#it certainly is a good portion of beef

[quibbs]

open world games make me so unwell. they make me feel like such an ape. i simply won't not collect everything that you put in front of me to collect. i simply have to pick up all your little herbs and stones. it takes hours. i hate it. it makes a mockery of my free will 

[carmenized-onions]

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

Next Part

[garagepaperback]

push & pull

2.

On a miserably early morning in May, after a home-bound reunion on one of June’s debutant days, in hours so sideways they didn’t seem to include an anchor point in time’s forward march at all - they pulled each other often in the bathroom. A single stall in a space cramped even before it was occupied by their shoulders, the pushing and stuttered hips and hands - shoving, taking, having.

The bent toes of Draco’s loafers squeaked on the miserable tile. A color close to toothpaste, as bland in memory as it was when Harry stared down at it and Draco relaxed his throat and barely made any noise at all, kneeling between Harry’s legs and taking in the entire length of him. Focused, eyes fluttering closed, breathing steadily through his nose. Harry tried to do the same but the wet choking, knotted noises echoed in the too-tight space, in his too-tight skull. He blinked away tears and thought it wouldn't happen again, or that he was dangerously likely to jerk awake suddenly, opening his eyes to an awful crick in his neck, the blurry dream of whatever this was already slipping back into some damp recess of his mind.

It did happen again and Draco remained stern about the talking. He didn't get any nicer.

Worse, it worked. The less Draco paid him any real attention, the more Harry's insides went simmering and worryingly pliable, the more he had to dole out careful allotments of air into his lungs whenever the stupid Port assignment arrived on his desk. 

They didn’t even see each other every time, there wasn’t a plan. And when it did happen, when Draco was there, crooked eyebrow in the nulled waiting room, he ran a smoothing palm down his front and wiped the whole fifteen minutes off his chest after, exiting the stall like he’d only just been in there to check for a stain on his lapel. Like he’d been entirely alone, like there was no Harry at all.

It worked so well Harry began to worry he was forgetting what counted for normalcy. During a date with a nice bloke named Josiah, or some other name that seemed like it was made to be said while handing over a steaming mug of tea in drowsy morning light (not like Malfoy, a sound that was born with bite marks, or Draco, the vowels of which sank down the throat smug and languid and silky) Harry found himself half-hard in the bathroom because they had the same hand dryer. He thought wildly about asking if - but no. It would have been crude and insane to say it, over a sensible portion of wine and a beef ribeye he couldn’t have given less of a shit about. And more so, it wouldn’t have been Draco.

Harry didn’t ask and didn’t see him again.

-

One morning, Harry brought him a bagel, from an actually good bakery, poppyseed, and Draco threw it in the bin without looking at it for more than three seconds. Rolled his eyes.

Annoyed about it even after, Harry went to smear his used up hand on Draco’s fine-fabric lap and Draco grabbed his wrist just as tight as he had the very first time, pulled him close and pinned him against the flimsy stall wall and jerked him off like that, brow furrowed and furious, Harry’s fly barely undone. 

“Don’t you dare,” Draco said, but his voice was rubbed raw and wanting all over, it sounded the same way it did when Harry used his spit-slicked fingers or tongue and Draco breathed, “Potter,” that splintered warning way furled right into his ear. It meant, “Yes.” 

His eyes were so bright they looked melted, the reduction of some coarse ore and he stared wild and steady and close.

-

So, Harry went after it.

He was good at this actually; he had an explicit talent when it came to glimpsing the shyest glint of far-off light and barreling towards it. And he’d seen it, that time and before, the incandescence of something huge folded into a tiny, hard to find promise. Draco had always played dirty, a little viscous, but he hadn't beaten him at fourteen and he certainly wouldn't win this time. 

Harry had caught it before and he would close his fist around it, again. Victors and spoils and all that.

for day 20 of @microficmay

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

THE BEAR S3 Predictions

Just a mental note I'm putting out here to be able to revisit it when the time comes to check its level of accuracy. I have the feeling that S3 is going to be the season of the reconciliations.

The relationship between Richie and Carmy is completely broken after the walk-in incident and Richie walks from The Bear. He happens to get some kinda job offer and accepts it just to prove Carmy wrong. They will later spend a good portion of S3 trying to repair their bond. By the end of S3 (hopefully sooner) there should be a reconciliation of some sort between them and Richie should go back to The Bear.

Nat gives birth to her new "cub" and this brings the family together. There is a reconciliation with Donna, which in some capacity benefits not only the siblings but the entire team, the restaurant as a whole. Not exactly sure how this will play out, but Donna will quit being this negative and toxic influence on everyone. Maybe she gets clean because she takes this baby as a new chance to start over and be a better grandmother than the mother she was. IDK...

Marcus' mother dies and this juxtaposition of new beginnings, births, endings, death, etc is going to be a theme throughout the whole season, that is why I actually think this funeral will be the opener.

There will be some kinda flashback episode, like 7 Fishes or a montage of some memory that has a huge impact on one or more characters. I have my $ put on the Sundays, Mr. Adamu and lil Syd would spend at Mr. Beef's. I strongly disagree with the weak argument that just because the Berzattos are catholic, their restaurant didn't open on Sundays. The gastronomic industry cares very little about those traditions especially if the place is struggling. I bet they were open every Sunday part-time, just for lunch, to get all the demand of those who went to church just because business-wise it makes total sense.

Carmen will apologize to Claire. Not sure what she's gonna make of that apology, whether she's gonna accept it or not, I hope she doesn't. I'm pretty sure there will be no reconciliation here. I don't necessarily oppose Carmy having a romantic partner and as much as I ship SydCarmy like nobody's business, I'm 100% sure they are not gonna happen any time soon. Maybe and this is a HUGE maybe, they could be the perfect cliffhanger for S4. But that would be a stretch. Not that Store & Calo couldn't pull it off, but still. So, basically, I am all for a new love interest being presented to Carmen just to see how he responds to it. After Claire he should go back to his old lone-wolf ways, I need to test that behavioral theory though, so I need a new female character to do it.

