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romanovthinkver · 6 months

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pov: you’re scarlett johansson’s wife // sfw headcanons

scarlett knows you’re in love with New York and despite having drivers that can easily bring you to one side to another of the city, she knows you prefer taking the subway. you’re favourite is the Q train where you can see the best landscapes as it’s an open train space. your wife always makes sure to pick up a spot by the door, she always says “i want to see that beautiful smile on your face the whole ride” and as you watch the train going from Manhattan to Brooklyn, scarlett wraps an arm around your waist and looks up at you with pure love.

scarlett loves how you adore your county despite its bad sides. you’re here for work so you don’t go back home as much as you would want. the last time was at christmas two years ago with all the family. little pieces of your culture are spread in the house tho, through the food, the flag you hung in your home office, some products you buy at the authentic drug stores owned by people of your home-country. you also started to teach the kids your childhood traditions, your favourite meals, your native language even. sometimes you go out in typical restaurants, or the one that claims to be typical when they’re not, and your wife has to listen you ramble about how they couldn’t make a simple dish of your land and instead ruined it. “can you believe baby? they ruined it, look at this: chicken. why? there’s no chicken in the original recipe and yet i see chicken here, why you americans put chicken everywhere?” scarlett would laugh and sometimes record your little grumbles. the kids loves when you, their mama, cook home land dishes of a culture they’re starting to feel like theirs. your wife loves when your accent rolls off your tongue when you’re tired or pissed, sometimes even when you two fuck roughly; it send her over the edge in no time. however the thing she likes the most is when you speak in your native language giving her or the kids pet names or when you whisper “i love you.”

you’re the biggest supporter ever. the way your eyes shine when you stand beside scarlett at movies premiers, it’s unmatched. you always buzz around your wife when she’s being prepared by make-up and hair-stylists taking extra time to snap some phots of her proudly. you make sure her dress is always perfect and adjust it often during the carpet. you make sure scarlett is always hydrated, not only with alcohol but with water too!, and fed because these things are stressful and your lady has to be healthy. you step back when she poses for paparazzi photos even tho she insists to have you beside her, she would softly place her hand on your chest clothed by the black jacket and shares smiles and little whispers. “you’re so beautiful, baby” or “i can’t take my eyes off you” these are the words that you find to whisper to her in that moments when your eyes are glued to her form, your hand gently cradles her back. you in the end step back giving your wife the deserved moment in the shiny flashes of the photographer’s bulbs, she poses and you look at her, sometimes you would snap a few picture too of her beside the paparazzi. scarlett would peck your lips amidst the event, they reassure you like a warm blanket and she softly pass her slender fingers to wipe her lipstick off your lips. you watch the movie with rapt attention because despite everything, before meeting her, you were and are a fan of her movies. in the end you always hug her and pepper her lips and cheeks whispering “congratulations my love, you were brilliant!”, “i can feel the oscar baby, can i start your campaign now?”, “i’m so incredibly proud of you, you’re a movie star” or “look at that baby, they’re all clapping and cheering for you, you’re so inspiring.” at the after party you both dance, engage in conversation with people and sometimes only seat at the bar together. you make sure to drink only safe drinks and let your wife party as she deserve. you take care of her and by the end of the night she’s not much sober but you steady her holding by her waist, your suit jacket always ready to shield the woman from the cold gently rest on her shoulders and her heels accomodate your feet while she wears you’re much more comfortable shoes.

scarlett started a skin care brand line with her friend and co-founder, kate foster. you, despite not knowing a thing about skin care, started to be supportive since the first day. however you didn’t know your wife would make you be a tester. you forgot how many times you ran around the house to dodge her “c’mon baby let’s try this eye cream, i swear it will be good for your eyes!” or the times she would let you sit on the bathroom sink with a blue argyle mask on your face, a hand band with the brand logo that would definitely make your curls frizzy and messy. you would groan and grumble a lot but your wife is always quick to kiss you. in the end you fell into a routine of doing this pampering ritual every night. slowly you started to learn a lot about skin care and your wife’s work. you also would crash often at her office to just bring donuts and coffee or sneak to spend more time with your wife and the team. and much to your dismay, scarlett will never stop treating you like a tester, she’s already planning on dragging you at the offie to record some funny videos of her putting on your face brand new face creams.

talking about videos, you hate cameras and photos. oh you’re the opposite of your wife in this department. you’re a diplomat, an ambassador specifically, so you barely stand in front of cameras and address speeches, a safe way to do what you love without struggling with the media press. however since you got into a relationship with your wife and got married, you quickly became a target to paparazzi’s cameras. you awkwardly stand beside your wife when you’re taking photos at the event she has to attend, but scarlett is always there to calm you down with soft touches, whispers and little pecks. “it’s okay baby, focus on me, everything’s is alright”. when they catch you in the street you go protective over the kids and wife putting your discomfort aside. “little one it’s okay, look at mama, everything is okay. scarlett, baby, come closer to me. it’s okay”. when you’re alone, you just hide behind a hoodie hood. you rarely talk to the microphones and usually only offer politely smile and shield your anxious eyes.

scarlett never saw you crying in the years you’ve been together and probably she thought she would never. this until your wedding day arrived. oh, boy! the moment you saw her walking down the aisle you started crying for her endlessly beauty and the overwhelming love you have for her. after that you cried again, much harder, when your little girl was born. scarlett loves teasing you a lot about it. you blush rolling your eyes playfully and dismissing her with a groan.

you rarely fight but when you do, and it’s always for silly things, it doesn’t take much to crack the hard shell. one of you crawl in the arms of the other not much more than 1 hour later. you’re an ambassador so your job is to make peace, after toxic experiences in your past relationship, your communication level is high and you’re lucky enough to have found scarlett that is on the same page as yours. scarlett would hold you close and kiss the crown of your head. “i’m so sorry my love, i promise to work better on these things.” you would kiss her knuckles and whisper “i’m sorry too, baby, we’ll work on them together.”

at the end of the day it’s just you and your wife. you softly sway in the gold sunrise painting your skins. scarlett arms wrapped around your neck cradling the glass of wine between her hands while she leans to ghost your lips. your hand on her hip, the other hold your glass of wine close to the chest. you both hum the song that is putted on the background while behind you food cooks on the stove and mixes with the noises of the city. it’s peaceful, it’s a paradise, it’s you and the love of your life in a life that isn’t perfect, but has a glimpse of perfection shared together.

a/n: pt.2? nsfw part?

#lesbian #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #romanoffthereal #natasha romanov #the outset #wlw #headcanon #headcannons #scarlett johansson x colin jost #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #woman x woman

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dduane · 5 months

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Of parsnips and parsnip soup

So the question of parsnips, and particularly parsnip soup, came up secondary to this quote from an interview with Terry Pratchett. (Thanks to @captainfantasticalright for the transcription.)

Terry: “You can usually bet, and I’m sure Neil Gaiman would say the same thing, that, uh, if I go into a bookstore to do a signing and someone presents me with three books, the chances are that one of them is going to be a very battered copy of Good Omens; and it will smell as if it’s been dropped in parsnip soup or something in and it’s gone fluffy and crinkly around the edges and they’ll admit that it’s the fourth copy they’ve bought”.

And when @petermorwood saw this, he immediately reblogged it and added four recipes for parsnip soup.

These kind of surprised some folks, as not everybody knew that parsnips were an actual thing: or if they were, what they looked like or were useful for.

The vegetable may well be better known on this side of the Atlantic. (And I have to confess that as a New Yorker and Manhattanite, with access to both great outdoor food markets and some of the best grocery stores in the world, I don't think that parsnips ever came up on my personal radar while I was living there.) So I thought I'd take a moment to lay out some basics for those who'd like to get to know the vegetable better.

The parsnip's Linnaean/botanical name is Pastinaca sativa, and in the culinary mode it's been around for a long time. It's native to Eurasia, and is a relative to parsley and carrots (with which it's frequently paired in the UK and Ireland). The Romans cultivated it, and it spread all over the place from there. Travelers who passed through our own neck of the woods before the introduction of the potato noted that "the Irish do feed much upon parsnips", and in the local diet it filled a lot of the niches that the potato now occupies.

You can do all kinds of things with parsnips. The Wikipedia article says, correctly, that they can be "baked, boiled, pureed, roasted, fried, grilled, or steamed". But probably the commonest food form in which parsnips turn up around here is steamed or simmered with carrots and then mashed with them: so that you can buy carrot-and-parsnip mash, ready-made, in most of our local grocery chains.

It also has to be mentioned that most Irish kids have had this stuff foisted on them at one point or another, and a lot of them hate it. (@petermorwood would be one.) I find it hard to blame anybody for this opinion, as one of the parsnip's great selling points—its spicy, almost peppery quality—gets almost completely wiped out by the carrot's more dominant flavor and sweetness.

Roasting parsnips, though, is another matter entirely. They roast really well. And parsnip soups are another story entirely, as it's possible to build a soup that will emphasize the parsnip's virtues.

