#ukraine snacks

[amerasdreams]

I got a package of snacks from Ukraine!!!!

I can't wait to try these

[fortuneworldschoolnoida]

[folklorespring]

My sleeping arrangements 2 years ago, at the beginning of full-scale invasion of Ukraine by russia. You could still hear loud explosions even though we were in the basement. It was so cold and scary, but I have a lot of pictures of me fake smiling during these days to send my parents, so that they wouldn't worry about me.

More people came to the basement later and it was such a bizzare time, everyone had a different day regime, one person's "morning" was another person's "night", when in reality it could be the middle of the day. Doesn't matter what time of the day it was - someone would always be awake, playing games with each other, snacking, reading, talking, making nervous jokes. I sometimes think it was all a fever dream because of how spaced out I was. I went asleep in the morning and during night I would listen to every sound and check news. And air raid, anxiety and explosions would wake me up anyways, so sleep was fragmented. It was also hard to breathe because of the dust and my dermititis or eczema (I'm not sure what it was) was acting up from stress and my hands looked rough, worse than ever in my life, just red with scaling dry skin.

At least I had my duck socks.

[putellas14]

Mapi- "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

content warning: R is a war time reporter assigned to Ukraine

It had been five months since you'd been home. Your job as a journalist for one of the largest news outlets in Spain had sent you to Ukraine to cover the war. The assignment wasn't officially over but they were pulling you out over growing safety concerns. Although you were desperately scared, you didn't want to go home yet. There was still so much news to cover and if you went home, then no one from Spain would be left there to report on what was happening.

They had arranged transport for you the day after notifying you. Which had left you very little time to finish documenting everything you needed for the story you were writing. You worked all night, meeting with different officials and witnesses. And by the morning, you felt mildly confident that you had enough information to write your next piece.

You knew it was nowhere near sufficient, though. All the Ukranian people would be left behind with no option to evacuate with you. And that was something that had begun causing you heartache as soon as you'd read the email you were going home.

The plane ride home was one of the longest flights you'd ever been on. Everyone was completely silent, lost in their own heads processing the last five months and trying to figure out what comes next. Processing how they would return to normal life.

Your team rode in a bus to the office. It was the middle of the work day but your boss had told you all to go home and get some rest.

Your heart started beating a little faster when you saw the familiar car in the lot. And the brunette leaning back against it, arms folded. You'd texted Maria this morning to let her know you'd made it on the plane and you'd see her at home after her training was over. Frowning, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were wrinkled and hadn't been washed in a few days. You hair was an absolute mess. You smelled slightly from the flight.

But when she spotted you through the window of the bus and smiled brightly up at you, none of that mattered. You waited impatiently to get off the bus. Crossing to her quickly, you collapsed against her, your arms tight around her neck.

"Welcome home, my love," she whispered into your neck.

"I missed you," you said before kissing her. Leaning back, you ran a hand through her hair. "I like your hair."

"Let's get you home," she added. She kissed your cheek before bending down for your bag.

At home, you ate a snack, marveling at how amazing it tasted before passing out on the bed. In month two, your hotel had been bombed and since then, you'd been sleeping on a broken cot in a crowded basement with a bunch of other reporters, never sure when your next substantial meal would come.

It was dark outside when you awoke. Maria had laid a sweater at the foot of the bed for you. Smiling at it, you pulled it on, appreciating her thoughtfulness. It was something small but it meant a lot to you.

You found her in the living room, playing with one of the three cats the two of you had adopted last year. "He's gotten so big," you said after watching her from the doorway for a minute.

She looked up at you, smiling. "How was your sleep?" She held her hand out to you.

"Weird to sleep in a bed," you answered, crossing the room to take her hand and sit down on the floor. "It's going to take some getting used to." The black cat crawled up into your lap. "Hola, mi gordito," you whispered, giving him pets.

"They missed you. They'd wait at the front door after I came in, hoping you'd come in behind me."

"That's really sweet," you said. Leaning down, you kissed the top of the cat's head. You snuggled him close for a few minutes before he jumped out of her arms to curl at your feet.

Mapi watched the entire interaction with soft eyes. She'd missed you. Your presence. Your scent. Your loving nature. Even with all the cats, the house had seemed empty. Clearing her throat, she said, "I've got the potatoes boiling. Figured I'd make your favorites for dinner. Probably been a while since you've eaten any of them."

"Thank you, amor."

"I was thinking about getting a run in before we eat. Do you want to come?"

You felt awful but a run would help. You couldn't remember the last time you had been on a run for exercise. Your boss had essentially forbidden leaving for anything non-work related. "I might be a little slow to keep up with you," you admitted shyly.

"You set the pace, babe," she said, reaching over to take your hand. "I'll run with you."

You squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile, grateful to have someone next to you that was as sweet as Maria. And she was true to her word. During the run if her stride starting getting too long, she pulled herself back. She always let you lead.

And in the shower afterwards, she let you lead the slow dance to relearn each other's bodies.

You were quiet through dinner, Mapi knew it. But she filled the space. She let you be as quiet as you needed to be. She gave you everything that you needed that night. She held you on the couch afterwards, running her hands slowly through your hair. The tv was on low in the corner. She whispered sweet words in your ears and made sure you knew how missed you had been. Your emotions got the better of you at one point and tears had filled your eyes. You tried to hide them but she saw and gave you soft kisses in response.

Everything was fine until it was time for bed. Until you laid down in bed and she turned out the light. The dark. The dark was the worst time over there. During the day, you could see. More people were around. At night, it was dark. You were alone. Even in a roomful of people, you were alone.

You were shaking when she got into bed. "Babe." She touched your arm. "What's the matter?"

"I." You grabbed onto her hand. "Can you just hold me?" She laid down, putting her arm around your waist. "Tighter. I need to feel you here."

She pulled you closer to her, keeping a hard grip on you. "Go to sleep, baby. I won't leave you alone." She kissed the top of your head and snuggled into you. "I love you."

"Love you," you muttered into her, slowly relaxing into sleep.

[atom-writings]

Can I request Hetalia main 8 with an S/O who has bad periods that the nations don't understand.

Ivan probably would get stuck asking Ukraine about it and get mildly creeped out when she tells him about boob pain.

(Hetalia Main 8 X Reader) S/O with bad periods

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N JHFDGHJDKF YEAH but for ivan specifically i would argue he is actually pretty familiar with the struggles. Dear people who have periods i am so sorry. also i didnt do japan again sorry if u wer looking for him i wi. l do him seperately <3

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Oh boy. You’re gonna have to be one teaching him about… everything related to periods. He’ll be like “What’s so bad? It’s just like a little scrape, isn’t it?” and by the end of the night he is Mortified by the process menstruating people have to go through. He is never going to downplay your pain again, don’t worry.

But he doesn’t know what to do to take care of you really… that’s his vice. He’ll just end up buying everything he can possibly think of to comfort you, and I mean… it’s something. It’ll dull the pain a little bit to eat an insane amount of chips while he plays with your hair all night.

If your legs go out or you need to go to the hospital during your time of the month, he is fully capable of carrying you wherever you need to go. Speeding laws be damned! When your entire body is trying to kill you from the inside out, you are the most important thing in the world to him.

For a long time, Arthur thought it was… unrefined to talk about things like periods. Of course, now he knows better, but that also means… he has no idea what’s going on down there. Or what it does to the body. So when you tell him about the back pain, the cravings, the light-headedness, the nausea… he is probably gonna be pretty doubting. Until you collapse or throw up on him.  Then he’ll take care of you, hand and foot.

Literally. He loves giving massages, and he’s weirdly good at it. Of course, he’ll get you some pain meds (the good pain meds, too) and snacks, but also his hands are not gonna leave your body until your time of the month is over. 

But until then, he is very concerned. Even if it’s the umpteenth time you’ve been with him through it, he’s still begging you to go to the doctor. Anytime anything does even slightly worse, he’s grabbing his keys, getting ready to speed you to the emergency room.

Francis may sympathize, but he really does not… understand the severity of the situation. When you moan about not getting out of bed, he’s just confused and a little annoyed. Sure, periods are painful, but… you’ve had so many, aren’t you used to it by now? 

Feel free to educate him. Or hit him. Both work.

