bonk him on the head whilst you make your daring escape.”
“I wouldn't run!” Hyrule says, hotly. “I mean, I don't know if Life works on wolves, but I'd have to try, knowing your strength bracelets.”
It startles a laugh out of him. There's their wanderer. Ready to get in the thick of it with a sword or a spell. That's the man that'll succeed him. That's the man he has the luck to meet. And teach.
“Interesting question. It sounds like something we should test in a safe environment.”
And he jumps to the side, avoiding the fangs aiming for his buttocks. So predictable!
“Oh dear, he's gone feral!” he croons, clicking his heels to activate the pegasus boots. “No two ways about it, time to book it.”
“Wait, what?” Hyrule, the poor man, has no time to register the turn of events that Legend grabs him by the sleeves and starts to drag him away from a barking wolf.
“By the way, have I told you about that time I escaped from a pair of lynels on top of Death Mountain?”
“No!” Hyrule shouts, wide-eyed with both awe and a little fear. “Is that really the time?”
He skids to a halt just in time to avoid a blitzing Twilight bursting out of a bush. The barking rings to his ears. His heartbeat has picked up from the thrill, and he knows he will win this.
“Feels nostalgic for some reason!”
“Talk away then! Oh, and jump!”
Hyrule's hand pulls him upward, makes him weightless as if he'd done his magic cape. They launch into the air, and scramble up on the higher branches of a large oak tree. He's chuckling, a little awed by Hyrule's arsenal of spells.
And then Twilight lands on the branch next to them, hackles raised and honestly a little scary. The wood winces ominously, shakes, but holds.
“Wolves can't do that!” he yells.
“I don't think he cares, Legend!” Hyrule hops to the next tree.
And Legend stops thinking about his next move. He follows, he lets his instinct and experience guide him into this impromptu chase game. Marvels at Hyrule's tricks sometimes, preens when his gets Twilight to crash into a boar that only mildly appreciated the tackle and gets to tell the entire story on the way back to camp.
He's got a skip to his steps. He won. They both know he won this time and nothing will change that.
But, just in case, Legend will sleep with one eye open. He's seen Time's and Wild's pranks so far. And in that chain of Heroes, Twilight is both the apprentice and the master. There's no way Twilight isn't capable of their very worst.
64 notes · View notes
pippims · 3 years
Text
but the memories come home
1326 words, very soft and fluffy zoyalina! written for grishaverse sapphic saturdays week 1
Zoya isn't sentimental. But she can't stop staring at Alina under the moonlight and thinking about how much she's missed her. Or; post-canon, Zoya sneaks to Kermazin to visit Alina and Mal.
[ao3]
Zoya had always aligned herself with the moon than the sun. Maybe that was a remnant of the Darkling’s influence, or maybe it was the result of spending nights curled up in a thin wedding gown and staring up at the moon because it was so cold that she felt she’d never sleep. Either way, she’d always thought there was something magical about the full moon.
And this full moon was particularly potent.
There’s an early-fall chill in the air, enough to deepen the boozy tinge on Alina’s cheeks but not enough to be uncomfortable. Around them, frogs and insects scream a bizarre background melody, but after being holed up in the Grand Palace for weeks Zoya finds it vaguely comforting. A reminder of … not better days, not by any mean, but simpler days. She isn’t sure what, but there’s something soothing about laying on her back, staring up at the moon, mind drifting but not lingering on any one thought.
“Sometimes if I need to get away I come out here,” Alina says. Her eyes are closed and her arm is draped over her chest, almost as if she’s asleep. “I like to look at the stars and try to identify them, see if I can find the same ones. I can’t, but I’m still trying.”
It was Zoya’s first visit since Alina’s death. Genya had tailored her to look enough like herself to be familiar, but unlike herself enough that any normal person wouldn’t see Zoya Nazyalensky.   They’d been writing letters, but somehow it just wasn’t enough. Maybe it was the energy from the war that had never quite dissipated, or maybe Zoya just missed her. Either way, she’d decided to go against Nikolai’s wishes and sneak a covert visit.
The three of them had had a very pleasant dinner, for the most part - Mal was really trying to learn how to cook anything fancier than roasted meat, and had done his best to prepare some sort of stuffed rabbit dish with various greens. He hadn’t realized that the recipe book he’d purchased from an elderly woman was ancient, smudged, and half written in Fjerdan. The result was a meal that was somehow both too bland and filled with too many contrasting flavors, but at least the meat was cooked well. But they’d washed it down with lots of laughs and lots of the champagne that Zoya had brought, and then her and Alina had wandered into the woods for some quiet time.
Alina turns her head to look at Zoya, who looks over at her in turn. “How’s the future of Ravka?”
“A dumbass,” she replies, and Alina laughs, the sound echoing off of the trees around them. “Doing his best, but a dumbass.” She neglects to mention the lingering curses. There’s no need to worry her, not after everything she’d gone through. She was dead and free of the Darkling. Besides, this was a friendly visit. Serious business could wait. “How’s retirement?”
Alina snorts. “Quiet. I’ve started drawing, but I’m terrible. I tried to make some bread yesterday, but it didn’t rise. Ended up feeding it to the birds.”
She looks happier  , Zoya thinks. She’s radiant, and not just from the champagne, and not in the frightening way she’d been when using her powers. She looks like a girl, a bit tired, but glowing against the moonlight. Or maybe glowing  from  the moonlight?  She looks just as good in the moonlight as she does in the sunlght , she thinks, but then banishes the thought. “And your retirement partner?”
She doesn’t respond immediately, and instead she turns her head back to the sky. Her eyes drift shut again, and Zoya can’t help but stare at the way the wind slightly ruffles her white hair as it’s fanned out against the grass. Eventually, Alina says, “I don’t know. It’s weird?”
“Weird?” Zoya pulls herself up onto her elbow, brow furrowed. “Is he being weird? Is it a man thing?”
Alina shakes her head. “No, no, not at all. I don’t know. We tried the romance thing, and it was nice, but it was weird. Like I love him, and I know that, and he knows that, but it just didn’t feel right. I think… Hear me out, but I think it was like what it would feel like to kiss my brother, you know?”
Zoya wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”
“You don’t need to tell me that!”
Zoya opens her mouth to respond, but she feels something small and damp hit her cheek get into her mouth. She spits into her hand what tastes like... grass? “Hey!” She rips up a handful and throws it at Alina, who throws more at her in turn. Alina rolls away, but Zoya summons a small gust of wind to target a burst of grass to Alina’s neck. They carry on, throwing and running around the clearing until Alina slips in a small patch of mud, landing sprawled out on her back.
By the time they’re done, they’re laughing hard enough that their ribs hurt, and Alina’s white hair is flecked with green. “I think I needed that,” Zoya confesses, and she certainly feels lighter than she has since the war began.
“I think I did too,” Alina says, and the smile lingers on her face. “I’m trying to relax, but I don’t know what to do all of the time? My time has never just been my own.”
“Some of us have real problems, and you’re complaining that you’re  bored  after  saving the world ?” Zoya says with a grin, and that gets another chuckle from Alina. “You’re always welcome to help me wrangle the royal nuisance.”
“And spend time with you?  Never ,” she responds, then reaches to brush a strand of grass out of Zoya’s hair. Her hand hesitates, just briefly, inches from Zoya’s ear, but she continues the motion. “No, but I think I want this. I miss you though.”
“I miss you too,” Zoya says, “And I…”  Say it, Nazyalensky,  she thinks,  You’ve never had a hard time voicing your thoughts before . But this is different. It’s not a random Second Army boy or girl that she found attractive and, because she was Zoya Nazyalensky, they’d kiss her back because she was the best and brightest. It’s Alina, Sun Summoner, someone she was horrible to but who eventually forgave her, one of her closest friends. And she’s been staring at her lips all night, and suddenly she’s a little bit too tipsy on laughter and champagne, and her heart feels like it’s about to burst from her chest. “And I kind of want to kiss you?”
Alina’s eyes flutter, and she fingers the seam of her skirt. For a moment Zoya thinks she’s steeling herself to say no, or to run, but then she turns her head to the side and captures her lips.
Kissing Alina feels like summoning a massive storm, the energy from the lightning running straight through her. Her lips are dry and her breath smells of old champagne, but Zoya is electrified. It’s never felt like this before, not when she’d kissed Genya once while very drunk, not when she’d kissed Mal, not when the Darkling had said he was proud of her and kissed her. She’s never felt so excited and yet at ease. As if she’s  home , a concept she hasn’t considered for years, laying on her back in a clearing and kissing a saint. When she pulls away, Alina’s eyes are half-closed and that small smile remains on her lips.
“We should go back before Mal thinks a hunter mistook us for deer,” she says, hefting herself off of the ground with some difficulty, brushing the worst of the mud off of her skirt. When she gets to her feet, she turns to Zoya, offers a hand, and says, “And we should do that again sometime.”
Zoya stands, kisses her forehead, and they walk together hand-in-hand under the moonlight.
( @wafflesandkruge ; @grishatober )
35 notes · View notes
they-callme-ami · 3 years
Text
Double Dutch. (aka the drunk! Elijah, Aurora, black!MC and Tobias fic)
Note: This story uses lots of AAVE (African American Vernacular English) and is mostly intended for a black audience--you can still read for funsies or whatever, but I better not hear some shit about it not being inclusive or using 'improper grammar'.
Tags: @what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @tyrils-star @melaninnntae @indescribablybre @prism-goddess
It started innocently enough: you were helping Aurora wrap her hair, pinning it up and tying the scarf around it.  Elijah rolled into the living room in his pajamas. You three were the only ones at home since you three had worked later than Jackie, Bryce and Sienna and didn’t feel like going out that night.  But y’all weren’t opposed to chillin and talkin’ shit. 
It had been a long ass day. Ethan was getting on every damn nerve you had, either talking about his mom and their strained relationship or bugging you about your cases. The man just did not leave you alone, and normally it was cool--but today he needed to back the fuck up and stop talkin shit about Tobias. It was gettin old. Not only that, but you had your own intern to deal with--which is what you were going on about now.
“I’m telling you Elijah--I love Esme but that girl is too fuckin much!  She always stay talkin back to the other attendings, nearly started a fight with another intern, and even when she asks for my advice she don’t listen! Thinkin she know everything….fuckin stubborn headass..” You sigh while twisting your hair.  
“Uh-huh. Sounds like a familiar head-ass doctor I know.  You were on trial last year, stoopid!  I know your ass not talkin bout Esme.  She’s a breeze compared to Sothy… he barely knows how to do anythin--it's a damn miracle he graduated y’know.”
“And who’s fault is that Elijah--oh, excuse me, Oracle.”  Aurora smirked and laughed as Elijah could only sit there, ultimately taking the L.
As y’all were about to go in on each other, there was a knock at the door.
“Oh! Finally, must be the package I ordered.  I hope y’all are ready to see me strut the halls in my new---”  You open the door, only to see Tobias there in some sweats with some take out food and a paper bag.
“Not a package, but I’d love to see what you plan on struttin in.”  He teased and smirked.
“SHIT---Uh---why are you here so late---”  You had your bonnet on and a big ass t-shirt with some stains on it and some basketball shorts.  It was the first time he'd seen you so casual.
"Easy there firecracker, I didn't expect you to look--what are the kids saying--'beat and snatched' 24/7." He pecked your lips and walked in. 
“I invited him Y/N. Tobias, don't ever try and say that shit again and bring me my wings.”  Aurora smiled and laughed, seeming to not be phased by her boss seeing her in a scarf and acne cream dotting her face.  Was she just so tired from work she didn’t care?  Who were you kidding, this girl was a complete trip after a long day and was just sayin ‘fuck it’.
“Elijah, I got Tobias to grab you some of that shrimp scampi from that place downtown, and Y/N--he got you your favorite cause I told him and you his new boo thing.”  Aurora smirked with a wing in hand, and Elijah playfully gagged while Tobias handed out takeout containers and handed yours over. Yup, it was your favorite dish from your favorite place.  
“Now--I was invited for 3 reasons: A.) I have a car so I could do the food run and get y’all spoiled asses some good food.  B.)  I live 5 blocks away from the liquor store so--” He held up a bottle from the bag he had--Hennessy, cause of course he’d get the most stereotypical dr--”And C.) I had to pull a double shift so I’m tired and nice enough to share some college Ramsey stories with y’all.”
So there you were, sipping on your glass and laughing as Tobias was explaining how Ethan thought that ‘double dutch’ was some kind of dessert or innuendo for a threesome with exchange students.
“Wait wait---no no you gotta be kiddin me.  Fuckin 4.0 Med school GPA Ramsey--future head of Edenbrooks Diagnostics Team--thought double dutch was some kinda play on words?  I have to laugh…” Elinah snorts. You couldn’t help but burst into whoops and hollars, laughing and even Aurora couldn’t hide the smile on her face after she almost choked on her drink.
“Uh-huh.  Even after I told him what it was, he insisted that he had to see ‘it’.  I took him to my old neighborhood, and watched four 9 year old girls school him while he nearly fell flat on his face!”  Tobias laughed and smiled as he recalled the memory.  “For someone so fuckin smart--I swear to god he’s a dumbass.  Arrogant too, he never wanted to jump rope at the gym anymore.”
Something inside you flipped on.  You took a sip of Henny and smirked.  
“Well, I knew he had the fuckin long-ass neck of a giraffe, but clearly them legs ain’t doin him a favor either.”  Tobias nearly spat his drink and crumbled on the floor into laughter, Elijah slamming his hand on the table and laughing with him.  It was taking all of Aurora’s willpower to not laugh and act a fool.  “I mean, I know he ain’t got any rhythm either!  Mothafucka was clappin OFFBEAT during Donahue’s karaoke night, but I’m supposed to trust him to count how many heartbeats a patient has.”  You joke again, and Elijah was holding his sides.
“Fuck---he---Y/N shut the hell up!”  Tobias laughed and playfully pushed your shoulder.  “Pass me the damn bottle….y’all lemme tell you somethin worse than that--his cooking.  The man can’t stay on beat let alone beat a fuckin egg.  Y/N--tell ‘em bout the chicken.”
“He---He invited me home after work or somethin--and he wanted me to help him with this recipe he saw for chicken.  Y’all, it was the BLANDEST ass recipe I ever saw in my life.  I was terrified to eat whatever the fuck he was makin, it was so bad his dad even helped out and said how it needed some proper seasoning.  I had never seen an old man so disappointed in such an empty spice cabinet.  I had to leave.”  You snicker as you retell the story.  “Even worse?  He tried to bring me some leftovers afterwards and by god was that mothafucka dry as HELL---y’know what, lemme calm down cause I am not about to yell over some bland ass chicken.”  You chugged down the Henny and grabbed the bottle to pour another glass.
