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#and he uses too much chili power and chili oil
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
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pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader
summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 
trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.
trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, mentions of gaining weight and wearing a corset (patrick bateman vibes), i really hope it doesn't seem like bodyshaming, reader has problems only with her own body.
prologue.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒.
another day. another chance to win him over. 
y/n could be named for many things: a filthy liar, a nepo-baby, a psychopath or simply a crazy girl, but she was never, ever lazy. waking up, she always had the same routine: getting out from the bed, changing into her underwear she wore the day before, making her hair up into a bun, spreading carbon on her teeth to be white as marble. working out, even if it hurt, because how could she be the best wife ever for coriolanus if she was lazy and out of shape? through workout, she thought about who she is. i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything what i have now. i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil. i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.
after that, taking a bath, scrubbing her body with a sponge, so her skin would always be silky, using her razor to get rid of the unwanted, ugly hair on her body. smearing vanilla and rose oil onto her skin: vanilla for being gentle, and rose for coriolanus. brushing her teeth, washing down the charcoal, washing teeth with the regular toothpaste. sitting in front of her dressing table, picking her eyebrow, putting cosmetic oils and serums on her cleavage, her neck and her face. while letting it dry, picking out the outfit of the day, calling in her maid, hortense to help her with the corset if she felt that she gained too much weight because of the medicine, or was on her period. y/n hated so-called red days, and waited for the day when she could bear her husband’s children. putting her clothes on, sitting at the dressing table again, her maid helped her if she wanted a special hairstyle. checking her manicure, it was now soft pink, it’ll match with her clothes. making her hair, she did her makeup, curling her eyelashes, putting a little chili on her lips to be so full –it hurt like hell, but how could she be perfect if she didn’t put effort in it?, whilst repeating another list in her mind. this was for coriolanus. 
be kind with him, but never too kind. be kind and modest with everybody else, so they won’t notice it. agree with him in the things that are important, but also speak your mind if he seems doubtful. speak your feelings to convince him, you are important to him. always accept his help, but don’t make redundant situations, don’t look like the damsel in distress. make him feel special, let him be the man he is, make him feel that you support him and his plans, but never make too big promises. don’t look pathetic, don’t show your emotions too much. never talk about him to others, only if they mention him, talk good about him, and talk bad about others if it’s needed. don’t make a scene if something doesn’t work your way, it will sooner or later. take action when it’s the right time. 
applying lipstick as the last step, she was ready to step out from home. y/n knew she had a strict routine, but doing mornings on autopilot let her think about more important things, like her daily plans. first destination was the school where coriolanus was, but first, she needed to get her papers after graduating, after that they’re gonna have lunch together, and then, she’ll look for the letters to see if volumnia gaul accepted her application. probably she will, she knows her entire family, how great they are, and she probably heard about y/n herself too. 
“good morning ms. y/l/n, how are you?” lacy, her sister’s maid asked her as she carried the laundry in a big basket through the hallway on the ground floor. 
“i slept well, lacy, thank you. where is my sister?” 
“your sister, morphia went to arrange the flowers and the cake for her marriage. i am so happy for her, ms. y/l/n!” 
y/n couldn’t decide if lacy was truly happy or just acting. but she wasn’t a threat, so y/n didn’t care. 
“me too, lacy.” 
her father was sitting at the head of the table, reading the tabloids, her mother, lorelei was eating some eggs with meat, some gin in her glass on the side. 
“this pheasant is really good, cyril.” she mentioned, looking up to see her youngest child. “oh, my sweet, y/n! good morning.” 
“good morning, mommy.” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, going to her father, she waited until he stopped reading the tabloid and looked at her. her father, cyril y/l/n was really strict, but not as strict as crassus snow. once, after her father made her burn the flowers she tore off from their garden and beat her, her mother stroked her cheek, saying “oh, honey, don’t be sad. your father is a good man, not like crassus snow. i think you should be glad that you don’t have him as your father.” so this way, y/n was happy. or so her mother thought. 
“good morning, father.” she told him too, giving him a kiss on the cheek too. she could do that until she was eighteen, after that, only the greeting was acceptable. y/n saw once, when morphia tried to kiss her father when she passed eighteen, she got slapped across the face. but they were happy, weren’t they? 
“how’s your application with gaul?” he asked as y/n sat down. 
“i handed it in yesterday. probably a letter will wait for me in the afternoon.” 
“why, what will you do today?” 
“cyril, i already told you that! your butler even wrote it down for you!” her mother whined, looking at her daughter. y/n took a slice of bread, reaching for the butter and the knife. 
“don’t mind it, mother. i’m going to the school to get my graduating papers, then have lunch with coriolanus, and then–”
“coriolanus snow? that boy and his family are broke, his father was gullible and got killed by the rebellion. why are you humbling yourself in his presence?” 
control. control your face, your hands. y/n’s fist curled around the knife tighter, grabbing it with real force. 
“i know, but he has great talent. and he’s gonna be the next president of panem.” she replied calmly, looking at him. sometimes she fantasized about stabbing him there, at the head of the table. 
“president of panem? y/n, you are so amusing when you say things like this. but i truly hope your words will become reality someday. crassus wasn’t gullible, everybody was afraid through the first rebellion.” his face softened, just as he spoke to a three year old. 
“yes, honey! your father doesn’t doubt you, he’s just amazed at what you are saying.” her mother added, sipping on her gin, batting her lashes. it wasn’t even ten in the morning, as she was already wasted. after eating the slice of bread, y/n stood up, hiding the knife into her sleeve. 
“i’m going out, but i’m gonna be here for the letter. please don’t open up before me.” she asked, making her father look up. 
“hortense is going to bring it to your room.” 
“thank you, father.” 
“honey, you didn’t even touch the caviar and the honey, please eat some more!” 
kissing her mother’s cheek again, y/n looked at her. she got her eyes, her mother was truly beautiful when she was young, acrimonious lips talked cyril only married lorelei because of her looks. nevertheless, the creed family was also noble, y/n only had to bear festus’ horrible personality twice a year, christmas and the reaping. 
“don’t worry mommy, i’ll be fine.” 
she could work easily with an empty stomach, getting back to her room, preparing her bag. looking at the medicines, she put the bottle under her clothes. she didn’t need these pills that made her useless, slow and lazy anyway, she needed something else… and she knew her horrible cousin, festus got that white, powdery thing. grabbing the butterknife from under her sleeve, she touched it. it was the worst knife ever, blunt and short, like some of the fighters in the games. y/n loved her father, respected him and counted on his words, but questioning her and laughing at her, it was the exception if it came to love and respect. and if her father is doubting her again, she will–
funk! well, who thought that people could stick butter knives into the wall? 
arriving at the school, showing her papers that she was a private student, the secretary gave out her graduation stuff. nodding, the secretary told some things, but her mind was focused on finding festus. going to the main hall, everybody whore red, y/n was the only outstander with her black skirt, soft pink blouse and black blazer. every school uniform was truly awful, the capitol is the wealthiest in all panem, couldn’t they make it a little bit more… pleasant? it’s a shame that every fabric is on their hand, available, and still, they style it horrible. nevermind, festus was there, chatting with that bitch arachne and that fucker pliny harrington. 
“hey, festus, hey, everybody. can we talk for a minute?” she turned to her cousin. festus looked at her, smirked, then looked at the others. 
“of course. sorry, it’s only a minute.” he said to them, walking to one of the corners with y/n. leaning to one of the marble piles, he dug his hands into his pockets. “so, what do you want?”
“why are you asking me so pitiless?” y/n blinked at him. for some people, formality in family could seem heartless, but she was relieved that she didn't need to waste her time if she didn't want to.
“you talk to me only if you need something.” 
“me? don’t be ridiculous, i helped with all your assignments in school, what would your mother say if she heard that?” y/n couldn’t be a big gamer if she didn’t knew the connections in her environment perfectly well. seeing how festus’ face became a little bit rigid, she continued. “anyway, i want from that white dust you gave me last time.”
she couldn’t even carve a wider grin on his face, even if she wanted to.
“so you liked it? it’s better than your stupid pills.” y/n had a poker face, but she wondered how he got to know. “you’re not the only one who knows things in the family.” fucker, you don’t even know everything, yet you still play like you’re the most clever. the funny thing is that it ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble, no. it's what you know for sure that just ain't so.
“i have business somewhere else soon, can i get it or not?”
“it will cost some money, but i am always happy to help my family.” oh, fuck off. y/n reached her hand like she wanted to shake hands with him, and this way, demand and supply met. “if you drink some of it, it’ll be better. you are a crazy bitch y/n, but if snow really will be the president, remember me as one of your biggest supporters.” he smiled. “oh, and volumnia heard some of his great ideas about getting more audience for the games. if you’ll work for her, that ugly power couple thing can be really dangerous.” what ideas? she knew it was a problem that the game wasn't so popular, and he thought that coriolanus wasn’t so interested in that. of course, until now, because big money was at stake, and everybody was prowling around the corner. y/n curled the corner of her lips up under duress, bidding goodbye to festus. she wasn’t gonna take it now, she used it only for emergencies.
now, she could completely focus on coriolanus. where was he? walking to the other long hallway, looking around, he was nowhere despite that they stuck to eleven am yesterday. suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulder, making her turn. 
“there you are!” there he was. y/n could look at him for an eternity, could he look better under eleven hours? everything about him was perfect, from the way he looked to the point he talked, and y/n almost tasted the sweetness when his mind was forming those clever, great thoughts. and his looks? she knew they could have the most precious children; angel blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jawline she could kiss a million times, his body was sculpted by the gods who were looking down on them, and she prayed every night to the deities so they could be each other’s one day. in y/n’s mind, coriolanus wasn’t just a boy or a soon-to-be-man. no, he was the base of everything, he had everything that y/n needed, and y/n was raised truly the best way. nobody else could get in the near of the perfection he formed, and y/n could see the future. the future, where they marry, she is in the longest, most beautiful white dress full with gemstones like rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds, vowing endless loyalty to each other, the whole world is envious of the wealth they have. the future, where he becomes the president of panem, leading the nation with a strong hand and making decisions with a strong mind, while y/n helped to make the games more impressive, more dangerous, more cruel, but first of all, supporting him in everything, even if she has to get her hands dirty. the future, where she was pregnant with his children, naming them ancient names so they could mirror the same noble qualities those deities had, raising them the best way so they could even outgrow them, perfect people. “how was your morning?”
the future they could have. the future they WILL have. 
“hello, corio. mine was pretty good, got my graduating papers. how was your day so far?” 
“it was… good, i guess? this mentoring thing is new for everyone, i spent all night thinking how lucy gray could win.” 
that name, again. keep it cool. 
“i’m sure you will think it out. shall we go and eat lunch?” 
sitting in a gorgeous, golden restaurant, y/n chose a corner for them to sit in. when their food arrived, she waited for him to speak. it seemed like something was itching his mind, and she was one of his best friends, wasn't she? corio looked to the side, then at her, then took a bite from his lunch. let’s break the ice. 
“is everything okay, corio?”
“yes, yes, everything’s fine. is it… on my face?” 
“well, since i…” don’t make it too personal. “...since we know each other so well, i see worry on your face. you can tell me everything.” 
“it’s… it’s gonna be really, really embarrassing for me, but… so, y/n, it’d be my pleasure if… you’d come with me on a date?”
clawing on her thigh, was this reality? was coriolanus really, really asking her out in this glorious place? was she truly worthy of his love? moderating her grin to a smile, she looked at him. he was truly a love-child of an angel and a god, and while y/n was truly a masterpiece herself, it was the biggest honor for her to get into the grace of this guy. now, the idea of the wedding and the best imaginable life wasn’t so far away. did the gods hear her prayers above, and saw the list she created? 
“forget it, y/n, i know i’m not–” coriolanus tried to hush the previous idea with an embarrassed look on his face, but y/n shook her head. obviously, her mind wandered for too long. 
“no, no! of course i’d go on a date with you. with pleasure.” y/n smiled, slowly reaching for his hand that was on the table. they touched each other frequently before, but not like this. she hated a part of herself, the part that could melt under his touch and got dizzy from only his skin. but truly, she could eat it up if she could. 
“oh, okay, well… i just… thought that it’s embarrassing, because you pay for all of this, and–” never let a man’s pride falter. it’s the firewood for the campfire, the pressure for the diamond, the water for the plants. if you feed a man’s ego, he’ll trust and love you. 
“corio, dear, please. i’m not with you because of your money, we can’t do anything about our past and families. and you’re gonna win the plinth-prize, so what are we worrying about?” 
“but–” y/n hushed him gently, playing her finger in front of her lips. 
“i’m sure you will win that prize. why, who else would win it? the daughter of an energy secretary? or a rich, spoiled kid?”
“they are all rich and spoiled.” y/n totally let pass the fact that she was too. but what was the problem with it, really? they couldn’t do anything about it, you can’t decide where you were born. a person can change everything about itself, but not its origin. it always stays with you, clinging onto your ankle, to drag with yourself everywhere. in this life, they got on the winning side of the wheel. and who cares about the next life? 
“but no one’s father is a general, except you. and i know that you didn’t like him, but keep the mindset.” 
“you are so clever, y/n. thank you for always putting my mind into it’s place.”
“i’m just telling the truth. and… how are things with the game? is it hard?” 
“oh, it’s… i still need to figure out some things. but i had some ideas about ways to get people more engaged in the games, like getting them sponsors, or interviewing the tributes so the viewers can get closer to them, pick a favorite, some things like this.” 
“it sounds really interesting, did volumnia hear these things?” as much as she hated festus’ bragging, he also mentioned things that she could use. maybe that’s why everybody got rid of her so fast at a big gathering like the graduation two days ago. she never had ‘juicy tea’ or some things like that, only if she wanted to get something. and when she wanted to get something, the chamber of secrets instantly opened. 
“yeah, well she came in when we were discussing those things. she said that i need to write it down, and then clemensia interrupted that we’ve always worked and brainstormed together, so we can write that together, too.” 
totaling another pen, dovecote? being a tricky bitch, i wasn’t expecting less from you. 
“i think volumnia should know that the idea was yours. clemensia is your good friend, but why wasn’t she just cheering that you got the gamemaker’s attention?” plant the seed. maybe not with clemensia, she will do it for herself, but anyway. coriolanus needed to know the truth. 
“i will talk with her about this.” he won’t. he’s too kind-hearted for it. “and i’ll write down my ideas. anyway, how’s your application for volumnia gaul? did you hand it in?” y/n nodded at his question, chewing on the potatoes. 
“got handed it in yesterday. i really hope if i go home this afternoon, a letter will be waiting for me.” the smile on his face was worth everything. what could that mouth do if there were only the two of them? because she knew what her mouth could do. 
“i’m sure she’ll hire you. one of your thesis got onto her table, remember? the one you wrote about the possible content of venom in mono– and dicotyledons. and if she’s not, then she’s a dingbat.” y/n remembered that thesis, her brain always burned out from the three-day long insomnia. 
“careful, corio! i hope she doesn’t have ears everywhere.” that woman was the queen on her chess table, it was the side that could never be decided. 
all the way home, she thought about coriolanus. y/n gotta hide the grin she was forming with her lips when she was driving home with the chauffeur of the family. all the effort, all the pain… it was worth it. she almost teared up from the joy, but her mascara was really expensive, even her mother thought that it was too rich for their blood.
“is everything alright, miss y/l/n?” helius, their private driver asked, looking into the rear-view mirror. y/n nodded, exhaling and inhaling. big news like this always messed with her head. nodding, everything was perfect. 
stepping inside the house, she raced up to her room immediately. there was the letter, persephone slept beside it. picking it up, y/n used her nails to tear it up. she never waited for news like this. the sooner she knew, the sooner she could got suit in the new situation. 
dear y/n y/l/n, you got accepted…
throwing it away, she instantly picked up persephone, screaming into her fur. persephone meowed, already used to her owner’s insane habits. anyway, the food was tasty in the house, so why not bear it? 
“you hear this, persephone? the lucky star is shining on us.” she whispered to the cat, stroking her head. she couldn't sit back, not now. not when good things, the reward of the hard work could be felt. not when everything worked for her plans. “mother and father will be so happy. and we are happy too, aren't we?” 
y/n didn't know happiness, only when her heart got fast and drug-like feeling curled in her blood. but now, she got to be a predator. a predator who sat for hours, days to catch its prey. when news were coming in, things always changed. she had to be patient, but she couldn't get lazy, not now. not when strange news was coming up. news that didn’t match with her expectations, nowhere, never. news that bathed her soul with venom. news that raised her little game onto a new level. 
a/n: the prologue got so many notes like my tumblr literally BLEW UP thank you so much girliez 😭 i hope you liked this part, more focus will be on corio i just want to size up reader's mindset
take care of yourself babes, love y'all luisa
523 notes · View notes
secretnameu9 · 2 months
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Illusion
“Hi, Tails! It’s just me Amy again! If you get this could give me a call back!”
