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sunburstsbeard · 5 months
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Peach cheesecake.
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notwiselybuttoowell · 2 years
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The strategy... was supposed to be a groundbreaking response to recommendations from the restaurateur Henry Dimbleby, who wrote two government-commissioned reports on obesity and the environment.
Dimbleby made a number of high-profile suggestions, including the expansion of free school meals, increasing environment and welfare standards in farming, and a 30% reduction in meat and dairy consumption.
But the slim 27-page document makes few recommendations, and declines to address the contribution of food prices to the cost of living crisis or address calls for consuming less meat and dairy.
Among its few policy proposals are the suggestion there could be more fish farming, which is environmentally controversial, and an increase in the use of “responsibly sourced wild venison”.
The strategy was described as “bordering on preposterous” by Labour over its lack of concrete proposals on food prices and “worse than half-baked” by the environmental campaign group Greenpeace.
Johnson recently delayed measures to tackle obesity and has come under fire for failing to do enough help families with the cost of living, with inflation running at 9%.
Although the white paper accepts food prices are a major part of the squeeze facing many families, and that many people on low incomes struggle to afford to eat, it suggests this is not the business of a government food strategy.
Experts had also urged the government to cut meat and dairy consumption in order to improve land use and tackle the climate emergency. Dimbleby called for a 30% reduction, and Greenpeace a more ambitious 70%. In his executive summary, Dimbleby stated: “Careful livestock farming can be a boon to the environment, but our current appetite for meat is unsustainable: 85% of farmland is used to feed livestock. We need some of that land back.”
However, the government makes no such commitment, instead opening a consultation about new technologies to help cattle produce less methane. There is also a focus on regenerative livestock farming, which uses more land than intensive farming to produce less protein.
It says: “Sustainable sources of protein do not have to be new or novel or displace traditional sectors. Regenerative farming will also provide a more sustainable production of traditional protein sources. Using livestock to benefit the environment in balance with food production is already being championed by many small-scale farmers.”
One new announcement made in the white paper is regarding animal welfare. Ministers plan to make it easier for countries to trade with the UK if they have strong animal welfare legislation.
The report also mentions an expansion of aquaculture – fish farming – to potentially replace some meat in the diet. This is despite fish farming being found to be often very damaging to the environment.
Deer stalkers will also enjoy a boon from the report, as one of the few new announcements it makes is that the government will “look to increase the use of responsibly sourced wild venison, which would have otherwise been disposed of, in the food chain”.
Environment experts who fed into the strategy said it was “worse than they expected” – and they did not have high expectations.
There are also fears that the report signals a watering down of the environment land management scheme (ELMS) as there are no targets for land use change mentioned.
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organicghee · 2 months
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Health Benefits of Organic Desi Ghee
In today's time the demand of organic ghee is increasing each day.
Discover the Nutritional and Therapeutic Wonders of Organic Desi Ghee
In the realm of nutrition and wellness, organic ghee stands tall as a timeless elixir, deeply rooted in traditional Indian cuisine. This golden-hued clarified butter isn't just about flavor; it's a powerhouse of essential nutrients and therapeutic properties that are garnering global attention. Let's delve into the importance of organic desi ghee and why it's becoming increasingly popular worldwide.
Nutritional Powerhouse
Organic desi ghee is rich in fat-soluble vitamins such as A, D, E, and K, making it a vital source of these micronutrients essential for maintaining various bodily functions. From supporting vision and immune function to aiding in blood clotting and bone health, the vitamins in desi ghee play a crucial role in overall well-being.
Culinary Versatility and Stability
With its high smoke point, organic desi ghee is an ideal choice for cooking at high temperatures. Unlike many vegetable oils, ghee remains stable, preserving its nutritional properties and enhancing the flavor profile of dishes. This stability makes it perfect for sautéing, frying, and baking, adding a rich and aromatic taste to culinary creations.
Ayurvedic Wisdom
In Ayurveda, the ancient Indian system of medicine, organic desi ghee is revered for its ability to balance the doshas and promote overall health and well-being. It is believed to have a soothing effect on the digestive system, aiding in digestion and alleviating conditions such as acidity and inflammation. Additionally, ghee is often used in Ayurvedic therapies like 'Snehana' (oleation therapy), where it is massaged onto the skin to nourish and moisturize.
Keto and Low-Carb Friendly
For those following ketogenic or low-carb diets, organic desi ghee is a boon. With negligible amounts of lactose and casein, it's suitable for individuals with lactose intolerance or dairy allergies. Its high concentration of saturated fats also makes it an excellent source of energy, helping to curb hunger and promote satiety.
When it comes to desi ghee, opting for organic varieties is crucial. Organic desi ghee is sourced from grass-fed cows that are not subjected to antibiotics or synthetic hormones. This ensures purity and nutritional integrity, free from harmful residues and contaminants.
Conclusion,
Organic desi ghee transcends its culinary significance to emerge as a holistic wellness elixir. Its nutritional richness, culinary versatility, and therapeutic properties make it a valuable addition to any diet. Whether drizzled over steaming rice, used for sautéing vegetables, or incorporated into decadent desserts, organic desi ghee continues to captivate taste buds and nourish bodies, one golden spoonful at a time. Embrace the goodness of organic desi ghee and unlock a world of health benefits today.
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manoramaxting · 4 months
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How Plant-Based Butters Boost Your Nutritional Intake?
In a world increasingly conscious of dietary choices, the spotlight is turning towards plant-based alternatives that not only cater to our taste buds but also enhance our nutritional intake. Plant-based butters, including the revered shea butter, have emerged as nutritional powerhouses, offering a delectable solution to those seeking both flavour and wellness in their diets.
Diverse Nutritional Profiles: The Beauty of Plant-Based Butters
Plant-based butters come in a delightful array, each with its unique nutritional composition. While shea butter is renowned for its topical benefits in skincare, other plant-based butters like almond, coconut, and avocado butter offer a rich tapestry of nutrients when consumed.
Shea Butter: A Skin Saver with Nutritional Merits
Shea butter, extracted from the nuts of the shea tree, is celebrated for its skincare prowess. High in vitamins A and E, shea butter nourishes the skin and promotes collagen production. While its primary acclaim lies in topical application, shea butter also contributes healthily when included in your diet. Its rich fatty acid profile supports cardiovascular health and aids in nutrient absorption.
Fatty Acids: The Heart-Healthy Allies in Plant-Based Butters
One of the defining features of plant-based butters is their composition of heart-healthy fatty acids. Monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats, found abundantly in shea butter and other plant-based alternatives, play a pivotal role in maintaining cardiovascular health. These fats have been linked to lower levels of bad cholesterol (LDL) and reduced risk of heart disease.
Omega-3 Richness: A Boon from Flaxseed Butter
Flaxseed butter, derived from the nutrient-dense flaxseeds, stands out for its omega-3 fatty acid content. These essential fatty acids are known for their anti-inflammatory properties and cognitive benefits. Incorporating flaxseed butter into your diet provides a plant-based source of these critical nutrients, supporting brain health and overall well-being.
Micronutrients: Beyond Fats in Plant-Based Butters
Plant-based butters contribute not only healthy fats but also an array of essential vitamins and minerals. Shea butter, for instance, is a treasure trove of vitamins A and E, offering antioxidant protection and supporting immune function. This dual functionality of shea butter, both as a skincare remedy and a dietary supplement, showcases its versatility in promoting holistic health.
Avocado Butter: A Potent Source of Vitamin K and Potassium
Avocado butter, derived from the creamy green fruit, provides a notable dose of vitamin K, crucial for blood clotting and bone health. Additionally, it boasts potassium, a vital electrolyte supporting heart and muscle function. Integrating avocado butter into your diet adds a creamy texture to dishes while delivering essential nutrients often lacking in traditional butter.
Elevating Nutritional Intake with Plant-Based Butters
Plant-based butters offer a delicious way to enhance the nutritional content of your meals. Whether used as a spread, incorporated into cooking, or blended into smoothies, these butters infuse your dishes with flavour and nutrients simultaneously. Replace traditional butter with almond or coconut butter in baking for added nutrients without compromising taste.
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catty-words · 4 months
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10, 40, 53, 58, and one you wanna answer but haven't yet, for the fic writer asks! 💛✨
10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up.
evidently 'blinks' is not a verb i use habitually. i clicked into four WIP docs before i found an example, though to be fair this particular example was toward the very beginning of the fic in question, a nhie post-s3 examination of ben's burgeoning relationship with drawing as a hobby.
He blinks away the vision of the drawing. “What? Your boobs?”