After that, he’s not making you get out of bed. He may not know your pain, but he is sure as hell not gonna force you to do anything. If your job tries to get you to come in, he’ll even start a strike outside for you <3

And considering that you’re probably his first partner who gets that much pain from your time of the month, he has no idea what to get you. Get him a list, and make sure you tell him not to find healthier alternatives cause otherwise you’re getting gross chocolate that’s supposed to help with pain. He’s trying to help… he’s just weirdly terrible at this specific part.

Don’t worry! He’s had to come up with remedies for this exact problem since before the invention of the wheel! It won’t taste great, but he’ll have you back in shape in no t- wait, why isn’t it working?! What do you mean your boobs hurt more now?!

He’s… really concerned for you the whole time. It’s hard for him to leave your side, even if you insist you’re used to it. I mean, surely this many cold compresses should relieve your… unorthodox pains. Frankly, he’s impressed. How many years have you been going through this? And without him to wait on you, hand and foot?! A shame…

If you need anything, he’ll happily make it for you. Yes, make it. He wants to be sure your care is as perfect as possible, so he only trusts his own hands. But maybe be wary if your legs tend to give out… his old bones are not meant to be carrying anyone around for too long. But of course, he’ll still do his best for you.

The Braginsky family has been cursed for… well, ever… with terrible medical conditions, so he is very familiar with the suffering caused by periods. He’s heard Natalya wail and moan for hours on end, and he is not about to let you go through the same pain! He will rip the radiator out of the wall to use as a heating pad if he has to!

He doesn’t panic as much as the others would, he already knows what you need and had it at home. That means he is not leaving your side for even a second! If you suddenly get new pains, lose feeling in anything, or have any other emergency, he is fully prepared to sweep you off your feet and help you deal with it. And he’s had to do much grosser things than take care of someone he loves, don’t worry about that.

Like you could bleed on his leg and he would not even notice, much less be upset. He’s just like, “Oh, dear, are you running out of anything? I can pick anything up for you if you need.”

OH YOU POOR DARLING! Don’t worry, he already called into work for you! You need snacks? Heated blankets? Medication? Stuffed animals? For him to hold you in his arms? He’s there! No questions asked! (He has quite a low pain tolerance himself, so he is nothing but empathetic towards you during your time of need.)

If it’d make you feel better… he’d love to massage your stomach... Don’t look at him like that! He just wants to help!

Also, if he sees you trying to put on any tight and uncomfortable clothing, he is getting you out of that stuff asap. If you need to go anywhere, he’ll go for you! Don’t stuff yourself into such suddenly ill-fitting clothing… you still look beautiful to him. 

And if it gets too bad, you have the fastest (and most dangerous) driver in all of Italy to get you to the emergency room ASAP. So don’t worry your pretty little head, Feli’s got you!

Just because Ludwig knows all about the medical side of periods, does not mean he knows how to actually deal with you when you’re in horrible, horrible pain. The fact that although it may make you feel better, you are not up for doing anything, is just baffling to him. He may try to drag you out of bed to stretch and exercise. Please bite him when he does so.

Once you start describing your actual symptoms, he starts getting light-headed. No way… this happens every month? Incalculable back pain on top of your uterus exploding? You sure you don’t need a doctor? It’s really no hassle to carry you to the car, promise! But also, you could just take him up on that offer and change your mind and ask for ice cream. He would do it. Just saying.

Anything to relieve your suffering, really. He’s spending all his time worrying about you, so he’ll get anything you want without question. He can’t stand seeing you in so much pain… but he also can’t help but feel so blessed to have been born biologically male. Basically, you’ve got a servant whose in love with you for a week.

[hetalia-club]

Enrichments Enclosures I Would Give The Countries. (No I won't elaborate just vibe with me on this one)

Italy: back to the purgatory island from season 1 Romano: a separate deserted Island away from Italy's Spain: a room with a never ending party but also a quiet area for naps. Germany: a kitchen will all his baking tools Prussia: I would give him a bible, a 20$ bill and turn him loose in a modern day NYC subway and just observe. Japan: zen garden that needs fixed up America: McDonalds Play Place but adult sized & never ending nuggies Canada: a Tim Horton's & they show all his favorite hockey highlights England: Buckingham Palace with his royal family France: wine cellar with every wine he's ever liked Russia: an undisclosed warm little cabin in Siberia China: a Shrine on a mountain top Latvia: his own personal home library Estonia: a toxic COD lobby Lithuania: an empty white room with a chair and a pack of saltines Belarus: padded room & straight jacket Ukraine: a sunny sunflower field that goes for miles. Poland: Claire's room from the movie Clueless Austria: music store where everything is free Hungary: a room with a little window so she can watch Austria in his enclosure also snacks. Finland: a Christmas themed bar with no cut off limit Norway: a sensory deprivation room Sweden: Just an Ikea but he has head phones so he can listen to ABBA whenever he so chooses. Denmark: an indoor trampoline park with people there to clap at his tricks.

[caffeinated-beverage]

HETALIA SMELL HEADCANONS (I worked super hard on this, so pls look at it, appreciate it, and reblog? esp with comments bc i love seeing ur comments ^u^)

N. Italy: Garlic-flavored armpits

Germany: Normally, he just smells like sugar and cinnamon.

Japan: Rainwater

America: Hot dogs and bacon

England: Nosebleeds

Fr*nce: cheese

China: Braised pork belly and warmth

Russia: A mixture of booze and warmth

Canada: Poutine

Belgium: Chocolate chip waffles with a hint of strawberry

Luxembourg: Blackberrie-scented cologne

Netherlands: Money

Austria: Rose-scented perfume

Hungary: Warmth and fresh bread

Liechtenstein: https://www.fragrantica.com/perfume/Sanrio/Hello-Kitty-71771.html

Poland: Cream soda

Prussia: Snow cones

Slovakia: Fresh-baked cheesy bread

Switzerland: Goat milk

Estonia: TV static

Latvia: Hot cocoa & cookies

Lithuania: Lithuania.

Belarus: Mint

Bulgaria: He smeel like he boozin' & loosin'

Moldova: Halloween candies & cheese puffs

Romania: Red-flavored kool-aid

Ukraine: Fresh-baked blueberry bread and warmth

Denmark: Hairgel

Finland: Christmas!!!!!!!!!

Iceland: Hot cocoa & cookies

Norway: Fish-flavored snacks

Sweden: Coffee

Cyprus: Shark.. :/

Greece: Cats

Monaco: Money

Romano: Italian pizza

Spain: Tomatoes & olives

Portugal: Olive oil

Turkey: Roasted turkey

Egypt: Sourdough bread

Cameroon: Fresh-cut grass

Seychelles: the ocean

Hong kong: Mango pudding

Macau: Something sweet

Korea: Milk chocolates

Taiwan: Japanese Cherry Blossom™️

Thailand: Mangoes

Vietnam: Japanese cherry blossom™️

Philippines: A mixture of mangoes and Cucumber Melon™️

Indonesia: Hibiscus and rose hips

Singapore: Strawberries

India: Indian food and warmth ❤️❤️❤️

Australia: Cucumber melon™️ and sea water

New Zealand: Milk chocolates

Cuba: ICE CREAAAM!!!

[somethingclevermahogony]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! What are some common toys in your setting?

Oh this is a long and complicated question but I am too tired to go very in depth, so keeping this one on the shorter side.

Called a ninharut or "Little wheel" in Kishite (Kishite: Nin- little, small, diminutive, hari- wheel). These are small wheeled toys made to look like various animals, monsters, or vehicles (such as a chariot). They are not limited to Kishetal however they do seem to have originated either there or further to the east in Urak. Most of these toys are made either with wood or cheap clay and are subsequently painted. The toys are pulled along on ropes or pushed (think of how you would play with a toy truck). It is not unusual for parents or even the children themselves to make these toys for themselves, though of course it is typically better practice to buy one from one of the city's numerous toymakers (who often double as potters or carpenters).

The most expensive versions of these toys are quite complex and well painted. They may have bells, the heads and necks of the creatures may even be articulated, in the case of chariots the riders might be removable, allowing children to put in different toys are dolls if they so wish. They range in size from roughly the size of an adult person's palm to nearly the size of the child themselves.

A special variety of these "Little wheels" are even equipped with hollow spaces in the back of the toy which act as a chest in which snacks, dice, or other trinkets can be held.

Below is a real world equivalent of this sort of toy from Neolithic Ukraine.