“Tails, hi It’s me Amy again…uhm could you give me a call back when you can? I’m starting to get a bit worried. Thanks!”
“I haven’t heard from either of them in quite a while, I’m worried. Have you heard from either one?”
“No I have not.”
“Sometimes…Sonic can be a bit harder to get a hold of, but Tails? I…I…”
=========
“Smile!”
Click
A photo revealing two individuals standing close to each-other, trying their best to pose appears on an electronic screen. Miles “Tails” Prower and Sonic the Hedgehog were the ones who inhabited that photo. The background easily revealing that this photo was taken in Tails’ workshop.
After being sure the device had captured the photo the two broke away from each-other giving each a bit of distance between the other.
Tails stared at the screen for a moment, his face neutral and observant before that said face started to rapidly turn into a very pleased smile. Seemingly very happy with his handywork.
“Sooo? How’d it turn out?” Sonic questions, allowing his face to break out into a grin upon seeing his little bro’s face break out into a smile.
“Awesome! I just upgraded the Miles Electric’s camera the other day and this…is great!” Tails starts, his iconic two tails wagging behind him as he observes the photograph his device just captured. “I’m going get this one printed out and framed later. I like how it turned out” the fox continues seemingly very pleased with the outcome of it all. Tails turns the screen off for the device before laying it off to the side in order to focus on Sonic for the time being.
Sonic had been out and about, adventuring for the past several days, so the two haven’t seen each other in a decent amount of time. So when Sonic so happened to show up and not too long after Tails upgraded several aspects of the Miles Electric, he figured why not get a photo? It’s been a long time since he got a picture of himself and Sonic anyways.
“Well, I’m glad you like it so much, little buddy” Sonic starts shooting the kit a little thumbs up in approval. Just simply glad that his little bro is glad. “So now, that we went through the photoshoot and all, we still doing chilidogs? I’m starvvving” Sonic whines, as if he had not ate all day.
A chuckle emanates from Tails as he can’t help but roll his eyes a bit from Sonic’s slightly overdramatic show of how hungry he was. The fox kit knowing full well Sonic ate earlier that day in particular. So he wasn’t THAT hungry. Yet, it was around lunch-time and honestly chili-dogs didn’t so too bad at all. Actually chilidogs sounded great, they’re always better when Sonic’s around.
“Yep, we’re having ourselves some chilidogs! I specifically stocked up…had a feeling you’d be coming by soon.” Tails comments as he begins to walk through the house, making his way to the kitchen.
Upon reaching the said kitchen Tails goes ahead begins to get everything ready, pot, pan, cooking oil, turn on the stove, can of chili, and a package of Sonic Approved franks. A process the young fox is at this point in his incredibly short life very used to. The sheer number of repeats of this procedure likely being in the hundreds.
“So, whatcha been up to while I’ve been going around?” Sonic asks. Already knowing the answer of the general question. He knows full well Tails had been tinkering about in his workshop. Working on one of his 2bajillion projects he has going on at any given moment. But the hedgehog hoped to maybe here about some of the things the Fox had been working on.
“Lately I’ve been tinkering around with the Miles Electric and the Tornado recently. I upgraded the specs of the Miles Electric, so now it has significantly more memory space and processing power. I also enhanced the camera. I got the tornado’s booster enhanced as well! According to my calculations it should give at least a 20% speed boost!” tails comments. Seemingly very happy to talk about his projects with his best friend. Tails didn’t always get to talk about all the things he works on, so when he gets the chance it’s always a pleasure to speak about them.
“I almost forgot how compact everything in the Miles electric was! It was a fun little challenge to get everything to fit just right” Tails adds. The small fox comments on a couple of other things he worked on as well, like optimizing the houses refrigerator, it now only needing 75% of the power it originally needed to run. Briefly mentioning how he managed to hack into Eggman’s network, but not getting super into the details of what he was snooping around there for. Just lots of things the fox found fun to do.
“Well- sounds like you’ve been busy! I’m happy to hear my little buddy is able to keep doing the things he enjoys” Sonic chirps in. Very content and happy his little bro is able to keep doing his passion. “You’ve been getting the proper amount of sleep though, right?” Sonic questions. Hoping that his little bro might have had a change of heart and started to prioritize his sleep a bit more. That kid…he got so into his projects sometimes he’d just forget to sleep entirely.
Sonic didn’t get all that much of a response out of the kit. Tails simply humming to himself seemingly ignoring the question. Sonic knew full well Tails heard him. He was just dodging the question.
“Tails…” Sonic shakes his head at the youngers response or lack their of. When they were younger, Sonic would always try and help get Tails to sleep. He was rather successful in that endeavor, but as Tails grew older and started to pick up new things and the two of them branched out to do their own things, Tails sleeping issues have grown worse over the years. That’ll have to be a topic he talks to his best friend about at a later time.
Not too long after the cooking was completed, Tails bringing a plate of chilidogs to the dinner table. One plate for himself to boot. At this point Tails had figured out on average how many chilidogs each of the brother’s ate. His success rate at getting the perfect amount for each at this point was around 95%, but he always made one extra for himself…just in-case. It was usually too much for himself, but if Sonic wanted an extra he could have it and if he couldn’t eat it, Sonic would happily take it. It all worked out in the end.
The two indulged in the delicious meal. They both are quiet while they ate, focusing more on eating than talking. They didn’t want their food to go cold after all! Plus, honestly they were both a bit hungrier than they both actually thought they were. It was nice to have company to eat with, however. Always made for a good mood.
The seconds on the clock kept moving forward until the two finished their meal together, Sonic picking up and doing the dishes, lighting quick of course! Figuring it was the least he could do since Tails was kind enough to cook him up something warm to eat.
The two took some time to hang out, they played some video games together, watched one of the their movies, and just in general took the time to enjoy each others presence. Being sure to make the most of the time they spent together. At the end of the day, both Sonic and Tails truly cared for each other. So it was quite obvious that the two just liked to do things together.
In due time the ever present star that gave light and life to Mobius began to make it’s descent to the other side of the world. Things were starting to die down. The two had their dinner and more than likely were going to call it a night, but something had been on Tails’ mind for a while. It was not something he couldn’t just simply let fly, it was important.
Tails made his way downstairs, from his workshop a bit relieved seeing that Sonic was still awake, sprawled out on the couch. Seeming to be reading a book of some form. The hedgehog’s ear flicking upon hearing the fox making his way down the stairs. Sonic’s attention mainly remained on the book, until he was certain Tails’ was wanting his attention specifically. Which that became evident rather quickly when the fox came over to the couch, Sonic quick to pick a spot in his book that he could remember to pick up on later on down the line.
“What’s up, little bro?” Sonic questions. Now giving his full attention to the little fox that now stood in-front of him. The small foxes luxurious tails swaying behind him from side to side as he awaited to get his older brother’s attention.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Tails asks. His face remaining rather neutral his voice a bit unsure, he didn’t want to bother Sonic, but this was something that needed to be talked about. “I’ll make it quick, so you can get back to reading.” He adds quickly.  
Sonic removes his legs from the couch, patting right next to himself. A signal to his best friend that he’s more than welcome to take a seat. “Sure thing. What’s on that cunning fox brain of yours?”
Tails takes a seat right next to Sonic, looking forward staring at the television straight ahead not making eye contact with Sonic just yet, trying to figure out the best way to go about communicating this. It wasn’t that it was hard, but it was Tails trying to make sure Sonic takes this 100% seriously.
“Do you remember earlier, when I said I hacked into Eggman’s network?” Tails references back to a small passing statement he made earlier when both Sonic and himself were catching up. At the time Tails didn’t bring it up as it just wasn’t the right moment, but now, now was the right time.
“I think I do remember you mentioning it earlier. Why? What’s up?” Sonic questions, cocking an eye brow. Wondering what Tails managed to dig up.
“Uhm…well…” Tails starts, trying to figure out the best way to talk about this, before sighing and figuring it was time to just drop it and let spill it. “Looks like Eggman has the Phantom Ruby again. Somehow.”
There was a light pause between the two, before Tails continued “I checked the dates of the documentation, to make sure I wasn’t getting into old details. All of it is new, he’s doing testing in a new base…I think it’s something we’re going to have to look into. Quickly.”
“Quickly? Do you know who you’re talking to? We’ll have that whole situation sorted out before Eggman even knows what hit him!” Sonic says, his voice oozing with confidence. No matter what scheme Eggface comes up with, Sonic always stops him. This time it won’t be any different.
A smile was quick to break on Tails’ face. At the end of the day, he knew things were going to be fine. He knows he and Sonic take care of Eggman on a regular basis, this isn’t going to be any different. But the phantom ruby…”Yeah…you’re right. I just-you know how much trouble it caused last time around, it’s dangerous you know that. We need to be careful.” Tails mentions as he turns to Sonic, crossing his legs so he can fully sit on the couch.
“It’s okay, we got this. How about this, we go tomorrow, we’ll go to Eggman’s base wreck his little scheme before it gets going, and we’ll be back by evening and we’ll have ourselves a second serving of chilidogs? Deal?” Sonic says. Not seeming too worried all things considered. This won’t be the first time he’s had a tough battle with egghead after all.
“I’m serious Sonic, we got to be careful. We don’t-“ Tails cuts himself off as a absolutely massive, yet incredibly adorable yawn escapes. His lack of sleep finally seeming to catch-up to his body.
“Somebodies tired, now aren’t they?” Sonic grins. “Looks like somebody has to finally get to bed at a reasonable hour.” Sonic looks at his wrist at his fake watch that he’s not wearing. “Go ahead, get yourself some rest kiddo, wanna make sure that brain is well rested for the butt kicking we’re gonna give eggface tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah. All right. Fine.” Tails gets up, wiping away a tear, his very aggressive yawn causing his eyes to water a bit. “I already have the coordinates to the base. So we’ll get that figured out tomorrow. Goodnight, Sonic.” Tails leaves off as he begins to make his way to his bed room. Another yawn escaping  on his way back. “Goodnight, Tails!” Sonic wishes to his little brother. Now having the whole room himself.
“The phantom ruby…?” Sonic murmurs to himself. “But how?”
=========
This was a bad idea, this was a really bad idea. Tails internally thinks to himself, trying to get through corridor after corridor. He knew they needed prep time, he knew they should have called for back-up. This was just all bad. Nearly every worst case scenario has arrived.
As promised both Tails and Sonic did make their way to Eggman’s new base. Tails had brought some extra fire power, bringing his newly upgraded arm blaster. In the back of his mind he hoped that maybe this wouldn’t be so hard, since they were striking so early, but hope…is not a very scientific word. Hope doesn’t account for things going wrong and hope doesn’t rewrite history.
The operation itself didn’t go too bad at first. If anything, by all accounts it seemed this would just be a quick, enter base, wreck the plans, go home, and not have to worry about it after a while. But, this was the Phantom Ruby being talked about here.
Practically upon a false sense of security setting in, Sonic and Tails were both separated. It began to become more difficult to determine what was real and what was fake. So it wasn’t much surprise that, that were to have happened. Luckily Tails accounted for this and had himself and Sonic bring their communication devices. Unluckily there seemed to be a rather large amount of interference when attempting to communicate. So long distance communication was not much of an option.
“We’ll have to wait to regroup.” Tails murmurs to himself as he keeps going forward. He knew the layout of this base, it wasn’t very convoluted compared to some of Eggman’s previous designs, but something was off. He couldn’t figure out where point a was or point b. Which was strange because he did specifically take the time to remember the layout.
Tails made sure to put his arm blaster to good use. There was badniks loitered through the building as he went on. They didn’t really stand much of a chance against the upgraded weapon, he thanked his past self for doing those upgrades. There numbers weren’t impressive at first, but over time they seemed to begin growing. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was getting closer to important details of the base or…was this all in his mind?
Then suddenly there were only occasional amounts of the robots. Just one. Or maybe two at most. Just scattered about. Strange. None of this was making any logical sense. The young fox turned around to see the path behind him. It seemed like the way he just came, nothing out of the ordinary.
Forward. Keep going forward and don’t look back. You’ll run into Sonic that way, right?
So Tails kept going forward, he took care of whatever robots that remained in his path.
Tails was getting into a rhythm, see robot shoot. See robot shoot. See robot shoot. See robo-
Wait…wait why did that robot just scream out in pain? Why is that robot screaming out in agony? Why does that voice sound so familiar…oh no…
“No…no, no” Tails closed his eyes and shook his head violently. Trying to make these illusions stop for just a moment. He should have known better he was just seeing things this whole time. But when he opened his eyes, his heart dropped. The fox dropped his weapon to the floor as he stepped forward.
“Sonic…SONIC!” Tails ran forward kneeling down before his brother, the hedgehog clutching the wound know inhabiting his chest. “Sonic, oh my- chaos…I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-“ Tails was panicking. He just shot his own brother, he just blasted his own family.
“Gotta say…you’re a killer shot, little bro, heh…” Sonic manages. His body doing it’s best to focus mostly on surviving and less on talking.
“Sonic, I’m gonna get you out of here, please just hold on, let me…I just need to find a way to…I just-“ Tails looks around trying to find anything to help in this situation. Something to temporarily, yet useless dress the wound. Something to use as a support to help carry his injured best friend out of this cursed base. Anything. But in his state of panic, he didn’t notice that Sonic had reached out to him. He did notice when a hand gently cuffed around the side of his head.
Tails turned to look at Sonic. And Sonic looked at Tails, staring into his sky blue eyes…eyes that were now stained with tears, worry, and panic.
Sonic took his hand and moved it to where Tails ear was and cupped his hand, rubbing behind the kit’s ears. Tails wasn’t sure if Sonic was just so out of it right now that he didn’t know what he was doing or if the hedgehog was just trying to show his affection at such a dangerous moment. No…Sonic didn’t think he was dying, right? Sonic’s not going to die…he can’t die.
“Come-on Sonic, help-help me apply pressure to your wound, please…I just need to buy sometime so I can figure-figure…figure-“ Tails hiccups trying his best to finish his statement.
“Tails buddy…” Sonic reaches and gingerly holds one of Tails’ arms with one of his free hands. Using his other to help Tails apply pressure to the wound. Despite how futile it seemed. Both of their hands covered in red. “Tails look at me.”
Tails looks at Sonic, directly into his eyes. Staring into those ever green emerald eyes, that he always looked up to. Those eyes that always brought hope and light to any situation they were in. Those some eyes that the universe seemed so headstrong to take away from him.
“Tails…”
“Tails, I love you, little bro. More than you’d ever know…” Sonic coughs a bit, his voice growing weaker, his body feeling lighter by the minute.
“Can you promise me something?” Sonic asks. Tails quickly nods. “Anything, Sonic. What is it?”
“Promise to take care of yourself…live your best life, be free. I know it’s going to be hard for you bud, but-“ cough “but, do it for me will you?”
Tails swallows a lump that had been in his throat since the moment this went down. He only now noticed how little he himself was breathing. The fox shook his head a bit “Don’t, don’t be saying stuff like that. You’re going to be here. This…” Tails inhales deeply “But I promise, just please…hang in there just a little longer.”
“Thanks, little bro. I knew…I could…count on you. I lov u” Sonic smiles. His breaths growing shorter and shorter. Time was running out. Quickly.
“I love you, too Sonic.” Tails says quickly. The small fox looking around again to see anything that would help them out, but there was nothing. Just empty corridor. Why…just why.
When Tails turned around, he could feel whatever spirit was left in his soul vanish. Sonic’s eyes were open still, yet they were so empty. Like there was nothing there.
“Sonic?” Tails questions panic in his voice. “Sonic?!” Tails releases his hands from the wound they were covering. The small fox shaking his big brother, lightly at first praying it would get some form of response. He quickly moved his hands to the hedgehogs wrist. Pulse? No…was he…breathing? Tails looked to see just any form of movement. Was Sonic breathing? No…he was not.
The fox moved his hands back to Sonic’s shoulders “SONIC?! PLEASE! WAKE UP!” he shook Sonic violently. Maybe just maybe it would be enough to get Sonic’s body to cooperate…yet nothing.
The young fox lies down next Sonic, cuddling up next to his best friend, his brother, his…family. Lies next to him and sobs. This was all his own fault. He should have done a better job at emphasizing how dangerous this place was, he should have had a better plan, he should have called for back-up, he should have…Tails looked at his discard arm blaster. He then slowly and scarily looked at his own red foiled gloves.
“It was me…” Tails chokes. “I killed Sonic.”