So, to add to Peter's collection, here's one I made earlier—like yesterday afternoon, stopping the cooking sort of halfway and finishing it up today.

I was thinking in a vague medioregnic-food way about a soup with roasted bacon in it, but not with potatoes (as those have been disallowed from the Middle Kingdoms for reasons discussed elsewhere. Tl;dr: it's Sean Astin's fault). And finally I thought, "Okay, if we're going to roast some pork belly or back bacon, then why not save some energy and roast some parsnips too? The browned skins'll help keep them from going to mush in the soup."

So: first find your parsnips. I used four of them. You peel them with a potato peeler...

...sort of roughly quarter them, the long way...

...then chop them in half the short way, toss them in a bowl with some oil—olive oil, in this case—spread them on a baking sheet, and season them with pepper, coarse salt, and some chile flakes. (I used ancho and bird's-eye chile flakes here.)

These then went into the oven for about half an hour, and came out like this.

While that was going on, I got a block of ready-cooked Polish snack bacon out of the freezer.

On its home turf, this is the kind of thing that turns up (among other ways) sliced very thin on afternoon-snack plates, with cheeses and breads. But we like to score it and roast it to sweat some of the fat out, and then use it in soups and stews and so forth.

So I scored this chunk on most of its sides, browned it in a skillet, then shoved the skillet into the oven for twenty minutes or so. Here's the bacon after it was done.

While it was cooking, I made about a liter of soup stock from a couple of stock cubes. If you can get pork stock cubes, they'd be best for this, but beef works fine.

This then went into the pot and was brought up to just-boiling while the bacon and the parsnips were chopped into more or less bite-sized chunks. After that, the meat and veg were added to the pot and the whole business was left to simmer for a couple of hours while I went off to do some line editing.

Finally I turned it off and left it on the stove overnight (our kitchen is quite cool, it was in no bacteriological danger from being left out this way) and then finished its simmering time around lunchtime today.

And here it is. (...Or was. It was very nice.)

...Anyway, this is only one of potentially thousands of takes on parsnip soup. Recipes for more robust versions—based on mashed parsnips and more vegetables, or different meats—are all over the place.

Meanwhile, as regards how much damage this soup could do to your copy of Good Omens if you dropped yours in it, I'd rate this at about 5 damage points out of 10. ...Call it 5.5 if you factor in the chiles. Soups along the boiled-and-mashed-parsnip spectrum would probably inflict damage more in the 7.50-8.0 range. But your results may vary: so I'll leave you all to your own experimentation.

#parsnips #parsnip soup #Good Omens #Terry Pratchett #Neil Gaiman #recipes

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sharkiethrts · 1 year

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[𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮]

𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘗𝘛: 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦?

g/n reader

: jing yuan and reader are not in an established relationship, jing yuan is pining (ineffectively) at the reader

: 446 words

Qingzu did her best to not designate her attention to the elephant in the room today in the Divine Foresight but duty calls. It started when the general asks for a mirror, blathering about the apparent magnification in the front camera of phones. Even the most developed technologies have their flaws, as does all of nature, his laugh resounds across the hall with his talk.

She didn't understand his intentions with the mirror initially, but now that she does: "Jing Yuan, just in case you have forgotten, the documents piled up in front of you require your attention as well," when the man mentioned doesn't react, "And as for the concave of your facial features, please leave that interest at home."

Surprisingly, the man finally snaps out of his diligent distraction with a view that the Counselor has never seen before: red ears. However, the general's recovery is quick, much to Qingzu's amusement. But to her chagrin, it did not stop the General's shameless inquiry, "Am I handsome, Qingzu?"

"...Please understand that I am not a present figure in the fashion industry nor do I have any intention on recommending the General of Luofu Xianzhou to Xianzhou magazines any time soon."

The guards guarding at the gates of the Divine Foresight bite their tongues; it wasn't like they weren't used to the General's occasional remarkable behaviours, but vanity is certainly a new look. After all, the general doesn't even bother to brush his hair in the morning, letting birds build a temporary residency in his hair whenever he falls asleep. It's a miracle that there isn't an ecosystem building up in the general's hair, to say the least.

So, what's with the sudden change? Everyone in the Divine Foresight is in common agreement that the General is... in love.

And it makes sense: he has been caught outside the Divine Foresight more. Well, he's rarely in the Divine Foresight, really- but his frequent "breathers" are often at his own garden, where weeds pile up due to the General's negligence and how demanding his work can be (the general also claims to not need cleaners at home, that his title doesn't need to worry the lives of others). However, just recently, the General often strolls about at the market places and well known tourist sights of the Xianzhou Luofu, sometimes returning with an uncharacteristically large smile.

"...Is that a yes or a no, Qingzu?"

Qingzu ignores his further probing, "That reminds me (it really didn't, it's just a desperate attempt at deterring the general's awkward intentions), our friends from the Astral Express seems to be running a store- 'Express Eatery', was it?" She watches as the general's gaze light up, "promising foods from all around the universe, foreign to the native xianzhou's gaze. Cosmic Fried Rice is particularly famous for it's savoury mix of vegetables and-"

"- Where is it?" The general stands up abruptly, eyes shining more than ever.

"At the gate of the Central Starskiff Haven- you can't miss it," Qingzu answers with a steadfast response, just glad to have conducted Jing Yuan's attention away from her.

The general leaves almost immediately, taking his pouch of Strale with him. But it seems to Qingzu's celebration is short lived, because the general whom is about to leave turns to ask another difficult question, "Do I look satisfactory? How is my hair? It isn't too unruly, I hope?"

Qingzu clenches her fists behind her back, "Why don't you ask [name] that yourself once you reach the eatery?"

The ears of the general turns vibrant red again.

#jing yuan #honkai star rail #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan x reader #hsr #jingyuan x reader #jingyuan #jing yuan has a crush on reader #jing yuan headcanons #jing yuan scenarios #honkai jing yuan #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan imagines #sharkie works ; jing yuan #sharkie works ; all honkai

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glamatron3000 · 4 months

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The Unofficial Malto Family Cookbook

I was inspired by the longing of @ihatebrainstorm for Alex's cooking to do a deep dive into just what Earthspark's best dad was making, so here it is! The Unofficial Malto Family Cookbook!

Just a note, I am in no way familiar with Filipino cooking (I mostly cook American, European, and Japanese-inspired food in my day to day) but I'd like to think I am a skilled practitioner of Google-Fu, so here's what I was able to find!

These dishes were either shown or mentioned, sometimes both, in season 1 and the first half of season 2. I believe I got them all, but I did pan through the episodes pretty quickly, so let me know if I missed any!

Embutido

First up is the main dish from episode 1, which already sent me on an adventure trying to identify because it was never named. After poking around a few Filipino recipe sites I managed to identify it as embutido, which is described as a Filipino meatloaf. Dot mentions that it is her favorite dish.

Lumpia

The side dish of Dot's celebratory new job meal is lumpia, Filipino egg rolls! This dish appears regularly in the Malto family's meals, seen twice again in the first half of season 2.

Pandesal

Okay, so technically this is probably just a store-bought dinner roll, but why not try to find if there's a Filipino recipe it could be? Our boy Alex seems like the type of guy to pull out all the stops when it comes to feeding his family. The closest I could find is pandesal to round out our episode 1 meal.

Breakfast Burrito

In episode 2, we see Robbie lure Alex out to the barn with a picnic of breakfast burritos. Now surely there's also a Filipino style recipe for this, yes? Yes!

Longganisa

In episode 3, we see Alex frying up a pan of sausage for breakfast. Could be store bought, but it's also possible that it's a traditional Filipino pork sausage called longganisa.

Tortang

Here's our first one that was only mentioned and not shown. In episode 4, Alex tries twice to coax Bee into frying tortillas with his stingers. At first I thought he meant just regular flour or corn tortillas, but the way he was talking made it sound like a main dish and not just an ingredient. So after a bit of digging I found a dish called tortang, which is sometimes referred to as tortilla from what I can gather (citation needed -- I am a dumb American). Unlike the sort of tortilla you would use in a wrap or burrito, this dish is closer to an omelet. Those with more knowledge of Filipino cooking please feel free to correct me if I got this wrong.

Bibingka

Another only mentioned in episode 4, this is the dish Robbie would have picked to have for dinner for a week if he'd won the weekly chore race. Of course a child would pick a sweet dessert for dinner if he could.

Spam Steak

Okay, this was another mystery for me, particularly because of the way everything is stylized in the show. In episode 5, we see Alex frying up another breakfast food. I thought maybe it was a kind of french toast, but the browning texture didn't look quite right for that. So I browsed through the breakfast section of the recipe website I've been using and the closest I've found is this crispy spam steak recipe. Apparently spam is pretty popular in the Philippines, so it's possible! Again, if anyone more knowledgeable has another option, please correct me.

