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petermorwood · 2 months

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Is "Uh, nope" a frequent US response to lamb?

Or is US lamb somehow different?

This is just a vaguely mystified response to some comments here.

I'm guessing the "G-word" is gamey. I've smelt gamey meat, I don't like it, and Irish lamb definitely isn't that. Also, most people I know don't need to screw up their courage before cooking or eating it.

Mutton, mature sheep-meat, has - or so I've been told, because I've never found it in any local butcher - a much fuller flavour, still not gamey, but more ... robust, pronounced, emphatic, choose your descriptor. It is, after all, a more mature meat.

For terminology reference (though this may not be current any more), "lamb" is up to one year old, "hogget" - remember the farmer's name in "Babe"? - is up to two years old, and "mutton" is over two years.

*****

As I said, I haven't seen mutton anywhere, and haven't HEARD of hogget.

This might be, as I hinted, because terminology has been simplified and all meat from sheep is now "lamb" - and that may answer my own question. Sometimes US lamb has a fuller flavour than, say, Wicklow lamb in Ireland, because sometimes US lamb is hogget or mutton instead.

If so, it restores a possible original meaning to "mutton dressed as lamb". That's now best known as "an older woman dressed inappropriately young", and though the meaning has been around for a long time (this Rowlandson print is dated 1810)...

..."dressing" is also the term for preparing meat for sale.

And THAT makes me wonder if the critical phrase goes beyond fashion into the fine old tradition of adulterating food, and wily butchers transforming elderly sheep into the semblance of younger lamb then charging undiscerning customers accordingly.

I don't know how they might have done it, but if they could then they would. The ways in which 18th-19th century foods were fiddled with is amazing, and more than a bit Yuck.

Or in this case, Ew.

Comments, corrections, criticisms and all the rest are cordially invited.

:->

*****

Side-note; in keeping with the way nicknames get attached to surnames - "Chalky" White, "Dusty" Miller etc. - anyone called Curry usually ended up as "Mutton".

Two brothers at my school had this happen; Tom Curry, the older one, had been "Mutton" for a couple of years, and when his kid brother Will started school he became, of course, "Lamb".

Oh, how we laffed...

*****

ETA: @bellyoftheblast just messaged me this:

It turns out, and I only learned this very recently (I think it's in Hannah Glasse) that "dressed" used to mean "cooked" rather than "prepared for sale". Which would mean "mutton dressed as lamb" would be fast-cooked and thus greasy, unpleasantly tough and decidedly stringy. (Meanwhile I'll never waste good lamb on stew again now that I have a source for mutton -- MUCH better flavour for slow cooking).

Thanks for this snippet! We've got the Prospect Books facsimile of Hannah Glasse 1st ed, so I pulled it down, blew off the dust - it's been a while - and yes indeed, I found the following recipes in just four successive pages:

"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton à la Royale",

"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton to eat like Veniſon",

"To dreſs Mutton the Turkiſh Way"

"To dreſs Veal à la Bourgoiſe"

Mutton dressed (or dreſsed) as Lamb doesn't get mentioned, probably because Mistress Glasse knew better, though that business of Mutton to eat (taste) like Venison is interesting.

It involves cutting the leg of mutton "in the shape of a Haunch of Veniſon" then steeping it in the sheep's blood "for five or six Hours" before wrapping it in layers of buttered paper and roasting it, basted frequently with butter or beef dripping.

Not quite mutton as lamb, but still mutton disguised as something more expensive...

#food and drink #lamb #mutton #strong flavours #robust #gamey #nicknames

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raposarealm · 2 years

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I present to all of you:

A bad omen.