Last, but certainly not least, Miss Adamu needs her man and I'm not talking about Bear. I want to know more about Sydney's past and see her letting her hair down, putting her records on, and all that jazz. So, maybe an old flame can re-appear in her life and they can try to "reconcile". This reconciliation shouldn't work either because she's now devoted to making The Bear work and is basically a workaholic and both, Carmy & her get into this synch of type As on Speed and Red Bull, non-stop working machines, well-oiled now that they had already learned from their mistakes and The Bear succeeds but Sydney's relationship with her guy from the past fails, again. The guy feels like a 3rd wheel and lets her know that she's not in a relationship with him but with her job. Sydney understands the subtext, and this break-up is actually a wake-up call for her. She starts seeing what we all shippers are already seeing. It's not just about work for her. Yes, The Bears are too absorbing and demanding, both, the restaurant and the chef, but she doesn't mind. She loves it. Love is the operative word here. This realization should hit her hard by the end of the season.

The background of all the things I just mentioned above will be the BOH, fast-paced, chaotic, and working like a Swiss clock, just like Carmy likes it.

Am I missing something? Probably. Can't wait to find out.

Bonus tracks: I am pretty sure the wedding will either be Teff's or Fak's.

And lastly: When Sydcarmy happens, it will "officially" start with something small and inane like Syd accidentally finding out Carm has been drawing portraits of her all along... CHECK THIS OUT, I think Storer & Calo have something like this in mind or along these lines, and it should come along in S3, minus the sex part.

[fictionadventurer]

I have some thoughts about Vanity Fair now that I've finished it.

Maybe I have a higher tolerance for realism than some people, but I wouldn't call the ending bleak. Not cheery, certainly. I look at the things that happen and I'm just, "Yeah, that's life. Sometimes things happen that way. Wish they didn't, but oh well." It's not glorying in anybody's unhappy end. Not saying they did or didn't deserve it. It's just...this is what happened. Because life doesn't always go the way we want it to.

(Maybe I was just too willing to dismiss the suggestion of murder, IDK. The narrative skips by it so fast and there are so many other characters I care about more that I don't really put my focus there.)

Also, I've got some beef with whoever wrote the Wikipedia analysis of Vanity Fair. It suggests that Thackeray shows us these sympathetic characters and then shows they were unworthy of regard. First off, I think Thackeray was equally brutal to these characters all through the book, and actually got kinder to them in later portions. But also, it's not about being "worthy" of regard. Someone can be good and also be a fool. They can do terrible things but also have moments of kindness. The bad qualities don't mean that the good ones don't exist. Yeah, sure, maybe Thackeray had a poor opinion of most people, but you don't have to share the poor opinion or just focus on the bad parts. The way I look at it, it's just realism--there's good and bad mixed in all people and most of us are just muddling through life, but we can still care about and tell those stories.

I think I had a point somewhere but I lost it so I'll stop typing now.

[werebutch]

ive only ever cooked extremely basic things but seeing you so happy with what you make makes me want to try something new. do you have anything easy i should give a try? :)

Hi Cole!! This is so sweet I’m glad it inspires you ^__^ I’m not sure I would call these SUPER easy, but I will try hehe:

Broccoli apple salad — not truly cooking but still a fave. It’s a lot of servings but it’s good over a few days. If you do plan to store it, make sure to only add the dressing to the portion you’re eating right then. Otherwise it’ll get watery and gross. Common sense but somehow I always forget lol

Baked feta soup — this is paywalled but I did manage to get screenshots and use those ^__^! Its simple and straightforward but also kinda fancy LOL. Instead of white bread I like to use sourdough for the bread bits

Mushroom & spinach stromboli — my family doesn’t like mushrooms so I just put more spinach in :) this recipe is what first sparked my interest in cooking like a year ago.. I usually can’t find the specific dough they want you to have, so just use your discretion to get what’s closest and cut it if needed!

Beef nilaga — it’s really hard to find a good recipe for some reason.. if you’ve had it before, you’ll almost certainly be able to guess your measurements which is what I do. personally, I’m used to a very bare bones nilaga that my bff’s family makes (literally just napa and beef with fish sauce and peppercorns). I recommend either asking a flip friend or browsing through nilaga recipes to see which one you like best - there’s quite a bit of variation, you can pretty much put anything in it. Next time I make it, I’ll record my measurements :3

I hope this isn’t too intimidating LOL don’t be afraid to mess up.. even if you do, chances are it’s still going to taste fine, even if the Stromboli tears or the feta soup burns a little. It’s why I like cooking a lot more than baking: there’s room to mess up ^__^

[scratchandplaster]

Windfall

CW: supernatural Whumper, body control, blood, medieval setting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Whumpee hurried down the farm track, his makeshift shoes had to hold on until he finally reached the doorstep. After a day of backbreaking work, his family surely had their dinner, always leaving a portion for the straggler.

Please let it be a beef stew today, another round of kale would kill him on the spot. 

He hated working on the village's market, day in and day out walking miles for less than poor reward; the oven flames at the back of his neck and flour pressed into every pore of his face, he tried to let the sunlight run out in peace.

Whumpee knew which turn to take, as the late evening bathed the orchards in an ink-blue smear of shapes, his cottage was just a few fields further south.

Although the sharecropper had already collected this year's harvest, a quick peek onto the field shouldn't do any harm, Whumpee decided. Each leftover fruit he could bring home to his family was worth more than the few pennies the master baker let him keep.

Marmalade would be the best option, he pondered, to keep any sweet troves fresh even as the quickly approaching winter left the trees barren, just as their pantry.

Climbing quickly over the fence, no spying eyes in sight yet, Whumpee started to search the ground for anything non-rotten and hopefully delicious, when his view got caught on a quivering shape only a few feet away.

In the twilight, the shadow came further towards him to reveal a raven: writhing helplessly through the wet grass and not seeming to mind him at all.

It really was a gorgeous animal, one that Whumpee only ever admired from afar, or rather had to scare away from the family's crops when he was younger. Now standing at the tip of his feet, it seemed more disoriented than anything.

Carefully, Whumpee kneeled down to catch a better look of the bird, as it again hopped on one leg with a curious expression on its face.

Was it a face? Maybe on its beak?

It was rare to see these creatures approach people without ear-numbing screeches or ominous fluttering, so this had to be a tame one. He remembered his mother talking about a hermit a few villages onward who kept a handful of docile pigeons, maybe this raven also had a flock to return to.

