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wide-eyedscottishlass · 3 years

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Scarlett and the Professor

moodboard by @strangelock221b

[continued from]

Following her watery lesson in the bathtub—in which her insatiable lover had proven his endurance matched perfectly with his dedication to their mutual pleasure—the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of quiet happiness for Scarlett. Once dried and dressed, he had headed back to his study to grade the last of his papers, having instructed her to get herself dressed and promising he would come back to collect her in no longer than twenty minutes. “I think a tour of the manse is in order once I return,” he’d promised, pressing a few lighthearted kisses to the back of her neck as she stood before the bathroom mirror, towel-clad and about to brush out her hair. “And then perhaps we’ll take a little drive to see what other adventures we can get up to.”

And as good as his word, Hennessy had squired her about his home both inside and out, quietly delighting Scarlett with his apparent need to maintain at least some small physical contact with her most of the time. Splaying one hand on the small of her back or draping an arm across her shoulders, and even stealing occasional kisses from her when she least expected it. How heavenly it felt to know by these simple gestures how thoroughly he now considered her to be his own! His surprisingly tender affections proved distracting enough that if asked, Scarlett would not have been rightly able to answer questions about the layout of his home.

Beneath a cloudless, cerulean sky, they strolled through the wild-grown garden that bordered the pool and jacuzzi behind Hennessy’s house. A riot of indigenous plants and flowers grew thick around them; despite her several months on the island, they still struck Scarlett as breathtakingly exotic. Bougainville and anthurium flourished unchecked, along with several species of lily, banana flowers, and hibiscus; the vibrant reds and pinks, golds and oranges, vied for dominance amidst the deep green of the leaves and vines, with splashes of light and dark blues throughout. The center of the garden held an old, marble bench beside a small ornamental pool filled with lotus blossoms. Beyond this private little piece of Eden lay a wide, grassy slope that ended at a hedgerow which ran the length of the property. But for all its tranquil charm, it was clear from his commentary that Hennessy preferred the shingle of white sand beach which she had viewed from his balcony. Scarlett hoped that in time he’d take her there as well.

“Feeling peckish yet?” They were sitting beneath the umbrella of a wrought iron table on the patio near the pool. “I’m famished…how about we grab a bite to eat?”

“I’d like that,” she agreed, game for whatever he had in mind. Hennessy held out his hand to her as she stood up and whisked her along with him to his garage. He continued to play the gentleman, seating her in his sleek, midnight blue convertible and advising her well. “Buckle up, little lamb—I’m feeling the need for speed,” he grinned, slamming shut her door and then taking his place behind the wheel.

Scarlett was shocked to discover that despite being a man who held nearly absolute and steadfast control over every aspect of his life (that she’d observed thus far, anyway), Hennessy drove like a maniac. Though he must’ve known well the curves and dips and swells of the two-lane road from his home and beyond, he took them with an incautious speed and virtual abandon that were quite harrowing. She did her best to keep her eyes set on the road in front of them, making involuntary sounds of distress at his most egregious transgressions, and feeling him sneak peeks her way while chortling at her obvious distress. “Almost there, m’dear,” he laughed as the tires squealed through yet another reckless curve and played havoc with her loose, fishtail braid—so that once they’d reached the little roadside, seafood shack that was their destination, Scarlett had to loose it from it’s binding and run her shaky hands through her hair to set it right.

Once her nerves and stomach had settled, she discovered she was hungry enough to put that harrowing experience behind her–for the time being–and indulge in the bounty which Hennessy has ordered for them, and then laid out on one of the weathered picnic tables behind the small, brightly shingled building. “The best and freshest catches on the island,” he bragged, “Prepared with all the culinary magic only a native chef could provide!” Scarlett found greater pleasure than she might ever have imagined in watching him indulge his ravenous appetite. They feasted upon cornmeal battered shrimp, a crab and curry stew, conch fritters served with a spicy brown rice, pickled mackerel in a thick coconut milk sauce beside fried plantains. At Hennessy’s insistence, she even tried the Bake and Shark with Citrus Chutney, surprising herself that she actually enjoyed it. He was larger than life in everything he did, and she felt a swell of simple affection for him fill her heart, and unabashed gratitude that she was along for this glorious, albeit unpredictable, ride with him.

Afterwards, he surprised her yet again, offering to drive to her flat so she could grab a bathing suit and another change of clothes—indicating that he expected her to stay with him a second night. Even another nerve-wracking drive back to his estate couldn’t dampen her joy at that.

____________________________________________________

The sun glinted off the ripples and waves lapping at the warm, white sand of Hennessy’s beach as he spread out a thick blanket for them to recline upon. Curious gulls flew low, checking for food scraps that so often accompanied the presence of humans in their domain. Scarlett stood where the water just kissed her toes, breathing deep the salty tang of the Atlantic, a scent that often awoke a quiet longing in her heart for home---though she wouldn’t dream of being anywhere in the world right now but at her lover’s side.

A sudden updraft swept through her hair, and the squawks of protest from the sea gulls caught in the rising air current drew her attention away from the ocean and back behind her. Hennessy had one arm crooked and was drawing swirls in the air, that same determined focus on his face as when he’d worked that mysterious water magic as she bathed. He’s clearing the birds away, was her immediate thought; he’s literally stirring the air to send them away! How in hell is this possible? Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet didn’t feel as solid as it should.

He flashed her his ever-charming sideways smile, and held out his free arm to her and he lowered the other and the ‘breeze’ died away. “Come sit with me, Scarlett.” Hennessy’s tone of command was undeniable, and her knees went weak with her need to obey. She took his proffered hand and then settled onto the blanket, not allowing the certainty that she wasn’t the first woman to share it with him here, to dull the pleasant anticipation that he would inevitably be taking here soon in whatever way pleased him best.

Hennessy made their small talk easy for a time, skirting the edges of the questions which he had to know were weighing on her mind, while drawing from her the details of what he certainly must think of as her quaint, little life. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow while Scarlett sat cross-legged and continued to watch the waves lap at the warm sand. As relaxed as she was feeling, she could also feel him watching her as though everything she told him was of great interest---and as if he was in no rush to pursue his pleasure just yet.

The blazing orange disk of the sun had sunk lower on the horizon by the time that conversation lapsed, and he finally saw fit to broach the topic that remained foremost in her thoughts. “You’re quite a patient woman, Scarlett. Especially for one so green.” The husk of his voice was as soothing as the rhythm of the waves, and drew her eyes his way. “I’m impressed. You’ve held your tongue all these hours about something I know you must be bursting to ask about.”

Scarlett shrugged and gave a wee smile. “My Mam always taught me that patience was a virtue—but before he lit out into the wider world to make his fortune, my Da taught me a simpler wisdom…”

“Which was?”

“That I should take a lesson from the Sea, whose patience endures forever. And who always gets want she wants, in the end.”

“Hmmm…wise man, your Da,” Hennessy reflected, “Though he’d have done better by you not to father you in absentia.”

“I suppose so,” she sighed, resolving to keep that quiet pain from tainting this precious time with her teacher, “Though it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

He smiled at her winningly, “You have an apt way of looking at things, m’dear.” He took to his feet as he told her, “And your patience has earned you the answer to the mystery of the afternoon.” Hennessy held out his hand to help her rise up, guided her forward to stand with her toes tucked just beneath the edge of the water again, and then stood behind her, “But first a little demonstration more.”

The sun had dipped almost completely beneath the waves; the air was warm and soft, rife with the night’s possibilities. Scarlet felt, as much as heard, Hennessy draw a deep breath, and in moments saw the seafoam suddenly part around her feet, wetting the sand in a widening circle that left her skin untouched. The circle soon grew to encompass them both, closing behind him.

Scarlett licked her lips, barely able to speak. “It’s real…it really happened. Part of me kept insisting that I dreamed the whole thing, but…but it’s real…”

Hennessy stepped into her and spoke against he ear, making her shiver with his truth, “Very, very real, my sweet. As real as the Sun at it’s zenith. As real as the pull of the Moon upon the tides.”

Though her mouth had gone dry, Scarlett remained undaunted in her need for the full truth. She turned to face him, clear-eyed and ready for whatever he might reveal. “Then how, my jo…tell me how it’s even possible. Please.”

“Oh my dear,” he tutted, “My sweet, innocent girl. Hennessy’s eyes gleamed softly in the dying light. “There is so very much you have left to learn.”

(to be continued)

tagging: @strangelock221b @ravencatart @doctor-stephenstrange @splunge4me2art @ben-locked @ben-c-group-therapy @letterstosherlock @humanbornarchangel @aeterna-auroral-avenger @frowerssx-world @tsukuyomi011 @emilyinnj4real @losille2000 @macgyvershe (as I have a hunch this is just up your alley!)

#my writing #Scarlett and the Professor #romance #magic #Scarlett Campbell.#OFC #OMC #not my OMC and used with permission #Scarlett's Professor #Professor Hennessy #Hennessy

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mrcurrygoestospain · 3 years

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Camino De Santiago - Round 5

Spain travel log, 2021…

Day One:

September 20 - Depart Seattle for Madrid, by way of London. There were plenty of issues just getting to this point. In addition to the ongoing concerns over COVID-19, or perhaps because of them, I had some serious concerns about whether I could and whether I should do this trip at all. In the end, I think I simply realized that it was totally appropriate for me to go on this trip: I’ve been “responsible” and taken the full round of vaccinations, generally avoided social contacts with people and been diligent about the masks. So I made my reservations and thought everything was fine. About 2 weeks before takeoff, I got an email from Iberia that one of my flights had been changed. When I looked into it, I found that it was the connecting flight from London to Madrid and the schedule had been bumped up by about 6 hours taking me from having a 2 hour layover in Heathrow to needing to be on a plane for Madrid 4 hours before I actually landed in London and would be able to board it… It took attempts at phone calls over several days to get this corrected. Finally, I tried while I was at top work one morning around 5:00 am. I finally got through and a nice lady helped rebook my connecting flight. She found the only available flight on that day that would work; now I have a seven hour layover.

I prepped for my trip, checklists and routes planned. I arrived at the airport 3 hours early, just in case. Although I booked with Iberia, it was a British flight. So standing in line at the BA counter in SeaTac, I saw the sign: “All passengers must show proof of a negative COVID test.” What? I’d already checked multiple times; I only need proof of vaccination to get into Spain. I check the internet. Sure enough, if you’re on a layover in England, you need a negative test…A quick Google search helped me find a testing center at SeaTac airport, so I rushed down to baggage claim number nine to see if I could get a test in time. In all honesty, I really thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d have to try to contact the airline again to find a way to reschedule my flight. I stood in the line for what seemed like forever, but finally had the privilege of paying $250 for a rapid COVID test. T- minus 2 hours 30 minutes to departure and they promised results in 1-1.5 hours. The test itself was relatively painless. After all of the horror stories I’d heard about the nasal swabs, I was a bit worried. But it didn’t hurt, it just tickled a little bit. I waited, and waited…it seemed like they would never have my results. While I waited, I heard stories from other travelers who had missed flights or rebooking because of these ridiculous COVID-related requirements. One young Canadian lady I spoke to shared that she’d spent over $1000 on COVID tests in the last month due to traveling. I guess my $250 wasn’t so much.

I finally got my negative test results and rushed back to the check in counter, filled out the required government forms and headed through security. The flight was delayed.

After a nine hour flight to London, I had seven or eight hours to kill in Heathrow Airport, Terminal 5, before boarding my flight to Madrid. I shopped, I ate, I listened to podcasts. I took a few naps and generally cursed British Airways for changing my original flight. Some Italian guy made quite a scene at the boarding gate for the flight to Madrid. The gate agent handled it quite well and passive-aggressively punished him for his demeanor.

I arrived in Madrid after an easy flight on Iberia, made my way to the metro and on to my Hostel. It was a nice enough place. After 28 hours of travel, I was ready for a shower and bed.

Day 2:

On my one day in Madrid, I walked from my hostel/hotel to the Museo Nacional del Prado. It’s Spain’s greatest art museum. This was my second time there and I spent a lot more of it. There are so many amazing pieces and, for someone who used to truly despise art, it was amazing. I highly recommend it. I haven’t been to a whole lot of art museums, but it is, by far, my favorite. I followed that with a walk through the Royal Botanical Gardens. I’m sure they’re great when all of the flowers are blooming, but in early fall, it’s just a lot of green. Either way, it was still peaceful. I visited another nearby park, walked around and viewed the statues, and then made my way back towards the hotel and passed it to go to the Cathedral opposite the royal palace. It’s a much more modern cathedral than the ones I’ll see on the Camino, but still impressive.

Day 3:

On the morning of the third day, I got up early and got packed. Took the metro to the train station and purchased a ticket to Leon. After two hours on the train, I took a 20 minute walk to the hotel and dropped off my bag, and then spent the next few hours wandering the city. I found a barber and got a haircut for 9 Euro, quite a bargain. Stopped at the “Taste of America” shop to get a bottle of hot sauce (Cholula, of course), and just meandered around the city until I could get checked in at the hotel. It was a pretty uneventful day, which is just what I needed. I was still very tired from all of the traveling and trying to swap schedules.

Day 4:

I got up late, around 8:00 AM and started walking the city. I stopped for a cafe con leche and met a Scottish couple who had been walking the Camino for the last few weeks. While we waited out the rain under cover, the shared with me some of their other walking adventures, including tales of walking through the Swiss Alps on the Via Francigena, a pilgrimage route to Rome. I may have to look into that for a future trip. I also shared with them my plans/considerations of taking a walk on the “Great Glen Way” in Scotland. The wife had already done this and highly recommended it, along with the West Highland Way. Both are approximately 5-day walks through some of the wild country of Scotland. When the rain let up, we parted ways and I went to tour the Cathedral, toured the Basilica of Saint Isidore and wandered around town, shopping and eating. Inside the Saint Isidore museum and basilica, i had the opportunity to see what is referred to as the “Sistine Chapel of Romanesque Art” as well as a gold and silver cup that some historians claim is the “holy grail.”

Day 5:

Didn’t sleep much…I forgot how much they like to party in Spain. It was LOUD all night long. Anyway, started my walk. Today was about 27 km and it rained through about 50% of the day. It was a mix of roads and dirt tracks. I only saw one other pilgrim, a Spaniard who doesn’t speak any English. I got ahead of him and had stopped for a rest at a picnics table on top of a mountain. He showed up a few minutes behind me and I tried to chat for a minute, but the language barrier…. I offered him half of my tangerine and then he took off again. I passed him up later. I had been slightly worried about where to stay for the night as the municipal albergue in this province/state are currently closed due to the ‘Rona, but when I got to town I found a pension with rooms available. The lovely lady named Susana showed me to a room and also worked tirelessly to make me a reservation for the following night. I hadn’t eaten much for the day, so I ordered big: hot dog and patatas oil bravas. Patatas bravas is a traditional dish in Spain which is made of fried potatoe cubes that are covered in a (typically) spicy tomato sauce. Potatoes Ali Oli are the same fried potatoes but with a garlic cream sauce instead of the spicy sauce. This one combined both sauces. It was nice. The inside of the restaurant/bar/cafe was very loud with a bunch of men playing a card game I’m not familiar with, so I went outside to have a beer. An older Spaniard, named Hilario, came out and started trying to talk to me. I explained that I am American and I don’t speak much Spanish, but he disagreed. So he went inside and got another man, a Hungarian who had been in Spain for the last 25 years, named Fernanco(?) who was extremely drunk, to come out and talk to me. He was so drunk, he introduced himself as “muy borracho” or “very drunk” and the proceeded to tell me that he used to be a muy Thai fighter and a coal miner and now he was just a fat drunk who collected money from the government because he got hit in the head too many times. At least I THINK that’s what they were saying…. I went to bed early to get a good rest and let my aching feet and hips recover before a long day tomorrow….from La Robla to Poladura, should be about 25km or so with some very intense climbs. We’ll see.

I’m currently on the Camino San Salvador, which is a route from Leon to Oviedo. They say “whoever goes to Santiago without visiting Oviedo, goes to the servant but not to the Lord.” This is because Oviedo is famous for having a specific relic. While most people are aware of the Shroud of Turin, which is the burial cloth of Jesus, many don’t know (including me, until recently) that traditional Jewish burial included placing a cloth over the face of the deceased immediately after death and until the body was prepared for burial. This cloth would then be removed and the full-body cloth would be applied. So anyway, this Cathedral boasts possession of the face covering that was placed over Jesus’ head, likely immediately after the spear pearled his side and before he was brought down off of the cross. Once I complete the Camino San Salvador (about 5 days, I hope), I will continue on to the Camino Primitivo, one of the many Camino’s de Santiago. So the Camino San Salvador goes to the relics of Christ and the Camino Santiago (Santiago = Saint James) goes to the resting place and remains of Saint James (the major), also known as “Santiago Matamoros” or “Saint James the Moor Slayer”, the patron saint of Spain.

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years

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See I think the problem is sweden is just.. cold amshnsdhdj we can’t really grow spices here so throughout the times it’s just been salt and pepper (until we started importing spice from the colonies like we thought we were the brits lmao) but traditional swedish food is like??? Potatoes and meatballs with lingonberry jam and sometimes you make the sauce out of the fat you fried the meatballs in and it’s gross. I’ve never been to Germany actually but that restaurant sounds disgusting I’m so sorry what are they doingggg. THANKFULLy we have so much food imported from pretty much everywhere that most people’s favourite foods is almost always something that didn’t originate here. Like tacos!! It’s a staple in pretty much any household here, at least where I grew up, and one of my friends is obsessed with Indian food, specifically vindaloo which is so so spicy but so good. As for the cream cheese sushi, at the restaurant here they put it in the maki rolls with veggies and a piece of omelet, i cannot stress how good it is ahaha. I love food so much!!! I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything Brazilian specifically, but since we’re talking about it I’m really curious. If you have a specific dish or anything you think I should try let me know!! I’m gonna ask google but it’s always fun to get tips from someone who is living with the culture behind it and everything!! - salmon anon (salmnon? salmanon? Swenson? I actually wrote swenon but my phone corrected me so I’m leaving it skhdkshd)

aaaa okay so when it comes to brazilian food you gotta understand that there’s...... so much stuff. our cuisine is super varied and rich and there’s just... a lot. so it all depends on what strikes your fancy. but i have a few suggestions, although keep in mind that again, brazilian cuisine is varied and rich and it’s a big country, so i have the mos contact with food from my region (the southeast), although i’ve been to the northeast, north, and south as well

so the basis of culinary in most brazilian households is the rice + beans + farofa combo. farofa is basically cassava flour with spices, it is made to add Big Crunch to the meal. we eat that in every meal, except for breakfast. it’s kinda the foundation/pillar of the plate. i do recommend trying it, absolutely. the most likely version of that for you to find is feijoada, which is a little stereotypical as far as brazilian dishes go, but i doubt you’d find regular rice beans and farofa around in a small town in sweden. in feijoada the beans come with pork parts, and it’s black beans, not regular beans. it is also traditionally served with kale and orange slices. it’s really good, personally i love it

[image ID: a plate with kale, rice, farofa (which is sandy-colored and has a grainy consistency), orange slices, and feijoada. end ID]

another great dish worth a try is moqueca. moqueca is (usually) fish/shrimp, coconut milk, dendê oil, bell peppers, and other spices. it takes cilantro so if you are a little bitch, i mean, if you don’t like it, you might skip that one. it is also usually served with farofa or pirão, which is essentially farofa but moist

[image ID: a pot of moqueca. it looks soup-like and has very vibrant colors, particularly red, yellow, ad green. you can see pieces of bell pepper and chopped cilantro in it. end ID]

i do recommend trying anything palm-heart related if you haven’t. palm heart pies are one of my favorite things. and okay i know that you probably won’t be able to find this but i doubt you’ll be able to find most things i’m talking about so i’m just gonna dream big here: catupiry is this kind of brazilian... cream cheese, except it’s creamier and tastier and just superior in general. we love putting it on shit, and when it comes to stuffing, palm heart + catupiry or chicken + catupiry are my favorites

i also love bobó de palmito na moranga, which is essentially palm heart inside very creamy squash. the most common version actually takes shrimp instead of palm heart, but i don’t like shrimp and they’re not super accessible in my city anyway lol

