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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you write a Dream BBQ Ena x Emotionless Reader?

More spefically Ena and Reader have been partners for a long time Ena being the more emotional one while Reader barely smiles in a year but then one time after a particularly brutal day of typical rejection and dislike bb people Ena feels more down then usual and finds a letter in her room that simply and basically says "I'll always be right beside you ~reader"

Thanks!

When Ena first started dating you, she knew that you'd come as a "surprise package deal". Never knowing how you'll act and being ready for anything.

However, she notices that package was severely lacking in "emotional factor"--more specifcally, you didn't show much emotion.

You carried only 0.5% of the emotional capacity in this relationship, while she conquered the other 99.5%...and it's been that way for the longest time.

No matter what shenanigans you both got up to while carrying out assignments, she has yet to see you crack a smile.

Of course, you'd express annoyance, discontent, and the like with your job. But she cannot recall a single time she's seen you smile.

There was one occasion where she saw a brief twitch of your lips after a rude customer spontaneously combusted...but that was a year ago, and she's certain her memory of that specific moment is thoroughly infaccurate.

Despite her best efforts, she can't get you to smile for her.

Even when Salesperson flirts with you and gives you hugs, or when Meanie demands you to "stop looking so damn heartless"....your expression barely wavers.

The truth is that it's not "trauma" or anything significant in your life that's made you become emotionless.

You've always been like this. It's that simple.

But apparently Ena thinks there's a deeper meaning, and she's desperate to unlock that mystery someday.

Froggy doesn't think it's a big deal, as smiling's not part of your job description nor any criteria, but she insists he'd never understand the "unique partnership" you two have.

One day, she goes off on a solo assignment...and has some deep regrets on not inviting you along when everybody she spoke to was extra rude, getting her name wrong, and/or threatening her with violence simply for existing.

Normally, she wouldn't have a care in the world....until one client in particular mocked that she'd never find love and that in the unlikely event she did have a partner...they'd be "absolutely disgusted".

Nothing even warranted that outburst.

She only did them a kind favor and that's their repayment.

But....could it be true?

That your emotionless demeanor was directed to her and her alone? Were you telling her she was disgusting and abhorrent to be around without saying a word? Did you only stay with her for the benefits?

The thoughts wouldn't leave her head as she dragged herself home, throwing her hat off and flopping onto the bed, the weight of that stranger's words pressing down on her like a bag of anvils.

"Maybe this was a pointless endeavor. They deserve better. I'm just a lower class citizen...chasing a pipe dream.." She mumbles into a pillow, ready to accept and sink into her depression--

But then her clawed hand makes contact with a piece of paper. Something she hasn't noticed before.

Turning her head, she realizes that it's a letter addressed to her. From you.

She expects the worst. Your resignation from this partnership. An eviction notice. An itemized list of grievances.

But it's none of the above.

Instead, what you wrote to her felt like you've given her the winning lottery numbers.

"I may not express it as often as I should, but I love you, Ena. And I'll always be right beside you--[Y/N]"

"P.S. Here's that smile you've always wanted :)"

In an micro-instant, she went from wanting to sob into her pillow to hugging it as she giggles like a schoolgirl, reading the note over and over again.

Suddenly, her world's not imploding anymore.

Suddenly, life's worth living again.

Because you showed her that you cared in other ways.

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Astarion's companions have had quite enough of his mocking nicknames and decide to turn the tables on him ...

[Astarion x GN Tav]

Genres: Romance, Humour, Crack, Action

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

(Hello friends! In my new run, I've been playing Astarion as a bard, and I thought about how everyone might be subject to his little taunts, lol. If you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, let me know!)

"Gods, it's irritating."

"It's ... not that bad."

"You would think so."

You coughed and straightened, glancing back over your shoulder at Shadowheart. You had both struck out into the woods near camp, collecting firewood for the evening meal. Shadowheart had chosen this time to offload her frustrations about a specific issue that had evidently been plaguing her.

You shook your head, a slightly pained expression finding a home on your face.

"That's not fair. I'm subject to it more than you, so maybe I'm just ... gathering immunity."

"But it's endless. And for the rest of us, it's mocking. He never really insults you. And he says the things that he knows we find annoying."

"Well ... that's Astarion. It's part of the package."

She sauntered ahead of you, bending over exaggeratedly in what you assumed was an imitation of the charming rogue.

"Oh look, my precious sex dewdrop. Look at my perfect little buttocks. What do you think, honeymuffin? Doesn't it look delectable in leather?"

You almost dropped the firewood you were carrying as she arched her back and fluffed out imaginary curls.

"Mmmm, I'm so famished, my sweet bloodsicle. Want me to get on top of you and writhe like a passionate leech while you go cross-eyed under my ministrations?"

You couldn't help the snort that escaped you.

"All right, look, I know the pet names are excessive ... "

"All the time. Every day."

"Well, what do you suggest then? He isn't going to stop because you ask him to. In fact, he'll probably get worse. You know how he is."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"You make a good point."

"So, if there's to be an intervention of some kind ... "

Shadowheart snapped her fingers.

"Wait. How about ... we give him a taste of his own medicine? Astarion talks all flowery, but he hates the sentimental. Or being made fun of himself."

You paused and gave the idea some thought.

"You're ... right about that. But then, how would we - "

"Leave it to me. I've got an idea."

For all that she was a friend to animals, plants and sometimes the softer side of life, Shadowheart's expressions could turn positively demonic when she schemed. As much as Astarion was a slippery customer, you were sure he was going to face something wholly unexpected in the near future.

Shadowheart's plan was put into action when next you raided a goblin outpost. Astarion was completely unwitting regarding what was about to befall him. Your other companions, by some sly means, had all been briefed beforehand.

The primary objective was to hike up to a rocky ledge, set up camp, and take the goblins by surprise just before the crack of dawn, that hazy time when the dangers of the night seemed about to tuck themselves away to make room for the new day.

It started during the climb to the spot you'd scouted out earlier. Astarion was already grumbling about sore muscles. He was never in the best of moods when a tough trek was inevitable. 

Karlach exchanged glances with Shadowheart before approaching him with her customary cheerful demeanour, guaranteed to rub him the wrong way.

"Astarion? You okay?"

"Oh, just wonderful, sweetie," he replied acidly, "Having the absolute time of my life, come to think of it."

She gallantly offered him her back.

"Well, climb on then, my nimble Cherry Chomper. I can help you for a bit."

"Oh ... I ... "

You bit your lip as you saw Astarion vacillate between questioning the strange nickname and accepting the assistance offered.

"Well, thank you. For just a while, then."

Wyll hastily scooped up Astarion's pack, waving him off when he reached for it.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Curly Pops. I've got it."

A crease formed between Astarion's brows, but he settled himself comfortably on Karlach's back as she straightened effortlessly and carried him up the slope.

A little further on, you spotted a movement somewhere in the sparse, hardy mountain brush. Tugging your bow down from your shoulder, you gestured to your companions.

"A mountain goat. Just up there. Should make a good roast for camp."

Astarion's tongue ran over his fangs and he made to slip down from his perch on Karlach.

"Let me assist you with that."

Gale waved him off absently.

"Oh, no need, Petal Cheeks. I'll just cast a holding spell. That'll keep it in place."

Astarion opened his mouth to protest, but the Weave was already leaping from Gale's fingers, and your arrow flew true, quivering through the air towards your intended prey. The goat went down with a faint bleat.

Lae'zel gave a humph of approval.

"Good kill. Nice and clean."

She jerked her head at Astarion.

"Would have been a lot messier if Ghaik Gobbler here went after it."

"Excuse me?"

"Upsy daisy, Lord Lazy!"

Karlach hitched Astarion up on her shoulders again, ignoring the truly bewildered look that had now adorned his face.

She had recently received her engine upgrade, and her burning heat had simmered down to a warmth that surrounded her in a welcoming aura the further you climbed into the frosty heights. Astarion looked on the verge of questioning things, but seemed to decide against it in order to remain in this rare offer of luxurious comfort.

Soon, the campsite you'd spotted came into view, a series of sheltered ledges, wide enough to accommodate your bedrolls. The cliff curved around the longest jut of rock, concealing a campfire from the valley below. It was perfect.

Your companions made short work of setting up camp, with the goat skinned and ready to be subject to Lae'zel's quick and efficient butchery. Now came the bloodletting, a ritual of sorts which you enacted every time you obtained a new kill. The blood was always stored as an emergency reserve for your resident vampire.

Astarion sauntered over, in singularly good spirits after having been spared the most grueling portion of the climb. A razor-edged knife slid into position between his fingers, drawn seemingly from thin air.

"Here, let me - "

Shadowheart beat him to it, her face carefully stoic as her own blade sliced through the jugular of the goat, angling the head and neck such that blood poured into a sturdy wooden vessel.

She eyed his surprised expression before shrugging one shoulder.

"Tough luck, Fairy Fingers. Someone else has to do it sometimes. Here."

She handed him the bowl and you watched as Astarion's eyes flickered suspiciously back and forth between her and everyone else.

