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hotelkitchenequipmentsuppliers · 1 year

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Saving with used business kitchen equipment

A successful restaurant starts with its most important element: its location. You need to make sure that you will have a steady flow of customers. An example of a good location would be in a business area. Business people are always on the run and are ready to spend on good food, in order to save time. Likewise, good locations are tourist areas or even a place in the middle of a city, but which has something more peaceful to them than the rest of the neighborhood, perhaps a park, a pond, a few trees, etc. People need to relax when they are eating.

Next, you also need to carefully evaluate how much food you will need to prepare on a daily basis. This will pretty much dictate the size of your restaurant and, consequently, kitchen equipment. As you know, professional kitchen Equipment Manufacturers in Delhi are more expensive, durable, and voluminous.

Rather than investing in new equipment, many restaurant owners prefer to buy 'used' commercial equipment, simply because it's cheaper. An option would be to lease the equipment. If you own a coffee shop, for instance, you can conveniently purchase your equipment in a package from a well-known supplier. It's a good idea to try to get your equipment directly Hotel Equipment Manufacturers in India. This way, you will avoid intermediary commissions. Moreover, you will have access to special offers. It's good to keep in mind that packages of equipment will save you as opposed to getting individual parts.

An important aspect of the good functioning of a restaurant kitchen is its layout. Kitchenware Manufacturers in Delhi know the kitchen workflow very well. He or she will position the stoves, sink, washing machine, etc. in such a way that it takes the least possible time to move dishes and utensils from one workplace to another.

There are a few essential pieces of equipment required in a professional kitchen. Dishwashers, sinks, walk-in freezers, food storage containers, wire shelving, mixers, food processors, bakery equipmeknownt, grills, ovens and warming drawers are some of the essentials. All heavy-duty equipment must be durable.

Even if you opt for second-hand equipment, it's important to try to stick to a high-quality standard. Little used commercial equipment can be purchased at a fraction of the price of new equipment.

As you may know, commercial kitchen equipment depreciates in value over time. Above a certain age, it's not really worth acquiring it anymore and you'll be better off getting a new one. New equipment comes with the added advantage that it's more modern and efficient. One of the most important features of the equipment you are considering is its ability to withstand improper handling. Also, make sure to ask about warranty terms, who can maintain it and how available and expensive are the spare parts.

Sometimes, commercial kitchen equipment is sold due to a malfunction or weak performance. Unfortunately, it's rather hard to detect hidden faults and it takes an experienced eye to catch the problem. Ask your prospective seller to turn it on for you and study it carefully at work. Pay attention to unusual smells, noise, vibrations, overheating, etc. Last, but not least, make sure that the equipment is safe to use.

Opening a restaurant is challenging. You need to study the market and carefully plan out your strategy. Part of it is furnishing your kitchen with a coffee shop design

#Kitchenware Manufacturers in Delhi #Chafing dishes manufacturers in India #Kitchen Equipment Manufacturers in Delhi #Stainless steel tableware Manufacturers in Delhi

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

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Heart of Fire - Azriel x Reader Request

Hiii! A lil fluff request by @charlottewelshshit - hope this is okay for you love<;3

could you do one where the reader is the second eldest archeron sister, she has powers because of the cauldron and Azriel and her are mates please. If It ends in fluff It would be great. Thank you very much <3

Warnings: None.

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Breaking point.

You were truly, utterly at breaking point.

You didn’t know what was different about that day. Each of them, of late, had been a blur of anger and longing swirling and melding into one. Anger at your situation. Longing for some semblance of normality.

But that day—that day, you just knew you would break.

And the trigger was right there before you. Your youngest and eldest sister bickering across the dinner table.

It was no different to when you’d been mortals—Nesta wielding sharp words and Feyre biting back. You didn’t even know what they were arguing about. But these days, it was more than just you and Elain who bore witness to it. The entire Inner Circle watched and held their tongues as Nesta and Feyre tore verbal chunks out of each other.

You just…didn’t get it. Didn’t get how, when you’d been shoved into the Cauldron, had your mortality and your prospects of a normal life ripped from you, they could still find such pathetic, petty things to squabble over. As if you weren’t sat right there, trapped in a life you never gods-damned asked for.

“If you don’t like it, Nesta,” Feyre sniped. “You don’t have to come. Stay home, read your novels, I don’t care.”