But certainly not in this condition.

"Are you lost?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't get much smarter through that. With a low rumble from the chest, the raven let its head fall to the side. Whumpee followed suit, copying the stance of the curious bird. The blue shimmer of its feathers had a mesmerizing glow to it, a beautiful thing, truly... 

The sun had set and as the realization hit him with a flash, he quickly got up again.

"I really have to go home. Good luck!"

His brothers would ridicule him if they ever caught him talking to animals, but that's what he got for being the youngest of them. Was he really that naive?

A nearly inaudible caw left the raven's bill, the sound of loneliness weighing down heavy on Whumpee's conscience. It was probably hurt too, so a night out here in the wilderness meant certain death. A pity, really, he wouldn't see such a special pet every day.

He thought of his family and supper, still warm and waiting for him over the hearth. What had gotten into him?

"Just for tonight," Whumpee said with a heavy sigh, "my mother will despise me for bringing you with, but it'll be alright for now."

The ball of feathers was gently lifted from the damp ground, now sitting safe and secure atop Whumpee's palms. As he turned it from side to side to catch a better look at any possible injuries, the raven's head snapped forward with a quick jerk, digging its beak deep into his left wrist.

Deafened by his own shouting and cursing, Whumpee didn't even seem to mind when it withdrew again to hop contently back down on its feet and rub his plumage.

The blood-slicked bird now glowed even more brightly under the moonlight, still watching the furious man intently.

Whumpee huffed deeply, pushing down his anger and frustration. 

"That's what I get for being so foolish!" he thought with a bitter grin. Maybe he should put the nasty beast in the stew for a change... God knows what kind of plague he already caught by touching this thing-

A soft coo ripped him from his thoughts and the steady pulsing of his arm, red already dripping everywhere: the bird ruffled its feathers more distinct this time, demanding attention as it skipped up and down.

Any idea to snatch leftover fruit had become obsolete.

With a quick twirl, the raven rolled on its back only to turn over again on its tiny claws... One-two-three hops it made to finish this bizarre performance.

"Is that your apology?" Whumpee's sceptical murmur was interrupted by another roll to the side, with a double spin at the end. It did look endearing like that... 

He had to get home, right? To clean out the bite that felt less and less painful the more he watched that silly dance.

Coming to a halt again, he noticed how it hopped further down the awry trail to his left, a road that would certainly lead him further away from his destination.

"But I really can't, I need to-" 

As the raven pecked twice on the dirty gravel, the sound made Whumpee's body jerk forward on its own accord.

When did his feet become so light?

Something was different from before, the erring security that spread through his body couldn't match his racing thoughts, as he followed the pleased bird through the thicket; gaze fixed onto it as it flew in circles, drawing ring after ring into the air.

Its owner sure would be relieved to have it back, but he also had to return at some point, a point that was already overstepped.

The idea of such a wonderful reunion pushed all the spinning worries from his mind; Whumpee had become too busy watching the raven's mesmerizing waltz to recognize the passing countryside that framed the odd pair.

"They are a bad omen," his mother always said, "what remains of damned souls in this world. They only bring-"

The bird let out a shrill cry, demanding Whumpee's regard once again. Through the pitch-black darkness around him, he could only feel himself heave through a stream of water. The current threatened to push him off balance more than once, but under the watchful eyes of his companion, Whumpee could feel the fast-approaching bliss of home. 

He had to hurry now... How curious, was there ever a river this close to their old cottage?

The moon behind the treetops decided to reveal a glade, where Whumpee's legs restlessly strode to a large stone building in its middle. Without thinking twice about it, the bird led him through the opened entrance gate, past the bare foyer, until their strange journey ended promptly in the castle's library.

Walls of bound paper and leather engulfed a crackling fireplace, which seemed to be already dying down, but nevertheless let the room shine in its warmth.

When Whumpee finally came to a rest, all the suppressed feeling of the last hour came over him in a flash of agony: burning exhaustion of his muscles joining itself with the confused thoughts screaming inside his head.

The false comfort of home throughout the room did all but calm his racing heart.

And there it was, the raven, standing tall before the flames.

Something had changed in its pitiable sight. Second by second its bony chest grew wider, its beak retracting inside and claws changing from the leathery black skin into larger appendages - into legs.

The horrifying creature, now a mixture of tinted plumage and formless extremities, only became larger and larger and forcing Whumpee to stare up in silent terror.

Too cold and tired to flee from this unholy beast, he had to hold out until it settled into a familiar shape.

A man, dressed in fine silk and wrapped in a cloak made of slick blue fabric that reminded Whumpee of the animal he had just seen moments ago, looked down on his guest.

Dried blood was smeared across the golden embroidery, shimmering just as vividly as the wound on Whumpee's forearm. The man seemed to wait for any kind of reaction, the bright gleam in his eyes and trusting smile inviting him to open up. But no friendliness could calm his rabbit-fast pulse, it felt like nothing ever could.

"I-" Whumpee croaked, at last ready to beg for an explanation, yet being directly interrupted by the man's quiet voice.

"You are lost, friend," he reasoned with a tone so loving Whumpee nearly believed him for a second, "and I seem to be in dire need of some assistance!"

With that, he draped his cloak around Whumpee's shoulders, warmth pressing heavy onto his already tired mind:

"What a relief that we found each other!"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterpost]

[jakey-beefed-it]

Thoughts on depictions of Certain Villains using their depression as an excuse to be fuckstains in FFXIV. Under a cut because spoilers

Preface that I am enjoying the hell out of Endwalker and as a whole have nothing but good things to say about it. Including its portrayal of devastatingly bleak circumstances hammering home the sheer pervasive inescapable horror of despair. And the following isn’t even a complaint about the writing (except that I’m still Annoyed by the mincing camp-gay villain stereotype Fandaniel is), it’s just a pesonal beef with a certain type of person who is, tbh, not unreasonably portrayed in the game- the edgelord who takes his depression and makes it everyone else’s problem.

Maybe it’s the ‘Has struggled his whole life with depression’ in me but I have found myself struggling to regard a lot of these depressive bastards in Endwalker with anything but moderate to severe contempt. 