He laid there in silence, snuggling close to his brother. The tears never stopped, not until everything went dark. =================
@nixoon-again @tornado1992 @myyla-x @tornado1992 @000marie198 Am I cool yet? I did the thing. II want y'all to know y'all single handedly got me back into writing. With your stories. Hope you know that. This is inspired by y'alls work <3
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wangxianficrecs · 1 year
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The Art of Communication by mrcformoso
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The Art of Communication
by mrcformoso
G, 4k, Wangxian
Summary: Lan Zhan can only say so much before the words get caught in his throat. He has long learned how to use his words sparingly, how to build enough of a reputation to minimize the use of words, has learned to hide behind little grunts and pointed looks. In contrast, Wei Ying never seemed to run out of words, speaking often and quickly, whatever was on his mind, mumbling equations and theories and his own thoughts as if he had a word quota to meet and exceed on a daily basis. So the Gusu University students found it rightfully strange that the two were dating. Chapter 1: Outsiders POV Chapter 2: Lan Zhan POV Chapter 3: Wei Ying POV
Kay's comments: This story was very cute! For once, I read something that didn't involve any angst - just a cute modern setting Wangxian getting together, lots of fluff and them just being on the same wavelength. I really enjoyed how we first saw an outsider's perspective on their relationship before getting their POVs.
Excerpt: And oh, Wei Ying is amazing. Wei Ying declares his love for Lan Zhan similarly to his first one, like his love for Lan Zhan is integral in his thought process, like it’s natural for him to think that Lan Zhan looked particularly pretty that day, or he liked how the sun hits his eyes. Even when he’s not outright saying it, it’s in the way he speaks up for Lan Zhan so that he doesn’t have to use his own words, when others are too stubborn to pick up the meaning of Lan Zhan’s gestures. It’s in the way he defends Lan Zhan’s silence. It’s in the way he never asks Lan Zhan to change. “Why should he change?” Wei Ying challenged the people that questioned their relationship dynamic. “Lan Zhan talks to me all the time! It’s not his fault you don’t listen!” Because what Lan Zhan couldn’t say, he instead showed it with action. Packed lunches for two, Wei Ying’s favorite chili oil in his bag, carrying his backpack when swim practice gets too much, calls in the morning to make sure Wei Ying is up on time; Lan Zhan poured all the words he can’t say during the day into acts of service, caring for the man who gets too caught up to care of himself.
modern setting, modern no power, pov multiple, college/university, engineering student wei wuxian, music student lan wangji, swimmer wei wuxian, martial artist lan wangji, getting together, selectively mute lan wangji, communication, fluff, falling in love, love confessions, love languages, requited love, first kiss, @mrcformoso
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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angchongyicritic · 1 month
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Simple Tips From Ang Chong Yi To Make Foods Taste And Smell Better
Food is one of the reasons a lot of people live. Diversity, aesthetics, and taste in foods are very important to people of all cultural backgrounds. Even tiny amounts of ingredients can change things in all kinds of foods. So, if you want tips from Ang Chong Yi to improve the taste of the foods you cook, read this article. He explains some easy cooking, seasoning, and preparation suggestions to help your ordinary cuisine taste better. If you want to know more about how things in foods interact, read Ang Chong Yi Talks About The Harmony Of Flavors And Taste Sensations.
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Don’t Prepare Garlic And Onions In Advance
It is advisable to chop the onions and garlic at the final minute because they release powerful aromas and sharp scents that can become overwhelming. Soak chopped or sliced onions in a solution of baking soda and water. Then, make sure to rinse them well before using them to lessen the pungency of onions for raw applications. 
Don’t Seed Tomatoes
Don't seed tomatoes when using them for a meal where too much moisture may ruin the dish. This is because the majority of the flavor is in the seeds, and the surrounding flesh acts like excess moisture. 
Keep Fats Tasting Fresh
Your cooking might get off-flavor due to the rancidity of lipids found in butter, oils, and nuts. To help slow down this process, reduce their exposure to light and oxygen. Keep nut oils refrigerated, butter and nuts frozen, and vegetable oils in a dark pantry.
Only Strike When The Pan Is Hot
It's important to take your time preheating most sautés because the temperature of the cooking surface will decrease as soon as you put food on it. Wait for the oil to shimmer when cooking veggies. When frying protein, it's best to cook it until the oil begins to emit the first faint clouds of smoke.
Bloom Spices And Dried Herbs In Fat
Add a little butter or oil to the pan and sauté the ground spices and dried herbs for a minute or two before adding liquid to bring out their flavor. Add the spices to the pan's fat after the veggies are almost done if the recipe calls for sautéing aromatics. After ten minutes of baking, turn the loaf over using parchment paper.
Add A Little Umami Or Savoriness
Toss in a spoonful or two of soy sauce to your chili, or sauté some chopped anchovies with your veggies in a soup or stew to add that unique taste.
Incorporate Fresh Herbs At The Right Time
Hardy herbs give off a nice flavor and provide a less intrusive texture. So, fresh herbs like thyme, rosemary, oregano, sage, and marjoram should be added to recipes early in the cooking process. Basil, parsley, cilantro, tarragon, chives, and other delicate herbs should be saved for the very end to preserve their vibrant color and fresh flavor. 
Final Thoughts
These tips can seem simple but greatly improve the taste of your foods. If you want more food related tips, Follow Ang Chong Yi - Food Blogger and Critic in Singapore and learn his professional tips.
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rnm-magic-space-xsd · 7 months
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Purple and Pink for the ask game!! :3
Thank you so much for asking and I’m looking forward to reading about you and your f/os! 😄🍬This was fun to write and I may have gone a little overboard with my writing and added Orange because I really love reminiscing on dates of ours together!
Purple: What is your favorite thing about their personality?
Me (About Keita) : I am so absolutely thankful for how protective, caring, devoted and understanding Keita is towards me! Once when we went to a youkai festival he practically had hearts thudding hard in his eyes with love when he saw me in a yukata for the first time. I felt so shy but also so happy x’). (He looked so dashing too 😍.. My Wolf…)
But during the festivals’ parade it was so crowded that we got separated and I was so anxious 😣..I was basically frozen to the spot but got too overwhelmed by the stuffiness and noise that I had to find a quiet and solitary place to calm down. I couldn’t find such a place so I just stood by the sidelines of the path, next to the food stalls.
Some guys then tried to hit on me and I felt so uncomfortable and scared and anxious. I was breaking out in sweat and mind shocked with fear and trauma flashbacks that all I could say was a weak no.
When they became even pushier and tried to lead me to a darker area my instincts told me to run away but the wooden sandals hurt my bare feet and they were very strong and aggressive.
In a moment of survival-genius I noticed that the food stall next to us had takoyaki and a spicy chili oil sauce pan and instantly, without even thinking of the repercussions; I splashed one of the guys’ eyes with it. He immediately started shutting and clawing his eyes in pain and agony, gaining some of the surrounding people’s attention.
The other guy, seeing that I hurt his ‘friend’, was super mad and his eyes were so dark and menacing.
I was about to run away despite my aching feet when I was suddenly held from behind. My heart literally jumped out of my chest thinking it was one of their ‘friends’, but then I felt such immense relief hearing Keita’s growling and deep voice coming from the warm, sturdy body holding mine.
Keita is a sacred wolf youkai that eats other lesser youkai for both demonic power and for vengeance against culprits that cross his path and hurt his dear ones. He had such a strong and forceful aura that the guy that got mad at me was scared out of his bones. Not to mention how Keita is highly infamous in the youkai world as ‘Hell’s Damnation’.
The youkai (a lesser spider demon) and his scathed eyed friend quickly backed off when they saw Keita’s dangerous glowing golden eyes and sharp claws, alongside a forced mental vision of Keita stabbing them right by their hearts, causing them to fall to their knees in that same vision, struggling to breathe.
“Disgusting swine. You Never. Hurt. What. Is. Mine.”
Then, as if nothing ever happened Keita embraced me even tighter and sighed with relief. “Thank Hells’ Storms that I was able to locate your scent. I was worried sick about you, my love Shiri.”
“Aww, Keita..” 💗 I replied and turned around to hug Keita back. “I’m glad you found me. I was scared to be without you in this crowd too.”
“But love, as I was rushing to protect you I saw how bravely you fought against them. I’m so proud of you. No wonder you’re my to be wife 😌💍👌🏼”
I felt so much love and safety with Keita…I adore him so much and I know he’d never hurt me.
Pink: What is your favorite thing about their appearance?
Me (About Keita) : Keita has mesmerizing golden eyes that shine like the sun and I adore how sturdy and toned his torso is 😍. Perfect bedtime pillow!
Keita (About Me): “Well, to let you in on the know how of our relationship I’ll clear some things up here ; a few years ago Shiri and I got engaged through our families due to Shiri’s special and divine blood running through her veins. She was a descendant of psychic priestesses with the ability to heal and intoxicate youkai by taking in her scent and has the ability to make them stronger by letting them drink some of her blood, or even; through kissing or making love with her.”
(I) “But aside from that, I was attracted to her bravery when facing injustice and for her strength to keep her heart soft despite all of the abuse she went through in the past.”
(II) “She’s so precious when she smiles warmly at me or snuggles up to me for comfort. It makes my heart go racing into a blubbering, frantic mess and I can’t help but want to hug her so tightly and feel her warmth close to me; her heart thudding and racing against me, just like mine: To remind me that I’m not hallucinating or dreaming this magical love I have with her.”
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willowcrowned · 3 years
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thinking about baby Anakin trying to make dinner for him and Obi-Wan within the first month he’s on coruscant and messing up terrible because all the spices are unfamiliar and the grain doesn’t need to be cooked as long so he ends up with a burned mess of wasted food and he’s desperately trying to clean it up and hide it before Obi-Wan notices but Obi-Wan smells something burning and forces himself to get up from where he’s been lying listlessly on his bed all day and Anakin starts sobbing in front of him in shame and fear because he wasted food and made a mess and those aren’t things to be taken lightly on Tatooine, which means he didn’t just fail but he ruined everything, and Obi-Wan just goes down on his knees and sighs and goes ‘hey, hey, it’s alright. this kitchen can withstand one more horribly burned meal’ and he HUGS Anakin and Anakin cries into his shoulder and then they order food in and eat it on the couch together the end
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even breathless, neck throbbing with pain, the agony of betrayal in the empty pit of his heart, damian can still see superman radiating pride. it's how he's always looked at richard, whether they were in the watchtower right before a fight, or in the manor as bruce deigns to invite his friend over for lunch, or even at the farm when dick coordinated a childhood get-together with the one kid damian couldn't kill. (at least, not easily.)
clark is no different now, smiling at a boy he watched grow up into someone purposeful and powerful with headrush of praise, with pellucid respect. he is proud.
damian wants to throw up.
richard is—richard is not richard, that thing is blood-ringed fingernails and blood-streaked cheeks and bloody, bloody smiles. and he looks at damian sharply fond, the way a clenched fist punching a mirror is sharply fond. damian wants to rake his own fingers over his eyes until the imposter just goes away, until his richard comes back.
"damian, thank god," not-richard says, spotting damian's eyelids fluttering open. he glides over, a touch too smoothly to be human—but then again, richard always did most things a little too graceful, a little too perfect. when he crouches in front of damian, concern pooling in his lustrous eyes—too bright, too bright, far too bright to be natural—damian holds in a shudder.
his touch is just as gentle, just as tender, brie and berries and love. something in damain breaks with relief. he's not all gone.
"i was getting worried," not-richard murmurs, tilting his head up and checking his eyes for a concussion, palm on his forhead, doting. "you said you'd only ever die if you tasted ollie's chili. gotta make sure you stick to that." it was richard's standard after-patrol routine, making sure damian was alright with a quippy joke and a caring touch. just like mother used to do.
damian scowls and kicks at richard's leg. it's much weaker than should have been. "get away from me, monster."
"damian," not-richard says. "it's me, you know me."
"no, you're just the thing wearing my brother's face," damian snarls. his voice wavers, and damian can't seem to get it under control.
ever-so adept at reading people, richard catches it in an instant. "c'mon, damian," he coos, sickly-sweet. "whatever happened to my little brother who wasn't scared of anything? you threw knives at the monster in your closet, there's no way you're scared of me."
and sure, he's scared. his father is dead, his siblings are dead; who knows what richard has planned next. nightwing has led almost every major superhero team in existence, and is a member of just as many more. an evil nightwing? a terrifying concept.
but he can't convince himself of that, he just can't. when richard's fangs glint, all damian remembers is a mouthful of hot pitha right out of the oil with abba vinyl spinning in the living room. when richard's sharp nails drag threateningly across the stitches on damian's neck, all he remembers are those same fingers juggling a few fridge magnets before pinning up one of damian's drawings. and when he catches sight of the blood soaked all over richard's escrima sticks, all damian remembers is richard teaching him how to use them, twirling the batons and throwing them to damian, trusting him with his own personal weapons.
damian wants to register this not-richard as a threat in his mind, he really does, but he—he can't.
"don't you want to stay, damian?" richard says. "clark is here, he'll call jon soon. and i'm here, i'm your family and i'm here. isn't that enough?"
"no," damian says, his voice toffee-brittle and broken. it's all he can manage, but he still forces it out.
richard's eyes turn all large and sad, an airy little half moon with enough power to change the tides. "you want to leave me?"
"no, i don't,,,," damian barely recognizes his own voice.
"you're scared," richard says softly. "it's okay, i was too. but i promise you, it's for the best. no more pain, no more loss, no more death. just us, your family, your friends. you can finally be happy, damian."
"i was happy," damian says, feeling the burning edge of tears at the corners of his eyes, only sheer willpower keeping them from falling. "i was happy before you ruined it."
"and i'll fix it," richard promises. he's cross-legged in front of damian now, like he always is when he wants to talk. "i'll make it better, you just have to drink."
damian can't bring himself to speak. he turns his head away.
"no, no, come on damian. look at me." richard ducks his head, catching damian's eye. "please, will you drink? for me?"
there's something calculating in his tone, but damian can hardly bring himself to care, not when there's a celestial spread of love in his gaze.
damian always thought his death would be some grand, histrionic thing. ephemeral, victorian, a masterclass performance. the type of death you'd read a novel just to revel in at the end. instead, he will die in a safehouse he once played charades in, with the chattering of vampires in the background as his brother, who'd once pulled a boy out of a monster, now turns him back into one.
it may not be the type of death he'd envisioned—oh god, damian thinks as he trembles, his father's furious voice in his head batted aside one final time as richard banishes his hesitation with one gold-filtered, incandescent hug, then raises his bleeding arm to damian's mouth, oh fuck, oh god—but it's poetic, it's most certainly poetic. damian drinks.
---
as @/batshit-birds so eloquently put it:
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tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical
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aiweirdness · 3 years
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A big neural net reviews a smaller neural net's recipes
I’ve used various neural networks to generate recipes, to varying degrees of success. My earliest recipes were generated with char-rnn, which had to learn everything - spelling, punctuation, words - entirely from scratch. Its recipes were terrible (Swamp Peef and Cheese, anyone? Or Chocolate Chicken Chicken Cake?). Later when I started using GPT-2, I was using a neural net that had already seen a lot of recipes online during internet pre-training, and its recipes looked a lot more realistic (although not entirely realistic - there was that recipe for Black Forest Cake that suggested pouring the batter into a toaster, or the jello recipe that starts with “remove all internal rinds”).
GPT-3, an even more powerful text-generating neural net, has seen so many recipes during its internet pre-training that its recipes are boringly plausible. Bake its Black Forest Cake recipe and you’d probably actually get cake at the end, even if it’s not the best cake in the world. Its recipes aren’t funny at a glance, which is why I haven’t posted any of them - until internet linguist Gretchen McCulloch suggested that, rather than have GPT-3 generate its own recipes, I have it rate char-rnn’s recipes. Readers, it worked.
I prompted GPT-3 with two example recipes from allrecipes, each followed by 3 of their human-written reviews. Then, for the third recipe I inserted one of char-rnn’s recipes:
Chocolate Chocolate Cake
1 cup sugar 1/4 cup butter 1 cup margarine 1 cup cocoa 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 cup margarine 1/2 cup pecans, chopped 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 egg yolk 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 cup chopped pecans 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 cup cocoa 1 teaspoon vanilla
Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, salt, and salt in a large bowl. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils and stiff peaks form. Add milk and cook until mixture is completely melted. Remove from heat and stir in sugar and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat until smooth. Spread in batter. Sprinkle with pecans.
Yield: 1 servings
And then I let GPT-3 add reviews. Would it mention the excessive lakes of vanilla? The complete lack of flour? The foolhardy reliance on the heroic efforts of a single egg yolk to hold things together?
oxtailsandturnovers Rating: 5 stars 03/04/2007 delicious chocolate recipe!!! and the perfect balance between cocoa and chocolate. and they sure were LONGNECKS! big time rave here. lazy w birthdays w friends and family, try this recipe for something chocolate sweet the ppl will talk about over and over.