“Y’know….for someone who seemed real eager to stuff a chicken, he cannot seem to tell he got a stick stuffed far up his ass.  No wonder he walks around like an emotionally constipated man-baby.”  Aurora said with a straight face as she chugged her own drink.  You turned away, laughing and doing a spit take as Tobias slammed his fist on the table, snorting while Elijah simply was in awe at Aurora’s words. 
 “My first week there, I was assigned to Y/N and cause my auntie was makin me give her full on oral essays of every case I had, I missed out on one of ours and nearly let a patient die.  Now---his ass knows this.  He knows exactly who the fuck I am and who the fuck my aunt is.  And what did he do?  Chewed me out without a second thought.  I was *this* close to curb stomping his ass I swear--He even called Y/N amature after saving someone’s life because it ‘was sloppy’ and ‘wasn’t professional enough’.  And another thing--” 
You watched Aurora stand up, Henny in her hand, and just goin off on Ethan.  She was tearing into him, from him being able to get off the hook for punching Declan, verbally avicerating innocent interns, being all high and mighty--man, she hated his ass.  Elijah was just eating his scampi, vibing and Tobias was smiling like a proud parent, eating his burger. 
 “He gon have the nerve--the audacity--the CAUCASITY to assume that I’M trippin because I told him about Landry being all rude and dismissive of one of his black-female patients.  He nearly put ME on probation for helping deliver the baby properly when Landry prescribed her the wrong treatment for something cause neither of them will ever fuckin LISTEN and--”  You could not have been any more impressed.  You were just soaking it all in.  She finally sat back down and ate some of her wings.
Tobias sighs and grins.  “Damn. Elijah, you been real quiet...you wanna add your two cents?” he asks while Tobias took a big gulp and sat the glass back down.  He took a deep breath.
“No, no….I just want his long-neck-headass, mommy-didn’t-love-me-so-I’m-a-lil-bitch-headass, grudge-holding-grown-ass-man-headass, lemme-insult-my-interns-headass, pompous, privileged, irritating, high and oh so fuckin’ mighty ass to humble himself and learn to get his head and the stick he got outta his ass.  It ain’t cute to just bash everyone around you cause yo ass is feelin like Hamilton, ‘smartest in the room’ mofo.”  He said, all very calmly while finishing his drink.   You, Tobias and Aurora just exchanged a look….and broke out into a fit of laughs and smiling. 
A few drinks later and a hella amount of roasts later, you were cuddled up with Tobias while Elijah laid out on Aurora's lap. 
"Damn…..we really been up for hours now. Jackie and Sienna still out…" Elijah piped up and checked his phone. "They're at Bryce's place, having a 'girls night' with Keiki and sleepin over…..ooooo, Tobias should sleep over too!" He showed y'all a photo Sienna sent. 
"Uh-huh, you should! We can watch movies and... oh Elijah your hair is sooooo soft." Aurora smiled and was playfully twisting it. Seems like the drinks were finally hitting.  Tobias could tell too.
He managed to help Elijah back in his wheelchair and followed his directions to his room.  He came back out to you helping Aurora to her room.
"Byyyye boss. See ya at work! If you do stay over, y'all better be quiet while he rearrange them guts!" She poked you laughing as you rolled your eyes and got her in bed.  You walked back out, feeling tipsy yourself and plopped on the couch...with Tobias.
"Y'know….your friends definitely know how to go all in on a roast session. I found out shit about Ethan I didn't know till now."
"Mhmmmm….Henny is….is a miracle worker…" you slurred and laughed, laying up on him. "And yoooooouuu….are a fine-ass pillow." 
Before you succumbed to the exhaustion and hennessy, you felt Tobias's lips peck your cheek gently and his arms hold you tight against him.
The next day at work, you were taking your break and went outside to the courtyard...much to your surprise you found a few children--presumabley patients-- playing double dutch with some jump rope.
"Apples, peaches, pears, and plums
Tell me when your birthday comes! 1! 2! 3! 4!"
They were counting along as you hopped inside the rope, showing off a bit and laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ethan walking towards the building.
"Hey, Ethan, wanna join? It may not be a dessert or two dutch girls--but it'll be fun!" You called out and teased while working the ropes. You could see his face turn red from where you were, and him muttering softly about Tobias. You couldn't help but laugh as you kept skipping and hopping away.
40 notes · View notes
Text
Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6 Chapter 1
T/N: I mostly didn’t translate a lot of the names of the ayakashi/youkai, as well as the proper nouns because uhm... They’re basically nouns. It’s like how some translated manga are done. Plus it irks me sometimes when everything just gets transliterated, it kills off the vibe. But that’s just me. Links to references at the end of the post.
Also if you like this translation, you can share the link, reblog, but for pete’s sake DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. I worked hard to finish this thing, it’s not like I just Google-translated this whole sh**..
If you need refreshers on what happened, @kakuriyo-translations​ already had the previous translations. I’m just contributing to this fandom. Also, as previously mentioned in my other post, the 2 seasons of the anime cover volumes 1-5, so if you need a review just rewatch them all. Volume 6 starts here.
OK, here’s the stuff now.
Volume 6 - I got hired as a novice in an Ayakashi Inn** From the back cover: Autumn has visited the Ayakashi living in Kakuriyo's long-established inn Tenjin-ya. Aoi who was kidnapped by the rival inn Orio-ya, finally ended through her cooking the hardships of, and cleared the curse of the Southern Lands. Returning home victoriously, what awaits this lady are her friends in Tenjin-ya, the warmth, and the everyday busy-ness! While thinking of new souvenir products and preparing and pushing for the Autumn Festival, she reopens her Japanese Restaurant "Yugao". That time, she was invited by Odanna-sama to a fruit orchard date. Surely him always inviting her out never changed, as time after the Orio-ya incident passes her by, is she realizing that she's starting to think that she wants to know more about Odanna-sama...?
From the inside front jacket: Yuuma Midori (Author)A citizen from Fukuoka. Her debut publication published by Alpha Police: Marrying my wife is a dangerous circumstance with a giant demonic beast. Changing her pen-name after that, she published Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi, I married into an Ayakashi Inn. Currently  Fujimi Bun-ko's big hit, and is now an illustrated series released by B-s LOG COMICS.
Character introduction page Tenjin-ya: An old-established place in North-eastern Kakuriyo, where Ayakashi dwell. Under the Ogre-god's (Onigami) leadership, many visiting Ayakashi helped it flourish, although sometimes humans make visits too. Odanna-sama: Master of Kakuriyo's Tenjin-ya, an Onigami respected by many Ayakashi. Even though Aoi should be wedded to him, his true intentions are currently unknown, as he watches the lady's speech and behavior. Tsubaki Aoi: College student who was whisked away against her own will in order to pay for her grandfather's debt in Tenjin-ya. Refusing Odanna-sama's marriage proposal, with her talents in cooking she manages her own Japanese restaurant, Yugao.
T/N: The volume title is a pun, it can go like "a new hire gets into an ayakashi inn" or "newly-harvested rice enters the ayakashi inn". No complaints though, but I won't spoil anything lol
Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6, Chapter 1: Autumn's Newly-harvested Rice's** Accompaniment P5 "Aoi-san! We're already at our limit!" "Gah, so far, today...." That was in the last days of September in Yugao. I, Tsubaki Aoi, scrunching my face in vexation, took a peep in the refrigerator with hardly any ingredients left. Confronting and attacking the food rations altogether, it seems that they're now all gone. I wonder if in today's opening, will the incoming guests ever cease?
Lately, Yugao's business has been spectacular all over, it has been a very, very busy time. On days when there are so many customers, when the ingredients are all used up midway, the restaurant has to close shop early, and while we're preparing so many ingredients before reopening again, on those days that we have to regulate incoming customers, not many come in and the restaurant becomes bare of people, controlling the number of incoming guests is difficult. I wonder what I'll do if it's just me doing everything inside the restaurant, and I feel like I'm already at my limit... "That matter at Orio-ya, the thing about the ceremony and all the different things have been dramatized and turned upside-down in so many ways, it has become Kakuriyo's hot topic. Aoi-san has become something that livened-up the world, and Ayakashi have been interested and drawn to you, haven't they? Even Yugao has become famous..."
T/N: It's frustrating to translate the term for newly-harvested rice. Coming from a rice-eating culture like Japan and the rest of Asia, it's easy to categorize all stages of rice because there are words that exist for that. Like they say, languages are shaped by the needs of the users. Unfortunately, English has none of those so yeah, from here on end I'll be using the term newly-harvested rice here because to be honest, it tastes a lot better than rice stocked for a long time. That one tastes dry and bland even when cooked, while newly-harvested rice smells fragrant, has a soft texture, and just doesn't taste moldy lol
P6 While on a short break from cleaning up and arranging the place after business hours, Ginji-san and I were eating dried persimmons given to us by a customer as we sat on the counters while sipping tea. "Ginji-san, you were keenly saying that, but I wasn't intending on making a ruckus in Kakuriyo." "Yes, I understand. Ayakashi have been noticing, in their own ways... Thanks to Yugao, our business is booming!" Ginji-san's tired face turned and changed into a very happy one, meanwhile I was getting anxious. As someone who is burdened with a debt I am happy that the restaurant is flourishing, even though the place is getting better overall, there are many hindrances coming out with regards to cooking, and in spite of our efforts, I still feel bad for the customers that come in. Ah, but unrelated to that, this dried persimmon tastes really good. It's center is soft and moist, and sweet, yet a faint aftertaste of the puckery seed still remains, but I love that taste. Even if the people that I hated then are that much, a lot of Grandpa's treasured food makes me yearn for the good old days. "Very soon, Yugao will need to hire new employees, don't you think so?" "New employees? Really? Well, if it's just Ginji-san and I, it's already impossible..." I agreed with Ginji-san's suggestion. Ever since we opened, the two of us had been giving our all. To put it in words, we need someone other than Ginji-san to be designated with a job post. All the more that I think Yugao needs a new staff. "Since it seems that Aoi-san is concentrating on making the dishes, you might want the new staff to bear the task of receiving guests. P7 Would you like to try putting up a "Now Hiring" sign in Tenjin-ya's announcement board?" "I wonder who would come to apply?" What kind of brand-new staff will we hire? "Aoi-sama, you're cruel!" Instantly, from the pendant that contains ogre-fire, popped out Ai-chan. She looks like me, but her cheeks were swelling with annoyance. "Why, you call me your family, and at the same time hire me as your employee! If that's the case, tell me what to do!" "Well now, Ai-chan is very eager to work?" "You haven't spoken to me in a very long time..." Is that so? I tried to recall. When I called Ai-chan out to learn about the basics of cooking, that time she went out and played with Chibi. I think Ai-chan is still an Ayakashi child, and she still haven't got the idea on what it means to be an employee. "But Ai-chan, if you feel sleepy, you can't return to the pendant. Also, on top of that, it would be weird when there's two of us working here at Yugao..." Ginji-san looked at Ai-chan and I. P8 I wonder what he thinks of us having similar faces. "Oh, that, uhm... Aoi-san is most concerned about Ai-chan, and it is that you would want to work, but I think it's surely awkward when there is someone that looks like Aoi-san, won't it?" "Wh.. Why is that...? Young master-sama, I want to work too..." Ai-chan begged earnestly to Ginji-san with her teary eyes. My face tells it all, and Ginji-san also sees that it can turn into a crazy situation, and we stuttered. "Uhm, that's... That is..." Her eyes started swimming in tears. "But we could cause confusion with the customers. They'll think Ai-chan is me, and I am Ai-chan..." "I'm definitely sure that can happen... This is not related to Yugao's business operations, but it's possible that I can swap places with a family who looks like me, but really you are a precious being. With that, won't it be better to hide?" "Really?" "Yes... If my look-alike and I were both working in here, we may have a trump card,but evil people may take advantage of that too. Because of that, Ai-chan who can do things must hide in her favorite place..." Ginji-san glimpsed at teary-eyed Ai-chan who was biting her lower lip like a child and scratching her forehead. P9 "In order for Ai-chan to work in this restaurant, there are two conditions, OK? One, when you're in duty, you can't go to sleep. The other is that you have to change your appearance into someone else's." "Someone else's appearance..." Ai-chan and I huddled and titled our heads. The thing about not sleeping is reasonable and understandable. "About that, how do I change into someone else?" "I'm sorry. That's something that you must learn on your own. Be original, OK?" "O..ri...gi..nal..?" It seems that Ai-chan doesn't understand what that means. "Well, let's see. Let's use Tokihiko-san from Orio-ya as an example.** In the beginning, that person was just made up of many little Youkai flames**, but right now he can't change into anything else, he can only change into the shape he already has. If you change your appearance into someone else, if you change it to look like me, that's a whole different level, but Ai-chan is still a child, I wonder if she can understand?" But Ai-chan yells "I'll do it!" and raises her hand in proclamation. "I'll do my best in making my own appearance!" "Wooooowwww..." Ginji-san and I lightly clapped our hands for Ai-chan who was in high spirits.
T/N: In Volume 3, where Shizuna and Tokihiko meet again, like the episodes before the Orio-ya arc, it was briefly explained that ayakashi are formed from objects, when the consciousness enters the objects and make them sentient. I’ll probably translate that once I finished volumes 6-10, or maybe not. P10 "But because it's sleepy-time, I'll go back to the pendant!" "Whaaat." She immediately returned into ogre-fire, and Ai-chan hid back into the pendant in my bosom. The pendant's flickering light makes it seem like Ai-chan was sleeping and snoozing peacefully inside. "She seems serious, about the whole 'What appearance should I make' thing." "As soon as she wanted to slep, she already entered a new period of growth. In just a short time, I think she's already like an Ayakashi that stays awake late at night... It's because Ayakashi by nature don't sleep that much." "It's not like that, it's just that employes and everyone else just have short sleeping schedules. It's toxic**, it's something I thought of, but it's not really like that..." "No, it's not something like that. It's because Tenjin-ya also considerably receives nice wholesome** citizens of Kakuriyo. And that is why it's always very busy." "What, wait, doesn't that make it mixed**?" Well, whatever, I only sleep 10 minutes everyday, and even though it's a rest day tomorrow, it's not a problem for me. And for sure, when that busy day comes, I'd be very happy to receive Ai-chan's help. Whatever that child's appearance would make, I'll be looking forward to it.