[image ID: a carved pumpkin with shrimp swimming in a creamy mixture of squash, coconut milk, and catupiry inside. end ID]

escondidinho is another great dish. it means “little hidden one” in portuguese and it is cassava puree with dried meat inside, gratinated. there’s also a version with mashed potatoes, ground beef, and tomato sauce, but cassava is better. honestly just go for anything cassava. it’s the basis of native brazilian culinary and it’s fucking delicious. fried cassava, roasted cassava, cassava puree.... if you’ve never had them, they’re like potatoes, but better in every way. and don’t get me wrong, cuz i love potatoes

anything from the state of minas gerais FUCKS and is highly recommendable. tutu de feijão might look bad for a gringo but i promise it’s worth a try. feijão tropeiro is amazing, and chicken with okra is one of my fave brazilian dishes. it’s also easy to make so you can make it at home, even. just don’t forego the rice beans and farofa. my eastern european friend had never seen okra so if you look it up, no, that is not pepper. it’s not spicy. seriously i know yall are afraid of everything but it’s not

as for snacks! one of the greatest institutions in brazil is coxinha. coxinha is a potato-based batter stuffed with chicken (and usually catupiry as well although coxinha without catupiry is also commonly found) and deep fried. you cannot have a kids party and not serve it, it is absolutely essential. but it is also eaten as a regular snack commonly. it is super good, everyone loves it, and i highly recommend

[image ID: a plate of coxinhas. they are round-ish thingies with a “beak” on top, making it look almost like a pyramid. they are orange-golden in color and have a distinctly deep fried texture. end ID]

another great institution is pão de queijo, which i’ll admit i’m not a fan of because i don’t like cheese (catupiry doesn’t count) but i can’t just forego mentioning it. it takes polvilho, which is tapioca (which is a derivation of cassava, i’ll get there in a minute) flour, with cheese, basically. it gets a fluffy consistency that is hard to describe and that many people love. it is most traditional in the state of minas gerais, but you can find it all over brazil and also in other places in south america although recipes vary

[image ID: a bowl of pão de queijo. they are small, round, and white-ish. they have a very thin hard-looking layer on the exterior, but it also has cracks that make you able to see that the inside is fluffy. end ID]

tapioca! you might have heard of tapioca as the bubbles in bubble tea are made of it. it is a kind of cassava flour, but it’s very different from the cassava flour used to make farofa. it is white in color. you just put that motherfucker in a frying pan (no oil needed) and the grains stick to each other, making a sort of... taco-like thing? it doesn’t taste like a taco but it looks slightly like one. then you just stuff it with Whatever You Want. can be savory or sweet, personally i prefer savory but the "classic” one is coconut and condensed milk. another good stuffing to try is what we call romeu e julieta (literally “romeo and juliet”), which is a cheese that we know as queijo minas, but if you have contact with mexican food you might know as queso fresco, and guava paste. i know it sounds weird which is why it has the name as these two things are not supposed to be together but they go WELL together. romeu e julieta is a common dessert and the basis for thousands and thousands of other recipes in brazil

[image ID: a plate with tapioca. it has the form of a taco, but the “batter” is thinner and white. the inside is coconut and condensed milk. end ID]

speaking of tapioca, DADINHO DE TAPIOCA (tapioca dice) is where shit’s at. it is tapioca flour with cheese rolled into a dice format and fried, served with pepper jam, altho you can forego it, but i DO recommend trying it with the pepper jam. it is not super spicy and so so very good. don’t waste an opportunity to try it

[image ID: dadinhos de tapioca. they are small cubic snacks with a golden color and granulated-looking texture. there is also a little bowl with pepper jam in it. end ID]

and an ESSENTIAL brazilian institution: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a flour-based batter with a bit of cachaça (sugarcane liquor) stuffed with Whatever You Want (most common tho are ground beef, and cheese. but personally i’m always a slut for palm heart and there’s a local pizza place near my home that also makes pastel with whatever flavor you could possibly want and broccoli with catupiry pastel? PEAK) and deep fried. it is kinda big for a snack but bro it is so very good. and then we usually have it with caldo de cana, which is sugarcane juice. now, caldo de cana is very sweet, so personally i like to put a little bit of lemon in it, which is how we usually make it in the state of São Paulo, but other states lowkey look down on that (brazilians as a whole have a sweet tooth, many of our desserts are Really Sweet) but they are wrong and we are right. anyway, pastel and caldo de cana are usually served at street markets, so once you are done with your groceries, you can sit down and enjoy some. highly recommended altho again i’ll be surprised if you can find any in sweden. but pastel is not hard to make! caldo de cana is tho, you have to have kind of a machine to extract the juice from it

[image ID: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a long, golden-colored, thin rectangle with, in this case, cheese inside. caldo de cana is of a brownish-green with a regular juice consistency. end ID]

onto desserts! an all-time brazilian favorite is brigadeiro. that is condensed milk, butter, and cocoa with chocolate sprinkles, essentially. i recommend using dark chocolate as it is otherwise really sweet but it depends on your tastes. do try it tho

[image ID: brigadeiros. they are little balls completely covered in chocolate sprinkles, each places in a smal paper holder. end ID]

romeu in julieta as i already mentioned is very popular and seriously, give it a try

if you’re into sweet stuff, try rapadura, which is our version of piloncillo. it is like 90% sugar tho so seriously, you gotta like sweets

pé de moleque, which literally translates to “boy’s foot”, is rapadura and roasted peanuts, and it’s one of my all time favorite desserts

[image ID: a plate of pé de moleque. they are thick rectangles with almost entire roasted peanuts parts stuck together by a rich brown sort of batter - rapadura. end ID]

paçoca is also grounded peanuts with a little bit of salt and sugar, usually coming in a cork format. they are absolutely amazing and i can’t recommend them enough

[image ID: paçoca. it literally just looks like a small cork, even the color is similar. looks like something totally underwhelming but i promise you it’s so so very good and worth a try. end ID]

and okay i think that’s what i have!! at least off the top of my head (yeah that’s just what i came up with off the top of my head. like i said. brazilian cuisine is RICH) sorry for the gigantic answer that is probably not very helpful, but welp, now you know what to look for, at least lol also if you’ve followed me for over a year you should have known i would do this. BITCH I’M LATINO FOOD MATTERS TO ME

#brazilian food is delicious i promise promise promise you that you won't regret trying it #if you do try it let me know what you tried and your thoughts!!! seriously it is so rich and good it's impossible not to find something #you'll love #ask #long post #food #swenon

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maine-writes · 4 years

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23. Return of Bloodstone

"My blood! My precious blood!" Vonvon screamed, as actual blood dripped from their skin. The whole of the child was coated in the warm, viscous, plasma, resembling a cascading waterfall. They writhed on the ground, twitching and crying in pain.

Standing over them was Spinel, her giant gloved hand clenched into a bloodied fist, a spatter of blood on their cheek.

But how did this happen? What unfortunate series of events brought the child to this unhappy end?

It all began in Mayor Ronaldo Fryman's home. He was in his study, a basement den converted into a place where he would obsess over some perceived conspiracy, staring at his wall of clandestinely taken pictures, newspaper clippings, and hastily scribbled notes, connected by lengths of colored yarn and pins to a picture of Vonvon Maheswaran-Universe.

"This kid is a quarter alien rock person." The mayor muttered, staring at the picture. "Which means their blood is mostly human, but with alien elements. If I can get ahold of their blood, I can use my vast mayoral resources to create a serum to make myself part alien!"

His maniacal laughter was a common, and annoying, occurence, so his neighbors often yelled out their window for him to shut up. Today was no exception.

Vonvon and Stevonnie were wandering the boardwalk, enjoying ice-cold snacks. Ronaldo spied on them from a seemingly mundane, yet terribly out-of-place bush through a telescoping periscope.

"Alien Research Log: 4." He whispered into a tape recorder. "The target is guarded by the tall, hot one, a previous specimen of interest. Found out they're full-human now, can't make serum from their blood."

He watched as the pair were accosted by Kevin, who Stevonnie then knocked out with a shaved-ice to the face. Ronaldo watched in horror as the pair took the unconscious man to the Pizza Car, violently shoving him into the trunk, and driving off.

"Supplemental: Postpone until tomorrow." He stuttered. "I think I just witnessed a murder."

A week later, Ronaldo spotted Vonvon again, this time at Fish Stew Pizza. The child was happily enjoying a slice of spicy anchovy pizza, extra tomato sauce.

He watched the child from afar, sitting at a table on the opposite side of the restaurant.

"Hey Mayor Ronaldo!" Jenny said as she approached his table. "What I can I get for you today? The usual vegan sausage and sage pizza?"

"Quiet!" He replied in a hushed tone. "I'm trying to do some important research. And yes, I'll have the usual."

"Research? Oh, one of your weird crazy obsessions. Ok."

After an hour, Vonvon suspiciously snuck out the back door of the restaurant, looking around with obviously shifty eyes. Naturally, Ronaldo followed after them.

In the parking lot behind Fish Stew Pizza, he witnessed a strange confrontation between Vonvon and Spinel, the magenta gem.

"Prepare to meet your doom, hybrid!" Yelled Spinel, lifting up a giant, pink fist. Suddenly, the fist came crashing down onto the hapless child, like a great hammer. Blood splattered all around, spraying onto the side of the building, Spinel, and wide-eyed Ronaldo. When Spinel lifted her fist, she left a concave pit in the asphalt, with Vonvon writhing in pain within.

"My blood! My precious blood!" Cried the child, bleeding from every imaginable part of their body.

Ronaldo quickly ran over to the child and scooped up some blood, of which there was no shortage, in a glass vial.

"Success!" He announced, raising the vial up high. "I will finally become Bloodstone, Hero of Delmarva!"

The mad mayor then scampered away, laughing maniacally.

As he disappeared into the distance, Vonvon stood up in the pit.

"Thanks Spinel." They said, wiping the blood off their face with a towel.

"That weirdo's been following you for four weeks for your blood?"

"Yeah, he think it'll make him magical or something." The child explained. They were a little disappointed their green hoodie was ruined.

"Is this actual blood?" Spinel asked, lookung around at the mess. "Where'd you get it?"

"Onion had a bunch lying around." The answer only created more questions, but Spinel felt it was better not knowing.

"Anyways, let's clean this up. The Pizza's would kill me if they found this."

Little did the child know, Jenny and Kiki did know. It was caught on the security cameras. Most of it. All they saw was the child getting crushed by Spinel's giant hand before the camera was covered in blood. So when the police arrived at the Maheswaran Residence that night to arrest Spinel, they both had a lot of explaining to do.

Shortly afterward, it was announced that the mayor was unable to make public appearances due to food poisoning.

@artsycooky13

#a blood story of murder and madness #VonvonMonth2020 #the most violent story in the collection #Vonvon and Spinel got a lecture from the Maheswarans and Stevonnie #in this story Spinel lives in the closet with Pink Steven and Stevonnie has the couch #Vonvon has Connies old room

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withabackpackandcamera · 4 years

Photo

September 16th, 2020

Day 3: A Full Day of Hikes and Lights

Today was our designated Denali National Park hiking day, especially after we weren’t able to squeeze one in before nightfall yesterday. To fuel ourselves for it, we got some extra sleep because we didn’t wake up super early to hike and we ate our leftover flatbread from last night. Both great decisions. By the time we actually checked out of the lodge, the weather did us a favor and cleared up and was looking pretty good, with little bits of blue sky actually visible in between the heavy layer of clouds.

On our way to the park, I made a couple of quick roadside stops to take some photos of the area. Not too long afterward, we were back in Denali National Park. We first made a stop at the Visitor Center to talk to the rangers about some different hiking route options before ultimately heading to the Mountain Vista Trailhead to hike the Savage Alpine Trail. This hike was essentially a 4+2 mile hike (meaning that we would hike through the alpine landscape for 4 miles before hiking 2 miles back along the main road to our car to close the hiking loop) that would take us up around 1,500ft in elevation gain. And the hike was gorgeous with superb weather. We couldn’t have lucked out any more than we did. The hike itself was a slow, winding hike through beautiful landscapes that were ever-changing as we ascended. Most of the hike was under the partly cloudy sky, providing great views all around. There were great colors and great views of the Alaskan Range. During some parts of the hike, especially along the ridge, we even got glimpses of Mount Denali (though it wasn’t entirely free of clouds)! What a treat! Because of all of our stops for photos, videos, rest, and views, it took us around 4 hours to hike through the beautiful landscape and get to Savage River. Once there, we pulled out our Lunchables (which we had brought as snacks and not a meal) to re-energize ourselves before leisurely hiking back up the main road to our car.

Because Cynthia had some business to take care of that required access to cellular data, we drove back to the Visitor Center briefly. Even though we had hiked for 4+ hours already, it was still relatively early in the afternoon and we wanted to make the most of our time in Denali with good weather. So, before closing out the day, we went on another short hike near the entrance of the park called Horseshoe Loop Trail. This 2-mile hike wasn’t strenuous at all. We essentially walked down to the observation area to view Horseshoe Lake below before descending further to lake level. At that point, we wandered along the trail and through the trees and managed to find views of the Nenana River and Beaver Dam. But little did we know that the first path that we took wasn’t actually the entire trail. On the way back, we found the real trail and took that trail and looped around Horseshoe Lake back to the Nenana River before turning back to the car as the sunlight was fading. Oh, and I must mention that there were TONS of mosquitoes along the trail as we hiked around Horseshoe Lake. I mean LOTS of mozzies.

We reached our car around sunset or so but given how heavy the clouds were in the area, I decided not to go all the way back into the park for sunset photos and instead decided to start our 2 hour trip up to Fairbanks. As we drove through the fall colors of interior Alaska, we had great views of the sunset as it went from nothing but clouds to full of color and warmth, with very colorful oranges and reds exploding across the sky until 9pm or so.

Once we arrived in Fairbanks, we grabbed some quick fast food dinner (Subway for Cynthia and McDonald’s and their new Spicy Chicken Nuggets with their new hot dipping sauce and a McDouble for me) to quickly fill our bellies before it got too late. By the time we made it to our AirBnB, our hosts had already called it a day so we didn’t see them and let ourselves in.

After eating our food and cleaning up, we started to look at tomorrow’s plans. And just as I was starting to look into things to do in Fairbanks, I got side tracked by the crazy idea of chasing the auroras tonight, even though we had spent an entire day hiking and it was getting late in the night. But I found myself looking up the night’s forecast and the aurora forecast with it. Based on what I had found, there seemed to be a slim chance of catching the Northern Lights tonight. But we went out to try seeing them anyways because the whole reason we drove up to Fairbanks at all was to give Cynthia every opportunity to see the auroras.

I looked at a couple locations just outside of town to find the best viewpoints for the auroras and decided that we would check out Cleary Summit Aurora Viewing Area, located about 30 minutes outside of Fairbanks. We didn’t want to go too far but we also didn’t want to be stuck in the city lights trying to view the northern lights. So I drove us out there and before long, we were sitting in our car in a dirt parking lot with other hopeful and eager Northern Lights spectators parked around us. It took awhile for the sky conditions to become optimal as dense clouds heavily blanketed the sky above us. But we waited and waited. Eventually, the clouds started to lift just a little, enough that I was able to somewhat discern possible shades of off-gray that could possibly be the auroras. And I only knew what I was looking for after my short time and experience in Iceland and Norway with the auroras back a few years ago. So I took my camera, changed the settings, and pointed it at the sky from the car. Click. The shutter opened and a couple seconds later, it closed. And tada! There was some green light in the sky! The auroras! The very elusive auroras were visible on our first try!

With evidence that the Northern Lights were indeed active tonight, I adjusted my eyes while also telling Cynthia about the trick to viewing weaker auroras in the sky. After we adjusted our eyes for some time and the clouds started to lift, we started to see more and more auroras in the sky. Eventually, the activity became high enough that we could see gray-ish, cloud-like lights slowly dance across the sky above us! At this point in the night, people were coming and leaving because they probably didn’t know what they were looking for. Some people actually came to me to figure out what they were supposed to be looking for and what they were expected to see. I kindly passed my knowledge and experience along to them as I stood there with camera and tripod in hand ready to capture some shots. We stayed out at the viewing site for a little more than 3 hours because I wanted to give the auroras a chance to get even better and more spectacular. And it did! Even though it never became super green to the naked eye, the activity level of the northern lights got to the point where we could see the lights flickering across the sky, something I didn’t at all expect during our trip given how difficult it is to time the auroras to good weather and good fortune. But wow, three hours that were well-worth the wait!

Eventually, the lights started to die down and become less dynamic. It was at this point that I called it a night with a sleeping Cynthia in the passenger seat. I drove us back into town while catching up with my dad on the phone before eventually arriving at our AirBnB sometime past 3:30am. Whew, what a night out!

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. Alaska is home to 16 of the U.S.’s national parks and accounts for nearly 2/3 of the acreage of all the national parks combined! Wowzers! That’s humongous!

2. There are very few trails in Denali National Park and Preserve. The reason is because the park service wants to keep the area there as pure as possible and give people the opportunity to try off-trail and backcountry hiking.

3. Mosquitoes are the real deal in Alaska. We had read about all the mosquito issues people have in the summer and expected to avoid them altogether in mid-September but boy were they swarming in the damp, moist areas around Horseshoe Lake. Luckily, no bites.

4. Alaska has some of the prettiest fall colors I’ve ever seen. It seems as if there are way more and way denser forests of aspens in Alaska compared to what I’ve seen in the many parts of Colorado I’ve visited during the fall. It’s amazing! And when you drive (for example, from Denali to Fairbanks), it feels as if you’re driving through a tunnel of gold!

5. The northern lights are definitely viewable in Alaska in September! But as always, the weather and solar flare radiation from the sun must both be optimal in order for the auroras to be visible to the naked eye. Always temper your expectations when trying to view the lights as you don’t want to be too disappointed if you don’t catch them. However, you should always give aurora searching a shot. Even if it’s a cloudy or rainy evening.. Even when the forecasts say nothing will be visible or that there’s a low chance… You just never know because the conditions change so quickly. Always, always give it a try. Go out into the darkness and look up (and/or shoot your camera upwards if you have one) and you may not be disappointed. But remember, patience is key! Also key are the following websites I found very useful for aurora viewing in Alaska, especially Fairbanks:

a. https://www.gi.alaska.edu/monitors/aurora-forecast (University of Alaska Fairbanks Geophysical Institute’s Aurora Forecast Page (Note: You can access live camera view in (b) from here))

b. https://allsky.gi.alaska.edu/#page-tonight (Live Camera View of Night Skies at Poker Flat Research Range, AK)

c. https://www.swpc.noaa.gov (NOAA’s Space Weather Prediction Center)

d. https://www.explorefairbanks.com/explore-the-area/aurora-season/aurora-tracker/# (Explore Fairbanks’ Aurora Tracker)

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theeloquentdon · 4 years

Text

kimchi bokkeumbap; kimchi fried rice

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuum. Ok, so ngl I don’t know too much about Korean food and this was the first Korean dish I ever made but it was SOOOO tasty and comforting. Definitely backing a further exploration of Korean dishes. This all came about because one of my very kind and generous classmates made our whole class kimchi and even sealed it in this super profesh packaging with the ziplock and everything. This time round, I felt like rather than just eating the kimchi straight out the pack which is always 100% the most tempting thing to do, I would commit to the kimchi long haul and actually cook something with it. I was super tired though, so thought kimchi fried rice would be a solid compromise between cooking and not having to stretch myself tooooo much.

I had to buy gochujang, which is maybe the most intriguing and possibly even my new favourite ingredient as it blends the spiciness of red chilis with the salty-savoury tanginess of fermented soybean, glutinous rice and salt. In its final and ~perfected~ state, it has this spicy earthiness that bears some semblance to sriracha but with BASS. and not simply... just BASS... but BASS FOR DAYS. I wasn’t actually going to buy the gochujang though because I thought I would have to go to Loo Fung which is MISSIONS and as I said, I was tired. HOWEVER, HOWEVER, I got off the bus from work on Barking Road and had to go shops to get some milk and just chanced upon Miah’s Oriental Foods, a specialist shop literally 5 mins away from home that sells anything and everything I could ever need and for pretty cheap! I actually found the variety of things I could buy - and so locally - completely shocking. This shop is amazing. Actually, the cluster of shops on this part of Barking Road (where the giant specialist Doctor Who shop is lol) are all pretty sick and unique. In addition to shops already mentioned, there’s Newham Bookshop, the Q in Food Centre which is one of those standard international (mostly Turkish/East European) supermarkets that also sell fresh Turkish bread/pastries, Boleyn Cinema (which exclusively plays South Asian cinema), the Boleyn Tavern (which was apparently visited by Gandhi in 1931 and is currently being refurbished with guidance from the Victorian Society, which is very awesome) and many more, with the World Cup Sculpture just a few minutes away. And that’s just a small bit of Barking Road... let alone the rest of it and the phenomena that is Green Street next to it. Big up Newham!