"What is wrong with the lot of you? You're being awfully sweet to me today. Am I missing something?"

At that moment, Halsin's hulking form appeared on the lip of the ledge and he came forward, shaking his shoulders to rid them of the cold. You had asked him to send out his animal envoys, to scope out the goblin encampment and report relevant information back to him.

He came toward the fire, his large hands placing themselves firmly on Astarion's shoulders and moving him out of the way, much a like a bear cub being lifted by the scruff of its neck.

"Ah, make way there, plucky ducky. That fire's calling my name."

"Plucky what?"

Ignoring the spitting outrage, Halsin relayed his intel to you, warming his fingers over the roaring blaze.

"Approximately sixteen of them, in and around the area. Five guards on regular patrol. They have a warlock and their position is a good one. They've managed to stake themselves a spot where they can see all approaches from the land on either side."

You frowned thoughtfully.

"What do you suggest? We could approach from the woods behind them, but that might take a while and we want our presence to be a surprise."

Astarion took a decisive step in front of Halsin, hands on his hips. He'd been compelled to take up the sidelines for long enough and now he was asserting his presence again.

"Now listen here, sweetheart, there's another perfectly good approach we could use."

His finger drew a curved line through the crude map Halsin had sketched in the dirt.

"I can sneak into the camp, blow up the central area and someone can silence the warlock immediately after. Then we strike."

You nodded slowly.

"That could certainly work. Shadowheart could cast a concealing spell on you for additional cover."

You beamed up at him and offered a cheeky wink.

"Thanks, Sugar Lips. We'll go with that. You're always the stealth expert."

Astarion raised an eyebrow at your epithet, but this time, he preened, his voice immediately lowering a few octaves.

"There's not much you can't accomplish with me at your side, my lovely - "

"Great idea, Astarion!" Halsin exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder, "Takes a ruby-eyed rapscallion like you to make this work."

"Can you all stop with those awful pet names?"

His glance flicked briefly, sly and seductive, in your direction. His waved a hand beckoningly, fingers dipping.

"Except for you. You can call me anything you want."

Well now. This was going in an unexpected direction. You hadn't thought he'd actually like the pet names coming from you.

Wylll cleared his throat.

"Oh, come on. We can't have favouritism like this. I say it's fair game for everyone if that's the case."

Astarion scowled across at him.

"Dont think I've forgotten about your thrice-damned Curly Pops. You're about to watch this aged body of mine show more flexibility than yours ever has once we infiltrate that camp."

"Is he in position?"

You glanced over the rock you were concealed behind and nodded.

"He's there."

"Right."

In order to keep the team compact and less likely to draw attention, you were accompanied by Lae'zel, Shadowheart and Wyll. Astarion was crouched in the foliage ahead, his enchanted cloak wrapped snug around him, a satchel full of smoke powder bombs strapped to his back.

You watched as he reached up and tugged the hood over his pale hair, blending even further into the darkness.

Shadowheart, kneeling beside him, waited for the right moment before placing her hand on his shoulder and casting her enchantment. You heard her low murmur.

"Blow them away, my heartless honeybear."

Astarion clicked his tongue in irritation before surging forward. Wyll stifled a snort.

"You think if we rile him up enough, he'll just take out most of the camp for us?"

Lae'zel hummed thoughtfully. You were surprised to see how seriously she was taking this endeavour.

"I'm going to kill the greatest number of enemies, of course, but ... let's put it to the test."

The crude outpost erected by the goblins showed no sign of disturbance in the silence before dawn. The sentries had stilled their pacing, and the fire was crackling and sparking as it slowly died down to embers.

None of your enemies noted the silent shadow that slipped past the perimeter, keeping to the greater darkness between the tents and carts. One of the wargs twitched, nostrils briefly flaring before its large head dropped back onto folded forelegs.

Something moved, close to the fire. A fuse was placed, a slow unspooling of flammable thread tracing back to where a faded backpack had been placed close to the cluster of tents. Nimble fingers cut the yarn loose, and Astarion made his way over to the cliff that overlooked the camp from the other side. 

He drew a mirror from his pocket, a small glare of faerie fire dancing across one fingertip, reflecting across to where the others were. That was the signal. A wicked smirk curved his lips.

Now this was what it was all about! He could hardly wait until -

A powerful ball of flame, most likely conjured by Wyll, flew from the foliage just outside the camp and burst upon the campfire. The sentries were startled into activity, growls, shouts and guttural curses of alarm spreading through their ranks.

The fire spell had done its work. The thread Astarion had laid down ignited, burning a visible line towards the tents. The smoke powder satchel went up in a glorious boom, a shower of cinders (and possibly goblin remains) scattering down over the camp.

Oh, an absolute beauty.

He drew his crossbow and loaded in a bolt, taking careful aim at the swarming shapes below. 

Maybe Tav would be more amenable to a congratulatory kiss once he got back to -

From behind the foliage, the voices of his companions carried across to his ears.

"What a blaze, you foxy firestarter!"

"Oh, he's amazing! My fluffy, bitey snow squirrel!"

Astarion's first bolt flew wide and he cursed under his breath.

Damn those annoying blood bags. He couldn't let them -

Loading another bolt with swift dexterity, his next shot struck true and a goblin keeled over.

"Take them down, you saucy studmuffin!"

"Show them the freak, vampy champ!"

Gods below, they were really getting on his last fucking nerve.

At this point, Lae'zel charged from the brush, her greatsword swinging down in a great arc. The goblins fell back under her onslaught, regrouping behind the carts.

Astarion's next bolt was an explosive one that struck a bag of chaff, briefly blinding the goblins crouched under cover. They stumbled away from the fine, choking filaments, coughing and gagging.

Lae'zel shouted in feral joy, spotting her targets immediately.

"Haha! That's it, Carrion Breath! Keep sending them my way!"

Was that supposed to be ... a compliment of some kind?

Feeling another surge of frustration, Astarion unsheathed his blade, muttering aggravatedly as he coated it with the most unpleasant, corrosive poison from his selection.

Maybe slicing something would ease his frayed nerves.

Leaping lightly down from the rocky ledge, he darted towards the goblin ranks, rapier striking out in quick succession. He moved fast, aiming to slash rather than stab. The poison would do the rest of the work.

The goblins screeched and flailed as smoke drifted upwards from the wounds he left in his wake.

"Who the fuck is this bastard?"

"Shoot him! Shoot her too!"

Lae'zel's eyes widened slightly when she saw that he'd entered the fray, her face streaked with blood. She grinned and licked her lips.

"Come to join me in glorious bloodshed for once?"

"I've always joined in," Astarion countered, flicking a stray curl from his forehead. "I suppose your face isn't the only thing remarkably like a goldfish."

"I'm not talking about skulking on the sidelines."

She grabbed his arm, ignoring his squawk as she dragged him aside and kicked a goblin into a burning bale of hay.

"Now fight, you blood sucking bitch queen!"

A ... what?

Astarion snarled, finesse forgotten as he stabbed right into a goblin archer's eye and wrenched his blade free.

"Care to repeat that?"

Shadowheart's blessing energy abruptly struck him in the backside, causing him to lurch slightly forward.

"A boost for you. Not that you need it, Saer Juicy Junk."

Now positively seething, Astarion whirled on his heel and let fly with first one dagger than another, each thudding home in goblin skulls.

One of the goblins popped her head around the side of a cart.

"Stop eggin' him on!"

Wyll countered a series of eldritch blasts from the warlock with a flourish. The silencing enchantment had evidently worn off.

"Egging him on? Who'd do a horrible thing like that?"

Tav's volley of arrows came sailing towards the tents, at the same moment that their summoned boar charged the barricade the warlock had been shielded behind.

Seeing an opportunity, Astarion leapt.

In its (comparitively) short life, the boar had certainly never expected to be mounted by an enraged vampire spawn. His fingers dug like icicles into its neck as he leaned forward, his cold hiss ghosting over its twitching ears.

"Charge them again, Porky, and I might not drain you dry the moment we get back to camp."

Squealing, the boar temporarily shied out of its true master's command, leaping towards the goblin warlock and his warriors.

Tusks swayed from side to side like a deadly thresher as it bore down on them, ignoring the screams and the stab of polearms.

From its back, Astarion yelled in uncharacteristic martial fervour as he balanced like a trapeze artist on a ship in a storm, his daggers flashing as he took down the remaining bodyguard. The warlock was reduced to something ...  unmentionable beneath the rampaging hooves of his 'noble' steed.

Completing a full turn, he brought the boar back to heel, finding that the camp had now been completely obliterated. Astarion's nostrils flared as he slipped from the boar's back, stalking over to the others.

"Would someone care to tell me what that was all about?"

Shadowheart was examining her fingernails while Wyll looked the picture of gentlemanly innocence.

"What are you talking about?"

"That. The ... the name-calling."

"We weren't name-calling! Every word was said in complete admiration for your ... considerable charm and skill."

Tav had emerged from cover, approaching and dispelling the boar summon with a slightly sheepish smile.

"Well, Astarion, I certainly wasn't expecting you to ... respond quite like that."