Snickerdoodles

In episode 7, Alex makes bagged lunches for Mo and Robbie's first day at school. While we don't know what's in those lunches, Alex did mention that he included his homemade snickerdoodles. Snickerdoodles originate from Dutch/German immigrants who settled in New England, and since there's a lot of Dutch/German heritage in Pennsylvania where the Maltos live, I'm fairly confident this is something Alex picked up in America. But just for fun, I did find an interesting Filipino/Mexican-inspired variant of this classic cookie, so you get a two for one deal with this one!

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me post more in a single post, so the rest will have to be in a Part 2 reblog!

#maccadam #tf earthspark #earthspark spoilers #alex malto #cooking #recipes

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betyloca · 7 months

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Imagine: the group meeting the Dixons' best friend when she is much younger than them.

You were sitting near the group while you were helping to prepare the food, your friends were sitting on the other side of the camp.

Andrea: What a nice knife, where did you get it?

Y/N: Oh, Merle gave it to me on my birthday.

Andrea: What?

Lori: Are you his little sister?

y/n: no

Glenn: Your daughter? I wouldn't be surprised

y/n: ha not your friend

everyone:* in shock*

y/n: *looking* what's happening!

Amy: How old are you?

y/n: I'm 19, why?

t-dog: you are a girl what do you do by hanging out with adults

y/n: that's none of your business* while you're doing your thing*

t-dog: have they ever done something to you?

You turned to look at him with a frown.

y/n: excuse me, did they do something to me?

You began to move violently towards him, showing the knife.

Andrea took you by the arm, wanting to stop you.

t-dog: don't worry, it's not a big deal, just ask.

y/n: it's no big deal, you say you're a fucking idiot.

wanting to free you from andrea

Andrea: calm down

y/n: I don't calm down at all, I'm going to kill him

t-dog: it seems that spending time with them affected you

y/n: son of a bitch

You let go of Andrea and rushed to hit him right in his face.

lori: stop it y/n

Andrea: enough y/n

Daryl watching what happens

Daryl: What the hell is going on there?

Merle: Is that Y/N?

Daryl: Fuck.

Seeing what you're doing, he gets up quickly to stop you. Glenn tried to get you off T-Dog, but he only got hit in the nose.

Daryl: hey hey enough

taking you by the shoulders while merle helps you get off of him

Merle: wow look how you did it well doll

Daryl turned to look at him, rolling his eyes.

Daryl: Now is not the time.

Merle: Whatever.

Daryl: Let's go, darling.

While they were walking to their stores, Merle approached you, grabbing you by the waist.

Merle: Well done, we trained you well.

he said giving you a kiss on the cheek daryl vote to see them smiling

Daryl: leave it alone

Merle: Don't be jealous, Dalena.

I'm sorry if I write wrong, English is not my native language.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #merle dixon imagines #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon #twd imagine #twd headcanons #twd x reader

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uluvjay · 10 months

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Christmas away from home- J. Slafkovsky

Juraj Slafkovsky x fem! Reader

In which you do your best to make your boyfriends first Christmas away from home as special as possible

Warnings?; none really, pure fluff, some kisses and tears, talks of being away from home and missing family, poorly proofread so I apologize for any errors

Day 4 of my ficmas celebration!

“Have a good trip, I love you” You spoke softly against his lips as he gathered his things to exit the car.

“I love you to, call me before you go to bed?.”

“Of course.” You smile, giving him a wave as he looked back before his large frame entered the back of the bell center.

The team were going on a week and half road trip and that gave you the perfect amount of time to turn your and Juraj’s apartment into a winter wonderland.

Christmas was a few weeks away and you had noticed the sadness appear in your boyfriend’s eyes every time one of his teammates spoke about returning home for the holidays.

As a Montréal native you didn’t know how your boyfriend felt to be without his family for the holidays, but you were determined to do your best to make his Christmas feel as special as you could.

After Starbucks, multiple different stores, food, and a pretty dent in your bank account you found your way home. Bags littered the floor of the apartment as you tackled the tree first, doing your best to build the seven foot tree by yourself.

And while you successfully got the tree up yourself, you left the boxes of ornaments around the tree so you and Juraj could decorate it together.

Within the next few days you had made every room in the small apartment look like it came straight from a hallmark movie. And soon you were running to the door when you heard the key in the lock.

Opening the door Juraj was met with the sight of you in plaid pajama pants and white T-shirt, behind you in the living room stood a massive tree that was bright but bald, the mantle was decked with a beautiful garland and two stockings that had your initials on the front.

He could see a knitted blanket draped over the back of the couch; one that looked oddly like one of his mothers, and the mistletoe hanging in the entryway of the kitchen beside him had caught his eye.

“What’s all of this?” He smiled brightly, while he pulled your body into his arms.

“Christmas decorations.” You beamed, eyes searching his as they took in everything around him.

“It looks beautiful-did you get us matching pajamas?” He laughed finally noticing the matching pants in your arm.

“Yes, I know you’re missing being home and how upset you are that you can’t go back for the holidays so I wanted to try and make it as homey as possible.” You blushed when his eyes widened.

He looked down at you but he couldn’t speak, never in all of his years has anyone ever done something like this for him. And after countless years of spending his holidays alone and away from home, this had meant so much for him however he couldn’t make the thank you come out of his mouth.

“I know this is a lot, if you don’t like it we can take it down, I understand i shoul-“ you started but got cut off by the feeling of his lips against yours.

His large hands held your cheeks while his lips moved against yours, the kiss was full of passion and love, telling you everything he wanted to say without even having to speak.

“Thank you, I love it. And I love you.” He whispered, small tears hovering at his waterline.

“I love you to J.” You whispered back, a hand reaching for one of his that still held your face.

“Come on, let’s go decorate the tree and watch some movies. I have your mom’s cookies in the oven.”

#juraj slafkovsky #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky fluff #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #montreal canadiens #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #jay’sficmas

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canthelpit0 · 5 months

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American

Pairing: matt x poc!reader

Wordcount: 2.2K +

Summary: reader is a third culture kid. Her parents are immigrants, and she hates it. She wants to be everything she is not.

Warnings: angst, crying, hating your own culture, racism, internalized racism, middle eastern!reader, reader discerned as average, established relationship, pet names, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no oc; reader described to have curly hair, brown eyes and hair.

(A/N: not me reflecting lmao. asks and req are open <3 feedback is appreciated! Ps: I am Türkisch, and this isn’t meant to be racist, it’s just thoughts about myself that I used to have portrayed by y/n. This is for awareness abt internalized racism)

I hate my culture. I hate my frizzy hair, I hate the fact that my eyes are a plain brown. I hate the fact that I’m not white. I hate that when someone asks me where I’m from and I say America, they go “no where are you actually from?”. I hate my brain. I hate the way I think. I hate the way I wish I was someone else. I hate myself, and I hate the way I hate myself.

I was never considerably pretty. Well not really. Sure the facial harmony, the potential is there. But I’m just not good enough.

I wish my hair was straight.

I hate the way I hate my own culture. I really do. But I literally can’t fit into the American beauty Standards , but I can’t fit into the middle eastern ones either.

My home country is America. I was born and raised here. But both of my parents are immigrants from turkey. -Wich means we’re not very wealthy.

I hate it when people ask me where I’m from because I look ‘exotic’.

I wouldn’t consider turkey my home country. I hate it there. And I don’t know if it’s just my internalized hatred or whatever, but I do.

Even in the country itself I’m not considered Turkish enough. In the US I’m not American enough…

I’m never enough.

Not to my parents, not to my siblings, not to my boyfriend. Not to myself. I’m not good enough.

we go to turkey for vacation every year and I’m sick of it.

I speak the language enough to communicate. I hate half the food because I’m a picky eater. It hurts even more because I’m not even considered properly Turkish.

I hate the way all my cousins, except for one, live In turkey. I hate the way they’re so close to each other. And despite being in the cousins group chat, they’ll always send in pictures of them all together. Pictures that I’ll never be in, simply because I’m halfway across the world.

Years ago, whenever we visited, it didn’t matter, the fact that I live so far away, but now they were judgy.

Besides I don’t trust anything there. Sure the stuff there is cheaper, but you could literally put me in an official Nike store and I would still tell you the shoes are fake, even tho they obviously aren’t.

I did an internship at a disposition and shipping company. I know that those shoes come from the same warehouse. I just don’t trust anything Turkish.

Growing up with so many myths that my parents taught me to live by, until I realized it’s just a bunch of bullshit, made me believe that nothing purchased in turkey is of any quality.

And it’s not even to hate on the nation or anything, it’s probably my own fault.

I hate the way all the other middle easternerns are so confident in where they’re from, flexing the fact that they naturally know more languages than Americans.

But I just wish I was one of those stupid Americans. Oblivious to the rest of the world and all the flaws in human nature. I wish I was a skinny white woman born into an upper middle class American family.

But instead I have to be what I am.

I hate it when I hear people talk in my ‘native’ language. Even tho that’s the only language we speak at home.

Sometimes I feel great knowing that I have culture and just naturally great genetics, and potential and resources to be better than those stuck in a village in my ‘home’ town.