40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?
i'd be over the moon about fanart of any devi/ben fic of mine, really, and there exists a piece already that i love and cherish.
to legitimately answer the question, though, i feel like ace and nancy on the swing set from couldn’t help noticing the gold mines glistening in your skin would be fun to see realized in art.
53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?
so much more a writer. in fact, it's probably something like a 90/10 split in the fandoms where i'm actively writing. some fandoms, of course, i'm almost exclusively a reader. it really depends on how loud the character voices are in my own head, whether i prefer to comb through the archive for fics to complement the noise or give myself over to it and live exclusively in my own version.
58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 
i love it most when an idea takes the scene you were really looking forward to writing and bends it to its will. there's something very satisfying about the story taking on a life of its own, in my opinion.
6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?
if you have familiarity with the source material, it's always my preference to have my work beta'd by you!
i like to think that my writing is of fairly high quality regardless, but aside from the obvious boon that having a second set of eyes provides (i.e. fewer grammatical/spelling errors that are hard to catch when you've read something a dozen times and know what you're trying to say without having to actively process the words on the page), i relish the opportunity to preview the effectiveness of the writing. are the jokes funny? do the emotional lines land? i'll know from bethany's reactions.
so. not essential to my process, but preferred and appreciated for the way it puts a button on the whole affair. fics feel fully baked only after bethany's read them.
get to know your fic writer asks
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aditi-jagtap-pune · 8 months
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Best and Worst Cooking Oils For Your Heart - Aditi jagtap pune
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Cooking oils are an essential part of our daily culinary endeavors. They play a crucial role in determining the taste and texture of our dishes, but their impact on our health, particularly our heart health, should not be overlooked. Some oils can be a boon for your heart, while others might contribute to heart-related problems. In this blog, we will explore the best and worst cooking oils for your heart, helping you make informed choices for a healthier lifestyle.
The Best Cooking Oils For Heart Health
Olive Oil: Olive oil is often hailed as the gold standard for heart-healthy cooking oils. It is rich in monounsaturated fats, which have been linked to reduced heart disease risk. Additionally, olive oil contains antioxidants, such as polyphenols, that help protect your heart by reducing inflammation and improving cholesterol levels. Extra virgin olive oil, in particular, is less processed and retains more of these beneficial compounds.
Avocado Oil: Avocado oil is another excellent choice for heart health. Like olive oil, it is high in monounsaturated fats. It also contains potassium, which can help regulate blood pressure. The mild flavor of avocado oil makes it a versatile option for various cooking methods.
Canola Oil: Canola oil is low in saturated fat and high in heart-healthy monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats. It's also a good source of omega-3 fatty acids, which are known to reduce the risk of heart disease. 
Canola oil has a neutral flavor, making it suitable for a wide range of dishes.
Flaxseed Oil: Flaxseed oil is a potent source of alpha-linolenic acid (ALA), an omega-3 fatty acid. Omega-3s are essential for heart health as they can lower blood pressure and reduce inflammation. However, flaxseed oil is heat-sensitive, so it's best used as a finishing oil for salad dressings or drizzled over cooked dishes says Dr. Ranjit jagtap daughter.
Walnut Oil: Walnut oil is another source of omega-3 fatty acids, specifically alpha-linolenic acid (ALA). It has a rich, nutty flavor that can enhance the taste of salads and baked goods. However, like flaxseed oil, it is sensitive to heat, so it's best used as a finishing touch.
Cooking Oils to Limit or Avoid for Heart Health
Saturated Fats: Cooking oils high in saturated fats should be limited. These fats can raise your LDL (bad) cholesterol levels, increasing the risk of heart disease. Oils like coconut oil and palm oil are high in saturated fats and should be used sparingly.
Trans Fats: Trans fats are artificial fats that have been linked to a higher risk of heart disease. They can raise your LDL cholesterol and lower your HDL (good) cholesterol levels. Thankfully, many countries have banned or significantly reduced the use of trans fats in commercial food products. Be cautious when consuming processed foods, as some may still contain trans fats.
Corn Oil: Corn oil is relatively high in omega-6 fatty acids, which, when consumed in excess, can promote inflammation and potentially contribute to heart disease. While small amounts of omega-6s are necessary for health, the typical Western diet tends to be imbalanced in favour of omega-6s. Therefore, it's wise to use corn oil in moderation.
Peanut Oil: Peanut oil has a moderate amount of saturated fat and omega-6 fatty acids. While it's not the worst choice, it's best to use it sparingly and opt for oils higher in heart-healthy fats when possible, says Aditi Jagtap pune. 
Palm Oil: Palm oil is high in saturated fat and often found in processed foods, including some baked goods and snack items. Due to its impact on cholesterol levels, it's best to limit your consumption of palm oil.
Tips for Cooking Heart-Healthy Meals
Now that you know which cooking oils are best and worst for your heart, here are some tips to help you make heart-healthy meals:
Use olive oil for sautéing and salad dressings: Extra virgin olive oil is a great choice for most cooking needs. Its rich flavour can enhance salads, and it stands up well to moderate heat when sautéing.
Choose avocado or canola oil for high-heat cooking: When you need to cook at higher temperatures, avocado and canola oils are stable and won't break down easily.
Incorporate omega-3 rich oils: Flaxseed and walnut oils can be a part of your diet, but avoid heating them. Use them as finishing oils for added flavor and nutrition.
Read food labels: Be vigilant about reading food labels to identify hidden sources of unhealthy fats like trans fats and excessive saturated fats.
Diversify your fats: Rather than relying solely on one cooking oil, consider using a variety of heart-healthy oils in your cooking to ensure a balanced intake of fatty acids.
Conclusion
Choosing the right cooking oil can significantly impact your heart health. Opting for heart-healthy oils like olive, avocado, and canola oil can be a simple yet effective step in reducing your risk of heart disease. As per Aditi Jagtap pune Conversely, limiting or avoiding oils high in saturated fats and trans fats, such as coconut and palm oil, is equally important. By making informed choices in your kitchen, you can promote a healthier heart and enjoy delicious meals at the same time. Remember, a healthy heart begins with the right cooking oil.
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gonuts1 · 8 months
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Why Do People Prefer Salted Roasted Pistachios and Almonds in Snacks?
There are very few options available to us when it comes to snacks because some people are health cautious due to which they go for dry fruits while some go for any other dishes. In dry fruits, people can go for some salted roasted pistachios because it is nutty and tasty. People eat dry fruits not only because of their taste but they have several benefits like health benefits, energy boosting and many other nutrients are present in it which we will discuss in this article.  
Why Salted Roasted Pistachios?
These salted pistachios are a true culinary treasure and are known for their irresistible taste and vibrant green color. These pistachios need to go under a roasting process after which they are just seasoned with the right amount of salt to enhance the natural flavour. After getting properly seasoned we get a delightful combination of nutty richness and some salty tang that can make your taste buds happy.
Richness in Nutrients
Salted pistachios are not only an option of tasty nuts for you but they can even act as a boon for your health. Most of these nuts are packed with lots of essential nutrients like healthy fats, dietary fiber, protein, and several types of vitamins and minerals. They are one of the great sources of vitamin B, vitamin E, and minerals like magnesium and potassium.
Healthy for Heart
As we know that pistachios contain lots of nutrients that can contribute to better heart health, better digestion, and more energy. These crunchy pistachios have gained a reputation because they are heart-friendly as they have some healthy monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats which can help lower the bad cholesterol levels and reduce the chances of heart disease.
Versatile Cooking Ingredient
Salted pistachios are not only limited to snacks but people can even add these nuts in several dishes just to enhance the taste of dishes. The unique flavor profile of pistachios makes them a versatile ingredient in both savory and sweet dishes. People can add it on salads to get crunch from it and they can even add it in yogurt to be incorporated into baked goods.
Why Caramelized Almonds in Snacks?
People have multiple options to choose their snacks but people who care have some heart problems can go for caramelized almonds as they have all the required nutrients to maintain blood pressure. The normal almonds are already crunchy from the outside but for better taste, these almonds are now seasoned with caramel which people can't control eating as a snack option. 
How to Boost Energy with Almonds?
Normal almonds are a great source of lots of nutrients and even some doctors prefer to have almonds regularly people want some tasty stuff then the manufacturers add caramel to it. There is a contrast between the crispy outer layer and the natural taste of almonds that enhances the overall taste. These almonds are a good source of healthy fats, dietary fiber, and proteins people even prefer this as a snack rather than oily foods. 
Conclusion
The potassium present in these nuts helps in maintaining healthy blood pressure levels and promotes cardiovascular well-being. After being seasoned with either caramel or salt they become even more tasty and crunchy.
