#-only common place we have ; which is the dining table in the kitchen we share. Literally the only other place in this flat besides the 🚽

[tarnishedinquirer]

Roundtable Hold 2

After meeting Gurranq, I returned to the Roundtable Hold for the first time in a long while. Actually, that's not entirely true. I'd dipped back in a few times, but I hadn't spoken to anyone save Master Hewg and Fia. Diallos wasn't interesting, I had no use for Corhyn's incantations, and I had no desire to talk to Gideon or his bodyguard. Still, it was time.

I was surprised to find D sitting by the table. He said we were comrades-in-arms, a notion I decided I'd let him hold onto. When I asked him about himself, he explained his mission, which I will try to transcribe as accurately as possible:

"I serve the Golden Order. That I might put this crooked land to rights, following only the guidance of the great Elden Ring. Those Who Live in Death fall outside the principles of the Golden Order. Their mere existence sullies the guidance of gold, tainting its truth. And so it is the vermin must be exterminated... Down to the very last."

It was fascinating. The tortured loops of logic in one statement. If the guidance of gold is infallible, how could anything fall outside it? How does something outside of it sully its existence? The existence of an "other" is not a violence against the "self." A truth that has a contradiction is no truth at all, and destroying outlying evidence does not make your thesis any more true. And do not we, as Tarnished, fall outside of Grace? Does not this logic mean we are equally deserving of death?

I didn't bring this up. As a rule, I don't engage in debate with fanatics. They might as well exist in a different world.

He offered me a look at his prayerbook, that he might teach me for a fee of Runes. I politely declined instruction, but not before skimming his incantations and listening to the voice's commentary.

Litany of Proper Death and Order's Blade. Incantations of the Golden Order Fundamentalists, hunters of Those Who Live in Death.

The role of the hunters is to stamp out defiled reason - all for the perfection of the Golden Order.

How can reason be defiled, anyway? If anything the Fundamentalists were the ones defiling reason by mixing it with faith. If you search a holy book for guidance, all you'll find is justification for what you were planning to do anyway.

By now, I had amassed a decent store of Stonesword Keys, so I went downstairs to open the fog gate. Once the key slotted into place, the fog parted to reveal a grand dining hall. This place could not have been used for years, decades, maybe even centuries, yet it looked as if a feast had just been cleared. A clutter of dishes, but not a speck of dust.

A treasure chest in the corner caught my eye. Perhaps there was some new secrets in here?

I examined its contents with interest, but when the voice chimed in, my blood ran cold.

Crepus's Black-Key Crossbow. Black crossbow featuring a long stock. Used for sniping, it has a very long range. Weapon of Crepus, who served the Two Fingers from the shadows of the Roundtable as the head confessor.

The Confessors?! Servants of the Two Fingers? Surely not.

Black-Key Bolt. The intricate spiral tip bores deep, injecting scarlet rot far into the flesh of its target.

Yes. This was them. That wanton cruelty. I felt my blood boil. Were it not for the pacifism charm placed over this place, I would surely batter down that door and slay the Two Fingers myself. No... I needed to be calmer than this. Use my reason, not my rage.

This place is built on dreams and exists in the past. I found this behind a sealed-off gate. It's likely that the Confessors went rogue long ago and this is their only tie to the Roundtable Hold. Besides, the Confessors that imprisoned me were descendants of exiles from the Lands Between. It was a completely different organization, even if it shared common roots.

There was still another fog gate.

Inside is a smoke-filled kitchen. A stew sits on the stove and cured meats hang. It all smells so delicious. I take a bite, and but it turns to dust in my mouth. The meat is back hanging, without a bite taken out of it. Of course. This is fae food. It is made of dreams and memories, not physical reality. This place is but a reflection of somewhere else.

There is another chest here. I open it and find a holy book, for a certain value of holy. It's a prayerbook for the Roundtable Hold's assassins.

The incantations were written in some sort of code, likely using another liturgical text as a cypher, so I had to take the book to Brother Corhyn. He declared it heresy, said it bore no descent from the Erdtree, and immediately set about translating it.

Are not the Two Fingers related to the Erdtree? Don't they speak for it or something? How could that be heresy? And if it is heresy, why was he so eager to translate it? It seems he's a bit confused about his own faith. Putting together his mutterings and the voice's contribution:

Incantations of the Two Fingers' servants, who once served as the assassins of the Roundtable Hold. The assassins were charged with eliminating Tarnished who had strayed from guidance. The assassins were themselves once Tarnished who had strayed from guidance, and they pursued their duty in the darkness that is without grace.

So that's who the Confessors were. It gives them an extra incentive to condemn others when they themselves are condemned. And I assume that all they hunt are given the pirate's choice of sign up or swim home. Those who don't agree, die. Those who do, become Confessors themselves.

The translation seemed to take its toll on Corhyn. I think he didn't realize that this was in fact a part of his own faith. I pity his naivete.

Do the Confessors still work for the Fingers, or have they gone rogue?

Do the even still exist here?

Is there any communication between them and the Confessors beyond the fog?

Where is the real place this palace of dreams is built on?

[missguomeiyun]

dinner @ Il Poom

Cozy dinner last month with Susan - at a (likely family-run) Korean restaurant in the south side called Il Poom.

Here, I'll give you a preview of our meal:

It has been a while since I've gone out for Korean food :') I really don't dine out much these days, which is why there has been a major shift in my posted content, esp since the pandemic. But more so now, 'post-'pandemic times, things just cost so much more! But anyway, once in a while is okay haha & I LOVE Korean food so I'd wanna try every new Korean restaurant that opens in Edm.

I believe they've been open since the last quarter of 2023. Correct me if I'm wrong! I've only heard about them/seen their posts on socials in January. Located in a small strip mall, I had high expectations!

The entrance had this chalkboard sign. .. "Dumplimg" soup haha

Got a table that was right in front of their semi-open kitchen. Definitely a diff kind of view at Korean restaurants here in Edm. However, this is a suual sight for casual family-style restaurants in Korea. So I actually enjoyed this =]

Not a lot of business fr a Friday evening but I didn't mind at all. There were a few other tables of customers that shared the space during the time we were there. Everyone was speaking Korean haha honestly, I felt like I was 'brought back' to Korea.

Now let's take a look at their menu.

Me being me, I had already browsed several times before arriving here but there were items that were no longer available.

A good selection of menu items. Korean restaurant menus aren't very extensive that usually cover a few categories. This place was no exception.

You're sure to find something for everybody.

Their drinks. We wanted to try the Mae Hwa Su but they sold out. The lady recommended the Bokbunja instead (the black raspberry wine).

Bokbunja with banchans: potato salad, radish kimchi, cabbage kimchi & stir-fried soy sauce fish cakes.

Their kimchi was so good! It's not very fermented so it's not sour. It was more savoury than spicy or sweet. Reminded me of the kimchis I had in Busan, where their kimchis were more salty.

As for the wine, I liked it! It was very sweet!

Doganitang: ox knee soup.

I've never had ox knee before.. . Personally, I am not a fan of tendon, cartilage. .. that kind of stuff. The texture is unattractive to me. Ox knee though. .. it's not a common item on menus here in Edm so Susan & I decided to give it a try. Broth was a creamy off-white colour & comes with a side of noodles. (1 small bowl of noodles with the soup; not per person at the table)

To my surprise, I did not think there would be too many pieces of whatever ox knee looks like in the soup lol there were about 8-10 pieces. I had 3 pieces - & you know what, it was tolerable! I wouldn't have gone for a 2nd & a 3rd piece if I didn't like it. Texture was soft; wasn't gooey, wasn't crunchy. It means they've boiled the heck out of it. The broth was quite bland though; however, that's what these broths are like. You have to add your own seasonings. I like the radish kimchi :P

Next up was the yookgaejang, spicy beef brisket soup. Guess what, it had intestines in it o_O I've never had yookgaejang with meat pieces other than beef brisket lol it was diff. Not only that, it also contained scant amounts of tripe. Although I didn't mind the extra stuff (I don't eat intestine but had 2 pieces bcos again, I thought it was okay), I do prefer the 'original' version of yookgaejang. I just want the beef brisket! Flavour & everything else was good though!

Last item: seafood pancake. YUMMMM! The size was large; plenty of seafood; exterior was crispy. .. delicious!

Would 100% go back!

[lonestarnzseo]

The Role of Technology in Enhancing Restaurant Experiences

In today's digital age, technology has woven its way into almost every aspect of our lives, and the world of dining out is no exception. The restaurant industry has seen a remarkable transformation, with technology playing a pivotal role in enhancing the overall restaurant experience.

From the moment you step through the restaurant's doors to the last bite of dessert, technology is there to make your dining experience not only more convenient but also more enjoyable.

In this blog post, we will explore the various ways in which technology has revolutionised the restaurant industry, making it a win-win for both customers and restaurant owners.

1. Seamless Reservations and Booking

Gone are the days of waiting in long queues or making phone calls to your trusted restaurant Christchurch City to secure a table. Thanks to technological advancements, you can now easily make restaurant reservations and bookings online.

With just a few clicks on a restaurant's website or through a dedicated reservation app, you can secure a table at your preferred date and time. This not only saves you time but also ensures that you won't be met with disappointment upon arriving at the restaurant.

The convenience of online reservations has become a standard feature in the restaurant industry, making it easier for diners to plan their outings and ensuring that restaurants can manage their seating efficiently.

2. Digital Menus and Ordering

Once you're seated at your restaurant of choice, technology continues to enhance your experience. Digital menus are increasingly common, allowing diners to browse through an extensive list of dishes and drinks with vivid images and detailed descriptions.

This not only makes choosing your meal more engaging but also provides valuable information for those with dietary restrictions or allergies.

Furthermore, many restaurant Christchurch City now offer digital ordering systems that enable customers to place their orders directly from their smartphones or tablets. This minimises the need for waiting staff to take orders manually, reducing the chances of errors and ensuring that your order is communicated accurately to the kitchen.

3. Contactless Payments

Paying the bill has never been easier, thanks to contactless payment options. Whether it's through mobile payment apps, QR codes, or NFC technology, settling your restaurant tab has become a breeze.

No more fumbling for cash or waiting for the server to bring the check. With a simple tap on your device, you can settle the bill and be on your way.

This not only speeds up the dining experience but also reduces the need for physical contact, which has become increasingly important in a post-pandemic world.

4. Personalized Recommendations

Technology has enabled restaurants to gather data on customer preferences and dining habits. This data is used to provide personalised recommendations to diners, enhancing their overall experience.

Imagine walking into a restaurant, and the menu suggestions are tailored to your taste based on your previous visits or menu choices. It's like having a personal food critic guiding you through the menu.

These recommendations not only make the dining experience more enjoyable but also encourage customers to explore new dishes they might not have considered otherwise.

5. Feedback and Reviews

The restaurant experience doesn't end when you leave the premises. Technology has also revolutionised the way customers provide feedback and share their dining experiences. Online review platforms and social media have become powerful tools for diners to share their thoughts and opinions about their restaurant visits.

Restaurant owners and managers can use this feedback to continuously improve their services, address any issues promptly, and celebrate their successes. This open channel of communication between customers and restaurants helps create a culture of transparency and accountability, ultimately benefiting both parties.

Conclusion

Technology has become an integral part of the restaurant industry, enhancing every step of the dining experience. From making reservations to ordering, paying the bill, receiving personalised recommendations, and providing feedback, technology has made dining out more convenient and enjoyable than ever before.

So, the next time you step into a restaurant Christchurch City, take a moment to appreciate the role technology plays in making your visit a memorable one. It's a true game-changer in the world of dining.

Source: https://lonestar2020.blogspot.com/2023/09/the-role-of-technology-in-enhancing.html

[lonestarcafeblog]

Exploring the World of Restaurants: A Culinary Journey

Welcome readers to this exciting blog where we will embark on a journey through the vibrant and diverse world of restaurants. Restaurants near Tauranga hold a special place in our lives as they offer more than just a meal - they provide unique dining experiences that create lasting memories. Whether it's a fancy fine dining establishment, a cozy casual dining spot, a quick and convenient fast food joint, or a food truck serving up ethnic delights, there is something for everyone in the world of restaurants.

Types of Restaurants

To begin our exploration, let's dive into the various types of restaurants that you can find in any city or town. Fine dining establishments are known for their elegance, impeccable service, and high-quality cuisine. These restaurants often have a formal dress code and offer a carefully curated menu with exquisite dishes that are prepared with precision and artistry. This type of restaurant is perfect for special occasions or when you want to indulge in a luxurious dining experience.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have casual dining restaurants, which are more relaxed and laid-back. These restaurants offer a comfortable atmosphere where you can enjoy a delicious meal with friends and family without the need for formal attire. Casual dining restaurants usually have a diverse menu that caters to a wide range of tastes and preferences.

Fast food restaurants, as the name suggests, are known for their quick service and convenience. These establishments are perfect for when you're on the go and need a quick bite to eat. Fast food restaurants often offer a limited menu of popular items that are prepared quickly and efficiently.

For those who crave an authentic taste of different cultures, ethnic cuisine restaurants are the way to go. These establishments specialize in specific cuisines from around the world, offering a wide range of flavors and spices that transport you to a different culinary destination. Whether you're in the mood for spicy Indian curries, flavorful Mexican tacos, or delicate Japanese sushi, ethnic cuisine restaurants have got you covered.

Lastly, we have food trucks, which have gained popularity in recent years. Food trucks are mobile kitchens that offer a variety of delicious and often unique dishes. These trucks can be found at food festivals, markets, or parked on the streets, providing a convenient and affordable option for food lovers on the go.

As a self-proclaimed foodie, I have had the pleasure of exploring all these types of restaurants. One of my favorite fine dining experiences was at a Michelin-starred restaurant in Paris. The attention to detail in every dish and the exceptional service made it an unforgettable evening. On the other hand, I have also enjoyed countless casual dining meals with friends, where we would gather around a table, share laughter, and indulge in comfort food. Food trucks have also played a role in my culinary adventures, often surprising me with their innovative and delicious creations.

The Art of Menu Planning

Now that we have explored the different types of restaurants, let's delve into the art of menu planning. The menu is a restaurant's primary marketing tool, as it showcases the cuisine and entices customers to try their dishes. A well-designed menu should not only be visually appealing but also informative and easy to navigate.

Menus are carefully crafted to highlight the restaurant's best dishes and create a memorable dining experience. One common technique used in menu planning is the placement of popular dishes strategically. These dishes are often placed in prominent positions, such as the top right or in a box, to draw the attention of customers. Pairing recommendations are also commonly included on menus to guide customers in their choices and enhance their dining experience.

When dining out, it's essential to navigate menus effectively to make the best choice. One tip is to scan the entire menu before making a decision, as some hidden gems may catch your eye. Another helpful strategy is to ask the server for recommendations or inquire about the chef's specials. By doing so, you may discover unique dishes that are not listed on the menu.

Behind the Scenes - The Kitchen

Now, let's take a behind-the-scenes look at the heart of any restaurant - the kitchen. The kitchen is a bustling and organized space where the magic happens. It is here that the chefs and kitchen staff work tirelessly to create culinary masterpieces that are served to diners.

In a professional kitchen, there is a hierarchical structure known as the kitchen brigade. At the top of the brigade is the chef de cuisine, who is responsible for overseeing the entire kitchen operations, creating menus, and ensuring the quality of the dishes. Working alongside the chef de cuisine is the sous chef, who assists in managing the kitchen and often steps in when the head chef is unavailable. The line cooks are the backbone of the kitchen, responsible for preparing and cooking the dishes according to the chef's instructions.