[naggingatlas]

i love that people probably don't realize we (moldova and ukraine) have bob the snail branded fruit snacks and they're like. Prestige fruit snacks too like 15 gr for 50 cents its fuxking insane

[christiansinglebabes]

This genocide has started way before oct 7th, israel is an occupying force that's been oppressing Palestinians for at least 50 years.

The 20% Palestinian population living in israel is subjected to apartheid, police violence and displacement from their homes.

They are not recognized as citizens, the ppl in gaza and the westbank cannot vote in israeli elections despite israel controlling those regions.

Gaza has been under siege for 16 years now. They've been controlling who goes in and out, Palestinians have to ask for permission to leave their cities even if they want to access medical care that isnt provided in gaza due to sanctions by israel.

Why does the financial interest of israel and its ally's trump the right of palestinian freedom? When the money they are making from military technologie is tested on the palestinians? Whats worse is that bombing of gaza has not just taken 33.000 lives, it has also poisoned and destroyed the land that israel claims it has a spiritual right to!

A land already drenched in the blood of thousands of palestinians spilled during and since the inception of israel in 1948. It has poisoned their future and made sure gaza will have to depend on aid for years and maybe even decades to come.

That is why Palestinians need to be able to return to their stolen land and they have a right to return home, even beyond legality israel is an ethno state that guarantees citizenship to -anyone- of the jewish faith even if they have no connection to the land.

What is the point of the UN and EU if we dont use our power to protect human rights everywhere, members of the UN like germany, france, USA and Britain actively funding the bombing of civilians, while claiming solidarity with the victims.

All this talking behind the scenes is doing nothing! Rn netanyahu is pulling back his forces from the south of gaza so they can take a nap, see their families, have a little snack and then go into rafah and kill the remaining 2.2 million Palestinians they told to flee there.

I am ashamed to be paying taxes in germany when that money is used for destruction instead of for the german population and I'm sick of the hypocrisy of western powers who have been exploiting africa and the middle east for decades while simultaneously condemning any and all resistance by the ppl they've oppressed labeling them terrorists.

Is the german state not a terrorist organization? Isnt the USA? Isnt NATO? Why is it that only the people that fight back against their opression with the same violence they've been shown by you are labeled terrorists.

Why was it so easy for you to condemn Russia in its attack on ukraine but you cant condemn israel for this genocide? I can tell you why, because Russia is an enemy and israel is a friend of yours. You only condemn oppressive states when it serves you and when the victims are white.

And while Netanyahu is a tyrant that needs to be dethroned dont be fooled, the issue with Israel is not Netanjahu, racist israeli society is what allowed a monster like him to power. His opposition are zionists just like him that are gleefully watching gaza be turned to dust and are happy to take over once netanyahu steps down, blame only him for the genocide and return to the status quo of opression of the west bank and gaza. 70% of israelis think the military actions taken in gaza are justified and the reason for that is because the only way to rationalize the existence of israel in Palestinian land is by assuming every palestinian is a threat to jewish life, that way no amount of cruelty is unjustified and can be done in self defense.

Why is it so hard to call this a genocide when Israeli officials have clearly stated on multiple occasions that their plan is to eliminate the possiblity of a palestinian state by killing or displacing the Palestinians, idf soldiers are filming snuff films and gleefully parade around womens underwear they stole out of the homes of the dead. How can you support a country like that?

When that support is putting world peace in danger by signaling that all these international laws here to protect us are all just suggestions you can ignore if you have enough money and allies.

U ask us to condemn hamas when u wont condemn the anti-apartheid state of israel, when hamas wouldnt exist without opression of the palestinians by israel.

While u sit in government trying to placate us with useless discussions and pretty words , children are being blown to pieces or left completely orphaned and severely physically and mentally disabled. Do u understand the impact this will have on the palestinian ppl even after this genocide ends? Do u really think they wont grow up hateful and resentful towards Israel? And can u blame them when they do? Now noone is arguing that hamas shouldnt be prosecuted for the human rights violations on oct 7th, however this one sided war on terror that doesnt rightfully classify the acts of western powers and their extensions in the middle east and africa as terror is hypocritical and an insult to our intelligence. This is not an equal struggle between israel and hamas, it is an ethnic cleansing of palestinians.

And to the media and politicians bastardizing the meaning of antisemitism, Criticizing Israel is not antisemitic, and saying that israel and jews are one and the same is what actually promotes antisemitism. Israel is a country and like every country it has to abide by international law,

Israel has been lying to its visitors and citizens since its inception, the jews who come to visit and the jewish israelis have been made to believe by zionists that israel is the only place they can be safe from antisemitism. But that couldnt be further from the truth, by israel declaring itself synonymous with the jewish ppl and their struggle while committing atrocities they are putting the global jewish community at risk and feeds the antisemitic conspiracy theories of a jewish opressive elite. We dont need an ethno state that pretends all jews are homogeneous, what we need is to make sure that jewish ppl are safe worldwide

Europe made this world unsafe for jews, Arabs and jews are not enemies,we are allies, my father grew up in a jewish neighboorhood in morroco and my best friend is jewish, she is my heart and she is my soul and I will not allow israel to drag her name and the name of jews through the mud!

A permanent ceasefire is not an end of what we demand and what the palestinians deserve, it is the bare minimum. And we will not allow the world to quietly reinstate support for israel after this genocide is over, we want an end to apartheid an end to occupation! We want palestinian freedom, from the river to the sea. We want right of return from the river to the sea, and we want a palestine where israelis and Palestinians have equal rights, from the river to the sea!

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

Bsd kindergarden!AU headcanons

Okay okay bsd kindergarden headcanon time!

Tws: mention of abuse

---------------------------------------------------

Fyodor and Nikolai are the new kids from russia and the ukraine. They are basically clued together and can barley speak some words in japanese causing them to never talk with others

Chuuya often gets in trouble for doing reckless things or just punching other kids who made him angry

Chuuya and Dazai are crushing on each other so hard but they wouldn't admit it at first because "crushes are only for girls and girls are ew"

Lovecraft and Bram can be found sleeping literally anywhere. On the floor, in corners, under big pillows, in pillow forts, outside on the playground, in the playground castle, in the sand box, literally anywhere

One time they found Bram asleep in the oven in the kitchen

Sigma is one of the shyer kids and also new.

He is very sensitive and cries a lot

He is also horribly scared very easily which is why the kindergardeners keep some lavender pills around

Sigma loves cookies and always brings a lot with him to kindergarden. Normally he shares everything gladly but nobody is allowed to touch them

Atushi is a sensitive kid too and can understand Sigma very well

They are best friends and Atushi often gives Sigma his own big plush tiger when he cries again

Atushi tries to befriend every single kid

Chuuya gave Dazai a single daisy which he found when they were playing outside once and Dazai blushed so hard that he hid his face behind his big odasaku-man plush

He accepted it nontheless and Chuuya kissed him on the cheek causing Dazai to freeze for good 5 seconds before hugging Chuuya so hard that the shorter yelled that he couldn't breathe anymore

Fyodor always sits around on pillows and reads. Often books which are normally to hard to read and understand for other kids his age and he is usually very quiet and kind of scary for other kids and some kindergardners

Nikolai is the exact opposite of him. He is very cheerful, energetic and affectionate.