#alternative title: me realizing that this event's the last one before anni #but yeah open eyes mahajarma is cursed #yes i watched more of stream tonight #i'm almost done with the season i have like 10 episodes left holy shite #context here being wily showing up at maha ichiban out of the blue and scaring the shite out of his former henchmen #apparently mahajarma spooks the easiest #didn't take many screencaps tonight because i was too busy yelling about how eclipses and communication satellites work #i refuse to let my grandfather be disgraced like this #anyways #exe mahajarma #rapo watches stream

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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months

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⁙ ensnared

No matter what the world says, no matter what the world believes in, Gojo is nothing but a puny fly to the wily spider that you are. Flying headfirst into the gossamer web your skilled fingers have spun, time after time after time— The silk threads, perfectly tailored. Just for him.

▸ Gojo x Wife!Reader; Tooth-Rotting Domestic Fluff; Very Very Suggestive Themes; Nudity; Mentions of Food & A Plant Dying; Gojo calls his wife 'cookie'; Everything is fair in love and war ;) [This Fic's Rated Mature -> MDNI!!! ^_^]

▸ This is for you, Dilay! *MWAH MWAH MWAH* @roseqzpd

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

One:

Sweet dishes, regular intake of which will put anyone into a hyperglycemic crisis. [Good thing, he isn't just 'anyone'.]

And the other one:

You. His wife. His sweet, sweet, sweetest wife, who's currently peering up at him from his lap, wrapped in nothing except a way too tiny bath towel— however– he instructs himself the nth time since you emerged from the bathroom– you are a temptation he refuses to cave in to... just for now.

Strangely cognizant of his mind [like you are, more often than not], Gojo watches you intently stare at his lips for a full two seconds. Then repeat the request you made less than thrice today, but your husband already feels his defenses crumbling.

"'Toruuu," you whine, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing closer, "Won't you help your wife choose a pretty outfit for today's get-together? I'm so confused... You want your wife to look the best among all the ladies there– tell me, don't you?"

"'Course, I do, cookie!" he exclaims, indignant as to how you could ever think anything otherwise— before a sudden ping! from his laptop sends him careening to the ground like a deflated balloon.

The poor man sighs. "But there's still so much work left to be done–"

"– which you can always complete once you've helped me, 'Toru," you cut him off with a pout, that slowly gathers a playful tinge as you ask, "Why are you behaving like this, though? Usually, you jump at the faintest chance to get out of paperwork. But now..."

Eyes growing comically wide, your voice sinks to a conspiratorial whisper. So worried, so cute. "Did anyone threaten to leak where your secret sweets stash is, 'Toru? If you– you know– submit these reports too late like always, eh?"

The only response your husband manages to eke out for your query is a very strained chuckle... 'cause, yeah, that's right.

Nanami promised to do exactly that– telling his very dear but having-black holes-for-stomachs students where his foreign sweets are stored– besides telling you how the white-haired man hogged ten chocolates one day despite his allowed daily two– and how your favourite star cactus didn't die from age but from him overwatering it, that week you were on a mission in France two months back– should he submit anything late ever again... But, no, wait.

You were on a foreign trip when he was given this ultimatum, and returned only last night. And Nanami promised to not tell you these yet– at least, not any time before that damned deadline's over. So, how...

"'Toruuu," Your petulant self, very adorably so, draws him away from his musings. And Gojo swears, if he wasn't losing before, he certainly is now. Your watery eyes, lower lip jutted out just the right amount and your nails leaving a delicious trail on his undercut— they've always been too strong for the world's strongest sorcerer.

Groaning, he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. And darts his eyes to bore into yours lest they travel to your soft skin peek– NO, DON'T GO THERE. NOT NOW. PLEASE.

He huffs. "Okay, fine."

You open your mouth, probably to screech in delight, but your husband shushes you with a finger to your lips. He continues, shifting his tone to a graver timbre, "But only to help you choose your outfit– nothing else."

Lips curving into a wide smile behind his finger, your eyes gleam in terribly concealed delight. He has to actively stop himself from kissing you right then and there— there are still three mission reports left to be filed.