Common cooking techniques used in professional kitchens include sautéing, grilling, and braising. Sautéing involves quickly cooking food in a small amount of oil or fat over high heat. Grilling involves cooking food directly over an open flame or hot coals, giving it a smoky and charred flavor. Braising is a slow-cooking method that involves simmering food in liquid over low heat to tenderize and infuse flavors.

The organization and teamwork in a kitchen are what make restaurants successful. In a fast-paced environment, communication and coordination are key. Each member of the kitchen brigade has a specific role and responsibility, and they work together to ensure that every dish is prepared to perfection.

Dining Etiquette Dos and Don'ts

Knowing proper dining etiquette can make a significant difference in your dining experience and how others perceive you. Here are some essential guidelines to keep in mind when visiting restaurants:

Table Manners: Remember to sit up straight, keep your elbows off the table, and chew with your mouth closed. It's also polite to wait for everyone to be served before starting your meal.

Tipping Etiquettes: In many countries, it is customary to tip the server as a gesture of appreciation for their service. The standard tip is usually around 15-20% of the total bill, but it can vary depending on the country and the quality of service received.

Handling Cutlery: Start with the cutlery on the outside and work your way in as each course is served. When you are finished with a course, place your cutlery diagonally across the plate to indicate that you are done.

Using Napkins Properly: Place the napkin on your lap as soon as you sit down, and use it to dab your mouth as needed. When leaving the table temporarily, place the napkin neatly on the seat of your chair.

Remember, dining etiquette should never make you feel uncomfortable or intimidated. It's all about showing respect for the food, the restaurant, and the people around you. If you're unsure about a specific etiquette rule, observe others or discreetly ask the server for guidance.

Sustainable Practices in Restaurants

In recent years, there has been a growing emphasis on sustainability in the restaurant industry. Many restaurants near Tauranga are adopting eco-friendly practices to reduce their environmental impact and promote a greener dining experience.

One common sustainable practice is sourcing locally grown produce and ingredients. By supporting local farmers and producers, restaurants reduce the carbon footprint associated with transporting food long distances. Locally sourced ingredients also tend to be fresher and of higher quality, resulting in better-tasting dishes.

Restaurants are also implementing waste reduction strategies such as composting and recycling. Food waste is a significant issue in the restaurant industry, and many establishments are finding creative ways to minimize it. Some restaurants donate excess food to local charities or community organizations, ensuring that it does not go to waste.

As consumers, we can contribute to a greener dining experience by supporting sustainable restaurants. When choosing where to dine, look for establishments that prioritize sustainability and eco-friendly practices. Additionally, consider opting for vegetarian or vegan dishes, as plant-based diets have a lower environmental impact compared to meat-heavy diets.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the world of restaurants near Tauranga is a vast and exciting one, offering a variety of dining experiences to suit every taste and preference. Whether you're looking for a luxurious fine dining experience, a casual meal with friends, or a quick bite on the go, there is a restaurant out there for you.

We have explored the different types of restaurants, the art of menu planning, the inner workings of the kitchen, dining etiquette, and sustainable practices in the restaurant industry. Restaurants not only provide us with delicious food but also create memorable experiences that bring people together.

Source : Exploring the World of Restaurants: A Culinary Journey

[zugunu-com]

Classic Outdoor Distressed Dining Set

Take a walk through the country lanes and come back home with tons of memories of the simpler days! And if that is not possible, then recreate that country magic right here in your apartment or on the balcony. You can bring home this distressed wood dining table set for two and place it in the kitchen so that you have an island with seating. Or, you can place this set in the balcony or the terrace with plenty of greenery around it. This table has the perfect blend of sturdy goodness and good looks thanks to the carefully distressed finish. The jungle theme colors will bring out the beauty of your plants and trees to make breakfast time a time to look forward to! Specification Table Size (LxBxH) : 30 x 25 x 30 Inch Chair Size (LxBxH) : 19 x 18.5 x 43 Inch Assembly Required: Yes Ship by: 2 to 3 Weeks

Finish/Polish

Keeping the Grains Visible We can offer a variety of finishes (in most cases, at No Extra Cost)! Except in a few products. Please note Making a Darker tone Product into a Light Tone finish is Like making a New Product Keep this in Mind, as Wood has different Tones, some have White, Brown, Reddish, Etc. tone. So we can adjust them to be in Darker Tone but Making the same in a Light Tone Will require us to make the Product with only Wood Planks that can support that idea of a Light tone finish. (Few Examples of common Polishes).

- Natural Brown - Medium Brown - Dark Brown - Dark Mohagany - Medium Mohagany - Dark Tone Solid Color (Duco, Oil, Etc) Paint Yes, we can do any Color as Preferred by you at no cost except Golden, & a few other varieties! Distressed finish or ( Old )Antique Finish Giving a Product a Distressed or antique finish is a tedious & Laborious task as Like Each & every point of the Product has to be carefully crafted which requires an increase in the Cost Price.

Design

We can do little minor touches up’s, like making the shelf detachable. But overall (except in few cases) the Product will be newly created & on Custom Basis, and It will incur Extra Costing!

Personalization

We can Add or Carve a name on the Product at an Additional Cost (We can’t do Very Small Carving by Hand & we cannot do some Font styles, Because of their complexity). 

Typical Example of Customization:-

- Change the Finish - Alter the Design or Size (Increase the depth, Or Height & Add the Door Upper part or an Extra Shelf, Etc.) - Change the Hardware (Handles) to suit the House better - Carve the Name (For gifting purposes) - Carve some Beautiful Traditional Carving on the Product - Add a Functionality (in the case of a Lap-desk, the Tilt Mechanism In Solid Wood or In a Cabinet “Secret Compartment”, Etc.) - Or Best, Share your Design with your Pin code with us, and We shall Provide the Best Possible Quote! Read the full article

[ocxees-blog]

7 Top-Rated Student Accommodations in Glasgow

Are you trying to find a Glasgow student apartment? If so, you ought to take these seven top choices into account. They offer excellent accommodations at affordable rates.

Want to study in Scotland? Being home to more than 50,000 students from more than 140 countries, the nation has a sizable proportion of the student population, fostering a vibrant social scene and a friendly atmosphere. Glasgow, the country's largest city, is regarded as one of the best places for students and annually welcomes thousands of foreign students. In its three prestigious universities: Glasgow Caledonian University, the University of Strathclyde, and the University of Glasgow, you can see people from many different nationalities.

Being a student-budget-centric city, Glasgow is ideal for international students. There are many things about a city you would want to know before moving there, such as the cost of living, weekend activities, shopping locations, and places to stay.

While many students opt for university housing, there are some who prefer private student housing in Glasgow. There are a number of reasons why students decide to live in student accommodations. They desire to save some money, among other things. They also want to be able to move around freely without worrying about their possessions.

In this article, we bring you top student accommodations in Glasgow city where you can find your home away from home.

1. Kyle Park

Kyle Park House, which has a 465-student capacity, is located approximately 2 minute's walk from Glasgow Caledonian University and 10 minute walk from the University of Strathclyde. Students from both universities would thus have the ideal place to live.

Both studio rooms and ensuite rooms are available at Kyle Park House. Depending on your preferences and way of life, you can pick your room.  This lodging facility has a common area with some indoor games and a television lounge with gaming consoles to make sure you don't miss out on having fun while studying. Internet access, a fully functional kitchen, a common room, and cosy seating are available as extra amenities.

This student housing in Glasgow is adjacent to the city centre, making it an ideal location for visiting the city's most famous recreational attractions. This location is close to the student hotspot Bamboo, which has access to the best music and drinks for all budgets.

2. Blackfriars

Check out the Blackfriars student housing if you're looking for a posh place to live. A variety of studio, one-bedroom, and en-suite apartments are available at this property. The University of Strathclyde is only 8 minutes away by foot, and the City of Glasgow College is about 9 minutes away from this flat, among other nearby universities.

With 520 students, it provides a friendly atmosphere that makes it simple to fit in. You will have many possibilities to socialise, whether you select an en suite room in a shared apartment or a studio all to yourself. To relax by yourself or with other flatmates, head to the common room on the ground level. The lounge has a TV, a free ping-pong table, and plush chairs.

The Duke Street bus stop is right outside and the High Street train station is just a 2-minute walk away, so if you stay here, you'll never be late for classes or anywhere else. So, if you want to enjoy the ultimate student life in Glasgow, pick Blackfriars student accommodation.

3. Tramworks

The student housing at Tramworks, adjacent to the University of Glasgow, is perfect for postgraduates because of its tranquil, laid-back atmosphere. Modern studios and ensuites with a variety of amenities are available for you to select from. Here you will find grab-and-go breakfasts, a dining room that can be reserved, and study areas outside of your room.

Don't pass up the opportunity to visit the Thai Siam restaurant, which is only 5 minutes away from the Tramswork student housing, if you enjoy Thai food. Dukes Bar, which is only a 7-minute walk away, is another option for trying beer with your friends.

Furthermore, it only takes 15 minutes to walk from the property to the Kelvinhall SPT Subway and 11 minutes to walk from the property to the Exhibition Centre Train Station. You can be sure that navigating the city won't be a problem from this housing option in Glasgow.

4. True Glasgow

You can choose from a variety of studios and shared apartments at the True Glasgow student housing. Thanks to its proximity to Strathclyde, Glasgow Caledonian, and the University of Glasgow, the residence is the ideal place for you to stay.

Being in the heart of Glasgow's vibrant metropolis allows you to take advantage of and enjoy the area's world-famous nightlife, shopping, and culture. Enjoy the nearby bars in the Merchant City or the gorgeous Kelvingrove Park, both of which are close to the structure. The Glasgow Science Center is within a short drive from the True Glasgow student housing. Along with a planetarium and scientific show theatre, this place has hundreds of interactive displays.

You can explore the city without a hustle thanks to the nearby Charing Cross Train Station and New City Road Bus Stop, both of which are just a few minutes' walk from this Glasgow accommodation.

5. Gallery Apartments

In the centre of Glasgow, Gallery Apartments provides lodging close to Glasgow Caledonian University and The University of Strathclyde. There are 126 apartments there, all of which are quite well furnished. The available accommodations range from traditional studios to split-level studios and 2 bedroom apartments.

You will hardly experience a dull moment when staying at Gallery Apartments Glasgow. There are numerous activities for you to do here. Spend some time in the common area with your flatmates after a long day. Play some entertaining games in the game room to pass the time, then visit the on-site gym to burn off those excess calories. You can occasionally go to the theatre with your buddies for a movie night.

Wish to take delight in your stay in Glasgow? Nearby attractions include many well-known tourist destinations. Numerous cafés, such as Opium, McDonald's, The Wee Curry Shop, and others, are available to satisfy your palate. Nearby locations where you may experience the rich history and culture of the city include Glasgow Cathedral and George Square.

6. Merchant Studios

There is no better option than Merchant Studios if you want to move in with your significant other and are searching for affordable student housing in Glasgow city that provides dual occupancy and privacy together. It is a great place to live if your study requires you to attend the university at odd hours because it is close to Glasgow Caledonian University and the University of Strathclyde.

Merchant Studio makes it simple for students to settle in by taking into account a variety of factors during booking, such as a disabled access room, male/female roommates, roommates from the same university year, roommates who speak the same language, group booking, a specific choice of floor, and more. Here, you can pick from a variety of studios.

This accommodation choice in Glasgow provides a common space, a study room, and an outside courtyard to help you unwind. The rent is affordable, starting at £159 a week, and close to bus stops and the High Street station.

7. Bridle Works

The University of Glasgow, Glasgow Caledonian University, and The University of Strathclyde are all within walking distance of the Bridle Works student housing, which is nestled in the heart of Scotland's largest city. Only a nine-minute walk separates you from the crowded city centre's superb shopping and legendary nightlife.

This housing property has 20 storeys and a variety of room types, as well as features like quiet areas and relaxation rooms, a private dining room, and even karaoke booths. The rooftop patio on this complex is one of its key attractions. If you decide to stay, you will appreciate the outstanding amenities this Glasgow student housing has to offer.

The low-cost housing options offered by Bridle Works Glasgow enable you to live in a secure setting while pursuing your academic goals.

Takeaway!

If you decide to enrol at one of Glasgow's renowned universities, you may search for reasonable and excellent student housing options. The housing alternatives stated above are excellent for you to select from, but if you want to look into further possibilities, you can visit the Ocxee website at any time and hunt for your ideal student accommodation in Glasgow. You can also download the Ocxee app for quick navigation and make reservations for your room from anywhere at any time.

Unsure of where to study in the UK? Ocxee provides free counselling to students who want to study abroad in prominent countries like the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada, and Australia. To get answers to your issues, book your counselling session with the best professionals right away!

Source

[emsylcatac]

This may seem random but I’m honestly curious how the Dupain-Cheng apartment is planned. I’m not knowledgeable about French apartments, all I know is the basic and famous architectures there. So there’s 3 floors (bakery, possibly the parents’ room, living/kitchen/dining/possibly t&b) and an attic with a balcony? I’m asking for reference because I’m confused and everything in the MLB universe is kinda exaggerated when it comes to scale. TY 🙏

Heeeyaaa!! Sorry this has been sitting here for a whiiiile because I knew it would take a lot of time for me to answer, so I've been working on it bits by bits when I could.

But somehow it seems pretty much of an issue on tumblr today so anyway let's finish to break it down now 😂 (beware that I'm not a Parisian architect so it's a lot of deductions from what I know about Parisian apartments in general and personal researches, I could be wrong in my interpretation & analysis of it)

So as you're saying, there are three floors including the attic, plus the ground floor (side-note btw but sorry it may seem confusing but I'm talking using UK English, meaning what Americans call "first floor" is "ground floor" in UK Eng, so the "second floor" for Americans is the "first floor" here, etc. It's easier for me cause that's what we do in my language too; I'll also use both the 'flat' and 'apartment' appellations cause I'm lazy and never pay attention to which one I use rip, language coherence has left the window, my old English teacher wouldn't be proud)

It's pretty common for bakers to live above their bakery in France, though not all do.

By the way, for your information, the Dupain-Cheng Bakery which here is situated in Place des Vosges, was heavily inspired by the Boris Lumé Boulangerie that is located in the 18e arrondissement, in Montmartre:

Also for your information, this is what the bakery they got their inspiration from looks like (I took a trip there with my friend google map and tried to screenshot the whole building - it's bigger than the Dupain Cheng's house since it has more floors and I doubt the bakers live in it all, but I wanted to check how far their inspiration went but it seemed it stopped at the shopfront + the global looking-aspect of the building; I also checked the roof and no balcony there). But yeah the building looks very typical-Parisian block of flats.

It's pretty common in Paris to have one or more flats per floor, so you'd have a common staircase in a building and each floor can be split into two, three flats with doors and doorbells and stuffs.

What always struck me was the staircase of the Dupain Cheng's house to access the different floors: they look exactly like a common and shared staircase between a few residents of a flats block. We see a blue staircase with doors on each floor having doorbells and such. There's even a little stickers above the doorbell to indicate the name of the flat's resident.

My best guess here is that they own what used to be a block of flats with different residents, and that they reorganised it into one same house (the Dupain-Cheng, or the people who owned the bakery before them, or even before, etc. The point is that at some point, these apartments have been converted into one and the same so the owner of the bakery owns it all).

(undercut for the rest cause it's starting to get long):

Know that flats in Paris can have very different size, even in one same block of flats! Some can be 12m^2, some 30m^2, etc.