He often tackle hugs Fyodor and kisses him all over his face making the other kid giggle (Which is something Fyodor does rarley)

The kindergardeners who speak a bit russian often have to remind Nikolai that he has to be careful with Fyodor because of his anemia

Dazai who thought the new russian and ukrainian kids seemed pretty interesting tried to talk to Fedya but the latter got so scared and overwhelmed that some kid talks to him out of nowhere instead of avoiding him and because he didn't understood what the other one said so he just stared at Dazai making some noises while trying to form a sentence while Nikolai stared at Dazai, seemingly wanting to protect his Fedya from any harm the stranger could cause

Due to this Dazai was salty for quite some time. He only wanted to make friends

Jouno and Tecchou are usally always outside pretending to be policemen

Sometimes they want to arrest other kids who aren't even involved in the play for "illegal activies" so not rarley the kindergardeners have to seperate a crying child who doesn't wants to be arrested and locked in "prision" aka the playhouse and the two "policemen"

Because Jouno is blind, Tecchou usually holds hands with him and leads him or drags him with him

Ranpo is the adoptive son of the director of the kindergarden Fukuzawa and often sneaks into his office to play video games on his game boy, to eat snacks and because "the other kids are all too stupid"

Often he brings Poe and Yosano with him. The only kids besides Dazai which he truly sees as friends

Poe is a kid from amercia and he speaks very broke japanese

Ranpo teased him for this but now they teach each other thier language which Fukuzawa finds adorable

Dazai came from an abusive household which is why he's still completley covered in bandages. He is embaressed of his scars and his eye is still recovering from the physical abuse

Oda and Ango adopted Dazai and whenever they come to pick him up he cheerfully runs to them and attacks them with a big hug

Dazai is a quiet child who rarley talks or cries but sometimes he just feels so sad and struggles with what has happend in that household so he hides on the toilets or the pillow fort and cries

Kunikida, who always claims that he hates Dazai, found him crying on the toilets once, sat with him, comforted him and hugged him close

Since then Dazai is sticking around Kunikida when he isn't clinging to Chuuya or plays with Ranpo

Akutagawa hates Atushi because the sunshine makes him feel things he doesn't like

Akutagawa will protect Gin and will beat up kids who hurt her in any way despite his asthma problem

Nikolai always performs puppet theather shows for Fyodor with his two clown puppets

After he learned how to speak broken japanese he also performed them as "big shows" for the other kids too bc he loves to entertain them

Fyodor always carries a big grey plush rat around with him

He gifts Nikolai, Shibusawa and Sigma plush rats in thier favorite colors too. It's a big sign of affection.

Shibusawa is one of these kids who peacefully craft something, then suddnley say the most creepy and existence questioning shit and then go back to crafting like nothing happend

Kindergardeners are scared of him

Steinbeck plated flowers just for Lovecraft

[unofficial-estonia]

Just decided to look up what's kohuke and turns out it's the cottage cheese like stuff in chocolate thingy we have here in Ukraine, too!

Oh! It’s very beloved snack in all three Baltics so it’s cool to have another thing in common with Ukraine. Truly the best snack

[nachoaveragejoe234]

Since I had to block a bozo who defends the hate of Russian civilians, (redjaybathood), here is proof of anti-Russian sentiment towards civilians, it's not propaganda and you ain't a tankie for calling it out.

OK, so I have to respond. Firstly, my criticism doesn't mean "I think Putin's behaviour is the right thing."

Let me ask you something. Why don't you lame Chinese civilians for their government? Why don't you call them names? Their leader is also a communist who threatens other countries. Why aren't Chinese civilians considered tankies? Why don't North Korean civilians get treated like they're part of the problem? Cherry picking.

Next, you're literally doing what the OP and many other people are calling out. Hating the civilians for existing and living in a dictatorship.

And since you freaked that I didnt send the links even though you can look it up yourself (meaning you're lazy), fine. Here we go. Now let's see if you try to accuse me of lying. This is the sentiment that lead to the Japanese internment camps which everyone agrees were wrong, but I know people would cheer for Russian ones. There's a LOT of Russia-bashing, believe it or not.

And serious actual hate crimes and attacks. All called "propaganda" by bigots.

That's arson if you don't speak German.

If a foreign minister needs to call you out, it's not propaganda.

NOTE: Dubs being put on hiatus, Russian non politial products like snacks and drinks being removed or given WARNINGS in stores, none of that happens to other "evil" countries like China. Selective outrage? I'd say so. And literal paragraphs about hate from the Wiki page.

All of these are civilians who are being treated like shit on the ASSUMPTION that if you're Russian, you must hate peace. Dictators are not the people. People are brainwashed. You don't have the right to judge the peopleof a dictatorship because they aren't born evil, they're taught to obey the dictator. It happened with Hitler. It happened with Stalin. It happened with Mussolini. It happened with Pol Pot. It happened with Milosevic. It happened with Hirohito. It happens with Xi. It happens with Kim Jong Un. Why is it that when it happens with Putin, and ONLY with Putin, are the civilians suddenly just as problematic as the leader? You can't judge an entire nationality based on a select number of people you've seen who agree (or pretend to agree, as many may not actually agree but pretend. If all you view them as is cowards, but you don't hold the same values to other citizens of dictatorships, you are in fact, a BIGOT and it's not problematic or propaganda or false to say so. I made myself very clear. If you still disagree that's your problem and you are a toxic person. Jesus fucking Christ)

Tell me again how being Russian automatically makes you a bad person and how civilians aren't victims just because they are living in a corrupt country. You judge the entire population based on what fringe nationalists and some brainwashed people say. Blanket statements about an entire nationality or race are NOT okay. Peoplewho criticizes this aren't automatically pro-tyranny. Not that you care or believe that.

As a bonus, let's talk about how America and Canada (my country) used to HATE UKRAINE, and they had Ukrainian internment camps.

Your reaction to this should NOT be "I don't think Ukrainians deserve peace". BOTH RUSSIA AND UKRAINE DESERVE PEACE AND TO BE FREE FROM HATE. THE HATE GOES IN ALL DIRECTIONS. THAT'S THE REASON WAR IS A THING. PUTIN NEEDS TO STOP FIGHTING. PEOPLE NEED TO STOP JUDGING CITIZENS OF A DICTATORSHIP FOR BEING FROM A DICTATORSHIP. THE MORE RUSSIANS THAT CALL OUT PUTIN ANY WAY THEY CAN THE BETTER. ALL OF THESE STATEMENTS CAN AND SHOULD CO-EXIST AND I YOU DON'T THINK SO, YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM. "BUT THEIR LEADER!" "BUT I'M UKRAINIAN" "BUT LISTEN TO WHAT PEOPLE SAY" "SHUT UP TANKIE" "ORC/RUZZIAN AREN'T SLURS THEY'RE TRUE". ARE NOT EXCUSES. The orcs and Ruzzians are Putin and his lackeys, not the people who live in said tyrant's cities. Obviously people should help Ukraine, that's absolutely fine. But people should not do or say anything the people above have said. It's pretty easy to find out of touch comments on Twitter and Quora that blanket the entire population as the same "evil commie tankie orc zombies". People calling out this stuff aren't trying to make a competition of "who has it worse" when in fact war harms EVERYONE.

That's all I can say. Don't like this? Then you should really think.

[thesc00p]

PepsiCo's drinks and snacks are reportedly unavailable at some stores due to "unacceptable price increases". Carrefour, one of the largest supermarket chains in France, has refused to sell PepsiCo products across its network of more than 9,000 stores in France, Spain, Italy, and Belgium. The chain has deployed in-store signs blaming "unacceptable price increases" for the move. This marks the latest high-profile spat between European supermarket chains and major grocery producers since the cost of living crisis began in the wake of Russia's war with Ukraine. 

Producers have been forced to charge more for their goods due to surging wholesale costs for energy and many commodities, often resulting in so-called shrinkflation in an attempt to limit the increases. Last year, Carrefour hung signs to warn customers if goods had been cut in size but grown in price. Grocery inflation is running at a higher rate in France than in the UK.

Suppliers to UK supermarkets remain under the scrutiny of a Competition and Markets Investigation. Across the Channel, there have been several attempts by the government to bring the pace of grocery inflation down through negotiations with brands - with limited success. Further talks are due to conclude by the end of this month.

Carrefour's decision not only impacts Pepsi's eponymous soft drink brand but also products such as 7up, Cheetos, and Lay's crisps. Some products are already not available to customers in Paris.

"It doesn't surprise me at all," said shopper Edith Carpentier of the boycott. "I think there will be lots of products left on the shelves because they have become too expensive".

Source: https://news.sky.com/story/pepsi-faces-supermarket-boycott-in-four-european-countries-13042337

[scapegrace74-blog]

Don’t Let Me Fall, Chapter 10

A/N  Here is the penultimate chapter of my Circus AU.  By all rights, it should be two chapters, but I didn’t have the heart to split it in two, which means Chapter 11 will be an epilogue.   

Mild warning for sexual situations, although it stays in the Classy Mature category, rather than the Kinky Explicit one (sorry!)   

Also a trigger warning for mild reference to sexual assault and its aftermath.

For all previous chapters, please see my AO3 page.

Jamie had never been so grateful to see his drab little dorm room in his entire life.  The twenty-four hours of travel from Melbourne to Montreal had been excruciating. His shoulder had twinged.  His wrist, three days post-operation and heavily bandaged, had throbbed.  But more than anything, his heart had ached to be putting half a globe between himself and Claire.