You gripped onto your fork, feeling the metal bend out of shape in your palm. Your eyes were pinned, unseeing, to the white table linen.

“Well.” Nesta’s jaw set, sarcasm drenching her tone. “Thank you so much for your permission, High Lady.”

“Do not,” Rhys chimed in, his voice like steel, “use Feyre’s title to condescend to her.”

The fork clattered from your hand. You were going to tip this fucking table over, tear the room apart. Your anger was growing, shaping into its own being.

“Stay out of it, Rhysand.” Nesta spat at your brother-in-law.

You snapped. Totally fucking snapped.

“That’s enough!” You shouted, and your voice was the most horrifying thing you’d ever heard. Like ice and heat, and wind and rain, old and young. It wasn’t you.

But the voice was nothing — nothing — against the physical impact of your anger. Like a storm had swept through the room, the tableware was sent flying on a phantom wind, plates and bowls smashing against the walls, knives and forks imbedding in furniture, drinks spilling all over the place.

And as quickly as it had raged through, it stopped. Anything flying through the air clattered to the floor, and silence cloaked the room. Everyone blinked up at you.

“…my food.” Mor frowned down at the empty space her plate had been sat in.

But it was Cassian you were staring at, guilt immediately choking you. He dislodged a fork from the back of his hand, the wound already healing, the blood already drying. He seemed stunned — and impressed.

You immediately stepped towards him, reaching out as if you could do—something. “Oh, gods, Cassian—”

You could feel it…feel yourself breaking on the inside. If you didn’t get out of there, you would cry, or scream, or maybe stab a fork into your own hand.

“I’m fine.” Cassian promised. “No harm done.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, stepping away from the table. “So sorry.”

You hurried from the room, every bit of you trembling, a cold sweat breaking out over your skin. How were you supposed to live like this? You were a danger — to yourself, and to everyone around you. Everyone you loved.

You staggered to a stop in the garden, bracing your hands against the solid surface of a wall. Tried to calm your breathing. You were so, so angry at the way things had become. What kind of curse was this that the Cauldron had bestowed on you? The ability to feel every damn emotion so strongly it would rip you apart from the inside? And the emotions of others too? You couldn’t live a life of being battered by feelings, couldn’t—

“Y/N.” The voice behind you was soft, gentle.

So heartbreakingly gentle. You felt a tear roll down your cheek.

“Y/N.” Azriel said again, stopping just behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright—”

“How can it possibly be alright, Az?” You rounded on him. There — there was that flare of emotion again. You tried to swallow it down, to steady your breathing. Your voice broke as you said, “How will this ever be alright?”

Azriel’s eyes were soft as they studied you. There no was judgement in them, none of the anger you thought you deserved from him and everyone else after your outburst. Just…kindness. Understanding. Affection.

“It’s not your fault.” He took a step closer. “It will get better.”

A wry laugh fell from your lips. “It will get worse, Azriel. Way worse. I’m completely out of control. You saw what happened in there. What if…what if next time, it’s more than just an injury to the hand? What if I kill someone because I can’t control how I’m feeling?”

His full lips pursed as he studied you. You were suddenly an open book, and he was reading all the thoughts, all the feelings, you’d tried to keep hidden since you'd emerged from the Cauldron as a fae. Each one was tumbling out now.

“You have to stop seeing it as a curse—as a weakness.” He said. “You have to be kinder to yourself. To train and hone it as you would any other power.”

“Power.” You barked another laugh. “Is that what it is? Why couldn’t I have just become a Seer like Elain? Why am I stuck with some damn power that turns emotions into weapons?”

Az was staring at you again, his brow furrowed. You didn’t know what that look meant. The two of you had been growing closer since you’d moved to Velaris, a connection between you definitely blossoming and manifesting in subtle touches and glances — but maybe that was all about to change. Maybe he was seeing you for the liability you’d become.

He took another step closer — and then slowly, gently, took your hand in his. The warmth of it was soothing, like a droplet of calm in a vast ocean of chaos. With such careful movements, he tugged you with him, and sat down with you on a nearby bench.

“Do you know when I first realised you were someone special?” He asked quietly, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your palm.

You frowned, shaking your head. Someone special—that was what he thought of you?