In Troublemaker, Marinette tells Jagged that the restroom is upstairs. Which considering the arrangement of their house is super vague and not informative at all. We also know that there are two doors with bells on the 1st floor (2nd for Americans). So my guess is that on the first floor, one flat was converted into the parents' room, and the other into the bathroom (for which you'd need to use a different door than the parents' room one, and as I said above, that could be smaller than the room for the parents' bedroom).

(Not the best screenshot but yeah we see 2 doors from what were 2 different flats in this, and that could easily be for the parents's bedroom and for the bathroom, one or the other. It's also possible that the parents have their private bathroom too).

We know they come inside the house from the bakery, though there could be a side-door somewhere because when the bakery is closed it'd make sense to use another entrance, and if they want to go to the living-room & kitchen (which we know is on the 2nd floor - 3rd for you Americans - thanks to episodes like Weredad and such), they will ring that bell (as we saw happening in Stormy Weather, Kung Food, Weredad, etc.).

This 2nd floor is organised as such, according to the concept art I found here:

So you have both the kitchen and the living room in one place which is something that is done more and more nowadays as an "open space" type of thing. Their table to eat - they can't have a big feast there clearly aha. The main entrance door is behind the couch, from the point of view we're in on the 2nd picture. And we can see the stairs leading to Marinette's bedroom, which do look like they've been added afterwards as a reorganisation.

Marinette's room clearly is in the attic arranged into a room, and her balcony probably wasn't one but I think some work happened so it could be converted into one - just the fact that she has to go out through a window indicates that imo. Especially since said window is pretty high up and you can only access it thanks to the fact that they made a mezzanine for Marinette's bed. Plus I've looked it up and you don't find these kind of balconies much in Paris - there are roof balconies but they rarely look like Marinette's.

Again, picture of her room that give a good idea of how it's organised that I found here on which we see the trapdoor, the desk under her mezzanine for her bed and the window giving access to the balcony:

(notice that she also has a sink, which give an access point to water which isn't common in a bedroom - so it probably used to be something else before that required an access for water, like a bathroom for instance).

We don't see the little bed with umbrella from here but it's where we're situated when looking at this picture. I found also good models of her room here if you want to have a look.

As for the balcony, here it is:

So yeah the fact that it's above the attic next to the chimneys + the uneasy access is what's making me wondering if it wasn't added afterwards, and that before the roof was kinda looking like the one next to it separated by the chimneys!

Here I'm done haha, I hope I answered what you were looking for as best as I could! 😊 again I don't pretend to know the exact truth of how it's done but this breakdown seems logical to me - at least I'm pretty sure of an old apartment block converted into one same house!

Have a nice day! ☀︎

[harrywritingsbyme]

please write a whole smut with bestfriend's dad!harry

Such A Tease

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I’m sorry it’s a bit late again! But your wishes are my command. This is the first official installment of my new ‘Sneaking Around’ series. The structure of this is just like ‘A Series Of Firsts’, series of ‘random’ blurbs that are all connected. This one will have a little bit more interconnection though. Anyways, it’s a filthyy introduction to some characters🤪...Enjoy🙃

You were never one to sneak around. Nor were you one to be into older men. At least, that was the case until you met Harry. You knew that you shouldn’t have been lusting a man that was substantially older than you, let alone a man who was the father of your best friend. It’s just that neither you nor Harry could help yourselves. 

You and Christine were both in your second year of college when you two met and became instant friends. It didn’t take long for you two to become really close and rock solid in your friendship. Once midterms rolled around, the two of you two were inseparable. And the fact that the two of you were from the same place, and lived there all the way up until you both left for college (which wasn’t that far away) solidified the friendship even more. The two of you even joked that the universe really wanted you guys to be friends. 

But after meeting Harry though, you were starting to think that the universe had other plans. 

She had invited you join her to have dinner at her dads. After knocking down the lame excuse of not wanting to intrude on their father daughter time, she was able to finally convince you to tag along with her. What was the harm in having dinner at her dads house? That was what ran through your mind as you said yes to her. You were expecting to have a nice dinner with her dad, and give him an introduction to the girl who’s been hanging around his daughter. That’s it and nothing more.

To be completely frank and honest, you were expecting to find a middle aged (or close to it) man, who was about average in looks and built, and nice. The only thing you got right was the middle aged and nice part. The rest was the complete opposite of your expectations. When the front door opened, you could’ve sworn that you were met with a god. He was the literal epitome of god loves some of us more than others. You couldn’t believe that he was dad. And even though he was your best friends father, his name followed up by the categorization of dilf was going down in your book. Let’s just say that from the moment you stepped foot into his home, you were salivating; and it wasn’t because of the food. As the time passed, you were paying attention to every word that left his mouth; and every muscle that he involuntarily flexed as he finished getting dinner ready. You even made sure to say little so that he could talk to you more. To make matters worse, Harry was one of the nicest and kindest human beings on the planet. Which meant that your thoughts ranged from him ravishing you to walking down an aisle with him at the end of it. You were a complete mess. 

While you were kicking yourself for lusting after your best friends dad (dilf), Harry was doing the same. Harry was kicking himself left and right for lusting after a young woman who was not only young enough to be his daughter, but who was in fact the best friend of his daughter, and therefore a woman he could never have. From the moment he opened the front door, Harry was gone. It was like you were the opposite end of the magnet that was pulling him towards you. Ever since he and Christines mother divorced years ago, Harry had dated and slept with a good (and very healthy) amount of women. In all of that time, he’d never felt the same feeling he got from simply looking at you. He’d gotten close to it a couple times, but he’d never experienced the jolts of electricity that were firing throughout his entire body and the swelling of his heart as he looked and talked to you at this capacity before.

These feelings weren’t the only feelings you and Harry had in common though. The both of you were also hoping and praying that Christine didn’t have to go to the bathroom and leave you two alone together. But that’s exactly what happened.

“M’gonna run upstairs to the bathroom real quick and you two can talk some more. Just no embarrassing stories from when I was a kid.” She announces as she excuses herself from the table, making sure to clearly direct the last part to her father, causing you to let out a small laugh that was filled with nervousness. You were not only nervous at the thought of being left alone with her father, you were nervous at the thought of being alone with the hottest and nicest man in the world; who just so happened to be your best friends dad. After Harry “surrenders” to her request, she leaves you both in the dining room and heads upstairs.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” You whisper to him from across the table once you two are completely alone.

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” Harry counters simply, dropping his fork and lifting his head to put the entirety of his attention onto you.

“Well you should stop.” You whisper back, looking up from your plate to find Harry’s piercing green eyes staring right back at you.

“And you should do the same.” Harry replies, as slight smirk rising up onto his face in the process; queuing the floodgates between your legs to burst wide open. What makes the gates fall off their hinges is when you feel his sock clad foot rub up against your ankle. Since Harry was a bit older than you, he could easily read into all of your reactions and body language, allowing him to know exactly what buttons to press and how to press them. “Do you mind helping me clear the table Y/n?” He asks abruptly, flipping the topic of conversation from your attraction to each other to the dishes so that you could cool off a bit. He could see how flustered you were by him in that moment so he wanted to give you a little break. 

“I don’t mind Mr. Styles.” You promptly whisper back to him. You were so grateful that the previous conversation was over. He then gives you a little nod and the both of you rise up from the table to collect the nearly empty plates and dishes before bringing them into the kitchen. The two of you then stack them on the counter by the sink before turning to go back into the dining room to collect the rest. Before you could take a good five steps, you’re being pulled back, turned around, and pinned against the kitchen counter. Harry has a hand on your waist and the other is softly nudging your chin up so that you could look at him. And before you know it, after looking into your eyes for confirmation, Harry is lowering his mouth down onto yours. This is what you both had been wanting all night long. You knew that from the outside, his lips were a pretty shade of pink (which is the same shade of pink that may or not paint the head of his cock; you were dying to find out) and they were pillow soft. That was the one of the few things you got right all night long. When his lips met yours, they were the softest and most inviting lips you’d ever felt in your entire life. And the way he was pressed up against you as he kissed you was the best. He was pressed tightly pressed against you and your hands were wound in his hair as your lips moved against each others. The thoughts of how wrong this was were blown out of your minds as soon as your lips touched. As you two continued to kiss, you and Harry began to subtly (not so subtly in actuality) rut against each other. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. Your kiss, movements, moans and touches were brought to an abrupt and quick halt when the both of you hear the footsteps leading down the stairs. The both of you quickly move into less compromising positions and focus in on gathering and washing the dishes. 

Once the dinner is finally over and it’s time for you and Christine to head back home, Harry gives her a big hug and kiss to the cheek and you a more friendly hug to (not be too obvious) and the two of you are on your way. As you two are heading back home, you reach into your coat pockets in search of your phone. As you’re feeling around, you stumble across a small piece of paper. When you pull it out, you try your best to look at it without turning on the light. The only things you can see are an H, a couple numbers, and a semicolon next to a single parenthesis to form a winking face. You were a little bit on the sad side (inside of course; Christine couldn’t find out about anything) because you weren’t leaving with Harry’s number. You already knew that you were going to break into Christines phone to get it, but you were hoping to get it from Harry himself. So knowing that he went out of his way to make sure you had it was really nice.

 And from that night on, the rest was history. 

You were constantly covering up bruises on your thighs and neck, and taking aspirin to numb the throbbing and sore feeling between your legs from the way Harry relentlessly (and deliciously) pounded his cock into you. You weren’t trying to hide your sex life from Christine. You wanted to share, and tell her about the amazing (if there was even a word to describe it) sex you were having but you couldn’t. And for reasons that were and are beyond understandable. The last thing you were going to tell your best friend is that you were getting dicked down by her father. Or that you were in love with him. That was a completely different story though. 

At first, the thought of getting caught terrified you. And only you. Harry was a little scared since his daughter was involved in the grand scheme of things, but his fear was nothing in comparison to yours. In fact, he instigated every situation that heightened the possibility of you two getting caught. One time, he tasked Christine with running to the grocery store to pick something he forgot. It took him less than 30 seconds after you two were completely alone for him to drop what he was doing and pull your pants down. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pull both of you guys’ pants up when he heard her car pulling up into the driveway. As the time went on though, you began to become more comfortable and willing to take risks here and there. You and Harry would always try to sneak some time in whenever you were visiting with Christine. And whenever you and Harry both had some alone or downtime, you’d drive to Harry’s on your own so that you two could spend some time together. Now even though the sex was beyond amazing, you guys’ relationship as a whole grew. The two of you were pretty much in a full fledged relationship (except for the disclosure part of course) and you both were very happy.

Fast forward about six months and everything was beyond perfect. You and Harry’s relationship was great and you two were in your own secret bubble of love and sex. And your best friend/ Harry’s daughter was completely oblivious to it all. Everything was perfect. You and Christine had just finished your sophomore year of college and the two of you were now spending time with your families. You’d been staying with your family for a little and she was doing the same with Harry. After about a week of not seeing each other  (you not seeing Christine…and you not seeing Harry) your felt that it was time for some quality time. And believe it or not, Harry and Christine were on the same page. You’d received two text messages, one from Harry and the other from Christine, begging you to come over. Hers had more of a ‘I miss my best friend vibe’ and Harry’s had more of a ‘I miss your pussy and cuddles’ vibe. So you figured that it was time to pay them both a little visit. Christine also mentioned that you should stay over for the weekend. So packed a little bag and you made sure to pack everything you’d need. Some tight and short clothes, no panties (well maybe just one pair since Harry liked ripping them off of you), two pairs of pajamas, and some toiletries. Once you were dressed and packed for the weekend, you hop into your car and you’re on your way to Harry’s home.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and you’re immediately engulfed in an almost bone crushing hug from your best friend. After a good minuet, you’re finally released from her arms and able to breathe again. She pulls you into the house and as she does, you see Harry rounding the corner into the living room. As soon as you see him, you’re a mess all over again.

“Hey Mr. Styles.” You smile “innocently” to him, giving him a small wave to help your little act out a bit. 

“You know you can call me Harry right?” Harry replies with a smirk as he makes his way over to the couch. As he says this, all the times you were screaming his name (and daddy) as he pounded into you. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. He couldn’t wait until you two were able to get some alone time. 

“Me and my dad were just about to watch a movie and you’re gonna watch it with us.” She interjects, dragging you over to the free couch. 

“Is it the notebook again? Because if it is, then we may need to have an intervention.” You joke, dropping your bag onto the floor and plopping yourself down onto the couch. 

“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who got me hooked on it!” Christine replies, pointing her finger in Harry’s direction. 

“I would’ve never thought that you were into these types of movies.” You ponder, turning your head towards Harry as you kick your shoes off. That was a big fat lie. You knew that Harry was the sappiest man in the world. Whenever you guys weren’t running the risk of getting caught, after sex, the two of you would cuddle and watch a romcom or romance/drama movie. 

“What can I say? I like a good romance.” Harry shrugs, sending you a soft smile. He too was thinking back the romcoms and cuddles you two shared.

“Well lets get it started!” Christine interjects excitedly, pulling both you and Harry from your little moment, and grabbing the remote from the table. You pull the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over the two of you while she starts the movie.

After about an hour, you were a little restless. You loved spending time with your best friend and you wanted to continue watching the movie with her, but you needed a little break. And the idea you had for this little break may or may not have included Harry. 

“I’m gonna take a little trip to the ladies room.” You whisper to Christine as you pull the blanket off of you. When you stand up from the couch, Harry’s eyes leave the tv screen as you walk away. Instead of going straight upstairs, you stand behind the couch you were just sitting on with Christine and you begin “phase one” of your little break.

Instead of just going upstairs and mouthing to him to come with you, you decide to tease him a bit. Get him worked up so that he’d be running to you. While his attention is still on you, you decide to just go for it and lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him. In an instant, Harry’s eyes widen and his cock stirs in his pants. He couldn’t believe what you were doing. He thought he was the one who was doing the absolute most to live on the edge, but what you were doing right now tied you both for the top spot of the wilder one in the relationship. He constantly makes sure that Christine’s eyes are clued to the tv screen and he’s not being too obvious when it came to being distracted while he took in your teasing. He watched as you squeezed your breasts and tweaked your nipples. You decided to do this for a minuet or two before lifting your skirt a little to give him a peek and ultimately tiptoeing upstairs. This left Harry’s cock completely hard, and his mind completely scrambled as he tried to figure out a plausible reason to step away. After about five minuets, he comes up with a good enough reason to step away and meet you. 

“Have t’make a phone call for work. I’ll be right upstairs.” He announces to Christine as he stands from his seat. 

“Alright. But can you tell Y/n to hurry up, she’s gonna miss the best parts.” She asks, diverting his attention 

“Maybe she’s handling something.” Harry replies, alluding to the possibility of you getting your period. All she does is shrug in response to him, prompting Harry to dash upstairs. As soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a b-line to the bathroom. Where you were waiting with your panties around your ankles. When he pushes the door open, he’s met with you standing at the counter looking into the mirror. Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door before standing right behind you.

“What’s wrong daddy? Did I make you hard?” You ask sweetly, diverting your attention from your reflection to him.

“Did I say that you could speak?” Harry whispers calmly, lifting his foot to kick your legs apart. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m leaning towards the thought that you want to get caught.” Harry continues, gripping onto your hips and yanking you back so that you fall against the counter and your backside is closer to him.