"And if I catch you trying to change the stream to anything else," he warns. You nestle closer into him, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at him in silent wait. A chuckle [which sounds more embarrasingly choked than anything] leaves him.

Features shifting into something brighter than a supernova, you push his finger away. And giggling, say, "You won't go easy on me— right, 'Toru?"

[In hindsight, though, Gojo thinks he should have recognised this plan to be yours.

From the way you step out the bathroom, not in your usual bathrobe but a towel... To the way you beg him to help decide your dress, in spite of knowing well how he leans towards only white or light blue choices... To the way your towel– pretty conveniently and accidentally, of course– slips lower not even ten minutes into the task...

To the soft 'Oops!' you exhale but make no move to cover your exposed chest, a mute thrill clear in the curve on your lips as you watch him watch, drink in, mentally devour the delectable sight before— your ever-present coyness nowhere to be found even as he strips you, nothing hiding you anymore from his starving gaze...

To the smug smile you're offering him now, the next day, after he's been thoroughly chewed out by Yaga for submitting his work a whopping four hours late...

Your wicked, brilliant, bewitching eyes go from him, to the mountain of empty candy wrappers on the centre table, to the empty pot of soil on the windowsill– the one that had your annoying, attention-hogging desert plant– then return to him.

A shudder runs down his spine— which doesn't take long to transform into a shiver of excitement. And a very, very warm burst of fondness right in the middle of his chest.

The man shakes his head with a laugh, 'cause—

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

And he'll be a fool, if he is to mess with the second– and more important of the two–

You.

His sweet, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest sweet dish, but startlingly sharp wife.]

[Also, no joke, but isn't your 'Toru insanely in love with you, even more for that?]

Gojo, some time later: My cookie is sooo smart– did ya know that, Nanamin? Hehe. Nanami: Why TF do you always hide in my office every time your wife is mad at you?

▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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scripted-downfall · 7 months

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I swear, with every danmei book I read, the protagonist gets ever more oblivious. I mean, I started out with Wei WuXian of all people, sitting there not knowing that he's pining over his best-bro-bestie (who's also pining over him) until he decides ya know what? marriage bow time! Because that is a completely logical progression!

But then! There's Xie Lian! Who has a mfing Calamity-level ghost pining over him for 800 years --- casually building elaborate temples for his celebrity crush while said disaster god burns down his house --- and who makes out with Hua Cheng "fOr SpIriTuAl PoWeR" on the regular, and who regularly runs across strange characters with one eye covered, a strange red-based colour scheme, and a strange devotion to him, only to run into a certain strange one-eye-covered, red-schemed, devoted Ghost King... and who not only doesn't connect the red-coloured dots, but also comes to the completely sensical conclusion that see how well I can resist the wily temptations of *women*? clearly, the only reason I can't resist the wily temptation that is Hua Cheng is that Guoshi never considered that hot men exist! and also regularly tries "not to bother him" while the latter is vibing --- in the literally vibrating sense --- in Paradise Manor waiting for gege to ask him for help.

AND THEN. Because that! Wasn't! Enough! There's fucking SHEN QINGQIU. (I'm finally reading SVSSS! I finished book 3 and am tracking down 4 now!) Who spends three fricking books simping after Binghe like there's no tomorrow (which, to be fair, he doesn't think there is) because oh holy shit, he's such a white lotus, look at how pure and handsome and powerful, oh god oh fuck, yes he's going to kill me but at least I have the honour of being killed by The Luo Binghe, I'm so lucky, holy shit, wait why isn't he putting together a harem of women?!?!? he's plenty hot and powerful and badass enough??!?!?! and also insists to the very end that oh, no, sir, I'm completely straight. As a ruler. I invented rulers, actually. Because of how straight I am.