Fandaniel gets the worst of it; like, yeah, having the Fermi Paradox answered in that depressing a fashion after struggling with feeling like you’re the only one who cares at *all* about the well-being of ‘lesser’ creatures is gonna kick your teeth in, emotionally. Hermes, I get. Hermes, I sympathize with. 

And being reborn again and again only to confront that same nihilistic despair sucks! Feeling like you’re the only sane person surrounded by uncaring, unfeeling monsters sucks! Amon even gets some sympathy.

Fandaniel, though, the modern iteration that’s sort of the culmination of the two plus however many other lifetimes, is just so offensively bad a caricature of campy nihilism I just wanna roll my eyes so hard they come loose and rattle around my sinuses for a while. 

And collectively, the lot of them, like, I get it. I’m a depressive fucko, too. But you don’t... go around imposing that on others? That’s supremely immature in a way most literal children aren’t. It’s such pathetic wannabe edgelord behavior it just irritates me. 

There’s a music video, Radiohead’s ‘Just’. In it, some guy just lies down on the sidewalk and gives up. Okay. Fair, that’s certainly a choice I’ve been tempted to make. And people come along, and they ask him ‘wtf, man’ and he says ‘don’t worry about it, you don’t want to know’ but they insist for various Capitalist reasons that he Must Get Up and Get Back to Work (it’s very Metamorphosis in that regard) or at least tell them why, and of course he ends up doing so finally in a portion of the video where you see his mouth moving, but there are no captions, so you don’t know exactly what he said. But the next shot is of everyone else lying down on the pavement, too, so presumably it was the sort of existential despair on display with the various dragons and Ea we see recreations of in Ultima Thule.

That guy didn’t make it everyone else’s problem in any aggressive way, and while personally I’m of the opinion that such activities are better reserved for the privacy of one’s own home (depression naps all the way to actual suicide) rather than inflicting them on the general public, the POINT of the video is that the mere act of giving up/opting out is itself unacceptable to the whole Capitalist Machine, so sure, he does this in public because no matter where he does it it’s gonna be ‘disruptive’, might as well go for disruptive.

But yeah, anyhow back on track, Hermes and his reincarnations, Zenos, and the Meteia (though I don’t blame them so much given they were set up to fail by a shitty parent creator) are all about Making Their Depression Everyone’s Problem, and I just can’t abide that shit. What are you, twelve? Lashing out because surely nobody’s ever felt this way before? Meteion is a child, relatively speaking, hence she gets much more of a pass, but Hermes? Zenos?

Alisaie at least reads Zenos for filth.

The game is very good at Themes, and conveying the whole Meaning Is Where You Make It approach to nihilism, which I agree with enthusiastically and respect, but to contrast that you need some first year philosophy student wannabe Nietzcheans (who don’t even get HIM for that matter). I get it, but they do annoy me, perhaps because I have dealt with enough ‘dark enlightenment’ assholes who use their depression as an excuse to be the fucking worst.

Pull yourself together and plant a flower, ya fuckwads. Admittedly Eitherys doesn’t have prozac, but a tactile hobby and choosing to see the good when you can goes a long ass way.

Ya dicks.

[heniareth]

For the seven characters thing: Zev, Alistair, Morrigan, Wynne, Leliana, Sten, and Ilanlas c:

Ooooh, the core companions!! This is going to be delicious 👀👀👀👀👀 Let's get to it!

I'm going grocery shopping with Alistair

Alistair strikes me as the ultimate roommate. And so I'm taking him grocery shopping! We're going to load the cart full of good food, gawk at exorbitant prices and make fun of weird products in the supermarket. He's going to buy too much food bc he's used to calculating portions for all of the templar recruits and it will be fine because we all eat more than we reasonably should be able to. And careying everything up the stairs won't be a problem bc Alistair's strong and I am... getting there XD XD XD

I'm going to have lunch with Ilanlas

We're going to a steak house. A fancy one. We're going to try a meat platter if they have one. I really really want to know what he thinks of beef and chicken and our modern day meat in general, as well as the preparation modes. He's probably going to descend into a rant at some point. I'll needle him for recipes and I hope he gives me one or two. I would also really want him to try Wagyu meat (hope I spelled that one right), but it's probably over my budget. We'll gaze whistfully at it.

I'm going to have coffee with Zevran

I really wanted to take him as a plus one to the wedding, but I suspect he'll assume I expect some kind of service out of him. And I don't want that. And I want to get him some good food, but Ilanlas is already coming to the steak house. So I'm inviting him out for coffee. My treat. I'll get a bunch of sweet and savory food too to go with it and we'll just eat our way through that. A conversation will surely be struck up, and knowing Zevran, it will flow nicely. I do hope he enjoys the food tho. No idea what he'll make of our coffee. I'm interested in learning.

I'm going to go thrift shopping with Morrigan

I feel like Morrigan would be the most appreciative of thriftstores and would also find stuff she likes in there. I personally don't enjoy thrift shopping so much as thrift looking. I'll be coming with, point out ridiculous outfits, look for stuff that Morrigan might like, give my honest opinion when it's time to try the garments on. Girls' night!

I'm going to explore a aquarium art gallery museum with Sten

Listen. Listen. The personal gifts for this man include art. They're almost all paintings. I'm taking him to a classic art museum. We're gonna walk around for hours while he looks at the paintings, makes vague noises and I try to strike up a conversation. It will devolve into a philosoohical debate that will end up going in circles. It will be fun and exhausting.

I'm going to a bookstore with Wynne

I want to know what kind of romance novels she reads. I want to maybe leaf through one, and maybe be a little bit surprised by the things she likes to read. I'm also imagining her walking into a bookstore with So Many Books and going all O.O Books can't be that common in Thedas, and they certainly don't look like ours. I bet Wynne has never heard of a paperback.

I'm going to take Leliana as my plus one to a wedding

Since Zevran is not coming with me, Leliana is! We can dress up fancy, and you know Leliana would love that. We can cheer for the bride and groom, eat lovely food, dance, talk with and about the guest... I think ot would be a lot of fun!

Thank you for the ask!!! I tell you, this was the most welcome distraction today. Hope you're having a lovely day!!