T/N: the original words used were BLACK, WHITE, and GRAY. Black is considered to be the dark side of things aka toxic workplaces, White is the usual nice and wholesome facade, and the Gray was just inserted to complete the pun because in color theory thingy, BLACK+WHITE=GRAY. But that's just me lol You have been warned that this light novel uses a lot of puns P11 "Aoi--- Fooooood---" "Oh, that person's here." That person, is that Yuki-onna. Always, after Yugao's business hours, it's always the same, she always comes, the former Young Mistress but is now the waitress O-ryo. "Now's not a good time, O-ryo. There's none already." "Waaait, again? No rice? Even the rice is gone too?" "Even if I cook the rice, that's just it. Tomorrow is Yugao's rest day, and there aren't any excess ingredients here." "Then as long as there's rice that can be cooked, it's fine. I really love rice. Newly-harvested rice** is the most delicious, isn't it?" If that's the case, then there's nothing else to eat here, Ginji-san and I whispered to each other. But O-ryo just invited herself in the counters, and I had no choice but to stand up and start preparing to cook the rice. Just as O-ryo said, it's already the season of delicious rice. Especially in the land of Ogre's Gate, the rice brand "Onihonoka" is a famous specialty and souvenir, harvested either in the last days of August to the first days of September, polished immediately after harvest and is now back in the market. P12 But, if we use newly-harvested rice here in Yugao, it's distinct grains that contain a lot of moisture can really rake in the positive points. When cooking rice it is common that the little water added will decrease as it cooks, and it tastes all the more better. I wonder if O-ryo can wait for 30 minutes as the rice gets soaked.** "Wait, O-ryo sama!" The next one who came in was that horse chestnut girl, with her signature Tanuki ears and the round, fluffy tail. It was Tenjin-ya's lower-ranking waitress, Kasuga. "We thought we lost the bottle opener at the banquet hall. O-ryo sama, when your duties ended you immediately went to Yugao, and our new-hired waiters and waitresses had to search here and there. I was about to do some deliveries but I had to take charge of our newbies." "Oh, really? Kasuga, why didn't you just remember to let your juniors do it?" "But it's O-ryo sama's fault. All of the juniors and everyone has been doing their best here." "Oh, fine, there, there. Kasuga, you're also giving it your all, OK?" Whether it's because she's tired or she just deemed the answer was acceptable and ran away with it, Kasuga just allowed O-ryo to roughly pat her head. And when the bottle opener that had a bell made out of ice was produced, Kasuga immediately stuck it inside her obi. When the bell chimed, a clear tinkling sound echoed. "Isn't that ice bell lovely?"
T/N: Hot tip, if you're cooking rice, not the instant kind, if you want a less fussy method just soak it for at least 30 minutes before boiling it, it makes it cook faster, especially when the rice is long-grain, brown or colored rice, or the dry grained ones that are better for fried rice because the grains don't stick together. P13 "Yes. I won't give it to you, Kasuga." "I don't have a need for it, and for that reason it's not an important conversation." Kasuga sighed with a dumbfounded expression. In this situation I don't know who's the senior and who's the underling. "Oh, by the way, Young Master-sama, Odanna-sama calls for you." "Wah, is that so, Kasuga-san? Oh, it's probably the matter about the Autumn Festival. Aoi-san, I have to go to the main building for a bit, ok?" "Yes, thank you for your hard work, Ginji-san." Ginji-san's head bobbed as he bowed, and with a quick pace left Yugao. "Kasuga, even today you were asked to do a lot of things here and there, weren't you?" "Yeah, that's true. Everyone was telling me to go here and run over there. Oh well, I'll get used to it somehow." Kasuga meekly and quietly sat beside were O-ryo was sitting. Did this girl also went here to eat some newly-harvested rice? "Aoi--- Is it done? I'm hungry-- Isn't Kakuriyo's pot cooking fast enough?" "Whaaat. Please wait a bit more, O-ryo. Because it's newly-harvested rice, I only had it soaked for a bit." "Ehhh... That's already fine. Whether it gets cooked or not, because I'm hungry." P14 I wanted to choose the best way to cook the newly-harvested rice, so I could relish its delicious taste, but I wonder if I just lost to O-ryo's explanation just like this while the rice was cooking. She seems to be already at the limit of her patience, and she started to violently beat the counters. "Aoi--- Aoi--- Rice! Let me eat rice!" "Hold it there, big woman baby! Stop beating the counters, or else it will fall apart." My table.. Really, O-ryo can really be so selfish... "Yo, is there any grub to eat?" Akatsuki, like the usual routine, came here. O-ryo, Kasuga, and Akatsuki, repeatedly always come here, and were becoming "Give me food, give me food" Ayakashi. "I'm sorry Akatsuki, today there's nothing left. O-ryo said she's fine with just white rice, and that's what I'm cooking right now." "I'm also fine with just rice. Do you have any pickles?" Akatsuki sat beside the counter where Kasuga was, where two people were already sitting at. It has always been like this. "Wherever rice is offered as if for the gods, there's always a line on the counters. One way or another, Ayakashi love rice, don't they?" Finally, the rice on the stove has cooked. Kakuriyo's pots only need five minutes to cook rice, and it's really very convenient. P15 "Akatsuki, you haven't used up your salary and vacation leaves this year, haven't you? You don't have a girlfriend, and you give me the impression that working is your hobby. You're that kind of guy, aren't you?" While doing nothing on an empty stomach, O-ryo started bickering with Akatsuki, who was beyond Kasuga's seat. Even thought it's not nice, O-ryo toys Akatsuki a lot, who was younger than her. Akatsuki's face spells like "Shut up, you're noisy" whenever he's tired after work. "It's better to think about frolicking and having fun, Akatsuki. It's a waste, no matter how much you work, being a guy who looks angry and has no excess time to have some time to have fun." "Stop talking to me already, O-ryo." "Whaaat. How conceited. I'm the senior and you're the junior. I'm older than you and you're younger than me." "And so? You dropped being in the management staff and now you're a waitress. Between being a head clerk and a waitress, I'm higher-ranked." "Arrrghh, this guy is so UN-ADORABLE!" "O-ryo sama, you're noisy!" O-ryo's shrill voice spreads out, and Akatsuki and Kasuga both covered their ears. I opened Yugao's kitchen's refrigerator as I pinched my small ears shut. There wasn't any ingredients left to make side dishes, so I just took the rice out and served it. As I was doing this, I was laughing by myself. Hee hee hee.. "I could hear Aoi-chan letting out a weird laugh." P16 "What meals are she thinking of, at this point?" "Aoi is indeed an Ayakashi that cooks and cooks, isn't she?" Until now, O-ryo, Kasuga and Akatsuki were all whispering and back-biting me. But that's what I felt. After waiting, the newly-harvest rice that we have been waiting for has been cooked. After the boiled rice was done, I opened the lid and a foggy yet aromatic steam was released, and my stomach started to grumble on its own. As I stirred the freshly-cooked rice, I divided it and placed some on the rice tub. Using a wooden rice paddle I tried checking its texture and taste, it was springy, and its sweetness was enjoyable. "OK, there's a lot of rice, so please just eat however you like." In the restaurant's table where the rice tub was placed, in Akatsuki and Kasuga's usual rice bowls, and in O-ryo's favorite and sometimes variable larger bowl, I served them the white rice. I piled a lot of it. Each grain was puffy and glossy, which is due to the rice's freshness. "Yay! Let's eat!" O-ryo speedily and hungrily ate the rice, as she was holding her bowl and chopsticks. Hmph, O-ryo just quieted down right now. "Kasuga, Akatsuki, aren't you two hungry too? Start eating up." P17 "Ehhhrm.... It's hard to eat like O-ryo with just the white rice..." "Aren't there any pickled food, Aoi-chan?" "Tsk, tsk, how about if I place this here?" I placed a jar in between Kasuga and Akatsuki's counters. At first, they just stared at it in bewilderment, but carefully examined the jar's contents. Kasuga seemed to immediately get what it was. "Oh, I know it! It's nametake, enoki mushrooms!" "Yes, I made it from all of the mushrooms collected this Autumn, and I placed a lot of it. I goes great with white rice. I added it to our Autumn's daily specials." As soon as I opened the jar's lid, and scooped the nametake with a wooden spoon, I placed a lot on top of their rice in the two rice bowls. The brown mushrooms were flowing and melting and moist due to being boiled down. Enoki, shimeji, shiitake, these were all seasoned with the mild soy sauce that Ayakashi love. Sugar, mirin, sake and other seasonings were also added as staples, and in my case, there's also a bit of vinegar and some spicy peppers. These were added to give a hint of spiciness and sourness to the mild flavor. To make excellent preserved food, cold tofu, boiled down greens using dashi stock and others can be added and turned into one dish. While the nametake is mixed in with the piping hot rice, Kasuga and Akatsuki heartily wolfed down their food. "Wow... This meal is filling in my empty stomach.." P18 "This is delicious!" The enoki makes a crispy and appetizing sound. O-ryo, who was growing tired of the white rice, and seems to have noticed the nametake that Kasuga and Akatsuki were eating, started staring at it with longing eyes. "O-ryo, if you want to eat some nametake, please have some too." What the.. I have barely finished talking and O-ryo already stole the nametake jar. "Wah, it's my rice's buddy!" "O-ryo sama, it's greedy of you to take it for yourself!" "Kasuga, Akatsuki, don't worry, there are other partners for your rice." The poor things, but because there were other food that pair up well with rice, I brought them out. Toppings such as pickled plums, ground meat mixed with miso and lotus root, daikon pickled in vinegar with kelp, I brought out various preserved dishes too. Because rice goes well with many daily staples, many others were served on the side. "I am pushing this powerful medicine. I stir-fried some Hijiki seaweed that still has its water, along with the gritty and crisp pickled plum with some dashi stock. It really goes well with rice." Deprived of the nametake, Akatsuki tried adding the plum and seaweed mix as a rice topping. The crunchy texture and sourness of the plum, and the strong umami taste of the seaweed was incorporated, and this was a very luxurious and delightful taste. It doesn't need any other side dish, this makes it a full and satisfying topping. P19 When making onigiri, it can be added to the rice. It's excellent for emergencies. After experimenting with both the kelp and vinegar-pickled daikon as well as the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, O-ryo started eyeing at everything again, and I placed some little by little in the saucer that she was using. It' s great that she gets to enjoy a wide variety to pair up with her rice. It's exciting to think like what could be the next one you'll taste, with each bite. Once in a while, it's nice to just enjoy and relish the taste of the newly-harvested rice. After a while, I decided to eat some rice, and went back to the kitchen to get the rice bowl I normally use. "Ah, I just remembered something!" That's it. There were still two slices left in the refrigerator for the staff's breakfast. Autumn salmon. If I defrost that, I can make another rice pair-up! "Hee hee hee. A staple rice accompaniment: salmon flakes!"** I defrosted the salmon slice on the dish with Yokai fire, flayed the skin off, and lightly seared the surface on a frying pan, added salt, dashi, mirin, sake and other seasonings then heated this on a low flame. Sauteing this with a wooden spatula while adding some water to soften it, it's all what I need to do. Hee hee hee... "That Aoi-chan is laughing in the kitchen again..." "It smells like fish being cooked..." "Hold up, Aoi! Why are you cooking fish just for yourself? My nose isn't deceiving me!" T/N: I actually do this with meat, tofu, fish or whatever I add to vegetable dishes to make them more tasty. In Japan, they call this ground meat, fish or tofu that is seasoned and sauted as "Flake". You can just prepare a large batch, and use them as needed. I guess all those hours watching Tokuson Life Hacks also helped a lot lol P20 "Don't worry Kasuga, Akatsuki, O-ryo. Everyone's going to eat what I'm making." That said, it's my last serving. Reduce the water, when the flesh has fallen apart, add white sesame seeds and sesame oil, and lightly saute it. It's really easy. The home-made salmon flake is done. "It 's done! It's done! From kids to adults, everyone will love it, the best to be paired with rice, salmon flakes! Loose salmon topping, is it easy to understand?" "Ohhh..." "That smells really good!" As soon as I brought this in front of them, O-ryo and Akatsuki's voices just sounded with admiration. Since their bowls were already devoid of rice, they both wanted to fill their bowls with another serving. But they started fighting on who should be going to get more rice to add in the rice tub, and Kasuga went up and took the rice tub on her own to refill it. She's really the most adult in this bunch. "Ahhh, I can finally eat some rice too!" Thereafter, I placed some hot, piping rice on my bowl and I could finally eat my supper. For the first time, we're going to partake the crumbly salmon flakes that I made. I can use that for onigiri, and it's going to be a favorite item in bento boxes. P21 We can do the bottling, the marketing, and the selling, as our products are really delicious, but it seems that I'll have to make it and do it all by myself. Slicing, adding water, seasoning.. I'll do it how I like it. The glossy and clean rice due to it being freshly-harvested, when you add the shiny and reddish-brown color of the salmon flakes, eating it with a spoon just makes you gobble it all up. Ah, the autumn's salmon is really tasty and fatty. When mixed and used as rice topping, in one bite the umami and saltiness goes well with the mild, sweetness of the rice. Adding the white sesame and sesame oil's fragrances, the salmon's taste, flavor and aroma improves. "Wah, this tastes so delicious, I wanna have a bowlful more.." "O-ryo sama, if you eat more than that, you'll get fat. But I want a bowlful more too..." "I knew it, it's the autumn salmon. It really pairs well with the rice." It looks like everyone got satisfied with the salmon flakes. Oh no, this is bad. We have quickly eaten the rice... We took in so much carbs..." Even the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, the miso-flavored meat and the crunchy texture of the lotus root, really, really goes well with rice too. When you want to cleanse the palate, munching on the vinegar and kelp-pickled daikon is a fitting and refreshing break. "Aoi-dono!" Sasuke-kun, the O-niwaban guard has come here to Yugao. P22 Sasuke-kun was holding a bamboo straining basket, in his usual ninja-style. And, well, inside that basket were fresh red eggs. "These are the cassowary eggs that I have gathered tonight. The Master and Young Master sent me here to deliver these to you with my life, as it is a pity that there is only white rice to eat. You can now make egg-topped rice**." I bumped into him while running. That was the ultimate, crowning, and appropriate pairing to the rice. This is awesome! TKG has arrived here!