“It was when you were still human. Way before you were dragged into that Cauldron.” His eyes scanned your face. “When Feyre brought us to your estate in the human lands, seeking your help. You were the only one who wasn’t scared of us or rude to us. Nesta and Elain retired to bed that night, but you stayed up and talked to us. Helped us write the letter to the human queens.”

You remembered — of course you did. Because you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt that might, to have three brilliant, breathtaking fae males in your home. Nesta would have throttled you if she’d known that you’d stayed awake and chatted with Feyre and the Illyrians well into the early hours.

And you’d been utterly enamoured with Azriel right from the very beginning. But you hadn’t considered that he may have seen you as anything other than a plain, human woman.

His fingers laced between yours, dragging you back to the present. “That night,” He said, “We told you all about Amarantha—what she’d done to our kind. The horrors that everyone trapped Under the Mountain had suffered. And even though you’d been taught to fear us…even though you didn’t know us…you cried for us. For our pain and our suffering. You didn’t hesitate to volunteer your help in any way we needed it. And I knew—I knew then that you were something special. Because most people can’t feel emotions the way you feel them. On such a deep level.”

You didn’t realise you were crying again until a teardrop fell onto your lap. Azriel reached out his other hand, gently wiping your cheek with his thumb.

“You mustn’t fear yourself, Y/N.” He whispered. “You should be proud of that fire in your heart. To feel so freely…to empathise with others…it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

The dam on your tears broke, and Azriel tugged you closer as they flowed free—months and months of pent-up emotion being expelled from your body, your heart.

Suddenly, you were in Az’s lap, his arms wrapped around you. He rocked you through your shuddering sobs, his hand stroking your back. His shadows coiled around you, wiping your tears with feather-light touches.

“You’re brilliant.” Az murmured in your ear, his lips brushing the lobe. “And you’re going to be okay. We’ll be okay–together.”

You pulled back just slightly — just enough to look at him, to meet his eyes. There was pure truth shining there — he truly, thoroughly believed his own words.

And if he could…surely you could, too.

Your eyes flickered to his lips. So wonderful, this male. So quiet and sensitive and real. Your anger was quickly dissipating and being replaced with another emotion. One that was far more pleasant and tasted like winter berries and warmth.

You loved him. You were in love with the Shadowsinger.

“You…you feel it too, don’t you?” You glanced at his lips again. “This…bond between us.”

His answering nod was strong – sure. “I do…I always have. But even more since the Cauldron. I think I’ve always known that you…that you’re my mate.”

Mate. The word sang in your head. You’d seen the bond between Feyre and Rhys…that unbreakable, invisible thing that tethered them together so passionately. Had you truly been lucky enough to have found the same thing? And with a brilliant male like Azriel, no less?

And if you had…maybe the Cauldron hadn’t damned you so terribly like you’d thought. Maybe you could weather the bad to have the good. To have him.

Your mate.

It only took that thought, that realisation, to spur you on. Azriel watched you as you leaned closer, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. You tentatively brushed your lips against his, giving him a moment to pull away, to change his mind.

But it was he who closed that gap and kissed you properly.

It was both firm and gentle, a soft kiss as he moved his hand from your back to cradle the back of your head, his fingers twisting within your hair. The reciprocation gave you the confidence you needed to push a bit further — you pulled him against you and nipped his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth as it opened on a gasp.

Kissing him was like being home. Just…just right. You wanted to do this forever, feel this forever. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if you pulled back and found yourself literally glowing.

His tongue danced around yours, his lips working utter magic. Only when the two of you were huffing breaths did you both pull away, and a smile tugged at Azriel’s lips.

“That,” He said, kissing you once, “is my favourite emotion.”

You couldn’t help mirroring his smile, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. This was how you wanted to feel. Forever.

Maybe things really could be okay.

It certainly seemed that way as Azriel leaned in and kissed you again.