AND THEN!! IT SOMEHOW GOT WORSE?!?!? Because I made the mistake of starting The Husky and His White Cat Shizun. And Mo Ran is... well, he puts the "moron" into his name, that's for damn sure. I mean, at least he knows he's into guys from the beginning, but like. My guy. You cannot sit here and say "Obviously, Chu Wanning and I shared a deeply intense hatred" and then wax poetic about how hot and elegant and calm and composed he is for two paragraphs with any degree of credibility At All.

(I'm Thriving. Never before have I had four fixations unlocked at once. My sanity is struggling, but my mind is buzzing and the world is fast.)

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #rzfzx #svsss #scum villian self saving system #shen qingqiu #erha #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun #mo ran

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wily-art · 2 years

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Sometimes you play a monster of the week campaign and make your character a spooky grandma :U

#art #sketches #artists on tumblr #monster of the week #character design #arts #hi i'm wily #and when i make characters for table tops its birds with anxiety and spoopy memaws #long post #snake #snek #a snoodle

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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Big orc with a small mate who is just so small and fragile they just cry sometimes scared they'll hurt them

This is a little on the darker side, but I hope it is a bit of schadenfreude.

General Plot: You meet and befriend an orc who has a penchant for finding tall bridges.

Orc (Orion) x female reader

also, just a note, when I say "small" in this I'm saying as compared to an orc, not any particular body size or shape

Word Count: just under 3k

W: as brief as i could while still getting the message across descriptions of sa and suicide, otherwise sfw soft yandere behavior

“Damn,” Orion’s friend and coworker Joss whistled, peering across the shitty dive bar they were posted in, “don’t think I’ve seen a prettier sight in my life.”

Orion’s eyes flickered from his drink to where Joss was looking, a table of women, your heads huddled together as you worked on your answers for the trivia game you were playing.

“I got it!” you shouted at the guy running the game, “the answer is Oregon!”

Orion gulped on his drink and it went down like a lump of lead in his stomach. You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, your eyes glowing and your cheeks warm from smiling. The women around you were all beautiful in different ways, but his eyes focused on you and he couldn’t look away. You were so small. It almost made his eyes prickle as he considered how you could possibly survive in this world being so delicate.

As a mercenary Orion knew the darkest dregs of the world. He’d seen pretty, innocent things like you broken and bloody in the snow when his team had arrived too late. It broke his heart every time and looking at you…something in him was moved.

“Let’s buy the ladies some drinks,” Joss grinned, already turning to the bartender to organize a pitcher of margaritas for your table.

You glanced up at the waiter as he carried an armful of drinks over to you and your friends. You’d never done trivia before and you didn’t go to bars, but they’d convinced you to get out of the house for once and join them. So far it had been fun, though as the waiter spread the drinks out in front of you and your friends you frowned.

“No thanks,” you said politely, pushing the glass back across the table when he got to you, “don’t drink.”

The waiter smiled, scooping up the cup before gesturing to the two orcs sitting at the bar.

“Compliments of the gentlemen,” he explained and the rest of your friends raised their drinks and smiled at the handsome orcs.

They were obviously military of some kind. You could tell not because they were dressed in fatigues, but because the hair that was traditionally worn longs for orcs was instead cropped close to their heads.

The larger one seemed to be looking at you and you held up your soda and tipped it at him with a friendly smile, before turning your attention back to the game. For some reason you didn’t want him to think you didn’t appreciate his attempt at a gift, but this was why you didn’t go to bars. Everyone was trying to ply everyone else into sex with alcohol. It just wasn’t your scene anymore. You didn’t do hookups and you didn’t drink, so…what was the point? Trivia, was your best friend's answer.

“I’ve got the brunette with the curls,” Joss said to Orion as he smirked at your table.

Your friends were eating up the orcs' attention, casting them wily smiles and flipping their hair. You didn’t blame them. They were good looking, with large, shining tusks and bodies any human body builder would kill for. The larger one had an arm full of tattoos peeking out from the tight black shirt he was wearing.