** "Wah, I'll eat another bowlful more---" "Hey, that's unfair of you, O-ryo. Me too!" "Me too. It's because eggs are also served now." In the middle of the night, the Ayakashi were eating white rice in reckless abandon. "Please, I would like to fill my stomach with a bowlful of rice." "Yes, Sasuke-kun, please come have some." Anyone can't hide their excitement with egg-topped rice. Hollowing top of the hot, piping rice, when the shell is cracked open, the lovely raw egg is dropped in here. The cassowary's rich egg yolk's color, its shine, its jelly-like appearance, when it covers the rice, it has an irresistable charm. T/N: If you're going to try this, just a reminder that bacteria like Salmonella can contaminate the egg. Only do this with super-fresh eggs from a seller you trust because getting sick isn't worth it. TKG is basically tamago-kake-gohan, or how I wrote it here, egg-topped rice. P23 Ah, just looking at it, I know it's definitely delicious. "For sure, with egg-topped rice, it's Kakuriyo's mild soy sauce, isn't it?" I wanted a simple approach. "Soy sauce is good, but adding a little sesame oil is also delicious." As expected of O-ryo, who is in the majority group. "As a minority, I like mine to have noodle soup base and wasabi." From my peripheral vision I could see Akatsuki grumbling. But that seems to be delicious too. "I always eat it with ponzu. If there's dried bonito flakes and fried onions I'll add those too." For some reason, this was expected of Kasuga. "If there are seasonings, I'll add them." Sasuke-kun is too gallant. "Ok, ok, you can eat your differing favorites, that's good." Everyone's demands were heard, and I took various seasonings and flavorings and placed these at the center of the table. I, nonetheless the simpleton just added a bit of soy sauce over the yolk, and lightly broke it, mixing it with my chopsticks. In that moment, I felt a wonderful, happy feeling. Probably, just adding the egg, I haven't even finished mixing the runny egg in, I already took a bite. "Wahhh, taking the first bite of egg-topped rice is really something, isn't it?" P24 The rich flavor of the egg yolk makes it the best and enjoyable. After relishing the first bite, I completely mixed everything, and ate some more. "Hey, everyone, the meat with miso and lotus root also goes well with the egg-topped rice." Everyone noticed the previously-ignored meat with miso after Kasuga's discovery. Wah, it really does taste well together. This is a great discovery! Egg-topped rice is awesome! Just by itself is delicious, but arranging and adding flavors for variation, it's going to be an awesome feast. "It looks like you are all having fun." "Oh, Odanna-sama." Odanna-sama and Ginji-san came to Yugao together. O-ryo and Kasuga, Akatsuki and Sasuke-kun, who were all until now eating like as if in a stupor, all suddenly stopped and stood up, and deeply bowed to Odanna-sama. "It's alright, continue eating. Those are rare eggs." As if waiting for those words, everyone sat down again and continued eating. "Well, what's up? It's been a long time since you came here. Did both of you came here for some egg-topped rice? If that's the case, we have a lot right now." "No, it's not that, a while ago we welcomed some guests and we sat for a bit and already had our meals." P25 "I also may have drank a bit too much... That liquor was a tad strong.. Uhm.. I will eat some later, ok?" Both Ginji-san and Odanna-sama were definitely tipsy, somewhat. If they received some guests during work, why were they suddenly here? While in the middle of his rapid and nonchalant talking, is he going to suggest something? "Aoi, isn't Yugao on a break tomorrow? If you're free, let's go out on a date." "What?" In an instant. I realized that everyone who was continuing their eating all stopped their chopsticks. The Odanna-sama in question, who was really in a giddy mood continued smiling. "Aoi hasn't had a rest and had always been working hard even after returning from the Orio-ya matter. And I apologize for not taking the time too, for a long while. As a new wife, Aoi has not experienced any hour of fun at all." "It's fine, I have fun every day..." "That's it! Let's go to an orchard park. We can prepare food with apples and grapes, how's that?" While my face holds desperation, somehow Odanna-sama firmly grips my shoulder. "How's that" he says. "Apples and grapes, huh..." Pointing my finger to my chin, an idea popped into my head. For sure, there will be delicious autumn fruits. P26 "OK, let's go, Odanna-sama. I am interested in the orchard park." "I'm happy to hear you say that, Aoi!" With a sigh of relief, Odanna-sama wiped the sweat on his brow. The crowd of egg-topping eaters behind me, once again started moving their chopsticks. "Aoi-san, the orchard park is inside a mountain that connects the northern and north-eastern lands. The autumn leaves in that mountain change early, and I already heard that they're already in full display, so I hope that you can also enjoy the scenery tomorrow." "Ginji-san, you're not coming too?" "Me? I, uhm..." "You also haven't taken a break since the matter with Orio-ya, you should really take a break. Won't you come with us tomorrow?" Odanna-sama invited him, but Ginji-san looked at both Odanna-sama and I, and with a small smile shook his head. "No, thank you. I think I will take care of Tenjin-ya in Odanna-sama and Aoi-san's absence." I think it's the usual Ginji-san answer, but in that time, he wasn't looking at me.
End of Chapter 1, Volume 6. Next - Chapter 2
References:
Wonderful site for the youkai references
Other stuff I used to do this: Kodansha Kanji Learner’s Dictionary (you can buy here, I’m not sponsored btw). I was about to buy the older edition but then the newer one came out 2013 so I bought that instead. Worth buying since I was able to find nearly all of the words I needed just by stroke pattern alone.
Merriam-Webster's Japanese-English Dictionary (the red-covered 1996 version is apparently out of print right now). This is what I have been using for a very long time, I bought it when I was still a fetus (yes I am old so what lol), and after so many years, when compared to newer editions, I still prefer this one since its entirety is Japanese-English, the English to Japanese gloss are just 16 pages tops, so you get more Japanese words for your buck. But that’s just my opinion, maybe other people prefer the Jap-En x En-Jap IDEK.
Basic online dictionary, Jisho. Knowledge of verb conjugations  and other words are necessary since not all have entries.
If you can read Japanese, you can buy the whole set in Amazon Japan, they’re shipping worldwide now, I think.
67 notes · View notes
brotherlysuggestion · 4 years
Text
Some basic baking/cooking tips that I've picked up over the years:
Basic tips:
Food keeps burning on the outside but is underdone on the inside? Try a lower heat for a longer time. This goes for both the stove top and oven. All foods. Eggs, pancakes, cupcakes, cookies, whatever.
Put a little bit of oil and salt in the water you're cooking your pasta in. The oil will help keep the noodles from sticking together, and the salt helps add flavor.
In general, salt the water of stuff you boil! Contrary to popular myth it doesn't make water boil any faster, but it adds some nice flavor to your potatoes/pasta/etc.
Adding coffee to a boxed chocolate cake mix can bump up the taste a few notches! I like to brew black coffee and use it in place of the plain water the recipe asks for.
When using a stand mixer, mix in the flour on a lower setting, half a cup/cup at a time. If you put in a bunch of flour in at a high speed, it'll poof into a giant flour cloud and coat everything that you love in a fine coat of flour dust.
Crust on your pie/cheesecake keeps burning? Put tin foil around the rim of the pan, covering the crust. It will protect it from getting so overdone.
If you like brownies that are a little gooey in the middle, add an extra egg! It makes them super gooey without actually being undercooked/unsafe to eat.
In math, 4 of 1/4 cup = 1 cup. This is not how measuring cups work. I don't know why, but 2 half cups have more flour in them than 1 whole cup. If you double a recipe just use the original measurement cups/spoons twice, otherwise your ratios will end up screwy.
If you mix melted butter with a cold liquid, the butter WILL resolidify into little chunks! If you need your liquid butter to stay liquid, mix in room temp/warm liquid!
Softened butter gives a different texture to dough/batter than melted butter. Know which one your recipe calls for.
There’s multiple levels that your oven rack can sit on, like a shelf! They’re little grooves in the wall of your oven that the metal grate sits on. You almost always want to be using the very middle one, unless the recipe specifies otherwise.
If a recipe calls for spices/herbs/etc but comes out bland on first attempt, try it again! My rule with bland recipes is to try it twice: once seasoned as directed, and once with seasoning adjusted as if the author of the recipe is a suburban soccer mom who thinks ketchup is spicy. Go ham and double/triple/whatever the spices to your tastes. Try it with adjusted spices at least once before tossing the recipe out.
Weird but common terms in recipes:
If a recipe calls for "stiffly beaten egg whites" it means to beat them until they're white and foamy/frothy throughout!
If a recipe tells you to "fold" batter, it's a method of gentle stirring that gets a lot of air into the batter. You sort of mix the batter up and over itself using vertical strokes instead of horizontal.
Also "cutting in" butter or margarine is a specific mixing technique. You use a fork or a knife to incorporate very small chunks of butter into your flour/dry ingredients. This is a really good technique for making flaky pie crusts/biscuits (American biscuits, that is)
All of these weird terms are easily googled and have written or video tutorials on how to do it!
Safety advice:
If you ever use a pressure cooker; please, PLEASE very carefully read how to release/equalize the pressure before attempting to open it. It will straight up explode. It is dangerous for both your house and body. Don't just wing it, please.
Don't use wax paper in place of parchment paper in the oven! Parchment paper and wax paper look and feel very similar, but parchment paper is coated in a silicone layer while wax paper is coated in a wax (generally paraffin). Silicone is heat resistant. Wax melts off of the paper, potentially allowing the paper to catch fire. Don't catch your food on fire.
DO NOT try to put out a grease fire with water! Turn the heat off and either smother it by putting a lid/cover over it until it is deprived of oxygen and goes out, or smother it using baking soda or salt. DO NOT use flour/sugar/baking powder to try and smother the fire. These look similar, but their chemical makeup is different enough that they will catch on fire and make a bigger mess.
Nervous about food being uncooked in the center? Open them up! I always stab into the pancakes/potatoes/meat I cook to check that it's cooked thoroughly. I know it doesn't look picture perfect, but it'll be okay. You're allowed to check.
Dietary restrictions:
If you're using gluten free flour try adding some unflavored gelatine, pectin, or agar agar powder to add moisture and keep it from crumbling! Gelatine isn't vegan/vegetarian safe, but both pectin and agar agar are! About a teaspoon of powder to cup of flour usually does it, but there's a lot of guides online.
Egg replacements for recipes are numerous! Yogurt, ripe mashed bananas, peanut butter, agar agar in water, silken tofu, and cornstarch with water all work really well depending on what you’re making and how many eggs you’re replacing! There’s lots of guides online for this.
Recipe calls for buttermilk, but you can’t/don’t drink milk? Put in about a teaspoon of vinegar per cup of plant based milk (almond milk, rice milk, soy milk, etc.). BAM, buttermilk substitute!
Tofu, mushrooms, eggplants, and beans are all really good meat substitutes!
For disabled and neurodivergent bakers/cooks:
You’re allowed to sit down when baking! Get your ingredients and measuring tools all laid out in one place and take a seat while you blend ingredients! Take a seat while you stir your food on the stove! If standing is unpleasant for you, don’t do it!
If you have trouble keeping track of what ingredients you’ve put in already, make a list on a piece of scratch paper! Write down all of your ingredients and check them off when you put them in! If you need help to keep track of how many cups/tablespoons/etc. of something you’ve put in already, put a tally mark after each cup you put in! Then if you forget/lose track, you have a little checklist showing you where you are!
If you can’t handle the noise/stimulus of mechanical mixers, think about whether or not you can mix it by hand! It might take longer than when using a mixer, but it’s worth it if you otherwise couldn’t do it.
If the noise/stimulus of metal clinking against ceramics is bad for you, there’s multiple ways to get around that! Plastic bowls are inexpensive and will dull the noise of a spoon hitting them! Depending on what you’re doing, rubber spatulas can be used in place of a metal utensil, and those will make very little noise! If you need a fork replacement or a stiffer utensil, then check out baby utensils! Oftentimes forks/spoons/etc. for small children will be coated with a rubbery material on the outside, and if you can find them in sizes that aren’t too tiny, it will also muffle the noises a lot.
Reassurances that you aren’t a bad baker/cook:
All those cool cookie frosting designs from instagram? They frosted those using mostly/all royal icing. It's a runny icing that hardens quickly and is great for decorating cookies. Regular cake frosting won't ever really achieve the same effects as royal icing. If you've ever tried cookie decorating and it came out horribly then you probably aren't a bad decorator, you probably just didn't have the right frosting.
It’s okay if you feel like there’s too much for you to remember! Most all (good) recipes lay everything out for you and will specify if you need to pay special attention to not overmix, or making sure the butter stays liquid, etc. etc.
Very few people can “just eyeball it” and cook/bake (especially bake) well without using recipe measurements. If you want to adjust seasoning, or flavor components, that’s fine! But there’s no shame in needing to follow recipes to get the base down correctly. I’ve been baking/cooking for 10+ years and I have to follow recipes!
Try not to stress out too much about the end result! Baking and cooking can be incredibly therapeutic. Try to enjoy the process if possible! Put on some music or a television show/movie in the background!
Okay, that’s all I have for now, but go out there and bake! I promise that you can do it! As long as you have a good recipe and some spare time/energy, you can do it!
And feel free to contact me if you have more questions! I’m not an expert, but I’d love to help!
422 notes · View notes
rokutouxei · 3 years
Text
burnt pancakes, sweet syrup
part 2 of: atelier heart
ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc | gen | 2857 | [ao3 in bio]
some of my favorite (imagined) scenes in between chapters of Theo's route. no direct spoilers in this one :)
to all those who are experiencing his route for the first time today, I hope you have an enjoyable stay in his story!
Of all the residents in the mansion, it was Theo who felt most like danger.
Who reminded you of gunpowder.
You wouldn’t call yourself the best judge of character, no, of course, but there was something about him that hounded you from your very first day at the mansion. The brief and curt introduction, the look on his eyes, his set jaw. You didn’t need to get any closer to get much of a sense of what kind of person he was.
In fact, you didn’t really want to, not when you’ve been thrown a hundred years into the past, into an era you do not know, into a country that isn’t yours, in a world that doesn’t seem like where you’ve come from, where everything is just a little bit different from what you know.
You had enough in your hands as it is. A sourpuss smart-mouth hounding you shouldn’t be part of your agenda here.
And yet it still is.
Almost inevitably–like all the fated things.
(one.)
It started with the day you burn the pancakes the first time you tried to help Sebastian with breakfast duty.