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acepackaging · 9 months
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Best Automatic L Sealer Machine Manufactuer in India
L Sealer Machine Manufacturer in India
Ace Packaging Solution is a leading manufacturer, supplier and exporter of L-sealer machines in India. With years of experience in the packaging industry, we take pride in offering high-quality and reliable L-sealer machines that are designed to meet the diverse needs of our customers. Our machines are built using cutting-edge technology and premium-grade materials, ensuring their durability and performance.
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What is an L-Sealer Machine?
An L-sealer machine, also known as a sleeve wrapper, is a packaging device used to wrap and seal products in a protective film or shrink wrap. The machine consists of two main components: a sealing bar in the shape of the letter "L" and a heat source. When in operation, the L-sealer wraps a plastic film around the product and uses heat to seal the edges of the film, creating a tightly enclosed package around the item. Subsequently, the packaged product can be sent through a heat tunnel or heat shrink chamber to apply uniform heat and shrink the film, providing a secure and tamper-evident package.
Applications of L-Sealer Machines:
L-sealer machines are versatile and find applications across various industries, including:
Food Industry: L-sealers are widely used for packaging food items such as fresh produce, frozen meals, baked goods, and confectionery. The airtight seal provided by the machine helps extend the shelf life of the products and preserves their quality.
Pharmaceuticals and Healthcare: In the pharmaceutical industry, L-sealers are employed to package medicines, medical devices, and other healthcare products securely. The tamper-evident packaging ensures the integrity of the products.
Cosmetics: L-sealers package cosmetics and personal care items, protecting them from external contaminants and maintaining their visual appeal.
Electronics: Delicate electronic components and devices benefit from L-sealer machine packaging, as it shields them from dust, moisture, and physical damage during transit.
Textiles and Apparel: L-sealers are used to package clothing and textiles, providing a clean and professional presentation for retail display.
Benefits of L-Sealer Machines:
Efficiency and Speed: L-sealer machines automate the packaging process, significantly increasing the speed at which products are wrapped and sealed. This boost in efficiency can lead to higher productivity and lower labor costs for businesses.
Versatility: These machines can handle a wide range of products, regardless of their size, shape, or orientation. As long as the item can fit within the sealing area, the L-sealer can enclose it effortlessly.
Cost-Effectiveness: Investing in an L-sealer machine can be cost-effective in the long run, especially for businesses with high-volume packaging needs. The reduced reliance on manual labor and the ability to use cost-efficient packaging materials contribute to cost savings.
Product Protection: L-sealers provide a secure and tight seal around products, protecting them from external elements, such as dirt, moisture, and tampering, during storage and transportation.
Enhanced Aesthetics: The neatly sealed and professionally packaged products improve the overall presentation, which can positively impact a brand's image and attract potential customers.
Environmental Benefits: Many L-sealer machines use recyclable and eco-friendly packaging materials, promoting sustainable packaging practices and reducing the environmental impact.
In Conclusion:
L-sealer machines are a boon for businesses seeking to enhance their packaging processes. From efficient and consistent sealing to improved product presentation, the benefits of L-sealer machines are hard to ignore. Whether it's the food industry, pharmaceuticals, electronics, or other sectors, the versatility and effectiveness of L-sealers make them a valuable asset for any business aiming to optimize its packaging operations and excel in a competitive marketplace.
We value your interest in L-sealer machines and would be delighted to provide you with further details and address any inquiries you may have!
Website - https://www.shrinkpackagingmachines.in/
Contact  No. - +91-9810264335
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qualityinnalpine · 10 months
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Indulge in Boone's Culinary Delights: Quality Inn & Suites Hotel's Food Lover's Guide
Welcome to Boone, North Carolina, a haven for food lovers seeking a delightful culinary experience. In this blog, we invite you to embark on a gastronomic journey through the vibrant food scene of Boone. As your trusted guide, Quality Inn & Suites Hotel in Boone, NC, will lead you to the best restaurants, local flavors, and hidden gems, ensuring an unforgettable dining experience during your stay. Plus, with their pet-friendly policies, you can bring your furry friends along for the foodie adventures!
Farm-to-Table Delights:
Boone takes pride in its farm-to-table dining concept, where fresh and locally sourced ingredients are the stars of every dish. Experience the flavors of the region by visiting restaurants like Vidalia Restaurant and Proper Restaurant, which showcase seasonal produce, artisanal cheeses, and sustainable meats. Indulge in creative dishes crafted with passion and care, as local chefs transform Boone's bountiful harvest into culinary masterpieces.
Southern Comfort Cuisine:
No visit to Boone is complete without savoring traditional Southern comfort food. Head to places like Melanie's Food Fantasy and Stick Boy Bread Co. for mouthwatering biscuits, crispy fried chicken, and delectable desserts. Let the warm and welcoming ambiance of these eateries transport you to a world of comfort and hospitality. Quality Inn & Suites Hotel in Boone, NC, provides a pet-friendly environment, so you can enjoy these comforting meals with your furry companions by your side.
Craft Breweries and Beer Culture:
Boone boasts a thriving craft beer scene that will delight beer enthusiasts. Discover local breweries like Appalachian Mountain Brewery and Booneshine Brewing Company, where you can sample a variety of handcrafted brews. Experience the passion and craftsmanship that goes into each pint as you learn about the brewing process and enjoy the inviting taproom atmospheres. Quality Inn & Suites Hotel in Boone, NC, offers a comfortable and convenient stay, allowing you to fully appreciate Boone's beer culture.
Unique Dining Experiences:
Boone also offers unique dining experiences that are sure to leave a lasting impression. From gourmet food trucks serving international cuisine to cozy cafes with live music, the town is filled with eclectic options. Don't miss the opportunity to visit The Cardinal, a renovated vintage gas station turned restaurant and bar, offering a vibrant atmosphere and a menu of globally inspired dishes. Quality Inn & Suites Hotel in Boone, NC, is ideally located to access these one-of-a-kind dining spots.
Sweet Treats and Local Bakeries:
Satisfy your sweet tooth at Boone's local bakeries and dessert shops. Visit Stick Boy Bread Co. for freshly baked bread, pastries, and cakes. For homemade ice cream with unique flavors, stop by Kilwins or Boone Bagelry for a variety of hand-rolled bagels. Treat yourself to these delectable delights and experience the sweet side of Boone's culinary scene.
Conclusion:
Boone, NC, is a paradise for food lovers, offering a diverse array of culinary experiences that celebrate local flavors and showcase the region's culinary prowess. From farm-to-table delights and Southern comfort cuisine to craft breweries and unique dining experiences, Boone has something to satisfy every palate. Quality Inn & Suites Hotel in Boone, NC, provides a comfortable and pet-friendly accommodation, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the culinary delights of the town. Embark on a food lover's journey and create unforgettable memories as you indulge in Boone's culinary delights.
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sunburstsbeard · 5 months
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Peach cheesecake.
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zahrajellodari · 1 year
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taherehjelodar · 1 year
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marziabbaspour · 2 years
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flufflepuffle296 · 4 years
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Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic
This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx
I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.
My old Collège and Lycée diary.
I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.
September 1st, 1989.
Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!
And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?
I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.
Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!
“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...
We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.
Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.
Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!
But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.
I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.
“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”
I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.
Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!
I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.
Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.
“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.
“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!
But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...
“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”
He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.
“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”
“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.
I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”
Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.
I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”
And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”
Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”
Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.
Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”
And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”
I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”
I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.
“Who are you?”
“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”
“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.
“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”
Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.
“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.
“Let's make her beautiful...”
“Let’s make her beautiful...”
“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.
I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.
I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.
We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.
No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,
“Marinette?!”
The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”
I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.
And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!
Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.
It really was a beautiful day.
304 notes · View notes
philliamwrites · 3 years
Text
The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.3]
Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses
Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings
Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content
Words: 7.7k
Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.
Notes: Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
Chapter 03: Ties That Bind
Where war, and joy, and terror Have all at times held away; Where both delight and horror Have had their fitful day.
The happiest under heaven A king of powerful mind; A company so proven Would now be hard to find
Gawain put on a good cheer. ‘Why should I hesitate?’ He said. ‘Kind or severe, We must engage our Fate.’
[Sir Gawain and the Green Knight]
    „Breathe,“ Hanneman says for the third time. At every tap of his pen against the table, you flinch as if someone is knocking right against the inside of your skull. “You have to feel the Crest, become one with it. Don’t think of it as an addition; see it as an extension of your very self.”
    You exhale but it’s hard to focus after you’ve been sitting in the same position for nearly two hours and your legs keep falling asleep.
    “Focus on it,” Hanneman continues. He starts to gesture with his free hand, an indicator that he’s just as frustrated with your lack of progress as you are. “Focus on the feeling that took hold of you when you fought the bandits. Imagine what you want. Ask yourself what it is you really want, and take hold of that picture.”
    Well, first of all, you really want a sandwich.