“Maybe.” You hum, moving your hips a little in his grasp.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, flipping up the bottom of your skirt. “Well now’s the perfect time to see if you want to get caught little girl.” Harry continues on, sending a sharp swat to your ass to make sure that you know who’s in control of this situation. “You could either lay there and moan, whimper, and cry like you do when were all by ourselves, or you could lay there and take it quietly like the good girl you’re supposed to be.” Harry offers, removing a hand from one of your hips shoving down his sweatpants and boxers down all at once. “Your choice.” He whispers finally before lining his cock up with your sopping wet entrance and slowly pushing into you. “Such a tight little hole f’me.” Harry moans as he continues to push into you.

 “So big.” You whisper as you feel his cock stretching and filling you. It felt so good to have him inside you again. Once he’s fully inside and you can feel him in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before slightly pulling out of you, just to slam back in. He then continuously slams into you over and over again, grunting and moaning lowly behind you. His cock was constantly pushing at the deepest part of you. He was going so hard that you could feel his balls slapping against your clit over and over again.

“This what you wanted babygirl? Wanted me t’fuck you hard while your best friend is downstairs waiting for you?” He pants, continuing to fuck into you. He missed being inside you. He missed the feeling of your spongy, warm, and wet walls around his cock as he gave you everything he had. And he couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the following week with you. He’d be able to be inside of you 24/7. That’s where he always wanted to be. 

“Oh my-“ you gasp, feeling his cock dig into your sweet spot. His cock was so good. That was all you could say. The way he masterfully maneuvered his cock in and out of you. He knew exactly how to move and slam into you and make you go numb. He was slamming into you so hard that you could guarantee that your thighs would be sore and bruised. But again, it felt so good. As he continues, Harry yanks you up, keeping the same hard and fast pace from slamming his cock into you.

“Look at yourself baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his hand up your tight shirt to cup your breasts in his hands. “A cock crazed little girl getting pounded by daddy. A pretty, moaning, and crying little mess.” Harry chuckles cynically, looking into the mirror to see your worn out yet pleasured face and your watery eyes. He can hear your moans as you get closer and closer to your release. He wraps his thumbs and forefingers around your perky nipples before bending you both down onto the counter. “Feel your walls squeezin’ me baby. Wanna cum for daddy?” Harry pants behind you, feeling his release nearing as well.

 “Please daddy.” You whimper. That was all you could say. Your release was coming at full speed and it wasn’t going to slow down. It was hot and tight in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode.

“Cum with daddy baby.” He groans once more, sending one final, sharp and power filled thrust into you, pinning his cock right against your sweet spot.

 At that moment, the both of you let go. Your bottom lip was completely raw at this point, you were trying so hard to hold back your moans the entire time and it was getting harder and harder. It felt so good to cum around him, and to feel him cumming inside of you. You were more than welcoming to the warm and sticky cum painting your walls. As Harry came, he was on the verge of collapse. He was finally emptying himself into you. He let go of everything he had and it was like your walls were milking him for more from the way you were convulsing around him. You were pulsating as you came. 

Once you two are done, he pulls out of you and does his pants back up, leaving you slumped over on the counter. Before leaving, the plucks open the mirrored medicine cabinet in front of him and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He sits it on the counter next to your limp body and just stands behind you to admire the sight. “Might wanna take one, don’t want you to be too sore. Wanna pound into you some more later on.” Harry says nonchalantly. He then brings his hand down to your exposed, sore, and a tiny bit swollen pussy to gather some of his sticky cum that was dripping out. “Might wanna put those panties back on too, don’t want any of m’cum leakin’ out. Want you to be nice and full of it once I empty more of it into you later sweetheart.” Harry continues before bringing his cum covered fingertip to his mouth. He then leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and unlocks the bathroom door to walk out, leaving you alone to try your best to put yourself back together. 

Masterlist

[c-e-d-dreamer]

For AU Day for @nessianweek I thought I’d test out this College AU that’s been bouncing around my brain because I’m College AU trash that I’m considering writing a proper/chaptered fic for. Hope you enjoy! :) 

Most days, University of Prythian feels like every other public college. All brooding brick buildings and precisely placed green spaces and students loudly milling about in droves. A group of frat boys throwing around a frisbee on the common. A group of girls in bikinis tops taking advantage of the late August sun. Shouts of “oh my god, hey” and “how was your summer” just barely drowning out crying parents dropping their kids off. It’s migraine inducing. 

Nesta throws the car into park, the old Chevy only groaning slightly as it settles after the trek up to campus. She hears the doors open and close, but she just grips the wheel and closes her eyes, taking in three steadying breaths and hoping the oxygen can find a way to calm her spiking blood. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s a new year. After everything that happened last year, technically up should be the only direction. She hopes. Once Nesta feels like she has a hold of her frayed nerves, she slides out of the driver’s seat to find Feyre already excitedly pulling her bags from the trunk, settling them on the pavement next to the car. Elain comes up beside their youngest sister, pulling her own suitcases out. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off closer to your dorm, Elain?” 

“I’m in Oakwood this year. It’s not that far a walk.” 

Nesta nods, grabbing the last of Feyre’s bags and closing the trunk. Before Elain can wheel off with her bags, Feyre’s wrapping an arm around each of her sisters’ shoulders, a wide smile plastered across her face under her U of P baseball cap. 

“The Archeron sisters are back together again!” 

“Well, until Nesta graduates,” Elain reminds Feyre. 

“Maybe she’ll do a fifth year, just for us.” 

Nesta just raises an eyebrow at her sisters’ antics. A fifth year? Impossible. Not only because she takes her studies very seriously, keeping her GPA well above the average, but because the idea of spending an extra, unnecessary year in this place sounds like her own personal circle of hell. The sooner she can finish her degree and get on with the rest of her life, the better. 

“Alright,” Feyre concedes. “Bad suggestion.” 

With a wave and a promise to meet up for dinner later, Elain is off towards Oakwood Hall. Nesta hoists one of Feyre’s duffle bags onto her shoulder, following her youngest sister toward her own dorm hall. As she steps up onto the sidewalk, though, her shoulder collides with a firm body, Feyre’s bag almost falling out of her grip. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Nesta seethes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” a voice calls in return, already swallowed up by the groups of students moving in and out of the dorm hall. 

Nesta rolls her eyes at the saccharine nickname, resettling the duffle on her shoulder and catching up to Feyre. Her sister’s dorm reminds Nesta of her own freshmen dorm from back in the day, simple and small, all white walls and plain wood furniture. Despite the things already in the room, Feyre’s roommate is nowhere to be seen. 

“Do you need help with anything else?” Nesta asks, dropping the bag she had been holding onto Feyre’s bed. 

“I should be good. Orientation starts in a few hours.” 

A moment passes as the two sisters stare at one another. They aren’t exactly the most affectionate of families, hugging and that sort of thing. So with a small nod and smile, Nesta is on her way, back out of the dorm hall and to her car. 

Luckily, the off campus apartment she’s staying in this year isn’t that long a drive, and when she walks through the door, Emerie is already inside, leaning against their kitchen counter, a fork poised between her fingers and what looks like a slice of chocolate cake perched on a plate. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emerie drawls, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips gives away the teasing nature. 

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Nesta replies, eying up Emerie’s plate. 

“Do I look like I’m made of money? Go to the dining hall and get your own.” 

“When’s Gwyn meant to get in?” 

“Not until later this week. I’m surprised you’re on campus this early.” 

“Feyre has orientation this week. Plus I need to hit up the bookstore. I have Williams this semester.” 

“That man seriously needs to get that stick out of his ass when it comes to having the “right edition” for his class.” 

“Tell me about it,” Nesta sighs, sneaking her hand into the utensils drawer and then snagging a bite of Emerie’s cake before the female has a chance to react. 

“Hey!” Emerie calls after Nesta as she retreats to her room. “You’re lucky I like you, Nesta Archeron!” 

~ * * * ~

The campus bookstore is mostly filled with parents and baby-faced freshmen trying to decide which University of Prythian gear to spend all their money on, but once Nesta pushes back to where the shelves of textbooks live, the throngs of bodies thin out. She can’t help but run her finger along the spines of the books, all lined perfectly along the shelves. Each spine is a different color, a different texture, bold or curvy font declaring its title to the world, and while many are textbooks, that feel under her fingers is still a comfort. Like a heartbeat lives between the soft linen pages and beats in time with her own. 

A turn around the corner and Nesta finds the section of books she needs. She scans the different titles, and when her eyes finally land on the one she needs, she can’t help the long sigh that looses from her lungs. Of course, it’s on the very top shelf. Nesta reaches her arm up, stretching up onto her tip-toes until the pads of her fingers just brush the spine of the book, trying to inch the book closer to the edge where she could get it down. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

Nesta falls back on her heels in surprise, the voice and nickname snagging on her memory. She whips her head around to find a guy leaning against the shelf, arms crossed casually across his chest and a smug smile plastered across his face. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Nesta’s eyes can’t help but snag on the lines of ink dancing across the skin of his arms and peeking out of the open cuts of his bro-tank. When her eyes dance back to his face, his hazel eyes are alight like he had clocked and was delighted in what she had been doing. It makes her brain crash back into action, a scowl settling easily across her features. 

“You were the one who bumped into me earlier. Outside of Somerset Hall.” 

“That was you?” the guy asks, not even being subtle as he checks Nesta out. “My apologies. Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.” 

Nesta doesn’t even deen that with a response. With a scoff, she turns back toward the front of the bookstore. She can come back later for the book she needs, ideally when this insufferable man with his cocky grins and overconfidence is nowhere to be seen. As she weaves her way through the shelves and toward the exit, she pointedly ignores the heavy set of footsteps she can hear trailing behind her. 

“At least tell me your name.” 

“No.” 

“No? Well that’s definitely an interesting name. My name’s Cassian by the way.” 

“I don’t recall asking.” 

“You didn’t have to. Your eyes were asking for you.” 

That has Nesta halting in her steps. She whirls around and clearly her sudden stop has this Cassian thrown off, his own steps stumbling. Good. She likes having the upperhand. 

“Does that line actually work for you?” 

“Actually, I usually have to use less words. My ruggedly handsome looks do all the talking.” 

“Rugged? Sure. But handsome?” Nesta pointedly rakes her eyes down his figure, and when they meet back with hazel, Cassian’s cock-sure grin slips the barest hint at the corner. “I don’t think so. You looked like you crawled out of a dumpster.” 

Nesta expects his smile to fall fully at the jab, and she hopes it’s enough for him to leave her alone, but instead that smile is still stubbornly there. Even worse, it twists and shifts into a smirk, like this is all some kind of fun game. It makes Nesta’s heart give an extra kick in her chest, and before she can even think about dwelling on what that means, she turns on her heel. 

“Goodbye, Cassian.” 

“Goodbye, sweetheart.” 

~ * * * ~

On Thursday, Nesta finds herself at the dining hall. It’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch, so luckily the place is blessedly not too crowded, just a few pockets of students talking and laughing at various tables. She’s standing in front of the pastry display when her phone starts buzzing incessantly, and she slides it out of her pocket to find Feyre going off in their sister group chat. 

I just met the most attractive man I have ever seen

I’m not fucking around. HIS FACE 

And he called me darling

He asked me to drinks tomorrow night!

“I personally prefer the blueberry muffins.” 

Nesta snaps her attention to her left to find Cassian standing there, that same wide and cocky grin from the bookstore settled across his face. His hair is down today, soft curls framing his face and brushing against his cotton tee covered shoulders. 

“You again,” Nesta sighs. 

“Isn’t it funny how we keep meeting?” 

“Funny isn’t the word I would use.”

“It’s almost like the Universe keeps pushing us together.”

“Or you’re stalking me.” 

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” Cassian says, tossing a wink Nesta’s way. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“I thought we already established the fact I’m ruggedly handsome?” 

“Pretty sure the only thing we’ve established is that you’re full of yourself.” 

Nesta turns and snags one of the wrapped chocolate chip muffins out of the display case, fully prepared to end this conversation and enjoy her snack in peace. 

“You forgot something the other day, you know.” 

Nesta looks back toward Cassian where he has an outstretched hand between them. There, clutched between his fingers, is the book she went to the campus bookstore to pick up. She blinks a few times at the wide script proclaiming Art Through the Ages, the cogs in her brain tripping over one another and trying to comprehend the sight before her. Her hand begins to reach out to take the book before she snaps it back to her side, her eyes locking back on Cassian’s face. 

“You got the book I needed?” 

“The perfect excuse to find and talk to you again.” 

“Well, I can’t accept it.” 

“Then you can Venmo me,” Cassian says, leaning into Nesta’s space and pressing the book into her hands. “And your Venmo will have your name, won’t it? So it’s a win-win.” 

This close up, Nesta can see all the green vines and gold flecks that make up his hazel eyes. The way his nose sits just off kilter like it’s been broken and set not quite right and the stubble pushing through along his jawline. She can feel the warmth that seems to radiate off his person in rolling waves. It’s a bit overwhelming. 

“It’s Nesta,” she offers, taking a step back. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says, like he’s testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “Well, Nesta, how about that dinner? The offer still stands. Or we could skip straight to dessert.” 

Nesta lets out a snort at the comment. She’s sure the sound isn’t particularly attractive, but she can’t help it. The audacity of this man. 

“Only in your dreams,” Nesta quips, turning on her heel and heading toward the register to pay for her muffin. 

“Is that a promise?”

She pretends she doesn’t hear him as she swipes her meal card and makes for the dining hall exit. She can feel Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way. 

Later, when Nesta gets back to her room and is thumbing through Art Through the Ages, she finds a note folded up between the pages. She opens up the paper to find an unfamiliar scrawl, simple black lines spelling out ‘Cassian’ and ten digits. She hesitates for only a moment before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash. 

~ * * * ~

Classes start up on Monday, and Nesta is ready to throw herself back into her books, notes, and work. She has a jammed packed schedule this semester, knocking out the rest of her general education credit requirements needed to graduate on time. The perfect distraction to keep her mind busy. At least, she was able to squeeze in enough classes that actually interest her, including a course on Early Women Writers. 

On Tuesday, she walks into the science building and her chemistry class. She finds a lab table a few spots back from the front, settling onto one of the stools. She pulls her textbook and laptop from her bag and is just typing in her laptop password when she feels a presence behind her. 

“I guess I should thank you for coming through on your promise. The best dreams I’ve ever had.” 

Nesta can’t stop the pained sigh that pulls its way out her lungs. She rubs a hand down her face before turning to the right, just in time to find Cassian sliding into the stool beside her. He has another cotton tee on, his hair once again pulled up into a bun style. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking this class.” 

Cassian reaches into his backpack and pulls out his own chemistry textbook, holding it up as some sort of proof. 

“The Universe strikes again.” 

“So you keep saying, but clearly the Universe has bad taste.” 

Cassian throws his head back and laughs at the comment, surprising Nesta with his reaction and earning them a few curious looks from the rest of the class. The sound is deep and warm, seeming to radiate from deep within his chest. His shoulders shake like his large frame isn’t enough to contain the sound, and Nesta finds herself staring at the crinkles that appear beside his eyes. 

“Alright, class. Welcome to chemistry.” 

A hush falls over the whole room as the professor strides in the door and to the front of the room. She hands a small stack of syllabus sheets to each person sitting at the front to be passed back and a blank seating chart to fill in is passed between the tables. The professor goes through the syllabus for much of the allotted class time, and Nesta makes notes in the margins of hers about the grading system and circles the important deadlines she’ll need to remember. 

“I hope you’re comfortable with where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with,” the professor addresses the class an hour later. “They’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the semester.” 