He huffed and folded his arms, nose wrinkling in displeasure.

"So you were in on it too?"

Tav straightened, and Astarion saw a faint flush steal over the bridge of their nose as their glance slid away from him.

"I admit it. Yes. But ... for the record ... you're quite dashing when you're so riled up."

For all his years of seduction and false wiles, Astarion could have sworn that his non-functioning heart skipped a beat.

Damn Tav and their sweet little ...

He ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to restore some order to the disarray his mad charge had effected.

"I suppose there has been an aim to all of this ... tomfoolery?"

Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

"You mean the point escaped you? That we'd all appreciate less of your mocking little nicknames?"

He growled and flicked his sword, removing the excess blood that was now in danger of congealing there.

"Oh, silly me, for thinking that people had regular conversations where they communicate their needs nowadays. Probably comes from being an aged Curly Pops like - "

Wyll groaned.

"Is that really the one that got to you the most?"

Astarion chose dignified silence for once, brushing past them and heading back up to the clifftop camp.

As he passed Tav, they leaned towards him and lowered their voice.

"If you want to know, the one I came up with was 'Sanguine Savant'. I think it's quite fitting."

He humphed and stuck his nose in the air, but he was sure that Tav could sense the small, irrepressible smile that etched itself on his lips a moment later.

Taglist: @radish-breath @roguishcat @fantasyheroine @davenswitcher @alwaysmauria @dseerie @dramatiquechipmunk

[gallusrostromegalus]

You mentioned once that Mai Valentine likes her sweets boozy and also you had a bunch of other preferred flavor profiles for TPOFATGIF. Any chance of something similar for AEIWAM?

I know Kubo made canon notes on everyone's favorite and least favorite foods, but this is for the AEIWAM versions of the characters. Here's much of the cast's food preferences, as characterization practice:

Ichigo:

As much as he gets teased for it and his name, Ichigo loves him some fruit. He will inhale any fruit or juice left unattended within arm's reach of him in seconds. Melons, berries, pineapple, pears, guava- he does not care. There is fruit, it's going in him. Isshin is pleased his son likes healthy snacks but sometimes the grocery bill can get alarming. Ichigo's least favorite food is anything with capsaicin in it- being a ginger means he's unusually pain-sensitive and with an equally touchy tummy. It burns on both ends and all the way through the middle too.

Orihime:

Tatsuki likes to joke that the gods were drunk when they made Orihime, and they put her taste buds in backwards. Truth is, Orihime is a sensation-seeking kind of autistic girl and loves novel flavors more than anything else. She read "salt, fat, acid, heat" and took it's advice very literally, so you end up with things like "cream (fat) of tuna (salt) balsamic vinegar (acid) sriracha (heat) casserole" . The only thing Orihime really dislikes is foods she's gotten bored of.

Chad:

Beef. The boy needs beef. Chad spent his early adolescence on his Grandfather's Cattle Ranch in Mexico, allowed to eat as much red meat as he wanted and his physique shows it. Now he's back in Japan where it's prohibitively expensive and he is DYING. Please. He is a large carnivore. He can't live like this. Chad's least favorite food is ironically, his most reliable source of red meat: the fast food burger. It's not the same. It mocks him.

(More Karakura Gang and Some Captains under the cut)

Uryuu:

Uryuu is the son of a doctor and a little weirdo in his own right and he will assemble a baked potato or disassemble a slice of pizza with surgical precision. He just sort of likes customizing his food before he eats it. Hence, his least favorite foods are things where all the ingredients are mixed together and inseparable, like stews and casserole.

Tatsuki:

Tatsuki is a hot wings afficionado- she likes all the flavors, because there's a lot of really nice flavor interactions in the milder sauces, but also, the hotter the better. She once entered a hot wings eating contest in middle school where every round was hotter than the last and sailed easily into the "scorpion death pepper" round before being declared the winner, much to her disappointment. She was still hungry, and those were a 5/10 at most for her. Tatsuki's least favorite food with anything with even a hint of clams or other mollusc shellfish in it. She hasn't been diagnosed with an allergy, but given her extreme aversion to shellfish, she's not going to press her luck.

Keigo:

Keigo lives on a rancid diet of junk food, novelty soda, and instant ramen and likes it that way, thank you. Ichigo periodically makes him eat an apple at sword point to get some kind of fiber and vitamin into him. Keigo's least favorite food is anywhere can't cook in a microwave, and all vegetables.

Mizuiro:

Mizuiro is way too vain about his skin and hair to live on Keigo's garbage raccoon diet, but he can't cook to save his life. His favorite foods are multivitamins and everything he can get delivered, and his least favorite is anything deep-fried and greasy

Rukia:

Rukia was raised in fantasy medieval Japan, but is a "I'll try anything once!" Girl and this has lead to her favorite food being Oregano. Favorite condiment. Puts it on everything, even ice cream. Once things calm down a little when she returns to soul society, she gets Orihime to send her a "care package" of assorted spices, snacks and modern "puzzle" foods (juice boxes and ramune) to show to Byakuya, who starts inviting friends and coworkers over to try these things too, and the resulting video makes Ichigo laugh hard enough to rip out a few of his stitches. Rukia's least favorite food is jellybeans, because she can never remember the flavors and keeps putting bad combinations of them in her mouth.

Renji:

Like Chad, Renji needs his fucking protein, and sure loves him some beef, but he's also got that ADHD Hyperfocus going on and regularly forgets to eat so while he's not specifically partial to the flavors, his favorite food in terms of 'keeping him alive and hale' is nutritional protein shakes. Like Ichigo, Renji is also partial to fresh fruits and has the spice tolerance of a recipe blogger from Kansas, but he does have an extremely strong aversion to Bananas that he refuses to explain.

Byakuya:

Byakuya is a sensation-avoidant autist who has had his aversions largely ignored in favor of "you need to uphold the clan honor by being POLITE at this dinner and EATING WHAT YOU ARE SERVED, you can throw up in private later", so his regular diet is quite mild and limited, which moderately terrified Unohana (she IS partially responsible for keeping him alive). A chance encounter with Zaraki Kenpachi accidentally saved the Kuchiki line because he introduced a New Food to Byakuya by being normal about it, and now Byakuya loves BEANS. All of them. Red, Black, Soy, Kidney, Mung, Great Northern, Purple String, Adzuki, Anasazi, Edamame, Pinto, Pole, Striped, Yard, Garbanzo and Navy. Peas too- English, snap, snow, lentil, black-eyed and split. Paired with already-acceptable rice, this makes his limited diet startlingly nutritionally complete and high in fiber. He'll never eat squid or octopus again if he can help it though.

Kenpachi:

AEIWAM Zaraki Kenpachi was raised by eagles and it shows through in weird places, like how he insists on eating poultry and fish bones like his mother taught him to. In fact, the bones from deep-fried chicken are his favorite, and he will help himself to the bones other people don't want. He has a cast iron stomach that rarely gets upset and a notable sweet tooth, but is extremely picky about texture. This surprises some people who think that living as a beggar for a few centuries means he'd eat anything, and comes as no surprise to anyone who HAS been that destitute- an off texture is often your only warning before a potentially lethal case of food poisoning. Hence, Kenpachi's least favorite foods are anything "slimy", which puts him off many sauces and seaweed-based dishes.

Yachiru:

AEIWAM Zaraki is significantly more amiable and cunning than his canon counterpart because, realistically, he had to keep Yachiru fed. No village will let a random murder-hobo in to eat, especially if he's broke, so Zaraki got exceptionally good at ingratiating himself with strangers and getting hired at odd jobs in a hurry. This was an extremely sharp learning curve because he found Yachiru when she was an infant and not yet weaned, and he had to go to some fairly extreme measures to get milk for her. It's a point of pride for him that his little girl has never gone to bed hungry, even if he did. Yachiru is very aware of the fact she has historically eaten better than her father, despite his best efforts to disguise it, so her favorite foods are anything she can share with him- bags of small candies or chips or other snacks she can divy up and insist he eat too. She gave Zaraki his sweet tooth sharing candy like this, but anything she can share while eating is a favorite. Her least favorite is boiled vegetables. There is nothing that can make boiled broccoli worth eating.

Unohana:

Retsu Unohana has severe ADHD and makes food choices based first on the dopamine reward she gets from eating them, and the medical knowledge of "you need vitamins and fiber too, bitch" second. She would live on high-octane coffee with an excessive amount of sugar and cream if it were nutritionally complete, but alas. She does have a notes fondness for organ meats like liver, kidneys and lungs because they taste "richer" to her, and the novelty appeals as well. However, she has seen the horrors of what The Wrong Mushroom will do to a human body up close far too many times, and it's put her off eating fungi entirely. She'll eat her own hand before she'll eat a mushroom.