…Well, you didn’t burn them black, just a little more… say, toasty than what would have been preferable. You have a billion excuses in your head already: you’re not sure how to work this kind of stove, there’s something about the oil, the ingredients are different in the 21st century–but none of them make it out of your mouth, because Sebastian gives you this look that will say more than any length of speaking will do. You half-attempt to answer back quietly; a little cringe, narrowed eyebrows, awkward grin, wrinkled nose. You wipe your hands on your apron like doing that washes you of your culinary crime.
Your already-exhausted teacher sighs through his nose and scrapes off the remnants of your… little tragedy into a clean plate, having deemed it to be unfit for breakfast. You pout a little as you set it aside–arguing in your head: it’s just brown, this is still edible, you’re just being picky, Sebastian–but before you can turn back to see how Sebastian’s doing his “better cooked” versions of it, you hear the sound of the kitchen door opening.
Sebastian doesn’t turn–“I can usually tell who it is by their footsteps.” “You can what?”–but you do, spotting Theo standing by the doorway.
“Bonjour, Theo,” you greet, and he makes a small sound of acknowledgement as he turns to get something from a cabinet hidden out of your sight. A small jar or bottle? You don’t quite see what it is before he hides it in his pocket. “Early day today?”
“Personal business,” he answers, rather curtly–it used to make you jump, but you now know that’s just how he is. He turns to regard you and inevitably spots the lonely plate on your side of the counter.
He’s about to swoop in to get it (with a kind of targeted gaze you thought only birds of prey could have) so you push it aside, earning a little tch from him. That shocks you quite a bit–it’s just pancakes! and burnt ones too!–that it makes you stagger back.
Sebastian’s voice is steady as he says, “If you could wait a moment, Sir Theodorus, these next ones will be ready in a few.” The butler doesn’t even turn to face either both of you, but you know he’s watching you both carefully in his peripheral vision.
Theo’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong with these ones?” he asks.
For a moment, victory tastes gold in your mouth, and you’re just about to throw the entire plate at his face with a fork and maybe match the gesture with evil laughter, if only to prove Sebastian wrong. The statement seems to be enough to garner the butler’s full attention, turning to Theo with genuine shock.
“Sir, the–”
“This is fine. I have to go,” Theo quickly quips. “Hondje. Get me some syrup.”
He snatches the plate from your side quickly, takes a fork from the drying rack, his coat fluttering slightly from the sudden movement as he takes a seat on the small prep table inside the kitchen. You just stare at him kind of dumbly, because now, in that different light, the sun pouring through the open windows, the plate of pancakes looks… pathetic at best. Maybe Sebastian was right about it being unsuitable for breakfast.
“Hondje,” he calls you again, this time his tone deeper.
You zone back in. “Huh?” 
“Syrup bottles do not walk on their own.”
You frown on instinct, but knowing that that only makes you target for more teasing, you straighten your face into a clumsy kind of laughter. “Oh, yeah, haha, okay,” you say, half-absentmindedly, reaching up toward the cupboard where you’ve been told the pancake syrup is. (And, to your absolute horror, realizing that the entirety of that cupboard is filled with syrup bottles. How much does a house of 12 need?!) You place it on the table and step back.
You don’t know what distracts you and keeps your eyes on him as he eats…but since you won’t dare ask yourself, you sit with the insecurity that settles at the bottom of your stomach: that he’s eating something that’s half-assed, something you could have made better; that he’s eating something you’ve made, and it had to be those semi-charcoal pancakes.
—not that he can taste whatever burnt (or not-burnt) bits there are with the sheer amount of syrup he’d poured onto the plate.
“What the f—,” you say, pausing at the last syllable, unable to continue. Perhaps it was for the better that he had thrown in an absolute tsunami worth of syrup onto the charred pancakes, but still…
He looks up at you with eyes posing a challenge. You can nearly hear his voice saying, have something to say about it? And you’re a smart person, at least to some degree, you’d like to think, so you don’t take it: just watch him finally close the bottle and begins to slice his meal. The pancakes are so drenched it drips syrup all the way from when he lifts a piece up from the plate to when he finally puts it in his mouth.
But, oh.
The small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart stop.
Oh, ever so serious Theo, frown eternally sketched onto his face–is all it takes to get him to loosen up a small stack of burnt pancakes drowned in a stroke-inducing amount of syrup?
And just as you’re about to look away–staring any more felt like invading into a space that wasn’t your own, like he was having some sort of private moment with his diabetes overload pancakes–he wipes off a stray drop of maple syrup that buds at the corner of his lip with a thumb, before cleaning it with his tongue. You pretend not to be entranced.
When he catches you staring, you turn away with a yelp, cheeks burning like the pancakes you were just making.
-
(two.)
Whatever it was that happened in the kitchen that day only seemed to make things worse for your heart whenever Theo is around.
Which annoyed you, if you were to be entirely honest. He was so insufferable, with his stupid smug smirk and the way he acts like he can have control over everything, calling you mutt or bait like nobody’s business… you aren’t supposed to feel good about being more than a little affected by him being around.
And yet you are.
You are, on the day that you catch him in Vincent’s room, going through the canvases stacked by the wall. They’re looking at the artworks talking about current trends in the art scene, and when Theo lets out an unwarranted burst of praise for his brother, Vincent pats him on the head. The little blush on Theo’s cheeks and the shy grin on Theo’s face makes you stop in your tracks, standing at the doorway with a tray of some cake that now looks too bland in comparison to their sweetness.
You are, on the day you join him drinking with Arthur downtown, at a local bar, after a long day of having been teased for his being too blunt, too mean. You don’t know the reason for it (yet) but you know the intentions now, so you’re less intent on needing to soften him, really. (It was only just amusing to see him try so hard.) When Theo “passes” the test, he runs Arthur’s royalties dry by ordering top-shelf and putting it all under the author’s now too-long tab. Theo has a different kind of meanness to the ones he cares about, and you wonder if he knows it shows.
You are, on the days that you join him for work and get to see how his expression changes when he gets in the zones. The wonder that fills his face, lets it glow, the contentment with every completed sale, every satisfied customer, and the young, obscure artists’ otherwise would have been kept away paintings hanging on the lavish walls of patrons. You’re entranced by the stars in his eyes.
You are.
And maybe, you are not just a little affected by him being around.
Not that you’ll tell that to his face.
(Not that he needs you to tell him.)
-
(three.)
The streets of Paris glow with a soft lavender light after the late afternoon shower; the cobblestone streets shimmer in what’s left of the rain. The avenues are unfamiliar, the names just vaguely intelligible with your French. There is much to learn about 19th century Paris, and even if you’ll only be here for a month, you plan to make the most out of it.
So in a way, when you’re out at town, you’re always multitasking. You’re doing a grocery run with Sebastian but also observing the kinds of food there is in the market; the kind of clothes people are wearing; the architecture; the way people talk. You’re with Theo to head to a gallery but you’re memorizing the details around you, burning them into your memory, like you could crystallize them in your mind and bring them with you back home: the uneven cobblestone paths under your low-heeled shoes, the clack clack clack of horseshoes down the street, the rickety sound of wheels, the music playing.
You’re not paying attention to where you’re going, watching someone play a violin for a small crowd of children on the street when you collide against something–warm; someone!–with a muffled “Oof!”
“Pardon!” you call out, only to look up and see who it is. “Oh! Theo.”
“Do you never watch where you’re going in the time you’re from or are you just–”
“Shhh!” You say, a finger against his mouth. In a millisecond you realize how rude it is, so you take it back and hide your guilty hand behind you. “I was just enjoying a little violin. Don’t be so grumpy.”
“Why don’t you go closer and watch, then?”
A pause. “…I should be going back to the mansion,” you say, looking up at the sky dousing the streets in a lovely lavender shade. “I just wanted to listen while I was passing by.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t seem like you want to go home.”
You don’t know what gives you away, but you figure it’s because you’re walking the opposite direction to where the carriages usually are. Besides, Theo always says you’re easy to read. You grin awkwardly up at him. “19th century France is quite interesting…?” you offer by way of explanation.
Theo used to be rather opaque to you, everything hidden behind a light-proof curtain of a façade. But you’d like to say you’re getting better at reading the man, watching his expressions change by minute amounts as he considers something in his head.
He sighs. Rather overdramatically, too. You catch that. “My errands are done for today. I’ll come with you so you can stay out here a little longer.”
France at night is still pretty dangerous, after all. “You will?!” you ask, rather surprised at the generosity. (Though perhaps you shouldn’t be.)
“It’s normal to take your dog for a walk, no?” he quips back, and you jut your tongue out at him in retaliation. It makes him smirk, and that makes you laugh, and so begins your little tour of Paris on foot.
Not that you’re doing so much touring as walking next to Theo as he takes the long route around town through the most interesting bits of it. And not just the famous destinations like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, no, but even the tiny details, down alleys with colorful banners, a lively little cafe–“Aww, too bad that it’s full.” “We can go some other day.” A beat. “Really?!” “…Stop that.”–churches, museums.
You don’t notice time passing by, really, until the streets are deep into darkness, the sky a beautiful indigo littered with stars. You walk two steps behind Theo, looking upwards to the heavens. You don’t notice when he stops walking until you bump shoulders with him.
“Whoops,” is all you can muster, as he looks at you with a kind of condescending look.
“You should really watch where you’re going, god knows where you might end up in,” he says drily, and you don’t know if he’s talking about you ending up in this century in the first place or something else. You don’t get the chance to ask him about it though, because he takes your hand in his, now, while you’re walking along the riverside, like an adult would hold onto a child, or maybe, perhaps, possibly, you don’t dare hope, could be, like a lover would…
You get so distracted by the warmth of his palm in yours, feeling the heat like summer sunlight seep in the crevices of your bones that were longing for home, that you barely feel the chill of incoming rain.
-
(four.)
To others, Theo seems invulnerable. No gaps in his armor, the one he wears every day, in front of everyone he meets. But eventually you know better than that.
Kintsukuroi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery—you take the shattered pieces and put them back on with lacquer dusted with gold. The sites of breakage no longer a site of shame, but instead places one proudly carries; becoming even more precious, even more treasured now that it has gone through the act of having come apart, to come back together.
Moonlight pierces through the windows, silver on the floor of the atelier, illuminating Theo’s sleeping form. In your mind, you see where the golden veins run.
-
(five.)
On the night he breaks your heart, you dream of burning.
A flash of lightning strikes a dead tree, setting it bursting into a mesmerizing, orange-yellow flame. Smoke easily climbs out of the trunk, a deep gray that you feel like you’ve seen somewhere else, felt somewhere else. You stand there across a barren field as the lightning strike–long gone–has left this bundle of tree set ablaze, one which will soon be ashes.
It smells like fire everywhere.
The thing is, fire doesn’t really smell like anything–though it does smell like what it’s burning. Wood, fuel, dried paint.
Flowers.
When you wake up, you are cold, the other half of the bed is empty, and the sun hasn’t risen.
You pray it is all just a dream, but don’t dare go back to sleep, just lie there with a lifetime of what ifs tucked underneath your pillow, framed by your hair.
--
But that’s okay.
Because Theo can show you the worst of him, but you know better.
Because you've seen the best in him. 
Because Theo is a tsunami of syrup on burnt pancakes.
Because Theo is low, cruel laughter laced with love.
Because Theo is walking around Paris in the late afternoon.
Because Theo is dreaming of sunrise: even when the night is darkest right before it.
And one day, you’ll wake up in bed with Theo by your side the day after the door has closed on the both of you. The streets of Paris will glow with a soft lavender light in the early dawn. The both of you will be tucked in familiar-smelling sheets, that distinctly-Theo scent that makes you feel home. On that day, there will be no turning back. On that day, there is only now and forever. And it’ll be messy like his hair sticking up in odd places and the remnant of drool white against the corner of your mouth, but it will be warm, the embrace of Theo’s arms around your torso, like he’s holding you together the way you have built him back from his broken pieces, and it will be sweet, much sweeter than anything you’ve ever tasted your entire life.
It will be worth it.
An eternity of syrup-flavored kisses shared over breakfast.
--
in the atelier: quai de la seine, edouard cortes
Tumblr media
31 notes · View notes
readywhorenot · 3 years
Text
Anything & Everything
Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x bitchass!gn!reader
Word count: .9k
Content: angst, toxic behaviors, cheating, allusions to NSFW content
A/N: i do not condone cheating in the slightest!!! please never do this to anyone. on the flip side, if anyone cheats on you, put yourself first and hire me as a hitwoman get out of that relationship please. also this is not proofread lol so i’ll probably edit it later and rb.
Yamaguchi would do anything for you.
You first noticed that he took a liking to you in your second year of high school, when he gained the courage to begin showering you with the praise he’d kept on the tip of his kind tongue since middle school.
“You look good today! Did you do something new with your hair?”
You would nod, internally flustered because finally someone noticed that you tried out the new flat iron you bought. Muttering a thank you, the conversation would end.
Until you started returning the praise, telling Yamaguchi that his freckles had darkened ever so slightly because of longer days under the beating sun. You only noticed because the constant blush he sported whenever you were around, his cheeks no longer masked the splatter across his face.
At first he’d look at you bewildered, your words going in the opposite direction than intended. Noticing this, you’d reassure him that his freckles were cute, and you helped him forget all of the taunts from his past.
That’s when he really fell hard. He began to up the ante too, to show you that he was enamored beneath your presence. Every snack he had, he shared with you. If you both walked past the school vending machine, he’d be opening his coin pouch, digging through months worth of allowances just to buy you something.
At first it was endearing, a semblance of the growing devotion bubbling inside him. The thoughtful dates, him doting on you every chance he could, following you around like a lost puppy on a tight leash- it all was perfect. You had him right where you wanted him.
Having someone to give you every second of their attention and on their knees at your command soon morphed into him being superglued tightly around your dangerous finger. The power trip was exhilarating, knowing that he’d do anything you’d ask. The thought of leaving never once crossing his mind, his mind only filled with visions of you.
So when you start showing up later than usual to your shared apartment, it’s no surprise that he insists on taking your coat after greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. Every night, you’re met with higher intensity care. He’s groveling, you can tell, but for what? You're not acting any different toward him.
That’s what good cheaters do, right? When you’re done raking the blonde’s scalp, legs shaking around his chiseled torso while he pounds into you for the third time that week, you kind of need to have good acting skills when you come home to your fiancé.
But there’s a reason you don’t work for Hollywood. When Tadashi hugs you after you step through the door, the wafting of his best friend’s cologne only adds another crack to the existing ones which line his fatigued heart. He hugs you tighter, as if you’re not already gone from him.