Nesta wants to groan as she buries her face in her hands. How did this become her life? As if simply seeing Cassian’s insufferable face three times a week for this class isn’t enough, now they actually have to interact and work with one another. If Cassian’s theory about this being the Universe's doing is correct, Nesta is pretty sure the Universe is just laughing in her face now. 

“Well, would you look at that, Nes,” Cassian drawls from beside her. “Another point for the Universe.” 

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Nesta mutters from between her fingers. 

“As long as we get to cuddle a little beforehand.” 

“Cute,” Nesta says, putting as much dry sarcasm as she can behind the single word. 

“You know, lab partner,” Cassian offers while he stands up and slings his backpack across his shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a great semester.”

[cursestothemoon]

Hey lovely! Is it ok if i ask for a blurb or hc (whatever suits you the best) with fred? Like after the war and everyone makes it (as well as freddie) and the people from the order and the weasleys (with their partners) have Sunday meetings at the burrow, like them having dinner and playing quidditch or outside having like a bonfire night and everyone tells stories 🥺

All Of Us

F.W. X READER

Warnings: mentions of war/battle, mentions of past injury , kind of sAD WOW I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT, mentions of people who had died, one curse word, mentions of being nauseous 

The wind swept through the tall blades of grass, each haulm moving balletically in the hills that rolled behind the warm, brown, slightly askew, home. During the months of war the Burrow had been a symbol of safety, for you, the Weasley children- old and young- and members of the order. 

The second Wizarding War was a dark time for most people, trust dissolved into code words and relentless questioning. Remus Lupin sat with a plate half full of pancakes absolutely bathing in sticky sweet syrup- breakfast had ended thirty minutes ago- as he tickled his son, bouncing the small boy on his knee. It seemed to have been a lifetime ago when he had begged Harry to let him join the hunt for horcrux, begged to free his wife and unborn child of his self. 

“Uncle Pads is here!”  The voice followed a familiar pop. 

Sirius Black waltzed through the room greeting everyone, his head of healthy hair-ever since the war was won Sirius seemed to glow- bounced around his face. A dark veil had followed Sirius around most of his life, growing up with the cruciatus curse as a guiding hand and the cracking of human bone morphing into that of a canine was a sound he knew would ring in his ears for lifetimes to come. 

You walked over to Sirius with a soft smile, “Hi, Sirius.”

The quiet buzz of the group had grown into a rowdy rumble of voices and laughs as Bill and Charlie Weasley joined in, coming from the backyard. You made your way to the bottom of the stairs, waiting to hear Fred start to descend the stairs. A stumble sounded from the top of the steps, followed by a few grunts as someone went down the stairs one step at a time. You moved to watch Fred slowly make his way down. 

Fred was laughing, eyes crinkled, an honest chuckle passing his lips made the crumbling of the wall behind him almost unnoticeable. What was noticeable was the weight of the rubble hitting him, it had knocked the air out of his lungs and he was sure that was it. He thought of you when it happened, he hadn’t told you, but he thought of you and he thought of never seeing you again. Fred decided he just couldn’t allow that. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, yours going around his waist, as you two walked into the kitchen. Fred now walked with a limp, the wall had caused him to lose feeling in a little less than half of his right leg and injured it beyond magical mending. His new gait was something he worked to get used to, the pain slowly but surely fading with each day. 

“Thanks, love.” He smirked, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before walking over to his brothers. 

Your time to admire Fred was cut short as Ginny and Tonks apparated next to you, Ginny on your right and Tonks on your left. 

“I hope one day it won’t be so nauseating catching you eye fucking my brother like that.” Ginny said with her face screwing into one of disgust. 

You gave her shoulder a playful shove, “Shut it.”

Tonks laughed at the both of you before suggesting to get lunch ready, a tall feat when there were over ten people starting to get hungry. 

The day passed with the same lightness of the morning and noon, and more people made an appearance for the traditional Sunday at the Weasley’s. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva Mcgonagall had even decided to attend dinner, showing up just as the sun started to set. 

McGonagall usually had to fight the urge to shed a few tears when she arrived to these dinners. Little Remus Lupin sat with his wife and son, a blinding, boyish, smile making the scars on his face disappear completely. Charming Sirius, who had suffered through so much, now holding a newborn baby-Bill’s first- with such gentility you could barely tell he only learned such care at age fifteen when James Potter took him into his home and held a crying boy with the same gentleness. Harry looking over his godfather’s shoulder was almost too much for poor Minerva to take in, he looked just like James. 

“Where do you think you’re going, poppet?” Fred asked as you removed yourself from his lap, stretching as you stood up.

The older woman watched with a smile as you pressed a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s forehead before walking into the kitchen, presumably to help Molly. She remembers when you two had gotten together, flamboyant as it was, who could forget it? It was your sixth year, and Fred had walked into the Transfiguration classroom with so much vigor he hadn’t seen you trying to leave. The force at which he knocked into you had knocked you to the ground and caused Minerva to let out a gasp. From that point on Fred had made sure to turn the charm up to one hundred and you two were dating in no time. 

Seeing the way Fred looked at you made Mcgonagall sure that she’d be receiving a wedding invitation soon. 

“Alright dinner’s ready! Bill! Charlie! Put that quaffle down and come help the others bring the second table out.” Molly called, her head sticking out from the kitchen window.

Bill and Charlie landed on the ground and tossed the quaffle they had been playing with onto the ground along with their brooms. The brothers jogged into the house, only to come out holding up the end of a table helping Sirius, Remus, and Ron. 

You helped set the table along with George and Ginny. The napkins were folded, utensils placed uniformly near each plate, and strings of lights strung up around the dining area- curtesy of you, George, and your wands. 

Everyone sat down to eat, Bill pulled out Fleur’s chair before sitting next to her and placing a hand on her growing bump- Molly cradling her first grandchild to her chest. Remus, Tonks, and Teddy sat next to each other, Remus helping cut up his sons food into manageable pieces as Tonk’s morphed her face into that of different animals to keep the toddler entertained. George sat on the right of Professor Mcgonagall and Sirius on her left, both talking their former head of house’s ear off- Angelina Johnson was a hot topic for George, she had noticed. Harry and Ginny sat at the end of the table, Ginny talking animatedly about something as Harry listened with a lovesick gaze. 

“Seems like I haven’t seen you for ages.” Fred smirked, sitting down in his usual chair- the one right next to yours. 

You turned to look at him with eyes that clearly had tiredness weighing them down, “I’m sorry, helping kept me busy, there are more people here today.”

Fred brought his hand to rest on your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin with a calming back and forth motion as his other hand cupped your jaw. He brought your face towards his, your lips met in a tender kiss before he pulled away not before giving your nose another soft kiss. 

“Tomorrow I’m keeping you all to myself.” He lowered his voice, hand gripping your thigh now. 

You rubbed your foot against his shin, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Fred gave you a wink before turning to his food, you following suit, giggling into your mashed potatoes. 

Dinner progressed with stories shared and gentle smiles passed between the close knit group. Sirius talked theatrically, his hands flailing wildly as he told the story of the time the ‘Marauders’ had pranked the entire house of Salazar Slytherin with a rogue stag in the common room. 

“We barely got Prongs out of there in time, Filch was hot on our trail.” Sirius grinned along with a giggling Remus. 

Silence fell over the group as Sirius’ eyes started to water, Remus not far behind. Suddenly, heavy emotion had blanketed over everyone as they thought about everyone they had lost to get to where they were. You gripped Fred’s hand under the table, hoping to ground yourself for a moment. 

Sirius raised his glass of fire whiskey slowly, a tearfully smile painting itself onto his handsome features. 

“To us... all of us.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@maraudersgirlxx

@famdomhideout

@raabya

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge (it wont tag i am sorry)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 1

Warnings: this short series will include dark elements including noncon, possible violence, mentions of mental illness, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new boarder isn’t who he seems to be.

Note: So I wanted to do a lumberjack!Andy and got a bit carried away but let me tell you, somehow Andy always turns into an ultimate creep with me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It wasn’t often you found a stranger in Heron Creek. 

The small town was barely more than a single street; most residents lived further out. It was more a marketplace than anything. Townsfolk came to shop and socialise amid the limited stretch of businesses and not much else. The lumberyard fueled much of the economy and was closer than any home.

After weeks of arguing with your mother, you’d finally resigned. You needed a boarder to see you through the winter. Money was tight since your mother’s diagnosis; pills, therapy, reduced income. Your own job was just enough to see to the bills but not for the groceries or any incidentals. Even if you did some odd jobs around town, you wouldn’t be able to scrape enough to get by.

You’d never seen the man before. The message had been expected and a last hope. You agreed to meet at the town’s only cafe and were surprised and slightly disappointed. 

He greeted you by name as you looked around. You expected a woman; the advert had requested only females but, you supposed, that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Andy,” He introduced himself as he offered you his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” You lied as you sat.

“You want a coffee? I’m headed up for a refill,” He grabbed his empty mug.

“Sure,” You reached for your wallet. You could tell by his accent he was from the city; if you were to guess, one far from Heron Creek. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can get it.” He waved you off as you fumbled with your purse. “I’ll be back.”

He returned with two cups and slid one over to you. You added cream from the table.

“I know you advertised for women only but… I’m kinda running out of options and judging by how long your ad’s been in the paper, I think you might be too.” He began.

“Uh huh,” You sipped from your coffee. “You’re new around here.”

“I am.” He confirmed. “But you’re not so you should know there’s not a lot to choose from.”

“Why would you move all the way up here?”

“Tired of the city.” He said evenly. 

“You have a job?” You asked.

“At the lumberyard.” He replied. “Been there two months now, living down at Harry Brennan’s but he’s ready to have me out.”

“Hmm, yeah, he can be a bit prickly,” You remarked. “My mother, too. She’s sick. Moody. You sure you wanna trade in one for the other?”

He looked at you. He sat with his shoulders back, his head held up proudly. His gaze was discerning, as if he was measuring your every word and move.

“I can pay more than you’re asking and I’ll help out around the house.” He said. “Well, I won’t decide until I see the place, of course, but I’m optimistic.”

You tasted the bitter coffee. You preferred your own brew. You nodded as you set down your mug.

“They don’t have many lumberyards in the city. What’d you do before?”

“I was a lawyer.” He said. “And what do you do?”

“A lawyer? You’d give up that to live in the middle of nowhere and chop wood?”

“It’s quiet up here. Peaceful.” He tapped his fingers on the table beside his gloves. “A few more months and I should be able to afford my own place. At least a plot to start building.”

You considered him and held your palm to the warm porcelain. Your mother was wary of men. You couldn’t make the decision without her.

“You didn’t tell me what you do.” He said.

“I’m a writer. Mostly pieces on the local species and whatnot. There’s not many jobs to be had around here but on the internet…”

“So?” He asked as he shifted in his chair.

“I’ll have to talk to my mother.” You answered. “Then maybe you can come check out the room. It’s a big enough place for three. Probably too big but there’s a lot of work to be done in the winter.”

“Right,” He said. “As I said, I’ll help out with anything I can.”

You squinted and gulped the coffee even though it burned your throat. You stood and gathered up your purse.

“I don’t mean to run out but I have to hit Marla’s.” You hooked the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll let you know before the end of the week, but… well, my mom isn’t an easy person to deal with. Not unless you’re related.”

“Got it,” He watched you placidly as he rose. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

🍂

You heard voices from the front porch. You blinked and set down the basket of warm laundry on the kitchen table as you sighed at your mother’s mug. There was still tea in it which meant she had taken her first chance to chase her innate stubborn streak.

You’d argued for much of the morning as she accused you of inviting a strange man into her home and you countered that you’d merely agreed to a look at the house. No decision had yet been made, though the only reason your mother entertained the notion was the desperately needed money. And that had been your only winning point of contention.

You didn’t want the strange man living in your space anymore than she did but you also realised that you couldn’t possibly go on as you were. You went to the door, the thicker one open as the screen door was the only shield from the bitter late autumn air. You heard the creak of your mother’s rocking chair and the deep voice of a man. You recognized it even after a single meeting.

“...hauling wood, ma’am.” Was all you caught as you peered through the mesh.

“So you work at the lumberyard? My husband worked there before he tucked tail,” Your mother ranted. “That was almost twenty years ago.”

“Just like every other man in the county,” You opened the door. “Ma, I’d be down there too if I hadn’t lucked out.”

“I’m sorry about your husband, ma’am.” Andy slipped in as he stood on the bottom step. 

“Don’t call me, ma’am,” Your mother rebuked. “I’m not that old just yet.”

Andy glanced at you and you touched the back of your mother’s chair and stilled it.

“It’s a nice looking house,” Andy broke the silence. “Big property.”

“All that bastard left me,” Your mother swore and leaned on the arm of her chair. “Well, aren’t you going to show the man around.” She pushed back so you were forced to let go of the chair or else sprain your wrist. “Take your shoes off, sir.”

You nodded and waved him up the steps with a wry smirk at your mother. You held open the door as he passed and your mother looked pleased with herself as she rocked again. You let the door clatter behind you as Andy bent to loosen his work boots. He stood as he kicked off his boots and you rubbed your forehead.

“I’m sorry about my mom.” You said. “She’s… stubborn.”

“Don’t you apologize for me, girl.” Your mom called through the screen door and you quickly closed the thicker one.

“Well, nothing too fancy,” You stepped past him into the front room. “Living room, dining room,” You waved your hand back. “Kitchen in the back, bathroom as you walk through and the laundry room just on the other side.” You lowered your arm and neared the stairs. “Your room would be up here.”

You turned and he followed you up the noisy old stairs. The carpet at the top was faded and tattered and did little to cushion the hard wooden floor as you walked along the hallway.

“My mother’s is at the end. Mine is to the left and yours is right here,” You opened the door next to yours. “Looks out onto the yard, so not the worst.”

“Mmm, okay,” He paced around the bed and went to the window. He felt the lace curtains as he gazed out through the glass.

“I’ll empty out the closet. Probably why it smells like mothballs.” You explained. “Pretty simple, we share the common spaces and clean up after ourselves.” You shrugged. “My mom will leave you alone as long as you don’t get in her way. She usually stays in her room if she’s not out front.”

“That’s fine. I won’t be here much.” He said. “Just really need a place to sleep.”

“There is one other thing. My mother...she has some issues. She gets manic and sometimes… well, I can take care of her but I don’t want you to be blind-sided. She’s on medicine but she’s still adjusting and--” You gulped. “It took me a lot of convincing but if you want the space, it’s yours, at least until spring.”

“I don’t have a lot of choices but I’d be happy to.” He said. “And don’t worry so much about your mother. I was a lawyer, I saw a lot worse in the courtroom.”

“Mmm,” You tucked your hands in your pocket. “Well, anytime after Sunday the room will be ready for you.”

“Sunday,” He repeated. “Okay, that works for me. Should I call ahead?”

“Uh, yeah, you have my number,” You replied and paused as you heard your mother hollering. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I really hope it’s a squirrel and not a bear again,” You swept out of the room and stomped down the stairs. You went outside as your mother was tossing a stone and shouting at it, the wind chime tinkling and swaying from the porch. “Ma, it’s just a bird.”

“It damn nearly tore the chime off,” She sneered. “Your grandmother made me that.”

“I know, I know, just sit down.” You nudged her back to her chair. “You forgot your tea inside, do you want it?”

“My tea?” She blinked. “Oh, I forgot. Again.”

“It’s okay,” You patted her shoulder as you went back inside. Andy knelt as he pulled his boots back on.

“Everything okay?” He asked as he looked up at you.