    For the past few weeks, you’ve been waking up before sunrise to attend private lessons with Hanneman to get a hold of your Crest’s power. Now the end of the month approaches, and still your body refuses to get accustomed to work at such an early hour, and more importantly without eating first. An hour ago, your stomach started growling, but Professor Hanneman has proved again and again to be very successful in ignoring factors that disturb his lessons. You continue breathing through what you consider hunger pains instead of the raise of new powers, but with the sound of screaming students outside and the occasional flapping of wings as Pegasus Knights fly by on their patrol, it’s anything but successful.
    “Focus!” Hanneman chides again as if he can read your mind and knows exactly you’re thinking of the pheasant roast with berry sauce on the menu today.
    “I’m trying,” you groan and slump into the chair, defeated. “But I don’t feel anything.”
    “Hmm hmmm,” Hanneman hums and looks at you like you were supposed to understand what he’s conveying with that sound. “Maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way,” he says once you don’t follow up on his inexplicable sound. “Maybe we should stop thinking of it as a common Crest, but approach it like it is something entirely different.” He quickly notes something on his paper, then proceeds to flip through the open books he’s splayed out on his desk. “There is so little we know about the Crest of the Herald. I am much frustrated no one thought of studying it a thousand years ago!”
    “I don’t understand. How can it be different?” Your first lesson solely focused on Crests. How they are thought to be power incarnate, bestowed upon humans by the Goddess countless ages ago. Today those who are descendants of Fódlan’s Ten Elites and Four Saints, who fought during the War of Heroes beside Saint Seiros, wear Crests, a sign of wealth and nobility.
    “Well, one possible explanation could be that for whatever reason, the first Herald was different from his fellow warriors, the Ten Elites,” Hanneman offers, leaning back into his chair and looking a lot more interested in the conversation now. “The Goddess must have found him worthy of her power just as she found Saint Seiros worthy.”
    “Then why wasn’t he a Saint?” you wonder. From your understanding, the Four Saints were special comrades of Saint Seiros, just as guided by the Goddess as their leader. What had made the Herald from back then different? “According to everything you told me, he sounds a lot like this Macuil person. Focusing on strategy and all that.”
    “Saint Macuil,” Hanneman corrects you, but there’s no bite in his voice. “And yes, perhaps he was akin to the Saints, but that clearly wasn’t what determined the final decision to name him Herald.”
    “Well, that’s just my kind of luck,” you mumble, but when Hanneman makes a puzzled sound, you ask instead, “And you’re sure I’m a descendant of him?”
    “Most likely! You bear a Major Crest, which means the Herald’s blood runs strong in your body. After he disappeared, he might have settled down and started a family. Unfortunately, nothing is recorded about him after the War of Heroes concluded.”
    “Then how come there was no one else in a thousand years who bore the same Crest?” You aren’t sure you fully understand how they work. Apparently, Crests grant special powers to those who hold them such as high aptitude for magic or enhanced strength. But you know better than anyone that the Crest of the Herald is special. It doesn’t simply give you a boon, it allows you to command the flow of battle. But is it really a blessing bestowed by the Goddess? You don’t remember a divine revelation or talking to a Goddess. Or did that maybe occur even before you were found by the Officers Academy’s students? Before your memory loss? You certainly don’t feel chosen by a deity.
    “Trying to explain the Goddess’ whims would wield about the same result as asking this question,” Hanneman says. “Sometimes a Crest may skip generations. No one can say with certainty who will be chosen. If it will be the first or third born. That is why we must further study Crests! For example, why, unlike other Crests, has your appeared physically visible?” Hanneman mutters more questions under his breath and notes them quickly on his paper. It’s remarkable how enthusiastic he approaches the topic if it only didn’t make you feel like an experiment lying on a dissection table.
    “I want to know so much more about the first Herald,” you mumble. “What was his name? Where was he from?” Why did he disappear and what were the costs he had paid for such a title. Only one month in and Lady Rhea already granted you an impressive room to reside. People treat you with respect and admiration even though you aren’t doing much besides wave at them on the streets or hold some conversations. If being the Herald only encompasses these tasks, you’ll gladly take on the role and speak to people. But that would be a dream too good to be true.
    “We can only speculate,” Hanneman says. “Some believe the Herald came when Seiros needed him most. Our Goddess’ answer to her cry of help. Others believe he was simply a general who originated form a farmer’s family. Other, smaller sources talk about a prince from a far off land who passed through Fódlan and decided to stay. But in all cases, the Herald was a great asset to win the War of Heroes and save Fódlan from the tyranny of the Fell King.”
    “Yeah, no pressure there,” you mumble, sinking further into your seat. Hopefully no one expects you to save Fódlan from evil monarchs. If yes, it certainly won’t happen on an empty stomach. When Hanneman releases you, there’s only one place for you to be. The Dining Hall is crowded at this time of hour. Students and faculty bustle everywhere, eager to get their favourite meal on a plate. Just like them, you are drawn in by the amazing smell of roasted meet and freshly baked pastries.
    The only thing you can live without is how once you enter the room several heads turn in your direction, and a ripple of “Look, it’s the Herald” goes through the crowd, spreading like a wave. Or a disease, you think with a sour taste in your mouth as you move through the parting sea. They want you to acknowledge them but Goddess forbid you actually engage in conversation with them and they flee like you’re the Herald of Pest.
    “Herald!” Well, not everyone escapes. Some seem to like living dangerous.
    Edelgard looks straight at you from between the other students from the Eagle class sitting at a table, removing any doubt she means anyone else but you. Running from her would be a sign of defeat, so you drag yourself over to the Eagle table and give the round an uncertain smile. “Hello.”
    “Herald, if you have time, please sit with us,” Edelgard offers but the look she pins on you doesn't give you any choice. The silence of her classmates speaks louder than words, and a quick glance to Hubert tells you that he very much would like for you to notsit with them.
    “Sure,” you say lamely and sit opposite from her where Bernadetta quickly shuffles to the side to make room, and then further down the bench until she jumps to her feet and flees from the hall. It’s a miracle she’s out of her chambers in the first place, undoubtedly Byleth’s work.
    “Did you manage any progress with Professor Hanneman?” Edelgard asks, carefully cutting her pheasant roast into small bite-sized pieces. She looks the complete opposite from someone capable of hacking away their enemies but you wouldn’t dare to underestimate her.
    “It’s slow,” you admit, solely focusing on shoving potatoes from one side of your plate to the other so you don’t have to look at anyone. “I’ve only grasped the basics of how Crests work and the Herald’s is so different.”
    “Research might prove more fruitful if you’d be called into action,” she says, and it’s difficult to determine if that statement is a simple observation or underlying critique towards Rhea’s decision to leave you out of the major education system. At least that’s something you’re sure of. Edelgard is difficult.
    “Maybe. But chances are higher I get myself killed somehow on the battlefield.” You’re already dreading the approaching noon hours. Byleth has worked out a special training programme for you and the house leaders. So far there hasn’t been a day without aching muscles and bruises for you. Thinking of Byleth, you can’t help but ask, “So how’s Byleth as a Professor?”
    Edelgard considers her plate with mild interest, but her index fingers start tapping against her cutlery. She has small, delicate hands. Cute hands. You gawk at them for two seconds before noticing Hubert starring daggers at you, and quickly avert your eyes to your cup of ginger tea like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
    “Our professor shows knowledge in the most curious things,” he says, surprising you by joining the conversation. “I think the Adrestian Empire will benefit greatly from that.”
    You aren’t sure how leading the class correlates directly to joining the Empire, but you don’t want to point that out. Hubert is still too much of a puzzle you’re adamant on not piecing together because whatever picture waits for you after the assembly might be one of horror.
    “She really is one to look up to,” Edelgard agrees, but she isn’t looking at anyone, so it seems she’s saying it more to herself. You want to try and read more out of her expression, but distraction comes quickly in form of more students from the Eagle class. Caspar is the first bouncing excitedly towards the table, and still he somehow miraculously manages to keep his food from flying everywhere. “Herald!” he calls and slides right on the seat right next to you. “How’s the head situation going?”
    “Caspar,” Linhardt chides and gives his friend the disappointed look of a parent that can’t bring his child to use a fork to eat. “Would you stop pestering the Herald with the same question every day?”
    Linhardt hits the mark. It was nice in the beginning to have someone show so much interest in your wellbeing, but now you don’t know if the daily reminder how you fail to regain pieces of your past is rude or just Caspar’s naive politeness.
    “Yeah well.” You try to stuff as much potatoes in your mouth as possible just to avoid talking about it. “Nothin’ yeff.”