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All Acotar tags list: @moonfawnx @moonlitcelestial @writingsbychlo @orangecreamsicle54 @saturnspoet0711 @andahugaroundtheneck @nightscourtt @mysticalcheesecakemiracle @luckypersonmentality @nobody00sthings @kristalhi @tencrushesperday @janzquu @we-were-beautiful @thewarriormoon @cirwin2013 @mrs-azriel @brekkershadowsinger @the-kwami-of-fandom-frustration @libraryofathousandstars @daily-dose-of-sass @pixiestix13 @basicbittywitty @simplefan-638 @highlady-ofillyria @false-desire-182 @fictionalcharacterlereasigim @theofficialmadman @kemillfreitas @sledgehammer21-1 @shannonsaid @jtargs @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @new-adventures-everyday @positivewitch @crushedcloudsx @cartoonnerdgirl @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ssmay123 @linduzmunna @ruler-of-hades @kennedy-brooke @peachyandmoon @ariaaira @topaz125 @blitz-fall @azrielsbbg @gracedarr @goldentournesol @localhopedealerr @swagfreakathletemonger @sfhsgrad-blog @lo0oserlex @ruleroftides @mayabennett03 @vera0124 @mich0731 @balam-sen @luciensbxtch

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thesparklingwriter · 7 months

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taking fate into one's own hands

04—acquaintance

Word count: 1.3k

navi | taglist | masterlist

You look at him carefully. Perhaps this whole act he’s putting on is an attempt to be more personable. But it’s in your best interests to, at the very least, get along with the man you’ve been promised to. When it comes to loveless marriages to bind nations, divorce isn’t an option. There’s no going back.

“Alright, I’ll eat dinner with you.” You say quietly, and the sides of Morax’s lips quirk upwards. You’re convinced for a second that you made it up somehow, for even when he’d spoken to you as a dignitary, he hadn’t smiled once.

“I hope your room is to your liking,” He says, as you follow behind him. “If there’s anything that it is lacking, please do let me or one of the help know.”

You glance at him, convinced that he can’t be in earnest. He’d been so stoic when you first met him, and even once he’d come clean in regards to his identity, his emotions towards you had seemed to be nothing more than detached amusement.

“Everything is alright, thank you.” you say, bowing your head in gratitude to the man who places your food on your table. You hadn’t considered the change in cuisine and you steel your expression as well as you can, in order to not show your hesitation to eat the unfamiliar food. The butler pours you each a drink, a glistening pale wine, and bows as he excuses himself quietly. Besides your plate, there are golden chopsticks, and then a fork by its side, its dark silver tone standing out against the rest of the tableware. Is it some kind of test?

You glance worriedly between the two, as Morax’s unruffled gaze settles on you.

“You seem troubled. If I may, might I request that you speak freely?”

You glance down at the cutlery again and back up at him, shaking your head softly.

“Nothing troubles me.” you whisper, picking up the two chopsticks as confidently as you can, arranging them in your hands as subtly as you can. You haven’t seen anyone eat with chopsticks for a long time, and suddenly realise you should have waited for him to start so you could copy his technique.

You attempt to pretend to take a sip of your drink or look at the spices on the table to delay your eating, but Morax simply watches you with an even gaze as you quietly panic.

“Is the food not to your taste?” he asks you, finally looking away from you to pick up a fork. “I find that sometimes chopsticks make eating take longer than necessary. I used your arrival as a reason to justify getting some new cutlery.”

You blink at him. “Pardon me if I speak out of turn, but I had always believed you were a firm believer in traditions.” you refuse to relinquish your chopsticks, too embarrassed to admit that using them was a front to try and impress him. You hadn't realised you were acting in a way that might win his favour—and the thought of it surprises you.

Morax’s eyebrows quirk slightly at your implied question, carefully trying to craft an answer that wouldn’t make you question your presence in the palace too much. Perhaps the reaction you’ve had towards him so far is out of fear that you’re not Liyuean enough from him and his people. It wouldn’t be an absurd thought, but if the situation in your home nation remains as rocky as it is now, he wouldn’t want you to return. He certainly want to be the reason you go back, either.

“Ah,” he says quietly, chewing his food. “That is a common misconception. Perhaps when it comes to certain meetings and negotiations, it is true that I remain true to the conditions that have always been stipulated by ancient Liyuean law. However, I myself, think there isn’t much to be learned by holding steadfastly onto tradition in day to day life.”

You gape at him. “So I’m not to be hated by every member of Liyue for not hailing from here?”

Morax sighs. “I cannot speak for my people. I sometimes find they can be stubborn and they often do not like change.”

“You are not filling me with confidence.” You reply drily. Morax fixes you with an even stare, wanting to make sure you listen to his next words.