“It’s fine,” You assured him. “Sometimes her meds make her a little jumpy. And forgetful.”

“Anything I can do?” He asked as he stood.

“Keep clear of her if you can,” You advised. “I’m not going to sugar coat it. She’s a lot to handle and she’s not very keen on men.”

“The latter I guessed,” He chuckled. “I’ll get out of your hair and see you next week.”

“Next week,” You confirmed as he pushed open the door. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He called over his shoulder as he stepped out onto the porch. “I’ll be seeing you.” He said to your mother as he passed. “When I come back,” He stopped on the second step and you got closer to listen. “I can fix that feeder.” He pointed at the broken bird feeder under the tree. “If you like?”

“Oh,” Your mother grumbled. “Well, I think that… might be nice. As long as it keeps ‘em away from my chimes.”

“I think it will,” He smiled. “My-- I used to have a feeder just like that.”

Your mother was quiet as she stopped rocking. Finally she cleared her throat. “You have a nice day, sir.”

“You too,” He nodded and continued down the steps. 

You watched him go to his pick-up before you spun back and went to fetch your mother’s cup. You returned to the porch as he was backing out and you gave the lukewarm tea to your mother.

“Friendly,” She commented and took a sip. “The ones from the city usually don’t have such good manners.”

“Mhmm,” You grumbled. “Do you need me to warm that up?”

“Go on, girl,” She brushed you away. “I can stomach cold tea.”

🍂

Andy showed up on Monday. He called you the night before to let you know he’d be there and so you planned a trip into town with your mother to let him get settled. You waited until his truck pulled up, his tires crushing the pine cones and twigs as it neared. He got out and you handed him the spare key you had made. Your mother wore a parka and shivered in the car.

“We’ll be gone for a few hours,” You crossed your arms as you resisted the chill that nestled over the top of your scarf. “So you should be able to get settled in.”

“Thanks,” He turned the key over in his hand. “I’ll be discreet.”

“She’s in a good mood today. Well, until she starts complaining I left her in the car so long,” You rubbed your gloved hands together. “I’ll go. There’s logs by the fireplace in the living room. Heating downstairs isn’t so good but it makes a difference.”

“I’ll figure it out,” He assured. “You ladies have fun.”

“Ladies?” You arched a brow but he was hardly bothered. You nodded and left him.

You got in the jeep as your mother played with the radio and bemoaned the downfall of modern music. You shifted out of park and backed up as you tuned out her and Patsy Cline fizzling from the local station.

You went to Gerry’s, the only proper restaurant in town. Breakfast was often better than the evening’s affair and you showed up just in time for the lunch menu. Your mother gabbed with the waitress a little too long and you resisted apologizing on her behalf, knowing it would only sour her already brittle mood.

You ate and grabbed a pie from the display at your mother’s behest. She stopped by Geraldine’s thrift shop and bought another figurine for her collection; the porcelain wolves decorated her room and even some of the front room. You grabbed a few books you hadn’t read before and checked the time. You were certain you’d wasted enough time for Andy to get figured out.

As you drove back, the pale sky made the trees seem bleak in comparison. The first snow was imminent.

“You should make a nice dinner tonight.” Your mother said.

“Oh, I should?” You asked.

“I’m pooped. I gotta lay down.” She huffed. “But you always made a good chili. You can send that man off with a good lunch tomorrow if you make a big pot.”

“Mom,” You looked at her briefly. “You know his name.”

“I do. And that’s it.” She crossed her arms. “He seems nice enough but you never know. He’s not from around here.”

“No he’s not. But no one around here would pay what you want for that room.” You argued. “You’re lucky he’s from the city, they’re used to paying a fortune for shit.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“You said it was alright, ma. You agreed to it. It’s too late to send him off now.” You muttered.

“I like him,” She sneered. “I don’t like the way you look at him.”

“What?” You scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“If I was younger, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at him. He’s handsome but I do wonder how he ended up here. You said he was a lawyer.”

“All sorts end up here, ma,” You countered. “Kenneth used to be an ad exec and now look at him; he sells sod and salt.”

“Still,” She rubbed her chin. “You’re young. When I was your age, well, if I had been alone all the time like you are, I’d be rearing to go.”

“Ma,” You were almost laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“That’s what the pills are for,” She retorted. “But I’m not blind.”

“Okay,” You said dryly as you rolled your eyes. “I think maybe I should be keeping my eye on you.”

“Ha, maybe I should give you a few pills,” She chuckled. “I’m not that mad.”

“Alright,” You gripped the steering wheel. “I’ll make chili but don’t go on about this in front of him. It’s gonna be weird enough.”

“Sure,” She harrumphed. “I’ll be good.”

🍂

As you took the lid off the deep pot, a billow of steam went up and the front door opened and closed. Your mother sat at the table after her nap and sipped on a hot tea. You listened to the floor groan as Andy stopped by the door and proceeded with lighter footfalls into the kitchen.

“I fixed the bird feeder,” He clapped his hands together. “Your chimes should be safe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Your mother beamed. “So sweet of you, Andy.”

“Not at all,” He said. “Simple work. Didn’t realise how much easier life is when you don’t have to think so much.”

He neared the table and grabbed the back of an empty chair. “You mind if I sit?”

“Go on,” Your mother was unusually chipper. “So how’d you fair? Got all your stuff unpacked?”

“Yep,” He answered, “Mmm, whatever you’re cooking smells good.”

“Chili,” You answered as you replaced the lid. “Twenty more minutes at most.”

“Chili. I remember--” He stopped and cleared his throat. You turned and watched him as he smoothed the front of his shirt, his fingers grabbing at the tie that wasn’t there. “I knew someone who used to make chili but it wasn’t chili chili. White beans and turkey… good but, I don’t think I’ve had real chili in forever.”

“You go down to Gerry’s on a Thursday and you’ll get some,” Your mother intoned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Andy gave a small smile. “How was your day in town?”

You didn’t answer and looked to your mom. She frowned at you but quickly wiped it away.

“It was nice. You know, me and my daughter live together but we really don’t spend too much time together.”

“That’s great,” He said but barely seemed to see your mother as he watched you lean against the stove. “Well, hopefully I can help out some more and you can find more time for each other.”

“Uh huh,” You muttered. “Hopefully.”

🍂

That night, your mother went to bed and you retired soon after her. Andy had been quick to hide after dinner and you were thankful for that. You told him you’d set aside a container for his lunch and he was almost sheepish at the gesture.

You climbed up the stairs and slipped inside your room. The night was quiet and no moon floated above to shine in the windows. It was almost eerie. You changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed with your laptop. You turned off the lamp, content to type in the dark and eke out a few more paragraphs for your latest commission.

As the night wore on, only the tapping of keys filled your ears and you found yourself slumping lower against the headboard. You flipped onto your stomach and hugged the pillow as you tried to keep going, yawns blurring your vision as your body resisted your determination. 

You didn’t recall falling asleep but it was a haze of visions. Your head swirled with your mother’s voice and Andy’s deep blue eyes. A blizzard turned the landscapes white and a wolf’s howl made you shiver. 

You woke, still on your stomach, an arm beneath your pillow, and your laptop dead. You groaned as you rolled over. The grey light of dawn filled your room and the frigid air raised bumps on your skin as your blanket was twisted around you. 

A floorboard creaked along the hallway and you sat up. You blinked at the shadow that flitted away through the crack between your bedroom door and the frame. You had closed your door; you were sure of it. Entirely certain as your door always stuck terribly and was quite a pain in the ass.

You drew a blanket around your shoulders as you stood and went to the door. You blinked and peeked out into the hall. There was nothing, no one. You sighed as your eyes froze on the closed bathroom door. You heard the sudden whine of the shower and the rattling of the pipes. Andy must have woken up to get ready for work.

You always wondered how the lumberjacks could handle the early mornings, especially in the winter. You turned back and closed your door. Your feet were cold on the floorboards and the rug was just as unwelcoming as you crossed to the window. Snowflakes blurred the horizon and shrouded the dawn.

Winter had come and you sensed a storm brewing.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 7

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday brings an unexpected heat wave, the high temperatures uncharacteristic even for D.C. Dana has grappled all week with how to explain her Saturday evening plans to Ethan. Her instinct is to lie, to tell him she’s getting dinner with Missy or has to go into work for an emergency autopsy. But lying makes it impossible to tell herself that what she’s doing isn’t wrong; if she has nothing to hide, why would she be hiding it? In the end, she goes with vague truth and tells him that she’s meeting up with a colleague to discuss some interesting new research they shared with her. Never mind that said colleague is a very handsome and apparently very single man. Never mind that she feels a rush between her legs whenever she pictures his cocky smile. Meeting with a colleague. Interesting research. Nothing more.

She and Ethan spend the morning lying around in their underwear, too overheated to do anything else. The air conditioning hums and sputters, trying to keep up, but it's no match for the sweltering heat.

“Do we have ice cream?” Ethan asks, splayed out on his back against the hardwood clad in green boxer shorts.

“Nope, I ate it all when I was PMSing last week,” she replies from the couch, arms and legs draped off the sides so that no part of her body is touching any other.

They are quiet for a bit.

“Wanna have sex?” Ethan asks offhandedly, and she feels a flush of dread.

“Too hot,” she replies with an equally offhand tone, glad he can’t see her face.

They are quiet again.

“Are you okay, Dana?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes on the ceiling. She waits a little too long to answer.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just...you don’t seem like yourself. Since we got engaged, I mean. You seem kind of distracted. Distant, maybe?”

She takes a steadying breath. She knows he’s right. If she were honest, she’d tell him that she feels crushing guilt for being so infatuated with another man. That she feels like a horrible girlfriend, fiancée, almost-wife, for continuing to seek out interactions with him, but she can’t bring herself to stop. That she loves Ethan, so much, but can’t deny the pull that Mulder has on her. That she feels like she’s cheating when they have sex, because Mulder invariably takes his place in her mind. But she can’t tell him any of that.

She rolls to her side so she can look at him.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed lately, with work and the wedding. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

He rolls his head to the side to meet her eye.

“So you’re not having doubts? About getting married?” The pain and worry in his voice is like a kick in the gut.

“Of course not,” she implores, crawling off the couch and across the floor to where he lays. She gingerly throws a leg over his hip and straddles him, placing her hands on his sweat-damp chest and leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait to be your wife,” she says with a soft smile, and the twist in her belly alerts her to the fact that this might be a lie.

They make love, there on the living room floor. She keeps her eyes open, not allowing her mind to wander from this moment, this man. Not allowing herself to admit that this is a consolation, an attempt to prove to them both that she is in this, with him, for the long haul. Her orgasm is weak and brief, not the same. Nothing is the same, anymore. Not since Mulder waltzed into the autopsy bay and complicated her life.

————————

The heat has abated only slightly by 5:30 as she’s preparing to leave her apartment and head to Mulder’s. She debates what to wear for an agonizingly long time; the temperature calls for a dress or shorts, but she fears sending the wrong message if it looks like she’s intentionally bearing skin. She finally settles on a black maxi dress, a compromise in coverage and air flow, paired with flip flops. Casual, not trying too hard, but not frumpy either.

As she makes for the door, Ethan stops her with a gentle grasp on her wrist, pulling her to him.

“You look beautiful,” he says with an affectionate gaze, and that guilty feeling in her belly is back. Their impromptu living room floor love-making seems to have assuaged his concerns over her demeanor for the time being, but it only served to deepen her own inner turmoil.

“Thank you,” she replies before kissing him on the cheek and escaping the emotional heat of their apartment for the temperate heat of the DC evening.

2630 Hegal Place is a stately brick building that has been decently maintained. It’s not as nice as her neighborhood in Georgetown, but it’s hardly the slum that Mulder suggested it was. She feels a little sick as she rides the elevator up to the fourth floor, taking in the dark wood trim against the yellowing walls of his hallway. She finds apartment forty-two and pauses outside the door for a long while. She has a feeling that walking through this door is a decision with consequences, one she shouldn’t take lightly. She realizes she’s not wearing her engagement ring; it’s likely sitting on the bathroom counter beside the sink. A simple oversight; she’s not yet used to wearing it. Certainly not a Freudian slip of the mind...she has the sudden overwhelming urge to flee. Perhaps she knows exactly what she’s doing after all. She turns to walk back to the elevator when the door swings open, startling her.

“Scully,” he says with a lopsided smile.

He’s wearing dark wash jeans, his top half bare, a bag of garbage in one hand. Her eyes immediately light on the broad expanse of his chest, smooth and dappled with a light dusting of hair. His abdomen is solid, sleek and defined. A swimmer’s body, she thinks with a sigh.

“I was just taking the trash out, you’re a little early,” he says with a hint of embarrassment, passing her to stuff the bag down the chute at the end of the hall.

“Oh, sorry, am I?” she looks at her watch; it’s 5:55.

“Or maybe I’m just running a little behind,” he replies sheepishly, then lifts his arm and gestures for her to enter the apartment, “please, come in.”

She enters a combination foyer and dining room, the kitchen tucked off to the left and the living room straight ahead. The ambiance matches the hallway, dark wood and yellow walls, the ceilings impressively high. The decor is sparse; nothing on the walls and only small trinkets littering the surfaces, a fish tank burbling near the window. She waits to see where he directs her to go. The dining room table seems like a suitably professional place for two colleagues to review work files. He brushes past her to the living room, the shower-fresh smell of him drifting into her nostrils; Irish Spring and Old Spice.

“You can take a seat,” he says gesturing to the couch, “let me just grab a shirt and the files.” He disappears through a door that must be his bedroom.

She sets her purse on his cluttered desk and sits on one end of the worn leather couch, looking around at his few furnishings. She startles when a black blur springs onto her lap with a high-pitched meow, and Mulder re-enters the room with a bankers box tucked under his arm, his torso now covered by a black T-shirt.

“Jesus, Priscilla, don’t assault the woman,” he says as he sets the box on the coffee table and plucks the cat off her lap. “Sorry about that, she has an affinity for pretty girls,” he continues, then directs his next comment to the cat. “We have that in common, eh, Prissy?”

She feels a flush to her cheeks and he takes the cat with him to the kitchen, returning with two beers in its place.

“I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind me borrowing you for the evening,” he says as he hands her an open beer.

She looks at him with a mildly shocked expression, his mention of Ethan feeling out of place and somehow obscene. Noticing her discomfort, he changes the subject as he sits on the opposite end of the couch.

“This is all I walked away with, one box of the best, brightest, and weirdest X files I came across during my time. About half are those I investigated myself, the rest were left from the previous agents who started the division,” he slides the box down the coffee table towards her and she plucks the lid off carefully to see dozens of neatly labeled orange folders. She pulls a random one out from the middle and sets her beer on the coffee table, opening the file across her lap.

“So tell me why the X files division was shut down,” she says as she leafs through the pages.

“Well, the official reason is that an investigation into a man with green blood resulted in multiple deaths, which was just the last in a series of...mishaps. But the real reason is that I was too close to the truth.”

She lifts her head from the file to look at him. He has his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. He seems so at ease all the time, so comfortable around her.

“The truth about what?” she asks, working to peel her eyes from his plush lower lip.

He takes a deep breath. “A lot of things, but namely a government conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life, even as they’re conducting experiments and research on said extraterrestrials. Perhaps even working with them.”

It’s that same even, factual delivery. Her mouth blossoms into a slow smile.

“Working with the aliens? To do what, open a KMart on Mars?” she teases, and he returns her smile with one that is so devilish it makes her pelvis twitch.

“Read on, Scully. The more you see, the less crazy it sounds.”