Anyway, back to the bokkeumbap - so this was one night I devoted to just chilling, I realised that I couldn’t remember the last time I had ~ just chilled ~ so I decided to FINALLY watch Parasite (and also after that like... a seasons worth of The Good Place where at some point I sadly passed out) so this dish had to be good. I had to make the rice from scratch which unfortunately does not suit fried rice very well, as it’s best if the rice is a bit stale and dry but oh well. The recipe I used advised me to massage the rice with sesame oil, so that was ... definitely an experience. I’m sure you can picture my impatient ass massaging this rice that is literally burning me, my hands an oily rice-laden scalding mess. But alas, it’s like they say, no bees no honey. (I actually don’t think I have ever heard anyone say that)

Another interesting step was having to for real juice the kimchi. As you want to be able to brown the kimchi cabbage (like onions), the best thing to do is juice it first and then pour the juices on the rice later. So yeah, litch had to juice 1/4 cups worth of kimchi juice from the kimchi. This is what it looked like. Very nice. To this, I mixed in the gochujang and soy sauce.

The cooking process begins when you take the sorry looking lifeless kimchi that U literally CHOKED to death and start frying it in the pot. Like you can actually see the green of the cabbage again which is like a weird modern-day-consumer-divorced-from-the-realities-of-production type of reality shock like o u were an actual vegetable before you became kimchi, hello....... (Obviously in some part of my brain, I knew kimchi was made of cabbage but sometimes you don’t properly deep it... like you deep it on surface level, but not properly because like many products you buy, you didn’t play any part in the production process, you just bought it ready made from the shop so there’s just a disconnect... the dumbest way this played out was me googling ‘kimchi and cabbage fried rice recipe’ because I wanted to use the cabbage in my fridge....but obviously nothing come up because who else would be such an IDIOT SANDWICH ? No one. that’s who.)

After the kimchi turns that sexy brown à la Maillard, you kinda do your toppings thing. I added mushrooms of course, I think I have actually added mushrooms to every (non-South Asian) recipe I have cooked you know... and if I haven’t I bet I wanted to. I also added tofu, spring onions and toasted seaweed, and then at the end I added toasted sesame seeds. Then in goes the rice and after that, the kimchi juice-gochujang alliance. The medley of smells from the kimchi, gochujang and sesame oil all frying so intensely together was a really rewarding experience. I think I have always felt so insecure about cooking out of my comfort zone, and especially East Asian foods because the methods and ingredients are so different and a bit confusing, but I am beginning to realise that........... it’s really not that deep and I can just figure it out and learn as I go. And there is literally a wealth of really useful websites. And youtube. duh.

So, on the first day I cooked it I decided to eat it with fried egg. The bokkeumbap came out a little bit mushy because the rice was too fresh I think.

The next day however, upon reading a tip about how some of the rice should be slightly burnt, when I refried the leftovers I let it sit for a few minutes on a medium heat so the bottom of the rice would burn like some Korean tahdig. It was an excellent tip and switched up the texture in a very big way. I also fried an egg into the mix. I think the fried egg with the yolk oozing into the rice works best though, that oooooooooze, how can you beat that ooze? In Japan, at an izakaya a friend took me to, they literally gave us egg yolk to dip meat into. It was ridiculous. (in the best possible way).

So, all in all, it was really really tasty. I especially loved how the flavours of the gochujang played with and complemented those of the sesame oil, both quite distinct and strong flavours coming through heightening the umami thus making this dish super moreish. I thought that the flavours of the kimchi could have been a bit stronger, and after looking into it, I learnt that when cooking kimchi you should allow it to mature for at least 2-3 months as the flavours become deeper with time. I realised afterwards that the kimchi my classmate had made us was only about a week old! But it was still very delicious. I think my next kimchi adventure will be a kimchi + tofu hot pot...... so stay choooooned.

#london #food diary #food #korea #korean food #kimchi #gochujang #newham #barking road #bokkeumbap #kimchi fried rice

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fordarkisthesuede · 5 years

Text

The Tolls of Justice - Chapter 1

Thank you for all your kind words so far!!! （*’∀’人）♥ I'm slowly reading that nice pile of new TT works you all made! ♥♥♥

(And I’m sorry for the delay,

Important Spoiler Tags: more talk of dead bodies, blood mention, mental illness

{Prologue} {Next Chapter}

Read on AO3 or continue below:

[Chapter 1: A Different Ceiling]

John Doe stared wide-eyed up at the whitewashed ceiling, feeling his breath catch in his chest and release too fast. He could practically hear his heart thudding in his ears like the world’s worst wake-up call.

Where am I? He asked himself.

He turned his head as he tried to breathe slowly. Dull light streamed in through the thin chicken-wire over the window - a standard of mornings in Gotham. There was flat blue paint on the walls, a familiar photograph sitting on a nightstand, a clock (oh, it was 7:20, that was helpful) and a phone there that he wasn’t technically supposed to have.

He snatched the phone off the surface and swiped up, barely paying attention to the illuminated rollercoaster that was his lock-screen. A selfie of himself and Bruce Wayne greeted him, only partially obscured by a couple of icons. He’d taken the picture three days ago, during their last visit; he could see the phone’s little timestamp in the corner, underneath the clock. He took a deep breath and focused on Bruce’s face.

Bruce had worn that really good cologne that day. He could smell it lingering on his own shirt for hours afterward, bringing to mind memories of his short stay at Bruce’s house.

He felt his panic start ebbing away. He wasn’t in Arkham Asylum anymore. He wasn’t in the Old Five Points, either, or the abandoned Funhouse, or Ace Chemicals. He wasn’t dreaming or being delusional or…

John pinched himself and winced slightly at the sharp sting it made in his wrist. Nope, he wasn’t under any kind of drug-based hallucination, either. Just like the day before that, and the week before that, and the fortnight before that.

But his subconscious apparently hadn’t caught up with reality just yet. He kept dreaming of everything else. Everything that could have gone wrong, or everything that did go wrong, but amplified by twenty.

Things should be different now. They were different now. Bruce was fine. John was….well, here.

The halfway house he was in was one of the better ones in the city. It wasn’t the best, of course, considering John’s past...difficulties, but it was better than where he’d ended up last time. There weren’t any bars on his window, his room actually had some color in it that wasn’t just a stain, and the only rat he’d seen so far was outside of the building.

His thumb hovered over the messenger icon on the screen, and he looked at the little digital clock in the corner. Was it too early? Bruce had been on patrol, and he’d already bugged him after one nightmare.

But it was a different one. He’d only dived over the railing towards that bubbling vat of chemical waste before. He’d had that dream before, always feeling like he’d fallen onto his back on the mattress afterward; he was almost used to that one.

This time he’d been covered in blood. He could only see the Funhouse floor, the countless bodies there, forming a grotesque ring around him, staring at him with unblinking dull expressions...

John rubbed his forehead. He really didn’t want to think about it anymore. He wanted a distraction and comfort and Bruce’s soothing voice in his ear.

His phone buzzed in his hand, and the first line from Bruce’s text dropped down from the top of the screen.

John hit it like lightning and let his brain simulate Bruce’s voice.

I’m close by. Can I come see you before work?

Bruce was heaven-sent, surely. A gift from a god of some sort. An absolute treasure John didn’t deserve to even look at.

He hovered over the keyboard. Should he wait a minute? Should he just say yes with all the exclamation points he felt in his heart?

No, no - Bruce might want to see him to get comfort of his own. Which meant he needed to loosen up a little.

Ha ha, I knew you couldn’t resist me ;)

John waited a moment, his brain buzzing that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to joke with a man that might have stayed up all night again… Maybe he should amend it with a ‘j/k’?

What can I say, your raw animal magnetism has a tendency draws in bats.

John laughed to himself.

Ha ha ha! I bet I can amp up the magnetic power to get you here *faster*!

No need. I’ll be there in 5 mins.

…you’re that close already?

How’d you know I’d say yes?

I had a feeling you would.

Plus this is important.

Important. So, a nine-out-of-ten chance it was about Bruce’s stakeout last night. John pushed aside the budding worry that something had gone horribly wrong - Bruce was talking to him. If he wasn’t fine (or at least Bruce’s definition of it, which was ‘alive and secretly hurting somehow’), he wouldn’t be speaking to him.

Unless someone had found out about his secret identity, knocked him out (or worse), stole his phone, discovered where John was staying, and was coming to kill him and taunting him about it by masquerading as Bruce...

...but that was a preeetty low chance.

Ok. Drive carefully, there’s a bunch of lunatics out there.

And I would know! Ha ha ha!!

I’m always careful.

I’ll see you soon.

Ten minutes, five minutes - hell, John could be ready to see Bruce in one minute. He threw on the closest things from the drawer, smoothed his hair back, and paced over the tiles a little, darting his eyes out the window towards the mediocre parking lot. It was funny how different it looked compared to Arkham. He still sometimes felt like he’d wound up in a different wing of it rather than a whole new place...

He blinked, remembering that St. Dymphna New Life Home had a somewhat different set of rules and that he could leave his room. And unlike Arkham, he didn’t have to ask or do someone a favor or play innocent. (Most of the time, anyway…)

He was already out in the hall, feeling like he should rush even though he knew he didn’t have to, passing other rooms, other snoozing patrons, turning a corner, and smacking right into Mickey.

Mickey Williamson had a serious case of ‘resting bitch face’. Well, that coupled with paranoia and aggressive issues.

“You trying to start somethin’, clown?” Mickey grunted, staring down at John.

From anyone else, it would’ve been a threat, but John had helped Batman take down Bane; this guy was a limp noodle in comparison. Still, picking a fight - even a verbal one - wasn’t a good idea. Neither was shrugging it off. “Only part one of my plan to brighten your day,” he joked. “I know you don’t like loud noises. How else am I going to get your attention?”

Mickey gave a short hmph, clearly satisfied. “...what’s the plan?”

He definitely wouldn’t buy that it was a secret. “A joke! Why are lawyers buried ten feet underground?”

Mickey looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. It was hard to tell if he was rolling his eyes or thinking about it. “Okay, why?”

“Because deep down, they’re not that bad!”

Mickey gave a short, boisterous laugh that was definitely genuine-sounding, despite the smile slipping off his face shortly after. “Okay, that was much better than the one about the rotisserie chicken you told Chuck yesterday.”

“Yeah, I guess when there’s more than one meat that cooks like that it kinda takes away the punch…”

He crossed his arms. “So what’s part two of ‘plan’ of yours?”

“What, and ruin the mild surprise? Mickey, how long have we known each other?”

“Four weeks.”

“Exactly! And have I ever done you wrong in all that time?”

His jaw shifted slightly. “That green sauce you told me to use the other day made everything too spicy.”

“Okay, honest mistake on my part, I didn’t think you’d use that much… But that aside?”

“...no,” he admitted with a slight shrug.

“Mm-hm! So trust me - it’ll put a smile on your face!” John emphasized with a click of his fingers towards his bulky neighbor and a grin of his own as he slunk away. “Probably,” he muttered to himself, completely unsure of what he would do next. Mickey might not have been as scary as Bane, but John was constantly trying to be on his best behavior, so getting on Mickey’s good side - along with everyone else’s - was for the best.

John glanced briefly the camera in the corner of the open stairwell, seeing it still pointed down the hall. He knew from the angle and shape of the lens that the corner of the stairs was a safe place to talk if Bruce didn’t want his lips recorded.

The thought made him giggle a little to himself. It took two flights of stairs to get down to the welcome area, where’d he’d no doubt have to wait as Bruce signed more pointless pieces of paper and -

And there he was. Bruce Wayne, standing there, signing away another visitor’s form and chatting up the easily-charmed nurse for the sake of his public image.

He was radiant, even under the fluorescent lights. A gorgeous demigod - no, a hero, a warrior of the highest class, out to mingle amongst the common criminals without his armor. John felt like the atmosphere had shifted and grown warm, and there was something about the way Bruce’s flirtatious smile wasn’t reaching his eyes that made John’s stomach feel all light.

The real smiles were all his. His, his, his.

He knew he had to wait until Bruce passed through the little security check, but for what felt like for the hundredth time he just wanted to walk over it and ignore everything that stood in the way of them. His fingers itched to touch Bruce, grab his hand, his wrist, anything, and he couldn’t. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, waiting, waiting, and smiling wider as Bruce caught his eye.

It didn’t matter how small the little smile back on Bruce’s face was, it was genuine. It made John chuckle: that silly girl at the front desk thought she had half a chance with Bruce? Ha!

John barely heard the guard talking about how they should go to the visiting room a-s-a-p. He knew the rules - visits were a maximum of sixty minutes, they had to be conducted in the visiting room unless a doctor signed off otherwise, and if a therapy session, work, or a meeting with the social worker was scheduled John would have to go to that no matter what.

Blah, blah, blah. There was no rule on how long they could take to walk to the visiting room. And John was willing to bend and break rules into tiny pieces for Bruce any day.

“Hey, John.”

“Hey, Bruce,” he echoed back in the same tone, grinning just a little wider. “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be.”

“I drive fast,” Bruce shrugged with a small smirk. They left the guard to pretend he wasn’t listening or watching them leave in his peripheral vision. “You doing okay?”

“Is our new mayor crooked?”

“...possibly?” Bruce answered tentatively.

“Exactly!” John joked.

Bruce wasn’t keeping his eyes focused on the stairs. Cautious concern worked its way onto his face, which John felt simultaneously annoyed and relieved at it. It was amazing having him for support - every doctor he’d ever had stressed how important a good support system was - but sometimes it made John feel like he was being babied. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Take it any way you want! Doesn’t change the fact that I always feel better when you’re here.”

Bruce frowned slightly. “Is something wrong?”

John rolled his eyes. Bruce was toeing the line of babying. Why could he not take a good dark joke? “No, Bruce. I’m not being mistreated, I can take care of myself, and I’ve taken my meddies like a good boy.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he got that stern look that made John’s brain give a little burst of adrenaline. His more dominant side always made John want to challenge him...and swoon, usually at the same time. Bruce took hold of his arm, his grip firm but not entirely threatening, and pulled him discreetly underneath the camera so they wouldn’t be seen; both stood side-by-side with their backs against the wall, Bruce’s grip on his arm loosening. “You’ve texted me in the middle of the night several times this week. I know you’re not sleeping well.” His too-blue eyes searched him. “I won’t say anything if you’re not okay, John. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

John thought briefly about retorting with ‘you’, but that was so incredibly untrue that John couldn’t even try to lie with that sorry excuse. He couldn’t say he was ‘fine’, either, despite the habitual urge to. He wasn’t, Bruce knew it, and they did make that promise to be honest with each other...

“It’s just...you know, my brain, being...rude to me.” He knew that wasn’t a good enough explanation, but Bruce was giving his ‘I’m taking you seriously’ face. John always liked that expression. He didn’t see it enough on people. “I just keep having, you know,” John fumbled, rubbing the back of his neck to try and dispel some of the awkwardness, “bad dreams. I mean straight-up barbaric ones, Bruce,” he felt his lip curl in a sneer at himself, “My brain compacts all my garbage memories and twists it into something worse.”

Bruce took hold of John’s hand so smoothly it actually took him by surprise. John stared at him, wondering if he’d said something wrong. He should explain, shouldn’t he?

“I think… I’m still adjusting. Like, I know you’re here, and I’m here, but...it’s like my brain secretly doesn’t like the change and is punishing me for it,” John continued, giving a short, nervous giggle, “Which is ridiculous, because this is more than I could’ve hoped for in a lifetime!”

“Have you mentioned this to Dr. Song?”

“Umm…sort of?” John gestured with his free hand. “Sans graphic details, but, uh, yeah.”

“Is it why you’ve been texting me so late? You wake up from them?”

He didn’t quiiite want to put it like that. He didn’t want to keep thinking of those stupid dreams. “That, and I miss you,” John answered with a sly smile. Their fingers were entwined - he stroked the Bruce’s thumb with his own, feeling the old tiny scar there, slightly smoother than the rest of his warm hand.

The reaction was more of what he wanted to see right then - Bruce had that sweet longing look in his eye.

“I’m literally counting down the days, Bruce,” John purred, feeling much more confident as Bruce’s face flushed a delicate shade of pink. “I’d do anything just to kiss you right now.”

“We shouldn’t,” Bruce replied, looking like he was trying to talk himself out of doing just that.

“That’s not what you said last time,” John teased quietly with a grin, turning to lean his shoulder against the wall. The delicious aromas of expensive cologne and hair conditioner clung to Bruce’s collar, bringing to mind the more sordid details of that last visit. “In fact, I remember you pinning me to the wall and kissing me until you couldn’t breathe.” He’d give anything (any mild luxury, a whole week of visits, all the good night’s sleeps he had left) just have a room alone with him for a while. “I’ve had a hard time thinking about anything else since then.”

He could almost see the struggle between reason and desire in Bruce’s mind. He tried to hide his little shudder as John leaned in a little more; oh yes, John had him right where he wanted him. Bruce might as well have licked his lips.

“Or do you want me to do the pinning this time?”

John considered just pulling him forward and kissing him anyway, but that would ruin their little game. He liked seeing how far he could push Bruce. He watched Bruce’s baby-blues flicker slightly between John’s eyes.

The admonishment in his voice was gentle, like the squeeze he gave John's hand. “We really shouldn’t.”

“Alll-riiight,” John said with a playful pout, “If you say so, Bruce.” He pulled away and crossed his arms, wanting something else to do with his freshly-warmed hands. “You got spooked when that door opened last time, huh?”

“It’s more like ‘I don’t want people to think you got out because of my influence’,” he retorted quietly with a slight smile.

“Well, they’re not wrong, Bruce. I wouldn’t be in here without you,” John pointed out with a shrug in the general direction of their surroundings. “But I get it. So, if you’re not here for a good ol’ round of canoodling, it must be work-related, huh?”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “I actually just wanted to see you.”

John felt his heart skip that middle beat. “Oh! I mean, when you said ‘important’, I thought… Oh, geez,” he blustered, tapping his thighs with his fingers, “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.” He brought his hands together, looking up at Bruce with his best puppy-eyed expression. “But you’ll tell me how last night went anyway, right?”

Bruce had that cute little smile perking on the corner of his mouth. “Of course.” The smile slipped away just as soon as it appeared. “Not well. The shipment coming in was sabotaged before it came into port; I found all the crew dead.”

“Uugh,” John grunted, putting his hands in his pockets. “Did you at least get B.M.’s guys?”

“No. Their van combusted not long after I boarded the ship. G.C.P.D. found three dead, the last one’s presumed missing. We think it’s a rival gang - C.S.I. was still examining the wreckage when I left.”

“Sounds like a rough night.”

“It was. I barely got a power nap in before-”

“John?”

He glanced down the stairs, towards the voice - Devi, one of the few women staying there. She’d been there for three months already, coming out of her second stay at the county clinic.

“What’re you doin’? We got work in five minutes.”

“...we do?”

“Yeah, it’s Tuesday, man. You comin’ or what?”

He didn’t want to, but he should. “If I don’t make it down there, hijack the bus to wait for me,” he joked.

Her face lit up. “Hey, an upside: I can finally get one of Peralta’s Boston cremes in you.”

John grinned and gave a dramatic gasp. “Devi, you scoundrel, that’s dirty!”

“You’re the one makin’ it dirty, man!” Devi laughed, “I better see you down here in five, or I’m tellin’ the warden,” she teased as she turned the corner, her ponytail of tiny braids shifting as she walked.

Bruce had that calculating look. “I’m sorry, John, I didn’t know you had work today, either.”

“That’s okay, Bruce, I forgot entirely!”

Bruce looked far away, like he was thinking through something.

“Um, you okay?”

“...she didn’t question us standing here.” Bruce turned his gaze to him again. “Do you think she knows something?”

“Devi? Nahhh, she’s on the level.” Weeell… “Our level, I mean. Even if she ‘knows something’, she’s no rat.” Bruce still looked concerned, the big worry-wart. “Look, it’s fine - I’ll go get on the bus with the other crazies, go sit in a back-room sewing den where no one sees me for half the day, and text you if she tries to blackmail me so your other half can pay her a visit.”

Bruce’s little smile returned, making John want to just reach out and caress him like the treasure he was. “You don’t need an excuse to text me, John. You can do that whenever you want.” The sincerity made John’s stomach twist a little. “Just be careful. And have a good day at work.”

John wondered if everyone else in a relationship felt a little burst of joy at the simple well-wishing phrase. “Right back at ya, Brucie,” he said, nudging Bruce’s shoulder with his fist. He leaned in a little, lowering his voice just so Bruce could hear. “You know what I’ll do if anyone hurts you.”

Just as soon as Bruce got that complex look of desire-in-denial and mild alarm that John had wanted to see, John tossed him a wink and whirled around, leaving him to puzzle it out as he descended the stairs.

He grinned to himself, feeling much more relaxed and in-control than before. “Don’t stay too long, Bruce, or you’ll start thinking you live here!”

*~*~*~*~*

The Eastern harbor was one of the more seedy places in Gotham. Batman often fenced the place as part of his patrol, and John could name every mob that made a hit on the infamous 13th Street.

So naturally, it was one of the few sections of the city that would think of employing former Arkham inmates. It was a twenty-minute bus ride every morning to get to their respective jobs. Most of the residents in St. Dymphna were leased out to the laundromat or the incorrectly-named Lucky Hotel down the street. Occasionally one would go to the weird fish market to work in the back, gutting and descaling whatever was brought in. John was so far the only one to be placed in the Stitched Up Alterations joint next to the laundromat.