“I do not seek to deceive you.” he replies evenly. “As of right now, our arrangement is unofficial. Thus you have every right to choose how you wish to proceed. If you cannot bear to stay here with me for a moment longer, you may go home at any point.”

“But what would come of my kingdom, or of me?”

“That would be subject to negotiation. But in situations like that, Liyuean law isn’t particularly favourable for foreigners.”

The word foreigner hits you in your chest. Of course, you didn’t expect to be treated as if you were from here, but to be categorised as something else entirely? It stings, regardless of how you feel about the situation with Morax.

“Your food,” he prompts quietly. Even though you’re almost certain that he isn't going to smite you for using the fork instead of the chopsticks, you refuse to put them down, instead choosing to use them with varying degrees of success.

He watches you carefully, before silently switching to his own chopsticks, quietly pleased with the way you snatch looks at him to copy his form. Slowly, but surely, he’s beginning to understand the way your mind works.

“Have you any interest in looking around Liyue? I’m sure a tour could be organised, if that’s what you wish.” he says to you, once you’ve finished. The food is good, almost as good as the food was at home before things began to go south.

You want to say no, and to stay within the confines of your new room for as long as you can manage, but the lack of clothing is beginning to worry you. When you don’t immediately reply, Morax tries again.

“Have you everything you need?” He says. “If you aren’t interested in looking around the harbour’s stalls as of now, you can always request what you need from the help, and I’m sure they’d be happy to oblige. The choice is yours.”

You take a bite of your food, and try not to cringe at the sudden spice you taste, trying to calmly take a sip of your wine.

“Let me finish my dinner before I make that decision,” you say quietly, and Morax simply nods, his eyes narrowing at you slightly. You don’t notice, almost entirely focused on trying to finish the rest of your food without falling apart.

Compared to where you come from, Liyue is loud. Even when you’re deep in the mountains as you are now, the birds and crickets and bugs are louder than they ever were at home, and it makes for a somewhat settling feeling.

“Whilst we’re on the topic of shopping,” You say quietly, ashamed in advance of the words you’re about to say. “It’s not a secret that my nation wasn’t the most prosperous, my existence here is evidence of that—”

“You are here as a guest. Nothing is expected of you in a monetary or emotional aspect unless you are able and willing to provide. Do not worry about things that are unnecessary.”

Your naivety manifests itself in the raucous beating of your chest in response to his words, and you find yourself utterly embarrassed by how easily swayed you are by a basic display of human decency and respected boundaries.

“Alright,” you say quietly. His words have removed him from the centre of your decision and it’s only yourself to consider now. But perhaps that makes the decision harder.

(didn't have enough character left to write what reader says like i usually do sorry lol)

notes: i'm afraid that doing the polls like this will nerf this series even more but its less work for me so :3

i like to pretend that i don't really care about notes and stuff on my posts but for this series specifically the lack of engagement is gagging me lol i've tried so much to get it more out there but ahhh

taglist: @ainescribe @tartigglez

#genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli fan fiction #genshin fanfiction #choose your own path #[🧡]—taking fate into one’s own hands #zhongli fan fic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #zhongli fanfic #fanfiction #zhongli royalty au #royalty au #genshin polls #polls

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muizin · 25 days

Text

Gold Dinnerware Set Stainless Steel Tableware Set Knife Fork Spoon Luxury Cutlery Set With Storage Rack Dishwasher

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bornofchalk · 1 year

Text

the year's first dream

The start of a new year, and perhaps the start of something new.

xiao x gn reader

words: 884

warnings: fluff, first kiss (feel free to suggest any warnings!)

author's note: this is embarrassingly late because the idea to write this only popped into my head minutes before the new year arrived, but i couldn't not write it! this is longer than what i usually write because i love xiao i gave in to the longwinded tendencies! i tried to take a more optimistic approach this time so i hope this is not ooc ;;

⠀

when you call xiao's name a quarter to midnight and your wait stretches from a couple of seconds to a handful, you forgo the quiet ticking of the hands of your watch for the beat of your pounding heart. your ears thank you for it.

there's no hiding the flinch that runs through your body when he finally does appear a few heartbeats later, materializing among familiar wisps of black and teal. in resisting the urge to check your watch one last time, you present the almond tofu that you have been holding to him, ignoring the way the pads of your fingers have gone cold against the chilled plate.

except xiao is not looking at you, but instead inspecting the surroundings for danger with a few quick sweeps of his gaze, danger that you know does not exist. do you really seem that nervous?