(Here's the seven characters thing)

[manor-tea-time]

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?(for everyone- i really wanna know who they all hate,, 👀)

((There certainly is a bit of gossip/beef between some of them! (even if they don't fess up to it). Some of it being fairly messy so tbh I can't say I blame you anon! ( -⌄• )✧

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Wayne:

Shadowed Man.

Shadowed Man was essentially the main factor that caused Wayne's life to go south in a lot of ways. Not only did they kill his family in front of him, but now the living shadow makes it their duty to more or less mentally fuck with Wayne as a form of entertainment. Wayne more or less would do just about anything to try to get rid of them if he could.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

LeRoy:

Mr. Eldrich (His old boss)

Mr. Eldrich caused LeRoy's hatred for the "key-man" nickname. Insisting on that rather than learning the man's actual name a good portion of the time. During his time at the park, LeRoy noticed him covering up multiple instances of the strange creature that was roaming about - going so far as to pay hush money to families. Needless to say, LeRoy lost a good majority of respect for him!

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Ivy:

Mr. Carlton

Mr. Carlton was the shop Ivy worked at's old Benefactor. A rich old man who basically knew little to nothing about fashion, but paid funded the shop so his 3rd wife would be happy and have a place to commission gowns. During Miss Manni's disappearance, he began to panic as the main "face" of the store was missing, insisting Ivy step up and be the replacement. His erratic actions in that moment are what cause her main hatred for him.

Eleanor (although slightly)

They essentially only have in-game beef. It's like saying you dislike running into a certain hunter after you can't kite them well. Their rivalry could easily be solved if they apologized to one another.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Eleanor:

Mr. and Mrs. May

Eleanor's hatred for her parents simply comes from their own rash decisions. She's been forever angry and confused as to why instead of letting her become a ballerina they decided to lock her within one of their small workshops and let her fade away.

Ivy (more slightly)

She also has a fair amount of in game beef with her. However, its more so in the goofier way of "if you're gonna talk smack in chat I'll ban you from this rank match" type logic. Her main downfall with the Costume Maker is doubling down on her own blunt statements.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Miss Manni:

Mr. and Mrs. Morr

As the main causes of her current predicament, she more or less has mentally sworn to rain hell fire upon them if she ever runs into them in the manor somehow.

Shadowed Man

Their Rivalry mainly stems from them being 2 hunters of 2 different beliefs when it comes to survivors. While Miss Manni thinks of them as trapped souls like herself and nearly sees hunting as a job she's forced into, The Shadowed Man is the exact opposite, happily embracing his title and causing suffering where he can. Needless to say this has caused multiple arguments between the two - to the point where they refuse to collaborate together in any match setting.

Mr. Carlton

She simply finds him to be fairly washed up. Every time he speaks she gets closer to the "girlboss hating men" troupe. She was originally looking for a benefactor to replace him before she set off on her commission trip for Mr. and Mrs. Morr.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The Shadowed Man:

Wayne

The Shadowed Man's original hatred for Wayne came simply from the small lamp he carried with him to and from work. Seeing it as something that broke the beautiful darkness the shadow resided in. However, now, his hatred more stands in the fact that Wayne was the sole survivor of his family. Seeing most of his time at the manor similarly to how a animal would play with their food before killing it. The shadow is biding its time and seeing how long the lamp maker can provide them with entertainment.

Miss Manni

Mutual Hatred! Upon realizing her views upon herself and survivors, they've mentally marked them as "weak" or "cowardly". Stating multiple times how holding onto her humanity is holding her back from her true potential as a hunter.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

[iranknoodles]

MAMA - ORIENTAL STYLE INSTANT CHAND NOODLES (BEEF FLAVOUR): PHO BO

PRODUCT

Origin: Thailand

Brand: MAMA

Flavour: Pho Bo

Ingredients:

Rice (64%)

Tapioca Starch

Palm Oil

Salt

Sugar

Flavourings

Flavour Enhancers (E621, E635)

Dried Spring Onion

Spices

Dried Chilli

Colour (E150a)

Special Indications: Halal (?) [it is unclear whether or not all are halal or just the specific version obtained here, as the symbol does not appear in all iterations of the packaging]

Preparation:

Put the noodles and the seasoning in a bowl

Boil 1 and a half cups of water

Cover the noodles and the seasoning with the boiling water

Cover the bowl

Wait for 3 minutes

----

REVIEW

Preparation: 9/10 - Easy

Appearence: 6/10 - Average (nothing special but nothing weird either)

Smell: 7/10 - Good (smelled a lot like spring onion)

Flavour Accuracy: 4/10 - Not Accurate (it does taste like beef but not specifically like pho)

Tastiness: 8/10 - Very Tasty (the noodles do not absorb the taste very well but the soup is quite nice. very intense flavour)

Texture: 4.5/10 - Odd (oddly like slightly uncooked fettucine)

Portion: 6/10 - Average (it works as a meal but if you want to eat more, you definitely can)

Final Rating: 7 - Good

Final Considerations: It's surprisingly good. The real problem is the fact that it does not emulate Pho Bo very well. But if you're seeking rice noodles with beef flavour, then it's certainly an option to consider.

[xtruss]

How Healthy Is It To Eat Meat Every Day? The Answer Depends on a Few Things. Here's What the Experts are Saying.

— By Allison Arnold

Meat makes up a large portion of many Americans' diets. While vegan and vegetarian diets have become more widespread, so have paleo and keto lifestyles that incorporate lots of meat. There are a lot of conflicting opinions out there about whether meat is "healthy" and whether it's okay to consume it every day. To understand more about the health impacts of eating meat so frequently, we consulted two leading experts for their insight.

Is Meat 'Healthy'?

"Healthy is a nuanced term with different meanings depending on who you ask," said Rosemary Trout, program director of culinary arts and food science at Drexel University. Meat is a great source of protein that has all of the essential amino acids, and it also contains nutrients like vitamin B12, iron, and zinc.

"Protein in animal meat is absorbed and assimilated efficiently compared to other sources, like plant-based protein," said Trout. You can still get all of your amino acids through plant-based foods, but you'll need to eat complimentary proteins, such as rice with beans.