AKEMIYUNA Rating: 5 stars appraisal 12/03/2008 Excellent for the kids Halloween party. Everyone got so thrilled by seeing something new on Chocolate in sponge. He even likes nuts separately but it will taste good..
BYOMFYABF Rating: 2 stars 10/01/2008 I could only give it a 2 as I had to make changes to it due to ingredients I had. First, I used Dove Dark Chocolate cocoa instead of Hershey's, no nuts, and the mashed bananas and caramel topping were a must. I did use coffee instead of the hot water, and dark margarine instead of regular, therefore I could not use light whipped cream, but I made homemade whipped cream. It had WAY too much flour in it, but i guess it could have been me measuring heavier than I should have. I also only used 2 cups of flour. it was my first bundt cake, so it was huge!!!
Here’s another batch of reviews, this time of a more chaotic char-rnn recipe:
Simple Soup Alaborate Soup Pie
6 each chopped white perserves; ** (optional but ring) 1/2 cup chopped fresh marjoram 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme 1/3 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup thinly sliced onion 1/4 cup onion (chopped) 1/2 teaspoon garlic; minced 2 small carrots 6 can dry white wine 1 tabasco sauce 1 tablespoon sugar 1/2 cup flour, whipped topping 2 tablespoon chili powder
Marinate: Serves 4. Whip and short under boiling. Add the sliced mushrooms and peppers and stir to coat. Stir the sugar and carrots. In large bowl, beat the egg to make a 1 1/2 tablespoons of the flour. Add shanks and stir it well. Spoon into a frying pan before serving.
Recipe By : DonajehLi Koubmanda
Yield: 8 servings
JEFFREY97389 Rating: 2 stars 03/03/2006 Even though everyone said this was great, I thought it was just 'OK!' The perserves gave a strange flavor to the sauce.
MATTJANDTRACER Rating: 2 stars 01/02/2009 This recipe sounded good. When it came out it tasted a bit like a casserole and not a stew. I used venison instead of deer and pork. I liked the way it turned out, but it wasnt very French.
Hammy Rating: 5 stars The g iving this as a gift as it takes about 10 less minutes but using American cheese and not blended with parsley flakes, lime-flavored gelatin, which is my husband's favorite dish from SuperValu. Just happens to be the creamy sauce. Don't worry about a pie crust.
In fact, the more chaotic the char-rnn recipe, the more chaotic the reviews tend to be, as if GPT-3 has picked up on the chaos and is trying to somehow produce reviews that could plausibly be written by whatever weird humans are visiting this mangled recipe website.
Geilded Peanuts & Crabmeat Basil
3 beef, boneless chops, or thyme, 1 lamber and flince of fresh diced in diagonal 1 parsley 2 large leeks (for garnish) 3/4 teaspoon sesame oil, seeded and peeled 1 any jeans'l-tortilla 1 pepper or cinnamon 1/4 cup baesly pinto beans. (Crushed and thawed; minced fine you recipe) 1 tomato base 1 fat in the last 5 inch plates 1 garlic clove; crushed 1/4 cup dijon mustard
In a large bowl set aside. Remove the sides from the heat and saute with a fork and cover and cook on Low for 6 to 6 hours.
Yield: 6 servings
Morales Rating: 0 stars 03/30/2008 I had high expectations for this recipe, but it was an outright flop. I don't know if the measurements were somehow incorrect or what, but I ended up with a watery mess that certainly wasn't crab salad. My girlfriend, who is a new chef liked it fine, but I really wish that the recipe didn't claim that it made six servings when it really made enough for one, if that's what we were going to call it.
Carole Rating: 5 stars Glorious sobs! This recipe will be delicious for a minumum of 1½ Hours to maximum 2½ hours Time to bring lots of fresh sized potatoes in the house or grow in the age may become quite famous
Amanda Rating: 3 stars 11/13/2009 My friend is having a birthday party and will celebrate with Camping. She's in charge of the dishes and wanted to serve food at the campfire. I'll 10th grade, my easy information for her party. It will not sound strange anyway test this task with a note to work rationally.What to take trees, portable tables for chairs, the main meal, food. I personally love the taste of it but has anyone seen a shepherd (wasn't any spices), oysters. It is sufficient
It does kind of make sense that GPT-3’s recipe reviews aren’t directly complaining about the utter weirdness of char-rnn’s recipes. Probably very few of the recipe reviews in GPT-3’s training data involved baffled complaints about nonexistent or repeated ingredients, or apocalyptic levels of recipe failure. So GPT-3 has learned that even the critical reviews tend to fall within a certain sentiment range. It’s interesting that it tries to emulate char-rnn’s primitive neural net glitchiness - I’ve noticed before that GPT-3 seems to be capable of pretending to be a much simpler neural net.
Subscribers get bonus content: After generating a few reviews, GPT-3 would sometimes go on to generate new recipes (such as “BBQ Cheeseburger Salad” which contains lime jello, whipped topping, and sliced black beans). It may have been deliberately trying to make them terrible to fit in with char-rnn’s recipes.
Speaking of AI-generated recipes: there are some absolute disasters in my book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore
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the-himawari · 3 years
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A3! 4th Anniversary Book [AIR] Translation - Q&A
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This is the familiar Q&A project from the Anniversary Book series!
We asked about interesting points from the main and backstage stories.
*Please read disclaimer on blog
---
Q: What kind of school is Fuyou University, which Masumi and Madoka attend?
A: It’s a famous, private university with a standard score of 70 or above. It has affiliated hospitals and schools, and it has a strong image of being attended by well-known and wealthy people. Incidentally, Tsumugi and Tasuku are uni alumni, and Kazunari attended the attached junior high.
Q: Please tell us about Tenma and Hiro’s recent entertainment activities.
A: Tenma entered the top ranks of the popularity ranking in the youth category and his number of commercial jobs increased. As for Hiro, his offers from overseas began to increase, and he is currently training hard in English. It seems there are many voices calling out for a Tenma & Hiro tag-team, taking advantage of the opportunity from the Act-off and special drama where they co-starred together.
Q: Please tell us about the Japanese culture that’s mainstream in Zafra.
A: In addition to classic games, anime, and sushi, character mascots are also a famous genre. Rumour has it that a certain prince is preparing for a competition to create a mascot character for the king…
Q: Please tell us about the interactions between the first generation leaders and the new members, and also what changes they brought about that the dorm. A: It’s not that frequent, but it seems the adult group sometimes meets up and drinks together at Guy’s bar. Also, when they found out Syu was paying the dorm’s utility bills, some people began saving more than before, while on the other hand, some people were less reserved…
Q: What kind of shows can you watch at Zen’s show restaurant?
A: They’re mainly dance performances by dancers, but there are also magic shows and musical performances by jazz bands. He often pulls in many unknown, but excellent performers, and quite a few people have spread their wings from there.
Q: Please let us know how Azami feels after using the cosmetics he brought from Zafra.
A: “The eyeshadow was by far the best. The fine texture was soft, and most importantly, the pigmentation was top tier. There were lots of flashy colours, but I think there were also a bunch of subtle glitter and sheer shades that are surprisingly easy to use. I also feel like the primers ain’t bad. They’re rich in beauty treatment ingredients so they don’t damage your skin much and—(rest is omitted)”, is what he said.
Q: What type of work was “Robot Ranger” that Tasuku liked when he was young?
A: It is a science fiction work where the main character, who aims to be the best engineer in the universe, uses the transformation device he developed to fight against evil, extra-terrestrial monsters with his friends. Although it received high ratings from adults since the contents were quite elaborate, the amount of toys sold was somewhat lacking since children couldn’t keep up. It has a rather peculiar position within the series.
Q: Please tell us what kind of plays Syu usually performs?
A: Basically, the first part is a play, and the second part is a dance show. Many of the plays are historical plays based off of Kabukis. A singing show is also incorporated sometimes, so if you’re lucky, you might be able to hear Syu’s singing voice…?
Q: Please tell us if there were any settings that weren’t revealed for A7!, which was held for April Fool’s.
A: Actually, there are 4 animals: The hamster Kasumi, the cheetah Hiro, the black panther Zen, and the wolf Syu. They’re retired nowadays, so they rarely appear.
Q: Please tell us about the bar that Guy is running.
A: It’s still a shop that’s only well-know to those in the know, but it’s gaining popularity from office workers (both men and women) on their way home, as they feel soothed by Guy’s composed aura and slightly air-headed personality. Of course, the alcohol and food also have a good reputation.
Q: If Yuki and Kazunari have come up with nicknames for the first gen. leaders, please secretly let us know.
A: Kasumi was given the nicknames, “fairy tale uncle” and “Kasuminu” that he asked for himself. Kazunari seems to be thinking of nicknames for the other three but he says, “I’m still shrinking the distance between our hearts right now~”. Please anticipate Kazunari’s communication power.
Q: Stew was a standard on the menu for the first generation MANKAI Company, but what kind of stew did they have? Just like the current Company’s standard of curry, did they have a menu of different arrangements?
A: There were all kinds of stew like pumpkin stew, soymilk stew, corn stew, etc. that were served by Zen, but Yukio’s favourite was the classic cream stew. By the way, Yukio’s reaction when he said “stew” and was served beef stew is still a topic of conversation at drinking parties to this day.
Q: The number of Theatre members who have a driver’s license has increased, but has there been a change in their driving or shopping situations?
A: There hasn’t been a drastic change, but Banri gets called out to pick up and send his older sister, and Taichi seems to be steadily improving his driving skills by travelling to the neighbouring city’s supermarket sales during the evening when there’s not much traffic.
Q: The members held a training camp in Zafra as a cultural exchange, but please tell us if afterwards, there is a popular cultural trend, or Zafran words that the members use between them?
A: Zafran board games are still as popular as ever, and whenever a new product is released, they’re imported regularly and are highly sought after by the members. Also, since the Zafra training camp, seasonings made from kneading various chili peppers and spices with oil are popular too, and they are also sent over regularly from Zafra.
Q: The impression of Isuke when he just came to the dorm was told from Zen’s point-of-view, but please tell us about the first impression of Isuke from the other 3 leaders’ perspectives.
A: All of them unanimously thought, “he looks clumsy.”
---
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archonanqi · 3 years
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fragile as dust / 9 - the moments of peace
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a/n - hi! I've gotten some requests to start a tag list for this series. If you’d like to be tagged with updates, please send me an ask / message / reply! Thank you. :)
ch 9 | the moments of peace
“To the left, to the left!” 
With an embarrassing screech, you lunged forward, desperately searching for any movement in the dry grass. You came up empty. Adrenaline still hot in your veins, you jumped violently when Xiangling pat you on the shoulder.
“ Your left,” Xiangling corrected, pointing in the opposite direction of which you threw yourself. 
You both stared wordlessly for a moment as the squirrel scurried away and out of sight. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, cheeks hot against the morning air. This was the third expedition you’d embarked on so far, and you’d still yet to catch anything that could move faster than a sweet flower.
“That’s okay! Just means that I’ll need to come up with some dishes to make with the ingredients we have so far!” You could almost hear the gears grinding in her brain as she rummaged through the basket of plants that you had gathered, murmuring to herself. “Is this everything we gathered today?”
You hesitated before rifling through your pockets and producing the brown, lumpy object you’d found at the start of your expedition. You weren’t sure it was even edible (it certainly didn’t smell like it), but you wondered if it might suffice to salvage the botched trip, even a little. 
“OH!” Xiangling’s eyes lit up soon as she saw what was in your hand. “Where did you find this?”
You peered at her cautiously, not sure if this was a good reaction or not. Also, her voice seemed to have hit a new high and you were worried it would begin to attract monsters. 
“Uh, back there, in those ruins. There was a bunch,” you offered, pointing in the direction. “Is it usable?”
Xiangling seemed to have begun visibly vibrating. “Usable? This is Matsutake! It’s a rare mushroom, and it’s so versatile that it can be used in place of any— Oh, I’ll explain later, let’s go get them all before a boar finds them first!” 
The sun was well above the horizon by the time you gathered enough Matsutake to fill the two baskets you’d brought. Xiangling had already started a fire with some Dendro slime concentrate — the way she’d taught you to do — when you returned from washing the mushrooms in a nearby stream. 
“Could you chop the Jueyun Chilis for me, please?” Xiangling said, barely looking up from the wok. No matter how bubbly she had been, the moment she stood in front of a blazing fire and a vast array of ingredients, Xiangling always adopted a demeanor of complete calm. It was almost unnerving to watch, sometimes, how focused she could get. You hurried to obey.
“How many?”
She peered up then, the licking flames painting her grin a bright orange. “Hansi, have I taught you nothing over the past week?” She thumped her chest twice with a flour-covered hand, “in Mondstadt, they might use measurements like cups and tablespoons— but that’s not how I do things! In Liyue, we listen to our hearts. Just let Rex Lapis guide your hand!”
You stared at the chilis. If you’re just giving out guidance nowadays , you directed your silent thoughts towards the earth beneath your feet, I’d love to know what your deal with the Vision is.
In the end, you emptied just half a chili into the wok, because even just chopping it was beginning to make your eyes water. It instantly stained the hot oil a bright red. For the rest of the morning, you watched as Xiangling bustled around your little campsite, tasting this and that, asking you for various small and bewildering favors — you certainly hope that she didn’t really use the lizard tail that she had you go hunt down. 
While at first you paid careful attention to Xiangling, the sight of a piece of Cor Lapis gleaming under the morning light dragged your thoughts elsewhere — towards what ( who ) was waiting for you when you returned home. 
“Okay!” Xiangling finally said, making you jump. “Sorry that took so long! I’ve never had so much Matsutake to experiment with at once.” She held out two neatly packaged lunch boxes. “Take these, one for you, one for Mr Zhongli! It’s Matsutake Stirfry with Potatoes and Carrots! … I’ll come up with a better name later.”
You accepted the boxes with gracious thanks, just the smell wafting from them making your mouth water. 
“I really want to see the look on your face when you taste it, but we’ve been out here for a little over five hours now,” Xiangling mused. Had it really already been five? Time seemed to fly when you were with Xiangling. “You should probably hurry home or Mr. Zhongli will get worried.”
You absently thanked her again, all the while wondering at the truth of that. Zhongli had certainly seemed a little worried after the incident with Tartaglia, briefly, though he quickly returned to his usual, unreadable demeanor. The idea that someone was waiting for you, would get worried if you never came home — it was bafflingly foreign, but also… so very warm. 
As you turned to go, you could hear the grin in Xiangling’s voice when she called after you, “and here you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to help. This dish was only possible because of you, Hansi!”
Briefly and painfully, you yearned to understand how Xiangling managed to make a good thing of any situation. It seemed that there was far more than just cooking that Xiangling could teach you.
—-------------------
“Wonderfully seasoned,” Zhongli praised that afternoon, and you prayed that he didn’t notice your cheeks blushing as red as the chili oil. “A perfect balance of spice. Did you help make this?”
You bit back a smile as you nodded, and sent Rex Lapis your silent thanks for his... guidance. 
—-------------------
Easing into Zhongli’s life was easier than you would ever have imagined. 
After your disastrous breakfast incident, you had made a habit of waking early and accompanying him on his walks in the morning — at first to make up for setting his house on fire, then later, out of enjoyment. You found yourself looking forward to your long walks, breathing in the fresh air and seeing Liyue Harbor bathed in the dawnlight. 
Before you knew it, you had memorized a few things about the mornings of Liyue: which routes to Yujing Terrace let you catch the early sunrise; what time Wanmin restaurant’s fresh shao’bing buns come out of the oven; and when little old Madame Ping, whom Zhongli always greeted respectfully, hobbled up the hill to water the glaze lilies. 
 It was only when Zhongli mentioned black perch stew and you lamented that Mr. Sun from the fish market wouldn’t get new stock until Monday, that you realized just how deeply entrenched in domestic life you had become.
There were other things you noticed too; the street corner where you used to play, sleep and beg. The sink behind the souvenir shop that you snuck to at night just to get a drink of clean water. Children who’d had the misfortune of being born like you, into families who couldn’t imagine feeding another mouth. 
These things struck you with increasing guilt — of every child of Liyue who grew up without a home, what made you deserving of salvation? — but mostly, with fear. If Zhongli got tired of you, if you once again found yourself in that life... 
Well. 
You swept those thoughts deep deep deeper into your head, and forged on.
—-------------------
“Another umbrella, Mr. Zhongli?” You raised a brow. When had you begun to point out his eccentric purchases? You weren’t sure. “We’ve bought four today.” 
“Ah,” Zhongli smiled, already reaching for the fifth. “Yes, so we have. Do you like white rabbit candy? Let’s get two bags.”