"what is it?"

"i wanted to see you," you don't say.

you swallow around the lump in your throat and hold the plate out a little farther, exhale a second longer as he receives it with a slight dip of his head.

"i made it this time," you say hesitantly. you think there might be a pause in the chewing of his first bite, but if there was one, it was a mere fraction of a heartbeat.

"it's not bad."

his tone gives away nothing, but there is a squeeze of something warm in your chest, and you manage a smile at the compliment. "i'm glad."

there is something graceful about even the way he eats, a simple smoothness to the retrieval and delivery of each spoonful. the cut of the dessert in no way rivals that of an experienced chef, but xiao seems to savor it all the same. you watch as he licks away a morsel from the corner of his mouth. you remind yourself that it is rude to stare.

"why did you call for me?"

"hm?"

there is a clink of tableware. you wring your hands. "is it not tradition to spend this time with family and friends?"

perhaps it is. but how are you to convey to him that, more than anyone else, he is the one that you want by your side?

it is now or never. the sound of your pulse has grown steady, and it becomes the pillar with which you steel yourself, steel your resolve.

"it is, but..." you draw closer until you feel you no longer can. your heart stutters at the way his eyes widen with the growing proximity.

"i called you because i want you to be the last thing i see this year," you murmur, "and the first thing i see in the next." you finally meet his eyes, and you find that, by some unseen force, you can no longer look away. "is that alright with you?"

you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat now, when you are close enough to feel the brush of his breath on your skin. you drink it all in — the wavering of his eyes, their ethereal gold under the moonlight, and the dilation of his pupils.

he hums, a confirmation so quiet you almost miss it.

"are you sure?"

"i'm sure," he breathes.

you think that there may be fireworks, faraway crackles and flickers of light at the edges of your vision registering faintly, but you cannot be sure when all you know is the visage of the man you love and the thundering in your ears.

"good," you say, sotto voce, "because this tradition is one that i can only complete with you."

there is a warm blush painted where you bring your hand to xiao's cheek. at the sight of his lidded eyes, rife with unspoken sentiment, you test the waters, hover just shy of the point of contact, and when the distance finally disappears, you find that you are not certain you were the one to erase it.

you think to yourself how perfect it all is — the sound of fireworks in the distance, kissing the one person you have longed to do this with, even the caution and hesitation and gentleness found in xiao's hands on your back and in the way his lips move against yours. it is a moment that you are reluctant to end, but this moment was always meant to be a fleeting one.

"happy new year, xiao," you whisper once you have parted enough to speak, and you mean it with your whole heart.

"happy new year," xiao echoes, voice thick with emotion in the way that never fails to make your throat clench.

"would you want to do this again next year?" and the year after that, and for the rest of the years to come?

a fond sigh tickles your cheek. "if it is what you truly want, i wouldn't be opposed."

with those words, you finally dare to smile freely, delight washing over you and bubbling out in the form of laughter, and you hope that you are not imagining the lift that graces the corners of xiao's lips.

when you lean in to kiss him once more, he meets you halfway, and you think you are a little closer to understanding what xiao means when he says that almond tofu tastes of sweet dreams.

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #xiao imagines #xiao #genshin impact #genshin xiao #ky(ra) writes

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moon-catto · 2 years

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Numbers in Your Phone

Summary: Gojo's never been so serious in any of his relationships. Every girl he met is no more than a number in his phone—except you.

Warning: Mild angst, fluff, comfort.

Thinking about this while listening to Too many By Sik-K.

Masterlist

Easily bored.

You can describe Gojo with those words. He never found amusement in routine and rules, always trying something new and breaking his own limit while doing so.

This also include on how he built his supposed to be romantic relationships with partners. Two weeks is the most time he would spent with a girl—because again, he's a person who's quickly bored with the same thing over and over again.

He never wore the same coat thrice, buy a new one and keep the old one deep inside his wardrobe. He also treated his former partner that way, after he felt bored he would delete their contacts and saved a new one. A new victim.

You can blame him, call him a jerk if you will yet he doesn't care about it. He just need something to fill the constant void in his heart—the source of his boredom, one he keeps trying to cover with quick repairs: number by number in his phone, yet proven to made the hollow worsen.