    “Herald, please try to keep your manners in check, will you?” Ferdinand comments because of course he catches you with your mouth full and sauce dripping from the corners. Unlucky for him, you don’t really care.
    “Well, sorry.” Caspar frowns and scratches the remains from his plate. The two minutes you needed to finish your potatoes, he’s cleared his whole plate. “I just thought it might help.”
    “Help to be reminded what’s missing?” Linhardt doesn’t look convinced. “I think the Herald knows so better than anyone.”
    “Guys, drop the subject,” Edelgard intervenes. “Let us finish our meals now. Classes resume presently and I don’t want to hear any stomachs growling, understood?” The last part goes with a pointed look towards Linhardt, who answers with a lazy shrug while continuing to poke at his food, looking bored out of his mind. It lasts about three seconds before he brightens up and turns towards you while rummaging through his school bag. From that, he pulls out notes and a pen, and unceremoniously shoves them into your hands. “I have a question, Herald. Would you be so kind and look over these strategic proposals I’ve developed from the last lesson? I understand what you taught us were basics as we find them in the library. I simply took the time and applied those to the strengths and abilities of my classmates.”
    You raise your eyebrows. “You did?” Up until now, you didn’t know Linhardt was paying attention whenever you gave the students your sorry excuses of lessons. You feel like you’ve seen him asleep far more than actually looking at the board or writing, so him presenting his notes to you now is more than a surprise. He has a clean handwriting, small letters that curl into themselves and forget to take a break between words. You squint at the sentences, trying to make them out. It sure doesn’t help that half of it is crossed out by what looks like a strategy sketch with little circles and everyone’s names filling out the space.
    “This looks … elaborate,” you comment, unsure if you’ll ever be able to solve this enigma.
    “No worries.” Linhardt gives a little smile. “Please give me your answer report until tomorrow. And feel free to correct me on anything I’ve done wrong.”
    He’s probably done a much better job than you on your lesson notes, but you nod with a lopsided smile. “I will.”
    “Oh, and while we’re at strategy talk,” Caspar jumps right in, “any good ideas how to take on a taller opponent?”
    “A good kick to their shins?” you suggest.
    “A dagger to their liver?” Edelgard says.
    “Poison in their cup?” Hubert offers.
    “You’re all animals,” Ferdinand says.
    Linhardt groans. “I toldyou how to win in a fight like that, Caspar. Why won’t you listen to me?”
    You don’t want to be part of the argument breaking out between them, so you turn away and try to see what the other students are doing in the dining hall. At the opposite end, Claude catches your eyes and waves like he’s been waiting way too long to finally get your attention. He points at Edelgard and flaps his arms like a chicken. He points at you and spreads his hands behind his head, forming antlers with his fingers. When Edelgard follows your eyes, his head whips around and he pretends to agree with whatever Lysithea just said.
    “I hope you forgive Caspar’s enquiries,” she says, steering your focus back to her. She’s gently tapping the corners of her mouth with an embroidered napkin, and oh there they are again, her delicate fingers. You look away before Hubert catches you staring again and decides to put poison in your cup7. “I speak on behalf of everyone in the Black Eagle House when I say we wish for your full recovery to be soon.”
    “If wishing would only get the job done, I might have something to work with by now.”
    Edelgard doesn’t blink, her expression frozen. “Meaning?”
    “I thought I'd come here and one of the Church's healers would just wave their hands to return my memories,” you mumble, scribbling a tiny Claude with little, evil horns on his head in the corner of Linhardt’s notes.
    Edelgard looks at you like you've just insulted her whole noble lineage. “That isn't how magic works.”
    You throw your arms up in frustration to emphasise that yes, that's the point. You don't know how anything works in this place, and you doubt Byleth's four pages of lesson plans are going to help.
    “If no one comes to your aid, maybe it is time you take matters into your own hands.” You flinch at the scornful sound in Edelgard’s voice. Judging the expression on her face, she seems just as surprised about her outburst. She gets up abruptly and bids farewell with a curt nod, followed closely by Hubert as always. Her classmates look after her, each more puzzled than the next.
    “Didn’t she seem … angry to you?” Linhardt thinks aloud, blinking into the empty space.
    Ferdinand harrumphes. “She’s always like this. Please excuse her, Herald.”
    You don’t think she’s done anything wrong, and yet she certainly doesn’t appear as always. Something about her last words strikes you as especially sharp; reproachful. Those weren’t meaningless words, but you don’t have any ways to decipher the message. A little voice tells you she isn’t wrong either. So far nothing has helped returning your memories—Manuela’s medicine, herbs from the Greenhouse, Hanneman’s spells. It seems like your brain has built defencive walls to repel any probing, which begs the answer to the question what is hiding in secret even more. But can you really do it on your own, like Edelgard suggests? It seems impossible.
    With newfound doubt you finish your meal, saying your goodbyes to the now scattering Eagle students as they scurry off to their next lesson. Two hours are left before you’re meeting with Byleth and the house leaders, and since you agreed to look over Linhardt’s notes, the library seems a good next stop. You still want to go over the seven classical manoeuvres of war, especially since the students didn’t really grasp the remaining two last time, and it gives you a good excuse to look over them again as well. At the beginning, you thought there was nothing you could teach those children, not with experienced colleagues at your side who have participated in countless battles themselves. Who could have thought that talking about tactics and strategies came as natural to you as breathing. Well, Rhea did for certain, and even the students drink up your every word like it is a message from the Goddess herself and you her chosen herald. The irony of it.
    But it isn’t only the students accepting your guidance. Something inside you changed in the last couple of weeks as well. When you started going through the books in the library, it was more stumbling and slipping on foreign terrain, but just in a couple of days, you moved through the matter like a fish following smoothly the currents of its native waters. It felt like home. Like building the foundation of a house from thousand variables, the result different each time but still the same: art. You build the art of battle, the last decision that will bring victory or death. You love every second of it. Which opens the possibility that it really isn’t your first time, but also more questions: Who taught you? What battles have you fought? How many of them did you win? Since those aren’t as simple to answer, you focus on fulfilling the first purpose, and hope that it will some day be enough for the students to survive battles.
    If only it would end there. Your second duty isn’t as easy or pleasant, and it lies in wait for you everywhere, stalking you like a dark shadow with monstrous fangs.
    “Herald.” A soldier gives a courteous bow, intercepting you in the Great Hall on your way to the library. “Pilgrims ask for you near the Entrance Hall. Please allow me to escort you.”
    Immediately, your nerves tingle with nervous anticipation. This is the scary part. Meeting the people, seeing the hope in their eyes. You’d gladly send them back where they’ve come from, but some have travelled for multiple days, and denying them audience would be cruel.
    “Don’t let me stop you from your duties,” you say, unconsciously tugging your clothes in order to appear presentable. “I will welcome them on my own.”
    The soldier nods and bows again, his expression barely readable under the helmet before he disappears as quickly as he came.
    Planning lessons is easy. You can find whatever you need in the library and work out the flow with the students. But nothing can prepare or teach you how to act like the Herald people wish for. Nowhere is anything written on the old Herald, how he talked to them and what promises he’d whispered when day broke. That is where you are on your own. Not even Rhea could answer that question. She only instructed that you see them, and remind them about their devotion to the Goddess—for she was the one who made it possible in the first place.
    The Entrance Hall is emptier than usual. Most of the students are in class, and a handful of knights and soldiers might be at the advanced training camp Jeralt and Alois hold in honour of the Blade Breaker’s return. So spotting the pilgrims isn’t difficult. Especially with the Gatekeeper waving his arms in wide arcs as if fearing you might overlook him.
    “Greetings, Herald!” His grin is blinding. “The pilgrims are waiting for you just at the at the foot of the stairs.”
    “Yeah,” you say. “I can see them.”
    “Oh, yes, of course! If anyone causes problems, count on me to help!”
    “Thanks.” You answer his thumbs up with one of your own before moving downstairs. What a refreshing young man. Certainly good looking under his helmet. Byleth seems to like talking to him a lot as well.
    Today’s pilgrims aren’t much different from other days. Old people are supported by their family members, who have brought baskets with sweets and flowers, presenting them at your feet.
    “Herald,” they breathe in awe, bowing. No matter how often you’ve seen it by now, it still feels incredibly wrong.
    “Raise your heads,” you tell them, helping an elderly woman up to hrer feet. She gasps at your touch, then clings to your hands. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat. “The Archbishop and I bid you welcome. The Goddess will smile upon your devotion.” Your cringe slightly when echoing Rhea’s words and wonder if any second the goddess might punish you by throwing lightning your way.
    “We are blessed to finally meet you,” a younger woman says, taking the old woman from your hands—mother and daughter maybe? “Please accept our gifts, and may the Goddess guide you on your path to light.”