She’d spent every moment she could spare at the hospital, keeping him entertained, keeping him sane as hour followed solitary hour with nothing to do but stare out the window.  When he was wheeled down the corridor for his surgery it was almost a relief, for at least he was going somewhere.  And when he awoke in a nauseous haze in the recovery room, it was Claire’s sunflower eyes that greeted him, warm and concerned.

Doing the complicated mental arithmetic required to know what time it was in Australia, he placed his phone on the counter and dialed with his left hand after turning on the speaker.

“You’re home?”  

Despite the thousands of kilometres that now separated them, Claire’s honey and sandpaper voice eased the tight ball of tension that had taken up residence between his eyes almost instantly.

“Aye, just got in.  How was last night’s show?”

“You mean tonight’s show, Eastern Daylight Time?  It went well.  I don’t know what you said to John, but he’s performing like his very life depends upon it.”

That was actually a fairly close approximation of what he’d said to John.  Not that Jamie ever intended to divulge that detail to Claire.  Their late-night conversation had been equal parts helpful advice and dire warning, and Jamie was gratified to know at least the warnings had been heeded.

“I miss ye already, Tourist,” he confessed.  He’d begun to miss her the moment he’d stepped out of her arms, lips still tingling from their goodbye kiss, and walked through airport security, the newly installed metal plate in his wrist setting off the metal detectors.

“I miss you too.  It’s just not the same without you here.”

A weary sigh was his only response.  This was their first of countless long-distance calls if Claire continued to perform for the circus, and he had no intention of standing in the way of her career.  She’d already lost too many opportunities.  They would have to find a way to make things work.

“Tell me what you’re doing right now,” she interrupted his gloomy thoughts.

“Jes standing in my kitchin, tryin’ tae decide if I’m hungry for breakfast or a late-night snack.”

“Ah, the joys of jetlag,” she laughed, seemingly relieved he’d made a joke.  “Are the dorms busy?”

“Aye, there’s ano’er round of recruits.  Some o’ them must hail from the Ukraine, because the hallway fair reeks of borscht.  Mebbe I should go beg a bowl and be done wi’ cooking.”

“You hate beets!” she laughed.

“I ken, but tis an upside-down world I’m livin’ in right now, Tourist.” He’d meant it in jest, but the words struck true.  A circus performer who couldn’t perform.  A man in love with a woman he’d barely kissed.  A citizen of precisely nowhere.

“It’ll work out, you’ll see,” Claire assured with her usual eerie prescience.  “This tour will be over in a couple months, and we’ll find a way to be together.  I know it.”

“I learned long ago no’ to doubt yer obstinacy.  If ye say it will be so, then I believe ye.”

“Smart man.  Now eat some cereal and get some sleep.  You must be exhausted.”

“Aye.  Stay safe out there, Claire.”

***

Perth, then Auckland, then Wellington.  Night after night, John and I soared through the air to the accompaniment of live music and the audible wonder of the audience.  I still loved the work, still nourished my soul with the crowd’s applause, but it wasn’t the same without Jamie by my side.

A small consolation was watching John come into his own. Whether it was Jamie’s advice, the confidence instilled by finally being the lead on a major show, or simply rising to the occasion, he was a different performer in the weeks since Jamie’s fall.

“Truly, Jamie, what did you say to him?”  We were chatting during our usual mid-afternoon-late-evening phone call, and Jamie had asked after John.  “He was always a competent athlete.  Workmanlike, I would have called him.  Now, he’s…” I hesitated, not wanting to rub salt into Jamie’s literal wounds by extolling John’s virtues as my partner.

“I’m happy to hear it,” Jamie replied without a drop of jealousy. “As for wha’ I told him, I merely spoke tae him in terms he’d appreciate.”

“Such as?”

“Weel, John’s an amateur horticulturalist, ye ken?  I said his job was akin tae the stem, leaves, even the roots of a plant.  Tae be strong and flexible, but no’ tae distract the eye from the centerpiece, the flower, as it were.”

I would never tire of Jamie’s poetic soul, hidden as it was behind solid muscle and an inscrutable expression.

“Have I told you today that I love you?” I asked rhetorically.

“T’day yer time, or mine?” I heard him grin.

“Both.  Either. I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

“And I, you, Tourist.  Come home tae me safely.”

“As quickly as I can,” I promised.

***

The hours between Jamie’s physical therapy session each morning and his evening call with Claire stretched on endlessly.  It was still too slushy to run outdoors, so he put in long hours on the treadmill, listening to podcasts or just daydreaming as the miles slid by.  

Thankfully, his dislocated shoulder had healed well, removing the impediment of a sling and freeing him to resume drawing.  He wasn’t certain why he persisted working on The Lady of Balnain, only that he couldn’t compel himself to stop.  She would come to him in dreams, easing his loneliness. It was always Claire’s face that she wore, gold and ivory, fierce and as stately as a queen.  He often woke from such dreams sticky and rigid with want; another reason to be thankful that he was left-handed.

Wardrobe had never been his forte, so one afternoon Jamie strolled down the hallway to the costume department, hoping to find a designer with enough free time to look over his latest sketches.  More and more he envisioned the Lady as a solo artist, rising from the stones in billows of pearlescent silk.  How this raiment could be cut to still allow articulated movement was something…

“Good afternoon, James.”

He’d been so caught up in his creative musings that he’d failed to notice Gilles Lemieux walking towards him, impeccably dressed in his usual tailored suit.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur Lemieux,” Jamie replied, stepping aside to let the shorter man pass by.  

“How’s the wrist?” the company president inquired, casting a quick glance at the athletic brace Jamie now wore on his right arm.

“Comin’ along.  They say I should regain about ninety percent o’ my full range of movement, wi’ time.”

Gilles Lemieux shook his head sadly.  “It’s a tremendous loss for Cirque des Etoiles, of course, but I’m thankful you weren’t more seriously injured.”

Jamie indicated his thanks and made to leave.  The president was a tremendously busy man.

“Actually, James, I came looking for you.  If you aren’t expected somewhere, could I trouble you to join me in my office?”

As he followed his boss back to the administrative wing, Jamie tried to imagine what was in store for him.  By contract, the circus owed him twelve weeks of rehabilitation, even if there was no chance of him ever returning to the big top.  Perhaps an issue with his work visa status, but that was far below the man’s pay grade.  Jamie settled carefully into the stylish chair facing Lemieux’s desk, politely turning down his offer of a drink.

“Well, I won’t turn about the pot, as we say in French. James, it has come to my attention that you may have been the victim of inappropriate sexual advances by a former member of my staff.”

Jamie sat perfectly still, his heart suddenly a trip hammer in his chest.

“What you chose to divulge about this matter is entirely your business.  I only asked you here today to express my deepest apologies for any harm or mental anguish you might have suffered.  As you are no doubt aware, Cirque des Etoiles has a zero-tolerance policy regarding any kind of sexual harassment.  Once the allegations against Monsieur Marylebone were substantiated earlier this week, he was dismissed without notice.  I understand criminal charges may be brought in at least two of the cases.”

“Two of the..” Jamie felt as though he was drunk.

“Yes, one athlete came forward with proof of Mr. Marylebone offering to exchange career advancement for sexual favours… while on the Tropico tour, as a matter of fact… I can’t say who for reasons of privacy, of course… well, once word got out of the one allegation, a number of other cast members stepped forward as well.  It makes me sick, knowing that this behaviour was going on right beneath my nose.”

Jamie nodded, still reeling from the turn of events.  His leather portfolio of sketches sat heavy against his left thigh.  He took a fortifying breath.

“Have ye replaced Monsieur Marylebone yet, sir?”

Twenty minutes later, Gilles Lemieux was still marveling over his drawings, turning between pages with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“And you’ve never had formal training?” he asked for the second time.

“Nay.  My mam was an artist, so I suppose I learned from her,” Jamie explained.

“This is a remarkable concept, James.  A major departure from the typical Cirque des Etoiles aesthetic. With your permission, I’d like to show these to our directorial staff to get their thoughts.”

Jamie’s stomach, already tight as a drum, sunk into his pelvis. Perhaps seeing his creation brought to life by others was the best he could hope for.

“I’m quite confident they’ll agree with me,” the president continued.  “Yours is exactly the sort of vision we need to keep each new show feeling unique.”

The older man rose from his desk and came around to stand beside Jamie, who had also risen.