Nothing amused him. Being the strongest has its' consequences he noticed. A perfect solitude with never ending loneliness.

The only person who understands him is long gone and left him traces of bitter numb feelings. Soon, the number in his phone doesn't add up anymore. The only notification in his phone is some new messages from his old flings, he can't bring himself to reply them.

He's selfish, isn't he? Attracting innocent girls who thought just maybe, he may offered his heart in exchange of their companion for a few days. He also should've known better, all of these numbers is nothing but a quick distraction.

He's easily bored.

"Zoning out again?" The familiar gentle voice awoken him from his train of thoughts.

He blinked twice, finally noticing the dish served in front of him—now cold on how long he's abandoning it. Now he realized he's in the middle of his luncheon at home, getting ready to attend the clan heads meeting for the nth time in this month alone.

Thinking about the useless meeting made him rolled his eyes so hard, they might fell off from his eye sockets.

"I'll reheat the food, please wait for a moment." He realized again, he's not alone in his ridiculously large dining room. His assistant—you— is currently helping serving his lunch instead of his maid. His orders.

He watched you in quiet, putting the dish in the microwave with graceful elegance pouring in each of your movements. You're the daughter of a well known clan after all, trusted by his family to take care of their sole heir by acting as his right hand—his spokeperson, his friend.

Then he thought—you've been with him so long, even before he met Suguru. You knew him since childhood, actually your parents pushed and forced you to befriend him to built some connections with his wealthy family. He remembered how you were trembling under his striking creulean gaze and indifferent expression. Took you months to crumble a bit of his steel wall, allowing you to proudly proclaimed yourself as his friend.

You grew up with him, spending your childhood as his maid rather than a friend. He frowned, feeling his conscience stabbing his heart when he saw you're back with his reheated foods. A faint smile on your pretty face.

"... Thanks." He mumbled and started digging into his food despite the lack of appetite.

"No problem." You excused yourself to the kitchen counter. Opening your tablet to start typing the report which was supposed to be done by him.

Another stab to the heart.

You've been so good to him. Entertaining his pranks and immature jokes. When everyone around him keeps changing and replaced by somebody new, you remained.

The only constant number in his phone, is you.

He took notice of it while finishing his foods. The clinking sound of his tableware disrupts your typing. "Done?" You asked and he wondered how you always sound so gentle and soft everytime you speak.

"Yeah." He pushed his chair to the back. Letting you to lift the dishes from the table.

He lay on the couch in the next room. Exhaling air loudly between his pink lips. He hasn't done anything heavy but he's so tired.

He heard your footsteps approaching. A cold palm touched his forehead. He cracks one eye open, seeing you squatting beside him. He gulped, eyebrows furrowed just slightly on the sudden close proximity between you both.

"You're not sick." You said.

"What?"

"Lately you're not focusing on your task." You tilted your head to emphasize your confusion. "Need a new date?"

"Huh?"

"The last girl doesn't seem to satisfy you," you said with utmost calmness, yet your steady gaze on him got his cheeks reddened. "I can find you another one."

His frown became more prominent as you continue talking. "I don't need a date."

"Whoa, really?" You fake gasped, touching his forehead again with your hand. "Are you really the Gojo Satoru i knew?"

He chuckled while securing your hand on his forehead with his larger hand. "Why are you that surprised?"

"You're easily bored. So i figure that you need a new girlfriend."

"True." He nodded, quite pleased that you understand him and not judging him like other people would do. "But no girlfriend needed for now."

"I see. Should i reserve a ticket to Maldives for you?"

He eyed you with a glint on his eyes. Ah, a bad sign.

"Will you come with me if i go?"

"For business purposes?"

He sighed in desperation. "Is work the only thing in your pretty little head, Y/N?"

"Of course." You answered immediately. "That's the only relationship we have." You deadpanned.

"Ouch, burned." He hold his chest in an attempt to fake being hurt. But honestly, it does hurt him a bit.

You replied with a laugh and the pain in his chest magically dissolved.

"So when we're not together," he began. "You're not thinking about work?"

"Why, yes." You mused, a sweet smile took over your bright features—that captivated his eyes in one glance. "You see, Gojo-san." Your index finger pointed to his nose. "Whenever i see your face, it means i will be sacrificing the next eight hours of my life with an immaculate amount of stress worth of three years." You quickly booped his nose—his heart jumped at the little gesture.