From poultry and beef to pork, lamb, and bison, there's a lot of variety among different meats. In addition to protein and nutrients, meat also has fat and cholesterol, and this varies by type. "Too much fat can cause weight gain, which can cause metabolic disorders, and has an impact on blood triglycerides and cholesterol," said Trout.

Additionally, some meat, like bacon and deli meat, can be highly processed. "Meat that has added ingredients like salt, sugar, nitrates or added fat because it is part of cured, prepackaged or frozen meal, still delivers protein, but you will also get other ingredients that might not be good on a daily basis."

There's system for rating foods based on how processed they are called NOVA. It has four groups, ranging from unprocessed and minimally processed to ultra-processed. Cuts of meat like steak and poultry are considered group 1, while bacon, beef jerky, and cured meat are part of group three and are considered processed. Prepared products like burgers, hot dogs, and chicken nuggets are considered ultra-processed.

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How Much Meat Is Healthy To Eat?

The Recommended Dietary Allowance is 0.8 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight per day. This is the minimum amount people should consume and will vary based on other factors like their activity level. According to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans, it's recommended to consume a total of 26 ounces of meats, poultry, and eggs per week.

"While people don't have to eat meat every day, if they eat appropriate portions along with nutrient-dense foods that fit into a healthy diet, eating meat every day can be acceptable," said Lauren Manaker, registered dietitian.

Many people, though, are eating large portions of meat that exceed these recommendations. A serving size of meat is 3 to 4 ounces, according to the American Cancer Society. This is much smaller than most people consume at any given meal. To reduce portion sizes, Manaker recommends combining meat with plant-based proteins.

Recommendations For Eating Meat

"If you are looking for minimally processed food that is high in protein, you can certainly make a case for eating meat every day," said Trout. She recommends looking where meat falls on the NOVA classification system and seeking out options with a low number. "Stick with fresh or case-ready meats and cook it yourself."

In addition to portion size, Manaker recommends limiting ultra-processed products and looking for lean cuts of meat. This includes white meat chicken for poultry, flank steak for red meat, and pork sirloin or tenderloin. And what you eat with your meat is just as important. "Your sides can add fiber, micronutrients, and other important factors to your meal," said Manaker.

[peternelthorpe]

Father's Day Steak: Tips For Cooking a Mouth-Watering Steak

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Father's Day Steak: Tips For Cooking a Mouth-Watering Steak

It’s a trite, but often repeated saying: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. So why, when Father’s Day rolls around, do we buy endless ties and “message” T shirts? Is the way to his heart through his clothes? Not likely. It’s the stomach, people, and that means good food. For many men, good food comes in the form of a great steak.

So what if you’re not a steak eater, or you eat it only in restaurants and the thought of purchasing a raw slab scares you to death? Fear not. It’s not that complicated, really. Even a caveman can handle this job.

It’s important to know your cuts of meat before planning the menu. You don’t want to cook the dad in your life a tasteless, tough piece of leather. You might not notice the difference, but let’s face it – he will. Since you’ll likely be grilling, it’s important to know the best cuts of meat for the grill.

You want to choose the most tender portions of meat for grilling. Experts generally consider these cuts of beef to be the best for grilling:

– Rib Eye – T-Bone – Porterhouse – Strip steak (like New York steak)

If there is the word “loin” on the package, you’re in good shape, though most grill experts agree the T-bone is the most superior cut of beef for grilling. It stays tender and juicy, and is thick enough to withstand a fair amount of time on the grill without overcooking. Stay away from top round or anything with “round” or “chuck” in the name. These will not cook well on the grill. Flank steak and London broil can also be tough.

Next, it’s important to know how to choose a steak. Don’t just grab the first package that looks good to you. Look for some good marbling in the steak. Yes, this is another word for fat. But we’re not cooking for the dieter in the family on this special day, we’re trying to give dad a good steak, remember? Those little bits of fat scattered about the steak will essentially melt while the meat is cooking, giving the meat a rich and more tender flavor.

In that same vein, don’t trim the fat from your steak before cooking. It might be the diet book author in you coming out, but that thick layer of fat around your steak is what will give the steak a wonderful juicy quality and rich flavor. You can cook the steak, and then trim the fat, but cook the steak while it’s still dressed in its fat clothes. It’s worth it.

Do you need to buy a “name brand” steak? Experts say it’s not necessary, even though branded meat is a new commodity and becoming more widely available. Nor is it necessary to choose a steak from a butcher shop or from behind the glass window in the meat department at your local grocery store. Usually the pre-packaged steaks are the same you would get from behind the glass, and since the butcher is a dying breed, you could certainly go that route if you have a neighborhood butcher, but if not, a good quality grocery store will provide what you need.

Finally, it’s important to know your grades of steak.

– Prime is the top grade, and it features the most marbling and is the most tender, but most of us don’t have access to this grade in mainstream grocery stores. This is often what you get in a restaurant.

– Choice is the best grade most of us can get in the grocery store. But choice does not guarantee high quality as this grade encompasses meat that can be almost as good as prime, or almost as bad as select, our next grade.

– Select beef is the most lean and least expensive beef and is the grade of beef most commonly found in your grocery store meat case. Since this is Father’s Day, try to find choice and splurge a little.

If you are unsure about your ability to pick up a good steak locally, consider ordering online and having fresh, high-quality steaks delivered to your door.

At OmahaSteaks.com, you can buy a large variety pack of meat, grill some for dad, and then send him home with a few spares for another day. KansasCitySteaks.com offers prime quality steaks for a restaurant-quality dad’s meal.

[24x7pharma]

Is Burger Bad For Men's Health

When it comes to men's health, the humble burger often gets a bad rap. But is it really the enemy of a healthy diet? As with most things in nutrition, the answer is more complex. Burgers, when consumed in moderation, can be a part of a balanced diet. 

However, it's important to pay attention to the quality of the meat and toppings used. A burger made with lean beef, topped with veggies, and served on a whole-grain bun can provide a good source of protein and other important nutrients. 

On the other hand, a burger loaded with processed cheese and bacon, served on a white bun, can pack in a lot of unhealthy saturated fat and sodium. So, in conclusion, burgers can be enjoyed in moderation as part of a balanced diet, but make sure to pay attention to the quality of ingredients.