“Will yer staff be making a show from my ideas, then?” Jamie asked, still unsure what had just transpired.

Gilles Lemieux laughed.  “Certainement pas.  That will be your job, Monsieur Fraser.  If you’ll accept my offer to become Cirque des Etoiles newest artistic director, that is.”

Jamie’s head spun. His pulse sizzled.  It was his first day at circus school all over again.  He couldn’t wait to tell Claire.

The president extended his left hand for Jamie to shake, a gentlemen’s agreement before working through the particulars.

“I will gladly accept yer offer, Monsieur Lemieux.  On one condition…”

***

“The BAFTAs!  I’d thank ye tae remember yer good friend an’ agent when ye become a household name, Claire. I dinna like tae mention it, but twas I who hauled yer arse off the couch an’ convinced yet tae give this circus thing a try.  An’ now look at ye, rubbing shoulder wi’ the great and good.”

From seven time zones away, I laughed.  No matter the situation, Geillis always seemed to know just what to say. This offer for a select few members of the cast of Tropico to perform at the British film awards in London had come just as we were wrapping up the final stop of our tour in Jakarta. I had been eager to return to Montreal, to finally reunite with Jamie, but the opportunity to perform again in Royal Albert Hall was too great to pass up.  Jamie, bless his unselfish soul, had whole-heartedly agreed.

“Would a pair of tickets to the ceremony be a fitting way to acknowledge your steadfast support?” I dangled, holding the phone away from my ear as the predicted squeal shot down the line.

“I’m proud of ye, Claire,” Geillis said after she had settled down.  “Ye took a shitty situation and ye turned it inta success through yer own hard graft.”

“Well,” I demurred, “I had a lot of help.  I never would have made it without Jamie.”

“Oh, aye.  The ginger demi-god.  How is yer love monkey doin’?”

“He’s well.  The physical therapist is thrilled with his progress. He only has to wear a splint to sleep,” I explained, feeling my skin tingle as it always did when I thought of Jamie.

“Do ye ken wha’ will happen once ye return tae Canada? Besides non-stop acrobatic sex, that is.”

“I don’t know exactly…” I hesitated.

“Wha’?” Geillis prodded, ever a slave to gossip.

“He mentioned he has something he wants to talk to me about but won’t say what it is until we’re face to face.”  

In truth, Jamie had been acting strangely for the past week. Distracted, but not in a way that diminished his obvious pleasure in speaking with me.  The other night he couldn’t stop yawning, which struck me as strange since his only scheduled task was an hour of physical therapy every day. I was trying not to let it worry me, but the extra week spent in London was another week before I could look into his fathomless blue eyes and know that everything was alright.  That we were alright.

“Mebbe he’s plannin’ tae propose!” I could practically hear Geillis bouncing on her toes in excitement.

“That’s ridiculous, Geillis.  We haven’t even… well, you know.”  Not that I would have been averse to the idea, after the chastity of our bizarre courtship, but the man had been hospitalized and without the use of either of his arms the last time we’d been in each other’s company.

“Ye said he was a bit traditional,” Geillis defended her hypothesis. “Perhaps he believes in doin’ things the old-fashioned way.  Holy shite, do ye think he could be a virgin?!”

From the details I knew about his relationship with Anna-Louise, I knew he wasn’t, but I did get the impression he wasn’t particularly experienced either.  Rather than put me off, I found this facet of Jamie tremendously appealing.  I hadn’t been with many partners either, and I loved the idea of us learning the ropes together.

“Well, whatever it is, I won’t find out until I’m back to Montreal,” I diverted.  “I’ll send you the details of where to pick up your tickets.  Rehearsals will have me busy until the ceremony, but let’s plan on getting together the following day, before I fly out.”

After hanging up, I paced around my hotel room, tidying up and getting ready for bed.  The television in the room next door came on and for a foolish millisecond I thought it was Jamie.  Disappointment torpedoed my mood while longing strangled my heart.  

I’d put on a brave front while we were in Australia, but the truth was that I wasn’t certain if I could handle continuing to tour with the circus while Jamie was on the other side of the globe.  I’d only just found the career and the man who were both meant for me, and I might be forced to choose between the two.

***

The cultured applause of the audience died away, and the television cameras shifted focus.  I let out a deep breath, relieved that the abbreviated version of our routine from Tropico had gone off without a hitch.   Beside me, John was glowing with all the radiance of a newly born star. He gave me a quick hug, then wandered off to sit in the audience, eager to absorb every moment of the experience.

I lingered backstage, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the theatre where I had performed as a ballerina countless times before. It felt like another lifetime ago.

“Claire!”  Geillis’ high-pitched squeal was quickly shushed by a disapproving stage manager. Unrepentant, she threw her arms around me and bounced in place.

“Ye were absolutely brilliant!  I fair fell off my chair when the lad was twirling ye above the stage by yer wee ankle.  Oof, I’m still shaking!”

I chuckled as I extricated myself from her surprisingly strong grip.  The laughter died on my lips as I caught sight of a familiar silhouette waiting in the wings, his copper hair catching the stage lights and glowing like fire.

“Jamie.”  The word broke like dawn over my lips.  He smiled, a little hesitant, a little shy.  I blinked to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“Claire.”

Jamie’s mouth hadn’t moved.  I would know, as I’d been staring at it.

“Claire, it’s so wonderful to see you again.”  The voice was familiar, yet foreign.  It held none of the lilting bass of Jamie’s speech as it leapt and meandered like clear water in a rocky stream.            

I looked to my right and saw Frank Randall, a bouquet of white roses held in his arms like an infant.  He thrust these into my numb hands and kissed the air beside my cheeks.

“Fr.. Frank,” I stuttered, looking at Geillis for help.

“I’m sorry I didna warn ye,” she whispered.  “He got wind o’ the fact I had a spare ticket, and wouldna rest until I agreed tae let him accompany me.”

When I glanced again, Jamie’s smile had vanished, replaced with an unfamiliar expression, as though he had tasted something spoiled.  I beseeched him with my eyes, needing just a minute to gather my bearings and sort out this social train wreck.  A dip of his chin let me know he understood.

“Frank,” I tried again, pulling my shoulders back in determination.  “Thank you very much for the flowers.  They’re lovely.  Did you enjoy our performance?”

“Yes, well, it was certainly unusual. Quite bourgeois for the BAFTAs, appealing to the masses and whatnot.”   Then, realizing his comment wasn’t exactly complimentary, he quickly added, “But you were lovely as always, darling.”

By now Geillis had caught sight of Jamie and was grinning like an imp.

“Weeel, we should let Claire see tae her other, errr, adoring fans.  Call me tomorrow about that coffee, hen.  If ye can still walk, that is,” she added sotto voce.

“What?  No!  Claire, come back to be my partner!” Frank cried as Geillis tried to pull him towards the stage door.  “You’re too good for this, this, carnival sideshow.  You belong to the world of ballet!”

Already walking away, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder.

“Not anymore, I don’t.  Thank you again for the flowers, Frank.”

***

Jamie couldn’t get over how beautiful she was.  Had her hair always framed her face like a thundercloud?  Was her skin constantly aglow with the sheen of a hundred pearls?

He’d barely drawn breath during the entirety of her and John’s performance, moved and terrified in equal measure.  Then, when he’s realized they had reversed the routine and that John was about to hold Claire aloft by her injured ankle, he’d nearly been sick.  The joint had held, though.  There was no sign of discomfort at all on Claire’s expressive face. She was healed.

The tentative brush of finger against finger brought him around to the present.

“You’re real,” she whispered. “You’re here.  I thought maybe I was dreaming.”

“Nay, Tourist.  I’m flesh and blood.  See?  I can touch ye now.”

With trembling hands, Jamie reached out to frame her face, tilting her chin upwards into his heavy gaze.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Aye.  I’ve missed ye as well.”

“How?  I mean, what are you doing here?”  A tiny wrinkle of confusion bisected her brow and he rubbed it smooth with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ll tell ye everything, but first, I would very much like to kiss ye.  May I?”

Their mouths met before the sibilant of her acceptance had died on her lips.  This too felt like uncharted bliss, the softness of her kiss, the warm puffs of breath against his cheek, the tiny noises that seemed to travel through her very bones and into his own.  Surely, they had never kissed before if kissing Claire felt like entering paradise. How had he ever managed to let her go?