"How mean, this is what you thought of me when i treated you foods everyday and raised your wage every month?" He scoffed. "Now I'm hurt."

"Ah, i forgot about the raise. I'm truly sorry for hurting your feelings, Gojo-san. Please don't stop raising my salary." You cheekily replied—which made a smile cracked on his pretty face.

"You're lucky you're cute." He closed his eyes and then chuckled lightly.

"You mean, you're lucky to have a cute assistant like me?"

"That too." His smile grew wider. Your relationship has grown into this—he doesn't know what to call it, but he's pleasant with this. With you. You're not his maid, his subordinate. You're more than that.

He felt his head being pushed by something soft—a pillow, and then his body covered with blanket with a pleasant fragrance of detergent.

His eyes looked at you with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile.

"Seems you're not in your best condition to attend the meeting, therefore i will inform the other head clans to continue the meeting without you." You replied his smile with a gentle one of yours.

"have i told you how much i love you?"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes before pulling the blanket to his chest.

"You don't say it back?" He pouted.

"Will you raise my salary if i do so?"

"Yes, twice as much."

"I love you too." You said with a cute grin. "Thank you, Gojo-san."

He knew you don't mean it. After all, your words have some truth behind them.

Work is the only relationship we have.

You are no more than a business contact in his phone.

But when you grinned at him like that, he hoped that you both can be more than just that.

I like slow burn story like this. How bout you?

Masterlist

#gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #gojou x reader #ayy i like this one #Spotify

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waeirfaahl · 7 months

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Steele's nicknames toward Balto

In the film there's the two specific nicknames Steele refers to Balto, which are absolutely confusing and weird. However, the nicknames were different in the script, and these early versions had more sense, so I have no idea, why they were replaced. 1. "Out of my way, lobo!" — why Steele refers to Balto as "lobo"? Some people assume it is a reference to the wolf from the book with the same name (Lobo), some people think it is a "wolf" in Spanish. Plus, "Balto: The Movie Storybook" has exactly the "Out of my way, wolf!" line instead. However, the word "lobo" has another meaning — "lobo" is also a word for a person with the mixed heritage. And, by the way, in the script Steele says exactly "Out of my way, half-breed!".

So, why the authors changed that? Yes, Steele says "half-breed", but this line doesn't reveal Balto as a wolfdog, it simply hints this, making us think not about the wolf heritage, but simply the "Pure-bred dog and stray mongrel" thing. I.e. it is more subtle, but informative at the same time. Plus, Steele's next line "Oh, I'm sorry, Balto. Balto the... half-breed!" is the logical progression in this case.

2. "Didn't make the team, Bingo?" — this one is even more confusing. Why Bingo? What does it mean? Is this a word play, where Steele said "Am I right?" as "bingo", while Balto considered it as his wrongly said name? The funniest thing is that in the script Steele says "Trip over a barrel, wolfie?" instead. And it makes much more sense.

First of all, this line shows more rude, arrogant and xenophobic shades. Second, the "wolfie" thing fits to Balto's inner conflict and arc, because he wants to be a dog and denies his wolf side, hence "half-wolf", "wolfdog" and "wolfie" are very painful words for him. And third, this Steele's line allows to Balto to realize that the trouble with barrels was exactly Steele's malice. In these conditions Balto's anger and answer "My name is Balto!" makes sense, he already realizes that Steele is a bad dog. Yes, there was the deleted scene, which happened after the race, but before the bullying in the alley. Balto finds Rosie's lost mitten and wants to return it to the girl, while Steele loosens the barrels on the cart, causing one of them to fall and roll towards Balto.

Balto tries to dodge the barrel, but falls right into the tableware store where Rosie's father worked. Laughing dogs run away, Rosie's father almost beats Balto with a broom, Rosie stands up for him, Balto finds a mitten and gives it to Rosie, for which she thanks him. And then Rosie's dad calls her and Jenna to come to his store. And then the bullying scene happens.

So, yes, if they wanted to delete this scene and change the lines, better to replace it with "Didn't make the team, wolfie?". Without this confusing and weird "Bingo" taunting, which comes from nowhere and makes zero sense.

#balto #balto movie #balto 1995 #steele balto 1995

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