Resigned, you followed along, your exasperation quickly fizzling out as soon as you turned a corner and came face to face with the wide-eyed, dirt-smeared faces of a group of orphans. Dressed in lovely clean clothes and with so much color in your cheeks — you couldn’t imagine how you looked to them. You saw so much of yourself in their hungry gazes that you had to look away. 
You watched as Zhongli bent down so that he met them at eye level. “Please, accept these,” he held out the umbrellas, and suddenly you began finding it hard to breathe, “it looks like there’s a storm coming. And also, won’t you all also take some sweets—?”
—-------------------
You, of course, kept your contract with Zhongli, as religiously as you would one with an Adeptus, or Rex Lapis himself. Each book that you enjoyed, you meticulously brought to him as though an offering, and each time, he seemed to have something to offer of his own. A book about the Five Yaksha, tales of the Dragon King, the legend of how Guyun Stone Forest was formed, memoirs from Guili Assembly — Zhongli always had some twist of his own to add to the stories. 
“Did you know that before they came to serve Rex Lapis, the Yaksha were bound to a cruel, tyrannical God? Yet when they were freed, they chose to honor a contract to protect the humans of Liyue. How admirable.”
“Precious few stories speak of it, but the Dragon King was not sealed by Rex Lapis due to a disagreement, but rather, because he broke a contract. What contract exactly? Well, I can’t be ruining too many books for you now, can I, Hansi?”
“These illustrations of the spears that originally comprise Guyun Stone Forest are… certainly interesting. Why did they deem that stone spears formed from the essence of Geo themselves would possess tassels and a ribbon? I doubt that during the Archon War, Rex Lapis had time to consider the appearance of his weapons.” 
“My my, these books certainly are taking their liberties with their descriptions of the Goddess of Dust. Kind, yes, gentle, perhaps, but weak? Why, is the Guizhong Ballista not one of the most powerful mechanisms in all of Liyue, even thousands of years after it was built? I would truly like to see what these authors consider strength.” 
Each time you marveled at his vast pools of knowledge, Zhongli would, without fail, exhale deeply and smile his small smile. “I have a good memory,” was always his explanation. You couldn’t help but wonder just how many books the man had read in his lifetime — and where he found the time to do anything else. 
While you were frequently more than impressed by his reserve of stories, the sentiment did not seem to extend to others in Liyue. More than one time had you and Zhongli been escorted, forcibly, from the Third-Round Knockout after your companion stood up to correct the storyteller on the stage. 
The first time, you were mortified, though by the sixth you had learned to laugh it off as breezily as Zhongli did.
—-------------------
Sometimes, you recalled your earliest days at Zhongli’s house; how he had told you that your first order of business was to recover your health. 
You had recovered, and so, what was next to come? 
The house was always spotless despite the increasing number of items that Zhongli seemed to bring home each day from his walks. More than once, you reflected on his claims that he needed household help, and realized that he may not have been entirely truthful.
On particularly bad days, when the haze of doubt threatened to overtake every logical thought in your mind, you waited for his gaze to turn cruel, for his fingers to grip you painfully and for him to take whatever he wanted. 
Yet — never did he so much as touch you. 
—-------------------
The Vision sat as heavily in your conscience as it did in your bedside table.
You opened the drawer frequently to stare at the thing, more of a plague on you than a blessing, at this point. If you could not use it, then it was just an ornament — an ornament that put your  amicable acquaintanceship with Zhongli at risk. 
If he were to find out on his own, it would be so much worse than if you’d told him. The very notion of hurt, betrayal and fury in those amber eyes was almost too much for you to hear.
And so, one day, you decided that it would simply be best if you told him.
—-------------------
You rehearsed a script for hours on end, trying to guess each and every one of Zhongli’s potential reactions. Certainly, he would be upset, perhaps disappointed. You were almost sure that he would not hurt you over the discovery. And even if he did, perhaps it wouldn’t be anything you didn’t deserve, for lying for so long.
When you were finally ready, your knock on his door was answered by a deep, rich, “yes?” 
You had never seen the inside of Zhongli’s room before, and so as you pushed the door open, you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt at the idea of seeing more of the man, learning more about him.
Your gaze first laid upon his face, edged silver in the moonlight. Then, immediately, it trailed downwards, to his shoulders, then—
Zhongli wasn’t wearing even a scrap of clothing. 
“Oh,” he said, slightly raised brows betraying nothing but mild surprise, “I was changing.” 
Wordlessly, you slammed the door shut and returned to your room.
—-------------------
When Zhongli came knocking ten minutes later, you were still a little dazed. 
“Come in,” you called, and as he entered you were somewhat relieved to see that he was clad in his usual four layers of clothing. “Do you see how I said come in, Mr Zhongli? Because I wasn’t changing?”
“I believe what I said was ‘yes’.” It was never easy to tell what Zhongli was thinking, with his carefully neutral expression, but was there a small smile in his voice there?
“You can’t—“ you realized with a certain degree of shock at how casually you had begun to address Zhongli. (You searched yourself for fear, and found none.) “—You can’t just say ‘yes’ when what you mean is ‘hang on, I’m completely nude!’” 
“I do apologize. I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Zhongli said, and there was absolutely, definitely a small smile in his voice there. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Hansi?”
You opened your mouth, but paused. 
In the darkness of his room, you had barely been able to make out what seemed to be odd lines down his arms and chest — tattoos? You hadn’t expected a nobleman like him to be so covered in them. But more importantly, in the few seconds you had beheld Zhongli’s well-toned form, you had seen what you knew all too well — scars, raked across his torso, stomach, legs, the raised tissue gleaming under the moonlight. 
He had mentioned he had been fighting all his life, that he had been a soldier— but it was difficult to imagine even the Millelith facing foes so formidable that it could have left such injuries, and so many. What could have hurt him so badly? 
What was he hiding from you?
The way he was looking at you expectantly suddenly felt strangely alien; the same Zhongli you had come to know and trust, but— not quite.
And so, you swallowed your question about the Vision. “Xiangling wanted me to get a backpack,” you said instead, “for when we gather herbs. Do you think it would be okay if we got one next time, Mr. Zhongli? I promise to pay you back for it when I earn enough Mora.”
“Hansi,” he said, after his usual few seconds of careful studying, and he sounded so concerned that it was almost comical. “Whatever gave you the impression that you would be forced to pay for anything of the sort while living under my roof?” 
—-------------------
Perhaps in a valiant attempt to dissuade you of your sudden preoccupation with paying for things, Zhongli began to shower you with them. The first of the gifts was a beautiful bookmark, a thin piece of metal shaped to look like the Xiao lanterns of the Lantern Rite. It seemed to glow iridescent under lamplight, and you loved it so much that you carried it everywhere you went, the same way you never took off your glaze lily necklace.
Once Zhongli had ascertained that you did not mind gifts, and in fact enjoyed them, the floodgates swung open. Over the next few weeks, he would bring you various small items each time he returned from work or a walk: a Noctilucuous Jade hairpin, a painting of Luhua Pool, a golden gemstone that he called “Prithiva Topaz”, a small and surprisingly heavy pillar-shaped charm which he claimed came from a formidable monster from Guyun Stone Forest—
And on the most barren days, when the bustling markets of Liyue offered nothing that could meet Zhongli’s most particular standards, he would bring home various steamed buns, fresh fruit, and beverages, noting with keen amber eyes which ones were your favorites. Today, he had brought back a pitcher of “the finest gui’hua tea Liyue has to offer”. 
Sitting in a room full of memorabilia that Zhongli had picked out for you, and sipping hot tea that warmed you to your core, you began to understand the feeling of home.
—-
The men were furious. You could feel their blunt rage in the air, tense enough to cut with a blade. If your wrists weren’t tied up, you might have been able to make a run for it. 
“Welcome back. Do you know how much you cost us?” They snarled, one, two, three, four pairs of eyes staring you down. In the back, you could see the man with the scar on his eyebrow, the one who had escorted you to Zhongli. “Are you ready to pay us back?”
“Where is Mr. Zhongli?” You managed to whisper. 
“Don’t you remember? He got tired of you,” they sneered in unison. “Surely you didn’t think someone like you would be enough to satisfy his appetite?” 
Desperately, you shook your head. “He wouldn’t have. What did you do to him?”
One of them stepped forward and slapped you so hard that you briefly see white. “How stupid can you get?” His jaw cracked open into an unnatural, teeth grin, and the others followed suit all at once. “To start to trust, to start to dream ?” 
You tried to back away, but your knees would not move. They were close enough to touch now, and together, like one grotesque entity, they reached out. “You should know better by now. You should know your place .”
Before their melting, festering fingers could touch your skin, you opened your mouth and screamed for Zhongli.
—-------------------
Across the house, Zhongli’s eyes snapped open, casting the room in a golden glow.
It wouldn’t be the last, but that had been the first time you had called him simply by his name.
—-------------------
You woke up to Zhongli calling yours, and couldn’t help the violent flinch that shook your shoulders when you saw him looming over you. The relief you felt at recognizing Zhongli’s silhouette was unimaginable. 
“I heard you calling my name,” Zhongli said, raising both palms in a placating gesture. “Are you alright? Were you having a nightmare?”
Was that all it was; a dream? Your throat was hoarse — the screaming certainly wasn’t dreamed — and your chest raw from the fear and desperation. It felt like your skull was stuffed with cotton. Blindly, you reached out, relief washing away the last vestiges of the social norms instilled within you.
“You didn’t send me back?” You whispered, clutching at any patch of silk and skin you could find. “You didn’t leave?”
“No,” Zhongli met your fingers with his, holding your hand in a firm, gentle grip. He wasn’t wearing gloves, you realized absently. “Never.”
You stayed there for a few long seconds— or was it minutes? “Don’t go,” you begged when he began to pull away. Your eyelids were growing heavy, but the lingering haze of fear had you terrified of going to sleep again. “Please, don’t go.”
You heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. “I’m here, Hansi,” Zhongli said, as you watched him sit down next to your bed. He was still holding your hand. “Get some rest. I will be with you.”
Zhongli’s rich, clear voice resonated through every inch of your body. You trusted him, you realized, letting your eyes shut. You would trust him with every breath of your being.
—-------------------
When you dreamed again, you found yourself in an endless land of clouds. 
Zhongli sat in the midst of it all, eyes closed, unmoving. The soft glow of stars formed a nimbus of gold and dust around his temples. His chest rose and fell gently, and you were certain that you would see no better embodiment of peace for the rest of your life, not even if you lived for a thousand years. 
You wanted to call out to him, but to break the tranquility of the moment seemed unforgivable. 
And so for the rest of the night, you watched him breathe; and you were content.
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ieattaperecorders · 3 years
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Something's Different About You Lately - Epilogue: Borrowed Time
Life goes on, impossibly.
Read on Ao3
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Martin shifted the bag of groceries in his arms as he climbed the stairs, still feeling a bit nervous.
The dinner had been Jon's idea – his O&M instructor was covering kitchen skills, and he'd thought it would be fun for the two of them to try making something together. The recipe had sounded a little elaborate to Martin, who'd protested that he didn't cook much, but Jon promised that it wasn't beyond them. He added that Martin was ‘perfectly capable' in the kitchen anyway, and said it with such prim, knowing confidence that Martin hadn't even bothered to ask. Before he knew it, he was writing down a list of ingredients to bring over.
He supposed that was just going to keep happening, Jon telling him things about himself. It was . . . strange. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes just annoying. Occasionally it made him feel sentimental and a little bit sad in a way he couldn't put his finger on.
The door to the flat opened after a moment of knocking, and he smiled as Jon appeared.
"Hi Jon, it's Martin," he said. He'd read online it was polite to say your name, to not assume the other person will recognize your voice. "I've got the groceries."
"I know it's you, Martin." His tone was light and a little condescending, and Martin felt heat rise to his ears. "Come on inside. You know where the kitchen is."
Martin slipped past him and set down the bag, pulling things out and arranging them on the counter as Jon followed him to the kitchen.
"The store was out of chili paste," he mentioned.
Jon shrugged. "We'll improvise, then."
"If you say so."
Jon began taking out cookware, placing things down wherever he found counter space. "Do anything interesting today?" he asked, over the clatter of pans.
"Not especially. Filled out a few applications, then took a walk," he said. "Met a really friendly dog in the park."
"Flattered that you tore yourself away to come here."
"Wasn't by choice, her owner wouldn't let me keep her."
"How unreasonable."
It was weird, not having to worry so much about money. Not that Martin was complaining of course, but there was still a voice in his head telling him he was being too slow and selective in his job search, that it was lazy of him. And he felt anxious dipping into the new funds too much.
He'd just about gone into conniptions when Sasha told him what she'd done while she'd been fiddling with Elias's computer. Embezzlement might not have been an escalation when they were already committing arson, but they could still get caught, and wouldn't a financial windfall point a lot of suspicion towards them? But she kept assuring him that it was untraceable, some hidden fund Elias had, ready to be drawn on by anyone with the account information. The running theory was that he'd been keeping it for his next identity, which . . . yeah, the less Martin thought about that, the better.
Fear of discovery aside, he couldn't deny it was nice having a buffer like this. There was space he'd never had before to think about where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do with himself. And with the bills taken care of, Jon could focus his time on recovering. At the urging of his O&M teacher (and some amount of prodding on Martin's end) he'd even started talking to a counselor every few weeks. It was ostensibly just about handling the emotions that come up with sudden, traumatic vision loss, and he doubted Jon would be discussing the more exotic traumas he'd been through. Still. It was probably good he had something like that.
They went about the business of prepping ingredients, talking idly about food, things they'd done in the past few days, updates from Tim and Sasha. Martin's initial nerves already dissolving into the steady flow of conversation. There was something comfortable, he reflected, in being around someone who was so comfortable with him.
"Would you mind--" Jon frowned, fiddling with the hob on the stove. "I've got this, I'm fairly sure. Just . . . make sure I keep the pan centered?"
"Sure."
He came to stand behind Jon, watching over his shoulder as he set the carefully oiled pan on the stove and turned on the heat. Martin was a terribly distracted spotter, his attention frequently straying from the pan to look at Jon's face, pinched slightly in concentration. There was a single bead of sesame oil on his cheek, and it made his intensely serious expression that much more charming.
Despite his concerns, Jon had the pan well handled as he heated the oil and added in the aromatics. Martin only noticed him drifting once, the flames going high on one side of the pan.
"A little left," he advised.
In a moment of impulse and bravery, Martin curved an arm around him – placing a hand on his elbow, then running it down his arm to cover Jon's hand with his own, guiding the pan carefully into place. Jon leaned back, fitting the curve of his body into Martin's and sighing deeply.
"God, I've missed this," Jon exhaled. "Just . . . cooking dinner with you. All these little domestic things."
His voice was so unselfconsciously fond. It made Martin dizzy, just how easily affection poured out of him.
In hindsight, at least part of Jon's strange, awkward behavior around Martin had been a result of him holding back, wary of letting his feelings show. He never held anything back now -- his demeanor going from nonchalant or haughty to unbelievably soft and loving at the slightest prompting. It still took Martin by surprise, inspiring so much unreserved affection in someone. It wasn't anything he'd usually associate with himself. It was strange, and lovely, and at times made him feel almost frighteningly powerful.
He leaned forward, kissing the soft skin just beside Jon's ear. Jon smiled, holding his pose for a moment before gradually returning his attention to the pan, shaking it gently to move the vegetables around. Martin kept a hand on his, now fully for the sake of touch rather than any pretense of assistance, letting Jon's movements guide them both.
"Did we cook together in that cabin a lot?" he asked.
Jon nodded. "It was one of a handful of things we could do that felt . . . well, like a date, I suppose. We couldn't really go anywhere since we were lying low. I mean, we could walk around the area, isolated as it was, but trips to the village were all short and functional. So preparing something elaborate together made an evening feel special," he smirked. "You used to get defensive, too, just like today . . . saying you didn't really cook, like you were trying to lower my expectations."
"In my defense, I never said I didn't cook, just . . . ." Not since mum left , he thought. "Not for a while."
"To be honest, we were both at a disadvantage in that kitchen," Jon continued. "There weren't a lot of modern conveniences there. The power came from a generator, and the stove was an ancient, wood-burning thing that neither of us quite knew what to do with at first. Took a lot of trial and error before we really managed."
"Sounds cozy."
"Oh yes. So cozy we almost suffocated ourselves before we figured out how to adjust the vents."
Martin smiled, listening to Jon describe the little kitchen in that place. The cabin in Scotland had supposedly been a remote safehouse the two of them laid low in, but the way Jon talked about it sometimes it might as well have been a romantic holiday retreat. He made it sound so nice that Martin once idly suggested they go see it someday. Jon had gone tense and quiet at that, had shaken his head and said softly that they had to stay far, far away from that place. That there was nothing good that happened there now.