The bus was discreet, looking more like a white van with the city logo than a repurposed short school bus. It made John long for the flair of Lil’ Puddin’; it might have just been a stolen car he’d had repainted, but at least you knew who was coming.

He gave a little wave to Devi as he passed her heading towards the laundromat, leisurely making his way to the back alley around the place. He passed the always-smelly dumpster and the brick wall covered with graffiti - grinning slightly at the ‘fuck the agency’ tag someone had made with a decent imitation of his clown-smiley-face - and entered through the back door.

It was a small space, crowded with giant spools of various fabrics in all kinds of colors and patterns. There was a little group of headless dress forms in a few different sizes that he had recently cleaned the dust off of, one of which had what might be a burnt-orange off-shoulder dress pinned to it, likely for prom. Or was it homecoming? John never really knew which was which, but summer was only a couple of weeks away, which meant it was likely for whatever the last dance of the year was, and it was definitely new.

Though the color really wasn’t in season. It put him in mind of the fall, of the range of makeup he’d been eying in his few hours of freedom in Gotham half a year ago... He touched it, feeling the synthetic satin under his fingertips. It hadn’t been there yesterday, but it was real.

He passed the shelf of jars filled with colorful buttons, and the rolls upon rolls of fabric, taking a moment to run his hand over the beautiful purple broadcloth he’d half-hidden in a stack, and checked his lonely workstation. A pile of pieces to work on, all folded and tagged, sat at the table by the sewing machine.

He flicked through the pile. Boring, mildly interesting tack job, ooh nice pattern, boring, and

S.Townsend. Beautiful calligraphy, almost like it was from someone with years of practicing their signature. (John would know – he had roughly eight years of practice and he knew his wasn’t anywhere near that pretty.)

“Why does that name sound familiar…?”

A quick search turned up a few results, but nothing recent stood out… There were too many famous S.’s with Townend, apparently – a musician, some newscaster miles away, a convicted murderer ten years ago, some yacht owner…

“Ah-haaa.” One of Gotham’s one-percenters. Sonja Townsend, the chairwoman of Wayne Enterprises. “Why would a member of Bruce’s round-table go here?”

The ticket was recent, made yesterday at closing and wanted in half an hour. An easy enough job - just adding a ticket pocket to a very new purchase. The tag for the jacket was still attached to the sleeve - on sale for fifty bucks, marked down from two-hundred.

“A big-wig who doesn’t always buy big, huh?”

That was...definitely strange. Suspicious, even, considering Wayne Enterprise executives made so much it was a surprise they didn’t try to declare themselves kings.

He unbuttoned it and checked the lining - there was a ticket pocket already there. It was certainly a man’s jacket, just...very small. And they didn’t want it taken in or shrunk?

Hmm.

He took the seam-ripper and tore through the thin stitches holding the pocket closed, wondering if there was something inside.

Nothing.

“You’re being paranoid, John. Dr. Leland warned you about looking too far into things,” he muttered to himself, “Even if it isreally weird… There could be a decent explanation! But… Ugh, what would Bruce do?” his arms and staring at the annoying tag.

Bruce would question it, look at it from every angle… And research it.

John snapped a photo of the tag where The-Mysterious-Person-S had scribbled their signature and sent it to Bruce.

Hey buddy, does this handwriting look familiar?

I can’t check right now. In a meeting.

Fair enough. Looking at it from other angles it was.

John pat the sleeves, the collar, turned the inner-pocket inside out, thinking about the tiny packets of drugs he’d seen exchange hands at Arkham when he found something in the outside pocket.

An ordinary USA Express. No signature on the back, and the black stripe was very worn, but the card wouldn’t expire until next month; the unlucky name on the front was Michael Hodgson.

Huh. Well…no, it wasn’t finder’s-keepers, and John had already been told off for petty theft during his trial, but…it could be useful. Door locks could be picked with a card. As long as he didn’t buy anything with it, it was fine, right?

Right.

John stuck it in his back pocket.

Just as soon as he did, the door to the front opened, and John sat and moved the shirt like he was doing ordinary work as usual, pulling out the boring fabric that someone wanted to turn into a very boring pillow.

The manager came through, hauling a grocery bag of more fabric.

“Oh, John – can you…take a walk for a bit?” The smaller man asked, his mild Thai accent slightly more prevalent than normal. It only seemed to happen when he was nervous. “I have a special order I need to do back here. It will take up the bench.”

“Uh, sure, if you want. How long will you take?”

“A while. Just make sure you’re back in half an hour; the social worker’s dropping by then,” he said with a wave of his hand, moving in John’s way to force him back up.

Mr. Prinya definitely wasn’t supposed to tell him that. Those were meant to be surprise visits, to see how John was coping. “This isn’t some kind of test, is it?” John asked with a nervous little laugh, “Like you’re seeing if I’ll take the opportunity to skip out and report me?”

“You ask a lot for a man who wants this job.” Mr. Prinya put the bag by the stack of orders. “You leave, be back in thirty, both of us live to work another day.”

Ah. He was moving something. His accent came in a little thicker with the light threat, and his little show of bravado made John think it was probably against his will. Probably. But John knew the score – he had more than his share of experience keeping secrets in Arkham. And time away was beneficial for both of them.

“Hey, no worries,” John answered with his best understanding smile and a raise of his hands, “I get ya. I’ll just leave this one on the outgoing rack, ‘k?” He emphasized, picking up Townsend’s jacket.

Mr. Prinya gave a stiff nod, taking a seat in John’s chair and fiddling with his phone as John put the jacket on the wire hanger and threw it on the ‘outgoing’ rack by the door. He clearly didn’t want John to know what was in the bags. Probably for the best.

John left through the backdoor and stepped back into the alley.

He wasn’t far from the harbor. He could easily go have a look at the crime scene from last night by warehouse twenty-two… It was best not to get too close to it, though, so strolling by the actual docks wasn’t the best choice. He could go the roof of one of the buildings close to it instead. John had managed to get a close-zoom lens for his phone’s camera a little while back; it was a tiny thing attached to the back of his phone’s case, plugged into the audio jack for safe-keeping - all he had to do was clip it in place and he’d be able to have almost-binocular vision.

He took a quick look at the back of the laundromat. There was a camera by the door, but if he went juuust wide enough, he wouldn’t be seen by it’s all-seeing-eye.

The wire fence was a little difficult to climb in his shoes (he missed those ankle boots Bruce had bought him last year, the slight heel dug into crevices nicely) and he was never a fan of the feel of metal digging into his hands, but he managed to climb over the fence with a swing over the top and a hop to the ground without any injury.

John straightened his shirt, feeling a little accomplished, and set off for the sets of buildings closest to the docks, passing by graffiti in the twisting litter-coated alleyway - there was a poor imitation of the bat signal that someone had scribbled over and written ‘fuck batman’ next to, standard gang tags, non-standard gang tags, an anarchy symbol, a giant cartoonish bat chasing people…

Actually, that was one for the album! He had to stop and take a picture; one of the people looked like the Mayor. He didn’t even care it had a few of the tags in it - it was part of the charm, really.

He passed by one of the partially-repainted dumpsters, wrinkling his nose and walking faster when he smelled rotting fish parts, and spotted the ladder for the fire escape next to it dangling down partway into the alley. John was tall enough to tug at the ladder, but it wouldn’t budge.

The windows were mostly blacked out by something or other. If anyone lived there, he doubted they were home. It would be a damn good view, and close enough that the journey back wouldn’t make him late.

“Hm, to use the smelly abyss as leverage, or risk a minor injury?” He muttered aloud.

The dumpster was ancient and rusting. Not worth it.

John bent and jumped up, grabbing hold of the bars on the ladder and swinging his legs out to keep balanced as he climbed the first few bars. He checked the window by the landing and wiped his hands on his pants for good measure. The room there wasn’t as empty as he thought - the window had been darkened by thin film, like the kind they used for quick-fix window tinting, and the inside had some bare battered furniture. He could see a duffel bag half-hidden by a table leg.

Probably another runner. It was no use pondering about what they were running from. In Gotham, there were far too many choices.

The next two windows had curtains (or in one case, sheets that had been clumsily tacked on the panes that let John see someone watching bad on-demand porn) and the last one showed nothing but an empty room with an open doorway. “Man, how hard is it to get a little bit of human interaction around here?” He grumbled to himself. He’d at least like to see someone else properly for more than a minute. Or get an idea of them at least.

He looked out into the street below - three passers-by in matching grey-and-black hoodies, seeming to laugh it up as they passed. A street gang, maybe... They weren’t very observant, if they were; there was a perfectly good motorcycle just sitting at the end of the alleyway there. It couldn’t be too difficult to hot-wire. At least compared to a car.

There was one more ladder going to the rooftop - and upon poking his head over the top, John was unsure on how to feel.

Tiffany Fox stood near the edge of the roof, doing exactly what he was planning on doing - only she had a pair of real binoculars. And that tablet she used for her drones.

She looked different from the last time he saw her, too; she was dressed fairly professionally, making her look a little more mature despite the dark blue streaks littering the thick curls on the one side of her head.

He wished he had her number so he could just text her he was there. Sneaking up probably wasn’t the best thing to do, despite the little urge to spook her; she was being trained by Batman, after all.

Weird situations like this surely called for some playful banter. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” He asked with his best film-noir-detective voice.

It certainly got her attention. She whirled around looking like a frightened cat, reaching for her hip like there was something useful there. A taser, judging by the shape in the pocket. (John always wondered why women’s slacks had those terrible form-fitting pockets.)

The wary look on her face didn’t quite diminish when she noticed it was just him. Despite the better terms they ended on in the ambulance back in October, he didn’t completely blame her for distrusting him - they had matching scars, after all.

“John,” she said simply, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Ha, now you’re sounding like Bats, at least!” He chuckled, moving towards her to close some of the gap. He knew better than to get too close, though. He’d be the same way, if things were reversed; you never really knew what someone had hidden on them. “I would’ve thought you’d have developed that sixth-sense of his by now, after all you’re training, Tiff’.” (He made sure to keep of the ‘y’ he wanted to add. He remembered she’d said not to call her that; ‘Tiffy’ was reserved for brain-talk only.)

Tiffany’s expression shifted. She wasn’t just wary anymore, she had that little frown on her face that meant he’d crossed some unseen line. It couldn’t have been her name - was her training not going as well as Bruce had said? Or was it just one of those secretly-sensitive subjects?

“So… What’cha doin’?” He asked casually, stopping at the edge several feet away from her to look down into the street. “People watching, or crime scene watching?”

“Crime scene watching. Aren’t you supposed to be in that halfway house?”

He couldn’t decide whether the tone was accusatory or curious. It kinda sounded like both… Well, best to be nice about it. She had Bruce’s number on speed-dial, after all. “I am; I’m technically on a break from the mandated work. What about you, Tiff’?”

She raised a brow, and her tone was instantly recognizable; the same rebellious sort that came when someone nosy asked Harley what she was doing. “What about me?”

John fiddled with his phone, clipping on the magnifier lens to cover the camera. “Are you skipping work entirely, or just going in late?”

“Late. I would never skip.”

Really? Never-ever? He doubted that. “Eight hours a day, five days a week - and that’s not even counting your night gig. Doesn’t it wear on you?”

Tiffany didn’t quite seem focused on that tablet screen. “Sometimes. But last time I took time off, Bruce scolded me.”

“Do you mean he actually got angry, or he was he just like ‘Don’t be irresponsible, Tiffany. Just because my double-life allows me to up and leave work for as long as I can’t walk doesn’t mean you can take a break,’” John said in his best imitation of Bruce’s smoother-but-stern voice.

Tiffany gave a noise that might have been covering a laugh. He could see the smile on the edge of her mouth. “That does kinda sound like him.” She made a swiping gesture on the screen and looked over at him. “But it was more like he’s worried I’ll get too into the night job and go work on stuff without him.”

That wasn’t quite right. Bruce cared about people - more than likely, he just didn’t want Tiffany to get hurt or be in danger when Bruce couldn’t be around. John had caught sight of Batman staying outside of Arkham some nights when Bruce hadn’t stopped by in a couple of days, as if he was just checking up on things.

That was the type of person Bruce was - clearly it extended further where Tiffany was concerned, and she was clearly tired of hitting that ceiling.

“So, like you’re doing now?” John grinned, focusing the camera on his phone to try and zoom in as far as he could on the remains of the van in the distance. They were just high up enough to see most of the scene.

Tiffany was finally smiling. It was small and smug, but it was a definite change from the last time he saw her. It reached her dark eyes, lighting them up like a little candle in the dark. “Yup.”

John squinted at the image of the wreckage on his screen. “Yeesh, that was some firework they planted. Looks like the whole thing went up in smoke.” He zoomed in as much as he could. “Wow, the back doors are either open or gone on that thing.” The strangeness of it seemed to click the second he said it. “Or the explosion came from the inside.”

“That’s what the C.S.I. think, too,” Tiffany answered. “The glass all shattered outward; I think someone planted it there. That, or the dumbasses left the keys in the van.”

John giggled at that. “Mobsters leaving their keys behind? In Gotham? No way.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the more lunkheaded ones was in charge of driving.”

“No, no, you want the people with quick reflexes to drive, not the muscle. It’s why I was the designated chauffeur for the Pact,” he said somewhat proudly, “That, and Harley liked being driven around. Said it made her feel all fancy.” He scowled to himself as he felt his gut twist at the old memory. “Though Dr. Leland thought that was just another example of her using me for her own gain...”

“You don’t still miss her, do you?” Tiffany asked, the accusatory tone lacing in between caution.

John thought. He kind of did. Not the same way he missed Bruce - not by a longshot - or the same way he missed Dr. Leland.

He shot a look at Tiffany. Were they at the point of bringing up ‘personal’ stuff yet? They’d worked together before, and they were on the same team now… He supposed that there wasn’t a better time to find out than now.

“It’s...more like I miss the fact that I could talk to her. Being in her company was easy, you know? That sort of ‘natural connection’ thing. In hindsight, there were some red flags about our whole relationship...but I can’t just pretend everything that happened between us just never happened.” He breathed out through his nostrils, already angry even though there wasn’t even a Harley there for him to be angry at. “Even if she did try to hurt Bruce.”

“And left you behind several times, tried to kill me alongside Bruce, and took advantage of you at every chance,” Tiffany said pointedly, a sardonic sort of smile perking up. “You shouldn’t just value Bruce’s life that much - you’ve got your own, you know.”

John snorted. She sounded a lot like Leland, in her own way; neither of them really quite got his relationship with Bruce. “Not much of one.” Though… “I guess it is getting a little better.”

She had that sort of pitying expression on her face. He wasn’t really a fan of those. Sympathy was fine, empathy was better - but pity? He didn’t need that. He really, really wanted to just change the subject rather than deal with any conversation pertaining to that.

“Speaking of lives, though - any idea what happened with the ship? I can still kinda see it in the harbor.”

“...how did you know about it?”

“How else? Bruce dropped by this morning.” He saw the mild bewilderment there, and decided he might as well drive the point home and make her jealous at the same time. “He always shares his case details with me. Among other things,” he added slyly. “But I had to go to work, so the conversation got cut before I could hear the juicy details. You were on patrol with him, right?”

“I wasn’t there in person,” Tiffany grumbled, going back to tapping her tablet. (What was she doing on it, anyway?) “I was using my drone from the cave, before some trigger-happy asshole took it out.”

John remembered her father had made those; no wonder she was upset. He should offer comfort. Better comfort that the last time they’d spoken about her father. He’d learned what to say since then. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he echoed with all the sincerity he could.

She looked more puzzled at that than anything, but she didn’t look more upset, so that was probably a good sign. “Uh, thanks… Anyway, Bruce saw everything - I only got the data feed from his drones.” She tapped something, and seemed to think. “You sure you wanna see this?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“They’re pretty bad.”

He didn’t care. It wasn’t the blood or wounds that got to his head the last time he’d seen carnage second-hand; it was the ferocity, the terror on the people’s faces, the familiarity of it all that brought back the memory of the manic episode that had spiralled him to his worst point, and it made him feel very...displaced. But it wasn’t video, and John’s curiosity and his drive to help Bruce overrode everything else.

He wanted to squeeze something. He settled for putting his hands in his pockets and feeling the back of his phone case. “I can handle it.”

Tiffany turned the screen towards him. “There were eight victims. Most of them were stabbed.”

There were two men sunken in plastic chairs in the ships kitchenette, each with one of their eyes gouged out.

It was the kind of thing to put a sharp thrill in his gut and made the neurons in his brain fire away; enough to make him smile. No weapons in the wounds, and from such fun angles! “You know, I’ve always wanted to see a knife-thrower in person. I wanna find out how they do that.”

When he looked back up, Tiffany’s nose was wrinkled in the kind of stern disgust that Bruce displayed at the sight of dead bodies - only she lacked the spark of intrigue he always had. (Guess she wasn’t as far along in the training as he thought…) “Knife-throwing, huh…”

“Yeah, with reeeally long blades - I mean, I think some butter knives are big enough to hit the brain, too, but they’re probably harder to aim just right.”

Her frown deepened. “I don’t want to know how you know that…”

“It’s kind of obvious,” he answered anyway, unsure of how else he would know, “I mean, look-” He spread his thumb and forefinger to measure and held it up against his head, “it’s at least three inches to the temporal lobe; butter knives aren’t that long! Unless it’s for the world’s largest stick of butter.”

He was clearly close… Just a scoach more, and she’d surely crack. Her frown turned upside down for a little bit, there. The wall was dropping, further and further - he had to time these things just right…

Tiffany swiped on the screen, her expression souring at the sight of whatever-it-was, and his tiny hope died like a butterfly caught in a snowstorm. That was too serious a look to run with.

So he dared to scoot a little closer and peer over her shoulder, catching sight of the overhead image of the ship’s storeroom.

Four unfortunate men were laying on their backs, positioned so their arms crossed their chests like they were newly-buried pharaohs. Their heads all touched, three nestled snug together at forty-five-degree angles while the last one touched them all in the middle; a three-to-one ratio.

John itched to just grab it out of her hands to have a better look. He clenched his hands once and released halfway, forcing the impulse to pass. He didn’t want to be rude, even if they weren’t on the best of terms; and she was clearly in a rebellious streak, so acting demanding was right out. “Can I see that?” He asked instead, as politely as possible.

“Please?” He continued, seeing the morbidly-curious look in her weirded out face, “Just to check something?”

She was more guarded than ever, looking straight at the tablet in her hands...

At her right hand, just briefly, thinking back to the knife he’d plunged into it that day months and months ago, debating on whether or not she could trust him with even holding one of her tools when he’d trusted her completely back at the skyrail station -

“Alright,” she said finally, holding it out to him and letting him take it without another word of protest. He could see the faded scar on her palm, not quite identical to his. Like fraternal twins. Just how deep does that parallel go, he thought. “What are you checking?”

“The shape,” he answered, pulling open the editing menu.

He started doodling over it, first in pink - red was too close to home, in this case. A large inverted triangle...

No…a trapezoid on top of a pole, perhaps?

He switched to neon yellow. A miniature upside-down triangle, with a point down. That looked better.

He switched to green, tracing a line over each body. A trident, maybe? Maybe.

It was… Something. He’d seen it before. Somewhere, sometime…

“Have you ever seen this before?” He asked, keeping the tablet flat in between them so they could both look.

“I dunno, gang symbols? There’s a lot of weird ones around,” Tiffany said. “I know someone in the Cauldron uses some weird triangle as their tag…” She looked at him, no more wariness or caution or anything negative in her expression. Just simple curiosity. “Does it look familiar?”

A phrase he’d heard a hundred times before. Always a no. Always followed with ‘are you sure’ and more no’s and follow-ups of ‘well what can you remember?’ in that same insulting tone that tried so hard to appear inquisitive...

John drummed his fingers against the tablet, feeling the material of the reinforced case under his short fingernails. He was talking to Tiffany Fox, on top of a roof, both of them taking time out from work to look into a crime scene.

He laughed at the ludicrousness of it - she could push him off the roof or tase him or escape with a grappling hook, and she was just here talking to him, like things were actually changing.

(They were, though. He could smell the smog and the harbor. It was real.)

John let the short laugh die out with a little cough as he saw the look at Tiffany’s face.

“Sorry,” he said, being used to apologizing for causing any level of ‘disturbed concern’, “But, no, it’s, uh, more like a nagging feeling.” She didn’t seem to understand that; her brow was raised, almost skeptical instead of curious, and still unsure of him as a whole. “Déjà vu with no direction.”

Tiffany actually looked like she was thinking about it, pulling apart the words in her head… “That’s...a different way of putting it. So, you might have seen it, but you don’t know where or when?”