Toppings and Fillings of Burger

When it comes to burgers, the toppings and fillings are where the real magic happens! These additions can take a basic patty into a flavor explosion. However, while they can make a burger delicious, certain toppings and fillings can also contribute to health problems if consumed in excess.

For example, processed cheese and bacon are high in saturated fat and sodium, which can contribute to heart disease and high blood pressure if consumed in excess. Similarly, mayonnaise and creamy sauces can also be high in fat and calories. 

To balance out the burger and make it a healthier option, you can add more vegetables as toppings, such as lettuce, tomato, cucumber, avocado, and mushrooms which are low in calories and high in fibre and vitamins.

Also, lean meat, like turkey or chicken, instead of beef or plant-based alternatives like soy or mushroom burgers, can reduce the burger's saturated fat and cholesterol content. Furthermore, whole-grain buns instead of white buns can add more fibre and nutrients to the burger.

Side Effects of Eating Too Many Burgers

Eating too many burgers can have some serious side effects on your health. Consuming excessive amounts of saturated fat, sodium, and processed meat can lead to various issues, including weight gain, heart disease, and high blood pressure. 

At 24x7 Pharma, we believe it's important to be aware of these potential risks so you can make informed decisions about your diet. Let's discuss each side effect one by one.

Weight Gain

Eating burgers in excess can lead to weight gain. One of the main reasons for this is that burgers are often high in calories and fat. A typical fast food burger can contain anywhere from 300-700 calories, and a significant portion comes from fat. 

Consuming too many high-calorie foods can cause an increase in body weight. Additionally, burgers are often served with high-calorie sides, such as French fries and soft drinks, which can also contribute to weight gain. 

It's important to note that weight gain is complex, and various factors contribute to it. However, consuming too many high-calorie foods such as burgers can certainly be a contributing factor.

To maintain a healthy weight. Paying attention to portion sizes and balancing out high-calorie foods with healthier options is important. Eating burgers in moderation and combining them with fruits, vegetables, and whole-grain sides can make a meal healthier.

Leave You Bloated 

Eating burgers in excess can also leave you feeling bloated. One of the reasons for this is that burgers are often high in sodium, which can cause water retention in the body. Consuming excessive amounts of sodium can lead to a feeling of puffiness and discomfort.

The high-fat content in burgers can also slow digestion, leading to bloating and discomfort. It's important to note that bloating can be caused by various factors, such as certain medical conditions or food intolerances. However, consuming too much sodium and fat, like in burgers, can be a contributing factor.

To avoid bloating. It's important to pay attention to portion sizes and to balance out high-sodium foods with healthier options. Drinking plenty of water and taking Fildena 150 mg, a medication that can help with bloating and discomfort can help reduce bloating symptoms.

Brings Digestive Problems

Eating too many burgers can lead to digestive issues. The high levels of saturated fat and processed meat in burgers can cause indigestion, heartburn, bloating, constipation, and Diarrhoea. 

Additionally, the high sodium content in burgers can lead to dehydration and electrolyte imbalances, while the high protein content can lead to acid reflux.

Consuming excessive amounts of these ingredients can strain the digestive system and cause discomfort. It's crucial to remember that various factors can cause digestive problems, but consuming too many burgers can certainly contribute.

To avoid these issues. It's important to pay attention to portion sizes and balance out high-fat and high-sodium foods with healthier options. Eating various whole foods, including fruits, vegetables, and whole grains, and drinking plenty of water can help improve digestion.

Affect Your Mood

Eating burgers in excess can harm your mood. Consuming large amounts of saturated fat and processed meat can lead to feelings of sluggishness and fatigue. Additionally, the high levels of salt and sugar found in many burgers can lead to mood swings and irritability.

Vidalista 60, a medication used to treat erectile dysfunction, may also be affected by a burger diet as it may cause high blood pressure and cholesterol, leading to cardiovascular disease. Consuming burgers in moderation is important as part of a balanced diet.

Risk of Heart Diseases

While burgers can be a tasty option, consuming them in large quantities can raise the risk of heart disease. This is because burgers often contain high levels of saturated fat and processed meats, raising cholesterol and increasing the likelihood of heart attacks and strokes. 

Additionally, the salt and sugar in burgers can contribute to high blood pressure, another risk factor for heart disease. Even the burger's bun can be problematic as it contains refined carbohydrates, which can increase the risk of heart disease. 

To lower the risk., it's essential to limit burger intake and opt for lean meats and whole-grain buns when possible. A balanced diet, regular exercise, and avoiding smoking are all important for maintaining a healthy heart.

Risk of Cancer

Eating too many burgers can increase the risk of cancer due to the high levels of saturated fat and processed meats found in burgers. Saturated fat is known to raise cholesterol levels, which can increase the risk of heart disease. 

Processed meats, such as the deli meats used in burgers, have been classified as carcinogenic by the World Health Organization. Consuming these meats in large quantities can increase the risk of colorectal cancer. 

Additionally, the cooking method used to make burgers, such as grilling or pan-frying, can create cancer-causing compounds called heterocyclic amines. To reduce the risk of cancer. It is important to limit the consumption of burgers and opt for healthier protein sources.

Types of Burgers with No Side Effects

Veggie Burgers

Veggie burgers are made from various plant-based ingredients, such as beans, lentils, and vegetables. They are a great alternative to traditional beef burgers as they are low in saturated fat and cholesterol. 

They are also high in fibre, vitamins, and minerals, making them a nutritious option. Veggie burgers can be at home or in most grocery stores and restaurants.

Turkey Burgers

Turkey burgers are made from ground turkey meat, leaner than beef. They are a great protein source and lower in fat and calories than beef burgers. Turkey burgers can be made at home or in most grocery stores and restaurants.

Salmon Burgers

Salmon burgers are made from ground salmon meat. They are a great source of omega-3 fatty acids, which are beneficial for heart health. They are also a good protein source and lower in fat and calories than beef burgers. Salmon burgers can be made at home or purchased at most grocery stores and seafood markets.

Chicken Burgers

Chicken burgers are made from ground chicken meat, leaner than beef. They are a great protein source and lower in fat and calories than beef burgers. Chicken burgers can be made at home or in most grocery stores and restaurants. They are also a good source of vitamins and minerals, making them nutritious.