A smattering of applause, too nearby to be the audience, infiltrated the tiny universe of two they had created. The Tropico stage crew obviously approved of their romance.  Embarrassed, Jamie still gave them a mock bow while Claire hid her face against his bicep.

“Is there somewhere we can go that’s a wee bit more private, Tourist?”

“My hotel is down the street. Just let me grab my coat.”

***

The BAFTAs had put us up in the Mandarin Oriental, a considerable upgrade from the downtown business hotels Cirque des Etoiles tended to favour.  Walking into the lobby with my hand firmly enveloped in Jamie’s, I couldn’t help noticing what a striking figure he cut.  Always handsome and astonishingly fit, he was now imbued with an internal luminance that drew attention to him like a magnet.  His chiseled jawline, smooth from a recent shave, the bronzed waves of his hair, the effortless tailoring of his sport jacket and indigo jeans echoing the depths of his eyes.

Those eyes looked my way, a twinkle of merriment reflecting in their depths.

“Verra fancy lodgings ye’ve got here, Tourist.  Are ye sure ye’ll be willin’ tae return tae the prosaic life of a circus performer?”

Despite the teasing tone, I read the underlying insecurity in Jamie’s question.  Thankfully, it was a fear I could easily and whole-heartedly put to rest.

“It’s like I told Frank, Jamie. The circus is where I belong now. With you.”

He bent towards me, fixated on my mouth before he froze with a grimace.

“Can we gang tae yer room?  I’m tired of sharing ye wi’ an audience.”

I looked around us and sure enough, more than a few curious gazes were turned our way, standing as we were in the middle of the opulent room as guests and staff parted around us.

The elevator ride felt endless. Jamie stood across from me, his still healing fingers tapping morse code against his thigh.  I focused on them, worried that if I met his look we would be mid-coitus by the time the doors opened on my floor.

The discrete snick of a well-oiled bolt sliding home sealed us from the outside world.  I didn’t even bother turning on a light, stepping into Jamie’s open arms instead.  We both released months’ worth of patience and disquiet in simultaneous soughing breaths. Jamie rocked us side to side, probably subconsciously, with the gentle insistence of a redwood in the breeze.

When my heartbeat had calmed and the jangling nerves of the night’s events dissipated, I lifted my chin towards Jamie’s face, asking for his kiss.  To my surprise, he denied me.

“I ken I asked ye tae bring me back tae yer room, and ye may have some idea of us fallin’ into yon bed and ne’er getting out again,” Jamie began.  “And I’m sore tempted tae do jes that.  But first, there are some things I must say tae ye, Claire.”

My stomach went into freefall at his words and his serious tone.  A million possibilities chased around my head, the foremost of which was that he’d had second thoughts about pursuing a relationship with me.  How could I blame him, when I’d had similar doubts?  The logistics were near insoluble.

A warm palm cupped my jaw.

“Nae, no’ that, Tourist.  There isna a doubt in my mind tha’ we belong t’gether, should it still be what ye want.”

“I want,” I replied decisively.  “But how did you…?”

“I can read ye like an open book, Claire,” he explained.

“I’m at a disadvantage, then,” I pouted.

Rather than give way, Jamie insisted I wash up and change out of my costume before our talk.  I considered reapplying some make-up or searching through my luggage for something approximating sexy underwear but settled for a tiny dab of perfume beneath my jaw and leaving my madcap curls loose, a look I suspected he appreciated given the fact he lost words each time I left them that way.

When I returned to the main room, Jamie had shed his jacket and was sitting at the foot of the bed like a pupil sitting an exam.  His look when he saw me washed away any lingering apprehension I held.  Whatever he had to tell me, he was still mine.

I stepped between his knees and rested my hands over his muscled shoulders, waiting for him to speak.

“Gilles Lemieux has offered me a job as artistic director,” he said without fanfare.

“What?  Jamie, that’s incredible!  Congratulations!  Did you show him the sketches?” the words spilled over each other in my excitement.

“No’ at first.  But he approached me the other day, wanting to speak.  It hasna been announced yet, but Clarence Marylebone has been fired.”

If his first piece of news had surprised me, this information sent me spinning.

“Monsieur Lemieux heard Marylebone had propositioned me, offering tae trade sex fer his influence.  Apparently I wasna the only one, and someone finally came forward wi’ proof.  The whole house o’ cards came tumblin’ down.  He may even go tae jail.”

“But how did Lemieux know that you were one of the victims if you didn’t tell him yourself?”

“Only three people kent what that man said tae me: ye, John and myself..”

“Jamie, I never…” I began to insist before he cut me off.

“I ken, Tourist.  And I didna breath a word either.  Sae that leaves John.  I dinna ken whether I want tae hug the man or throttle him fer goin’ behind my back.”

Piece by piece, the facts rearranged themselves in my mind.

“Oh my god, Jamie, I think it was John who brought Marylebone down!”

At his confounded look, I explained how I’d seen John go into Marylebone’s hotel room while the Tropico tour was in Singapore, and how the night of Jamie’s fall, he’d only be willing to divulge that what looked like an ill-advised tryst was ‘making amends’.  With everything else that transpired that night, John’s strange words had mostly slipped my mind.

“Christ, if that’s so, Tourist, I owe John more than I could ever repay.”

“I don’t think he wants repayment, or even credit, Jamie.  He was making reparations for causing you to doubt the sincerity of any woman’s attraction to you.”

Jamie leaned into my sternum and lifted those perfect blue eyes to mine.

“I dinna care if any woman’s attraction is sincere, Tourist.  So long as yers runs true.”

Unable to resist, I kiss his smiling lips, humming with want as they parted beneath me.

“When do you…” a series of moans as our tongues met and danced, “…start your new job?”

“I told… Christ, Tourist, dinna make those wee noises if ye expect a man tae think!” he panted.  For my part, I was totally unrepentant.  He had only himself and his talented mouth to blame, after all.

“I told,” he tried again, “Gilles that I had tae speak wi’ ye first.”

This brought me up short.

“Whatever for?  I’m thrilled for you, Jamie.  It’s what you were working so long for.”

Gathering himself with difficulty, Jamie stood and began to pace.  I’d noticed from the first that movement soothed his nerves.  If the path he was wearing in the Oriental carpet was any indication, he was very nervous.

“When Monsieur Lemieux came across me, I had my sketchbook fer the Lady of Balnain in hand.  Once he’d told me about Marylebone and I’d got over my shock, I showed it tae him.  He wants it produced.  Right away.”

I nodded my understanding but didn’t interrupt.  It would be hard, with both of us working on different shows, but I was determined to make it work.

“I told him I would only accept if ye can tour wi’ me.  I dinna want tae be away from ye anymore than absolutely necessary, Claire.”

“I feel the same way,” I replied immediately, happy we were on the same page.

Jamie stopped pacing and stood in front of me again, his hands holding my own like we were pledging a vow.

“I still believe ye’re the best choice tae be my Lady of Balnain.  But Claire, I canna have ye thinkin’ ye got the role wi’ anything o’her than yer talent. Nor do I want ye tae hear the vicious whispers of those who might say otherwise.  I ken wha’ that’s like, and I dinna want it for ye.  Tis why I told Monsieur Lemieux that I would abstain from any casting decisions where ye were a candidate fer any of my shows.”

My heart could not decide whether it wanted to shrink to a tiny ball of heat or explode into galaxies of love.  I had wanted Jamie as a partner, then as a boyfriend and a lover, but what he was offering was so much more.

“You are the most remarkable man, James Fraser.”  I raised his battered right hand and kissed each knuckle, ending with the fresh red scar over his surgical site.

“Are ye happy, then?” he asked, still sounding unsure.

“Insatiably happy,” I assured him.   “It’s everything I could have wished for.  For you to pursue your passion for creating.  To be by your side.  To perform myself.”

“Ye intend tae try out for my wee show, then?” Jamie asked with a sideways grin.

“Oh, make no mistake, Fraser, I intend to star in your wee show,” I retorted, breaking contact to bend and remove my socks. “I’ll look into it as soon as we’re back in Montreal.”

“What are ye doin’?” Jamie asked, a bit breathless, as my hands drifted to my waistband.

“We’re finished talking,” I pronounced, unbuttoning my pants.

“Oh, aye?” Jamie choked out, eyes round as Delft saucers.

“Aye,” I whispered back, stepping out of my pants as they hit the floor.