For your part, you huddled down into the hoodie you were wearing and took a sip of your soda. It wasn’t like the orcs were flirting with you anyway. They were probably looking at Emily, who had long blonde hair, or Tina, who had dark flawless skin and tight, shining curls.

You didn’t notice Orion’s gaze focusing solely on you.

“She doesn’t like margaritas?” he asked the bartender, nervously, when he returned with your empty glass.

“Doesn’t drink,” he murmured, already moving on to his next customer.

That comforted him a little. At least you weren’t going to be wandering drunk through the streets on your way home, but the idea of you walking home all by yourself bit at him. Orion was feeling things he’d never felt before and he didn’t even know your name.

He was a mercenary. He wasn’t a kind, warm orc; never had been. He was good at killing. Very, very good at killing and that’s what his life consisted of, death, blood, and lonely cold nights camping out waiting for orders.

He had his fun with girls he ran into in the odd cities he found himself in. They had a way of finding military men with money, but he’d never had a girlfriend or any sort of real connection. He’d never expected to live long enough for it to matter…but there you were. You weren’t all made up like the other girls, dressed in a bulky hoodie that swallowed you, with your hair brushed away from your face. Yet, you were the most beautiful one sitting there, chewing your lip and wrinkling your brow as you tried to think up answers.

“Come on,” Joss said to him, throwing back the rest of his beer, “I think the game is ending.”

The winners were announced (not your team) and you were trying to figure out how to slide past your drunk friends to escape home when the orcs approached your table.

“Evening ladies,” the shorter one said, flexing his biceps as he scraped his thick fingertips through his short hair to the delight of your friends.

“Excuse me,” you murmured, wiggling past your starry eyed friends and almost completely ignoring the orcs.

You bid them all goodnight, but they are busy batting their eyelashes and circling their fingers around the mouths of their glasses. Best leave them to it, you thought as you made your way to the front door, not noticing the taller orc abandoning his friend to follow you out.

Orion didn’t have a plan. He’d never stalked a woman before, but there he was, using his combat skills to make his huge form disappear in the urban environment.

He got more and more uneasy as you left the nice part of town and turned on to a dark street. A siren blared, startling him for a second as a cop car flew past and he almost lost track of you before he caught sight of you again fidgeting with the loop of keys in your hand and stuffing one into the door of the first floor apartment you lived in.

Orion frowned, sneaking as quietly as he could up to your side window. Your home was incredibly insecure, he noted. With his strength he could easily pop the rusted bars over your windows out to get to you and your door was a laughable piece of plywood.

His eyes watered again imagining your pretty face twisted in fear from some unknown attacker. He had to stop for a moment to take a breath and gather himself. Feelings he’d never felt before were bubbling up in his stomach like a witch’s cauldron, but standing outside of your house like a creeper, he had no idea how to approach you.

He ended up keeping vigil outside of your house all night and woke from a shallow doze when you started moving around inside. Peeking through your window he could see you smoothing your hair dressed only in your panties and a little t-shirt that rode up on your waist. Compared to him, you were just so incredibly small! It still confounded him that you could survive in this awful neighborhood and not be harassed daily.

Since it was the weekend and you weren’t hung over like your friends, you went about your morning routine and donned your usual hoodie to hit up your favorite coffee shop. An iced latte was the perfect way to start a Saturday.

In the light of day, Orion hung back as he followed you down the street, waiting a few moments before he entered the coffee shop after you.

The shop was busy, but there was a loveseat open and after getting your latte you took a seat on one side to drink it.

“Mind if I sit here?” Orion asked, after he’d gotten his own coffee.

You smiled up at his looming figure and scooted a bit to the side so there was plenty of room for him.

“You look familiar,” you mentioned, making light conversation as you sipped your drink.

The orc gave you a small smile.

“Name's Orion,” he said, pleased to have a reason to talk to you, “I think I saw you last night at the bar…you were with your friends…but you don’t drink…”

You giggled.