Komamura:

Food is both a joyful and distressing experience for Sajin. Joyful, because his exceptionally sensitive sense of smell and taste means he gets to experience layers to even the most simple foods that humans can't even begin to comprehend. Distressing, because humans have a very weak sense of taste and over-season their food accordingly, often with poisons. A lot of the reason he started wearing a helmet was less about fear that humans would attack him for being a wolf man, or that he would inspire undue fear in others, and more that he has a hard time saying "No" to people, who keep unwittingly offering him food full of toxic onions or worse, grapes. The helmet was not easily removed, and kept the dangerous gifts at bay. Fortunately, modern humans are more aware of things that will poison him and more willing to make accommodations on his behalf. Still, his least favorite food is Raisins, which keep being added to otherwise perfectly good dishes, like someone deciding to sprinkle a bit of Water Hemlock in their tacos. He still keeps the Occasional "Carnivore Outing" he and Zaraki take to the distant mountains to celebrate their shared cultural heritage a secret though, because he's not sure most of his friends and colleagues are ready to learn that his favorite food is "Elk bone marrow, either still hot from the kill or after it's been buried in dirt for a week", but at least these days he has Zaraki "You know how it is with Liver and Eagles" Kenpachi to commiserate and split the carcass with.

Tousen:

Kaname did his required tour of duty in the living world in Oaxaca, Mexico and while he was there he developed a taste for Chapulines, or fried grasshoppers. He didn't mention this delicacy when he returned to soul society, not out of fear that people would think he was a freak- his coworkers already largely did, either because of his blindness or his Blackness, if not both- but because one of the few coworkers who he genuinely liked and got along with was Lieutenant Mashiro, whose favorite animal is Grasshoppers. His least favorite food is any alcoholic beverage or boozy dessert, because the one time he tried drinking with some friends from Shinigami academy, he developed a case of the spins just two drinks in and immediately became completely disoriented and couldn't right himself, and quickly became too nauseous and panicked to speak. His friends were having a GREAT time and thought Kaname was doing his usual wallflower nonsense until Liza Yadomaru finally realized something was amiss and she and Love Aikawa ended up taking him on a drunken sprint to the emergency room. He got better by morning but now even the smell of alcohol makes him feel sick again.

[koenigami]

synopsis: that one time you accidentally lost ushijima in a mall on christmas. tags: fem!reader, fluff a/n: helloww sweet @ohtokki, your secret santa here! wishing you a wonderful time with your family and friends!<33 i really hope you like this little something i wrote for you and ushiwaka^^ it's actually my first time writing for him so i hope it's not too ooc ehe..

Like in a crammed can of sardines, people tried to navigate through the crowded streets and stores. Some of them looked for last minute gifts while others enjoyed the mesmerising decorations and lights ornamenting the city that seemed even brighter and more vivid once dusk fell. Watching some of the people rush down the halls of the mall you were currently strolling through, arms packed with packages and bags, wide and frantic eyes glancing from one shop window to another, you were more than relieved that Ushijima and you belonged to the second category of people.

“Wow, good thing we bought everything at - " Losing a nearly 6’4 tall boyfriend was hard. "Toshi?" But not impossible.

Especially in a crowded place like this one. With a deep sigh, you looked around, hopefully trying to spot Ushijima somewhere in your proximity though apparently it was not going to be that simple. A young man accidentally bumped into you. The pink gift bag he was carrying slipped out of his hand, though with a hectic hand gesture he managed to grasp it before it touched the floor. “I’m so sorry, Miss!” The teenager blushed and quickly bowed his head before scurrying off. 

Meanwhile somewhere in the same mall, Ushijima paced from one shop entrance to another, curiously peeking over other customers’ heads, shoulders slumping every time he did not spot you. The “E” in the corner of his phone display mocked him when he pulled it out of the pocket of his jacket, and it seemed like no store nearby offered free wifi for him to at least send you a quick message.

Of course he could have anticipated that the shopping centre would be this packed today, though when you had asked him to accompany you to get your favourite dessert from the patisserie that was supposed to be somewhere around here, Ushijima had not been able to decline. 

A soft tug on his pants pulled his attention away from his phone, and instead of a bright screen, he was gazing into big, teary eyes as a little girl shyly stared up at him, her height barely reaching up to his thigh. “Um, you’re ‘Shijima-san, right?” Had he not crouched down to her height, he would have probably not even been able to hear her question over the loud Christmas music that all of a sudden started playing in the background. 

“Yes.” He nodded, somehow not finding it in him to correct her mispronunciation of his name, and instead patiently waited for her to continue. “My Nii-chan always says you’re the coolest so- uh, will you help me find him and mommy?” There was a light shake in her small, gloved hands as she played with one of her dark pigtails, the glittery red bows in them sparkling with every movement of her head. 

A curt nod of his was enough to make the little girl smile as if he had just now shown her the entire world, and once he picked her up like she weighed nothing to place her on his shoulders, he indeed did show her an entirely different kind of world. Ushijima’s hands swallowed her much smaller ones, making sure that she was safely positioned and holding on tight. So this is what a giant’s view looks like, she thought, completely in awe about how she could truly see everything and everyone from up there. 

“Where was the last time you have been with your mom and brother?” He inquired and looked around for… not exactly sure who. A panicked looking mother? A similarly frantic looking boy? While at the same time trying to catch a glimpse of you amidst the people moving past him. 

“We wanted to buy cupcakes!” Her little legs dangled excitedly down the volleyball player’s borad shoulders while she explained that her mom was planning to buy mentioned cupcakes for her fourth birthday. “But then poof! Nii-chan and mommy were gone.” She gestured with her hands as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Poof, huh? Sounded pretty familiar to him when he thought about how you were one minute walking right beside him and the next- 

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Ushijima carefully fished it out with one hand while the other made sure the girl on his shoulders would not fall over. 

“Hello? Toshi, where are you?” The sound of your voice eased the tension in his shoulders and he did not dare to budge from the spot that, thank god, provided him with some decent signal. 

The little girl on his shoulders involuntarily eavesdropped on the giant’s conversation since, with whoever he was talking to, the small gentle smile on his face made it obvious that talking to them made him clearly happy. 

“I’m on my way to the patisserie. There’s this girl I just met and she-” 

“But we have just been there? And what girl?” It was not a rare occurrence for Ushijima to get held up by fans, yet right now you really just wanted to get home as soon as possible. The crowded space and your missing boyfriend were slowly but surely getting to you and tiring you out so much that you could not help but sound a little snappy over the phone. Whatever fangirl he was dealing right now, he better- 

“Love, she’s four.” 

"Huh?" Oh. 

You loosened the woollen scarf around your neck once you heard your boyfriend’s breathy chuckle on the other end of the line, a light heat creeping up your neck out of sheer embarrassment. Manoeuvring your way through the slowly dissipating crowd, you listened attentively to Ushijima as he explained the little girl’s predicament as well as his current location to you. Since it seemed that you were not too far away from them, you agreed on meeting them at a flower shop in front of which they were currently standing.

“Was that your girlfriend?” The little girl asked curiously once Ushijima hung up, both his hands now securely resting back on her thighs. “Did she also get lost?” 

“You could say it like that. But she’ll get here soon and then we will go to look for your family together, alright?” 

“Yes! Thank you, Shijima-san!” She exclaimed gratefully, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug that made his heart swell. Remembering that she was now even taller than the giant himself, she figured that she could help him too find someone dear to him.  “So, what does she look like?” 

“Hm? Well, she’s wearing a long coat, a thick white scarf, she has long brown-” 

“Is she pretty?” 

Ushijima was a little taken aback by her question, since she made it sound as if an answer to it would be more helpful to pinpoint you than a detailed description of your appearance. Yet with a deep sigh and significant warmth in his eyes, he answered truthfully. “Yes, very so.” 

And somehow, as if satisfied with his answer, the little girl quietly looked ahead of herself and rested her chin on top of his head. With each passing minute, the mall got emptier, customers wrapped up their purchases before leaving, cash registers in certain shops looked less busy, and even an employee who was wearing a santa costume looked like he had finished his shift as he walked past Ushijima, waving kindly at the girl who happily reciprocated the gesture. 

“There!” The girl suddenly perked up after noticing a young woman hurry towards them with a fond smile on her face. 

And how could you not smile when the sight of your lover with such a sweet looking young girl perched on top of his shoulders was so endearing to you. You approached them finally and reached up to greet the girl with a light squeeze to her calf. 

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable over there. What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

“Chiyo!” She answered with a bright toothy grin before she fervently started to tell you about how she had gotten lost and found "Shijima-san".

Eventually, you made yourself on the way to the patisserie where you hoped to find Chiyo’s mother and brother, since it was the only place where you could get fresh pastries at this time of the day. By the way she clung to Ushijima, you could tell that she had warmed up to him pretty fast, and the same could be said about him. He looked so effortlessly handsome as he carried the child in a way that you would think he had never done anything else in his life. In a way that made you wonder what it would be like to have your own little gremlin sit on top of him and call him a “giant”. 

Warmth suddenly engulfed your left hand, and his rare physical display of affection astonished you a slightest bit. But as he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking the back of it back and forth, he simply stated matter-of-factly. 

“Don’t want to lose you again.” 

Right, Mr. Shijima, you thought knowingly. Admitting that your short lived disappearance had made him feel uncomfortable and that going through the same dilemma would probably make him age a few months more- that was definitely not something he was going to admit today. 