When he takes you by the waist to the dinner table, it’s like a routine. Every night dinner is already set, most of the food being cold from being on stand by until you arrive home. You can hear the grumbling of his stomach, but he refuses to take a bite until you do.
Reluctantly, you pierce the steamed vegetables with your fork and lead it to your tongue. It’s difficult to eat when Kei already gave you a feast of his own just an hour ago. The ever observant Tadashi doesn’t miss the hesitant movements of your jaw. The broccoli must be bland compared to the salty aftertaste still coating the back of your tongue.
Only eating about half of what he cooked for you, he sighs when he takes your plate with his to the kitchen sink, “Are you feeling ok, dear?”
He knows the answer. He knows you’re probably feeling real content after coming undone more than once beneath his closest friend. He isn’t surprised in the slightest to hear your reply, “I’m just fine, babe!”
“Glad to hear it,” He turns to smile at you, pearly teeth gritting together. His eyes are squeezed shut, mainly to hold back any sign of agony that could shine across his glassy orbs. He scrubs the plates harder than usual, which goes unnoticed by you from the sound of your toes cracking the floorboards as you climb the stairs.
The water drizzling from the nozzle of the showerhead overpowers the sound of pacing from outside the bathroom door. He wonders if he should go in, even though he’ll probably confirm his suspicions. You slide your silk shirt down your shoulder and it sticks to the damp floor. Reeling back the shower curtain, it hisses at you.
Tadashi opens the door, stripping himself of his work attire to join you under the blazing waterfall. Giving himself a nod in the mirror for encouragement, he climbs inside the porcelain abyss. You hum, acknowledging his presence when he pulls your hips against his. He brings his lips to your shoulder.
They’re swollen, cracked, and blistered from all the nervous picking he’s abused them with. He presses his mouth to the dark bruise at the crook of your neck, the bruise he never gave you. He gives it a peck, all of his worst nightmares dawning as a reality.
You lean into his touch, bringing your slimy, shampoo cover hands to his hair, which is still dry for the most part. You knead his moistening locks, just as you did hours before to dryer, shorter, thinner, light golden hair.
Yamaguchi realizes he’d do anything for you, something you registered long before he even made you his. And now that you've slipped away from him, he realizes that maybe he’ll just have to do everything- even if it means sharing.
19 notes · View notes
lovemesomesurveys · 3 years
Text
survey by l-baby
When was the last time you went out to eat? Where did you go? Last year before the pandemic and quarantine hit I went to Denny’s with my mom and brother.
Who was your last e-mail from? From one of the stores I’m subscribed to get emails from, likely Boxlunch or Hot Topic.
Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial? Back when I was a kid at like midnight most channels just like cut off and only showed informercials until the morning, which really sucked if you couldn’t sleep. So, if I was sick or something and up during the middle of the night that’s all there was to watch.
What are your plans for tonight? My usual nighttime routine that I’ve discussed many times before.
When was the last time you had an alcoholic drink? Almost 10 years ago.
Look to your left and down, what do you see? My bed.
Could you go for a nap right about now? It’s 12:47AM, it’d be going to bed if I went to sleep now.
Do you ever watch the Food Network channel? I used to sometimes, but it’s been awhile.
Have you taken a shower today? No.
Are you in a relationship? If so, who are they and do you love them? No.
Do you like cheese? I love cheese.
What did you do yesterday? Same things I do everyday.
What's the weather like today? It’s currently 55F.
Do you like rap? Yeah.
What is your current myspace song? Would you say that you give good advice? I used to be the one people came to for advice about various things, but I definitely wouldn’t recommend asking me for advice now. No one probably would cause they can see I’m an absolute mess and should be the one getting help.
Are you any good at cooking? I only cook ramen.
What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich? Bologna or turkey and salami.
Have you ever been in a competition? Yes. I participated in some wheelchair races and other activities as a kid.
Do you like onion? I like onion rings.
How about mushrooms? No.
What is the best thing about your cell phone? I like everything about my iPhone.
Do you tend to cave into peer pressure? No.
Do you think it's attractive for a man to wear eyeliner? I don’t care. I did used to really be into that look, though, back when I was 15/16 in my emo days.
| Either Or | Spicy or Bland? Well, I can’t eat spicy food but that doesn’t mean my only other option is bland. I like flavor.
Diet Soda or Regular Soda? Regular.
Smoothie or Milkshake? Both are good, but I rarely drink either one. It’s been a few years since I’ve had either one of those. I have actually been wanting a banana milkshake or smoothie lately, though.
Sweet or Sour? Sweet. I hate hate hate sour foods. <<< Sameee.
Clean or Dirty? Uh, clean.
Slow or Busy? Slow.
Big or Small? That really depends on what it is.
Shower or Bath? Shower.
Cold or Hot? Cold.
Short or Tall? I’m short, but I prefer tall.
| More Questions | What did you have for dinner last night? Leftover pizza.
Do you pray often? No. :/ I really need to.
Name three things you've done today: Well, it’s barely 1AM so I haven’t done much so far except some surveys and catching up on some YouTube videos.
Would your friends say you are a understanding person? I think people would say that about me.
Are you close to either one of your parents? I’m closer to my mom.
Do you know anyone who snores when they sleep? Yes.
Are your lips currently dry? Ugh, yes.
Are your nails long or short? They’re barely even there. 
Have you ever gotten food poisoning? Yes. Not fun.
Would you say that you are emotionally strong? No.
What messenger services do you use? I don’t really use them, but I have Facebook Messenger and the messenger on here.
What is your favorite pair of shoes? My Adidas.
Do you change your myspace page often? Are you listening to music currently? No, I’m listening to an ASMR video.
2 notes · View notes
scaryscarecrows · 4 years
Text
Kindred Spirit
AN: Warning for mentions of dog fighting. Nothing graphic, because Jason killed everybody.
The Dog (Lemon, even if not named here) is modelled after one of my own dogs (nothing bad has ever happened to Edgar, don’t worry) in ‘breed’. 
CAVEAT EMPTOR: I am not a vet, nor have any animals I owned ever had severe injuries; Jason’s Beginner Dog Care is what I’ve done upon obtaining a stray dog/dealing with doggy illnesses/caring for a dog that had knee surgery. Seek a professional for your own situation! <3
* * *
The two types of cases Jason hates the most are ones with kids and animals. He feels for the adult victims, but, well, that guy that tried to steal fear toxin for his own gains and got turned into one of Richardson’s lobotomized zombies? That’s on him. He made poor choices. Kids, though, they haven’t done anything, and animals never will, and…
Those are the ones that keep him up at night, that’s all.
This one isn’t even one of the worst. It’s still awful, but it was a small-time dog fighting ring rather than one of the big ones. Most of the animals can probably be rehabilitated. The owners...well…
So he got a little overzealous with a machete he found outside. He doubts people will care. He was going to be nicer, but he had to rescue a bait dog and there wasn’t time to do his usual sass-and-dance routine. Those fuckers were gonna--
It doesn’t matter what they were gonna do. They didn’t, and that’s what matters.
The dog in question is curled, whimpering, in a corner. It-she, that was a mama dog at some point-has a messed up leg. She’s a big girl, dirty and jowly, looks like she’s got some pit in her. Jesus…
He should go. The cops will be here soon and they’re not friends. But...it’s just…
It’s dumb. He knows it’s dumb. But damn if he doesn’t feel some sorta kindred connection with the dog in the corner. And they might not even try to take her, with her leg like that, and her face is torn in places, and…
He drops the machete, opens up his helmet, and crouches down a few feet away. He’s got time. 
“Hey, baby girl,” he says gently, pitching his voice to be heard over the hellish barking. “Hey-hey, sweetheart…”
He’s not sure what to do. It won’t be her fault if she bites him, but that’s still not appealing. Okay...he knows how to make a cloth muzzle, that won’t hurt her and maybe…
He rips a strip of cloth from one of the bastard’s shirts-least he can do is make himself useful in death-and makes his way over, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. 
“I’m not gonna hurt ya, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna help, okay? But I gotta make sure you don’t bite me, huh? There’s a good girl, just be still…”
She licks his fingers. He doesn’t start crying, but it’s a near thing.
He hates animal cases…
“There we go, sweetheart. There we go. I’m gonna pick ya up, okay, baby? We’re gonna go someplace they’re gonna fix ya up, it’s okay, you’re a good girl…”
She’s a big girl, but Jason’s picked up bigger. Okay. No skylight. At least these sorry bastards set up shop in town, rather than on the outskirts.
“Okay, baby,” he says. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
* * *
He intends to deposit her safely at the animal clinic a few blocks from his apartment, say good-bye, and tell himself she got adopted by a nice home with two point five kids or whatever. What happens is that he gives them his current number, says he’ll take her until she’s better, and spends the next hour finding an all-night store with pet supplies.
In hindsight, he should have gone home and changed. But that ship has sailed, which is why he’s standing in the pet aisle at Goth-Mart, in full Red Hood gear, pushing a tiny cart, at three in the damn morning.
Um. What now.
Okay. Okay, okay. Dogs gotta eat, right? Right--aw, shit, there’s varieties? Dry, wet, refrigerated...you gotta be kidding.
Google says a bland cooked food might be his better bet. He throws a bag of kibble into the cart anyway, figures he’ll get some chicken before he leaves, and keeps going. Okay, okay, leash, leash is good, and a collar-his apartment might be in a crappy part of town, but it is clean and he’s not about to lock her in the bathroom forever-uh...toys! Toys. Dogs like bones, probably, or maybe a squeaky toy? No balls, she can’t run. Erm...that is a Batman plush toy. It even looks like him, judgemental chin and all.
A grinchy grin spreads over his face. Squeaky Batman goes into the cart.
He’s gazing at what looks like an endless amount of treats when there’s a shadow at his elbow and a wary voice asks, “Finding everything okay?”
No. No, he is not. And he’s not Bruce, he is asking for help.
“I ended up with a dog,” he says, turning slowly and carefully. “She’s had a pretty rough start in life, and she’s hurt, so…”
“Any allergies?”
“I have no idea.”
“Hmm.” Apparently they’re not worried he’s going to body-slam them into the grimy tiles, because they come closer. “Well, my guys love these things.” Liver treats? Blech. “They stink, but hey.”
You know what, fine.
“I’ll try ‘em. Hey, do you guys have dog beds? She won’t be able to get up on mine, but I don’t want her to be stuck on the carpet, and--”
“On the back wall.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure thing! If you need anything else, just ask.”
* * *
He’s still not sure why he went with the seventy-five dollar bed with sides and the fancy stuffing. Whatever. He did, and he had to do some rearrangement of his bedroom furniture, but it fits.
What? If she needs him, he wants to be there quickly, rather than having to remember that oh, yeah, there’s a dog in my kitchen.
Why aren’t they calling? Shit, nothing’s gone wrong, right? They said they were pretty sure--but shit happens and--
His phone rings. Twenty minutes later, he’s walking into the clinic to meet with the mild-mannered vet that took her initially.
“We set her leg, stitched her face up,” he says. “She’s hardy. She has been bred before--”
“I figured.”
The vet nods.
“She’s also suffering some malnutrition. I’d recommend a bland diet for a week or two before introducing regular dog food.” Ah, Google came through for him. “Keep her warm and off that leg, but if she wants to get up and move around, she can if you’re there to support her. Try to keep her down, though.”
“Will do.”
“Okay. I’m gonna send you home with a week’s worth of pain medication for her, and a ‘scrip for more, but I’d like to see her back next Friday-ish to see how she’s doing.”
“I can do that. Thanks for, um, I know this is kind of short notice, but I didn’t…” He sighs. “There were a lotta dogs there and I didn’t know if they’d even bother with her.”
“Hm.” The man’s lip curls. “You said she was a bait dog?”
“I think so.”
“Some people are scum...c’mon back. She’s probably a little groggy, but she should be awake.”
‘Groggy’ is not the word he’d use; the dog’s high as a damn kite, bug-eyed and a little drooly. She’s clean, though; turns out she’s a gray dog. Her ears are cropped-shitty job, looks like-and there’s stitches going across her nose to her right cheek. Her leg’s in a pink cast, and when she sees him, her tail starts going.
“Hey, baby,” he says, reaches out a hand for her to sniff. “You ready to get outta here?” The tail smacks the bars of the crate. Christ. He’s suddenly so glad he got that seventy-five dollar dog bed. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”
THE END
31 notes · View notes
walteinsamkeit · 4 years
Text
Home
Alright, here it finally is. I worked on this for half a year and I’m happy with how it turned out. It’s a little fic told from Hosea’s point of view taking place during the days before the gang, when it was just Dutch, Arthur and him. Plenty of love, tenderness and Vandermatthews. I hope that whoever reads this will enjoy it! Summary: Before there was the Van der Linde gang, there was a family.  Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 5048 Characters: Hosea Matthews, Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan Warnings: None
The day was beginning to wind down when Hosea found himself on the road back home, swept past the fields of the Heartlands with the lingering warmth of a watery sunset on his back. Twilight was laid out on the horizon in velvety pastels, dripping like soft watercolors between the pines and over the distant mountaintops, soaking the world in evening blue.
Home, for a while now, had been a little cabin near Strawberry. Two bedrooms and a living space, not much more; they had found it abandoned one day while looking for shelter and decided to settle in for the time being, needing a place to stay for a while. That had everything to do with the boy they had taken in recently. Arthur was his name; barely seventeen years old and already bearing a lifetime of tragedy on his shoulders. His mother had died young and his father, a petty criminal, had been killed before his eyes, leaving him an orphan at age eleven.
With the addition of someone new to their odd little “family” of two came the responsibility of establishing some sort of much-needed structure in the boy’s life. It hadn’t been easy to get through to him at first, but with patience and gentle persistence they had eventually managed to lure him out of his shell.
Gaining his trust was an ongoing process, but Arthur’s evident gratefulness made up for the occasional struggles they faced. And there were many things in the boy’s upbringing they had to catch up on. They taught him how to read and how to hunt; how to ride a horse and how to shoot a gun proper, and were pleasantly surprised to find him taking up an interest in sketching the world he saw around him in a little notebook they’d gifted him for the first birthday he spent with them.
Additionally, they too found themselves learning plenty new things through caring for him. They took turns in taking care of the household and heading out to provide for them. It wasn’t as easy as they had premeditated, requiring plenty of mental gymnastics to make things work out sometimes, and they didn’t have much, but these were happy times. He came to realize this every day again when he watched Dutch and Arthur go about their day, unaware of his loving gaze, and thought about how lucky he was to have been blessed with something so good and true without as much as ever having asked for it.