“Oh yeah, they dragged me out to that,” you said with a grin, “they think I’m a hopeless homebody because I don’t like to get drunk. I’m (Y/N).”

He smiled back at you, taking in your pretty twinkling eyes and soft looking skin. He had to hold back his tears as he looked down at you, so little in the seat next to him and tucked cutely in your big hoodie. He wondered what you would look like dressed in his t-shirt and wondered how he could possibly hold you without hurting you with his big hands.

“That’s not a bad quality to h-” he started to say, but was interrupted by a slightly nasally voice trying to get your attention.

You winced as you looked up to find one of the last people you wanted to see and part of the reason you didn’t drink hanging over you. Dane, a man you’d met once at a bar was holding a coffee with his other hand stuck in his pocket.

“(Y/N)!” he said grinning, “Great to see you! I’m surprised I didn’t hear from you after all the fun we had last time…did I put my number in your phone wrong or something?”

He reached down to snatch your phone out of your hand, as if he were going to check it.

You winced and shrank back.

The reason you didn’t drink was the last time you went to a bar you might have had a bit too much and Dane offered to take you home. Though his idea of “take you home” meant assault you while you were too drunk to fight back and then leave you crying on your couch with a text in the morning that said, “had fun last night, can’t wait to do it again.”

Of course, you hadn’t told anyone as you probably should have. You were too embarrassed and ashamed, so instead you tried to shake the experience away and swore to yourself you’d never drink again.

To your surprise, however, before Dane could reach your phone, Orion’s hand intercepted his. He could see by looking at you, you were uncomfortable and though he couldn’t possibly have known what happened, he didn’t like the man.

“Hi,” he said, scooping up Dane’s hand into a tight handshake, “I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend Orion, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Dane sneered and looked Orion up and down. The look on his face said he didn’t take the orc seriously.

“Boyfriend?” he laughed, “that must be new…(Y/N) and I had a good time just a couple of weeks ago, didn’t we?”

He turned his attention to you, but your eyes were filling with tears, stressed and embarrassed that he would even say something like that after what he did. You would not describe it as “a good time.” Orion growled and squeezed Dane’s hand until the bones popped, wiping the smile from his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?! You’re going to break my hand!” Dane howled, causing the whole restaurant to look at the scene he was causing.

Fire flooded your cheeks and you tried to make an escape, pushing past Orion, but in another surprising move, he dropped Dane’s hand and put his arm around you. In any other circumstance, you would have been a little frightened, but at that moment a warm hug was just what you needed and you leaned into him without thinking.

“Let’s get out of here, (Y/N),” he said, giving you a gentle smile, before giving Dane a pointed look, “this place is starting to smell like trash.”

He hustled you out of the building and led you to a small park where there were some cozy benches tucked amongst the trees. Spaced out from your encounter, you let his strength lead you without a fuss.

He sat you down and you just sat in silence for a few minutes coming back to your senses. Orion had seen enough victims of assault in his line of work to know what the look on your face meant, so he gave you a little space to collect yourself before speaking.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to…but I’m a good listener if you do,” he said quietly, brushing a loose hair out of your face.

You looked so small and helpless in front of him and he focused all of his will into not scooping you up and carrying you off, keeping you locked up so tight no one could ever get to you again. He could snap you like a twig with just a flick of his wrist, no wonder some horrible man thought he could take advantage of you.

Without meaning to you let out a sob and the whole story came spilling out. It took all of Orion’s mental fortitude not to respond with anger. That wasn’t what you needed right then. Instead, he pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and rubbed soothing circles on your back while you cried.

Despite his fear of smooshing you, he managed to squeeze you just gently enough to reassure you without hurting you.

“This wasn’t your fault,” he said, realizing why you didn’t drink, “men can be disgusting. No one should take advantage of someone while they are intoxicated…it’s just sick.”