Jon was mostly open about the things he remembered. But sometimes "open" meant he'd easily speak at length about something, and other times "open" meant he'd answer your questions with short, one-sentence explanations, volunteering nothing unless pushed. And anything about the police officers he'd apparently worked with fell solidly into the second category.
Sometimes it seemed like they might have been friends, but Jon was always adamant that no one ever try to contact them. Daisy in particular seemed hard to talk about. Martin did know about the coffin. Jon had told him in a soft, emotional voice how another Martin had stepped from his cloud of isolation to set out tape recorders calling him home, how it had been one of very few things that let Jon believe he hadn't given up on him yet. And he knew something had been different about Daisy after the coffin, some sinister force like the one that had kept them at the Institute had loosened its hold on her.
He also knew that Jon was terrified of her, that he said again and again she was too dangerous to go near. That something about her made him sad -- and, Martin suspected, guilty, though he wasn't sure why. It was a topic he'd decided not to push . . . if Jon ever wanted to talk more about it, he would in his own time.
There were other things, things closer to home for Martin that Jon had hesitated over. Once while he was recounting the events of those years he'd paused mid-sentence. Stammered that it wasn't all supernatural in nature and some of it may still happen, and was he sure he wanted to know everything? Martin imagined Jon thought he was being subtle, but it wasn't a hard guess.
He told Jon not to give him the date. It was obviously going to be within the next couple of years, there was no spitting out that apple of knowledge. But he didn't want to be able to mark it on his calendar.
It shouldn't have felt like news, that his mum was going to die soon. Shouldn't have been the uncomfortable weight in his chest that it was. She was ill, of course it was coming, it had been coming for a while, hadn't it? But maybe that was the problem. It had been ‘any day now' for such a long time, ‘any day' had stopped feeling like a reality. And he still wasn't sure what to do with this information, if it really changed anything. Should he try to get some sort of closure? How did you make the most of the time you had left with a person who refuses to see you?
Martin hadn't asked Jon how much he knew about his mum, that just wasn't a conversation he was eager to have. But the careful, hesitant way Jon talked around the subject suggested . . . something, at least. Just like how the gentle, quiet tone he got when he talked about the Lonely told Martin more than he really wanted to have explained.
There was only one thing Jon flatly refused to tell him about, and that was whatever Elias had done to him on the day of the Unknowing. When pushed, Jon had gone quiet for a while, then said he didn't remember. It had been a lie, and a bad one, and both of them knew it. But it was clear there was no point in asking for more.
"You like pizzelles, don't you?"
Jon's voice snapped Martin to the present. With a last squeeze of Martin's hand, he turned off the flame, moved away from the stove and over to the pantry.
"Um, dunno?" Martin said, pulling his thoughts back together. "Never tried them."
"Really?" Jon frowned, pausing halfway to the cabinet door. Then he shrugged. "Well, no matter. You will."
Martin rolled his eyes. Jon spoke with so much more authority than anyone deserved to hold over another person's cookie preferences, and he couldn't help feeling contrary.
"No. You stepped on a butterfly last week and set off a chain of events that forever changed my feelings on pizzelles, I hate them now."
"That's all right," Jon said, popping open the plastic package and arranging the cookies on a plate. "If you don't want these, there's also canned peaches for dessert."
"Oh, don't you dare --"
Jon snickered, picking out a broken piece of one of the large, thin cookies and holding it out, just short of passing it into Martin's mouth. With an annoyed grunt, Martin leaned forward, taking a bite.
Damn it. It was really, really good.
---
Jon sank into the couch, pleasantly full and a little bit tired. He leaned back and listened to the sound of running water coming from the next room.
Martin had insisted on doing the dishes, on the basis that Jon had done "all the real work" of cooking. He wasn't sure that was true, but didn't argue. Just asked that he leave everything in the drainboard when he was finished so Jon could put it away later. He knew he'd be frustrated for hours if the dishes weren't where he expected them to be.
There were so many frustrations in his life now. His O&M instructor had promised he'd learn new ways to move through the world, that in time the frustrations would be fewer and fewer, and he'd find himself capable of nearly everything he'd done before the loss of his sight. Jon believed her, but it didn't make the prospect of getting there any less daunting. Nor did it make the learning process any easier.
The worst were the things his instructor would never understand, that no resource or guidebook would mention. The dread that gripped him when he became disoriented and found a door where he wasn't expecting one. The phantom tickles on his body that prompted him to pat himself down for spiders again and again.
Still. He was alive. The others were freed from the institute, and he was there with them, to struggle and to mourn and to continue on.
A part of him would always fear it had been a mistake. That the Web, or the Eye, or some other power still had plans for him that would reach apotheosis someday. Maybe he saw the fear as vigilance, as though something was waiting for him to feel safe so that it could rip that security from him. And as long as he never allowed himself to be truly, entirely at ease, that day would never come.
Irrational, perhaps. But it was so hard to tell anymore which irrational fears were truly irrational, and which would one day manifest with teeth and claws.
Even if nothing ever came for him, they had only bought the world some time. One day, maybe soon, someone would figure it out and attempt a ritual again. Maybe there would be others out there who would catch it in time, postponing the end over and over, forever. Or maybe someone would do it next week, and Jon would be plunged along with everyone else into unspeakable suffering until Terminus claimed them all. He could follow Gertrude's path if he chose, devote his life to stopping rituals at the cost of everything he cared for. Even then one could slip past him, come from someplace he hadn't been watching, or had been made not to notice. At some point he was going to have to find a way to live with that knowledge.
He'd work on it. But for the moment . . . .
The sound of running water stopped. Jon smiled, scooting to make room on the couch, feeling the cushions sink and shift as they took the weight of another person. With a hmm that came out with more whine to it than he'd wanted, Jon found Martin's arm and tugged it towards him. With a quiet laugh, Martin obliged, leaning into him and resting his head against his chest.
"Better," Jon arranged their limbs more comfortably. Martin's hands were still cold, and he smelled faintly of dish soap.
"Glad to hear it."
Jon knew Martin found it amusing, how clingy he was. The first time he'd commented on it had been profoundly embarrassing. Part of it was just the way Jon was, but he also remembered the days after the Lonely. The skittish, uncertain moments of contact, the times when Martin stiffened at his touch but whimpered when he pulled away. The other days, when they could barely let go of one another, when Jon would plant himself beside Martin or wrap his arms over his shoulders, and he would relax into it, sighing with release. Both of them too grateful for the fragile miracle of each other's touch to consider breaking contact.
This Martin didn't remember those days, and if he ever sensed anything desperate or reverent in the way Jon clung, he didn't comment on it. Still, even if he found it funny, he didn't seem to mind how ardently Jon held on to him.
Jon moved a hand into the space between Martin's shoulder blades and scratched down his spine, the particular way he used to like. Jon felt him shiver with pleasure under the soothing contact, and a powerful warmth spread through him.
"God . . ." Martin whispered, "you really know everything about me, don't you?"
Jon snorted. "Hardly. In a very real way, we barely had time to get to know each other. And when we did, well . . . it was close by necessity. It was intimate, and intense. But there's still a great deal I've no idea about."
"You were never tempted to use those powers of omniscience to look inside my head?"
"Constantly," Jon said, with great seriousness. "But I never did. I promised."
Martin went quiet at that. Maybe Jon's reply had been a little intense, or maybe Martin hadn't actually realized that looking inside his head had been a possibility when he'd asked the question as a joke.
"Oh," he said eventually. "Um . . . good?"
"I have picked up a few things," Jon continued, speaking with quiet and fond admiration. "For example . . . I know you'd like a pet, but your landlord won't allow them so you keep plants instead. You can't say no to panhandlers. You have a favorite hoodie that you only wear when you're sad and need the comfort. You like old, careworn furniture, and rainy days, and sitcoms that were made before you were born. You're kind to people who aren't kind to you, but you never forget the unkindness."
"Wow. Okay," Martin made a soft noise, shifting in his arms, voice tight and quiet. "Okay. Y-You're, uh, probably going to kill me if you keep that up, you know."
"Trust me, you've survived worse."
He felt Martin move a little higher, slotting himself beside Jon and giving him a tight squeeze. Jon grinned as the breath was pushed out of him, all twenty-four of his ribs contracting at the assault.
That was another difference, one of dozens of subtle changes Jon couldn't keep his mind from analyzing. Martin wasn't ungentle, exactly. But he hugged Jon more tightly, shoved or poked him when he was annoyed, whereas the Martin in his memories had held back a little. Been more mindful of his strength, as if wary he might handle him too roughly. It had been subtle, a thing Jon hadn't even noticed until he had something to contrast it against.
It made sense, he supposed. The other Martin had seen Jon limp back to the institute with fresh wounds and new scars one too many times. This one didn't have to have those images in his head.
There were some things that were lost between them, Jon knew that. Memories too small and simple to explain, questions he couldn't ask anymore. Moments they would never share, both good and bad. But there was also so much they had gained. This Martin hadn't had an easy life, not by any measure. But he hadn't had to watch helplessly as the people around him died or disappeared or became monstrous. Hadn't been lost in grinning corridors, or attacked by Hopworth's hooligans, or made to feel the heat of the endless tenement fire. And for that, Jon was so, so grateful.
"You look thoughtful," Martin commented.
"Mmm," Jon sat quietly for a while sifting through his thoughts before speaking. "We should go to a movie sometime. When I'm up for going out out."
"That sounds less fun for you than me . . . ."
"Depends on the movie. I could listen, even without description. And I'd enjoy being with you," he said. "Or maybe a concert? Though I don't really know what sort of music you like . . . ."
"Really? There's actually a blank spot in your catalogue of Martin trivia?" he said sarcastically. "Surprised it never came up."
"You only ever used headphones at work," Jon bristled, feeling oddly defensive about it, "and we obviously couldn't bring our devices to the cabin. Too traceable."
"Hmm," there was a teasing smile in Martin's voice. "Don't know if I want to tell, now. Feels like I've got a secret."
"Oh, except . . . there was one song? I don't know the lyrics, but you used to hum it all the time in the cabin."
"What was it called?"
"I didn't actually ask. It sounded nice, though. Maybe we could listen to it together. . . "
"How'd it go, then?"
He hummed the tune from memory. It came easily to mind, connected as it was with images of Martin sipping tea or wiping down a countertop, a bright, easy smile on his face. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing.
"That's -- that's from a soap commercial!"
". . . What?"
"Floors and doors, walls and halls, Liquid Lather cleans them all," he spoke-sang along with the tune. "It was probably just stuck in my head."
Jon frowned, mildly disappointed. "Well. It sounded nice when you were humming it, anyway."
"God. If you want I can serenade you with an insurance advert sometime."
"No thank you."
"Or we could listen to your album from uni," he pushed, the satisfied smile in his voice growing.
"Thankfully we never recorded anything," Jon grinned ruefully, "so that's lost to time."
"Bet you could still sing some of it."
"Try me the next time I'm not expecting to live through the night."
Martin made a displeased sound at that, but said nothing.
"I'm sorry that you always have to come over here," Jon said. "I should probably be making more of an effort to get out of the flat. But it's so much still, even with a guide. I can do it if I have to, but I can't relax."
"C'mon . . . you know I don't mind, and even if I did it wouldn't be something to apologize for. You're going at your own pace."
"Suppose I'm just impatient with myself. It feels absurd, I've walked through a London warped by unfathomable terror, but now ordinary city life is overwhelming. I think I never understood how many people there are on every block until each one became another unpredictable factor to be aware of on my way to the damn corner store," he sighed. "It may be a while before I'm up for anything like a concert."
"It's alright," Martin gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm good at waiting."
For a moment Jon's mind went to a dark, creaking bedroom, air heavy with dust and thick with terror. It's all right. I'm good at waiting. The same phrasing, almost the same tone. Maybe it was to be expected, little parallels like this. Given a person's linguistic habits and enough time it was probably inevitable, but every time something like it happened it floored Jon in the most wonderful way. Some small but meaningful part of the man he loved reflecting and echoing back at him.
If the world didn't end, if he didn't dissolve into spiders or die at the hands of some unfathomable terror, Jon swore someday he'd find the words for how moments like that made him feel. And if he had any courage left in him, he'd tell Martin about it.
"Though, as long as we're talking about that," Martin said, "I've been thinking . . . ."
"In general?" Jon teased.
"Sort of. I've been reading some stuff about adjusting to vision loss? And I know this is fast – well, maybe not fast to you – but it seems to me like it's probably easier, especially at first, if you've got a sighted person staying with you . . ."
He felt himself breathe in sharply, and Martin's words came faster, his tone careful.
"Not - not to do everything for you, of course! I know you can do things yourself. Just to make little things easier, and – you know, that aspect aside it – it might just be nice –"
"Yes," Jon said decisively.
"Because it isn't really just the vision thing – I mean, it's alright if you do need help but it's also alright if you don't – but there's other reasons – "
"My answer is yes."
A faint laugh came out of Martin and he slapped Jon's chest lightly. "Stop agreeing and let me finish."
"Sorry."
"I'm not suggesting moving in. That would be too fast, at least for me," he said. "I'd want to keep my own place, and I'd probably still spend some time there."
"Of course," Jon nodded solemnly. "Perfectly reasonable to want some space of your own."
"Yeah. But if it works for you, I thought I might get a bag together, y'know, just sort of stay for a while? I – hell, I wouldn't, uh, mind the excuse to cook more dinners with you? And I slept better than I had in a while the night I stayed over here."
"So did I."
"I just think it might be nice. If you think so too, of course."
There was a pause as Jon waited, not sure if Martin had more to say. After the silence had dragged on for a while, he spoke up. "Am I allowed to say yes now?"
Martin laughed, nodding against Jon's chest.
"Then yes. I'd be very happy to have you stay here with me."
"Cool. Cool . . . " Martin exhaled. " . . . I love you."
"And I love you."
"More than I'll ever know?"
There was a teasing smile in Martin as he echoed the words Jon had said to him back in the tunnel. Jon was quiet for a moment.
He'd meant those words when he'd said them. It hadn't been a romantic turn of phrase. He'd confessed his feelings in that moment with the understanding that Martin would never be able to see how deep they ran. That he could tell Martin he loved him, but he'd never be able to show him that. He wouldn't have the chance. He found Martin's cheek with a hand, turned his face towards him, then bent down and kissed him, once.
"No," he said. "Not if I can help it."
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miyu-hyperfixates · 4 years
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Random post-canon/backstory MDZS headcanon #3
After spending so much time with LSZ, WWX got a lot of opportunity to learn more about his adoptive son. So he often asks LXC, LJY and LWJ stories about LSZ’s childhood. And so he learned about  the influences of the adults in LSZ’s life and how it affected his personality and behavior.
For example, while his gentle and diplomatic personality obviously came from the influence of his equally diplomatic uncle (no example needed to be mention, it was pretty obvious seeing as LWJ has all but appointed LSZ as his spokesman), one could sometimes still spot here and there the tiny bits of pure stubbornness that were all LWJ. 
During the period where LWJ had been bedridden due to his injuries, LSZ was only allowed to visit him once a month [in an utter bitterly mirror of what happened with Madam Lan]...  Except that LSZ despite not remembering his past had separation issues and was absolutely anxious at the idea of not seeing LWJ often... So in the beginning LQR would panic anytime he lost sight of LSZ who apparently was very good at disappearing on him, only to find him later in the Jingshi, snuggled beside a sleeping LWJ. 
After the tenth times basically LQR gave up on lecturing him and just let him live in the Jingshi. [By the way what LQR didn’t know was that LXC had been purposely helping LSZ sneaking away, because he’s still fucking bitter about their childhood and didn’t want his nephew to grow up like them]  
According to LJY, LSZ was also prone to bouts of mischievousness though it manifested in such a way that most of the time no one ever see it coming and even if they did, they never directly connect it with LSZ (even when LSZ pranked them right in their face). It used to drive LJY crazy when they were kids but now he just finds it hilarious, especially since he realized that LSZ seriously lacked self-awareness on that matter.
Because whenever LSZ planned to prank someone or break the rules, he’d copy the rules two times preemptively. And he thought that the teachers/people in charge were aware of it and so when he inevitably got caught for pranking someone/breaking the rules they won’t add any punishment because LSZ had already punish himself. That’s the argument LSZ gave to LJY whenever the latter mocked LSZ about never getting into trouble even when he wanted to. 