Portobello Mushroom Burgers

Portobello mushroom burgers are made from large, mature Portobello mushrooms. They are a great alternative to traditional beef burgers as they are low in saturated fat and cholesterol. 

They are also high in fibre, vitamins, and minerals, making them a nutritious option. Portobello mushroom burgers can be made at home or at some grocery stores and restaurants. They are also a good source of antioxidants which promote overall health.

Conclusion

In conclusion, consuming too many burgers can negatively affect men's health due to the high levels of saturated fat, processed meats, and cooking methods used to make burgers. 

However, alternative options such as veggie, turkey, salmon, chicken, and Portobello mushroom burgers are healthier choices. It's always important to maintain a balance and moderate consumption of burgers in a healthy diet.

[tru-3-beauty]

Misfortune Chapter 1

I walk home after a long day of dealing with idiotic co-workers.  I question how the higher-ups hired them in the first place.  None of them can do their job right.  I should not be on the same level as these morons.  I should be in charge of them all.  It is unfair that some floozie woman got the promotion that a man like me is far more qualified for.  She probably slept with the CEO to get it.

Why are women even working?  They should be at home, cleaning the house, child-rearing, and making dinner for their family.  She also needs to keep herself young and attractive to her husband.  It is evident that when her looks go, he will leave her for someone better looking.  That is why God put women on this earth anyway.

Now, people are saying women are just as good, if not better, than men at things.  That is the most significant load of crap I have ever heard, so I will not listen to that tramp if she asks me to do something.  I insisted that the female coworkers did not know how to do their jobs to their bosses, but they kept dismissing me.

“Baethan, you need to change your outlook on life.  This backward thinking is not healthy for you or anyone.” They keep telling me.  It is annoying that they refuse to see the truth.

Baethan Roberts should not be treated like this.  I deserve to be the CEO of the company, not some lowly accountant.  Not only that,  I should be the biggest name in the world.  The world would be better off if I ruled it to have the highest title ever, a harem of women who will spread their legs at my command and have all the riches in the world.  All while living in a lavish palace that will make other nobles green with envy.

Finally, I get to my apartment on this pleasant, clear spring day.  I look around to see all my furniture and worldly possessions remain. The apartment building has certainly seen better days, but it was the cheapest one that was not about to be condemned.

“I’m home,” I shouted out with no response.

I sighed and wished for a wife.  She would be able to keep the place clean for me.  Heck, she would not be bothered if I came back late with another woman’s scent on me.  Those who preach about fidelity and being faithful are crazy.  Every man on earth should have side pieces.  Women are the ones who should stay faithful and not seek another man.

My stomach begins to make its presence known.  Once again, I wish I had a wife.  Then, she would have supper ready for me to eat piping hot.  I cook a microwave dinner and wait in front of the TV while watching an animated harem show.  I still do not understand how a plain, average-looking boy can get all the hot, sexy girl’s attention.  It just was not fair.

I hear the microwave ding and go and choke down what lesser people will call food.  I look down and remove the transparent plastic film.  Inside the black plastic container is a steak that might be well done, drowning in barbeque sauce as the central portion.  In the side portions, what looks like paste are mashed potatoes and overcooked green beans.  To wash it all down is a cheap beer you can get at a gas station.

I should not be eating this slop.  The food I am worthy of are Salmon Caviar, Garlic butter Lamb Chops, Shrimp Cocktail, Lemon Butter Scallops, Crab Macaroni and cheese, Beef Wellington, Sirloin Steak, Truffle Risotto, and so much more.  Maids would serve the food on golden plates and eat with pure silver utensils.  All while drinking Romanee-Conti 1945 wine in a golden chalice. At the same time, I will sit on a throne-like chair.

I continued to mutter how unjust my life was as I forced this disgusting crap down my throat.   I don't understand how I got to this point at 34.  It is the world’s fault that I am here in the first place.  If only life had made it easier for me.  I hoped that after college, I would become a millionaire, but for some reason, it didn't happen.

Once I finished my so-called dinner, I decided to log in to my social media account and chat with some friends.  They share my view on a lot of things.  Especially the fact that women need to treat us as we deserve to be treated by them.  These friends are like a support group for me.  We just chat and complain about how women are bitches that need to stay in the kitchen at home; instead of being in the working field with us men.

After an hour or two of chatting with them, I figured that I should get ready for bed.  I need some sleep to get that bitch to fail at her job.  It won't be easy, but it is worth it.  I hope she regrets ever joining this company.

I put on a pair of pajama pants and a white T-shirt.  As I brush my teeth, I look in the mirror to check myself out.  Brown shaggy hair that falls just right around my face.  I have a sexy dad-bod that is all the rage right now.  What female wouldn’t want this?  They don’t know what they are missing.  They should be throwing themselves at my feet and begging me to get in their pants and carrying my child.

I finish up and head to my bedroom.  A simple twin-size bed is in the corner of the room. I wrap myself in dirty black cotton sheets and a cheap comforter over them.  A TV tray table stands beside the bed, acting like a nightstand.  It is pathetic.  Especially as I set my alarm on top of the fake nightstand, as I lay down to sleep, I dream about everything that I deserve and will get in a matter of time.

I dream about it all: the power, the women, the home, the meals.  I shall end the day in a grand primary bedroom with a king-size canopy bed in the middle against a wall. They are wrapped in silk from China with a thread count of 500 in Egyptian cotton.  The curtains on the canopy are satin.  The color scheme is red and gold.

Of course, a gorgeous blonde is forever a 25-year-old wife.  She will be at least an inch shorter than my five foot six inches.  A flat stomach with a trim waistline.  Big double D breasts and lovely hips.  The perfect woman and ideal wife material.  

"Come here, Honey.  Let me take good care of you." Her voice is as silk and smooth as honey.

I never want this dream to end.  My life is perfect here.  I can do nothing wrong, and everyone worships the ground I walk on.  And they should do that for being grateful to be in my presence. 

It was ripped away far too soon by the loud sound of the cursed alarm.

Read more of this:

Misfortune: original

Misfortune Chapter 2

Misfortune Chapter 3

Misfortune Chapter 4

Misfortune Chapter 5