He rolled his eyes slightly at her. He wasn’t going to dignify that was a proper response.

“I guess I’ll look into gang symbols,” Tiffany said, carefully taking the tablet back. “I’ll go back a few years, see if someone revived an old gang or something…”

“Or they could’ve just stolen the logo,” John pointed out.

“True.” She stared down at the tablet, concentration furrowing her brow. “You know, you might be right… It is kind of that nagging feeling.”

“Speaking of nagging, you haven’t found out anything new about those Black Mask guys, have you?”

“Only that one is still missing. There weren’t any tire tracks or bullets casings left behind, so whoever killed them made a clean getaway…” She cast a look over at the crime scene in the distance. “At least until I get the footage back from the broken drone. It might have picked up something.”

John hummed. A rival gang on the hunt - they would likely send whatever pieces were left to Black Mask. “Were they found the same way?”

“No. The members we found were all shot.”

Interesting! “Head or torso?”

“Does that really matter?”

“Depends on how sloppy our killer was!”

“...I don’t know how you’re so enthusiastic about this,” Tiffany grumbled, eyeing him scrupulously.

“Oh, come on, Tiff’, crime’s my specialty! We’re investigating a potential gang war, here - if it’s mostly headshots, it’s professional executions, which means a rival mafia sending a message; if it’s torsos it’s more likely to be newbies.” he thought for a moment. “Unless it’s the Corazón troupe, of course. But I’m pretty sure they’re all dead. Or really old.”

It was clear to see she hadn’t thought of that. “I’d say it looked like upper-body shots from the pictures I saw last night. I don’t have those handy, though. I’ll bring it up with Bruce.”

Hm. Hm, hm, hm. The van exploding, the crew ending up dead with only one missing as a hostage or informant - it sounded too much like a professional job. Someone planned it carefully. So why did one group get stabbed, and another shot? And why were the knife marks so precise when the shots were… Well, they could be precise. He’d have to see the pictures. Or at least hear of it.

“Speaking of him, I gotta go. I don’t want to be too late,” Tiffany said, tucking her tablet away.

“Ooh, before you do-” John quickly opened a new contact page and pushed the phone at her - “here, I don’t want to have to surprise you every time I see you.” There was the small chance she’d take it and throw it over the building, or slap it out of his hand, or just give him that weirded-out look she got sometimes or -

Tiffany defied the anxious conspiracies his brain was spinning; she took the phone and dutifully punched the number in, handing it back without any kind of strange look. “I better not find myself added to any weird listings,” she said jokingly, offering a small smile. A peace offering.

“Not even cute cat videos?” He teased, adding the fox and computer emoticons to the end of her name.

“I’ve already got a playlist on UBox for that,” Tiffany shrugged, heading back towards the fire escape. “’Bye, John.”

“’Bye, Tiff’,” he echoed, thinking for a second, “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

She blinked, turning for a moment, her hands already on the ladder railing. “You think you can find something from the inside of the halfway house?”

She was underestimating him. It was an advantage sometimes, but mostly it just annoyed him. He wasn’t anywhere close to Bruce – a man of the world in every sense – but he did have some physical power and brains and could put things together when they interested him enough. “You think that could stop me?” He answered, thinking back to every little secret he ever learned within the padded walls of his former home. “I’ve got my ways, Tiff’ – I have access to stuff you and Bruce could only dream about.”

He saw the wariness return on her face. She was unsure of what he knew and how he knew it, and just what he did to get people to talk, or what he did to take.

But like hell he’d tell her. She wouldn’t get it. Not now, at least. Maybe someday. “Be careful out there,” he added, letting the seriousness sink in before turning back into something more optimistic for both their sakes, “and have a good day at work!”

Tiffany left his view, and John cast one more look out at the crime scene in the distance.

At least he had some new things to think about at all hours of the day. Two groups of filthy criminals pitted against each other over their petty toys, unaware that Batman would be hell-bent on stopping it, using his loyal assistants who were waiting and watching from the shadows for help…

But the questions were what their precious toys were, and when and how Black Mask would get revenge – and figuring all that out would be easy once John could pinpoint who the rival group was.

How fun!

Notes: Yes, Bruce might be the main character, but relationships work both ways - John is his own person regardless of what their relationship is like, so we get to see his life, too! (Yes, that means even if he’s a villain - though he’d probably start at a hideout rather than the halfway house, considering TT wouldn’t be likely to let him have any kind of redemption arc. But we have nothing to hold us back anymore! No bars, no chains, no gods, no masters!!! So villain!John can have a redemption arc too if you want, probably starting back in season 3 and continuing on here, because he’s an ill man who needs a support system and you can make it however you want!! Fight me, TT!!!! Oh wait, you can’t! Ahahahahahahaha!!!!!!)

(You’ll still be missed by us all. Thanks for the fun and new beginnings, TellTale… I hope you know my teasing comes from [mostly] love.)

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to have some new mechanics, so “drawing” and “photography” are now things “the player” can do practically free-style! And of course a big new addition is also “character perspective swap”, to focus on John for some of the time so “the player” can experience different sides of this story. And of course John’s choices affect the story, too! And depending on what you do with him…wait, that’s spoiler territory…I can’t tell you yet... You’ll have to wait along with me. But I pinky-swear it’ll be worth it. (｡•̀ᴗ-)b✧

I try to provide updates on tumblr/my Ao3 profile but nothing is guaranteed, so subscribing/bookmarking would be ideal for you to keep current! I hope to see you April 17 for our next look into this case! (･ω´-ゞ)^☆

#ttoj #season 4 #bttts s4 #batman the telltale series #telltale batjokes #john doe #batjokes #blood tw #corpse tw #mental illness #today was stressful omfg #i feel bad that this is late #at least i managed to perfect it before i left work #reblogs are love #so are likes!!!#💜💜💜#the tolls of justice

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 4: The Universe; Behind the Scenes

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of Past Death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC Additional Tags: Thanos Is A Tool, Influence is Not the Same as Control, God I Want That Bathtub Summary: Reader learns what she remembers, but not why.

“What the hel was that?” Loki demanded. “She was fine one minute, and then she falls apart over a mere face full of dust? Who does that?”

“I can think of a reason.” Thor said softly.

“Brother?” Thor was rarely introspective, and Loki didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“She’s had a hard day. She will need rest, but I have some questions first. “

“I’m sure we all have.” Loki grouched. “Seems like that’s all we have.”

*****

The bath was nice, though the toiletries all smelled of him. You were surprised by how much mud had gotten in your hair. You weren’t made for such bizarre happenings: magic, and kidnapping gods, and ancient civilizations being built anew. Nothing about today seemed quite real. Even time was wrong. A few hours ago you were clocking in for the morning shift at work. Now the sun hung low in the sky. Evening was coming. You’d lost an entire day. You supposed that made its own kind of sense, since technically, aliens were involved.

Where were you now? This couldn’t be your country. Yes, the U.S. was pretty big, big enough to cover several time zones, but you didn’t think there was any part of the continental United States that was night while another part was morning. You had to be all the way across an ocean, or somewhere similarly as far. What a pity. You would have liked to see that. Flying over an ocean must be beautiful.

The towels were nice, much nicer than you were used to. Everything was probably going to be higher quality than you were used to, since royalty was involved.

How were you supposed to talk to them? There was no real royalty in your country; you didn’t know the etiquette. How did one address a prince? A king? A god?

Someone had taken your clothes while you bathed. Of course you couldn’t put them back on while they were still so filthy, but it made you feel vulnerable all the same. The tunic you had been provided in their place did not fit correctly at all; it was too loose in the shoulder, too long in the arms, and too tight in the hips. This was obviously a man’s garment, olive green and incredibly soft. You didn’t want to think about it. At least the provided slippers fit correctly. Your legs remained mostly bare, but you didn’t think they were all that much to look at anyway. The tunic was made for someone taller than you, so it covered enough.

This little set of rooms was odd to you. Like a whole house inside of another building. Here a bath, there a library, there and there a bedroom. And when you tried to leave back out into what you thought was the main corridor, there was a young man in armor there to stop you. He was polite, but he spoke a language you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry.” You told him. “I don’t understand.” He led you back into the library and pointed at a chair. “Oh, I get it. Sit down and wait, huh? I can do that.”

He waited until you had gotten yourself seated before going back to his post. He must have had orders not to let you leave. Annoying, but fair; they wouldn’t want you running off, and after that small panic attack earlier, it might not be safe for you to wander around without a guide.

You started browsing through the books, but most of them were in unfamiliar languages. When Loki came to collect you, you were going through illustrations and diagrams that you couldn’t read, but found interesting nevertheless. You looked up from a beautiful drawing of a huge tree with little worlds hanging it its branches, and he was just there.

“Uh…How long-“ You began.

“You make so many little noises when you read. Do you fear silence, or are you simply that lacking in self-awareness?”

“It’s just a habit.” You said defensively. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“You live completely alone. Who is there to complain? You will have to break that habit while you are within these walls. We cannot have incessant noise disturbing our guards, or my contemplations.”

You turned back to the illustrations, cheeks burning slightly. So it was just a little habit! It wasn’t that big a deal.

“You say it like we’ve gotta be joined at the hip all the time, but that’s obviously not the case, because I just had a nice bath without you. So unless you were waiting just outside the door-which would be creepy-then I’m sure my ‘incessant noises’ won’t be as big a problem as you’re making them out to be. “

You both let the moments pass in increasingly uncomfortable silence.

“I was harsh with you.” It was a statement, not an apology, but also probably the closest you were ever going to get.

“You were. I was…rude.” You conceded. You really must have crossed a line when you called him a monster. You had let your temper and fear run off with you.

“You were.” He agreed. “You were frightened. It’s only natural. And I was…frustrated. But that time is passed, and now the time has come for greater things.” He beckoned for you to follow him, and you did, curiosity growing.

Where could you possibly be going now? Some kind of magical laboratory, to run tests on your rune? A spiritual center, to meditate on this magical connection that sapped or restored energy based on how close the two of you were? A medical area, where they might operate on your hand to learn more about it?

“Where are we going?” You asked softly.

“Dinner.” He said airily, and you snorted. Greater things, huh? Still, something as mundane as dinner sounded amazing right now. You’d technically gone the whole day without eating. Something mundane sounded very nice right about now. You might not get that again for some time.

He looked oddly normal as well, which struck you as strange. It somehow never occurred to you that he didn’t look the same all the time. But all you’d ever had for reference was video footage of the battle. He wore armor to intimidate, horns to add height. Not that he needed it. The top of your head barely reached his shoulders. You would have never expected someone like him to even have casual clothes, if all those pin-tucks and diagonal shapes counted as casual. You tried to ignore the similar shapes on the ill fitted tunic you currently wore.

It was hard to believe how much different he looked without that helmet. How much the sharpness of his face was softened by letting his hair fall lose around his shoulders.

“Like something you see?” He asked. “You’re staring, you know.”

“Sorry.” You said, embarrassment creeping in. “It’s just that you look…”

He turned to watch you, the corners of his mouth lifting, ever so slightly. “Yes?”

“You look like a man.”

He paused, the tiny smile fleeing. “As opposed to a monster?” Then he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up.

“That’s not what I-“

“Oh don’t worry.” He cut you off. “After all, I’ve never shown this world anything different.”

“Lo-“ You started, then held your tongue. No, you couldn’t call him by name. You weren’t friends. Whatever reasons he might have had, he was the architect of a major disruption in your life. There was no way you had a job anymore, and if you ever got home, you probably wouldn’t have your apartment either. Your houseplants were going to die. Your friends and father, and coworkers had no idea you were still alive. And all of this was quite literally by his hand.

How were you supposed to address him?

“Your…Highness?” You tried, and he made an affirming noise. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Yes.” He said, and nothing else. It took you a moment to realize he was doing that obnoxious thing some teachers do in order to amend their students’ grammar. How annoying.

“Please tell me where we are, your highness.” You said in a voice pitched higher than normal. Years of working in retail with difficult customers gave your demeanor a false show of being chipper. He noticed instantly, giving you a strange look.

“Within the kingdom of Asgard, but you would know this island as Iceland.”

“Iceland? How did-how am I-I…I’ve never been to Iceland.” You spluttered lamely. You had never been so far from home in your life. You’d never really wanted to. You were well and truly trapped, weren’t you? If you found that you really needed to leave, there really was nowhere for you to run. Even if you could make it out of the unbuilt city, you didn’t know where any other towns were. You wouldn’t be able to speak to any people you might find. They would know you shouldn’t be there, see that you had no passport, no identification. They’d haul you right to jail. That was all that awaited you outside the city. Death in a foreign landscape, or prison.

“Oh god, I’m an illegal immigrant.” You murmured.

“What are you talking about?” He led you into a large room with a huge table in the center, and then right past that table, and into a much smaller room, with a much smaller table, set with three dinners, and furnished with the king of Asgard.

“Yes.” He asked. “What are we talking about?”

“I don’t have a passport! I’m illegal, I’ll be put in jail!

Thor shrugged. “You’re a guest of the Crown, at least for a little while. You don’t have to worry about it. Sit with us; eat. Ease your worries. We’re going to take care of you.”

You took a seat opposite Thor; Loki sat next to you, not, as you expected, next to his brother. It almost felt like they were fencing you in, putting themselves between you and the door. Or between you and anyone who might come through the door.

The food was simple, and looked good, if a little unfamiliar. A bowl of hearty stew, full of vegetables and tasting of herbs your tongue had never met. A little pot of creamy white stuff, topped with orange sauce that turned out to be sweet instead of spicy. A chunk of something that was trying to be bread but was actually dried fish that you were supposed to spread butter on as if it was bread. And a glass of strong cider that you had trouble actually drinking. Alcohol was usually too pricy for you, and so you never drank much.

It was warm, and it was good, and it was what your body, confused by time zones, desperately needed. You ate every bit, even the buttered fish. But you said nothing, not until Thor addressed you directly.

“I know you have had a very rough day, and I know you must be tired and confused, but would you be willing to entertain a few questions?”

What choice did you have? He was right about being tired; the hot food and cider had hit you pretty hard. But it wasn’t like you could just tell him to go stuff it either, could you? You put your customer service face back on.

“Sure, ask away!”

He raised one eyebrow at the fake cheer in your voice, but made no comment on it.

“I’d like to assure you that we keep this place very clean. No dust, unless you go near construction zones. But, if it’s not too uncomfortable, could you tell us why you reacted like that? So we can keep you safer in the future.”

Damn. You should’ve known they wouldn’t let that go. Six months ago, you had been sure he would have an answer for you; now you just didn’t know. Would he think you were crazy too? But he was a god; was it possible to lie to a god?

“I’ll know if you’re lying.” Loki said, as if hearing your thoughts.

“There’s no need for threats.” Thor chided him.

“I wasn’t.”

“If you are comfortable talking about it.” Thor concluded.

“It’s difficult.” You said. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I kinda do, and I have for a long time. But it seems like some great big secret that I can’t bring up, because most people don’t believe me, and the ones that do are sort of paranoid of being thought crazy. Look, something happened about a year and a half ago, except it didn’t, but it did. And I know you probably won’t believe me, but-“

“Half your world turned to dust.” Thor said grimly. “People, plants, animals, everything. And then it all went back to normal, as if nothing happened. But not for you. In the time between the two events, you suffered. You mourned. You struggled and starved. And now you remember, when it seems no one else does.”

Loki stared at you. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

You had gone very still and very pale as Thor spoke out that list of everything you had gone through.

“I knew it.” You whispered. “I knew it. I knew it was real. That many people couldn’t have the same hallucination. I knew you knew something!”

Thor nodded, still looking very serious.

“That’s why I went to the tower in the first place! That’s why I tried to approach you! I knew one of you knew something!”

“But the spell-“ Loki began.

“What happened?” You demanded, excitement overcoming your sleepiness.

“It’s a lengthy tale, if you’re up for it.” Thor warned, but you only nodded in enthusiasm.

“Very well. It begins when the universe does.” Wow, he wasn’t kidding.

“Thor, are you sure this is a good idea?” Loki broke in.

Thor shrugged. “Looks like something went wrong. She’s not supposed to remember, but she does.”

“That spell was cast for a reason.” Loki protested.

“Which do you suppose was worse? Being one of the lives initially lost, or being one of those left behind to live in that broken universe? Do you know what that was like? Being the only one left? I say she deserves an answer. “

Loki rolled his eyes. “No, if you recall, I was dead at the time. Whatever, tell her what you will, but I’ll not be taking responsibility when it blows up in your face.”

“Wait, you…you died? Did you turn to dust too?�� That even happened to the gods?

“Not exactly,” He muttered. “It was more of a hand’s on experience.”

“He was very brave.” Thor said.

“I was very foolish.” Loki retorted, but he looked more proud than angry.

“What happened?” You asked again.

“Yes, the story. Directly after this universe came into being, there also spawned a handful of concepts; embodiments of the things that make up the universe and everything in it. These things were given physical forms, shaped into shining gems of incredible power. Wars were fought over them, and with them, but only certain powerful individuals can actually use them. I have a friend who has seen what happens when someone who is too weak tries to handle one. Not pretty, apparently. However, Loki has used two of them before.”

Pride colored those last words, and Loki looked unsure of how to take being bragged about.

“For certain definitions of ‘used’, I suppose.”

“There was someone else who wanted them, a homicidal lunatic, name of Thanos. An absolute waste of space who brought nothing to the universe but mountains of corpses. Twisted. Worthless. Seems like all he could do was destroy. The Chitauri invasion? That was him.”

“That was him.” You pointed at Loki.

“Certain definitions of used.” He repeated.

You looked back and forth between the brothers. “What are you trying to tell me here?”

“He used the Mind Stone.” Thor said. “While at the same time, it used him. It affected everyone around it.”

“Wait, you mean mind control?” You asked, shocked by this revelation. “These things have their own will? Why haven’t you told anyone? Everyone thinks-“

“Do not mistake me.” Loki interrupted. “No matter how much my brother would like to paint me as an innocent in this, I still did what I did. Those were my actions and my decisions. One can very easily be a victim, and be guilty at the same time. Take it as a demonstration of what I am capable of, just not everything that I am.” He sighed, but his expression remained neutral.

“It is however, correct to think that, without Thanos, without the influence of that stone, I don’t think I would have done any of it. But I did, and there is no way to erase that. Do not make of me something I am not. I was the person who did all those things. But I am not now, and will not be again.”

“I don’t know what to think about this.” You said, but internally you were a bit relieved. You hadn’t actually stopped being frightened of him, but it was very reassuring to know that all that malice, all that bigotry and hatred hadn’t all been him. If his words could be trusted, anyway. Thor wasn’t objecting though, so maybe he really was on the level.

“He did take his stand against Thanos though.” Thor continued. “We all did; heroes of Earth, of Asgard, of the stars. And every last one of us failed. Most of us died, either in his quest for the stones, or in the event he caused. He came into possession of all of the stones, which allowed him to reshape the universe as he wanted it to be. “

“Which was…nearly empty?”

“He was a madman. He was obsessed with his savior complex, but his bloodlust was far greater, and I think he forgot how to separate the two. So yes, instead of thinking up ways to change reality for the better, he felt the logical choice was to kill everybody.”

“He had no creativity or finesse, unless he was causing harm.” Loki muttered.

“Now this is the part I really can’t tell you about, which is a shame, because it was amazing. However, because of the forces involved, the fewer people who ever know about it, the better. But we few survivors took our battle to reality itself, and we succeeded. We regained what Thanos took from us, and erased his nightmarish vision of the universe.”

“Before separating the stones and returning them to their proper guardians, the sorcerers among us used them to cast a spell over everything and everyone; that none save those of us involved should have any memory of the event we erased. We wanted to undo that suffering, but we also wanted to prevent mass searches for the stones. We can’t risk it happening again.”

“Then how come I remember?” You asked. There was much more mystery surrounding you right now than you were comfortable with.

“That is an excellent question!” Thor said. “And since you don’t seem to have any answers for us yourself, we will simply have to add it to the pile of things we have to figure out.”

“I would like to have answers too, but right now, I’m so tired.” An involuntary yawn punctuated your words. “Pardon me.”

“Yes, of course.” Thor said. “Loki will take you to bed.”

“Absolutely not!” You screeched.

“Phrasing!” Loki snapped.

Thor looked like he was having a very hard time not laughing, which you didn’t appreciate at all. That was a terrifying prospect, and one you were not in the least willing to entertain. Loki looked perturbed as well, so at least you were both on the same page.

“I’m sorry, ____, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” A little laughter did escape him, fueling your annoyance. It wasn’t a laughing matter. Neither of these men had better start getting ideas. Just because they were divine rulers didn’t mean they could take liberties. You still had rights. Didn’t you?

“Buffoon.” Loki grumbled. “Come. I’ll see you to your room.”