But then it dawns on me that I’m not American, even if I was born and raised here it’s not my home country. And as much as I feel like it should be and is, it’s not.

It dawns on me that I’m not white. I’m not one of them. And I never will be.

And that makes me question why Matt is even dating me.

There is so much internal self hatred and racism going on in me, yet still he chose me over those white girls.

And I don’t get it.

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I sigh. Let’s ignore the fact that I’m not white like that and will never be. Even being middle eastern, or whatever the hell turks are considered, I don’t look like that either.

I fit literally nowhere. Sure I have dark brown hair and brown eyes, I look pretty average. But I still don’t look Turkish, I don’t have that straight hair or painfully skinny body.

I let out a heavy sigh without even noticing. These thoughts were getting loud again.

I hate how strict and conservative my parents are. I hate the painful lack of empathy they show, because I always have to be perfect, when I’m oh so confused of what type of perfect.

I don’t know if they want me to be a cheerleader and prom queen and top of my class like they never could. Or if they want me to be conservative or something.

Probably the latter, but-

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice suddenly snaps me out of my daze. We literally had laid down to sleep and all I could do is pity myself.

I feel a lump in my throat and only now realize how i feel like I’m going to break into sobs.

Matt must’ve heard my uneven, shaky breaths.

Matt was spooning me, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him. He rubs my sides gently, tracing shapes on my skin.

I sigh in response. I feel like I haven’t used my voice in so long. I feel like if I speak now, I’ll break into sobs.

“Baby?” He whispers softly. I feel him pull away slightly until he turns me around to face him.

“Talk to me sweetheart.”

Matt is such a kind soul. I literally didn’t tell my parents we were dating until we were already dating for 7 months, just because I was that scared. I wasn’t allowed to date or do anything intimate. As if it wasn’t normal for a teenager to want to.

“Why do you like me Matt?” I blurt out before I can think.

“First off, I don’t like you, I love you. And second where is this coming from?” He asks sweetly his eyes having a tinge of concern to them. He looks so sweet and caring.

“Why tho?” I inquire. My voice low. I know my eyes are glassy, I’m quite literally holding back tears.

Matt licks his lips and sits up. He turns the bedside table lamp on. The dim yellow light aluminates the room slightly, just enough so that I can see his prominent features even better.

“What do you mean?” He asks again now sitting up fully. He has his legs Chris-cross, looking down at me while I still lay on my side.

I sigh trying to gather my thoughts. I purse my lips lying back on my back. I stare at the ceiling for a moment.

“Why do you love me?” I purse my lips. I blink furiously trying to hold back tears.

The way he looks at me is sweet and caring. I sit up just like him. Both of us now sitting across each other, Chris-cross.

Matt and I have been together for a long while, so he knows me. But I never openly talked about it.

“I love you because you’re kind, and caring. I love you because you could talk for hours about things you are passionate about. I love your voice, I love your face, I love the way you’re so delicate with everything. I love the way you touch me. I love you because even when we were just friends you were so kind to me and everyone around. I love you because you’re you.”

By the end of his rant I was crying. Tears streaming down my face while i try to hold in gut wrenching sobs.

Matt’s eyes soften even further. He shifts again so his back is against the head-bored. He grabs me gently and sets me down on his lap facing him.

I cry. Feeling vulnerable I burry my face in the side of his neck. I try not to sob too loud, but I can’t hold it in. With my sobs my body shakes as I try to breathe through it.

“Shh you’re okay baby.” He comforts, gently rubbing circles into my back.

I let out shaky breaths and sobs as I try to calm down. I feel like I’m overreacting. Sure I feel shitty about myself, but then again I can’t do anything to change who I am, so what’s the point in crying about it.

I don’t know for how long I cry, I just know that after a while I couldn’t anymore. I cried so much I ran out of tears.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asks softly under his breath.

I let out a shaky sigh and shift slightly. I look him in the eyes for a second before letting my head fall forward closing my eyes. I know my eyes are probably red and puffy.

“I just..” I trail off, thinking of a way to describe this to Matt.

“I hate being an immigrant’s daughter..” I say slowly trying to figure out a way to understandably say this without sounding crazy or overly sensitive.

I feel Matt’s hand ghost over my cheek caressing my face gently. He picks up my head slowly so I’m looking at him. My eyes meet his as I try not to cry anymore.

“Talk to me, honey.” He says oh so sweetly.

“I just wish I was American.” I sob. Without even realizing tears were rolling down my face again.

Matt doesn’t say anything waiting for me to continue. He wipes away my tears gently, his eyes full of concern.

“I hate myself and everything I stand for.” I breathe out under my breath as if I’m terrified by that fact. And I am. I hate that I hate myself.

“Baby..” Matt whispers softly. He looks at me like I am everything. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters and me saying that I hate myself tears him apart.

“I don’t have a culture. I mean I do, but I’m a third culture kid, I’m not enough for either culture.” I sob. I can physically feel my bottom lip trembling.

“Baby, I love you for you.” Matt says again softly. He wipes away my tears.

“But I hate myself Matt. I hate the fact that I exist.” I breathe out. I close my eyes tightly, because after all, I could barely see anything through my tears anyway.

Matt, being the empath he is, was on the verge of crying too.

No American ever pronounces my name right, but the actual right way just sounds wrong at this point.

I will never find my name on those keychains. And while today, I don’t care about it, back when I was younger and everyone had those, I just couldn’t find one.

“Don’t say that” Matt breaths out. He was still actively wiping away my tears while trying not to cry himself.

“You don’t get it Matt. I’m the problem.” I breathe out harshly. “I feel like I always act like such a brat about it. But my parents had dreams too.” I breathe out.

I see a tear roll down Matt’s cheek and it feels like a slap across my face. I feel my stomach drop. I hurriedly put my hands on his face wiping away the tear while crying myself. Matt’s hands go to my waist holding me.

“Don’t say that.” He breathes out. “You’re allowed to feel things.”

Another wave of sadness washes over me. But before I can break out into sobs again he pulls me into him.

Matt cradles my head into his chest hugging me tightly. I feel safe in his arms. I know Matt loves me for me, but sometimes it still felt like a cruel joke.

Like when I was asked out in middle school as a joke. But we’ve been dating for almost a year now.

“I love your hair, I love your eyes, I love your face, I love your culture, I love your humor. I love you.” Matt assures me. He rubs my scalp gently as I continues to let out small sobs that shake my body.

“I love everything about you. I love you the way you are, and you know that.” He uses his other hand to rub my back comfortingly.

I continue to cry in his arms listening to the sweet nothings and the praises Matt whispers to me.

It hurts knowing I hurt him. And I really want to believe him, and I do. But I don’t agree.

After a while of crying I calm down again.

This is a topic I’ll never be able to talk about without crying. It’s a deep rooted pain.

Being how I am, I hate it.

After a while we move back to a laying down position. “We’ll talk about this later.” Matt assures firmly yet he was still looking at me kindly.

I simply nod. Matt turns the bedside lamp off. He pulls me closer to him. He cradles my head to his chest and I hug him back. I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s exhausting to hate myself this much. I wish I didn’t. I really do.

Masterlist

A/N: All of us third culture kids have probably at some point have experienced some type of internalized racism. I wrote this in a fit of sadness after realising that my dreams are just dreams. I cried so many times while writing this. I hope you guys liked it 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

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nativefoodstore · 1 year

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Super Delicious Millets in Native Food Store

Millets are a group of small-seeded grasses that are commonly grown in semi-arid regions of Asia and Africa. They are known for their nutritional benefits and have been a staple food in many parts of the world for centuries. Millets are rich in nutrients such as fiber, protein, vitamins, and minerals. They are particularly high in iron, calcium, and magnesium.Millets are gluten-free, making them a great option for people with celiac disease or gluten intolerance. Millets are rich in antioxidants and have been shown to help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease. #food #foodporn #foodie #foodstagram #foodphotography #foodblogger #foodlover #foodgasm #foodpics #foodies #foodpic #foods #foodblog #foodlovers #foodgram #foodiesofinstagram #foodstyling #foodart #foodlove #foodiegram #foodphoto #fooddiary #millet #millets #healthyfood #healthyeating #instantfood

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earthry · 1 year

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Sugar Papas ( Sugar Daddy Headcanons)

I’m stressed about financial things right now so let’s discuss Sugar Daddy Papas. This is very self indulgent.

tw: sfw mostly, a little bit suggestive, mentions of surgery, fluff

Primo

You make him feel young again and he loves indulging you in the things you enjoy. If you’re going to school or you have a passion project he’s more than happy to fund them. Loves to take you with him to vineyards and fancy high society events. Will bring you to tour world famous botanic gardens and spoil you the entire trip.

Probably goes to expensive luxury country clubs and brings you along— there’s a massage and spa service and you always get a nice day of relaxation. You relax in the hot tub together and sometimes things get a little frisky because he just can’t resist that little pleased look on your face when you’re enjoying the heated water and a cold fancy drink that’s sitting on the edge, there’s music playing and not too loud— it’s a good life. You’re pleased and fuck if that’s not the hottest thing to Primo.