However, when he had to put Chiyo back down and watch her run over to her Nii-chan, who coincidentally was the same young man who had earlier bumped into you, Ushijima had to admit that he was a little dejected about the fact that his adventure with the little girl was over so soon.    

[gorgon-goddess-of-chaos]

Gift Box

I truly adore writing Bing, he's such a pure man.

Bingiplier x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 563

“Yo, like, what’s in this box?”

“You’ll see.”

Bing studies the box that rests in his hands, looking at you questioningly. It’s a soft orange with a shiny white bow tying it together, calling to him as a tantalizing surprise waits inside for him. But he doesn’t wish to ruin the surprise and joy that you’ll get from seeing his reaction. He sits down, resting his head on his arms as he stares at the box, trying to figure out what could fit inside. 

Could it be a puppy? No it’d move a lot more, and there’d probably be holes in the top.

Is it a toaster? Maybe, but he doesn’t have much use for a toaster other than using it for parts.

Maybe a bouquet of flowers? No, it’s far too small for that, unless you found a bouquet made for mice. And a mouse, he is not. 

When you step back into the room and witness him studying the box, you can’t help but smile at him softly. You walk up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder before moving it up his neck to ruffle his hair.

“Getting impatient?”

“It feels like I’m a kid on Christmas! It’s killing me to know what’s inside!”

“I promise you’ll get to have it, after dinner.”

Bing pouts up at you, but you simply meet his jutted lip with a kiss. He snakes his arms around your waist, holding you captive until you meet his kiss quota and he lets you go. He occupies himself with some minor repairs on his arms, improving the mobility of his fingers and fixing the circulation of fluids to his joints. But that box remains in the forefront of his mind, mocking him from across the table. You glance over at him from the kitchen as you prep the food for yourself and pour him some motor oil, proud of him for staying patient.

Yesterday he had gifted you a necklace with two interlocking gears on it, with your names engraved on them. Forever together, hanging around your neck. His eyes move to your neck on occasion, brightening when he notices you’re wearing his gift to you. 

You sit down at the table with your dinner and chat about your days, but you can tell he’s itching for you to get done with your food so he can open his gift. You sigh, shaking your head as you push the box towards him.

“Go ahead and open, baby.”

His eyes light up and his cheeks glow a more vibrant hue of orange, dragging the package closer to him. He goes to untie the bow, but somehow ends up entangling his hands together instead. You assist him with freeing him from his silky binds, wrapping it up in your hands as he lifts the lid.

Inside is a pair of custom sunglasses, with suns rays that glint in a metallic gold, and a message written on the inner part of the temples.

“I will love you for as long as the sun shines.”

His face softens as his blush spreads across his cheeks, taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and setting his new ones in their place. He walks around to hug you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“When I have you for the rest of forever? Absolutely.”

[stonesense]

“And with what wit has my cousin silenced so sweet a voice?” Celene asked into the expectant silence.

Melcendre paused, uncomfortable, but Gaspard dipped his head, a bow just barely sufficient to avoid undeniable insult. “Your Imperial Majesty,” he said, still chuckling, “I was pointing out that the young lady’s song had a melody similar to ‘King Meghren’s Mabari.’”

The assembled nobles tittered, scandalously amused. Celene kept her smile in place. It was a good first strike. The song had been popular and harmless decades ago, during the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden. It told the story of the unhappy Meghren, sent against his will to Ferelden by Emperor Florian. In the song, the hapless noble was comically frustrated at every turn by rough Fereldan culture, including a slobbering mabari hound that ate his mask.

While never forbidden, the song had lost its popularity after King Maric of Ferelden killed Meghren. Since coming to power, Celene had done her best to strengthen ties between the two countries, and the song mocking the crude Fereldans and their uncultured customs had never come back into fashion.

Until now, it seemed.

“I remember singing this with the men during marches,” Gaspard said. “It took us back to the days when Orlais stood poised to conquer the world. Poor Meghren, trapped far from the Maker’s gaze, trying to make himself at home among the dog-lords.” He was a tall man, broad in shoulder, and his doublet and hose were cut with hard lines and silver trim to give the impres- sion of armor. His mask was gold, set with emeralds to match his family’s heraldry, and a tall yellow feather sprouted from the mask—like Ser Michel, he was a member of the chevaliers.

He was also standing not ten paces from Bann Teagan Guerrin, the Fereldan ambassador. The man’s face, bare of makeup, clearly showed his anger at hearing his people called “dog-lords.”

“It was a sad time for all of us,” Celene said, turning to the ambassador with a smile, “and Orlais is pleased to count Ferelden as a friend in these trying times.”

Teagan smiled gratefully and bowed. “Your Imperial Majesty, Ferelden hopes the same.”

“Of course.” Gaspard strode forward. “What’s past is past, eh, Teagan? And now we’re just two old warriors.” He clapped the Fereldan on the shoulder, and Bann Teagan stiffened at the familiarity.

“Did you bring your dog with you to Orlais, my lord?” Melcendre added, the dark-haired bard the very picture of innocence, even as the crowd chuckled.

Teagan turned to her, fists clenched at his sides. “Yes, though not to this ball. I doubt he’d appreciate the food.”

That got a laugh from the crowd. While not a master of the Game, the Fereldan noble was smart enough to see when he was being set up and to try to get the crowd on his side.

“Someday I’ll have to see your dog, Teagan,” Gaspard said, not to be distracted from his play. “But tonight, in celebration of the friendship between our empire and your, ah, kingdom, I brought something for you.” He snapped his fingers, and a servant rushed up carrying a long bundle wrapped in rich green velvet.

Gaspard took the package and handed it to Teagan with a wide smile. Reluctantly, knowing he was stepping into a trap but unable to find a way to avoid doing so, the ambassador unwrapped the package.

Inside, as Briala had informed Celene earlier in the afternoon, was a sword. It was Fereldan in make, largely functional but with a few hints of ornamentation around the hilt and cross guard to suggest that it was the fighting blade of a noble. It was worse for wear, with nicks along the blade and a few spots of rust.

“Grand Duke Gaspard!” Michel moved to put himself between Celene and the sword. The weapon should never have made it into the hall—guards at the palace entrance checked all packages to prevent an assassin from bringing a weapon inside. Which was, Celene reflected, why Gaspard had gone to so much trouble to get the package smuggled in and hidden in the hedge maze earlier that day.

“At ease, chevalier.” Gaspard eyed the blade. “I’d as soon come at someone with a fireplace poker as I would wield that thing.” He nodded to Bann Teagan. “It was taken off the body of some Fereldan noblewoman who got caught making trouble for poor Meghren. Moira, I believe.” Behind his gold and green mask, his eyes twinkled with good humor. “Our servants had been using it to kill rats in the cellars.”

Teagan had gone still, looking at the sword in his hands as though the rest of the court had vanished. The green velvet bunched around his white-knuckled fists.

“That was a noble’s sword?” Melcendre asked, adding just the right touch of doubt to lure the crowd into laughing at the battered blade and drive Teagan further toward saying something that Gaspard could construe as an insult.

i don’t know how many of you have read the masked empire but to me it’s the only depiction of orlesians that really hits and i did mean to share this bit when i read it bc i actually gasped. for the unfamiliar, moira theirin is maric’s mother and thus cailan and alistair’s grandmother, she was ferelden’s rebel queen under the orlesian occupation. she was murdered by orlesians when a fereldan bann betrayed her to them and her head was put on a spike in denerim

[flowers-and-dndoc]

Timerogue Flower Shop AU

“Ruby, can you get me a vase?” John called out as he heard the door chime, assuming it was his young assistant clocking in for the day. “I’m in the back.” When no reply came from the front room, he sighed, and carefully set down the bouquet of flowers he was arranging and walked to the front.

“Come on, Ruby, you know I don’t mind when you get in late, but you can’t just-“ he cut himself off as he rounded the corner and saw that the person standing in the doorway wasn’t his blonde assistant, but a stranger. And not just any stranger - the most gorgeous stranger he’d ever seen: a tall man with broad shoulders, an adorable mop of curly brown hair, and the softest blue eyes John had ever seen in his life. He was wearing a thick blue hoodie and sweatpants that hid most of his form, but something about the way he stood hinted at a rock-solid build underneath the fabric. John had to stop himself from staring.

“Sorry, I thought you were my assistant,” he said, frantically trying to pull himself together and fix a smile on his face. “I’m John, the owner. What can I do for you?”

“I uh…I need to order some flowers,” the stranger said, twisting his hands behind his back. He looked around the small shop as if hoping answers would spring from the flowers lining the walls.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place for that,” John said, grinning a bit more naturally now. The stranger offered him a strained smile in return. “Come on over to the register, and I can help you with that.” He turned around, leading the man past the towering displays of flowers to the small counter tucked in the back corner.

“First things first,” John said, “can I get a name for the order?” Normally, this wouldn’t have actually been the first thing he’d ask, but he didn’t think he could be blamed for wanting to find out this man’s name.

“Put it under ‘Rogue,’” the stranger said. John raised an eyebrow.