And so, to prove his point, one day when they were something like ten or eleven, LJY had thrown LSZ’s stash of self-punishment right in front of a senior and casually said “Sizhui was the one who gave a small stash extra-candies to the shidis. He disciplined himself accordingly, please verify his work.” And the senior’s reaction was to laugh and shake his head, “You really don’t need to find such excuses to copy rules, we all know Sizhui loves to copy rules on his free time! Sizhui is such a diligent disciple, don’t be ashamed of what you like to do.” LSZ: ...... LJY *laughing his ass off and vindictively pointing at his best friend*: See! It’d probably take befriended demonic cultivators or fierce corpses for anyone to notice you did something wrong and punish you! [Jingyi has super prophetic powers, fight me]
Of course when WWX learned about it he laughed his ass off, patting LSZ on the shoulder and telling him how proud he was. WWX: I was afraid that growing up with the Lans would have make you all mature and all... But I’m so glad there’s still some of that little shit who used to con Lan Zhan into buying him toys in you. LSZ *with a straight face* : Wei-qianbei, if you don’t stop laughing I’ll add a dozen cups of salt in your chili oil... WWX, narrowing his eyes: you’re bluffing. LSZ *smiling serenely*
About like two weeks later, the entire Gusu Lan sect saw WWX making a weird dying noise right after eating a bit of his spicy dish and then coughing and rushing to gulp down a whole barrel of water. All the while cursing, while LSZ just sweetly smiled in the background and LJY patted him on the back. LJY: See, Wei-qianbei, I told you, right in the face, and you still didn’t saw him coming.
What came as a surprise to WWX is that apparently, sometimes seemingly out of the blue [but not really, you just needed to notice the warning signs] LSZ would almost totally forego the “good and sweet diplomatic route” and immediately jump into the “still polite but with a cold and very sharp edge that will stab you one hundred times where it hurt most”.
LSZ has a very distinctive line when it concerns disparaging words or attacks towards his family and whoever he considers his friends and well.... As all of his acquaintances are pretty much badasses, he usually doesn’t really feel the need to intervene, they can pretty much fight their own battle themselves... But if he even feels the slightest hint that his friends/family are unsettled then he’d immediately plant himself like this huge mountain right between whatever threats and his friends/family and then - regardless of whom he’s talking to - he’ll cause a huge scene where he’ll demand a public apology.
LJY used to be bullied when he was a kid because he was too loud and brash and didn’t know how to act like a Lan at all [I hc that LJY’s parents are actually both Lan, coming from two different branches, which technically makes him the most Lan to ever Lan]. And whenever it happened LSZ would come to his rescue, standing right in front of him. Then he’d proceed to list all the rules that the other party had broken before ending with “Please apologize to Jingyi and then go to Hanguang-Jun for discipline.”
After hearing about those, WWX felt a strange pang in his heart without really knowing why... For some reasons, LSZ’s behavior just seemed very familiar.
It’s only when he himself witnessed one of those as LSZ defended JL that it clicked. It was JYL... LSZ was acting like WWX’s shijie.
So it turned out that LWJ had raised LSZ in a way that he thought WWX would have like his son to be raised. And whose values and behaviors better than WWX’s beloved shijie? But the thing is, LWJ didn’t really know much about JYL personally... The few things that he knew was what he heard from WWX: she was gentle, caring, made the best lotus root pork ribs soup ever, loved her brothers very much and that was about it. 
But  LWJ did witness the Phoenix Mountain scene.... and boy did it made a lasting impression in his mind. And that’s what he ended up teaching LSZ too. [ Small LSZ of course didn’t know that the person in LWJ’s story was JYL but he still thrived to emulate that amazing person]  
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rosethornewrites · 3 years
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Fic: and sings the tune without the words, ch. 3
Relationship: Jiāng Yànlí & Jīn Zǐxuān, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Characters: Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian
Additional Tags: Epistolary, Food, Music
Summary: An epistolary follow-up to “the thing with feathers.” Exchanged letters.
Notes: See end.
Previous fic in the series: “the thing with feathers”
Chapters: 1 | 2
AO3 link
--------------
To Jin-gongzi,
I sincerely apologize for the delay in writing back. A-Xian had an episode, like the one you saw, but he was unconscious for two days and very frightened and confused after he woke. I had a letter started before that occurred but am writing a new one now. 
I am glad you like Zihuang’s design. When a-die took me to the luthier, we discussed the various options available for both sound and decoration. Since my practice instrument was a shoo konghou, they recommended I choose the same, but the fong shou design called to me. 
I decided on the mother of pearl instead of a precious metal or jade because I liked the shine of it, but also for another reason. Before A-Xian fell ill, he and A-Cheng always brought me lovely shells they found while swimming in the river. They used to compete with each other to see who could find the most diving. So the nacre reminds me of them. I don’t know if A-Xian remembers this—perhaps I should mention it to him. 
I confess I am still a little distressed over A-Xian’s episode, so I apologize if I go off on tangents.
As a result of my childhood illness, I sometimes have dizzy spells. Largely it is under control, but Healer Kang said that improving my core might also improve my health. I’m happy that I can find a way to contribute to Yunmeng Jiang even with a weak body. I agree that there should be more avenues available to young cultivators who may not be able to fight monsters—if the sects encouraged such disciples to utilize their cultivation to heal or engage in other activities that would enrich the sect, it would only strengthen the sects!
Cooking is an activity I quite enjoy, and I would be happy to serve lotus root and pork rib soup sometime when you visit. My soup was the very first thing he remembered, actually. When A-Xian first came to us, he was scared and so malnourished, and I always cook it for him and A-Cheng, especially when they’re sick or troubled. I’m happy cooking it for him meant so much to him that it broke through his amnesia. 
Your suggestion about handstands was something I tried. It was very difficult, and I was so involved in trying to do one that I forgot Lan-xiansheng was coming to give me a music lesson. It was so embarrassing to be caught, as I was a little disheveled. But he smiled—I think he almost laughed, even, especially after I explained. 
He said your idea is sound, but I will need to work my way up to an actual handstand. For now, he showed me several exercises I can do to work on my muscles, and recommended I do the arm motions of sword forms with a light practice wooden one. I can move to heavier ones as my strength increases, and eventually I will be ready for handstands. Thank you for the suggestion. I am glad I can speak of this with you. 
I was unable to find a konghou score in our library, but I can write to Lan-xiansheng to ask if there is one in theirs. I, too, enjoy that song, though there’s a sadness to it, since it’s a farewell song. I may not be at the level where I can play it yet, but it is good to know what music you like. 
One of our cooks is from Lanling, but not near the capitol. I asked her about those dishes, and she knows them and will be happy to prepare them next time you visit. She’s also willing to teach me how to cook them! She cooked up basi pinggou for dessert once A-Xian recovered, even, and we all very much enjoyed it. It’s so sweet, and the texture is very pleasant. A-Xian and A-Cheng competed to make the longest thread of sugar.
Yunmeng cuisine is indeed known for its spice—but never take food from A-Xian, since he goes overboard with the spices. He dumps chili oil on everything, except my soup which he insists is perfect. 
I am very fond of re gan mian (hot dry noodles), and I like pianpiya (Hubei duck) which you might enjoy since one of the dishes you mentioned is a duck dish. As a dessert, I am very fond of sweet doufunao (tofu brains/pudding). 
A-Lian was a gift from the lotuses, our beautiful lotus meimei. A-Xian’s illness changed quite a bit for us. A-Niang became protective of him, and she started talking to a-die more. She also decided that we should seek orphans and street children and educate them so they may become cultivators, if they have the capacity, or take on a trade. She’s also made it her personal mission to rescue women enslaved at brothels so they might also be able to be educated and learn trades. Our family has grown, as has our sect, and we’re all very happy. 
I think a-niang is happy to have found more purpose, and to have reconciled with a-die. They had deep misunderstandings, I think. A-Xian’s illness forced them to talk, and things are much better now. 
I am including some of the rose petal candy you enjoyed with this letter. I hope it finds you and your family well.
Jiang Yanli
  To Jiang-guniang,
Your gift of rose petal candy is much appreciated. 
I am sorry to hear of your brother’s illness; you obviously care deeply for all of your siblings, so I have no doubt it was distressing for you. When I was there, he passed out for no more than a ke, which seemed from the reaction of everyone to be more typical. Yu-furen mentioned he was attacked and fell into a coma for weeks. It is quite understandable that you are distracted. Is he recovered?
The choices behind your konghou are interesting. I have not engaged in music beyond a rudimentary grasp of the suona as a pursuit of the six arts, but perhaps I should refine my skills and consider music more carefully. As you stated, we need not limit ourselves to the sword as cultivators. 
As such, I agree with you on pursuing cultivation for healing and perhaps the arts. I wonder if cultivation could be utilized in the visual arts, as well. I tried to speak of it with fuqin but he seemed disinterested and called the idea “quaint.” I believe it is a good idea—no one thinks the Lan quaint for pursuing musical cultivation, and I have heard a branch of the Wen sect is known for its healing cultivation. In fact, you might look into them, though I don’t know what branch it is. 
It sounds very much like you have used cooking almost as a healing art for the benefit of your brother. I wonder if, like with medicine, qi can be infused in food somehow. Maybe not for healing, but for other things like comfort. I have never considered this before, and I am enjoying this discussion. I may research it in the library here, but I would like to know what you find if you look into it as well. Regardless, your cooking sounds powerful on its own. 
I had not considered the status of your body, which you mentioned was weakened by your childhood illness, and I am relieved you did not injure yourself in the attempt. That is a very real consideration if you push your body too much; I once tried one of the more advanced Jin sword techniques before I was ready to and wound up hurting my shoulder. I’m glad Lan-xiansheng prevented any harm from coming to you. 
I will see if there is a konghou score for it in the Jin library, but it could probably be adapted for the konghou by a musician, perhaps with different levels so you can start with a simpler version and then progress as you improve. That’s usually how I learn footwork and sword technique. I’m not sure if your sect trains the same way. 
Your description of your brothers eating basi pinggou made me smile, as I do the same thing. It’s part of the fun of eating it when it’s hot. I’m happy to hear you enjoyed it, and I hope you also enjoy the other dishes when you get to try them. 
Some of our cuisine is spicy, but I can scarcely imagine eating something spicier than Yunmeng dishes—your brother must like strong flavors. 
I have been living in Koi Tower my entire life, but somehow had never gone to the kitchens before. The cooks were very startled to see me. I asked about the dishes you mentioned, and one of the cooks was familiar with Yunmeng cuisine. She cautioned me that the spice can be quite strong but can be adjusted to taste. In Lanling, our doufunao is salty, so I was surprised it could be a sweet dish. 
The cook kindly made a small bowl of it and allowed me to watch the preparation. She used ginger in the syrup. It was a little strange at first, since I’m used to it being a savory dish, but it was quite good. I asked if the kitchen would consider occasionally serving it for dessert with dinner and making it when you and your family come to visit, and they were amenable. 
I don’t quite understand what you mean by “a gift from the lotuses,” but it is not my place to pry. Yu-furen stated she was Jiang Wuxian’s adopted sister, so it makes sense that she would also become your sister upon his adoption. 
Yu-furen’s idea about orphans and street children seems sensible, especially given your brother’s past. Some gentry may be concerned about elevating the status of such children, though. She may face criticism for this, and for the other. I know a-niang hates prostitutes, but I don’t think it’s their fault if they’re slaves. What else can slaves do but obey? Rescuing them seems just. 
Your parents’ relationship has turned quite positive, and it seems good for you and your siblings. 
I am including some of my favorite malt candies in several flavors, and enough that your family can try them as well. My favorite is the date walnut candy. I hope you enjoy them. 
With best regards,
Jin Zixuan
---------------
Jin Zixuan is a little jealous that Jiang Yanli’s family is so happy and his, well, isn’t. He’s also tentatively fascinated by their discussion of cultivation, and a little mad that his shitty father won’t discuss it with him. He’s also aware of why his mother hates prostitutes but is not willing to say so. 
From fan-created maps, it seems Lotus Pier is in Hubei province, so I used several dishes from there as Jiang Yanli’s favorites. Doufunao is called tofu brains but is a kind of soft pudding tofu. In Shandong province it would be made with savory flavors, but in Hubei it’s made with sugar. Cantonese cooking apparently uses ginger with it, and the recipe I found also does. I also found a recipe for date walnut candy that looks divine. 
Also, apparently the suona is popular in Shandong province, but also kind of sounds like the mating call of a peacock and I just couldn’t help myself. Music is one of the six arts young gentlemen would be expected to have some proficiency in, so it makes sense that he has at least rudimentary competence. 
Jiang Yanli upped the ante by sending him the candy he noted enjoying. And Jin Zixuan is not one to be outdone, so of course he sent some back, and enough for her siblings to boot! This is a matter of pride!
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History lesson: The fake Sonic Boom TV show leak from 2014
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The Sonic franchise is no stranger to both real and fake leaks, I can tell that from the journet to the film alone! But over the years there have been several fake leaks going around, and this has to be one of the most insane ones.
The year is 2014, Sega was working on big reboot to their flagship franchise, which would include a big game and a TV show alongside it. Fans didn’t have much to go off besides this one image teasing the characters’ redesigns (which was obviously memed to death)...that is until they got a statement from a supposed storyboard artist working on the show.
I was unable to find the original 4-Chan thread, but I did find all the information, so we’re going to go over this trainwreck of a rumor together.
The premise of the show is simple yet strange, Sonic and friends have to battle Eggman through different locations and time periods to keep him from rewriting history. The heroes come from a good future (which serves as the show’s hub world) while the villains come from a bad one.
MAIN CHARACTERS
Sonic himself isn’t too different, still a cool super-fast dork who loves chili dogs. He has a Marty McFly inspired design with a hover board for water and everything. Oh and he uses a night light, which is pretty cute.
Tails is still the genius engineer and pilot. He’s not a fan of adventuring but will begrudgingly join in whenever he’s needed. Wears lab equipment all the time and plays the bagpipes for….some reason.
Amy is a sports captain, perfect student, and Sonic’s self-proclaimed girlfriend. She’s the daughter of a rich car magnate and is still a part of the group. Wears a retro inspired outfit and lacks her iconic Piko Piko hammer.
Knuckles is described as mellow and spiritual unless you manage to tick him off. He’s still the guardian of the Master Emerald and the main time portal, just not a great one due to how trusting and gullible he is. Wears bandages on his knuckles and….skinny jeans?
VILLAINS
Dr. Eggman is described as a “sort of fat, bald Carmen Sandiego” as he’s constantly travelling through time to steal precious ancient artifacts. His lair in his theme park, Eggmanland, and besides world domination he dreams with becoming the ringmaster at a circus. Wears a retro inspired outfit and has Modern Eggman proportions, just way taller with long lanky limbs. Also, instead of Orbot and Cubot, he has Rouge and Shadow as his bumbling henchmen.
Rouge is the brains of the operation but will alter the plans if it means she can steal something for herself. Wears a pink tube top with purple sweatpants and has blue wings.
Shadow is the muscle, almost as strong as Sonic, however, he’s pretty lazy and always chooses to give the least effort possible. He wears an open red Hawaiian flower print shirt and sunglasses. (HAWAIIAN SHADOW!)
Evil Sonic (you read that right) comes from Eggman’s bad future, he hates his counterpart with a passion and will come up with schemes to destroy him and his reputation, occasionally working alongside the doctor if their goals intertwine. Wears the same as Sonic but with inverted colors and his fur is a slightly darker shade of blue.
OTHERS
Blaze is a princess from a foreign land and is currently living in Amy’s mansion as an exchange student. Is very shy and awkward, while she’s not sure what to make of Sonic’s adventures she finds them more interesting than her normal life. She still has fire controlling powers and always keeps an oil lantern with her. Wears a purple scarf and fluffy ushanka, a long sleeve shirt with armless vest over the top, a purple skirt and high heel shoes.
Metal Sonic was Eggman’s weapon until he was reprogrammed and given free will by Tails. He acts sort of like an anti-hero and rival to Sonic, who he tries to best at everything, from racing to saving people to burping contests (???)
Silver is interesting, he starts as Sonic’s bratty neighbor who’s always trying to become a part of the group. One day, after he successfully pesters Sonic into taking him on an adventure, Silver betrays him to gain ancient psychic powers and becomes a villain. He’s basically a bully that wants revenge on Sonic for humiliating him. Wears a black belt with a golden buckle and matching boots, he’s described as “very large and fat” and is constantly eating, aparently.
Finally there’s Team Chaotix, which consists of Vector, Espio and Fang. They are a group of not so bad criminals who are usually contracted by Eggman.
Vector is the leader, pretends to be a tough guy but secretly wants to be a dancer. Always broke and owing money. Wears a leather jacket with a gold chain necklace (just like how he appears in the show, strangely enough)
Espio is a ninja who travelled from the past and was saved by Vector, he joined the team as a way to pay this life debt. He’s not fond of criminal activity but goes along with it making sure no one gets hurt. Is amazed by modern technology. Only wears gloves and boots.