Secondo

Loves dressing you in expensive dresses and/or suits and showing you off on his arm. If you like feminine clothing he’ll take you to very fancy boutiques and wait while you try on dresses and the like. You always get 100% of the store’s attention and service because they know that Secondo will spend so much money if you like a particularly outfit. If you prefer masculine clothing, he takes you to expensive tailors and personally finds the best and most suitable fits for you. He’ll suggest several designs, but if there’s something you really have your heart set on he has no problem whipping out his credit card for you.

After retirement he enjoys traveling around Europe and will bring you with him. You always fly first class and his favorite game is ‘how far can we go before the flight attendant gets suspicious’. You have to learn to be quiet very quickly because Secondo has some very talented fingers that wander a lot. What you don’t know is that he’s already paid the crew off to not bother the two of you.

Loves to watch beautiful sunrises and sunsets with you so he always finds accommodations with the best views. He buys the finest wine and loves having you try his favorites or ones that are native to the region or area you are visiting. Loves to hear your opinion of everything— the wine, the food, the countryside. Could listen to you talk for hours.

Terzo

This man buys the most expensive lingerie for you and has you ‘model’ it for him. Takes you to red carpet events and operas, treating you to fancy five-star restaurants with rich food and good wine. He may have a playboy reputation and you had fully expected for this arrangement to only last a few months, but the two of you are celebrating your third year anniversary soon. He’s planning to fly the two of you out to some exotic vacation spot for a full week of absolute bliss.

Every fancy hotel you visit he insists ‘breaking’ the bed in and after his appetite is sated, he will call room service and let you order whatever you want. Buys you expensive body lotions and oils and massages you, hands running up and down your body as he whispers worship and praises.

If you have a favorite tattoo artist you want a tattoo from, he'll do his best to get you a booking and fly you out. He'll sit there and hold your hand and help you take care of it after. And of course, he'll pay for the whole thing.

Copia

You go with him on tour and the ghouls consider themselves lucky to have you because Copia will book the best hotels for you because you deserve nothing less. You enjoy lazy evenings in between concerts nestled in his lap with your back against his chest as a movie plays on the big screen in your hotel room and Copia slowly hand feeds you fruit or cheese, stealing a kiss after each bite.

He loves to have his hands on you, loves the feeling and reminder that you are his. The expensive clothing you wear, the necklace and watch and shoes, those are all claims to him. Little touches against your shoulder, hand around your waist, lips brushing against your temple, you’re intoxicating to him.

Supportive about plastic or transition surgeries, he’ll pay for it all and it will be at the best places with the best care. He’ll pay for any treatments you want, will help administrator them if needed. He will give you so many affirmations for your body whether it be physical or gender-based, he’s more than happy to please. He just wants you to feel comfortable in your own body. Buys you the most expensive products for care.

Sets up an Etsy account for you and links his card to it— doesn’t care what you buy as long as it makes you happy. Almost cries when you buy a little keychain of him and tell him that way he can always be with you-- he immediately insists on finding someone who does custom art and keychains to get one of you too.

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materlux · 2 months

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The Priestess and The Swordsman - Chapter 1: A Xianzhou stowaway.

Eden: A planet mostly avoided by travellers, due to their obsession with their aeon and their tendency for human sacrifices. The planet is lush and the soil is fertile, they produce more food than they could ever eat, and it’s all thanks to their ‘benevolent’ god, Yaoshi, the Abundance.

The Garden of Auri: The garden was once well kept and beloved by the nearby residence, then like a sudden switch, the residence abandoned the garden. It has been left to its own devices since then, to this day no one knows what happened.

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

CW: Angst, break down, hurt/comfort, mentions of: Blood, death, Jing Yuan. 3.8k words

The Xianzhou Luofu, one of six Xianzhou Alliance ships owned by the Hexafleet, traverses the endless universe in search of Denizens of the Abundance. Dedicated to The Hunt, Lan, and shares THEIR hunt for the Abundance, Yaoshi.

The Luofu is led by the Six Charioteers of which only three members are known; Yukong, the Helm Master of the Sky-Faring commission, Fu Xuan, Master Diviner of the Divination commission, and Jing Yuan, General of the Cloud Knights.

Of these three people you don’t know who you’d rather have met first, or at all if you could choose. You’d been hiding out on the Luofu for less than a few days, but people had already taken notice of your strange behaviour, and so for the last couple days you felt like you were being watched. And you were, by the cloud knights, see some store owners must have thought your strange behaviour was a sign, a sign of theft or plans of theft.

Being watched by the cloud knights only made your behaviour worsen, how were you supposed to know that they thought you were just a kid up to trouble, and not that they had figured out that you were from Eden.

You’d been hiding out in an uninhabited house in the back of some garden that most people avoid, the garden in question you’d later learn was called Garden of Auri. It’s not necessarily overgrown, but some bushes could use a trim and some flowers were growing out of their beds. You didn’t mind, if anything the extra plants made for good cover, you felt safer among them, they also offer good test subjects.

Plants no longer grow inexplicably around you, flowers don’t bloom in places or at times in which they’d surely die, you were free. And yet this didn’t feel like the freedom Kaira and Lethe had shown you, or the freedom you had dreamed of and read about.

The mark on your arm, the one that was burned into your bones, has spread further. Long black tendrils like water running along your skin, reach from the palm of your hand, down the back of your forearm and onto the front. It doesn’t burn anymore, but your arm is getting weaker and sore, you still cover it the best you can.

The Alchemy commissions healers offer little help, in their defence it’s not easy helping a patient, who won’t tell or show you the problem. The best they could offer was a recommendation, a specific kind of herbal tea sold in Aurum Alley that is supposed to soothe soreness and help with sleep.

Aurum Alley, the street most tourists are drawn to, with its friendly atmosphere and many options in delicacies native to the Luofu. It’s here you buy most of your supplies, given its more laid back nature and the openness of the area, and of course the lack of on guard cloud knights.

By now you know these streets like the back of your hand, you use the small streets and back roads to stay out of sight. You buy your recommended tea from Du’s Teahouse, Boss Du has by now given up on convincing you to buy some of his other ‘teas’. Maybe your mistake is that you got too comfortable in these streets, that you don’t notice the people following you.

Running through the near empty alleys was not your plan, you had hoped to lie low for at least a couple more days, maybe even a few weeks more, before you became part of the normal society. You aren’t out of shape per se, but you’re very thankful for your knowledge of these streets and your agility.

The cloud knight following you doesn’t have trouble keeping up speed wise, but you keep turning down a new street that at this point they don’t know where in Aurum Alley they are. In the end you lose them in the winding near identical streets, and you make your escape out of Aurum Alley.

On your way to the garden you nearly collapse, it’s odd that’s never happened before. You sit on the ground against a wall in the shade, this road isn’t frequented so there aren’t many people around, you’re on your own.

Your breathing becomes laboured and shallow, your vision is blurring at the edges, and it’s suddenly far too hot despite the usual weather of the Luofu being a comfortable temperature. You close your eyes, but this only makes everything spin slowly, it makes your stomach churn. You hunch over your legs and hold them close as you breathe in deep.

The world around you gets tuned out, you don’t notice the sound of boots and clinking metal, it stopping abruptly then coming closer. You only notice this person when a warm hand is gently placed on your upper back. Your breathing stutters for a moment, you lift your head to look at the person, you squint but can’t make out any distinct features with your blurry vision.

It takes you a second to tune the world back in, so you can hear what they’re saying. “What?” You ask in a quiet voice, so quiet the word is nearly lost in the wind, but they hear you.

They adjust and repeat themself, “are you okay?” They ask, their voice like honey in your ears, it takes a moment before the words and their meaning register.

“Mhm,” you hum and nod once, the action makes your head throb with a dull pain. You breathe deep and carefully, your knees slide away from your body to make the action easier.

“Are you sure?” They ask, there’s concern in their voice, it makes you uneasy. “You’re shaking,” they add.

“I’m sure,” you breathe, but you are shaking, you notice, and you cradle your arm to yourself like it hurts. It does hurt, the feeling hits you like a ton of bricks, the pain spreads from your hand to your shoulder. The burning feeling is back in your bones, it almost makes it numb. You fight back tears, you don’t want to cry in front of this stranger, you can’t trust them yet, you can’t show them weakness that they can use against you.

The hand on your back moves soothingly along your shoulders, you try to focus on it. “Breathe,” they instruct you, their voice is soft. “Let me help you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You try to shake your head, but it hurts too much.

“It’s not fine, you need help.” Their right, you know their right, but you can’t trust them. “C’mon, let’s get you somewhere safer, somewhere you can get help,” they say, but you make no attempt to move. They stay by your side, waiting for something, for you to give in to their offer of help and you do.