You got to have your own room? That sounded promising. You followed along behind him, sleepy and quiet, swimming in the events of the day. It was all so much to take in, but maybe sleeping on it would help. Loki led you back to the set of rooms you’d earlier had your bath in, letting you inside and addressing the young man standing guard at the door. You couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the young man seemed mildly confused and upset. He kept shooting you curious looks, and eventually he patted you reassuringly on the shoulder, and nodded at you. Then he went into the smaller of the two bedrooms, gathered his things, and left. He even waved at you on his way out, as if he was trying to convey no hard feelings without being able to actually speak to you.

“Uh…Your Highness? Did I just kick that guy out of his room?” You asked, feeling very guilty.

“No.” Loki assured you. “These rooms are mine, and I decide who may use them, and for how long. There is room for him in our guardhouse, it was just more convenient for him to be close by. Now it is more convenient for you to be here.”

“Because we don’t know how far apart we can be, or for how long. I get it.” There wasn’t much in the room; a bed, a desk with a chair, a small dresser, and one window. The floor and walls were bare, and there was one lamp on the desk, but no other lights. Well, you didn’t need much right now, and you owned practically nothing here, not even the shirt on your back, so this was much better than you had feared it would be.

“I feel like we can probably have a respectable distance between us, just not miles, and certainly not an entire ocean. However, I also feel like we should sleep closer together. Partly for your own safety, and partly because it seems to me that the focus of this draining sickness was our mutual dreams. “

He took a seat in the chair while you crawled into the plain little bed.

“Will you tell me about them?” He asked. “I know we were both having dreams, and I think we were connected through them, but you said yours were nightmares. Mine were not. I wonder about the differences.”

“Ugh. They weren’t anything complicated, but they were always the same. There was this big blankness that I just wanted to sink into so that I could finally rest, but you wouldn’t let me. You just kept dragging me away, and you wouldn’t let me sleep. You were scary, and it was torture, not being able to rest.”

He nodded slowly, writing something down in a small notebook you were sure he hadn’t had just a second before.

“Mine were…similar, but the perspective was different. That void was death, and I was compelled to keep you from it.”

“Do you think we’ll still dream?” You asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Right. Can you, uh…”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He left, closing the door behind him. You might have heard the lock turn, but you were already drifting off.

*********

The void beckoned you, a promise of rest and freedom, but now you knew it might not be as benign as it seemed. Loki clutched your arm, frightening with his horns and cold eyes, but now you knew he might not be as malign as he seemed. You spent the rest of your dream there, between two deceivers, not sure which one to choose.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#avengers #marvel fanfiction

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cutiecrates · 3 years

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Cutie Reviews: Sakuraco May 21

Okay, it’s been a few days but I’m here now. Actually, I’m in a really bad mood so I thought writing would get my mind off of it.

“Thank you for joining us for our last box of spring. We’re rounding off the season by featuring two of the most iconic flavors of he season - mochi and sakura. Our mochi inspiration comes from the dishes served at one of Japan’s most lively festivals, Children’s Day. Coincidentally, late April/early May is also the final bloom of sakura for the year.“

For this month, the booklet highlights Rosmarin (specializing in health, beauty, and a little fun through their tea and sweets), Tanaka Hashiten (home good producers), Kanagawa prefecture, and information about mochi and Children’s Day.

Bonus Items

This month, the bonus was a bit disappointing, considering these were items from our first box, which came about 2 boxes ago from this one. I like that we get these, but I was kind of led to believe they would be unique items back when they were advertising this feature for the box. It’s fine if you like the particular items though, and it’s still a kind gesture of them to include these for free, so I do appreciate it.

Fig Dorayaki & Kinako Mochi

Long-time viewers may be able to recognize the kinako snack in the pic, we’ve seen these plenty of times in Tokyo Treat. But for anyone unfamiliar, this type of mochi is like a cracker, it’s not chewy, as you can see. They dissolve in the mouth with a coating of roasted soybean flour (kinako) and sanbon sugar. Vegan friendly, no allergens. Made by Iwatsuka Confectionery in Niigata.

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I like the light crispiness of these, the kinako flavoring is strong and I think they make a nice light snack for tea time or just on the go. They dry out the mouth a little, so a drink is nice to keep in handy.

- - - -

Our next item is one we’ve seen before too, but interestingly enough, this time the dorayaki has fig mixed in with the red bean :o I’ve never heard of that before. I have no real opinions on fig, I grew up eating fig newtons (little pastry-like cookies with jelly inside) but I’ve never been in love with them.

Vegan friendly, contains egg and wheat. Made by Hiyoshi Confectionery in Shimane.

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Like with fig newtons, I was okay with this. I didn’t necessarily love it, but I didn’t think it was bad either. The flavoring inside was a bit vague for me to figure out, it had the red bean texture, but I suppose it tasted like fig. Super dry for my mouth.

Plum Mochi, Kanten Sakura Mochi, & Mitarashi Mochi Monaka

From Kubota Confectionery in Nagano comes this adorable little pink mochi sweet, featuring a plum jelly inside with light marshmallow coating. Non-vegan, contains gelatin. We got a whole bag of them in this box!

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I love mochi, especially pink ones :3 You can’t go wrong with pink. Anyway, these were delicious ♥ it’s sweet and soft, chewy, and the plum jelly inside tasted like actual plum! It wasn’t pickled or sour tasting, maybe a little tangy but it was yummy.

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Our next sweet also features a jelly-ish texture, you may recall that in our previous box we got some like this. But this time, it comes from Ohara Confectionery in Nagano. As this contains animal by-products, it’s not vegan friendly. No allergens however.

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I like the smooth-jelly texture of it, but I wasn’t super crazy about the sakura flavoring itself. It’s not floral or sweet, it seems kind of... not bitter, but maybe bland? It’s an acquired taste I think, because sometimes I like it.

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This next item I was very excited for, I’ve always wanted to try mitarashi dango after I tried a Japanese candy kit featuring an imitation of it, so this is probably one of the closest chances I’ll get for the time being. This comes from Eguchi Confectionery located in Fukuoka. Not vegan friendly as it may contain animal byproducts, contains eggs and minor traces of milk, soybeans, and sesame.

Mitarashi sauce is a sweetened soy sauce with a fresh, slightly spicy after-note, usually made as a glaze for foods. This specific mitarashi is combined with a bit of mochi and red bean, snuggled inside a wafer.

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The inside texture was chewy and reminded me of red beans, but the filling was sweet and only tasted like the mitarashi itself. In the “heart“ of it was a chewy, mochi core. It was very yummy! They gave us two of them too x3 I couldn’t be happier~

Rikishi Mochi Monaka & Sakura Cream Sandwich

Next up we got 2 sandwich cookie-esque pieces, as you can see they both have pretty designs on them too. First is the Monaka, made by Tenkei Confectionery in Niigata. This specific wafer snack was inspired by sumo wrestlers, who are said to eat a lot of mochi to build up strength. The filling is a combination of mochi and red beans. Vegan friendly, contains wheat and soybean with minor traces of egg and milk.

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I’m kind of fickle with red bean snacks, sometimes I like them and sometimes I don’t. If it’s super-strong in flavor I usually don’t enjoy it. I didn’t think it was too bad with this one. The wafer was very fragile and easily broke apart, in fact they kind of made a bit of a mess while I ate, and they stuck to my lips and inner-mouth. The wafer has no flavor to it either. I didn’t dislike it, but it’s not something I see myself wanting more of.

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I love the pretty flower design on this one, especially when combined with the lovely flower print package! These are by Nagara-en in Gifu. These wafers are made from fried mochi and feature a thin layer of sweet vanilla cream. Vegan friendly, contains egg and wheat, and traces of milk, soy, almond, orange, kiwi, banana, apple, and sesame.

That’s a lot isn’t it?

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There is cream in here, and even though it’s super-thin and looks practically invisible from the side, you can bet it’s there! It’s just sweet enough to avoid becoming cloying, and the wafer is very crispy. It’s the complete opposite of the red bean monaka, and I could eat several of these with no hesitation!

Sakura Mini Baumkuchen, Sakura Sable Cookie, & Sencha Tea

By Mikawa Daikokudo in Aichi comes a mini-baumkuchen cake. Last month we received a strawberry cake, this one is sakura. Did you know, as of this year baumkuchen has been in Japan for 102 years?! It was originally brought over from Germany in 1919.

Vegan friendly, contains egg, wheat, soybeans, and milk.

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I like trying these baumkuchen cakes. It’s on the moist side and they go great with drinks. This one came off as kind of average to me, I didn’t really taste any overwhelmingly strong flavors.

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Our next item comes from one of the featured makers, Rosmarin, located in Yamanashi. Vegan friendly, contains egg, wheat, soybeans, and milk, along with cherry blossom extract. The cookie contains a creamy chocolate in the center and was made using cherry blossom petals.

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This was really good :3 I’m not very big on white chocolate, but on occasion it can taste pretty good. I didn’t really taste cherry blossom, but it reminded me so much of the macadamia cookies my mom used to bring home from work when I was younger, and they had a white chocolate accent that I really liked.

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Our tea this month comes from Brooks in Kanagwa. Sencha is a form of green tea, with it’s flavor coming from tea leaves rather then actual powder.

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I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever get a tea/drink I like. But this is only the 3rd box of Sakuraco, I’m being too impatient. The booklet describes this as bitter and they were not kidding! I found it to be unpleasant, even with various sweets paired with it. Even when I tried to sweeten it myself I just couldn’t seem to figure out how to make it more enjoyable.

Fukuruko Shiruko & Sakura Owan Bowl

I’m sorry I couldn’t show you the Fukuruko Shiruko in better condition, but the blowfish-shaped wafer it came in was busted up really bad by the time I got it. No clue what happened, but it couldn’t be saved. So I made the soup it was in anyway and put it in our new bowl. Vegan friendly, contains milk.

These soup powder-filled wafers have been pretty popular lately I think, I’ve been seeing a few youtubers I watch getting them. This specific soup is a red bean and mochi porridge. The wafer is obviously edible, and the soup gives it a sorta chewy texture, and on the inside are a few pieces of mochi. As you can see by the picture they stretch and become chewy when exposed to heat.

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So... I liked the mochi and wafer, and I like sweet things so it was kinda cool trying a sweet porridge. But as a fickle red bean person, I didn’t exactly enjoy that flavoring. It was alright, but not my favorite.

Himesakura Kuzumochi

We’re nearly finished, this next item is a jiggly, traditional sweet incorporating a light sakura flavor. Included is a packet of kinako powder for sprinkling on top. Vegan friendly, contains soybeans. Comes from Surugaya in Osaka.

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See, here I like the sakura flavor. It was sweet and very refreshing~

Azuki Warubi Mochi

Our last item is pretty much the same thing, but this one was made from red bean and contains the actual beans in the jelly-ish mochi. Isn’t that fun?

This one comes from Yamada Confectionery in Tokushima. It’s vegan friendly and contains no allergens. It also included the kinako powder, as you can see. I’m not very delicate when adding it <_<

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Again, the flavoring is pretty light so I find it tolerable. I didn’t even mind eating the cold red beans in it, and it was still refreshing. This one seemed a bit more firm, but it still jiggled a bit.

Opinions

Content - 4 out of 5. I enjoyed this box! I didn’t hate anything and it all seems to go together well. A few items were a little broken up, but it didn’t ruin it for me.

Theme: 5 out of 5.

Total Rank: 8 out of 10 Cuties. As a possible farewell to spring, I thought this box did really well. I’m kind of glad and hope we’ll be moving away from red beans and sakura/cherry blossoms, I’ve had enough of them. I’m excited to see what type of things we’ll be getting for summer!

#sakuraco #cutie reviews

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thevintagebluebird · 3 years

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Unpinned - Winter Squash and Wild Mushroom Curry

Tumblr tells me it’s been six months since my last post. That seems pretty on-brand for me and this blog. Valentine’s day is coming up, and I could offer you all flowers, chocolates, and promises I don’t intend to keep: or I can just try to cook new recipes and take photos of them more often.

Let’s see, what’s new...well, we left the nightmare world of 2020 behind and are now firmly in the nightmare world of 2021. Still in lockdown. Still hanging out on Zoom. Oh! But the fella and I did the unthinkable: we MOVED! Yes, after eight long happy years together in a two-room apartment, the pandemic finally broke us. Working from home gets really cramped when you can’t walk behind your partner’s conference call to get to the bathroom. With everyone fleeing the cities for the space of the suburbs, apartment rents in our little commuter city plummeted! So we finally, FINALLY found our unicorn apartment. Same city, same rent, AND THREE BEDROOMS BABY. And that means no more plastic blue countertops here! So allow me to present my first vegan recipe AND my first post from the new digs:

Winter Squash and Wild Mushroom Curry! Straight off the never-fail pages of the New York Times cooking section, I printed this recipe sans images and left it hanging on my fridge for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Apparently at 4:45pm driving home during a snowstorm I realized it was THE right moment, because I stopped at the grocery store, loaded up my cart with a concerning amount of mushrooms, and got to work.

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? I need to hit up my local Indian grocery stores because I have no idea where you find a branch of curry leaves in Shaws, but other than that not really!

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? No! It came together shockingly fast! The mushrooms can start to add up a bit but 100% worth it.

Does it taste good? So good I’m considering making it again TOMORROW.

Winter Squash and Wild Mushroom Curry

INGREDIENTS

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

10 ounces butternut or other winter squash, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch pieces

Kosher salt and black pepper

1 or 2 small green chiles, such as jalapeño or serrano

3 medium shallots or 1 small onion, finely diced

½ teaspoon black mustard seeds

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

Handful of fresh or frozen curry leaves (optional)

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 teaspoon ground coriander

Pinch of ground cayenne

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

1 pound mushrooms, preferably a mix of cultivated and wild, trimmed and sliced 1/8-inch thick

¾ cup coconut milk

2 tablespoons lime juice

Cilantro sprigs, for garnish

In a wide skillet, heat oil over medium-high. When hot, add squash cubes in one layer. Season with salt and pepper. Cook for about 2 minutes, letting cubes brown slightly, then flip and cook for 2 minutes more. Use a slotted spoon to lift squash out, and set aside.

Cut a lengthwise slit in each chile to open it, but leave whole. (This helps the chiles heat the sauce without making it too spicy.)

Add shallots, salt lightly and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add mustard seeds, cumin seeds and curry leaves, if using, and let sizzle for 30 seconds, then add garlic, coriander, cayenne, turmeric and chiles. Stir well and cook for 30 seconds more.

Add mushrooms, season with salt and toss to coat. Cook, stirring, until mushrooms begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

Return squash cubes to skillet, stir in coconut milk and bring to a simmer. Lower heat to medium and simmer for another 5 minutes. If mixture looks dry, thin with a little water. Taste and season with salt.

Before serving, stir in lime juice. Transfer to a warm serving dish and garnish with cilantro.

Look at that spread. And LOOK AT THOSE NON-70S-BLUE COUNTERS! I may have gone a tad overboard with the mushrooms but they are nature’s meat, after all.

My sous chef for the evening. Pretty dang excited to marry that cutie in the aftertimes.

Ah yes, my favorite part of any recipe: trying to do shoddy math in my head. It calls for 10oz of butternut squash which, due to packing/shipping small boxes almost every day for the last ten years, I can eyeball fairly well, but this was a 1lb 12oz box. I have no idea why they didn’t pack a pound, a pound and a half, or 2lbs, but there ya go. I hate cutting butternut squash so I really shouldn’t complain.

Stop what you are doing to feed the cat because she is a cruel mistress and demands a sacrifice NOW.

Ask your partner if the 3″ cubes look close enough to 1/2″ cubes and admit that they probably need chopping. Oh well. Chop ‘em.

Does he look fly as hell? Yes. But these are our snazzy utility sunglasses. Not only do they make you the coolest person in any room, they also a) reduce overstimulation in a pounding nightclub b) keep the oils from onions from burning your eyes during chopping c) I guess block the sun sometimes.

Get those now-tiny cubes into a hot pan! Perfect! ...for now. Foreshadowing.

Wash your fungus. Now, I’m not fancy and don’t have wild mushrooms or foraged mushrooms (I haven’t gotten to see my mushroom guy at the Somerville Winter Farmer’s Market in a while). I got some shiitake, baby portabella, and plain ol’ white mushrooms. Store brand baby.

Snazzy sous chef grillin’ the onions.

So it’s about time I admit: I did not have some (read: many) of the spices this recipe called for. I have never seen curry leaves. I don’t know what black mustard seed looks like. I don’t own coriander. We turn into weeping piles of burned sand whenever there’s a pepper in the house. So I did a lot of substitutions: entirely left out the chiles (sorry flavor fans) and skipped step 2, swapped ground cumin for the seeds, used curry powder in place of leaves, and threw in a dash of cardamom instead of coriander (it smelled like something that would be happy in a curry dish plus they’re close alphabetically). I added a good dose of black pepper to make up for the lack of mustard seeds (?!) and, anyway, my meals are often struggle meals.

Ah yes, the other inevitable moment of the evening: when I realize there’s no way the rest of the ingredients will fit into my pan. Tall Allan to the rescue, pulling down our dutch oven gifted by the lovely Ann and Joe when we helped them move a million years ago! It doesn’t get nearly enough use. Maybe I should store it somewhere I can actually reach.

WHOO NOW TWO DIRTY HAND-WASH-ONLY PANS!

Ok now we’re getting somewhere, starting to smell pretty damn good...

If you are not a cilantro-is-soap person, chop up your fresh leaves. I did splurge on these because I also have salsa and can make next-level nachos next time I need a snack. Or put it in a salad or whatever. Mainly nachos.

This is the moment you realize that despite crafting this blog for a few years and being both a person who cooks food sometimes AND a professional pantry chef in years past, you STILL don’t ever closely read the recipe all the way through first. The curry needs rice. What are you even doing with your life. How could you forget to start the rice. Now everything will be done in minutes and you’re starving and the rice is RAW. Concede defeat, promise to make rice FIRST next time, and pull out some tiny bit of starch: these mini whole grain naan breads. They are my new obsession. They’re $3.50 for four slices but holy heck I love them so much.

Done! The whole thing came together in under a half hour, and looks nice on a plate!

We’re skeptical that sans rice this vegan meal will be filling enough, but moments after this photo was taken and before a single bite was had, our doorbell rang and who was it but THE KENTS with GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! Delivered to our door in a snow storm no less! Desert safely secured, we sat down to discover our fates: it was GOOD!! Filling! Tasty!

Final final verdict: I’ve yet to try a NY Times recipe I didn’t end up loving (the one and only salad recipe I have is their orange/radish/pistachio dish I was shown a few years ago - amazing) and this was no exception. We’re trying to eat less meat (and have already virtually cut beef and pork from our normal rotation) so finding easy vegan meals is really exciting. We freakin’ love mushrooms and I can’t wait to make this again. Probably later this week.

#unpinned pinterest pintrestfail recipe cooking

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goodlawdmaude · 3 years

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Colombia and Peru 2019

3/7 SAN FRANCISCO --> BOGOTA

3/7-3/8

J and I ubered from ASF to airport, got through security, grabbed a drink at the terminal, then waited at our gate to board. Alarmingly, we heard our names over the intercom, but we just had to show our passports at the desk - no problem. A flight attendant on our flight got sick, so the flight needed 9 volunteers to get off the plane. This delayed us, but we eventually got off the ground. Slept some on the flight, had to go through customs in Mexico City, then through security to our gate. It was around 6am and light outside. Jarod resolved to start the day, but I wanted to sleep more. I slept for 30 great minutes on the flight, then watched Bohemian Rhapsody. The third person in our aisle was sketchy: late, on the phone (free WhatsApp), and importing a lot (per his customs form). We got through customs pretty quickly, then grabbed a taxi and made it to our hostel around 3pm. We rested briefly, then went out for lunch—arepas, chaufa arroz con pollo, and a special combo with seafood and rice in a divine yellow sauce. Jarod was starting to feel the full effect of his cold, but we went for a brief walk anyway through the center of town and the Museo de Botero. Lots of street vendors with various crafts and snacks, some alpacas, police with dogs with muzzles, cobblestone roads, sanitation workers in blue jumpsuits, green mountains in the background. While driving, we saw stark constrasts between shoddy roadside structures and the grand skyscrapers just behind them. Roads were paved and nice. We walked back, buying water at a nearby market, then took naps, showered, and went to sleep very early (8pm). On two instances, we were awoken by rowdiness in the hostel. Overall, slept 11(!!) hours.