“Rogue?” He asked. The stranger looked weary.

“Yes, it’s my real surname,” he said, with the air of a man who’d given the same explanation far too many times. John raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fair enough, Rogue,” he said, giving the man his most charming smile. “So what brings you into the store today? What kind of flower order are you looking to place?” The man seems to freeze, and a stricken look flashes across his face.

“I, uh, need to order flowers for a funeral. My boyfriend’s funeral,” he said, staring down hard at the counter. John froze, his grin sliding off his face. Shit. That’s what he got for flirting with a customer.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” John said softly. The man - Rogue - grimaced, as though he’s heard this line a million times already.

“Thanks,” he said through his teeth. John winced, feeling like he said the wrong thing.

“Um, so, do you know what type of arrangements you’re looking for? We have a few different packages for funerals,” he said, gamely trying to pull the conversation back on track. The panicked look instantly appeared back in Rogue’s eyes.

“Packages…?” he asked, as though he’d never heard of such a thing. Here, at least, John was on more familiar ground - it was shockingly common for people to wander into a flower shop without any idea of what they actually were looking for beyond ‘flowers, I suppose.’ Funerals weren’t something he frequently worked on, but he did them just often enough to be prepared.

“If you’re just looking for something small, we have single bouquets available,” John said as he pulled a binder from under the counter, rotated it so it was facing Rogue, and flipped it open to its second page. “These I can customize with any type of flower I carry - if you’re looking for something more specialized, I can also potentially order that for you depending on how soon you’re placing the order for. Our next step up from there would be packages that contain a combination of a couple baskets, sprays, or wreaths - those pieces will be individually larger and work well if you’re looking for a couple focal pieces for a funeral, but you’ll have flowers from other sources as well. We have a pretty wide range of these packages in terms of size and price. Our biggest packages will contain some of the above and also casket sprays - those are larger arrangements that can sit on a casket.” He could see Rogue’s eyes start to glaze over as he rattled off information, and realized he needed to break it down more.

“Is it a small funeral or a large one?” he asked. Rogue looked grateful for an easier to answer question.

“Large,” he said. “Art…he was the outgoing one of the two of us. There’s a lot of people who will miss him.” John nods.

“Okay - have you set up anything for other people to send in arrangements? Or will you be providing all the flowers?” John asked, trying his best to keep his tone even. Rogue swallowed nervously.

“I uh, I hadn’t set anything up - should I have?” he said as he tapped his fingers anxiously against the counter. John smiled reassuringly.

“That’s perfectly all right - many people prefer to just order the flowers themselves. Can I ask what your budget is? Some of our larger arrangements can unfortunately get pretty expensive,” he said.

“I- I just want to make this as beautiful as I can for him. It’s what he deserves.” Rogue said, and John thinks he can start to see a sheen of tears form in his eyes.

“Of course,” John said, and began to walk him through the details of some of the larger arrangements.

[sarkariresultdude]

"How to Become an SBI Probationary Officer: Eligibility, Exam, Salary & More"

 The State Bank of India Probationary Officer (SBI PO) submit is one of the maximum sought-after and prestigious jobs inside the Indian banking area. Every year, lakhs of applicants appear for this aggressive exam, desiring to stable a stable and profitable authorities job. The SBI PO role no longer only offers a good-looking salary and severa perks however also gives an opportunity for expert boom and leadership within the united states of america’s biggest public-area bank.

SBI PO exam

Introduction to SBI PO

 After choice, candidates undergo rigorous training and probation. As India's biggest bank, SBI operates a sizeable network of branches and ATMs, and a PO can be posted in urban or rural regions, relying on the want.

Eligibility Criteria

Before making use of for the SBI PO exam, candidates should ensure they meet the eligibility standards. The basic requirements are:

Nationality: Indian citizen.

Final-yr graduation college students also can apply, provided they produce proof of commencement at the time of the interview.

Roles and Responsibilities of an SBI PO

The SBI PO is a surprisingly responsible and dynamic role. The key duties include:

Customer Service: Addressing patron queries, court cases, and helping with banking offerings.

Business Development: Promoting financial institution products like loans, deposits, and insurance.

Cash Management: Overseeing day by day coins transactions, preserving facts, and ensuring accuracy.

Loan Processing: Evaluating mortgage applications, engaging in hazard analysis, and documentation.

Supervisory Role: Managing clerical group of workers, making sure operational efficiency, and reporting to senior officers.

Audit and Compliance: Ensuring adherence to banking norms, guidelines, and inner audits.

After the probation length, a PO may also be assigned roles like branch manager, credit score officer, or relationship supervisor, relying on overall performance.

Salary and Perks

The SBI PO activity comes with an appealing profits package. As in keeping with the contemporary facts:

Basic Pay: ₹forty one,960

Gross Salary: ₹65,000 to ₹70,000/month (approx., varies with area)

Additional Perks:

Dearness Allowance (DA)

House Rent Allowance (HRA)

City Compensatory Allowance (CCA)

Provident Fund

Medical Facilities

Contributory Pension Scheme

Petrol and Travel Allowance

Furniture Allowance

Newspaper and Book Grant

Leave Encashment

Moreover, SBI POs are entitled to home loans and automobile loans at sponsored hobby quotes.

Career Growth Opportunities

SBI offers great career progression. A PO can upward push thru inner tests and performance-primarily based promotions. The normal profession direction includes:

Assistant Manager

Deputy Manager

Manager

Chief Manager

Assistant General Manager

Deputy General Manager

General Manager

Chief General Manager

Managing Director

Chairman (top role viable through long-time period progression)

With difficult paintings and determination, a PO can even attain the pinnacle executive roles in SBI or get deputed to global places of work.

Preparation Tips for SBI PO Exam

Cracking the SBI PO exam requires a properly-dependent practise strategy. Here are some recommendations:

1. Understand the Syllabus and Pattern

Familiarize your self with the present day syllabus and examination pattern. Focus on sections like reasoning, aptitude, and English comprehension.

2. Time Management

Practice mock exams and former years’ papers to enhance speed and accuracy. Use timers to replicate real examination conditions.

Three. Strengthen Weak Areas

Identify vulnerable topics and dedicate greater time to enhancing them. Join on-line training or coaching if wished.

4. Read Daily

Develop the habit of studying newspapers like The Hindu or Economic Times to live up to date with modern-day affairs and improve vocabulary.

5. Practice Descriptive Writing

For the mains, practice essay and letter writing regularly to attain nicely in the descriptive segment.

6. Group Discussion and Interview Practice

Work on conversation and interpersonal abilties. Participate in mock interviews and organization discussions to build self belief.

Why Choose SBI PO as a Career?

1. Job Security and Stability

Being a government job, SBI PO gives lifelong process security with regular profits and retirement advantages.

2. Growth and Recognition

SBI encourages benefit-based promotions. There is extensive scope to climb the corporate ladder quick.

Three. Work-Life Balance

Although annoying at instances, SBI gives ample go away alternatives, a 5-day work week for officials, and aid for paintings-existence stability.

Four. National and International Exposure

Being a global financial institution, SBI has operations across nations. Officers may be published overseas or deputed to global banking assignments.

SBI PO Selection Process

The choice procedure for SBI PO is conducted in 3 principal stages:

1. Preliminary Examination

This is a web goal-kind check comprising three sections:

English Language

Quantitative Aptitude

Reasoning Ability

It serves as a screening test.

2. Main Examination

Candidates who clear the prelims seem for the mains, which includes each objective and descriptive tests:

Objective Test (2 hundred marks):

Reasoning and Computer Aptitude

Data Analysis and Interpretation

General/Economy/Banking Awareness

English Language

Descriptive Test (50 marks):

Essay and Letter Writing in English

three. Group Discussion and Interview

Shortlisted candidates from the mains are called for a Group Exercise (20 marks) and Personal Interview (30 marks). Final selection is based at the cumulative score of the mains and the interview.

[rockstar-roxie]

Pelipper mail! Two packages appear! One is wrapped in a thick pink ribbon and has a tag reading "To: Roxie" in neat, angular handwriting. The second is smaller and sports wrapping paper patterned with Galarian Weezings and a tag reading "Roxie" in light, flowing handwriting.