Fang is the most rotten of the group, quick to betray when things go sour and is only kept around because he’s good at what he does. Wears a wide brim hat, a bandana over his mouth, a brown belt and has spurs on his shoes.
This Sonic Boom is described as a children’s comedy first, action show second. Contains things like an overarching plot and pretty tame gross out humor.
So what do you think about this fake TV show? Would you watch it if it actually existed? Personally there are many things I’m not fond off, like Silver’s portrayal, but there are some gems like the Chaotix (which repurposes Fang the Sniper) and, of course, our lord and savior Hawaiian Shadow.
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luckystarchild · 4 years
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Bomb AF Lentil Taco Filling
I made lentil tacos this evening and I swear to god I almost fucking died, I loved them so damn much.
This might sound gross to some of you, but you know that heavily spiced and so-bad-it’s-good greasy taste of a plain-old Taco Bell taco? These tacos tasted like that, only with virtually no oil whatsoever. All you get is the fiber of lentils (underrated kitchen hero, lentils) and the in-your-face punch of delicious, delicious spices.
This pic might not be too inspiring, but the taste sure as hell was.
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Disclaimer: I haven’t had meat from Taco Bell in more than a decade (yay, #veglife), so I’m not the best judge of the true Taco-Bell-ness of this taco filling. BUT my meat-eating boyfriend is a Taco Bell fiend (cue side-eye) and he was like, “I’d fuck up a plate of these tacos and go back for more, EASY.” He agreed that they were reminiscent of Taco Bell, but better in the sense that they were clearly not going to stop your heart with grease. Staying alive is nice, blah blah blah, you get it.
ANYWAY. Here’s what I did. Make ‘em yourself and thank me later.
You’re gonna need the following:
1 cup dried lentils
1 medium onion (I used yellow)
garlic cloves, like 6 maybe, IDK your life or your palate
2 1/2 cups of veggie broth, low sodium for ~health reasons~, with a little extra in case you need more near the end
1 tsp neutral-ish oil
And then you need your spice list. I guess you could use a premade taco seasoning packet, but making your own spice mix rocks because you can adjust the flavors to suit your individual tastes. This is my mix; I tend to use heaping teaspoons and flat tablespoons, so I guess these measures aren’t exactly-exact. They’re close enough, though.
1/4 tsp onion powder
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp oregano, dried
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp paprika (smoked)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1 1/2 tsp cumin, powered
1 tbsp chili powder
Directions:
Dice your onion and garlic; I used a yellow onion and like 6 cloves of garlic, but feel free to adjust. Add these and a teaspoon of your oil of choice (I used olive) to a nonstick pot with deep-ish edges (like this one, my fav pot ever) and cook over medium until the onions are no longer crunchy. 
Add your spice mix and 1 cup dried lentils to the onions/garlic and let all the flavors get to know each other—so like, cook it for a minute or two until your kitchen starts smelling really nice. Do not burn your seasonings or my grandmother will rise from her grave and smack you with a wooden spoon or a shoe, whichever is closest at hand.
Add your veggie broth to the mix. Amp up the heat and bring it to a boil before reducing to a simmer. Leave it covered for about 30 minutes, until lentils are tender.
Take the cover off your lentils and let ‘em thicken up, stirring every now and then so crap doesn’t stick to the bottom and burn. If they seem under cooked at all, add more veggie broth and then cook it down some more.
FOR THE LOVE OF MY GRANDMOTHER’S GHOST, TASTE THE FUCKING THING HERE!!! Add salt if you need to. Add more garlic powder if you need to. Taste it, ruminate, and make adjustments. This is YOUR taco filling and YOU need to love it, so make it your own, please.
Put your lentil taco filling on a tortilla or a taco shell (or fuck it, a taco salad, IDFC), slather it in whatever toppings your heart desires, and enjoy a taco that won’t kill you and is tasty as fuck.
I put my filling on whole wheat, low-carb tortillas, then topped it with romaine, tomato, avocado, cilantro and sour cream. The boyfriend ate his with cilantro and raw onion. Both renditions were great. We’re gonna fuck up the leftovers tomorrow. Next time I’ll experiment with adding some jalapenos and other non-dried stuff to the cooking mix.
Shout out to one of my fav food sites, “Mexico in My Kitchen,” which features legit recipes and not my Taco-Bell-ish lentil abomination. Want to make some seriously delicious Mexican food? That’s where you learn how.
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yamithediaperdork · 4 years
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Big baby Ben (Ben 10 omiverse)
Ben gulped nervously as he made his way over to Kevin's place. It was a few hours after he'd (once again) saved the world and as such it was time for his reward that his semi kinda maybe Boyfriend always gave him after doing so. of course Kevin was still Gwen's fuck buddy but his cousin didn't mind the two of them going out since as she put it "you get him him all worked up, and I reap the benefit!" and would just laugh and wink at Ben. (which of course ALWAYS made Ben worry that despite what Kevin promised, he was sooo tell Gwen what exactly it was they two of them did!) Kevin's place was a one story affair, with a front yard that had a swing and a slide in it and Ben started to squirm as he made it up to Kevin's front door step, and knocked on the door. Already his special undies that Kevin made him wear alll the time except for when they played were swelling with tinkles and he started to worry he was gonna leak as he waited, some kids going by the front of the house (it was only after 4:40) and giggling, again making Ben paranoid. after what seemed like hours (But had only been 12 seconds) the front door opened and there was Kevin in just a black beater and tight jean shorts that left nothing to the imagination. "There's my widdle hero!" Kevin said in a voice that was actually normal level, but to Ben sounded like he was shouting. "Kevvvvin!" Ben whined and squirmed even more. "heh, somebody must be a soaked little guy. you only get this whiny when your a widdle what Benny boy?" Kevin asked, blocking the entrance to his home and smirking. Cheeks turning red Ben pouted but whimpered out. "A little tinkle pants ..daddy." he said. "Hmm? I'm sorry, I didn't hear that, can you speak up?" Kevin asked, cleaning out a ear with his pinky. It was times like that that Ben hated and loved the fact he'd confessed what a little humiliation junkie he was to Kevin. "I'm a little tinkle pants daddy!" he said louder and his thumb found it's way into his mouth. "Exactly. " Kevin said and gave Benny's forehead a kiss, then let him in. they weren't five steps inside when Kevin turned around and undid Ben's jeans, tugging them down and getting a look at Ben's power ranger's pull up. "oh my! you reallly soaked this one little guy! why didn't you change before coming over?" Kevin asked, on a knee and eye level with the big babies soaked crotch. he also reached forward and cupped the squishy padding and gently squeezed it, making Ben gurgle and coo before he finally recovered enough to answer. "I..I did change daddy.. but den there was a scary dog in a yard and..uh.." "Awww poor widdle Benny. he can handle fighting off a alien invasion but that big mean pit bull makes him go pee pee!" getting up Kevin walked behind Ben who had popped his thumb back in his mouth now, with a trail of drool going down his chin. Ben knew what was coming next and as predicted, Kevin stuck a finger the back of the waist band of his pull up and tugged back, peering inside. "Oh my! you know, I didn't smell anything but sometimes you're not so stinky so I didn't wanna get my hopes up..But amazing Benny! you're not a widdle stinker today! At least, not yet." Kevin praised and let the pull up close as Ben whimpered. "Do you need daddies help stepping out of your silly big boy pants so we can go and get you in your big thick diapies?" Kevin asked,holding out his hands. Ben shut his eyes tight, this was what he'd picked. what he'd begged for when Kevin had told him he'd humor him. begging Kevin to help Ben stay a little virgin diaper boy for life. (of course at the time Ben had meant pussy free, But Kevin took it to the next level and the only hole of Ben's that had ever gotten Kevin's big thick cock was Ben's cute mouth) taking his thumb out of his mouth, with a drool trail following to a degree, Kevin took out a rag from his back pocket and cleaned up ben's drool. "and you thought I was silly for buying all of those drool rags. I know what a drooly little baby the so called biggg hero is." Kevin teased then put his foot on the crotch of the pants and took Ben's hands, helping the silly big baby step out of his jeans and then led him by the hand to the living room. the living room was set up in two half's, one half was for Kevin and his sports watching, beer drinking nights with his friends from work. and the other half was a toddlers paradise with Kevin just saying he had a kid with a ex that got dropped off every now and then. (and loved to tease Ben about the fact all his work buddies wants to meet 'his kid') leading Benny over to a changing mat Kevin helped him sit down and then tugged Ben's shirt off and smirked. "Somebodies been hitting the chili cheese fries a little too much." he said and playfully poked the bit of pudge on Ben's tummy. Ben couldn't help but giggle at the poke and then laid back on the changing mat, his thumb popping back into his mouth. (Kevin of course knew a pacifier would of been better but just watching Lil Benny struggle to play with blocks and deal with his need to suck on SOMETHING was just too fucking cute.) Ripping the sides of the pull up open, Kevin didn't even need to tell Ben to lift his hips up and he tugged the wet pull up out from under Ben then grinned. "Oh no! it looks like the power rangers have been defeated but the big baby monster!" he said and tickled Ben's tummy, making the big baby giggle and laugh and squirm. tossing the pull up into the diaper pail with well practiced ease Kevin pulled out a super thick white diaper with the words 'big baby' and 'loser' and 'virgin 4 life' stenciled all over it and held it up. "You know Benny, you did a SUPER good job today." Kevin said, and then using a wipe he took Ben's cute little hard-on between too fingers and gently stroked him. "Ah..ah..Dada.." Ben moaned, his thumb sliding out as he found himself thrusting his hips. it had been 3 months since his last good boy reward and Ben didn't think he was gonna last too long. (of course, Ben was diapered at east once a week, but him being allowed to cum, now THAT was rare) "How about a special treat Benny?" Kevin asked and pulled his hand away as Ben whimpered and let out a frustrated little grunt. "Daddy can put you in this super thick loser diaper and let you crawl around and look silly, till you poop yourself then you can hump daddies leg." Kevin offered and Ben cocked his head, listening. "OR you can finally get this daddy dick up your cute little boy pussy, but after you cum you have to go home AND no baby time next week." Kevin finished. Ben whimpered loudly, and squirmed on the mat, looking from Kevin's crotch to the diaper, then back to the crotch. "Come on Ben, don't you wanna be a big boy at least once and get your V card punched?" Kevin asked and chuckled, rubbing his crotch with one hand. "Or do you wanna be a poopie widdle baby?" he said and then pressed the front of the slick plastic to Ben's crotch. "Di..Di..Diapers daddy!" Ben coo'ed out and then put his hands over his mouth. he'd totally meant to say dick, but just the feeling had been too much and as he locked eyes with Kevin, Kevin smirked. "Thought as much. don't worry Benny, daddy won't make that offer again and get you all confused." Kevin chuckled as Ben whimpered. "guess if we're gonna make you a farty stinky poopie baby butt before I put the diaper on you we should have Mr. poopie booster help you." Kevin added. Ben blushed and whined, but being a good widdle sexless diaper boy loser, rolled onto his tummy and stuck his ass up. "yesh Daddy. you know best." "good boy." Kevin chuckled and got up.
Filling the enema bag up in his Kitchen, Kevin rubbed himself though his pants. there was no two ways about it, he was gonna have to call Gwen over after this and a small part of him was disappointed that Benny hadn't taken the offer to get off. of course Kevin would of still diapered him and let him shit himself on daddies lap but he figured if he told Ben that now, the little guy would of had a fit. he mad sure to add some soap shavings and castor oil to the hot water mix and shook the bag up nice and good, knowing that Ben loved having a painful tummy cramping before making daddy a present. It was just one of a dozen things Kevin didn't quite get about Ben's little fetish, but hey, he got a cute little pamper packer to play with so who was he to complain? The enema bag even had been labeled with a air brush that Kevin had borrowed from work and read 'Mr. poopie booster' on it.
Ben was whimpering, mentally yelling at himself for giving up a chance to get that dick buried balls deep in him, but even as he berated himself he knew that he'd made a smart choice. (well, as smart as the choice to poop yourself in a custom diaper can be) He wasn't a big boy and shouldn't be having sex and should be thankful Kevin put up with his smelly butt and tried to force himself to stop thinking about just how awesome Kevin dick would of felt in his bum. Kevin came back in with Mr poopie booster and Ben bit his lip, Hoping daddy had been super mean and made it so he'd be cramping like crazy. he set the back up on a little hook on the the wall by the mat and then lubed the nozzle up and with two fingers started to lube Ben's forever virgin backside up. with the two fingers greasing him and sliding jusssst in and out, Ben's dicklette was leaking and Ben was gasping and coo'ing, tears leaking out at his need and his rosebud all on it's own was trying to suck Kevin's fingers in deeper. "heh, somebodies all needy. Sorry Benny, you made your choice. no take backies." Kevin said and pulled his fingers out with a pop. "ah..ah..Sowwy daddy..Bum feels so good when you pway wiff it." Ben panted and drooled, a small puddle forming by his face. "it's OK buddy. if i thought you could control yourself you wouldn't be in diapers would you?" Kevin asked and then leaned down and kissed Ben's cheek as he slid the nozzle in. "Loser~"
Kevin smirked as Ben went cross eyed as the nozzle slid in and then started the mixture flowing. he made sure to rub Ben's back and watched him for any warning signs that he should stop the flow, having done this enough times to know the difference between the normal discomfort and something being very wrong. It was always a little fascinating to watch Ben's tummy bloat out as the bag of fluid flowed into him. If it was Kevin he'd of hated all of this but Ben was getting a glazed look in his eyes and a stupid grin on his face as he started to twitch and wiggle with what Kevin supposed was the cramps. "ah..ah..I'm a little loooser for daddy. I love my daddy! daddy's sexless stinky diaper loser wiff a tummy full of poopie waiting to come out!" This was the other half of the fun of filling Ben up with the enema. somehow having his guts filled fried baby Ben's brain and he'd say the cutest and silliest stuff. 'at least he's all tinkled out.' Kevin thought, since normally he'd have a balloon or something around baby Ben's pee pee to catch his piss. all that leaked out today however was baby milk as Ben's super swollen balls were loaded and the Nozzle was pressing right on Ben's g spot. "ah..ah..Daddddy! Call me a looooser!" Ben whined and Kevin was shaken out of his thoughts. "heh. of course your a little loser Ben. you could of had any girl or guy you wanted, even with your micro dick but instead you wanna be a sexless diaper shitting bitch. that makes you what?" Kevin asked and reached down, to ruffle Ben's hair. "A total loooser~" Ben gurgled as the bag finished up. "That'sssss right~" The next part was the tricky one and Kevin got the big custom diaper unfolded and placed under when Ben would be shortly, and then sprinkled and powdered him while he was on his knees. trying to put a plug in Ben after a enema was useless, the diapers were too tick to pull the plug out and not get his hand covered in shit. with his tummy bloated out like he was 6 months pregnant Ben was off in baby land and wasn't much help but that was OK, as the daddy some things just fell on him to figure out and if Ben could trust in him to do it, Kevin would get it done. In one practiced move Kevin got Ben flipped over and on the diaper, hand the front tugged mostly it, and then pulled the plug out and tapped the diaper up all in one swift series of movements. the effect of the plug no longer in Ben was instant though. "DADDY I'M POOPING!"
Ben's mind was in a haze. oh, sure the cramps were super owie but that's just want a diaper shitting loser like him deserved and he was soo lucky to have a daddy who knew exactly what he was and would make him the loser he was, but still treat him like a cute widdle guy. as his thick diaper was taped up and the enema came gushing out Ben's dick twitched wildly, the hot mush coming out and filling his diaper felt sooo good and of course daddy had picked a diapie with ZERO stink guard. as his tummy deflated and the cramps started to lessen the room was filled with Ben's stinky smell and laying on his back Ben sucked his thumb big time and sniffed eagerly, even as daddy made a wave and waved a hand. "whew, no more chili for you little man! stinkkkky!" Kevin said. Ben knew that Kevin actually liked the smell just as much as him, but he also liked to play it up so Ben could feel like a naughty little stinker. There was just one problem, and as Ben kept shitting his guts out he tried to get it out to daddy. "ah..D-D-Daddy! I..I's.I'm gonna.." Ben gasped, the poopies were rushing out so fast and the warm mush around his dicky felt soo good. ..but he was suppose to make his cummie humping daddies leg! Kevin seemed to know what was wrong and just smiled, picking Ben up and squishing his smelly rear. "it's ok buddy. you can make goo goo gaga." he said and then kissed Ben on the lips. the kiss pushed him over the edge and months of pent up baby milk joined Ben's poopies, the big babies eyes rolling back in his head as he came super hard. before he blacked out from the pure pleasure his little loser body was experiencing, Ben had one thought. 'Sex is over rated. this is the bestest way to cum!'
The end
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