3/9 BOGOTA-->MEDELLIN

3/9 Bogota-->Medellin

After our long sleep, we ate breakfast (eggs, fruit, bread, homemade jam, pancakes, lots of fruit) at the hostel, then asked reception to call a taxi for us. We made it to the airport and ultimately made it to the gate smoothly (despite one snafu: struggling to follow arrows to find el bano). Flight was super quick, it was hot when we landed, and we grabbed a taxi from a line outside. The ride to El Poblado was pretty green and undeveloped. It reminded me of driving in Costa Rica (narrow, windy roads), but the roads were paved and in better shape. We tried to drop our bags at the airbnb but couldn’t. We grabbed lunch at El Florez a couple doors down—very yummy healthy food. We tried the airbnb again to no avail. We walked around to take in the town. It was very green, hot and trendy - peppered with new-looking bars, restaurants, and shops. Dying of heat, we stopped for lemonades at a restaurant by the airbnb then went to get our key. We got in and hung for a bit--the airbnb was plenty spacious but nothing super fancy. We grabbed a drink at El Jenun(??)--J built his own gin and tonic while i had a fancy cocktail. We walked for a while--through some slightly seedier roads--to a gypsy/fox-themed pizza place for dinner. Grabbed a beer at Medellin beer company and J accidentally ordered a pitcher. Waitresses were scantily clad and hot; there was an old weird white dude who knew them all far too well. We came home, showered, and went to bed around 11pm.

3/10

After sleeping in until 9am, I straightened my hair (big deal) and then we went to El Pergamino for coffee and breakfast. I had a milky delicious chai latte and eggs with tomato and pesto roasted in a little crepe brûlée pan. The coffee shop was super trendy and cute. From there we walked to the Poblado Metro station and found our way onto the metro. It was very hot and pretty crowded but a really nice system. We got off to transfer to a gondola which took us over a poorer area--tin roofs, lots of graffiti, kids and dogs running everywhere. Then we got on a second gondola which took us over a final stretch of town and over a few miles of forest. The view was unbelievable. We were squished in with a Spanish family of 6 who were talking about how hot it was here and elsewhere. We got off and started exploring El Parque Arvi. It took us a while to realize we couldn’t hike the trails without a guide, and we couldn’t get a guide without booking online. We walked around and down the road where there were lots of street vendors and a couple restaurants. We got overpriced mangos. We headed back and went to grab lunch before seeing the botanical garden. There was mostly fast food. We got two empanadas to go and sat by the main area of vendors and performers in front of the garden. We went in, admires the flora, saw some iguanas, then headed out. We intended to walk to Cerro el Volador, but then the area we were walking through got a little sketchy and we turned around. We went to Explora Park--walked through the aquarium, reptile exhibits, and a room dedicated to the mind. By the time we were ready to leave, it was pouring. We ran to a taxi, had some confusion with the address, but made it back. We rebounded out for dinner (kebab house - mediocre) nearby, then got dessert across the street and wine and waters at exxito

3/11

Woke up *early* 720 to get ready for our free walking tour through Real City Tours. Jarod made breakfast (scrambled eggs and an arepa) while I got dressed. We left a few minutes later than hoped, but hustled down Calle 10 to the poblado metro station and made it with time to spare to meet our guide. He wore a hat and a red shirt and directed our flock of 23 gringo ducklings onto the metro (which Jarod and I had already mastered the previous day), and we took it three stops north to Alpujarra. We got off, regrouped, and headed off to start the tour. It began with a roughly 20min history of Medellin. Julio told us how a big alcohol tax led the entrepreneurial locals to find smuggling routes to bring it into Colombia and how coffee grew well in its fertile soil and was a major export that bolstered the economy. He talked about the rise of cocaine and Pablo Escobar--how he and those over 30 remembered the terror and the violence and danger, but that younger people thought he was good because he “gave houses to poor people.” He talked about how the metro system showed the people that things could be better, and Medellin started its resurrection. We saw the old train station, the main government offices, the plaza of light (which used to be a crime hotspot but is now beautiful, adjacent to a library and the center of education). We walked through El Hueco, taking in the vendors and street scene to a church, empanada (with orange juice), and the Botero museum and plaza. We learned of the Belgian architect who had left his project because of all the shit-talking of the local people; the Paisas said they would finish it themselves... and did so very abruptly without following his complex blueprints. At this point, 4 members of our tour got lost. We walked to the metro stop from whose stairway a grenade had been tossed into a crowd; Julio explained Colombians’ short term memory as a necessity of resilience--and that one grenade wasn’t so bad compared to the volcano that killed 20k the next day. We walked down Junin street (a popular date night spot) and to a plaza where Botero has two bird statues- one that was partially destroyed by dynamite detonated during a concert; the other new to represent triumphing over that evil. There were cool murals of African American faces--allegedly the first freed slave in Colombia who ran away and beat up everyone that came to catch him. This plaza--especially the birds--was really powerful. A strong symbol of all that Medellin went through and rose above. After the tour, we grabbed lunch in the palace in El Hueco (creamed corn soup, salad, pork, rice and juice for roughly $5). We took the metro home and did a Nike workout and I thought I would die. We showered, hung out, then went to El Chagra for a 6-course tasting menu (we actually went for a drink, but were surprised by and obligated to do the tasting). All the dishes were focused on Amazon themes and resources- specifically the giant fish, Arapaima. The first course was a smoking drink that tasted spicy and cinnamony--a bit like fireball. The second was a delicious soup that was creamy and cheesy with yucca crumbs. The third was a potato/fish ball eaten with our hands and dipped in a spicy fruit sauce. The fourth was fish and chaufa rice. The fifth was sausage with fruit preserves and cherry tomato. The sixth was dessert--a brownie-like thing and a fruity ice cream. The whole meal ran 300COP (with cocktails which had a dazzling presentation of liquid smoke and a sandbox.. and tip). Before the final course, a man dressed as an indigenous Amazonian came to our table chanting and we didn’t know what to do. He spoke some dialect and then Spanish and offered us to use his pastes to paint on ourselves. We respectfully declined and he moved on. We went to a restaurant down the street for a drink. Jarod got a shot of gin *sin huelo* loll. The restaurant was upscale with several birthdays happening. They gave us hand towels which they made expand amazingly by pouring hot water on them. We went home to bed.

3/12 MEDELLIN-->LIMA

3/12

We woke up around 730 and did a Nike work out at home. Jarod made breakfast of eggs and arepas, then our taxi came and took us to the airport. When we got there, we couldn’t check in at the kiosk--it said we were on standby. We waited in line and the woman seemed to have some issues, but eventually gave us our boarding passes. We got through security, grabbed El Pergamino coffee/chai, and waited at the gate. Jarod got us sandwiches, fruit, and a chocolate donut thing to eat. We were sitting apart during the 3h flight :(. I read the whole time. We were fed on the airplane and I ate the meal despite being full. We got through customs easily and got a taxi to our airbnb in Miraflores (45min away... And during rush hr). We got keys from our concierge and went out for dinner. We had to wait a bit, but the food was delicious. Jarod are a risotto in squids ink with seafood. I had a pumpkin soup with shrimp, corn, and yucca. I was so full afterward and felt kinda sick but not too bad. Being in Miraflores felt like being in Santa Monica--it was an upscale beachside community with a nice mall. We went to bed HOT and I woke up once with an upset stomach, though it wasn’t too bad.

3/13

7 YEARS!! We set alarms around 730am but didn’t get out of bed until 830 or so. We headed out for a work out- running through several beautiful green parks on the coastline, then plopping in the shade for a circuit. After the workout, we went to a beachside cafe and ordered a coffee and a nutella/banana crepe to share. We stopped at home, rinsed my sunscreeny body, then headed to the mall, Larcomar. We popped into a cafe for parfaits and quiche, then went to the bike rental stand upstairs and got two bikes for one hour. After we paid but before we left, the bike attendant crashed/fell off his bike nearby. The irony was overwhelming. We biked along the beautiful coast, to the Bridge of Sighs, then back up a city street of Barranco. The Barranco main square was beautiful, with statues and beautiful plants peppered throughout the plaza. We rode back, returned our bikes to the attendant who was squirting Purell on his scraped knee, and went home. We did laundry, showered, and got ready for our walking food tour. (Snacked on plaintain chips and beers from the market downstairs while we waited.) A driver with an unexplained passenger picked us up around 520pm. He was very kind and gave us two (hot) bottles of water. We drove through traffic into the historical center, where we met our guide Ximena. We walked to a churro place that had a long line, Ximena scurried to the front, then returned with two churros--one with caramel (apparently an ancient sweet in Lima) or a sweet cream. They were scalding hot. We took them to a nearby monastery, with a gated plaza full of pigeons. Ximena told us that the plaza used to be a common place to sell goods that the pigeons and vultures were brought by the Spanish, and that it was still an important place of worship although only 20ish ppl were a part of the monastery (friars?). We went inside and saw into catacombs full of skulls and big bones. There were no cemeteries, so if one had the money, one would pay to be buried in that sacred space. From there, we went to the center of literature (which used to be a big train station, but now only one train goes and it runs maybe 2x/month). Across the street was the oldest bar in Lima. We went in and ate ham sandwiches with onion (pan con chicharron con sarza) and purple juice (chicha morrada - corn juice with cloves and cinnamon). From there we walked to the main plaza. Xime told us about the history of the buildings--the bell towers of the old church had been destroyed by earthquakes and rebuilt... the (some politician’s) mansion had been burned down (by ppl who wanted to scare him, but accidentally destroyed it) and rebuilt. It was a beautiful square full of light and life. From there, we walked to a nearby coffee shop where we talked with the brewer of Peru Uno, Oliver. He let us taste two of his beers--a Belgian trippel and an homage to Peru with chamomile and other local herbs/spices. With the beer we had fried bites called tequenos. Oliver was half Peruvian and have Belgian and very focused on sustainable business practices. He was super friendly and cool. From there, we walked a way to find a stop full of people--vendors with their carts as well as big mats on the ground for gambling and big circles around storytellers or dancers. We are mazamorra morada with rice pudding and another sweet rice that was brown from the sweetener. We then had the healing herbal drink emoliente and anticuchos. At each vendor, xime explained the prep in depth, asking the vendor details in Spanish then relaying the answers to us in English. From there we walked to an old bar for “supte artists” where we had papas a la huancaina, yucca rellena (my fave), and chilcano de pisco. People around us were getting TURNT--an old asian man could barely walk, a guy and girl had 8 beers (large) between them, 3 men had 14, and a table of three had a whole fifth of pisco (45% alcohol). Quite full, we struggled through our food. I finished my share, but J did not finish his! We then met our ride (after Xima first approached the wrong car), dropped Xime off, and made it home. During the tour, Xime said the most protested issue in Peru was gender ideology. We went to bed around 11.

3/14

We woke up around 730. I was feeling sicker than I had, but we set off for a workout anyway. We ran for 20min and did a 30min Nike training. We were dripping with sweat. We then headed down our street for breakfast. Jarod’s came with papaya juice and coffee and he got a water--so much liquid to go with his double decker grilled cheese (basically lol). We walked to Kennedy Park which was beautiful with lots of flowers and cats. We went to a supermarket nearby and bought waters, nuts, plaintain chips, and yogurt. We walked back to our place and chilled for a while. We snacked on yogurt and plantain chips during the afternoon, showered, took a nap, and enjoyed the beautiful patio of our airbnb. We watched a little bit of Coach Carter hehe. Then around 6 we set off for dinner at the ancient ruins Huelca Pucllana. It was a long walk during rush hour, but we made it (slightly sweaty) and were seated immediately (in the room not immediately adjacent to the ruins). We got Topeka? Appetizer—4 from the menu for two people--some delicious bread, and our meals (salmon and risotto for me; tuna and veggies and rice for J). We had pisco sours which were strong and delicious. We admired the ruins for a few minutes before walking back down a central strip of park-like walkway. We made it to park Kennedy and stopped for picarones-fried pumpkin and sweet potato dough. I thought we would get one donut, but we got 6, drizzled in syrup. We carried these home, smacked on a few, and packed up. We went to bed by 10pm in prep for our early travel day the next morning.

3/15 LIMA-->CUSCO

3/15

We woke up around 430 and started getting ready. We snacked on leftover picarone and banana, then went to head downstairs at 515. We were stopped by the man next door (Gerard?) who said he owned the building and worked at Cheesecake Factory in gheridelli square in SF and owned a house in Oakland. We talked for a few minutes and gave him the key (a relief to me; I was worried the doorman might not be there for a hand off). The doorman was there and called a taxi for us--though it took a while, our driver spoke some English and warned us (in spanish) about being robbed at gunpoint in Cusco. I slept during some of the ride and was very groggy when we arrived. We got through security and onto our plane smoothly. I slept against the window the entire flight, but felt super weird--and anxious about altitude sickness--when we arrived. We got off and found our way to a crowd of desperate taxi drivers, all in our face asking if we wanted to ride with them. We said no gracias to them all, then realized we did need one. Jarod was haggling with one guy for a 15s ride but he wouldn’t budge; another driver jumped in and said he would take us for 15s. We rode through more modern Cusco into the more ancient part where we were staying. We arrived at our hostel around 10 and sipped coca tea in the lobby while they prepared our room for us. (Very early but convenient!) our room was beautiful and spacious Jarod lay on the alpaca blanket at the foot of our king bed so as not to get it dirty. We hung for a bit, then went down the street for lunch, back home for the bathroom, then out again to the main plaza. A very friendly man outside a different restaurant said “ah hello guys, we have been waiting for you come on in.” We told him we had already eaten and pressed onward, making our way through people pushing massages, trinkets, and art prints at us. The main plaza was beautiful. Green and surrounded by old churches and hills. We went around the shops at the edge--with lots of aggressive vendors and high end alpaca clothing shops. We stopped to buy sunglasses, then went to the Inka museum. We learned about the pre-inkan people who used basic tools and made basic ceramics and relied heavily on llamas and alpacas. The Incas themselves didn’t develop until ~1100 AD (news to me). They too made lots of ceramics and basic tools as well as little sculptures of animals and foods to sacrifice to the gods. The section on Spanish conquest was unclear because all the signs were in Spanish. It seems they put into power lots of Incan leaders who were pro-Spain and then screwed them over. When we were finishing up, it started pouring rain. We waited briefly for it to let up, then hurried home in the rain. We were struggling to breathe pretty often (>11k feet). At home, we got snuggly and took a nap. We found a dinner spot and went there around 5pm lol. Jarod ate alpaca for the first time. The place was empty and the chef was very sweet and cute and fed us aguaymanto which were delicious. The food was really excellent. We did have some comedy with the light above us--she turned it off to set the mood, then a young girl Came in later and turned it on above us without saying anything... we turned it back off, then the chef asked if we wanted it or not. On the way out, she asked for a tripadvisor review which i will happily write. We went to scope out prices of (fake) alpaca products and desserts. We went to a few stores and saw small “alpaca” blankets ranging from 40s--35s. We will go back to buy one or two before we leave. We bought a brownie and slice of chocolate cake nearby, then took it back to our room to feast on in our king bed. We watched some Simpsons in spanish, then read for a while. We went to go to sleep around 10, but I couldn’t sleep. Felt like I didn’t sleep all night--was up thinking. Maybe too much coca tea (inulin is stimulatory).

3/16

We woke to our alarms around 630, but didn’t get out of bed cuz I felt like I hadn’t slept. Finally got up around 9 and got breakfast at our hotel, which was delicious-especially the cornbread. We chilled in our room and prepped for the day, then ventured out. First, we went to San Pedro market. The streets outside were overflowing with vendors selling hard boiled quail eggs and slices of various fruits. Inside the main market place was literally everything. There was a hot food area, a line of juice vendors, butchers bakers, herb-sellers, woven goods vendors, and more. On the far side, we walked down a street lined with shops selling whole chickens (their naked bodies and weird feet displayed prominently). We then found a second, less touristy market place with more hot food, some dye stands, and even a haircut shop. We walked back and stopped for tamales, but didn’t have small enough bills so the woman sent us away. We found our way back to the plaza des armes and sat down for lunch--Jarod got pizza and I got chicken. From there, we started walking (steeply up) to Sacsayhuaman. We found a nice church with a fabulous viewpoint, then continued along the road to the main gate. There was a guard who said the ticket office was closed and we had to buy tickets in the plaza des armes. We were not motivated enough to walk there and back (still constantly out of breath from the altitude), and it was starting to sprinkle, so we headed home. We hung around home until we had to go to our pre-trek meeting. There were two people missing at the start--who came in 20minutes late absolutely breathless. The guide went over the plan for the next couple days. Everyone was young and seemed outdoorsy and ready. This trio of Australians had bought a lot of the recommended items on the packing list. I felt anxious and a little intimidated. We went to inkazuela for dinner, where we are delicious stews and fresh baked bread. A group of maybe 20 annoying Americans came and sat down and were so loud as we were paying. Embarrassing. We went home and packed and tried to go to bed early because we were waking up at 330 for a 4am pick up to start the drive to start the hike for Salkantay!!

3/17 BEGIN SALKANTAY

3/17 - Day 1 Salkantay

We woke up at 330, finalized our packing, and waited in the lobby briefly before our guide, Erick, arrived to pick us up on foot. He lived nearby our hotel in San Blas. We waited with him for the van, which didn’t seem to be where it was supposed to be. We got everyone picked up (including 3 bonus ppl who were doing a separate one-day trip. They were Thai but our guide Erick had told us they were Chinese lol.) We drove for about 2h on a windy bumpy road, I tried to sleep, but it was fitfull. When we stopped for breakfast I felt like actual shit and was worried I was getting altitude sickness. Jarod didn’t feel well either. I looked at the trekking route and realized we wouldn’t be much higher than Cusco, and this relieved me. We had a big breakfast (eggs, bread, fruit and yogurt, juice, coca tea), and sat by ourselves while the rest of the group bonded. We both started to feel better with the food and fresh air. We got back in the vans and drove another hour before getting off, sunscreening up, officially doing intros with our hiking group, and hitting the trail. Jarod and I were at the front with the other Americans, Chris and Alex from Buffalo, New York. The Australians, Emma, Ben, and Nick, were in the middle, with the Austrians, Anna and Patrick at the end. The start of the hike required some elevation climb, but then it evened out and we walked along an aqueduct in the mountainside for the majority of the trek. I accidentally called Emma Anna when asking her to take a photo. We made it to camp around 12? We were assigned Sky camps, which were tiny but beautiful glass comes with little twin beds in them after a 3-4ft doorway. I read and fell asleep for 7min before it was time for lunch). Lunch was a huge feast--the food was good but a bit cold. We then rested for half an hour and then hiked up to the lake. It was a relatively short hike, but quite steep. I was very out of breath, but led the charge alongside Chris. Anna and Patrick were lagging so far behind, Erick told us to go ahead and then wait at the half way point. Chris and Jarod and I led, waited for the group, then went on some more. The field we were walking through was full of cows and horses grazing, flanked by giant hills on either side. We walked up and over the top and found ourselves at a stunning blue lake. It was breathtaking, with streams from a snowy mountain running into an aquamarine reservoir. We took some photos, then climbed up a ridge along the side, from which we could see the lake as well as the grassy valley we came up through. It started to rain and we saw a beautiful rainbow in the valley but also needed to hurry back down. Everyone put on our ponchos and took a picture. I got my walking sticks for the way down, and they helped on the muddy parts but made me very slow. Jarod and I lagged behind the group as we all charged down the hill. We made it back, met as a team for tea time at 530, then dinner at 630. They had given us snacks, but we didn’t really need them because we were fed so often and so well. (I still ate my cookies earlier.. because they were delicious hehe). We got ready for bed after dinner around 8. I had a swig if Nick’s pisco before bed, then crawled into my sleeping bag and tried (but struggled) to sleep. I got up at 1am because Jarod was getting up. I hissed after him that I wanted to come to the bathroom, but he didn’t hear me. When I stepped outside, he was standing there. (He has walked toward the bathroom and been startled by a cow and come back loll). After that, I had a very hard time sleeping.

3/18 - Day 2 Salkantay

Started to climb, through some grassy fields, up the “Gringo killer” and to Salkantay summit, where it started raining. Emma had to breathe from an oxygen tank at the top (she had had severe altitude sickness in previous visits), and the Austrian couple took horses to the top to save their legs. On the far side of the summit, our trek got truly miserable. Steep decline. Soaked head to toe. I remember thinking, “Wow, we paid to do this.” We got to our midway lunch spot, where I tried to dry my socks, and we commiserated with our group. Thankfully, the rain let up, and the rest of the hike descended into warmer, more tropical forests. For tea time, they made us a freaking cake. We paid to use a shower and went into our little thatched-roof huts, a tiny space with one large bed. I had a dream that I had no feet (likely brought on by the extreme pain I felt in all of my joints!).

3/19 - Day 3 Salkantay

Started the trek with Erick painting our faces with berries. By this time, felt VERY bonded with the group. The hiking this day was much tamer, flatter roads, less extreme climbs/drops, and a fun little cart that we rode across a river. We stopped by a coffee plantation and had lunch there. We took a van some stretch of the drive to end up at the trailhead to Machu Picchu. We went out with our group for dinner, and I felt excited but also sad to be so close to the end of our time with them.