He stands and goes to the stereo, and after a few minutes of fiddling around she hears Radiohead begin to play. “You like Radiohead?” he asks, and she gives a half shrug, half nod. Doesn’t love ‘em, doesn’t hate ‘em.

“So this one appears to be about some kind of tree-dwelling insect?” she asks, reading over details of a dead man sucked dry of all fluids and bound up in a giant cocoon.

Mulder returns to the couch and sits beside her, much closer this time, their thighs nearly touching. The heat of his body on top of the warmth of the air makes new sweat prick at the back of her neck.

“Indeed, prehistoric insects that were released from the inner rings of the tree when they were logged. I nearly got eaten up by them myself,” he remarks, reaching over to turn the pages that lie across her lap. She shivers a little despite the heat.

“And what does that have to do with aliens and government conspiracies?” she asks, keeping her head down, knowing that if she looks up at him he would be close enough to kiss.

“It’s not that straight forward, Scully. There are things, many things, on our planet that are unexplainable, and having control over that which can’t be understood by science and intelligence gives you a certain degree of power. Unfortunately, it’s a power that’s most often used for evil instead of good.”

She does turn to him then, getting an up-close look at the greenish, almost-hazel of his irises, the pronounced bridge of his nose.

“There’s nothing that’s unexplainable on this planet, Mulder. Just because we can’t explain it now doesn’t mean we never will. Consider how much science has progressed in the last fifty years alone. Who knows what we deem unexplainable now that will be perfectly understood in another fifty?”

He tilts his head closer to her and her heart speeds up, her lips parting unconsciously. His smirk is devastatingly sexy, and she suddenly doesn’t trust herself.

“May I use your bathroom?” she asks abruptly, looking away.

“Of course, it’s through the bedroom,” he says, hitching his thumb to the door behind and to their left.

She carefully makes her way into his bedroom, which contains a queen size mattress on a mahogany frame, a dresser, and not much else. He’s a man of simple means, it would seem. The bathroom is clean and devoid of skid marks and stray pubic hairs; the seat is even down. When she returns, he’s placed several of the files in a neat stack on the coffee table.

“These are the ones I’d recommend you read. At least they may be the ones you find most compelling,” he says as she returns to her seat, inching just a bit further away from him than she’d been before.

She takes the first from the stack and opens it. “So how’d you get into all this, Mulder? Have you always been into aliens, or did you see E.T. too many times when it came out?”

He doesn’t answer and she looks at him. He’s considering her, pondering. Deciding whether to tell her something.

Continue Reading here

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: The Clause in the Will

I never planned to write a Ransom story. And then @eurynome827 posted her 2K Celebration and the opening to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was one of the prompts. I’m a whore for anything Pride and Prejudice... and my brain automatically connected the quote with Ransom. And would not let go.

To make an already complicated drabble even harder... I decided to write it with each section being exactly 100 words. It was both a blessing (this story could have SNOWBALLED quickly) and a curse (if you’ve written a 100 word drabble, you get it).

But it’s finished and I love how it turned out! And I was quite proud of myself for the very-Eury way I ended it.

So to @eurynome827​ congrats again on 2,000 followers!

Title: The Clause in the Will

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some language, some minor violence/threats, suggestive

Note: This is AU and it uses the characters from Knives Out but doesn’t follow the story.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.” Ransom Drysdale muttered as he wadded up another of his late grandfather's marriage-related quote notecards. They were hidden everywhere.

It had been nearly a year since his grandfather, the famed author Harlan Thrombey, had passed away, leaving Ransom as the head of Blood Like Wine Publishing. A role that he had spent the last twenty years being groomed for.

Ransom had worked his way through the ranks of the company following college and had been prepared when the time had come.

Well, prepared for everything except his grandfather's cluttered office.

At least the houses weren't his problem.

-- -- -- --

You’d started at BLW Publishing as an marketing intern after college and you’d climbed your way to the vice president of that department in the twelve years that had followed.

You loved every single part of your job.

Or at least you had until Mr. “Call Me Ransom” Drysdale had taken over the running of the company.

He had spent his years at the company floating between departments, to learn everything he could. Which meant the two of you had worked together multiple times.

But he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons. And knew exactly what buttons to push when.

-- -- -- --

"You told me months ago that the marriage clause wasn't legally binding," Ransom fumed. "And now you're telling me it is?!"

His lawyers avoided his gaze.

"Get out!" Ransom shouted and they scurried out.

He had seven days to find a wife and marry her.

If he didn't, he lost the company.

It was just like his grandfather to pull a stunt like this. Even from the grave.

He should just let his prick of an uncle have the company. Just to prove a point.

But he knew he couldn't.

His uncle would ruin everything.

Ransom wouldn't let that happen.

-- -- -- --

"You're not the pizza guy," you said, opening your front door to find Ransom standing on the other side with a bouquet of roses and your pizza.

"Met him in the elevator. Can I come in?"

Stepping aside, you let him in. Only noticing as he passed that his normal confident aura was missing.

"What's wrong?"

He explained everything while the two of you ate pizza.

"Walt would destroy everything," you commiserated.

"Exactly."

Then he pulled out a ring box.

"Will you marry me and help me save the company we both love from ruin?"

How could you say no?

-- -- -- --

"I got married."

Ransom had chosen a public setting to share his news in hopes that his uncle wouldn't make a scene.

The fact that it was day six of his seven day window was pure coincidence.

Glancing at his wife, he found her staring across the table at his uncle, who, Ransom soon saw, was nearly purple with rage.

"This can't be legal!" his uncle shouted over the congratulations from the others. "It should have been mine! All of it!"

Then Walt pushed his chair back and stormed out of the private dining room, his wife and son following.

-- -- -- --

Logically, you knew marrying Ransom would mean moving into his house, but you'd thought you'd have more time.

But with his uncle looking for any reason to question the legitimacy of the marriage, you and Ransom agreed it had to happen now.

The two of you packed up your apartment and then had everything you were keeping moved to his house.

To his credit, Ransom made as much room for your stuff in the common areas of the house as possible, wanting you to feel at home.

But the only place that truly felt that way was your private bedroom.

-- -- -- --

Ransom sat in the hall with Walt as their lawyers met with a judge behind closed doors following another of Walter's attempts to fight the will.

"I’ve heard rumors," Walt said, his tone was nonchalant, but it was laced with venom. "About how your wife became v-"

Ransom had his hand around his uncle's throat before Walt could make another sound.

"That is my wife," he growled. "You will not say one more fucking thing about her or I will sue you for libel. Do you understand me?"

Walt let out a squeak of acknowledgement and Ransom let him go.

-- -- -- --

You'd known Ransom for years.

But after living with him for a few weeks, you realized you hadn't really known him at all.

Work Ransom demanded the respect and attention owed to the boss.

Home Ransom was softer and wore faded blue jeans instead of three piece suits.

He liked spending Saturday mornings at the market and he loved to cook.

And boy could he cook!

The one on one time with him at home had given you a whole new appreciation for your husband.

He opened up to you about things you were sure he'd never told anyone else.

-- -- -- --

Ball buster.

That's how he'd described her the first time he had worked with her on a project.

It was the reason he had recommended her for the vice president role when it had opened up.

Kind. Funny. Caring. Passionate. 

Those were the words that came to mind now when he thought of her.

She was the type of woman who could tell a dirty joke one minute and then have a serious conversation about his upbringing.

He'd been hesitant to include her at first, but their Saturday morning shopping trips were quickly becoming his favorite activity of the week.

-- -- -- --

You loved Ransom.

It hit you like a ton of bricks as you sat in the middle of a meeting at work, a month later.

You were supposed to be paying attention, but your eyes kept going across the table to where Ransom sat.

You couldn't explain how you knew, you just did.

When had it happened? You didn't know that either.

All you knew was that he was handsome and he was all yours.

At least on paper.

The joy faded from you as you remembered the two of you were roommates. Nothing more.

You wished that could change.

-- -- -- --

Ransom didn't know when it happened, but he realized one Saturday morning, a few months in, that he was in love with his wife.

He hadn't planned to fall in love with her. He'd envisioned them being married for a few years, to solidify his role at the publishing company, and then divorcing as quietly as they had married.

Being in love complicated things.

It made him think about her happiness above his own.

Was she happy with him?

If she wasn't, was he prepared to walk away from her and the company to ensure her happiness?

Yes, he decided.

-- -- -- --

"We need to talk," he said, setting a manilla envelope on the kitchen counter.

"What's that?"

"Annulment papers."

"What?!" you asked in complete disbelief.

"I love you," he confessed. "If you're not happy, I'm -"

"I love you, too," you cut him off, joy filling your heart.

Moving around the island, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss.

"An annulment would have cost you everything," you said.

"Your happiness means more to me," he said. "Even if it meant giving everything to Walt."

"The company is yours," you told him. "Forever."

"Ours."

-- -- -- --

"Are you coming in?"

She stood in the doorway to what had been his bedroom.

After their declaration of love, he'd properly courted her.

Taking her out on dates. Sending her flowers just because.

They'd kissed a lot and had made it to all the bases, as they say, except home.

That was the plan tonight, she'd told him.

They'd gone out for dinner and then she'd asked him to take her home.

Home to their home.

To their bedroom.

Her eyes met his as she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Letting it fall to the floor.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #15

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Richard-sensei’s Cooking Classroom

On a bright morning in Kandy, a provincial town from Sri Lanka, a man was standing still in his kitchen. Leaning against the wall was a Japanese book titled “Breakfast for People Who Live Alone”. There were three items on the menu. Just an omelet with ketchup on top, boiled sausages and fruit salad yogurt.

Regardless, the kitchen where the man was standing was an explosion of colors, as if it were the atelier of some Dadaist painter. Perhaps he was wrong in trying to make an omelet, the blond man thought, tilting his head despondently. Loved by the god of beauty, his blond hair swayed smoothly, and on the wall behind him, the exploded omelet was scattered in all directions, giving off an artistic atmosphere. It was obvious that in order to cook an omelet on a frying pan, it was necessary to shake up said pan, but the specific method of how hard one should shake it had not even once made an appearance in his life, much like fairies and unicorns from fictional stories. As a result of him jerking the pan with moderate adjustment, the omelet had flown off, hitting the wall and dripping down under the influence of gravity.

The beautiful man cast his eyes at the opposite side of the kitchen with a melancholic look as well. His golden eyelashes reflected a rainbow-colored prism and shone like an emerald-green sea under the morning sun. In a corner, where a microwave and water heater sat on top of the kitchen table, something orange had burst all over the place from within the microwave. Just why did food blow up so often, the man wondered, silently ashamed of his ignorance for trying to reduce just two rules of thumb to common sense. When he put three vacuum-packed blood sausages in the microwave and warmed them up, the sausages lost their original shape with a faint explosive sound. Obeying the instructions that said, “Bain-marie or microwave”, the man had chosen the microwave, which seemed less difficult, but probably due to some process being neglected or the heating time being incorrect, the sausages had undergone a magical transformation, looking like some sort of eerie monster.

Moving his feet so as not to make a sound, the man headed to the dining room, lightly placing a hand on the large table and elegantly gazing at the tabletop. Fragments of yellow and green were floating on a sea of white.

“Fruits yogurt,” the man whispered, as if it were a magic spell, heaving a spring breeze-like sigh.

It was just chopped fruits floating on yogurt. Taking into account the possibility that he could not cut the fruits too meticulously, the man was out of luck to have a slicer with him, and by the moment he realized that this one was apparently not supposed to be used for fruits but rather for slicing things such as cabbages and carrots into thin pieces, the fruits that he had failed to chop had gone flying over the table, surrounding the bowl of yogurt and instantaneously creating a Genesis-like scene on the tabletop. It was chaos.

On 360 degrees, no matter where he looked, it was a foodstuff hell. After looking around one more time at the artistic misery he had created and sighing coarsely, he started anew and began doing a quick cleaning.

   “Morning, Richard. You slept well, I see.”

“Good morning, Seigi. So you wake up early even in Sri Lanka. Short sleepers have shorter lives. Didn’t you go to bed yesterday when it was already past midnight?”

“That’s fine for today. I have a guest here, after all. I’ll catch up with my sleep tomorrow.”

“I have not done so much to be called a ‘guest’.”

“There, there; let’s leave that for after we eat.”

His face looking like he was checking on something, the man whose appearance was impeccable even first-thing in the morning, as usual, glanced at the kitchen and dining room of my Sri Lankan house, and then let out a tiny sigh, stopping by a place close to the garden.

“Hey, could it be you woke up early this morning? Like, around 5AM...”

“Why?”

“I wonder if it was my imagination.”

In this three-story house, the first floor was a shared space for the dining room and bathroom, while the second and third floors had bedrooms. The room that I used as my main one was on the second floor, and the room on the third floor was used when Richard came over to be my overseer, but only the first floor had a bathroom. Whenever someone was going down to the first floor, one could tell by the sound of them stepping on the stairs. That was no big deal when I was alone, but this was the kind of house that would disturb other people’s sleep if I didn’t walk quietly whenever I needed to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

At around five o’clock, probably because I was drowsy, I had the feeling that someone had gone downstairs. I went back to sleep thinking that maybe Richard, who was looking after me despite having a jetlag, felt like having a late-night snack or something, but it was apparently a wrong guess.

Said man, dressed in a soft-looking shirt and the beige pants that he usually wore when he was relaxed, was standing still with eyes wide-open. It seemed he had noticed what was on the table. I was happy with the reaction.

“I’ve got breakfast for us. Hope it suits your taste.”

“Why? You said yesterday that your breakfast was just cereal and fruits.”

“I indeed said this yesterday, but I wanted to show it’s really not like that every single day. I also didn’t want you to worry for no reason.”

Plain omelets, sausages and fruit salad. For some reason, this house had many pottery dishes from European brands instead of Sri Lankan ones, but they were working out well for today. The paintings of green and pink pedicels over a white background were apparently from a German brand. It was actually my first time making a breakfast like this, which looked like it could show up in a commercial for some newly built apartment building and wasn’t as filling as its appearance suggested, but it had been surprisingly fun.

“I saw the recipe book in the kitchen. It’s a present for me, right? Thank you. I was happy to read a book in Japanese after so long, so I decided to make the part that showed up when I opened it into our menu. Now, now, please have a seat and eat up.”

For about solid ten seconds, Richard stared at the one-plate breakfast, his gaze looking like he was seeing a stone that he had never set his eyes on before, but then, after giving a start as if just remembering that I existed, he sat down with his same-old graceful demeanor.

“Well then, shall we?”

And so, Richard ate breakfast next to me. At times like these, this man would become extremely well-mannered, taking notice of and praising the details, such as the fineness of the omelet’s texture and the beauty of the fruit cuts in the yogurt, as if he were evaluating a five-million-yen jewelry or something. Even while being in Sri Lanka, I sometimes thought that if there were teachers like him in middle or high school around Japan, it would save many children.

“Thanks; that makes me happy. I’m benefiting from it too. Getting so many compliments for just boiling sausages.”

I didn’t know very well how to describe Richard’s face when I said that. His expression seemed like it could be the theme of a masterpiece painting, as if the exceptionally beautiful man had suddenly been reminded of an indescribable pain in the depths of his chest, but was struggling not to expose it in his facial expression. When I asked what was up, the reply was a gentle smile. His usual face was already back.

“I believe I have already said this several times, but you are extremely smart. You decipher the texts, assemble the methods in your head and put them to practice. There are more hardships in this process than you can imagine. Nevertheless, you specialize at it. This is clearly a talent of yours. Be sure to cherish it.”