    “She will answer your prayers and guide me so I can bring you peace,” you reply just so you can say something they might want to hear. Judging their delighted expressions this wasn’t the worst you could have said. Dorothea would probably be proud looking at your acting skills. Or point out your bad posture and how you’re avoiding their eyes. Dorothea would probably tell you how much you have to polish your acting skills.
    “Bring us peace?” someone from the last row spits, pushing to the front. “You know nothing, the Herald will bring chaos and ruin!” A man in his forties looms above you, an ugly, padded scar crossing his face from one temple to his chin. A war veteran? They way he holds himself looks like he’s been beaten up once too much to get up again.
    “You heathen, don’t you dare speak to our Herald like that,” the old woman barks, immediately doubling over in a coughing fit. Her daughter supports her, glaring at the man. “Go in peace, but go if you only came to talk ill about our Herald,” she says, clearly upset. "Doubting them is doubting our Goddess. How dare you."
    “First I want to see the Herald do something! What if … if this one is an impostor.” The man turns towards the others, throwing his arms in the air. “Bring forward proof that you are not here to ruin our lands, but to actually serve in the Goddess’ name!”
    This time his demand meets less resistance. Until now people were fine with seeing you and the Crest, but to want actual prove? You could easily threaten them and ask if they doubt the Goddess’ decision, but you’d rather leave that method to Rhea. You don’t want to sound like her. You don’t want to scare people. Yet admitting that you don’t really have a clue how to really use the Crest would surely support the man’s accusation. Diminishing the people’s trust in the Herald is the last thing you want, especially if it means facing Rhea’s scorn.
    “I—”
    “Herald!” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. When you turn around, Sylvain waves and jogs downstairs, looking like he’s been running for some time. “There you are. The Archbishop wants to see you.”
    Oh no, has she heard of your failure already? Giving the choice of facing a group of doubting people or Rhea, you’d immediately go to the people. You give him a curt nod, unable to speak because you don’t trust your voice.
    “I apologise,” you say to the pilgrims, clearing your throat when it comes out as a croak. “I will have something prepared for another time.”
    “No, you do not need to prove anything to us,” the elderly woman says. “We will always believe in you. Please tell Her Grace we are constantly praying to our Goddess and thank her for sending you to us.”
    “I will.” You squeeze her hand a last time. “Save travels.”
    The man still glares at you, but without a chance to keep you present any longer, he turns away and follows the rest. You can’t wait to leave all that behind, and as you steel your nerves for what’s waiting for you in the Audience Chambers, you look up to Sylvain and ask, “Did Lady Rhea say what it is about?”
    He looks over at you and blinks a couple of times, then seems to remember. “Ah ... yeah, about that. I lied.”
    You stop dead in your tracks. “You lied?”
    “Yup. I don’t know what Lady Rhea’s doing. But you looked like you were about to puke at those poor pilgrim’s shoes. As hilarious as that would have been, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment.” He stops now as well and smiles a boyish crooked grin. Sylvain knows exactly what to do with his face so girls fall over themselves to do him a favour, and boys grow jealous of all the attention he gets. Two weeks in, and you’ve figured out his game, keeping a respectable distance that wouldn’t birth the thought you’re avoiding him. In fact, this could be the very first time you’re actually holding a real conversation.
    “Well, I … thank you? But I had everything under control.”
    He looks like he doesn’t believe you. The gatekeeper you’re just passing looks like he doesn’t believe you. You press your lips into a thin line and dare any of them to disagree.
    “Okay.” Sylvain shrugs. “But now we’re here.”
    “Sylvain, what do you want?”
    “Cutting to the chase, huh?” He crosses his arms behind his head. “Why do you think I want something?” Your raised eyebrows seem to be answer enough. Sylvain laughs a little helplessly and returns his hands back to his front, raised as an offer of peace. “I promise, I want nothing. Just a little talking. A little talking hasn’t hurt anyone.”
    Something inside you wants to argue against it, but without a solid argument in hand, you follow him silently, wondering where his destination and intention lies. He belongs to the many students you can’t really read, nothing about his ambitions or goals. Sometimes he gives you this strange look through half lidded eyes, his gaze focused on your right eye—his interest in your Crest undeniable, and yet he’s been one of the few not to talk about it with you. It’s strange because whenever you come together, he looks like there’s something he’s dying to say. This time is no different.
    He leads you to the wooden pavilion in the gardens, but instead of offering you a seat, Sylvain leans his slim hips against the table, half sitting on it. Seteth would be furious seeing this.
    “How’s the Herald business doing for you?” he asks the one question you wouldn't expect from him. “Other than you having ‘everything under control.’” He has the audacity to air-quote. This isn’t a conversation you want to hold right now, leastwise with him. Sylvain must discern that you’re ready to bold from whatever your body is showing. With a quick step, he’s standing between you and the escape route, lazily leaning one arm against a column to uphold the illusion that you’re only having a pleasant talk when in reality his body stands between you and your freedom.
    “Do you talk to the other faculty members like that as well?” you say through gritted teeth, crossing your arms. Sylvain blinks like he doesn’t understand, but you’ve seen this act before, followed by an eerily precise repetition of a subject to one of his classmates when he thinks none of the teachers pay attention. Sylvain is playing dumb and deliberately hiding a sharp mind.
    “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” he quickly says, nothing about this crooked smile appearing apologetic whatsoever. “I’m generously curious. You’re holding up really good.”
    “In comparison to what?” you demand, your heartbeat picking up. Is he trying to call you out on something? That you aren’t heraldy enough? But to your surprise, Sylvain looks genuinely surprised by your reaction.
    “To nothing. In general?” He shrugs. “Back on the ceremony day, you didn’t look so good standing up there, and His Highness told us everything happened really uh … ‘suddenly.’’ More air-quotes, whatever they mean this time.
    “If you mean I wasn’t really asked to become the Herald, then yes.” Your arms drop back to your side. “It was suddenly.”
    Sylvain watches you for a moment, and again, there’s this look in his eyes; the need to say something he can’t. He kneads the back of his nape, avoiding your eyes. “All I’m trying to say is … having that Crest out of nothing is cool. Probably. And maybe terrifying? And just—”
    You grow impatient. “Come on, get the words out, Sylvain.”
    “A Crest isn’t just this nice letter of invitation to a privileged life. Just take care, is all I’m saying.”
    And there’s another page to the book of surprises with Sylvain’s name on it. The immediate lack of response catches him off guard; it’s like he only notices now that the vital part to understand this conversation is missing: The source of his doubt towards Crests.
    Sylvain’s body turns in a split second, his feet facing the direction he’s ready to bold towards, but this time you stand in his way and block him off. “Sylvain, are you okay?”
    He blinks in confusion, then furrows his eyebrows in deep thought like you demanded he recites the Ten Heroes from memory or else fails classes. His face contorts with the effort of looking fine. “Why, yes! Just peachy. Why would you think something is off?”
    “Because I have eyes in my skull.”
    “Very pretty eyes, if I dare say.” His answer comes out like a fire spell, hard and fast, seemingly more instinct than anything else. He clears his throat and scratches his chin, loosing momentum. “Goddess, I am bad at this.”
    “You are.” No need to sugar coat it. “If something happened, just say it.”
    “Nothing really happened, I just—” He exhales audibly and stares into space for a long minute, before side stepping you without difficulty. “Actually, I remembered Professor wanted to see me after class. Something about extra lessons about eh. Horse riding. Yeah. I’ll catch you later, Herald.” He winks and bolds away, darting under your outstretched arm before you can catch him. For someone this tall, he’s surprisingly agile and fast, already disappearing behind a tall hedge towards the main building.
    If that wasn’t the strangest conversation you’ve held with anyone, you don’t know what might excel that. Maybe it’s time you stop avoiding Sylvain.
    The Training Grounds smells of sweat and oil. Many students and knights train, which is surprising at this kind of hour, the short break between afternoon and evening classes. You’d like to know what they’re working on, but Byleth doesn’t tolerate inattention in a classroom or on the battle field, and demands you do push-ups each time your eyes wander somewhere off. You hate her a little for that. For whatever reason, Claude has taken on the role of your partner in crime, and does whatever necessary to make Byleth punish him as well.
    “What can I say, I like a good workout,” he said when you asked. He didn’t even try to hide his lie, looking as miserable as you felt. Probably hating Byleth a little as well.
    It’s the fourth week of private training with her and the house leaders, and so far you can definitely say that you were not meant to fight on the field. You see how your opponent moves, you can somehow predict what they’re going to do next—but your body simply protests to act accordingly. You stumble, you fall, you need a second too long to get up and before you can do anything, a training sword is at your throat. Byleth always looks like she wants to facepalm her fist through her forehead. Or yours.