It wasn’t long before a small, unassuming little house came into sight between the trees in the distance. The lights behind the windows glowed warm and welcoming as he turned away from the road and let his horse trot up to the front porch.
It was a small house, Hosea thought to himself as he neared the cabin; but it was a good house - their house. A house he shared with the two people he considered his only family in this world. Two people that he would, always and unconditionally, love for the rest of his life.
He hitched his horse out front and gave her a pat on the neck along with some hay before turning to head inside.
“Hello, boy.”
Arthur looked up from his book at the sound of his voice, meeting his gaze across the room with the usual inscrutable expression.
“Hello sir.”
Closing the door behind himself to shut out the cold Hosea glanced around the room, sniffing out the hearty smell of supper, and finding it simmering on the stove.
“Is that yours?” He asked in surprise, wandering over to check on the pots on the fire.
Arthur shook his head. “Dutch is cooking...”
“What? Poison?”
“I heard that, Hosea.”
Dutch emerged from the backroom with a can of peas in his hand and a grin on his face. They shared a fond look that lasted a couple seconds until Dutch spoke up again.
“You’re back.”
“In one piece,” Hosea confirmed with a nod, turning to face him.
“How was it?”
“Ah, same old, same old. They never suspect a thing until you’re long gone. I was halfway back down the road towards Valentine by the time they realized what’d happened, as per usual.” He watched as Dutch made his way over to the stove, opening up the can and adding the contents to what appeared to be a pot of stew.
“Oh, I know it,” he said, giving the thing a thorough stir. “Those folks are so easy to steal from. One would feel guilty for not helping them get rid of some of that extra weight they’re carrying in their pockets.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Hosea agreed with a chuckle, turning away to head over to the table.
“Arthur here shot his first deer today,” Dutch announced with an almost motherly hint of pride in his voice as he focused his attention on the food cooking on the furnace again.
“Really now?” Taking his gun belt and satchel off he set it down on the table, opening it up to rummage through its contents. Starting to bring out the stacks of dollar bills he had procured, he leafed through them before neatly organizing them on the table top, straightening them out.
“How did that go for you, son?”
“Just fine I guess,” Arthur answered, his finger pausing along the lines of his book as he looked up from the page again, swiftly meeting Hosea’s gaze with those gentle blue eyes. “Dutch said hunting would be a good way to contribute to the household. Would take some weight off your shoulders too if I’d try taking care of the food. Or the part of finding it, at least.”
“Right, I see. That is a great idea. So, that is what you’re suddenly going all out for, hm? Dutch?” He shot him a glance from the corner of his eye, amused. “Soon enough we’ll have a real kitchen princess on our hands.”
“Do I hear a complaint?”
“No, no, I don’t think so.” Hosea shook his head with a chuckle.
Dutch paused for a moment, completely absorbed with his tireless perfectionism; then spoke again.
“I figured I might as well. I was getting sick of all the bland, tasteless grub we’ve been living off of, so I’m broadening my horizons a little. Besides, it’s a special occasion, ain’t it? You’ll always remember your first deer. I do.” He shrugged nonchalantly, glancing back over his shoulder. “Son, will you go and set the table? Dinner’s almost ready.”
With a creak of his chair Arthur rose to his feet, setting his book aside and heading over to the cabinet to bring out the plates.
As he passed him by Hosea couldn’t help but reach out and pat him on the shoulder encouragingly, earning him a smile that was little more than a faint curve to the corner of his lips, but it was honest.
It was good to see how Arthur had steadily been beginning to show more of himself lately in the care of Dutch and him. They did their best to offer him what they could - that not being a simple task in their case. A couple of outlaws trying to raise a boy together. The two of them being men, at that. But they got by. They made do with what they had and made up for what they didn’t in support and attention.
“And?” Dutch’s voice interrupted his train of thought as the younger man appeared at his sides with his hands on his hips. Curiously, he picked up one of the wads of cash, leafing the bills through his fingers just like Hosea had done moments earlier.
“Around a couple hundred dollars, I’d say. Maybe more. A pretty good catch. More than I expected to get out of this, frankly. I didn’t even try too hard.” Setting his satchel aside he gathered the money, taking back the banknotes that Dutch handed him, and moving them out of the way to make room for their plates and cups. “Either we’re getting smarter or they’re getting dumber.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dutch stated, moving to the kitchen to take the stew off the cooktop and carry it over to the dinner table. “To the victor the spoils, Hosea. What matters is that we’re still pulling it off. Now, take off your coat and have a seat. It’s been a long day. I bet we’re all hungry.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he nodded, shrugging off his coat and pulling out a chair to sit down across from Arthur, who’d already settled in his place again, moving his cutlery around while he waited.
“Of course I’m right,” Dutch said, with that smug grin of his that Hosea couldn’t help but shake his head at in amusement as he watched him dish out their food.
“Mhm,” he hummed, pursing his lips. “Of course you are. How could I forget? You’re as stubborn as a woman, Dutch van der Linde.”
“You best be careful now, mister Matthews,” he pointed at him with the ladle, raising a brow. “You’d be ill-advised to antagonize me now that I’m learning how to cook something half decent.”
“You wouldn’t kill me.”
“I might. Ain’t made up my mind quite yet. Night is still young. Would you like some tea?”
“Chamomile, if we’ve got any.”
“Me too, Dutch. Please,” Arthur spoke up, seemingly almost embarrassed by his request, nudging his empty mug. Hosea and Dutch - they shared a subtle glance across the table without a word.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’ll get some too, son. Don’t worry, we’re not forgetting about you. Ain’t nobody gonna forget about you no more,” Dutch gently reassured him, turning around to head back over to the stovetop and fetch their steaming tea kettle, adding some chamomile flowers from a fresh-picked bunch hung to dry before returning to the table with it.
“Thank you. I could really use a cup. Been looking forward to one all afternoon.” Hosea ran a hand through his hair, scooting his chair a little closer to the table before picking up his spoon. “So, apart from cooking, what have you been up to?”
“The usual.” Dutch nudged at a piece of venison on his plate with scrutinizing stare, not entirely pleased with the outcome, or so Hosea deducted. It was hard to please Dutch, even when you were Dutch.
“Is that so... No trouble, I hope?” He quipped, sending a wink over to Arthur across the table, who answered with a little smile.
“Without you? You know me better than that, dear friend. Now eat up, before it goes cold.”
“Right. Arthur - will you say Grace for us? You’re the one who brought home the food today,” he offered.
A silence followed. The young man was visibly taken aback a little by the request for a good few moments, blinking long lashes under the golden light, his lips parted in mute confusion.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t feel comfortable. One of us can do it,” Hosea added.
“No, sir, I’d like to. I just... I don’t think I’m any good at that kinda thing.”
“You’ve heard us do it plenty times before. You’ll be just fine, I know it.” Dutch reached out to put his hand over Arthur’s, giving it a slight pat. “Go ahead. No need to be shy.”
Locking gazes with Hosea again, Arthur raised his brows, as if looking for some kind of permission, or perhaps, for reassurance.
Hosea only nodded.
“Go ahead, son.”
At that, Arthur scooted forward in his chair, clearing his throat, just a tad nervous. The boy hadn’t been exactly raised religious by his late father, and although neither of them cared particularly about religion, they had wanted to do right by him. To instill some morals and values in the young man they took under their wings, if only symbolically so. To teach him to be thankful and humble. And so far, Hosea thought they were doing a wonderful job.
“Alright, well...” He started, a little hesitant as he looked down at his plate, gingerly folding his hands against the edge of the table. “Father, thank You for, uh... For providing, for us. And for the warmth of the sun and the refreshment of water. And for all other things good. Like... The Fall, and the harvest. And the blessing of food with loved ones. Thank you, Lord. Amen.”
“That’s it. Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Dutch smiled at him.
“Nicely done, Arthur.” Hosea reached over to pick up the kettle, pouring all of them a steaming cup of tea. “Well, let’s eat then. Enjoy your meal.”
“Likewise,” Dutch added before he began to eat.
“And you,” Arthur mumbled, digging into his stew.
For a fleeting moment Hosea couldn’t help but watch him; observe that perpetual childish innocence in him that guided every clumsy movement, limbs too long for his torso, too old to be a boy and too young to be a man - he was balancing on the ever-awkward line right in between, where everything changes overnight and yet remains the same in many other ways. He looked almost out of place sitting at a table and eating from a plate and drinking from a cup. In such stark contrast to Dutch’s poise, Dutch’s straight posture; his sharp tongue and even sharper gaze and the purpose in his every movement.
They weren’t so far apart in age. His partner was twenty-four now. He had six years on Arthur and yet Hosea could barely begin to imagine Dutch as anything other than what he was and had been ever since the day they first met along the road to Chicago. Strong and determined and idealistic, and as much a father figure to Arthur as he was. Of course, he had grown. He was more responsible now; a little more down-to-earth than he had been back then - a tireless dreamer with his head up in the clouds.
But deep down, he was still the same. In him, Hosea could still see that boy, not yet quite a man even if he had come off age. A stargazer. A philosopher. A lover.
For a while they sat and ate in silence, quietly content in the warmth and the safety of their simple home, the sound of the wind whispering through the high grass and the trees outside, and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.
It wasn’t quite like the camps Dutch and him used to set up when they moved around. They’d sleep under the stars and wash up in the river and cook dinner over the campfire, and when a new wind rose, they packed up what little possessions they had and followed it down to where it would lead them.
First and foremost, the two of them were opportunists who lived off luck. There was artistry in their craft; a kind of poetry in the way they went about executing their plans. Crime was an art. And Dutch; a virtuoso. The young man with the sun tucked away in his chest - he spoke of wonderful things; freedom, liberty, love. His dreams and his wishes and the beliefs he cherished despite being told he was nothing but a delusional fool.
For hours Hosea could listen to that honeyed voice spilling whispers in the halflight, like secrets meant for his ears only, about a vision of the future where they would have the world. And he let himself be swept away by the sweet promises willingly.
When Dutch was good he was great, and when he was great he was a small calamity; a one-man forest fire that would stop at nothing in its path, and burn all throughout the night and well into the morning. His passion and his idealism; the romance and the beauty he saw in everything wherever he went - it had managed to captivate him years ago and never let him go.
Dutch van der Linde, with his eyes of brandy; crowned with soft, shiny whorls of black hair framing his face. He must have been the embodiment of every mother’s cautionary tale.
“What’s on your mind, Hosea?” Dutch broke the silence after a while, observing him calmly from his side of the table. Nothing ever went by him unnoticed.
Hosea just shook his head along with a slight shrug. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I was just... Thinking.”
His words were met by an inquisitive tilt of his head.
Leaning back into his chair, he looked at the scene before him, keeping quiet for a moment - the three of them at the table together - an unconventional little family, but a good one. A warm one. A loving one.
“I’m... Happy,” he then finally decided with a nod, meeting Dutch’s gaze once again.
The other man smiled, slowly looking down at his plate as he thought for a moment before giving his answer. “I’m happy, too.”
Reaching under the table, Hosea gently nudged at Dutch’s hand, and the other answered his touch as if by instinct, their fingers tangling together with a soft squeeze for just a moment.
“Arthur, would you like some more stew?” Dutch then asked, casually, leaning over to stir the pot with his free hand. “We still got some left.”
“No sir, thank you - I’m full.” He politely declined, shaking his head as he dropped his hands into his lap and sat back. “I think I may just... Hit the hay early tonight. I’m beat.”
“You worked hard today. You just see what you do.” He began to rise to his feet, reaching to collect their empty plates, but Hosea was quicker.
“Let me take care of that, Dutch. You both done did enough for today. Sit a while,” he assured him, gently putting his hand over the one that was already holding onto the plate.
“I got it. Leave it to me.”
Dutch stared back at him in surprise a moment, and then finally relented, pulling back.
“Alright. Arthur, shall you and I play a game of dominoes before you head off to bed, then?”
The boy looked up, seemingly hesitating for a moment as he uneasily rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t know, Dutch... I’d love to, but… Games ain’t exactly my strong suit.”
“Then I’ll help you. C’mon, get the box out. Where did we put it away last time?”
Hosea watched as the two began rummaging through the room together, finally locating the box in the bookcase, and as they set up to play their game of dominoes, Hosea rolled up his sleeves and got to cleaning the dishes gathered in the sink.
It wasn’t much work, and he had the pleasure of being able to listen in on the brown noise of their conversation in the background. As they sat around the table, and played, and drank the remainder of their tea, he couldn’t help but glance back at them over his shoulder occasionally, smiling at the sight; Dutch’s patience with Arthur and the joy he managed to inspire in him with his words of encouragement - that boy was gonna be just fine, Hosea mused while calmly humming a song under his breath.
As long as they were together, he would always have someone to talk to and a shoulder to lean on. A place to call home.
Once the cleaning had been taken care of - the dishes returned to their cabinets and the cutlery to its drawer - he rejoined them at the table, picking up the book he had been reading in the past week or so: John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty, which Dutch, vocally passionate about the work, had borrowed to him upon completing his own reading of it.
Evenings like these, where all three of them were together - they always passed so swiftly and could never last long enough for him. Domestic and unhurried, they idly spent their time on the simple little pleasures that were card games or warm cups of coffee. Especially now that Fall had arrived, and the days were swiftly growing longer and darker, they found themselves staying in much more frequently than they did during the summer months, seeking out each other’s company on cold and rainy evenings. It was a simple comfort, having a home to return to at the end of a hard day’s work, and the sight of it in the distance - of that peaceful little cabin quietly slumbering between the trees - it never failed to fill him with a profound sense of satisfaction and a heartfelt happiness.
The warm touch of a hand placing itself upon his knee drew his attention, and he looked up, gaze fixing on the man seated closest to him.
He sat twisted in his chair and faced him with those big brown eyes of his - unarguably, the greatest source of warmth in the room; even when the fire burned bright and the oil lamps glowed warm and golden, it was his gaze that seemed to chase any kind of darkness away.
“Don’t forget about your tea, ‘Sea. It’ll go cold.”
In the rosy light he looked like a Renaissance painting - a Botticelli angel with life breathed into him by God Himself; the way soft curls fell forward over his ears and framed his face without pomade to keep them fixed securely in place, and for a moment he was completely lost in the sight of him, until, in the background, Arthur began to rise to his feet, and his spell was broken.
“Are you going to bed?”