“Fine,” you mutter, closing your eyes again to ignore the world spinning faster. They watch you for a while longer before they mutter a quiet apology, it barely registers in your mind before you’re pulled into warm arms. You don’t get to protest as they stand up with ease, and turn to make their way down the road.

Your mind becomes more muddled and you start dozing off, they speak a few more words, most don’t register in your swimming head. You think they introduced themself, something with a title.

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You wake up 3 hours later, in a clean bed, in a sterile room. This must be the Alchemy Commissions infirmary, despite having been here at least twice, you have never seen the inside of the building outside of the consultation rooms.

A woman, foxian, with dark hair and eyes checks on you when you wake. She sets a glass of water down on the small table beside your bed, and offers to fetch you some food, you’re about to decline when there’s a knock on the door.

The woman opens the door, a child walks in followed by an imposing man, he looks down at the child with an apologetic expression as she scolds him. The foxian woman leaves the room, the two new people continue their conversation, like you aren’t even there.

You reach out for the glass, your hand shakes weakly and you feel heavy. You can barely hold onto the glass, the shake in your hand gets worse with the weight. You end up attempting to place the glass back on the table, it almost doesn’t go wrong, almost. Your shaking ends up knocking the glass over, water spills over the table onto the floor, at least the glass didn’t break.

The room is quiet, you note, you look up and the two new people are looking at you. They both look sympathetic, you hate that look it reminds you of the priest, but there’s something more in the man’s eyes. It’s like he knows something about you, it makes you want to shrink in on yourself, and you do a little, sitting against the pillow behind you with your head hung.

The child sighs and walks over, she grabs the empty glass off the table, then excuses herself and leaves the room, presumably to get more water. The man observes you from afar, before moving closer. He stands at the foot of the bed with crossed arms, you study his attire but avoid his face.

“Priestess,” his voice is stern, but you recognize a softness in it, he’s the stranger. With one simple word you are reduced to a meek pile of anxiety, he knows, you repeat those two words to yourself over and over again. Someone from the Xianzhou Alliance, someone dedicated to The Hunt’s mission to kill the Abundance, someone knows who you are, where you’re from, what you did.

“Priestess,” he repeats, you shake your head, tears line your eyes. You shouldn’t have stayed on the Luofu for this long, you only wanted to lose the people hunting you before you moved on. “Priestess?” He sounds closer now, a warm hand grasps your shoulder, it makes you flinch.

“Sorry.” The word comes out in a muddled mix of coherent speech and a sob, tears stream down your face in warm lines.

“Hey, look at me.” His voice has softened and lost its stern edge, he hovers by your side. You shake your head and lean away.

The child comes back with the refilled glass of water, she places it on the small table and takes in the scene before her. Your distressed disposition meets her analysing gaze first, then the man by your side whose hand now hovers over your shoulder.

“General,” she starts in a stern tone. “I told you not to stress out my patient.” She puts her hands on her hips, like a mother scolding her son. The General looks guilty, “Lady Bailu,” he tries. She points to somewhere further in the room, and like a kicked puppy the General of the Luofu steps away from your side.

“Breathe child,” Lady Bailu tells you, she walks around the room and comes back with some tissue papers to dry your eyes. “Here, drink.” She pushes the glass closer to your bedside, you heed her command and pick the glass up gently, you have to focus hard not to spill it again.

Lady Bailu turns away from you and sends the General a glare, she ushers him to a corner of the room, the two engage in a discussion of sorts, Lady Bailu scolds him and he lets her.

You hold the glass in both hands, sipping at the cold water carefully. You sniffle and regain control of your breathing, the glass is cold in your hands and it grounds you. The room is quiet, save for the muttered discussion in the corner, they must be discussing what to do with you.

You feel heavy and weak, you were never this meek when you were a child, but you also weren’t a wanted criminal on a ship full of people dedicated to hunting your aeon. You suppose anyone would become meek in such a situation.

“Child?” Lady Bailu catches your attention, there’s something comical in this woman who looks younger than you calling you child, but based on the horns and tail she must be vidyadhara. You look at her, she stands by your side, the General keeps his distance.

“The General wants to talk to you,” Lady Bailu tells you in an even tone. “Do you want to talk to him? You don’t have to, not now.” She looks deep into your eyes, you mull over your options, is it really okay if you deny the General? You know you’ll have to talk to him eventually, now that you have been found out, it will be near impossible to get off the Luofu.

You decide to rip the bandaid off and get it over with, the General has to be a reasonable man, maybe if you explain everything to him, he will offer you some leniency. “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you tell Lady Bailu, she nods and shoots the General one last warning glare before leaving the room.

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The chair is settled on the floor with a dull thud, the General takes his seat by your side, you don’t look at him. The room is quiet, the air is dense and you shift in your seat.

“Tell me,” he starts, “are you from Eden?” It’s a stupid question, he already knows the answer, he knows who you are, it’s meant as an ice-breaker.

“Yes.” You don’t offer much in your reply, it’s soft, barely piercing the air.

“Eden is a planet favoured by the Abundance, right?” The planet is untraversed, but not unknown. “It is.” You still won’t look at him.

“You are part of the cult of the Abundance-”, “were,” you correct without thinking, it dawns on you that you just cut off the General of the Luofu. You shrink a little. “You were part of the cult of the Abundance?” He wonders out loud. “Yes, I left.” You didn’t really leave, more so fled the place after your crime.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know if you can tell him the truth about the cult. Not because he can’t know, but you don’t know if you can retell it, to relive it. Repressed memories float around the forefront of your mind, the blade you should have discarded long ago, the blood, the feeling, the pain, the scar aches.

“Why’d you leave?” He tries again, this time softer. He must sense your nerves, your tense shoulders and uneven breathing. “You don’t know?” You ask instead of answering.

“I believe I do, but I want to be certain.” He keeps an even tone, he wants to hear it from you, you know, but you can’t say it. “What do you believe?”

“You’re wanted by the High Council of Eden for the massacre of the cult of the Abundance, including a priest held in high regard.” That’s the story the Council is going with, it’s not wrong factually, but it lacks your motive. “That’s true.” You feel small next to him.

“Why did you do it?” He asks, how could you ever articulate what you saw that day, what words could ever do it justice. You can’t find any, but it seems your silence speaks more than you intended.

“They did something to you, didn’t they?” He asks tentatively, you just nod along, words elude you at this point.

“Did they hurt you?” His tone grows darker, but somehow you get the feeling it’s not because of you. You nod again, and the General takes a deep breath, he thinks over the information and which questions work best. He doesn’t want to stress you out again, but he has questions that need to be answered.

“Is that why you did it?” The it stays unspoken, but you know what he means. Was it revenge? Yes, was it revenge for what they did against you? “No.” Your short answer hangs in the air, the General’s brow furrows.

“Then why?” He asks, you think it over, how can you tell him everything in the simplest way. It has to be simple, because if you make it complicated you might not finish. “For them,” you answer, your voice rises slightly, like you're not just telling him but yourself as well.

“The two underage victims?” ‘Victims’, the word leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, if it wasn’t for you they wouldn’t be victims, if you could’ve just accepted your fate they’d still be alive. “It’s my fault.” It’s your fault, you used them for your own desire to be free. It’s your fault, they stayed longer than they should, you walked out too far. It’s your fault.

“But you didn’t kill them,” he states it like it matters, like that fact alone means you weren’t a part of the problem. “They were there because of me.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault,” he reasons. “But.” You want to argue, tears spring to your eyes, you can’t argue with him.

“It’s not your fault,” he reassures. “They chose to be there, they chose to be with you.” His hand hovers over your own, warmth radiates from his palm. “But.” The word comes out choked as tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“It’s not your fault.” He holds your hand gently, the warmth and rough texture grounds you to the present. “You didn’t know what would happen, neither did they.” Your breathing stutters, the blanket in your lap soaks up your tears.

“It’s not your fault.” You can’t hold it in anymore, you didn’t intend to break down in front of the Luofu General, but sobs wrack your body. You cry freely, he holds your hand the whole time, his thumb begins to gently stroke over the unmarred skin on the back of your hand.

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After you’ve calmed down the General leaves your side and Lady Bailu comes back, she offers a soft pat on your hand. You feel icky, but a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Lady Bailu stands at your bedside opposite of where the General sat, she holds out her hand. “Let me see your arm,” she instructs, you hesitate, but let her inspect the black tendrils. They’ve grown in quantity since you last looked at them, their beginning to resemble a broken spider web.

She hums to herself, deep in thought. “Does it hurt?” She asks, you shake your head no. “Do you know how you got it?” She asks, you think back to the statue. “Yes, the statue in the church was crying. Drops of water from it landed in my palm, it burned.” She nods along as you explain, studying the marks more closely.

“A crying statue,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Did the statue represent a specific god?” She looks around the room, she spots whatever she is looking for on a nearby cabinet. “Yaoshi.” Lady Bailu returns with a wet cloth, she gently dabs it on the markings, you sigh in contentment, you hadn’t realised the marks were so warm. “The Abundance.” She nods to herself.