“I will. But, well, I think doing my best because someone else’s gonna eat it also counts.”

For security reasons, I wasn’t allowed to invite guests to this house. I was sometimes called over to the house of a local friend I had made, and then I’d cook a simple dish there, but guests that make several meticulous dishes on the spot were probably not very welcome. So whenever there were days like these, when “guests” officially recognized by the house’s owner, Saul-san, occasionally came over, it was a great opportunity for me have a change of pace.

While thanking Richard for washing the dishes, I cleaned up the dining room and before moving on to stone study, which was my daily routine in the morning (at any rate, I had to examine stones thoroughly, guess their prices and drill the right and wrong ones into my head; pretty simple), I asked him about lunch. Richard-sensei was very busy. No time for leisure.

“You’ll be off again in the evening flight, right? What we gonna do about lunch? If you’re leaving at three o’clock, then you’ll still be in Kandy at noon, right? Can we go to a restaurant I like?”

“What a good thing it is that you found a ‘restaurant you like’ in this country. Allow me to accompany you.”

While smiling, Richard was about to let out a yawn, yet he hastily bit it down. He was like a prideful cat. As I thought, he seemed a little sleepy. When I suggested him to go to bed again, he said that he didn’t mind it, since he was going to sleep in the night flight either way. And yet he was calling me a short sleeper.

I glanced at the dining room and the kitchen. They were neatly organized. From their tidy and orderly state, I could tell with just a look that I obviously hadn’t cleaned them to this point last night. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on the floor. Despite the difference between the inside and outside of the house being so vague. There was no evidence left, but it was clear that something had happened here. Not a murder, but a more peaceful and heartwarming incident. The suspect showed no signs of confessing. So I wouldn’t say anything either. No particular comments on the multiple rags and some food remains at the bottom of the organic waste bag. I only had one thing that I wanted to say no matter what, so I hoped he’d just let me say it.

After finishing the meal, I waited for the beautiful man to stand up, and then I went behind Richard, clutching his shoulders. I was going to say it before he turned around, asking what I was doing. It was best if I didn’t see his face. There was no telling what I could say when I was staring at him in fascination.

“I myself don’t know very well what I’m talking about, so I want you to forget it in two seconds, but I was reeeally happy for this morning. Really happy. To a shocking extent.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I said I didn’t know either, right? I don’t get it, but anyway, I was happy. That’s all! Aight, study time.”

Without looking at Richard’s face until the very end, I started knocking a thousand gemstones in my workspace on the first floor. I had to look over them while it was morning. This was my current job. Richard didn’t say anything else, but his back looked calm under his shirt, so I was a bit relieved as well. Thinking back on it now, I had taken the wrong path at that time. I should have told him “not to overdo it” more clearly.

Two weeks later, Richard came back, but this time, I heard a small explosion at 6AM. Three times in a row. What did it take for things to turn out this way? The current time was already 7AM. Between getting up right now or not, which one would be less of a hassle later on? I didn’t even want to think about what had been made of the dining room. There was no one other than the two of us in this house and this wasn’t a matter that I had to go as far as asking the landlord, Saul-san, for advice on, so I knew I was the one who had to deal with it anyway. I wanted someone to decide in my stead. What should I do?

[ladykissingfish]

Dining Out with the Akatsuki

Pein

The Pein-body doesn’t need food to sustain itself, but Nagato has made it so that he can taste and experience eating through the body. Surprisingly his favorite dish is a simple fish stew, which he enjoys several bowls full of, paired with a beer or two and a few pieces of delightfully crusty bread. But more so than the food, Nagato enjoys “being” with the others, especially Konan. When they were younger he and the blue haired beauty were often on the brink of total starvation, so to be able to afford the luxury of eating prepared foods in a nice establishment, and to do so with FRIENDS, is a dream that he’d never have dared to dream. Is a very tidy eater, and constantly makes sure the others are keeping their areas clean, so as not to make too much work for their waiter/waitress. The type to, if he thinks the server has too many empty plates and glasses to take back, will get to and help that person carry the empties back to the kitchen. Also makes sure everyone tips, even Kakuzu.

Konan

When going out to eat, Konan will always order a salad. That’s it. And it’s not because she’s a dainty eater; it’s because she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that every other member of the Akatsuki will be sharing large portions of THEIR food with her. Even Kakuzu will push whatever cheap dinner he’s bought across the table to her and gruffly tell her to take some of whatever’s there. The waiter or waitress will come back to the table to refill drinks and be confused that the delicate-looking salad girl is elbows deep in fries, ribs, steak, and anything else the group has pressed on her. And dessert is another matter entirely. ALL of them (with the exception of Kakuzu because he feels sharing his dinner was more than enough) will fight over who gets to buy Konan dessert. Usually settled with spirited games of rock-paper-scissors, and the winner gets to pick (and buy, of course) what sweet treat Konan gets. Also she never ends up paying for the salad she initially ordered, either, as the one buying her dessert will usually go ahead and spring for that, as well.

Hidan

Hidan is a big meat-eater, so when they go out to eat will typically order several pork, chicken, or beef-based dishes. His favorite is spare ribs, and he’s such an aggressive eater that the sauce will ruin whatever shirt he’s been made to wear for the evening. Watching him eat things like steak is always a bit gross, as he orders it cooked as rare as possible and always makes a big production out of licking the excess blood from his arms/the plate. He isn’t really a fan of sides, though, in particular vegetables; and will always push off the undesirables on his plate to whoever’s sitting closest to him (most often Kakuzu who will take whatever’s offered because hey, free food). He’s also one of the few who won’t order any sort of alcoholic drink with his meal, as he claims Jashinism prohibits the consumption of such things. Sodas or sweet fruit punches are his thing, and he drinks so much of this that he’ll end up rushing to the bathroom to pee a bunch before the meal is over. Is the fastest eater in the bunch so will try and start arguments or have arm wrestling contests with the others to pass the time along. If the waitress is pretty, he’ll flirt shamelessly and leave a big enough tip to make Kakuzu faint.

Kakuzu

It takes a LOT to get Kakuzu to go out and eat with everyone; he’s the epitome of the “we have food at home” mantra. When he does, he’ll always go for the absolute cheapest meal on the menu, even if the dish isn’t something he particularly likes. Also isn’t shy about using his advanced age to his advantage, to make use of senior specials and coupons. Always requests for there to be no salt in his meal because “too much sodium raises blood pressure which is bad for the heart”, and after all he’s got several hearts to take care of. Doesn’t really partake in the conversations at the table except to occasionally comment to the others about food being left on their plates; yes, even with the others paying for their own meals, he’s still hyper concerned about wasting money. The only time he likes going out to eat is his birthday, when everyone else will chip in to buy his meal for him. A big Sake drinker and will have almost an entire bottle ((of the cheapest kind)) with his meal, but he holds his liquor so well that he never seems drunk.

Sasori

Doesn’t eat but going out with the others is one of the few things he enjoys. He is someone who prefers elegant, quiet atmospheres, therefore favors going to smaller, somewhat exclusive restaurants. Since his attention isn’t focused on food, he’ll get up and wander from the table a lot, taking in the artwork (if any) on the walls. Has a special (and unexpected) talent, in calming down the fussy children of other diners. Because he’s curious about everything, he’ll ask Deidara or Itachi to describe their meals to him in heavy detail.

Deidara

This guy can eat. He, Hidan and Tobi are the biggest eaters in the company, so when everyone goes to a restaurant or cafe together, separate checks are a necessity ((Kakuzu: All I had was tea! Why should we split the bill when those fucks had 12 plates each?!)) Shares a slight commonality with Kakuzu in that his favorite meal is fish-based, and Kisame has taught him well in regards to knowing whether a fish is fresh or not. He isn’t the neatest diner, and will constantly be reminded by Pein or Konan to tidy up his area before the waiter/waitress comes back to the table. Will ALWAYS ask the server about the specials of the day, even though 9 times out of 10 he already knows what he’s going to order. Deidara has the ability to taste food through his hands, and will sometimes make a show of eating with all three mouths at once (which fascinates the other diners but leaves his own team disenchanted, to say the least). Can easily be goaded into eating “competitions” with Hidan, which almost always results in severe stomachaches and a need to be carried back to the hideout by their respective partners.

Tobi

What’s an entree? This guy will always go straight for the dessert menu. At first Pein and the others tried to stop him, telling him dessert was only to be had after a balanced meal; but Tobi’s tendency to eat a single bite of an expensively-priced steak quickly convinced the others to mind their own business. Whether at home or out to dinner, meal times are the only times he removes his mask; he still wears a rough black cloth over his eyes but without the mask everyone can see the (slightly scarred) bottom half of his face — and his smile. Which he does a lot; it’s obvious that spending time with the others means a great deal to him. His voice changes just slightly too — he still says the most out of place, goofy things, only in a much deeper tone of voice. Deidara especially is completely thunderstruck by how calm and quiet and NORMAL Tobi seems without the mask, and comes up with the (correct) theory that Tobi literally becomes a different person with that orange monstrosity on. Can be goaded into eating contests with Deidara and Hidan, although his food tolerance isn’t as high as these two and will more than likely spend all night in the bathroom.

Zetsu

Never ever joins the others when they dine out. Like never. Will occasionally use his exceptional scouting skills to scope out new venues for the group, but that’s as far as it goes.

Kisame

Restaurants aren’t really his thing, so (as in many other circumstances) will only accompany the others if Itachi goes as well. Like Pein and Deidara, goes mostly for fish-based meals, although he does enjoy an extra rare steak on occasion. Doesn’t drink alcohol but will order many cups of tea or, in the winter, cocoa. Is one of the few in the group who knows just how bad Itachi’s eyesight has gotten, so will always lean close and quietly whisper to him things on the menu that he thinks he’d like to eat. Enjoys eating establishments where they play soft music; it always puts him in a relaxed state of mind. Kisame is like Pein in that he abhors rudeness towards servers and restaurant staff, and will jump in quickly (and often very harshly) to “reprimand” anyone he feels is being an ass, whether it be another customer or his own team mates. Has gotten into a fistfight with Hidan twice over some of the more lewd things he’s said to waitresses, one of which got the whole group banned from that particular place. Doesn’t like desserts but will ask both Itachi and Konan what THEY would get for dessert, orders both things, and gives it to them.

Itachi

Like Kisame, dining out isn’t really his deal, but will go every now and then when the “persuasion” of the others wears him down (Deidara: You antisocial asshole; are you too good to spend time with us or what, hm?!). Prefers places that are small and dimly lit; bright lights hurts his eyes immensely and he’s never been comfortable in large crowds of people. A trick his father taught him when he was younger was that, when eating in a public place, always go with somebody you can trust to keep an eye on the entrance for possible enemies; so Itachi will always sit in a spot where he’s facing the door, to protect the rest of the group. Eats his food slower than the others (everyone thinks it’s because he savors his meal but really it’s because he has trouble seeing it), and, like Tobi, is a bigger fan of desserts than the entree. Also has a thing with napkins; will sit and tear one napkin up into dozens of tiny strips while the others talk to each other, or sometimes shows off Konan’s origami lessons by turning them into little flowers or birds. Hidan gets easily annoyed by him because Hidan flirts mercilessly with every female in sight — but Itachi simply sits there quietly and has every female in the restaurant staring at him with wide eyes and lovesick faces. Hasn’t once left a restaurant without being asked out by at least 3 women (all of whom be very politely turns down, but still).

[elsewhereuniversity]

Come live in ___ ____ next year!

Katya here. I thought I’d post this here, in case anyone wants to apply to live in ___ ____ next year.

I’m a Russian and Politics major—I got involved with the rusalka-selkie incident last year and it opened my eyes to the other side of the University. The rest of my hall didn’t and they remain blissfully unaware. As a cohort we decided to live in ___ ____ together, practice our language abilities and all that.

___ ____ is shaped like an ‘E’. The middle prong is the dining hall, which is open only at lunch. English is forbidden within. It’s full of round tables, with a handful of longer rectangular ones for Spanish (there’s more of them than the rest of us). The tables are marked out with little flags which doesn’t stop the French from trying to invade Russia (they’re famously bad at noticing the difference between broad vertical stripes and thinner horizontal ones). I’m the only one of my friends who seems to notice the smaller table in the back by the broken piano. The flags are of each of the courts and there’s always a representative of each. I’ve stayed away but I think it gets used as neutral ground for negotiations. The students sitting there always have plastic utensils or finger-food instead of the usual metal. Then again there’s three or four students (one of the Wrens, Polyglot, Bibli and sometimes Aspen) who are there every day and whenever I walk by to get to the plate return it sounds like a fourth-grade orchestral class—it was very squeaky early on and now it’s much more melodic in a way that makes me want to go to sleep and that gets annoying given I’ve got class right after lunch.

Also… the dining hall is only supposed to be open at lunch but every other Tuesday unless it’s a full moon there’s some kind of gathering you can see if you look through the glass side walls side on around two am. I don’t know what group on campus wears tree bark and leaves but some of them have antlers and I’m not entirely sure that they’re artificial. The day after the salad always tastes earthier. I can’t quite tell if it’s truly safe to eat.

As for the rest of the building: it’s confusing. It’s confusing even if you can’t see the otherness. The long bit and the turns are two stories, but the ends of the first and last prongs are three stories and there’s a basement with the laundry rooms that connects the whole building. The bits that are three stories are set off from the two-story bits, so that the second floor of the three floor bit is one flight down from the second floor of the two story bit and one flight up from the first floor of it. [There’s another floor on top of the last prongs’ three-story bit no one seems to notice. Whenever I pause and look up the hallway light always flickers and I hear a whisper in my head that shouldn’t be there. I’ve got no intention of going up. I suspect the iron looking stair rail and gate blocking it off were put there for a reason.

Rooms are organized by language—there’s only a certain number of rooms allotted for each so you’re going to have to fill out the applications. They’re perfectly normal but if you stick a faint drawing the alchemical symbol for iron in the lower right corner you might increase your chances. They like to know that there’s at least one person per language who can keep the others out of trouble, just in case. The main benefit is that everyone has their own room and two people share closet space and a bathroom. You can lock the door between the two rooms even! Though you’re best off supplementing the locks if you don’t trust your suitemate—they’re quite easy to undo.

The larger languages have their own common rooms (some with attached kitchens) and are fiercely protective of them. You do not want to invade the Russian common room. The air conditioner tends to start… malfunctioning, one could say. There was one group of French boys who tried to stick it out (why they couldn’t just use their own damn common room…) and the pipes in the kitchen nearly froze and burst. We had to call maintenance and send them off to student health to deal with their frostbitten toes. Better than the Spanish room… those poor German students had to deal with mosquitos for weeks.

It’s a fun place to live! I don’t mean to scare you. As long as you learn the routes and avoid the furnace room you’ll be fine! The routes don’t move around at all, unlike some dorms I could name, they’re just a little less than straightforward to begin with.  And the furnace room is all the way in the basement, so just don’t wander too far from the laundry rooms. The smell from the last chap who got lost stunk up the whole lower level for weeks.

Anyway, I won’t be around or I’d offer some freely given help in learning the building. I’m off to Russia next year on study abroad. Fingers crossed I don’t run afoul of Baba Yaga. Ralitsa promised to introduce me to a domovoi she knows which will hopefully keep me out of too much trouble. Do let me know if you want application help though!

P.S. ___ ____ appears to just be an effect of each language using a different term for the dorm. I don’t think it’s a otherness problem… but someone might want to check into that.

x