3/20 - Day 4 Salkantay (Machu Picchu!!)

Got up to start the trek to Machu Picchu around 5am(?). It was pitch black, and we CHARGED up the mountain, often annoyed that the people in front of us were not immediately letting us pass them. By the time we arrived at the gate, there were maybe 20 people in line, and we were drenched in sweat but also STOKED to be there. It was pretty chilly and very misty, so we had a few minutes of great visibility, but lots of fog other than that. Erick gave us a tour and some history, then (VERY SADLY) left us. Our group was a little devastated. We explored on our own a little, then headed back down as droves and droves of tourists poured in. We took a bus back and ate lunch (and many beers/pisco sours) at a small cafe while waiting for our train back. We eventually got on a train, which took us to a bus, which took us back to Cusco. We had booked a nicer room so that we could soak up the luxury after some very tough days on the trail. We met the Australians and the Austrians for drinks, and ended up staying up pretty late playing games and chatting with them in a Cusco bar.

3/21 CUSCO-->BOGOTA

3/21

We were awoken at 8 by a mysterious knock. I had some stomach trouble, then came back to bed. We got up at 845 to get breakfast. We ate the hotel breakfast, then went to our room to pack. I was feeling very sad to be leaving, nostalgic for our time on the trail. We packed, left our bags at the front, and went to go buy some “alpaca” blankets. We got two bracelets for J, three small paintings, and two alpaca blankets. The lady told us they were 50s even though we had been to the store before and been told 40, and had seen them elsewhere for 35. Jarod got her down to 40 and we left with them. By now I was hungry and emotional and tired, so I started to tear up over indecision with where to eat. We sat at a cafe and had 11s sandwiches. We went back to the hotel and had them call a cab. We arrived at the airport and checked in, then strangely waited in a room before being allowed through security (not many intl flights out of cusco... seems to require its own protocol). We made it to our gate and onto the plane. I was happy to be sitting next to Jarod (he was K and I was E... but for whatever reason those two are adjacent...) we had steak and vino tinto on the flight ;). We took a taxi home - a man lifted our bags into the trunk then asked for a tip. When we got there, our hosts were nowhere to be found and it was pouring rain. A property manager came out and started talking at us in Spanish very quickly--I think saying that our hosts hadn’t told her anything. She somewhat angrily escorted us outside, and I thought we were going to have to wait there. She then showed us how to work all the locks on the door, then let us inside. We got wine and cheese at the grocery store and snacked on those for dinner

3/22

We woke up around 8 with plans to eat breakfast at home then head to la candelaria for a bike tour at 1030. All appliances rebelled against us. The eggs stuck to the bottom of the pan, and the eggs that didn’t stick barely cooked. I tried to put laundry in but the timer never went down; it just perpetually washed. The toaster oven was a mystery of its own. Regardless, we eventually dined on eggs and arepas, and Jarod got the washer to switch to rinse then dry. We called an uber and got dropped off by the bike shop. We waited in a plaza and chatted with some other travelers. We embarked as a large group and found our way to a plaza with a statue of Simon Bolivar... talked about journalism... then split into two groups and departed. We biked to “the time square of Bogota” and talked about Germans convincing Colombians to drink beer instead of chicha... saw street art and discussed the battle between more/less formal forms... we biked through a neighborhood of mixed architecture and talked about the identity crisis in bogota... we rode to a park and snacked on fruits, then admired a giant map of bogota before riding past more street art (Jarod got a flat as usual), and to a big memorial for those killed in the civil war- tears streaming down the side of a building into a pool of water. We went to a coffee shop and talked some with our guide, Mateo. He talked about working in social services in London and suggested those services weren’t helpful. He showed impatience with others’ inability to learn english. We talked about the education system a bit then started our coffee tour. We biked down a more colorful street--with gov-commissioned art on all the walls. We rode through the red light district to a market for fruit tasting. We then ran across the street and learned how to play Tejo. It was really absurd and fun even though I was bad at it. Then we went back to the bike shop and paid. We got what was supposed to be a light lunch of ajiaco and a tamale to share - it was heavy. We walked to the main plaza and Gabriel Garcia Marques cultural center. We tried to stand outside our lunch spot to get WiFi to order an uber. Instead we went to a cafe and bought banana bread to get their code. We went home, hung out, then headed to el chato for dinner. The host asked if we had a reservation, which we had a hard time understanding. Eventually we were sat at the bar. We got cocktails, the best order of chips and guacamole ever, lamb (Jarod), and fish with mushrooms (me). When we finished dinner, we went to the grocery store to buy more coconut cookies and then we headed home. We went to bed around 11.

3/23

We were slow to start in the morning. We made breakfast and did some research on Monserrate before calling an uber to go there. The uber got lost in a nearby national park and asked several ppl for directions but apparently few of them were helpful. We finally made it to the trail head and hiked the (very tough) ascent of 2000m. It took us about 50min; we arrived around 12. The view was beautiful but there were lots of ppl- even a mass going on. There were lots of stands for foods and trinkets. On the way down we got queso fresco con fruta. We then walked all the way home, zagging through la candelaria, stopping for bunuelos and empanadas, and then by the park for fruit and carrot cake. There were countless street vendors with hot dogs, coconuts, fruits, cell phone minutes, dried food, etc. We got home, napped and snacked, then showered. We went to Bogota Brewing Company around the corner. The waitress talked to us a lot very quickly and we were totally lost. She then brought us four drinks to try -- we were worried we needed to say something about them but didn’t even really know what they were. We ordered beers and a pizza and reflected on the trip and plans for going home. We went to the store for more coconut cookies, then home. We sat and ate for a little, then packed up and went to bed around 10.

3/24 BOGOTA-->SAN FRANCISCO

3/24

345am wake up - was awoken a little early by drunks in the street. Got ready and Jarod called an uber. Rode to the airport, got through immigration and security, wanted crepes and waffles but couldn’t find them. Had to go to the desk to check in (after hearing our names over the speaker). Alarms were going off while we waited... no one seemed to care.

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hollygopossumlovesj2 · 7 years

Text

Jackson Wyoming, Part 2

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader; Mention of Jared Padalecki

Rating/Warning: NC-17 because apparently I’m incapable or writing anything else; Watch out for explicit sexual content, a tiny bit of angst, and whole lot of cliched (hopefully enjoyable) fluff

Word Count: 3,243

A/N: This is the Part 2 to my entry for Lau’s Summer Escape Challenge that the lovely @dancingalone21 put together. There will be more in this verse but I’m not sure when as I have a crap ton of updating to do on on going stories.

Summary: Jensen starts to act strange in the middle of your vacation with him and you begin to assume the worst.

Jackson Wyoming Part 1

Hollygopossum’s Master List

Even though the vacation had gotten off to a rocky start, like always, you and Jensen were able to make the most of it. Since the fiasco at Hunting Island, Jensen had been working really hard on adapting and letting some things roll off of his back.

You’d both been able to explore Jackson with very little disturbance. You’d walked through the downtown area, shopped at the all of the quirky little shops along the way. You’d stopped at a quaint cabin style restaurant that had a steak that was to die for, to eat lunch. Food was a big focus because Jensen had sworn off watching what he ate and that he would do a juice cleanse with Jared when he got back.

Did it bother you that Jensen had a best friend that he did pretty much everything together? No. You were glad that he had such great support while he was away from home. Did you find yourself getting a tiny bit jealous on occasion? Maybe a little, but it was usually fleeting at most. Jensen was very good at always making you feel special, even when you didn’t especially feel special.

In your explorations, you’d stopped at a bakery named Cocolove and taken some pastries and chocolate delicacies for later consumption. Maybe you’d eat them with Jensen on the quiet wrap around porch the next afternoon. Or maybe you’d find out what each sweet tasted like directly off of Jensen’s beautiful, freckled skin that night.

The possibilities were endless.

You were able to enjoy the horseback riding that followed a beautiful trail through grassy plains and around tall plateaus. The sight of Jensen in a pair of dark wash jeans that were heavily worn in a way that wrapped deliciously around his thighs was practically mouthwatering. The way he sat with absolute confidence on his buckskin Quarter horse was a sight you wouldn’t soon forget.

That had only been the first few days of your vacation together and there was a week and a half more of it to go. It might’ve sounded a little jam packed, but there was plenty of time spent around the cabin, too. You’d spent hours in the hot tub, wrapped around each other, sipping on chilled champagne. One evening you’d both fallen asleep in front of the lit fireplace.

It was all more than you would’ve ever expected or hoped for. Jensen had been so excited to explore and try new things that you couldn’t help mirroring his enthusiasm.

However, when Jensen said that he would be preparing a meal on his own Friday night you were a little suspicious. Not because he wanted to try his hand at a recipe, because occasionally he just wanted to try something new. No, it was more that he seemed nervous, which wasn’t a trait that you’d experienced with him very often.

Yes, he’d been nervous before when he’d asked you to go on a date with him, oh so long ago. You’d seen him be nervous about a part or maybe a difficult script. But this… this had you watching him carefully.

You’d watched him become more and more jumpy as the week had progressed. He would sneak off for an hour or two to be off on his own. Often you’d find him behind a locked door in the bedroom, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to someone on the phone. You could never make out any words, not that you were one to eavesdrop, but he now had you extremely worried.

What had he worried about in the past few years that he hadn’t been able to share with you?

You’d gone back to the couch by the time he emerged, looking like he’d nearly ripped his hair out by the roots.

“I’m gonna get started on dinner, so…” His eyes darted to land on anything in the room but you.

You finally couldn’t keep the concern to yourself anymore. “Are you okay, Jensen?”

It was then that your eyes connected, a deep blush settled on his cheeks and the smile he gave you was breath taking as always. “Yeah.”

“Do you want any help?” Baffled didn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling.

“Sure.”

*^*^*^*^*^*

It turned out that Jensen’s version of ‘help’ was keeping your hands off of everything and keeping him company instead. Which, to be honest, didn’t bother you too much because you were shit at putting anything together that was even remotely edible and Jensen knew it.

One of the many things that made you crazy about the man was that not only did he not mind that you were shit at domesticity, but that you marched to the beat of your own drum. He didn’t question when you were able to fix things for yourself, rather than come running to him for help.

You’d learned to be self-sufficient as early as possible. Because of that, you’d run into many men who had a problem with the fact that you wanted them in your life, but didn’t necessarily need them. You thought it was ridiculous to have to shove yourself into some mold so that some man would love you.

But after a slew of horrible relationships, Jensen had literally fallen into your lap.

No, really. You’d been having breakfast with a friend, opting to dine outside because the weather was nice in the early Fall in Austin, TX. There had been a light breeze blowing through the leaves beginning to change in the little trees that lined the main road.

He had come out of nowhere, it had seemed, tripping over his own feet. The Americano coffee in his hand had spilled all over your clothes, but was luckily not quite scorching. However, you hadn’t really been able to focus on your uncomfortable state because you were a little (a lot) entranced. Jensen was balanced precariously, with his ass on the table and his hands on your thigh. His eyes were level with yours, bright green and wide with surprise and a healthy dose mortification when the shock wore off.

If you’d heard the story from Jensen’s point of view, he’d be sure to tell you that it hadn’t been about his clumsy feet, but more about Jared’s big hands that had pushed him. It had been the second time they’d walked past and Jared had noticed the way Jensen’s eyes paid more attention to you than where he was headed. They’d been on hiatus and making their way back home from getting a coffee from the Starbucks on 6th St.

God bless Jared Padalecki.

He’d offered you the use of a clean shirt he had in his gym bag in his car. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him that your bra, soaked in coffee, was going to be seen through the white t shirt he offered. But, you’d taken it, because it might’ve made the walk to your studio apartment a little less uncomfortable.

There had been awkward exchanges and a meeting to return the shirt and grab a cup of coffee. I mean, you were there anyway, right? Then there was mentions of making it up to you with dinner and well… As the saying goes, the rest is history.

Jensen was used to you spending most of your time with your head in the clouds. (Hello, writer here.) So, he hadn’t said anything about you being abnormally quiet as you watched him fidget with something in his pocket while he worked. So far, you’d spent most of the time seated on the kitchen island, legs swinging back and forth with the extra nervous energy Jensen’s behavior continued to contribute to.

He’d poured a glass of spicy merlot that you’d both been heavily sipping on, trying to muscle through the intensely uncomfortable atmosphere created by whatever was bothering him. In spite of all that, it was fun to watch the blush caused by the alcohol travel from his neck, to his cheeks and then the tips of his ears while he worked.

Occasionally, he would stand between your legs and feed you samples of the sauce he was putting together, his eyebrow arched in question for your opinion. When he was close, you would try to pull him in closer. You’d try to work your fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders. But he wouldn’t stay still long enough for it to do any good and you were running out of patience.

“Okay, Jay. What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything, right?” You tried to make eye contact with him, but he was very good at avoiding. Especially when he could turn his back to you and pay attention to the pots boiling on the stove. “I mean; I can tell something’s wrong…” You trailed off, trying to deny yourself the urge to chew on your finger nails. “Is it something with us? Have I done something wrong?”

You were at a point in your life that you weren’t too keen on changing who you were just to make some man happy, but Jensen wasn’t just ‘some man.’ In fact, he’d effortlessly broken through all of your misgivings. So, if there was something in particular that he’d found offensive, there was a chance that you’d consider changing things around.

“I just… We were having a good time at the beginning of the week. I know I had that stupid headache, but I got rid of it and I thought that things were going well…” You were rambling and utterly pathetic. Not to mention so wrapped up in what could be going wrong and so focused on what was going on in your own head that Jensen suddenly being in your personal space was a surprise.

“Hey, no. It’s not that at all.” His hands were immediately reaching out to touch. To smooth over your shoulders and down your arms before he held your hands in his. After a deep sigh and the roll of his eyes he muttered, “I’m ruining it.”

You were stunned into silence. All self-involvement forgotten as you registered the miserable look on Jensen’s face. “What?” You were reaching out to pull him closer, to get your hands on his warm sides before you even registered what you were doing. “Jay, what are you talking about?”

His small laugh was humorless, “I thought about this so much. I figured that if I went all out and made a ginormous deal about it that you might be intimidated or even scared. So, then, I thought we’d spend a night in with just the two of us because you seem to like to spend time with me in this way. I thought…” His eyes finally connected with yours as he reached out to touch your cheek. “I thought I’d do something nice for us and then casually ask you.”

You were confused and utterly terrified. If he had been trying to communicate something without completely rocking your world, he was failing. This had to be it, then. The moment when all of your weird quirks and extreme independence had finally gotten to him. Plus, the invisible destruction of migraines couldn’t be helping matters. Shit.

“I didn’t want to put any pressure on you and now I realize that I have without even having to try so hard. So, I’m just gonna ask, right now. No matter what your answer is, we’ll have a nice dinner and we’ll forget this entire awkward night even happened, okay?”

He seemed desperate for your compliance, and who were you to make Jensen desperate? So you nodded slowly, watching as the green of his eyes changed shades with the lighting in the room.

He was even closer now, wedged between your thighs with both hands on your face, his lips soft on yours. He didn’t pull back very far, the soft pants of his breath gentle on your skin. “Y/N, will you marry me?” You knew his smile was bashful and a little self-deprecating. “I promise I don’t want you to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. We can get a cook or something so I know you’re getting some nutrition but… I don’t care how we do it. I just want you, with me. Always.”

The soft, sweet words were like a glancing blow. The hit wasn’t direct or nearly as painful as you’d geared yourself up to receive. The question terrified you, making your heart thunder in your chest, your flight response kick in, making your breath choppy and your skin sweat.

But, that wasn’t all.

There was a surprising amount of giddy happiness bubbling up from your chest and threatening to come out as a laugh that you knew would be misinterpreted. You’d dreaded but simultaneously dreamed of this the moment you realized that Jensen was not just a fling. When you’d realized that you loved this man with all the stupid, damaged bits of your heart.

You pulled away, needing to see the sincerity that you knew would be radiating from his eyes like the man was made of all things good in this world. He didn’t disappoint, but you also saw the suffocating fear that made his pupils dilate and your heart ache.

“Yes, Jay. God, ye-.” His lips were on yours before you could finish saying the words. His body and mouth were crushing against yours with all of the pent up anxiety and fear that Jensen had been putting you both through for the past couple of days.

Your arms were around him, just as crushingly tight as your hands thread through his hair to angle his face so that you could kiss him a little deeper. So that you could get just that little bit closer to the warm, solid, (and so damn good smelling) form of Jensen in your arms.

He whispered curses with each gasped breath between kisses before he was able to pull the ring he’d been hanging onto for months, out of his pocket. He wordlessly slid the precious metal, warmed by the time it had spent in his pocket, onto your ring finger. You marveled at it only long enough to think fleetingly that it was gorgeous before you were kissing him again with every molecule of love and happiness you had in your body.

You slid to the edge of the counter, wrapping your legs around his hips and could feel that Jensen was hard in his jeans. The firm pressure caused him to grip the back of your shirt in his fists and groan into your mouth. He pressed in closer, his hands pressing in to grip your ass, rocking his hips against you in a move that made him growl. “Fuck, that ring looks so good on you.”

You found that you were skilled in pushing your hands between the two of you and pulling the button on his jeans loose. You dragged the zipper down slowly, relishing in the rapid increase of Jensen’s breath as the tiny vibrations against his dick made him squirm.

Everything progressed rapidly after that. Jensen dragged your shorts and panties down in one move, letting his jeans fall to his ankles. He didn’t even pull his boxer briefs down below his ass before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and lining himself up. The coolness of the granite beneath your bare ass cheeks barely registered before he was sliding in.

The slow push and immediate feeling of ‘full’ pushed the air out of your lungs and you clung to him just to stay upright. He was so wound up and so were you. Who knew that agreeing to marry someone sometime in the future could be such an aphrodisiac.

He had his hand in your hair and every time he thrust his hips, he tugged and sent a hot blaze of pleasure straight to your core. You could hear things being knocked off the counter, loud crashes of glassware falling to the ground, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was that Jensen was nailing you to the counter like his life depended on it.

It was all over rather quickly when Jensen’s thumb squeezed between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. His breath was ragged and humid as he continued to press in close, his lips resting against your ear.

It rarely ever happened this way, but the desperation of the moment had you both orgasming at the same time. You vaguely recognized that he was shaking apart, the gasped sound of your name muffled tightly against your neck.

You were still coming down, your breathing still heavy in your chest, when Jensen chuckled. The sound was rough and that combined with the absolute fucked out tone of his voice when he said, “Well, there goes the deposit,” caused latent pleasure to shiver in your belly.

You took a moment to compose yourself, the flood of pleasure giving way to absolute wonder in the moment. You leaned your face away, unwilling to move the rest of you and lose the connection of every part of him possible. “You really wanna marry me?”

“Yeah,” He gently grazed your nose with his, breaths still tickling your face, before he rested his forehead against yours. “I really wanna marry you.”

There would be time for you to freak out over your quick response. For you to think through every little thing Jensen said to look for clues that he wasn’t being honest. You’d probably have to ask him every now and then, even after you were married to him, if he was sure he’d made the right choice. But for now, you let him slide you off the ruined marble counter top and carry you off to bed.

It would be about ten minutes into a well-deserved cuddle that Jensen would realize he’d left dinner to ruin on the stove. He would return in only moments, after turning the burners off and taking a second to look at the ruined pots, to curl around you. “Well, I guess we’d lost the deposit anyway… How do you feel about pizza from town?”

You could tell that there was an underlying tension from things not going as Jensen had planned. Maybe he was even feeling a little guilty, as crazy as that sounded, for ruining dinner and having to do something like grabbing a pizza last minute. However, you could also tell that he was trying his best to let it go. How could he not know that these little imperfections were what made this special?

You rolled around to face him, feeling all of his warm, soft skin against yours since you’d ditched your clothes on your way to the bedroom. “Pizza sounds amazing.” You held his olive green gaze a little longer than was strictly necessary, but he seemed to get what you were trying to communicate. That, it was alright that things didn’t go as planned. That you were just grateful as fuck to be in his arms and be able to share a moment like this with him.

Maybe you’d have a chance to put this into words soon, but it would have to be after this nap because you were completely pleasure dazed. Just maybe, it would be over the first slice of pizza since you’d agreed to marry the best man you’d ever known.

Tagging: (Forevers): @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @tas898, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyxx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @mysteriouslyme82, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @spn67-sister, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangirl, @weasleywinchester-blog, @easelweasel, @akshi8278, @mandymoiselle1970, @glendagiggles

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear what you think. I haven’t given up on my other stories. My brain just works in stupid and mysterious ways...

#Lau's Summer Escape Challenge #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles reader insert #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles angst #jensen ackles fluff #spnfanficpond #guppy fic #jensen ackles fan fic #jensen ackles fan fiction #hollygopossum writes #jensen ackles rpf #jackson wyoming part 2

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