    “Herald, this is not how you disarm someone,” she says, as always, and demonstrates it in one smooth, swift movement, as always. You blow hair out of your eyes, knowing you’re about to fail again. At least that gave Claude a reason to give you a new nickname, though if it’s better than the last is debatable.
    “You gotta twist your wrist, duckling!” he calls from the other side of the hall, immediately drawing Byleth’s attention to him. He and Dimitri are facing off, both wielding a spear which should give Dimitri the upper hand. So far, he hasn’t landed a single hit on Claude.
    “Keep your elbows in!” Byleth berates Claude. “Stop flapping them like some kind of chicken.”
    Claude lets out a disturbingly convincing cluck.
    You raise an eyebrow. “At least someone’s having fun.”
    Byleth sighs. “He’s going to get himself killed sooner than later.”
    “I don’t know. He’s managed so far, hasn’t he?”
    “I’m not sure if it’s a talent or a fault.” She turns back to you and nods her chin towards the side. “Take a break. I’m going to see how the boys are doing.”
    You nod, tensing all over because that’s where Edelgard is currently standing and picking out a training axe. You haven’t talked to her since lunch, and you can do without it for a couple more hours. She barely glances at you when you walk over, and instead checks out the edge of the wooden blade, turning it left and right.
    “Is she as strict in the classroom as in here?” you ask, unable to go on in awkward silence. Edelgard hums, throwing a quick glance towards Byleth from under her long, white lashes. “She’s systematic and consistent. Capable in both fields. I have no reason to raise any kind of complaint.”
    “That’s impressive.” You sure as heck still wouldn’t want her as a teacher. “Even though she’s been pushed into all this, she handles it like she’s never done anything else.”
    “I think as a mercenary, she is used to changing approaches depending on the employer.” Edelgard is still looking at Byleth. Reading her expression is impossible, and you don’t want to point out that sticking a sword into thieves and bandits is not the same as teaching kids how to fight in a battle. Her head whips to you suddenly, and she considers the training sword in your hand. “Speaking of different approaches,” she continues, “have you considered that your field of combat might be magic?”
    You have, so the answer comes immediately. “Chances are higher I set myself on fire.” You stare at her. “I didn’t mean it to rhyme.”
    Edelgard ignores your last comment. “But you haven’t really tried it out, have you?” Your lack of response is answer enough for her, and she nods like that proves a point.
    It’s complicated. You haven’t really tried it out because … the simple answer is, you’re afraid. It gets tricky once you try to search for the answer to that. There’s just a strange sensation when you try to use magic, like there’s a vast sea of possibilities and one step inside is enough to get you lost. It isn’t as bad with wind spells or white magic. You haven’t touched Fire spells because a crippling fear chills you to the bones every time you manage to nourish a small flame inside your palm—the complete opposite to Dark magic. When you tried a MiasmaΔ for the first time it felt strangely … secure. The rope tying you to a shore, it had felt like—
    There’s a loud crash when the spears collide and Claude knocks Dimitri off his feet. The whole room is silent as everyone watches how Claude taps the blunt end of his practice spear against Dimitri’s chin. “Steady on there, darling,” he says with a smug grin. Dimitri flushes bright red, and pushes with more force than necessary the spear away, quickly climbing to his feet.
    “That wasn’t bad.” Byleth quickly steps in before Dimitri can throttle Claude. “Dimitri, you rely too much on your brute strength. That’s a big disadvantage against someone like Claude. And you, young man,” she turns to Claude who’s been smiling victoriously, “are scheming too much and lose time to take action. In a serious battle, you won’t be as lucky as today.”
    “Noted.” Claude whirls his spear from left to right, almost dropping it when Dimitri drills his elbow into his side. “But in a serious battle, I won’t be upfront. I’ll be hanging back nicely, and skewing my enemies with a myriad of arrows.”
    “You can barely shoot three at the same time,” Dimitri grumbles, his cheeks still splotched with red specks.
    “You wanna bet—”
    “That’s enough, guys, save it for then next round.” Byleth ignores their sulky expressions and turns to you, raising a single eyebrow. The message is clear. What are you waiting for?
    Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. Edelgard doesn’t hesitate at all. “Let’s go.”
    She strides in the middle, training axe raised. It’s made out of wood, but you don’t doubt that she’s able to severe a limb from your body if she only tries hard enough—and what you know of Edelgard is that she alwaysexceeds even her own expectations. You grip your sword tighter. It’s a clear disadvantage, but better than anything else you can handle. Maybe it won’t be as bad.
    The fight lasts for about seven seconds. The moment you raise the blade, Edelgard is on you and unleashes fierce strike after strike, the power behind each hit forcing you back. She doesn’t bat an eyelash when she easily disarms you, the wooden sword flying over your heads and the edge of her axe on your throat. Somewhere behind her, you hear Byleth sigh. “Again.”
    The next hour is torture. Edelgard throws you to the ground, again and again. Byleth keeps telling you to get up, again and again. One might think they would cut you some slack, being the Herald and all, but it feels like Edelgard is so much more aggressive today because you’re the Herald. Or maybe it’s personal. Maybe she’s appointed you to be her sworn enemy, and won’t miss out any chance to make it as hard as possible for you.
    This isn’t fun. Being watched by Dimitri and Claude, who whisper conspiratorially to each other isn’t fun. Luckily, Byleth notices them gawking and bellows them to focus on working on their stances. Right now, you’re thankful nothing escapes her eyes and she calls her students out on their bullshit. It doesn’t make your current situation easier though. Every muscle burns, just raising the sword is exhausting and your feet feel like they’re about to give out any second. This must be hell.
    When Byleth finally ends lessons, you ignore everything and crumble to the ground, splaying your limbs out in all directions. Surely they can clean up without you, two hands less will barely make any difference.
    A shadow settles over you. You know who it is, and don’t bother to open your eyes. “Go away, Byleth. I don’t want to hear how bad I am.”
    “Personally, I think you have improved, Herald.” Your eyes snap open. Dimitri looks down at you, his forehead still glistening from perspiration. “But facing Edelgard as an opponent usually wields those results. Don’t let it bother you.”
    You want to point out that he and Claude don’t seem to have as much problems as you, even though yes, none of them have defeated her yet in practice. He goes down to your level and sits beside you, and you hate how this all barely made him breath hard, like it’s just a stroll around the monastery whereas you’re trying to climb the mountains surrounding it.
    “I think she hates me,” you blurt out. Luckily, most students have already left the hall, Edelgard included. Dimitri considers this a moment, and you don’t know what to make of his lack of immediate response.
    “I doubt she hates you,” he finally says.
    “But?”
    “But she has a hard time warming up to people. Give her time. Once the ice is broken, you will see that her personality is one you’d like to have around.”
    “Oh?” You watch him for a moment, but Dimitri doesn’t blush or look away. It was a heartfelt, sincere statement, which flusters you for some reason. No one should be that honest.
    “Talking about breaking ice. Do you know if something happened to Sylvain?”
    “Sylvain?” Dimitri raises both eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me he harassed you in some kind of way.”
    “No, no, he just—” You finally get up from lying on your back, and try to explain it by frantically moving your hands. Dimitri still looks puzzled. “He said some weird things about Crests in general?”
    “Hm.” Dimitri stares at your hands for a moment, then quickly raises his eyes back to your face. “It’s complicated.” Well, that answer is as good as none. “And I won’t go into details without his consent. I can only say that if he talked about Crests, in whichever way, his brother must have upset him again.”
    “He has a brother?” Now you’re wide awake. Many students have siblings. You know of Hilda’s brother and Raphael’s sister. It shouldn’t surprise you Sylvain has one as well even though he’s never mentioned it before.
    “Do you have siblings?” you ask, generously curious. As heir to a kingdom, it’s hard to imagine his parents would have settled with one child. But he hasn’t mentioned any sisters or brothers as well.
    “Hmm, I have a step-sister,” he says, although very hesitant and you can see if someone doesn’t want to talk about a specific topic. He doesn’t return the question, which is kind of him and makes you wonder … maybe you have a sibling as well. Somewhere. Maybe somewhere in Adrestia or Leicester a younger brother or an older sister is currently looking for you, unrelenting in their journey to be reunited at last. The thought alone brings a flicker of hope alive. Maybe they'll come once word of the Herald’s return travels far enough.
    “I guess as long as Sylvain doesn’t disturb classes or acts out of order, I would leave him to his brooding. I can tell out of experience, only Felix is capable of cheering him up.”
    “Felix?” Your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Are we talking about the same Felix?”
    A smile forms on Dimitri’s mouth. “I understand why imagining that might prove difficult, but I assure you, Felix is one of the view exceeding in handling the mess Sylvain is from time to time.”