The first box contains multiple objects. The first is a choker in dark purple and yellow, studded with paler purple spikes like the bumps around a Toxtricity's wrists. The next is a small plush toy Toxel, the electricity on its head being made of a shiny material the crinkles when rubbed and the rest being deceptively soft to the touch for its looks. The box also contains a mixed bundle of fresh berries- multiple Shuca berries, Pecha berries, and Cherri berries tied together with their own pink ribbon. At the very bottom of the box is a plastic sleeve containing what seems to be a piece of cardboard. Removing it from the protective sleeve reveals a fairly convincing mock league card- it uses a picture of Roxie onstage at her tour's Ballonlea performance, lit up by spotlights and belting lyrics. It sports the Galar league's poison type style border, a large number "157" in the corner, and an iridescent foil finish. On the back of the card are small graphics portraying the team of pokemon she listed to Bede earlier- Amoonguss, Garbodor, Seviper, Drapion, Crobat, and Scolipede- as well as a large picture of a Toxic Badge. At the top is a small blurb: "Roxie, esteemed Gym Leader of Virbank City Gym in Unova. A poison type trainer, fierce battler, and interregionally renowned musician." It seems Bede hasn't exactly gotten the hang of the flowery and sensationalized descriptions on official league cards. On top of the box is a card, sporting Bede's signature. The lines are straight and neat, although it looks like they've been erased and redone multiple times in an attempt to make them perfect. The card reads "I seem to remember you expressing a desire for a 'cool custom card' in the past. I expect this will suffice, but if not, I've no doubt that you'll find the other gifts suitable in their own right~"

the second box is much smaller, and only contains one item: A pair of large earrings. they depict two Koffings made out of polymer clay dangling from silver chains. The earrings come with a note in flowy cursive: "Ms. Roxie, I was delighted to hear that Bede had decided to invite you over for our Delibird Day festivities. I meant to bring up the idea to him myself, you know, but he set his mind on it before I even had the chance to. I do appreciate you offering that boy your friendship... I like to think you've got him slipping out of his Torkoal shell more and more by the day. Enclosed you'll find some of my old earrings. now, I hope you don't mind getting some old woman's hand-me-downs, but I think they've about run their course with me, and they just cried out to me that they'd like to be with you. I do hope that they'll serve you well, and that you'll continue being so refreshingly, unapologetically 'you' in the new year to come. The world needs more trainers like you... and not just poison type trainers made my job so much more interesting, hm-hm! Best regards, Ms. Opal"

@ballonleastadiumofficial

(*A wide grin adorns Roxie's face as they accept the two packages and excitedly plop onto the floor to open them, much like a kid on Delibird Day morning. She chooses to open the package wrapped in a pink ribbon first, undoing the mentioned ribbon, and practically tearing off the lid.*)

(*Roxie's grin widens even further, if that's even possible, eyes lighting up as he picks up the first item. She admires the Toxtricity inspired choker for several heartbeats before immediately clasping it around her neck, continuing on with the gift-opening seconds after.*)

(*They grab the Toxel plush, giving it an experimental squeeze. Once deemed soft and squishy enough, Roxie sets it on their lap to observe her going for the bundle of berries still inside the box. Although she'll likely give the rest to her Pokémon, she can't help but take one for herself and shove it in her mouth.*)

(*While chewing the sweet Pecha berry, Roxie almost misses the last item sitting on the bottom of the gift box. With a quick wipe of their hands on her pants, she gently picks up the protected cardboard. Their brow furrows slightly in confusion, only for them to immediately raise in surprise as soon as the mock league card is revealed. An excited gasp leaves his lips, bringing it closer to their face to admire it. Roxie's fingernail, painted with chipped purple, traces the front of the card as she takes in every detail. Once done, she flips it around to reveal even more. Assuming the small paragraph to be written by Bede himself, Roxie feels her chest swell with warmth.*)

(*Blue eyes drift back to the discarded lid, discovering that there's a card attached to it that she should probably read. An affectionate chuckle leaves their lips, setting the card down a bit nicer than before.*)

(*Now time for the second, smaller box. Roxie doesn't waste much time opening it of course, revealing a pair of Koffing shaped earrings... In true Roxie fashion, he's taking the earrings he already had in out of her ears and putting in her new pair. After admiring themself in the nearest reflective surface, they turn their attention to the note that had come with the earrings.*)

(*Whilst reading the flowy writing, Roxie's wide smile fades into something softer... Her fingers grip the note a little tighter as they feel their face getting hot with flattery and appreciation. And if her eyes got a bit misty, well that's something she'll keep to herself. With only a few breaths to let the nice words of both Bede and Opal sink in, she launches themself from the floor to begin writing thank you notes.*)

[onarangel]

The Stanley Hotel — Estes Park, Colorado

Although The Timberline Lodge is the hotel fans most closely relate to The Shining, it was actually used in only a few establishing shots; all interior scenes were shot at Elstree Studios in England using a mock-up of the Timberline’s exteriors. King, as it turns out, ended up hating Kubrick’s film so much that he supported a 1997 remake filmed at The Stanley Hotel, the historic resort that inspired King to write The Shining in the first place. Before and since, the grand hotel at the entrance to the Rocky Mountain National Park became known as one of the most haunted places in the US. In room 407, the pipe smoke of The Earl of Dunraven can still be smelled. Guests of room 217 (including King) sometimes experience extra housekeeping services—bags unpacked, blankets folded—possibly because of a deadly bone-breaking accident experienced there in 1911 by the chief housekeeper. But room 418 is the hotel’s most-haunted room, says the staff, who insist they’ve seen the ghosts of children and even their impressions left behind in mattresses. King himself reported that he saw a ghost of a small child on the second floor.

Every year The Stanley celebrates the presence of the hotel’s supernatural, non-paying guests, as well as the literary work of Stephen King, with its annual Shining Ball, Halloween Masquerade Party, murder mystery dinners and a Ghost Adventure Package including a room on the haunted 4th floor, a paranormal activity K2 Meter, a glow-in-the-dark Stanley Hotel squishy ghost and a REDRUM mug. “We expect it will bring together people from around the world for something to remember forever,” says general Manager, Frank Wetenkamp. For your own eerie Shining experience, grab a stool at the Cascades Whiskey Bar, just like Jack Torrance did, and order a Corpse Reviver from the bartender…who might or might not be a figment of your twisted imagination. But one thing’s for sure: he’s sick of customers doing Jack Nicolson impressions.

Source and more haunted hotels on:https://www.justluxe.com/travel/hotel/feature-1956925.php

[drivingschoolaustralia]

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[simpleeshea]

On the Clock!

C!Wilbur x Gn! reader

<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>

Chapter 6

Can't catch a break.

It's Thursday. I know I joke about hating Wednesdays... but Thursdays are truly the worst. As much as I hate putting things away on shelves, I hate working alone more. Darren is actually supposed to be working on Thursdays with me but he's a teenage boy, aka unreliable. But it's not like I can go find him and drag his ass into work. I don't blame him for not wanting to work. If I had the option to stay at home all week I would. You're only seventeen once, and if my parents would have made me get a job in the summer that I was seventeen, I would have rioted. Back then I had a stronger resolve. However... I think living on my own has dulled my senses to nearly anything. It could be all the drinking and smoking too though.

This was day one of two in the week that I had to work without Wilbur. But Thursdays were especially worse for many reasons.

One: Daxton never shows up on Thursdays. If he does then he doesn't actually help in any way. He just sits in the storage closet and gets high while I do all of his work for him.

Two: It's not Friday. At least on Fridays, I have the motivation because I know that it's the last day of the week I have to work.

Three: For whatever reason, the store is always super busy on these days.

My phone was sitting behind the counter on the charger that we keep for me and Wilbur to use at the store. My charger at my apartment broke last night so I was stuck with a dead phone on the way to work this morning. It was a miracle that I woke up on my own without my phone alarm.

The store was bustling with people walking in and out, the door chime ringing loudly to seemingly mock my workload. I could see slushie juice from the machine dripping onto the floor from the corner of my eyes while I rang up a customer's final item. I could feel my eyes begin to twitch annoyingly from the stress that working alone brought. I made a mental note to clean up the slushie machine and the floor below it when I got the chance later.

"How many of those can I get for this?" A shaggy-looking man placed down a handful of change on the counter as he pointed toward a package of snuff.

I cringed before asking "How much change is sitting there?"

"Can you not count?" He asked rudely.

"Can you?" I asked before I began to count the change to which he swooped it away from me and cussed me out under his breath.

I let out a small sigh but quickly got over it as I helped the next person by answering their questions about which scratch-offs I thought would be the best to buy. When I was trained for this position by Wilbur, he always told me to tell them the most expensive ones were the best. It wasn't like the customer paying more necessarily made me more money, so I wasn't sure why it really mattered, But I told the man the most expensive ones were the best nonetheless.

------

It was later in the day and I had finally gotten the chance to rest and check my phone. Apparently, it was still dead because I couldn't get it to turn on. I groaned loudly at the finally empty store before unplugging my phone and stuffing it in my coat pocket. I pulled out my chair and sat behind the counter with my chin slumped against the cool surface of the tabletop. I could hear the slushie machine whirling in the background. It had been a bitch to clean up earlier, my hands had gotten sticky and were annoying to clean off. My eyes floated across the store, eyeing the security cameras that weren't actually working and were only there for show. You'd think that it would be more dangerous working at a gas station in the middle of nowhere... but I guess that's why Manager Ken left us a gun right under the counter for our protection.

I turned in my chair looking at the swear jars. I opened up the lid to Darrel's jar and the one to mine and Wilbur's. I began to scoop out change from Wilbur's and began to place it in the stupid kids, doing the same with my own. I tried to make sure I put an even amount of mine and Wilbur's into David's jar but I knew it wasn't going to be perfect simply because I was too lazy to count up the change.