“Is it possible that the Abundance has cursed you through the statue’s tears?” It’s the best theory, it explains the odd marks and the strange reason for their occurrence. “Yeah, Yaoshi would do that as punishment for what I did.” It makes sense, you disrespect THEIR church during a ceremony, that would anger any god and cause retaliation.

“Then I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do then,” she says, she seems genuinely sorry. “That’s okay,” you assure her, she offers you a smile.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You think the question over, the incident that led to you being in the infirmary is the first of its kind. “Do you have anything for pain or soreness?” You ask instead, it was just a fluke you assure yourself, it won’t happen again. “Pain and soreness, yes I think I have something for that,” Lady Bailu says before she leaves the room.

Lady Bailu comes back with a small container, she opens it to show you the salve inside, she smears it over your arm and makes sure to cover the marks. She then finds some gauze and wraps it around your arm, she gives you the salve and a few rolls of gauze, along with instructions.

Leaving the infirmary you make your way through the Alchemy Commission’s streets, once you make it back to the road where you collapsed, you’re met with a familiar face. The General smiles at you, he seems much more relaxed now.

He walks along with you in silence for a while, he notes the small container and gauze in your hands. “Did you figure out what the marks are?” He’s making small talk, you look down at your bandaged arm and think back to Lady Bailu’s theory.

“The theory is that Yaoshi cursed me for my crime.” He nods along.

“I would advise that you don’t say THEIR name out loud,” he warns, you hadn’t realised you were doing that, it was like second nature for you to call them by name. But it makes sense that it would be taboo to do so on a Xianzhou Alliance vessel, you’ll have to keep that in mind for later travels.

By the stairs to the garden you turn and begin your ascension, the General looks on in confusion. “Priestess?” He calls after you, the title makes you freeze. “Please don’t call me that,” you ask, looking back at him.

“Then what should I call you?” It’s then that you realise that you never introduced yourself, you laugh to yourself and offer him your name. “Was there something you needed?” You ask him afterwards.

“Why are you going to the Garden of Auri?” He looks at you, seeming perplexed, you’d think the General of the Luofu would know every part of the ship, you muse to yourself. “I live there.”

He observes you for a moment, like he’s thinking what you said over. “General?” You ask with a raised brow. “Please, just call me Jing Yuan,” he replies, he shakes away his thoughts and bids you farewell, you watch him leave before continuing up the stairs.

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#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr jing yuan #hsr x gender neutral reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #Jing Yuan #hsr bailu #honkai star rail bailu #Bailu #found family

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mostly-mundane-atla · 7 months

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Hi! Your blog is awesome. I don't know if I'm allowed to ask non-atla questions, so I hope this is okay. I'm working on a non-avatar ttrpg campaign that takes place both in a (fictional/fantasy) northern tundra region AND during a magical endless winter. The people in it aren't based on any specific culture but, given that they're successfully living in similar environments & have for countless generations, I want to draw as much inspiration & knowledge from real-life circumpolar cultures & native science as much as possible. Do you have any advice or even just fun, underappreciated ideas for winter tundra survival, things someone who grew up in a desert like me wouldn't think of on my own? If you need/want more direction: I'm particularly looking for clothing, shelters, resource gathering-practices for non-food (esp what kinds of resources would be valuable), as well as like, any fun details that evolve naturally in a culture that formed in the tundra that you'd want to see represented. I hope that makes sense ^^; Thanks so much if you decide to answer, have a good day either way <3

[I am SOOO sorry this took so long! Tumblr kept not saving my progress when i tapped "save draft" so i had to rewrite a few of these passages a few different times]

Don't worry about asking, friend, i get cultural questions all the time and i'm happy to share.

Note: my knowledge is almost entirely based on coastal tundra peoples with access to marine mammals. That's not to say it's impossible for people to live farther inland, just that it's not my area of expertise.

Clothing

Just about everything you wear is going to come off of a dead animal. This doesn't necessarily need to be the case if your fictional culture has a means of raising hardy livestock for fiber and a history of woven textiles, but even then skin clothes are warm and generally quite hard-wearing and are a good fit for living in these circumstances.

This amount of fur means lice are a perpetual problem. If you want to make that an immersive part of the game, you can work in a mechanic for checking scalps and clothing and bedding for lice.

Bird skins can also be used for clothing and waterfowl specifically has the benefit of water resistance. Fish skin can also be used for similar properties. Animal intestines can be made into a waterproof material if sewn with sinew and soaked before finishing.

On that note i'd recommend making a list of available animals and what qualities and textures their skins and furs have. Even if you don't intend on being incredibly descriptive with clothing, it's something better to have and not need than need and not have. And if you do anything else creative in a similar setting you have your nifty little source to consult.

When it comes to the actual construction of the clothes, you want a loose fit. Trapped air ia a great insulator and you want clothes to be easy to move in. Another benefit for loose-fitting upper body garments in cold weather is you can pull your arms in and keep them by your much warmer core. Not only will this option keep you comfortable, it can also prevent muscle injury or getting frostbite

Mittens can be worn on a string yoke. This doesn't have to be exclusive to children either. Wind can pick up out of nowhere and lost mittens means fingers exposed to arctic cold which can mean gangreen and amputations down the line.

Swimming or running to deliver a message may involve stripping nude, even in cold. Clothes soaked in water or sweat are deadly in the cold.

Clothes may be stored in bags outside when not in use. The low temperatures can kill bugs and bacteria. On a similar note, boots and coats are best to be hung to dry as soon as one is indoors for the day. This may mean it's normal for people to be topless indoors.

Boots should never have holes or tears. Frostbite and resulting gangreen is already bad enough but you especially do not want it on your feet

Shelter

You're going to want dwellings to have as few rooms and windows as possible and small doors. The fewer walls you have, the easier it is for heat to circulate throughout the whole dwelling. You'll probably want one room separating the door and where you sleep. Remember: trapped air is a great insulator.

The culture I've reconnected with is semi-nomadic so the permanent houses are not always occupied and a village can seem abandoned when it's just on its "off season". You can take that or leave it depending on what you're going for.

Even if the dwelling is not a tent, you're probably still going to have poles serving as a supporting frame.

Sod houses are common due to the availability of sod (the grass and the dirt its roots are tangled in). Tents made of warm, waterproof skins (like walrus skin) are also an option.

An easy way to insulate such a dwelling is to build a wall of packed snow around and fill the gaps with loose, airy snow. This traps air the same way down feathers do.

Non-Food Resource Gathering

While I imagine you meant obtaining resources outside of hunting, in a tundra or tundra-like setting, a lot of your resources are going to come from dead animals. Your garments and shelters and bedding are likely to be made of animal skins, with hollow and/or fluffy fur for warmth, or smoked intestine or fish skin, sewn with tiny stitches and soaked to keep everything flush, for waterproof boots and overlayers. Antlers and tusks are good carving materials for things like spoons and closures and slabs for armor and handles and also talismans and smoking pipes and beads and art. Baleen is good for art too, as well as boot soles and smaller sleds and beautiful baskets. Sinew and rawhide are good for thread, ties, and rope. Bones have a near infinite amount of uses from tiny wing bones to make sewing needles to huge whale bones used to build houses.

For the purposes of working this into a roleplaying game, i'd second the recommendation of keeping a list of animals in your universe and their properties, as well as the things that can be gathered from or made of them. A sort of crafting recipe guide would allow all kinds of quests and sidequests.

There are, of course, non-animal resources to gather for non-eating purposes. Soapstone is the traditional material for oil lamps. Grasses can be woven into baskets for any number of purposes, including supports to give the uppers of one's boots more structure. Wood, in the form of slices of tree trunks, can be hollowed out into bowls and small tubs and buckets or, as logs or slats, can make up flooring. Sturdy branches can be used for frames in houses, boats, and drums, and tree resin makes both good glue and antibiotic salve for closed wounds. Sod, also called turf, makes a good building material and moss is exellent insulation in boots. You can make a list of these too, if it helps.

If your fictional culture has a strong tradition of metallurgy, then they'd also mine for metal that can be used for knives. If not, slate is another option that requires significantly less fire. You could even have both and make the metal a status symbol.

Fun Details to Represent

There are so many lovely little things that show up in arctic cultures

First, a gift economy. Where a cash economy relies on a fairly individualistic culture where you work for someone else to earn capital and exchange that capital for goods and services, a more collectivist and interdependent culture natural to the harsh conditions of the tundra tends to result in a gift economy. The currency in a gift economy, to perhaps oversimplify, is favors. Someone does you a good turn, you remember that, and when you're in a position to help, you return the favor. Usually this means basic material things like hospitality and food, but the "gifts" exchanged can also be luck! King Islander boys would often wish hunters setting out at dawn good luck, with a slab of driftwood as a token of that luck, and if the hunters were successful, they'd give the boys who wished them luck a share of their catch. I believe it was Frank Ellana who remenised that this was what the world was like before money.