    “Felix and Ingrid?” you guess, earning a nod from Dimitri. “Ingrid is a very nice girl,” you continue, picking at a loose thread from your uniform. “But Felix seems detests me. Every time he sees me, he looks like he wants to throw his sword at me.”
    “That is—” Dimitri stops mid-sentence. “That might be not so far off from his true intentions.”
    You groan.
    “But I assure you it is for a different reason than you think. Felix is simply … difficult with people holding a commanding position.”
    “He doesn’t seem to have the same problem with Byleth,” you point out. No, whenever he trains with her, he manages something close to a smile and accepts her guidance. Then again, she isn’t his teacher.
    “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him consider his opinion on you during the Mock Battle. I as well am looking forward to how you will guide us.” Dimitri beams. You stare at him like he’s just lost his head.
    “What?”
    “The Mock Battle three nights from today?” Dimitri’s smile falters a little. “Have the Professor and Lady Rhea not told you yet? You are to participate in the Mock Battle as the commanding unit of the Blue Lions.” Now he’s pulling his eyebrows together in worry. “Herald?”
    “I—” You jump to your feet. “I have to go.” Go far far away. Just yesterday you introduced the students to the tactic called Feigned Withdrawal, which involves staging a retreat in order to induce the enemy to abandon its position and plunge ahead in an attack. Dimitri abandons his position, getting up to go after you, but instead of turning back to surprise him with an ambush, you flee the battle and hope the enemy doesn’t pursue.
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slash-em-up · 4 years
Text
Smoke Screen Pt. 2: The Djinn x Reader
Heeeyyyyyy here’s a part two!!
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There was a jaunty swing to your step as you walked home from the swap meet. You felt good about the purchases you’d made and couldn’t wait to sort through that pile of jewelry for any small treasures that the previous owner might have overlooked.
It felt like a ‘treat yourself’ kind of morning – and for you that meant cinnamon rolls and a giant cup of coffee.
The bakery on the street outside your apartment smelled like heaven. Your stomach rumbled in anticipation of your doughy indulgence as you pulled the door open with a pleasant tinkle of bells.
There were a few other people in line ahead of you, so with a nod and a smile to the owner, you joined the group waiting for their coffee or pastry fix.
You rifled through the small box filled with your recent acquisitions in search of your wallet, which had immediately drifted to the bottom as you stuffed your purchases inside, and your hand clutched around looking for the slim piece of leather.
Knick-knacks from Dell... Nope...
Necklaces... Nuh-uh.
Stone... No.
Ah HA! Success!  
You smirked in pride as you extricated the wallet from its crowded resting place and pulled your debit card loose.
A gentle but urgent tap on your shoulder brought you back to the moment.
“Um, excuse me; but your box is smoking...”
“What?!”
Sure enough, there was a small, but rapidly increasing stream of smoke coming from inside the cardboard walls.
“SHIT!”
Abandoning the line, you dashed into the nearby restroom, ready to splash the container with water – or just fully toss it into the toilet if it came to that.
Figures you’d end up buying one of those electronics that exploded. And the day had been going so well too...
Uncaring for the state of your items, you tossed the contents of your box onto the floor, scattering several under one of the stall doors.  
You frantically scanned the floor for the source of the smoke and followed its trail to one of the items that had slipped under the stall.  
Yelping in panic, you flung the door wide – you would not be responsible for burning down your favorite bakery!  
Any and all further thoughts were abruptly cut short as a loud BOOM sounded and you were flung against the far wall, hitting your head soundly on the hand-dryer.
The smoke billowing out of the stall began to drift over you as your vision began to fade in and out.
Why hadn't anyone else come to investigate?
Where was the fire-department?
Oh god, you didn’t want to die like this...
Another gust of explosive energy knocked you back once more, and the last thing you saw before the world went completely black was a sinuous, dark form seemingly clawing its way out of the floor.
... Shit.
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The echo of a loud roar reverberated through the small room as your eyes blinked open.
Your head felt like it had been sandwiched under a steam roller.
Groaning, you gingerly began to pull yourself upright against the bathroom wall; but froze nearly immediately at the sight in front of you.
A very angry-looking, VERY naked man is crouched in front of you, looking at you like he’s trying to make you disintegrate with his eyes.
He lunged forward as you opened your mouth to scream, clamping a long-fingered hand across your face, wrapping the other around your wrists as you reached out to hit him.
“That would be very unwise.”
Vaguely you noted that the man's voice was extremely attractive; but since he was naked and nearly straddling you, you had other, more urgent, matters to think about.
He shifted and began to speak again, positioning himself directly over your knee, and with as much strength as you could muster, you drove your leg up into his junk.
The man yelped as if he hadn’t anticipated pain like that from your kick.
You squirmed your way out of his hold as he dropped his hands to hold his injured appendage and turned to land another kick directly under his jaw.
He made a noise like a wounded dog and grimaced as he curled in on himself, eyes coming up to rest on yours with a look in them like he wanted to pull you apart with his bare hands.
Not wasting a second, you turned and fled from the bathroom, racing past the counter and the line of patrons staring at you like YOU were the crazy one.
You yelled a vague “CALL THE POLICE” over your shoulder as you booked it down the street and around the corner to your apartment building.
The only thing that stopped you from flying into your home and hiding under the bed for the rest of the week was the bone-chilling realization that you’d left your  stuff back in the bathroom with the crazy naked guy. Phone, keys... wallet. Fuck, if this guy wanted to find you, he wouldn’t have any trouble doing so.
Your head hit your door with a loud ‘bang’, which you immediately regretted as your recent head-injury made itself known once more.
Whimpering, you shuffled across your hall and knocked gently on your neighbor's door.
Mrs. Sandowsky was probably well into her 80’s and blind as a bat – complete with inch-thick bifocal glasses; but you’d still trust her over any security company or guard dog; which is why you’d given her your spare key, just in case something like this happened.
She was irrefutably the floor busy-body; but that was as much of a boon as it was an annoyance, and you offered a warm smile to the woman as her blue-tinted perm poked its way past her triple-chained door.
“Oh, hello dear – did you lock yourself out?”
“Something like that Mrs. Sandowsky. Do you have my spare key handy?”
The old woman blinked up at you.
“Of course, dear; but you should be able to just knock. That man is waiting inside for you.”
You froze.
“The who, now?”
“That charming gentleman caller of yours. He held the door for me when I was coming back from the laundry room. Very handsome. He was carrying a box.”
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“.... Mrs. Sandowsky. I’m going into my apartment now... If I don’t come see you again in five minutes, please call the police...”
Mrs. Sandowsky’s eyes widened comically behind her glasses.
“Yes, of course, dear.”
“... And can I borrow one of your frying pans?”
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Questions like ‘how did this rando beat you to your apartment when you’d been running at a dead sprint’ and ‘why did the door guy let a naked man into the building’ were rattling around in your brain as you snuck into your apartment as quietly as possible – Mrs. Sandowsky’s wok held high like a bat above your head.
You left the door open in case you needed to make a speedy exit and began slowly stepping into the living room.  
“Oh, crazy dude... Come out, come out...”
You circled, keeping your back to the wall.
“I promise I won’t hit you if you don’t startle me...”
That seemed to go over as well as pregnant pole-vaulter, because the next thing you knew the door to your apartment slammed closed, revealing the tall man behind it.
You screeched in surprise and brandished your weapon.
Thankfully the man was no longer naked; but it looked like he’d mugged a homeless person to correct that situation, making his presence only slightly more tolerable.
He raised his hands in surrender and began slowly walking towards you.
“I believe we may have started off on the wrong foot.”
You made a quick swat with the pan.
“You think?! What the hell do you want with me?”
The question brought a sneer to the man's face, making his pretense at civility drop for a moment as he snarled.
“I want NOTHING to do with you, human!”
Shrinking back, you watched as the man took a deep breath, calming himself.
“You woke me.”
You blinked.
“I’m... sorry? I promise I won’t do it again?”
Now the crazy person was looking at you like you were an idiot. Great.
“Not in the physical sense. You woke me from the stone. Into your world.”
“Uh huh... Well, you can go back to sleep now.”
The man muttered something beneath his breath.
“Make a wish, human.”
You were tired, you were stressed, your morning had gone from lovely to terrifying in less than an hour; so you felt fully justified in bursting into tears and yelling “I WANT MY CINNAMON ROLL!!”
There was a disgusted sigh and a slight pop before the scent of cinnamon and baked dough filled the room.
Snotty, and still crying, your mouth dropped open at the sight of a perfectly made pastry appearing out of thin air before you.
Teary eyes met crystal blue as you looked up at the man standing in your living room.
“Now, let’s talk.”
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