After you’d had a good cry, you exchanged numbers and Orion walked you home promising you everything would be okay. Even though you weren’t sure you quite believed him, something about him felt safe so you let yourself feel comforted and spent the rest of the day resting in your pajamas trying to keep your mind off of it.

That only worked for a day, because the next morning as you were flipping channels you saw a familiar face on the television. It was Orion. He was being interviewed by a news reporter. You hurriedly turned the volume up to hear what he was saying.

“I saw him climbing the railing,” he said evenly into the microphone the reporter had shoved in his face, “but I was just too late…I couldn’t get to him in time to save him.”

His face was oddly blank considering the warmth he’d shown you the previous day. The camera centered back on the reporter.

“Depression has taken yet another victim here on the St. Anne’s bridge. It seems the security cameras on the bridge were not functioning when the event occurred, so there is no video record. Officials are promising to put more cameras and safety measures in place to stop tragedies like this from occurring. If you are experiencing thoughts of harming yourself please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. Simply dial 988. Dane Andrews will be remembered as a…”

You muted the television and blinked as images of the man who assaulted you flashed on screen. Dane is dead. You didn’t want to celebrate someone’s death but for some reason it put you at ease. You’d never accidentally run into him again. He’d never have another opportunity to taunt you. You couldn’t erase what had happened but it felt like you’d gained some closure. You were so focused on that, you didn’t even consider that it was a bit odd Orion was the last person to have seen him before he jumped off of the bridge.

You hurriedly pulled out your phone and texted him.

I saw you on the news…want to come over?

It was only a few minutes before he responded.

Be there in ten.

You quickly put on some proper pants and brewed a pot of coffee while you waited for him to knock on the door. When it finally came you found yourself smoothing your hair and glancing in the mirror before answering it. For some reason you wanted to look some kind of way when he saw you.

You opened the door to the Orion you remembered, not the cold emotionless one on TV. He gave you a big smile and to your surprise he had a bouquet of peonies in his hands.

“For you,” he said, holding them out to you.

Despite the somber mood of the morning, you smiled back, letting him inside and hurrying to the kitchen to find a vase for the pretty pink flowers.

“It’s crazy what happened to Dane,” you said as you poured him a cup of coffee, “I guess even people like him have their own inner demons.”

“Mmm,” Orion said, noncommittally as he sat at your kitchen table and took a sip, “I hope you feel a bit safer…”

His eyes followed you as you got a cup and poured yourself some coffee. Of course, he had no intention of telling you, Dane did not kill himself. He had thrown Dane off the bridge after making sure he regretted ever laying a finger on you. He knew just what to do to make it look like the damage had been caused by his body banging on the rocks under the bridge, not Orion’s fists.

You sighed.

“You know I feel a little bad for saying this, but I really do feel safer,” you admitted, your gaze meeting his gold irises.

He smiled.

“Good,” he said, “you deserve to feel safe. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again.”

Sitting down next to him at the table you fiddled with the handle of your mug.

“You can’t be sure of that,” you murmured into your coffee, “things happen all the time.”

He pulled your chin up to look at him, cupping your cheek gently. He knew he would have to be gentle with you always and he looked forward to holding you even closer.

“While I’m around they won’t happen to you,” he stated.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you believed him. Your cheeks flushed just a little and your heart fluttered.

“D-do you plan on sticking around?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t ever plan on leaving you,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

If it were anyone else those words would have been frightening, but Orion had cast some kind of magic spell on you with his kindness and you only felt safe and seen.

You raised your much smaller hand to place it on his larger one against your cheek and looked up at him.

“I think I’d like that,” you said with a small smile.

#monster x girl #orc x reader #monster x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #soft yandere #orc boyfriend #monster romance #monster fluff #male yandere #yandere fluff #yandere romance #monster boyfriend

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ranhaitanisgf · 3 months

Note

Can I please request the love at first sight trope and seven minutes in heaven for Mikey :) (just an idea but maybe he sees her forms a crush and stuff then he invite her to a party hosted by toman) also I absolutely love your writing I've been binge reading!