You couldn't blame me. It wasn't like I did this to every teenager that has ever worked with Wilbur and me... Just the ones that were assholes. Besides, the kid didn't work enough days to actually earn a swear jar. I'm surprised Manager Ken actually lets him participate. Maybe he thought it would have given him a chance to win... it doesn't really matter. It's just more quarters for the winner to collect at the end of the month.

Speaking of money, I needed to check and see how much I had but my phone was still dead as a doornail so I couldn't check my bank account.

Work was boring without Wilbur or his tall tales of a life his fictional self is living, a life with swords and armor, betrayal and explosions... many, many explosions. Or so I've been told. He hasn't mentioned more than a few since he began telling me about his book. I was excited to see where this story was going, and I wondered if the Tommy that Wilbur writes to is just like the one in his book. Someday I'd like to meet Tommy. Wilbur doesn't like to talk about him, or anyone from his past really, but he seems to care greatly for him.

----

I opened up a new charger and threw the trash on my apartment bed before diving for the wall port to plug my phone in. As I heard my phone chime to let me know it was charging, I sank into my bed. It was late and my eyes were slowly struggling to stay open. One moment I was awake and the next I wasn't.

I woke to the sound of my alarm the next morning and rolled over to look at my phone. I scrolled through all of the notifications before I noticed an email from 7 a.m. yesterday morning. It was from the coffee shop I applied for a job at. Anxiously, I clicked on the notification before inputting my password and stopping to read what had been sent.

Dear Y/n L/n,

We would like to ask you to return for a second interview at some point this month. It is mostly to discuss your available work schedule. If you agree to attend, you will most likely be getting the job; however, the sooner you apply to this email the more likely you are to fill in the position before someone else does.

Sincerely,

Star's Coffee and Bakery.

Please respond in the next 24 hours to confirm your second interview.

It had been well over 24 hours. I quickly typed up a polite response asking if a second interview was still available and hit send before rolling out of bed and heading toward my shower.

----

It was another long and boring day. This time though, I had Dexter to help out. I ended up leaving work earlier than normal today and leaving him to clean up and close for the night. I checked my email and I still didn't have a response. I sighed before pulling out my new box of cigarettes and opening it up. Maybe I wouldn't be so broke if I just quit smoking. I tapped around on my phone as I stood outside my apartment smoking my cigarette and reveling in the feeling it gave me for just a moment. I hated how short-lived the feeling was, which only egged me on further to smoke more. I was stuck chasing the feeling of some short-lived high, and I knew that I would be for the rest of my life. My thumbs padded through my phone before coming across a name in my contacts: Wilbur.

Y/n:

Hey.

I typed it out quickly before hitting send. I closed my phone and put it in my pocket expecting to wait a while for a response considering that it was late at night on a Friday.

My phone, however, dinged quickly in response.

Wilbur:

Hey.

What's up?

Y/n:

Nothing much really. I'm just super bored.

Wilbur:

Glad to know that you find me entertaining.

Y/n:

🙄incredibly entertaining

I stared at my phone in silence as I watched Wilbur's typing bubbles appear before slowly disappearing. I watched for a moment more, debating on whether I should say something else before Wilbur began to type again.

Wilbur:

Any weekend plans?

Y/n:

Dying inside.

You?

Wilbur:

Working like always.

Y/n:

Do you think we'll be working at that gas station forever?

Wilbur:

Me? Yes. You? No.

Y/n:

Why me no and you yes?

Wilbur:

Because you actually have goals and desires.

Y/n:

Surely you have goals and desires too 😂

I mean you are writing a book.

That seems like a goal

Wilbur started to type again but the bubbles went away. This time they didn't come back. I couldn't help but feel like I had said something wrong. I stared back at those messages for hours wishing that I had said something else to better the conversation.

Before going to bed I inevitably decided I should tell him goodnight because maybe he had read the message and got busy and forgotten to respond.

Y/n:

Goodnight.

I turned my phone over on its face for the night and snuggled up into my blankets before quickly falling asleep.

[theink-stainedfolk]

In Tandem

---

The overhead light flickered as Inspector Anawin “Win” Suryachai leaned over the table, flipping through the grainy photographs laid out in front of him. The images were stark: a hand jutting out of a wooden crate, its fingers contorted unnaturally, dirt under the nails. It had been the first victim.

“We have three victims now,” Win began, his voice steady but low. “All left in public spaces, each stuffed into a crate and found within a three-kilometer radius. No signs of struggle. No traces of binding or restraint. It’s as though they walked into their deaths willingly.”

Min stood near the door, arms crossed, observing his younger colleague with quiet pride. Win had a way of commanding attention, even when he wasn’t trying to. Min didn’t interrupt; he’d heard this summary before but knew it was important for the others to catch up.

Keith Thongkam, however, was not the “others.”

“Fascinating,” Keith interjected, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs with an air of practiced indifference. “You’re focusing on the victims’ actions, which is fine, but has anyone asked what the crates mean?” He waved a hand toward the photos, as though the answer were obvious.

Win straightened, meeting Keith’s sharp gaze. “We’re investigating all angles. Including the crates.”

Keith smirked. “Of course you are. It’s just... don’t you think it’s a bit poetic? The Box Man isn’t just killing people; he’s packaging them. Presenting them. It’s an art form—”

“Keith.” Min’s voice cut through the air like a blade. The room went silent as all eyes turned to the team leader.

Keith’s smirk faded slightly, but only slightly. “Yes, Captain?”

“You’re here to help solve this case,” Min said, his tone calm but firm. “Not to romanticize it.”

Win watched the exchange, tension flickering in his chest. He didn’t like Keith’s presence—it wasn’t just the man’s arrogance; it was the way Keith seemed to see through him, as though peeling back layers of armor Win hadn’t realized he was wearing.

But Keith didn’t seem phased. If anything, Min’s rebuke only made him more amused.

“Romanticize?” Keith said, leaning forward now. “Hardly. I’m analyzing. The killer wants us to notice these details. Ignoring them would be negligent.”

“Then analyze without the theatrics,” Min shot back.

Win couldn’t help but glance at Keith, who now had a glint of something—admiration?—in his eyes as he looked at Min. It was unnerving how Keith managed to turn every interaction into some kind of personal game.

“Fine,” Keith said, spreading his hands in mock surrender. “No theatrics. Just observations. Here’s one: The crates are custom-built. High-quality wood, polished, but not new. They’re not just meant to contain the bodies; they’re meant to preserve them.”

“Preserve them for what?” Win asked before he could stop himself.

Keith’s smile grew. “That, my dear Inspector, is what we’re here to find out.”

As the briefing concluded, the tension between Keith and Win lingered, though Min tried to ease it with a quiet pat on Win’s shoulder.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Min murmured, low enough for only Win to hear. “He’s all bark.”

Win nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling that Keith was far more dangerous than he appeared.

---

My ♡s: @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @frostedlemonwriter-deactivated2

[latteartxpmc]

It'd been a slow morning within Latte Art; a few customers here and there with similar orders to the ones they'd had yesterday, though nothing Thomas felt was particularly noteworthy.

It was still too early in the morning for his main rush; sunlight barely peaked above the hills to illuminate the world below. Birds were still motionless, though roosters would be going off soon. Life would spring into action within the hour, and he'd be rushed off his feet for the morning ahead.

Thus he'd start getting prepared; drinks he knew by heart, for customers that he knew would be coming by first ready to go with food to go with it.

"Lo and behold..."

He'd chuckle to himself, cup handed over with coin exchanged; a ping of his register opening as cash was deposited. Soft jazz accompanied the steamy coffee shop, dulcet tunes cascading out with each swing of the door.

As the clock struck 8:42am, however, he knew his most important customer would be coming through the door within 3 minutes; her platinum hair hung low, silver eyes complimenting her pristine features despite the messy appearance she gave from getting up and rushing over.

As his large fingers finished his work - a masterpiece by his standards, though he'd need nothing less if he wanted to impress her - the door swung open, the sweet scent of feminine perfume loitering through the air.

"Well now, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you'd almost had a bad night."

There was a chuckle behind his fanged grin, emerald eyes glancing her up and down; he was doing his best to hide the tinge of jealousy he could feel creeping into his flushed cheeks, hidden deep behind fur.

"The usual, I assume, Liliana?"

He'd already began pushing the white cup towards the cat-woman, struggling to maintain his gaze at her face and not look down her blouse. He wanted to be a gentleman, he truly did...

Lili just made that difficult, sometimes.

"I, uh... W-Was hoping that maybe after work, we could... Hang out, o-or somethin'! Just chill together, 'Promise!"

He didn't want to start stammering in front of her, though she'd seen him be nervous enough times by now that she'd know it was apart of his package.

In truth, Thomas had something to give the other; a small diamond ring, all of his savings in one package. He'd wanted to formally propose for a while, now; especially after their mock wedding and his venture into wedding hospitality.

That was going really well, by the by; it'd generated him enough income to allow it to be self-sufficient and still net him a decent income. This ring, however, had eaten into every last piece of savings he had. It had to be special to him for Thomas to even consider it being special to her.

----------------------- For @haemoxin // Please do not reblog if you are not the intended recipient!