“I think so,” he yawned, slowly stretching out before running a hand through his tousled hair. “Can’t keep my eyes open any longer.”
“Well, hunting isn’t light work. Go get some rest, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright. I’ll be turning in for the night then, I guess; goodnight, Hosea - Dutch, you too...” And with a little nod of his head he turned around and began heading for his bedroom, pushing his suspenders off of his shoulders with a sigh.
From his peripheral vision, Hosea noticed how Arthur attempted to cast a subtle but lingering glance back over his shoulder at the two men remaining in the room together, the slightest quirk to his brow - the way dogs do when trying to make sense of one thing or another. Then he vanished into his bedroom, and closed the door behind himself.
Of course, Hosea thought to himself amused, barely managing to suppress a snort as he picked up his cup and drank the last of his lukewarm tea. The boy wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to pretend he was. He must have realized at some point; must have noticed by now that there was something profound between the two of them that ran deeper than any devoted friendship he’d ever witnessed before, or the sincere love between brothers. Something enduring and true that Hosea himself in all those years had not quite managed to find the words for.
And Arthur - he never mentioned or questioned anything. Perhaps he simply didn’t care, or, perhaps, he understood. Falling for Dutch the way Hosea had - it wasn’t a choice he had made; it was something that had simply happened to him. To deny it would have meant to lie to his own heart. But nothing good had ever come from refusing to face the truth. Hosea loved him. He loved him, and nothing the world could have told him would have stopped him from doing so.
Falling in love with Dutch had never been a choice. But loving him was. And if life would be kind enough, he wished to do so for the rest of his days.
For a short while after Arthur had left them, there was just the distinct rustle of him rummaging around as he prepared for bed. Then the room went quiet, and silence settled over the peaceful little cottage once more.
Outside the moon had begun to rise over the open fields that stretched out for miles and miles, and the silvery grass whispered in the evening breeze that had picked up, rustling through the leaves on the trees that had begun to take on the color of a hundred blazing shades of auburn. It stirred the flames in the hearth, humming low in the chimney - a bourdon note that reminded him of the childhood he spent far up in the mountains - the way the wind hummed him to sleep, howling among the snow-covered peaks while he slept safe and warm through many a winter storm.
Hosea glanced aside at Dutch, who sat staring pensively into the fire, comfortably curled in his chair. His breathing was low; chest rising and falling steadily as he pensively drew his thumb across his bottom lip, and he could tell by his slow, languid blinking; the way his dark lashes fell upon his cheeks, and lingered just long enough to betray a sleepy innocence in the otherwise so alert young man, that the glowing warmth and the satisfaction of a full stomach had began to make him drowsy.
He couldn’t help but smile, his heart softening at the sight of his lover, unaware of his admiring gaze. It wasn’t often he managed to catch Dutch in a moment of vulnerable unawareness. These moments were like sunrises to him; something to be enjoyed in silence, delightful in their fleetingness.
At times, he wished he could draw like their Athur could; wished he could capture these divine moments and preserve them before they would be gone forever - passing in the blink of an eye. Luckily, he had a good memory. It was hardly a challenge to call the sight of him to mind. He knew every curve and every edge of his form. The healthy glow of pink on his cheekbones, the color of a blushing dawn; the shimmer of gold on his collarbones when the sunlight kissed his skin damp from working; the sable curls of his hair splayed out on his pillow, spread around his head like an aureole as the night faded into morning.
Only after a long moment of quietly observing him did Hosea finally move, leaning over as he reached out a hand, and lightly brushed his knuckles over his cheek, up to his temple. The caress stirred Dutch awake from his drowse, and he raised up his head as he blinked into the halflight of the room before casting a questioning glance aside at Hosea. He answered with a smile and a shallow shake of his head to let him know everything was alright without breaking the silence between them. That he would let no harm befall him as long as they were together and he was around to watch over him.
It was a promise he’d made him years ago - Dutch, young and anxious, and wary of a future filled with uncertainties and trouble along the way. The world did not look kindly upon people like them, and their love had been, perhaps, a lifetime too early. What if they would drift apart? What if flaws and insecurities would drive a rift between them? What if, one day, they would no longer love each other?
He had kissed him on the head, and drawn him into his embrace as he soothingly spoke to him.
“It’s us together against the world, Dutch. Not us against each other. Don’t you ever forget that.”
And just like he had then, Dutch now reached up to take hold of the hand that rested on his cheek, and pressed it against the side of his face in affection for a few seconds.
“You think too much. Stop worrying about the things that you can’t change,” he had said to him. “Stop living in the past and being afraid of the future. It’s coming, whether you want it or not. That mind of yours… It’s always been your own worst enemy...”
“That is the trouble, Hosea,” he answered, heaving a weary sigh. “Sometimes it’s all the thinking I’ve got available to me. It’s the only thing I can’t run from...”
“Then for the love of God, Dutch - stop trying. Only a fool keeps looking for solutions in the same place he’s previously failed to find any.”
“Are you tired…?” He spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper as their hands, still intertwined, slowly fell down to bridge the space between their seats. The other man hummed in response and shook his head, then answered.
“Just a little.”
“You should get some sleep then. It’s late. You’ve done a lot of work. Tomorrow’s a fine new day...”
”What about you?” Dutch’s head tipped to the side and studied him sleepily from the corners of his eyes. “Aren’t you tired?”
Hosea smiled softly before averting his gaze, pausing a moment before speaking up again.
“I’ll just have a smoke and join you. Scamming folks all day isn’t easy work. The old gray mare ain’t what she used to be.”
“Oh, stop it,” Dutch huffed with a frown as he rose out of his seat and took a step towards him, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head while lovingly combing his fingers through the blonde hair of his lover.
“You’re as sharp and artful as ever.”
“And you’re still just as easy to get a rise out of, my love,” he replied amusedly, gazing up at him with a smirk as Dutch pulled away yawning and began heading over to their bedroom, dismissing him with the wave of a hand.
Hosea watched him walk off with a soft smile before he slowly closed his book and got to his feet to go and fetch his cigarettes, a sigh escaping him.
Yes, it wasn’t much, Hosea thought to himself as he looked around the room while lighting a smoke. The shadows that the dying fire cast quivering on the walls drew his attention to their few belongings lying about; a quiet proof that his loved ones were here, safe and sleeping, and that whatever the future would bring them, tonight was peaceful.
Their house wasn’t big, and neither was their family. But it was good. It was sincere, and warm and loving.
And most importantly, it was theirs.
68 notes · View notes
Text
my youth is gone (and i know it)
Jyn meets an old friend of Saw’s.
*
Jyn feels the woman before she sees her. She’s not sure how; there’s a buzz in the air, in her body. Her necklace burns in the hollow of her throat. Living with Partisans has made her paranoid beyond belief but it’s what keeps her alive. At 14, Jyn still finds herself struggling to discern a friend from a threat. Among the barracks she has acquaintances, but Saw won’t let her stay in one place too long. People tend to gravitate towards her. She thinks he’s afraid they’ll start to follow her instead of him, or maybe he’s scared to be without her too long.
On this day when the woman comes Jyn is in new barracks, scrubbing pots on kitchen duty. Her arms were already sore from training, and trying to clean the burnt bits from the pan worsened the ache.
There was no other training for the day, no missions. She could get away with a rare mid-afternoon nap if she cleaned hard enough.
It was with that thought that the woman came in, and the universe told Jyn to pause.
(read the rest under the cut, or here on ao3)
*
“I was told Saw’s daughter was in here.”
Jyn wanted to clutch the chain around her neck. She squeezed her ragged nails into her palms, trying to feel grounded.
She wasn’t ashamed to be Saw’s daughter; at this point it wasn’t a lie. They weren’t like most families. She wouldn’t call them a family at all really. They’re more like a cohesive unit, a nameless piece of a larger whole that is the Partisans.
Times like these, she wanted her Mama.
“That’s me,” Jyn answered, still scrubbing. She’d wait to turn around, see if it gave her the upper hand.
The woman sighed but kept her voice steady. “How long have you been here?”
“Since I was born.”
“Really?”
Jyn turned now, off-put by the woman’s sarcasm. Purple lekku peeked out of a white robe. The woman’s face stayed shaded but Jyn could see the slope of her orange nose, and expressive eyes.
“Are you a friend of Saw’s?” Jyn asked, refusing to answer more questions about herself. The woman’s eyes looked lost for a moment before they refocused.
“I don’t know anymore. I haven’t seen him yet.”
Alarm bit Jyn; there’s no way a visitor could be in the barracks without Saw knowing. She catalogues the weapons on her: nothing but a small vibroblade in her boot. There’s the pot she’s been manhandling for the past 20 minutes, and a plain cooking knife laid out to dry that could be in reach if she moved strategically.
The woman isn’t openly carrying a weapon. Her arms look strong and she’s taller than Jyn by a head and shoulders, but that didn’t mean anything. What did matter was how Jyn felt…the air moved differently around the woman. It was hard to describe but she just knew this woman could kick her ass. Could kick anyone on base’s ass.
Desperately she allowed herself the time to hope the woman was Saw’s friend and not an Empire villain really good at getting what they want.
“Maybe I could give you my name and we could go from there?”
Jyn nodded.
“I’m Ahsoka.”
“Kestrel.”
Ahsoka didn’t look taken aback by Jyn’s shortness; she did arch an eyebrow, making Jyn wonder if Ahsoka could tell she was lying…
They moved from their standoff in the kitchen to a rickety card table and some wooden chairs Jyn had helped nail back together. The nearby hallway was quiet— normally she’d be able to hear yelling, sometimes laughing, a handful of different languages all smushed together. It was as if everything stopped and mellowed out.
The silence was disconcerting. Jyn tapped her fingers against her seat, the muffled thumps making her feel a little better.
Across from her, Ahsoka took off her cloak. Her lekku were bright purple and white and her markings stood stark against her orange skin. She wore work clothes, breeches that looked like they were for creature riding, and a light linen top. Definitely from off-world. Their current base wasn’t Jyn’s home world but she became familiar with their customs— especially the lack of any kind of transportation that wasn’t walking. Jyn heard other Partisans talk about animals they’d ridden before— blurrgs in the desert, something called tauntauns on a snowy planet. Desolate places usually had creatures. Where they were now had too many trees. Animals here hid from danger, which mean they hid from all the Partisans. Jyn couldn’t blame them.
She lets her curiosity get the best of her.
“You ride banthas?”
“Where I just came from, yeah. Didn’t have time to change.”
“If it’s something important shouldn’t you have just found Saw?”
The woman doesn’t look in a hurry. She’s casually hunched in the chair, elbows on the table and head in her hands. She almost looked like she belonged.
“He’ll be in here soon, I left a note. You know last time I saw him, he didn’t have a child.”
Ahsoka did know she was lying, but she didn’t seem mad. More sarcastic. Searching for an answer she know she won’t get.
She knows more than she’s saying, Jyn thought.
“I haven’t been alive forever,” Jyn chooses to say.
The Togruta’s laughter filled the kitchen. It broke the spell immediately; Jyn recognized insect buzzes again, and the soldiers Ahsoka must’ve tricked sounded boisterous down the hall (not recognizing they were compromised).
Before Ahsoka could say anything, Jyn heard Saw’s heavy footsteps. The laughing and talking stopped. He was saying something; new orders. Extreme workouts, the man-in-charge probably being sent off world on a suicide mission as they speak.
If Ahsoka truly knew Saw, she’d have known she was signing those men’s death sentence once she tricked them.
Her hearing must be good too. Jyn heard her whisper to herself “What did I do…”
Jyn wanted to tell her Saw’s a genius and he’s fucking crazy, she believes in his crazy, this is the only way we can stop the Empire, but the man himself walks into the kitchen, ragged and out-of-breath, and tells Jyn to leave.
*
Saw doesn’t know she’s here, but Ahsoka has too. The two went back to his “office,” which is just his teeny private room, no window, bedroll on the floor and kettle in the corner on the makeshift table. They argued in normal voices, unusual because Saw always thought he was being spied on.
“Don’t hurt your officers. It’s not their fault I got through.”
Jyn heard a harsh intake of breath turn into a rough cough.
“They’ve been trained to resist anything. You got through so it means they need to train more.”
“Not until they die.”
“You still carry around those ideals? They did nothing for you, and they’ll get us all killed. Sacrifices have to be made if the Rebellion plans on defeating the Empire.”
Silence stretched on for minutes. Jyn was scared they noticed her, that Saw would admonish her and make her run around the compound until she was sick.
(She didn’t dare think he’d send her away, like he did with others when they messed up. She was too good, and she always had his back.)
“Who’s the girl Saw?”
Jyn moved herself slightly behind the door to peek through the opening. She only saw Ahsoka’s face and the back of Saw’s head. He gave nothing away—no twitchy movements, no rubbing his neck the way he did when he was liability-drunk and she had to drag him away before he spilled secrets.
“She’s my daughter.”
Ahsoka gave a bland smile; it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Jyn, she’s force sensitive you know.”
Now that got a reaction. Saw sat up straight, hands clenched tight. Jyn too felt panic; she remembered her mother’s last words to her: Trust the Force. Throughout all her life, the changes she’s been through, she tried to obey her Mama. It hurt her to think it was a bad thing.
“Do you think…” Saw trailed off.
“Not a Jedi. But it enough it probably helps her fighting power, even as a child.”
At that moment Ahsoka tilted her head up slightly, shifting her eyes to the door. She knew there was an eavesdropper. Probably knew exactly who it was. Jyn felt rooted to the spot. All she could do was grasp at her necklace, the crystal warm in her palm.
“It’s kyber,” Ahsoka said. Saw was still tense but he acted like that phrase wasn’t a surprise.
“Her mother was a believer,” he replied, starting to move out of his seat. At that moment Jyn realized she needed to go anywhere else. She took one more look at Ahsoka, who had draped her cloak back over her lekku, memorizing her face in case she ever saw her again. She hadn’t decided if she was 100% a friend, but she spoke casually with Saw and that counted for something.
Jyn ran slunk down the hall, not quite running but bouncing quick off her toes. The crystal got hotter for a moment as it bounced against her chest.
Kyber… Jyn had never heard of it before. She wondered if it was important. She wondered if her mother knew anything about it; what she believed in that involved it.
Long ago Jyn had promised herself to stop asking those kinds of questions about her parents. It didn’t matter. They were gone. But on her way back to the bunks all she could think was how she badly she wanted to ask Mama everything about her. Everything she never had the chance to share. Maybe then she’d be a believer too.
12 notes · View notes