The blue in Jamie’s pupils was on the ebb, the muscles of his throat constricting as he tried to swallow around a visible lump.   Speaking of visible lumps…

“Don’t you think you’re a little over-dressed for bed, Jamie,” I husked.  I wasn’t certain where my sudden bravado had arisen from, but I was more than happy to take it for a spin.

“For bed?  Or for sleep?” Jamie clarified, obviously still disbelieving the quick turn events had taken.

“I’m sure we’ll sleep. Eventually.”  

***

Claire was reaching for the hem of her t-shirt.  A slow, lazy blink and Jamie sprang into action.

“I’ll see tae that, if ye dinna mind.”

Not as dexterous as he would like, he was still able to maneuver the white cotton upwards until it caught beneath Claire’s armpits.  She took over from there, tossing the garment into the air over her shoulder with a laugh. He was charmed by her playfulness, so different from any of his previous amorous encounters.

Any light-heartedness evaporated as soon as his focus returned to the woman before him.  She was startlingly beautiful, with clotted cream skin generously sprinkled with cinnamon freckles and feline eyes that spoke the secrets of her soul.  Tempestuous curls spilled in a sable cascade over her shoulders.  In fact, most things about Claire reminded him of water: the fluidity of her movement, the soothing murmur of her speech, the sinuous long lines of her body.  Everything except those eyes, that warmed his very heart like fire.

“Ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve e’er seen,” he pledged, startled by the raspy depths of his own voice.

“I want to look at you too, Jamie.”

Cursing the stiffness of his right hand, Jamie was entirely focused on the fastening of his jeans when Claire’s nimbler hands took over and made quick work of the button and zipper.  As the pants slid from his hips, he could no longer rein in the urge to kiss her senseless.

Jamie would never suggest he had some vast experience of woman, but he’d kissed more than a handful in his day. In every one of those situations, he’d never had cause to consider the raw intimacy of the act.  Caressing hyper-sensitive flesh, sharing breath, inviting a lover into the sanctuary of oneself; as he welcomed Claire’s tongue beside his own, Jamie imagined what it might be like for a woman to accept a man inside her body.

Impatient to the point of roughness, Claire’s fingers tore down the placket of his shirt, pushing the material aside to pair her hands to the furrows of his ribs.  Kissing him like they’d come to the end of a very long war, a frustrated hum still vibrated in her throat.

“Wha’ is it?” he gasped as they parted for oxygen.

“I just… I can’t get enough of you, Jamie.  I want to crawl inside you and never leave.”

A startled laugh burst forth.  “Christ, Tourist, do ye think I mind?!”

With more caution than he would have preferred, Jamie lifted Claire’s underwear-clad form onto the massive bed. She followed his movements with a predatory gaze as he shed his shirt.  He hovered over the waistband of his boxer-briefs, momentarily self-conscious. As someone who had made his living with his body, Jamie knew he was well-formed in an athletic sense.  Yet there was some vestigial part of his brain that worried he wouldn’t measure up to whatever expectations she had of him.

Inhaling through his nose, Jamie pushed the elastic over his hips, trusting that even if Claire was dissatisfied, she would never be so cruel as to laugh.  His eyes were closed, awaiting judgement.  When no sound came, he peered down towards the bed.

Plump coral lips were parted so that he could see her bottom teeth.  The pace of her breathing had accelerated until her breasts, still encased in her pretty lavender bra, were rising and falling as though riding a choppy sea.

“I’m not particularly religious,” she began, still not meeting his eyes yet knowing they were on her, “but if ever there were proof of the hand of god at work, you’re it, Jamie.”

He blushed, flattered and perhaps a touch scandalized by her casual blasphemy.

“Come to me,” Claire commanded, arms outstretched, and like the loyal supplicant he was, he obeyed.

***

I’d spent countless hours being held in Jamie’s arms while both of us were next to naked.  What transpired on the eleventh floor of the Mandarin Oriental hotel that night was nothing like that.   Jamie as an aerials partner was solidity and strength.  His hands were firm and certain, but utterly business-like.   Jamie as a lover was like sharing a bed with an earthquake, all devastating power that trembled and shook, mere moments away from bursting forth with cataclysmic force.

I was so overcome by being with him in this new way that it took several minutes for me to realize the tremors that ran rampant up and down his body were not merely passion held in tight control. He was shaking like a leaf.

“Why are you trembling?” I asked as he kissed the span of my collar bones, nose nudging experimentally at my bra straps.

“I dinna ken,” he mumbled before separating his lips from my skin reluctantly.  “Tis jes’… things, good things, dinna come easily tae me.  I wouldna call my life a perpetual struggle, but perpetual effort, mebbe?  I’m a Scot, and that means hard work is the only virtue guaranteed its reward.”

I played with the contours of his cheekbone where it rested by my side, letting him find the path to his thoughts in his own time.

“It’s been sae easy wi’ ye, Claire,” he continued after a pause.  “Our work, bein’ yer friend, this…” he gestured to the pairing of our bodies.  “I suppose I dinna ken how tae believe it’s real when I’ve wanted it sae badly and done nothin’ tae deserve it.”

“I’ll stop you right there,” I interrupted.  “First of all, no-one deserves to be loved.  It’s a gift freely given.  But if anyone were to be deemed deserving, it would be you, Jamie.  Your kindness and gentleness.  Your generosity and self-sacrifice.  Your passion and creativity.  I probably walked off that practice mat the day we met half in love with you, and nothing you’ve said or done since then has diminished my regard in the slightest.”

Watching this man who I claimed as my own purse his lips and blush to the tips of his ears was an unexpected treat. I reminded myself that for all his size and ability, Jamie was still relatively new to relationships, especially healthy ones without any ulterior motives at play.  He would likely need a certain amount of guidance and reassurance, and it would be my very great pleasure to provide them.

“I can’t promise it will always be easy,” I said, reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra.  “But I can promise it will always be worth the effort. We were made for each other, Jamie.”

As I removed the last vestiges of clothing, the sonata of our lovemaking picked up pace and moved into a major key. Using his forearm to prop up his body weight on his bad side, Jamie took full advantage of his left-handedness to explore every hill and vale of my skin. Featherlight, his touch was a stark contrast to the long bones and heavy muscles that slid into the cradle of my hips and began a questing, eager pulse.   Already aroused to the point of gnashing my teeth, I keened as our bodies rubbed together, providing just enough friction to invite delirium.

“I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe,” Jamie panted near my ear.  My hands were conveying much the same message as they polished the contours of his torso from shoulder to powerful buttocks.

“Condom?” I gasped, praying that he’d thought about protection because there was no way we were stopping now.

A long arm reached for the night table while his mouth continued to do unspeakable things to my neck, earlobes, nipples.

Knowing he was temporarily handicapped, I grabbed the foil package from him and tore it open with my teeth. Before I rolled the condom into place, I dragged my free hand down the length and heft of him, pausing at the base to cup his heavy balls.  Above me, Jamie went cross-eyed with pleasure.

“Please, Tourist,” he begged.  “I dinna want this tae end wi’ me spending all o’er yer wee tummy.”

That didn’t sound like a terrible calamity, but I took pity on the poor man and slipped the rubber into place. No sooner had my grip loosened than Jamie’s good hand took its place, guiding himself into position and making a few exploratory passes that saw me seeing stars.

“Tell me I can have ye now,” he demanded around an iron jaw.

“You can have me forever.”

His first thrust sent me skyward. My hips canted up to meet his descending force, causing a collision that had us both crying out.  Slick and hungry, my body protested any movement that threatened the feeling of indescribable fullness he brought to me. My neck and spine were curved like a well-strung bow, my partner the musician who could make me sing.  And sing I did, over and over again until my throat was sore with it.  In the pause between retreat and advance, Jamie made music of his own, a medley of broken groans and fluent curses that told me he was savouring the experience as much as I was.

The tension between wanting our bliss to last forever and the primal urge for completion built until I was being torn apart by its force.  Soon, all too soon, it became more than I could bear.  There was only one thing standing between me and soul-rending release. Grasping Jamie’s jaw in both hands, I pushed him back until I could see the madness dancing in his eyes.  He was on the edge of falling as well.

“I love you,” I vowed.  “I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

My words untethered the last of his control.  Hips pistoning out of rhythm, lips parting on a feral snarl, Jamie was sent flying by my words, the simplest and most profound truth there was.  

This time, I did not hesitate to fling myself into the abyss after him.