Another thing that would be nice to include is parenting practices considered fairly gentle to a Euro-American perspective. Physical punishments are traditionally treated as abuse and scolding a child is not only seen as wrong but something an adult ought to be ashamed of. Discipline is instead a series of moral lessons, teaching children why what they did was wrong and using stories as examples of the consequences. Given the amount of stories about the dangers of abusing a spouse or child, i'd say a lot of these lessons were proactive and preventative. Knowing someone will be hurt by it is considered enough of a deterrence to stop bad behaviors. Traditional potty training, for example, is also gentler in comparison; starting at a younger age (about six months) with more emphasis on praise and encouragment than routine. The goal here is to teach the baby to signal when they need to go so they can be taken out of mama's atigi and relieve themself in a hygenic manner instead of holding it until they get permission. Even our take on kissing is based on inhaling instead of pecking with the lips. This kind of gentleness is usually overlooked to instead focus on the badass hunter image or overall "cuteness" so it would be nice for it to be referenced.

Oral histories would be pretty neat too. I think the idea of learning to be a historian of oral histories is an interesting one and i think it has a lot of potential plot hooks for an rpg.

That's all i have for now. Sorry for the delayed response time. Happy gaming, and i'm always up for further discussion if you would like ^-^

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poppurini · 1 year

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FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES ：with lilia ヾ( ˃o˂ )◞

note. doing all five for this man bc i’m greedy

wc. 1566﹐gn!reader mostly but fem!reader in one small part of a section ig? in giving gifts!

giving gifts — for some people, receiving / giving a heartfelt gift is what makes them feel most loved.

this one’s a given! he loves travelling, so he’ll definitely bring you lots and lots of souvenirs. i feel like lilia’s definitely the kind to give you rings / bracelets / necklaces stored with the sand from the beach you two went to or something similar teehee. the kind to randomly gift you something even when there’s no special occasion. “this reminds me of you” kind of bf <3 definitely remembers the things you like / your preferences to make you even happier!

i also think lilia would gift you handmade crafts! the moment he finds out there are such creative ways to express one’s love to another? oh boy, he’s purchasing all the colour papers, glue sticks, popsicle sticks, whatever! yknow those diy cube thingies that could be opened and pictures are stuck to each and every side? yeah those. he’ll definitely make it colourful and sparkly! maybe even a little messy / some errors here and there but it’s just so lilia to do that, one look at it and people can guess who it’s from. it’s definitely much more endearing than picture-perfect ones.

flowers flowers flowers! he never forgets them. you might even need to remind him that you’ve ran out of vases! i’ve said this so many times in my lilia posts but i will die on this hill he gives you flowers native to briar valley, his homeland. not to mention the scented letters written in perfect cursive? the poems? just him spilling out all his love for you on ink? search for the meaning of those flowers and you’ll run into his arms crying and peppering his face with kisses, swear.

also loves matching with you! matching keychains, bracelets, necklaces, anklets, phone cases, rings (wink), pretty much everything. will buy “she’s my queen” “he’s my king” neon coloured couple t-shirts, ironically or not it’s up to your sanity. he’ll also give you rocks he finds cool looking he’s so stupid (i want to exchange vows with him)

acts of service — for these people, actions speak louder than words. these are nice things you do for your partner that make them feel loved and appreciated.

he likes doing things for you. trouble with homework? let him help! going somewhere? let him fly you! oh, your laundry’s piling up…let him play his favourite horror movie on the tv first! wanna take a drink but too lazy to get up from the bed? fine, fine, but you gotta give him a kiss as a reward later, kay? even though he could just use magic to float it towards you, he just wants an excuse to steal kisses.

definitely offers to cook but who would want that. so he’ll try his best to assist you in the kitchen upon your orders! no five tablespoons of salt or frog slime in the soup? tsk. he does dishes most of the time since he’s not allowed to cook in your kitchen anymore :(

this sounds so unserious but it gets me on my knees. he orders food / inquires concerns—“they asked for no pickles” that kind—for you if you’re too scared or shy to do it. no i will not elaborate further. also very casually swipes a few tissues, grabs your jaw gently and wipes the crumbs at the corner of your mouth while continue to hum to your words. if you complain about how you were planning on doing it yourself later he just chuckles and gives your cheek a teasing pat. oh, just let him take care of you, would you? he doesn’t mind, you just keep taking about your day and tell him about the kitten you saw. taking care of others is one of his best feats!

quality time — this is all about giving the other person your undivided attention. they feel loved if you are present and focused on them when you are together.

he will always, and i mean always, make time for you. he’s already old and gets a wild card to do whatever he wants in his life so ofc he’d want to spend it all on you! especially if he had no choice but to put you second hundreds of years ago back when he had royal duties (if you guys are already together then) he’ll definitely make it up to you now.

i feel like lilia is HEAVY on quality time due to his race as a fae and former general status, he knows far too well how fleeting time can be and how much you could lose from it, so he really appreciates time with you no matter how it’s spent. even lazing on the couch and having simple cuddles would be enough to make his old heart melt! him lying stomach down in between your legs and resting his cheek on your stomach; just wrapping his arms around your figure and snuggling in, he’ll groan like he’s getting a professional full body massage when you play with his hair / massage his scalp.

but of course he still wishes to travel around the globe with you, his darling love. just think of the amount of things you two are going to experience! witnessing new cultures and sights, the inevitable small arguments during vacations, sliding the curtains open fully at the break of dawn to let the sun shine on your sleepy figure and hearing your groggy groans, catching the pillow you throw at him, they’ve got lilia’s heart thumping loudly in its cage.

psst, as a bonus, tell him you want attention while he’s gaming and he’ll immediately log out for you <3 eh, he can tackle this raid later. sorry user gloomurai!

words of affirmation — this language uses words to affirm other people. it’s about expressing affection through spoken words, praise, or appreciation.

SCREAMS TILL MY VOCAL CHORDS BREAK he has no qualms repeating his affection and admiration for you, especially if you’re someone who constantly craves it; he’ll gladly remind you every minute of the day. lilia would cradle you in his arms, humming a calm tune while caressing your skin and pressing chaste kisses to your forehead / hair every now and then.

pats your head reassuringly and lets you bury yourself into his shoulder / chest if you’re feeling particularly clingy that day; telling you how pretty you are, how cute you are, how your silly little jokes and laughs got him feeling like a schoolboy in love—“you know, like those, what do you call it? shoujo mangas?”—and how you got this legendary former war general completely wrapped around your finger.

i think there’s something so beautiful about one accepting your flaws and aiding you to solve the problem if it’s possible instead of just brushing you off by singing false praises…and that’s what my interpretation of lilia is. what’s that? you feel bad for being a “burden” and not good enough for him? nonsense. he loves you with his entire heart and soul, that also includes loving your flaws and helping you through it.

now, that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re a burden or unworthy of him, but he’ll find the root of the problem together with you to know why you feel this way so he could truly help you through it and make you feel better about yourself, it’s what you deserve. it really aches the man’s heart to hear you speak of yourself so negatively when all he thinks of you is everything good and butterflies in his stomach.

physical touch — to this person, nothing speaks more deeply than appropriate physical touch. they feel love through physical affection.

lilia loves having an arm around your waist, caressing it gently with his thumb while he nods and listens attentively to you talk about your day. he’ll gently brush a stray strand of hair out of the way or tuck it behind your ear to get a better view of your— what, you look better with your hair framing your face? wrong! you look good whenever and right now he wants to admire your pretty face with no obstacles in the way.

his hand, although small, is firm and heavy against yours. absolutely loves intertwining your fingers together and rubbing his thumb on your skin, he’ll kiss the inside of your wrist while looking into your eyes with a warm gaze, always the romantic.

one of the things that makes him absolutely go weak is you sitting on his lap!! probably likes you straddling him most because he gets to be closest with you that way. it isn’t even about being sensual he just adores holding your body close against his, melting into each other’s warm and secure embrace with no care in the world.

when you’re in this position, you’ll find him speaking in a softer tone, perhaps even a little deeper than his usual voice (see: general lilia times). maybe he’s doing it on purpose because he knows it flusters you or maybe he just feels safe and allows himself to be vulnerable around you. he’ll do reassuring caresses on your thighs, waist, or both; drawing random patterns and sometimes even telling you to guess them with a small chuckle.

he’s always holding you with such tender love and care it undoubtedly makes you melt each and every time, and he’s not even trying. his hold just harbours such genuine love and affection for you, it’s another way of exposing his feelings bare to you if he wasn’t speaking up about it already. he’d love to touch you at all times if possible, it’s a solid reminder that you’re still here, with him.

he cups your cheek benevolently with one hand, caressing the heated skin and giving chaste kisses to those lips he’s addicted to, murmuring promises and affection that holds true while the other hand wraps reassuringly, tightly, perhaps even desperately around your waist, he’s not going anywhere and neither are you.

written and posted by millie. copying, reposting, rewriting, or uploading on other platforms are strictly prohibited.

#lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #gender neutral reader #the 4am effects #lili :( i love lili

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