— manjiro [mikey] sano // love at first sight // seven minutes in heaven

☆ ˎˊ˗ hi anon !! thank you for requesting for my event !! i'm ngl i did nawt kno what i was doin w this ... just kinda cranked this out lawl ... hopefully you all will enjoy anyways !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.1k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you are so nervous right now.

“hey, don’t worry about it! everyone’s going to love you!”

“right…” you replied, still feeling nervous as you and mikey stood outside the door.

you had been confused when mikey first talked to you on one of the rare days he came to school, and you were even more confused when he had invited you to hang out after school. you had only ever spoken to him in passing, so when he invited you to go eat out with him, you were sure that he was trying to play you.

at first, you didn’t fall for his wily tricks, even when he ended up falling asleep on your shoulder when he was taking the train home with you, (yeah, you definitely didn’t think it was cute…nope…). you had been suspicious of him, wondering if perhaps he’d been dared to try and get you to fall for him, (unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened).

however, when he confessed to you, things changed.

you hadn’t seen it coming at all, but he casually admitted to having feelings for you while the two of you were walking to get food one day, saying that he immediately had thought you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen.

“i’m flattered mikey, but you can stop it now…”

“huh?”

“you’re probably doing this on a dare, right?” you sighed, furrowing your brows. “you can stop pretending to like me now.”

“(y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen in my life.” mikey responded, his face dead serious.

“w-what?! stop! how could that even be true?!”

“it is true. you can choose to not believe me, but i’ll keep telling you until you accept it.”

since that day, you’d been unsure of how to feel about him. you really wanted to believe him and accept that he liked you, but at the same time, you were too scared that he might be trying to prank you. he really did keep his promise of telling you every single day though, which was slowly starting to convince you.

and so, here you were.

he had been bugging you to come to a party with all his friends, saying that he wants everyone to meet the girl that stole his heart, (it was a cheesy line, but it made you feel all fuzzy inside). when you finally accepted the invitation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to back out of this when you saw the excited smile on his face.

“you ready?” mikey asked, bringing you back to the present. he was looking at you with a soft smile, calming your nerves a bit.

“yeah.” with a nod, mikey opened the door, leading the two of you inside to where everyone was. as soon as everyone caught sight of the two of you, they were immediately staring, making you fidget with a lock of your hair as you stood next to mikey. were you supposed to say something?

also, why were they all sitting in a circle.

“mikey, good timing! we were gonna play seven minutes in heaven!” a boy with pink hair piped up, (why was he smiling so much?).

“hah…? everyone here is dudes…” mikey stated, obviously confused. “i thought we were gonna play monopoly!”

“well, you’re right, so you and your lady friend can go first!!” a boy with long black hair suggested, suddenly standing up and walking towards the two of you. “you don’t mind, right?” he asked you.

“uh, i suppose not…” you responded, feeling a bit confused as to what was going on. when you looked at mikey, you could tell that he had something he wanted to say to everyone, but didn’t, instead just staring at them with a deadpan face.

“well, since there’s no complaints, let’s get this started!” someone yelled out, making everyone cheer. without a moment to spare, the boy with black grabbed both of your arms with a gentle yet firm grip, dragging you and mikey towards a nearby closet.

“oi, just whaddya think you’re-!”

“shaddup, mikey, you’ll thank us later!”

before you could even think to question what you had just agreed to, the two of you were pushed into the closet, a click! sound coming from the doorknob, leaving you and mikey in darkness.

“uh…what just happened?” you hesitantly asked. you could hear mikey sighing, beginning to knock on the door. it was to no avail though; they had turned the music back on, blocking out his voice to the outside world.

“buncha idiots…” he muttered. “it’s okay, they’re just playing a prank, so let’s play along!” he said. through the darkness, you could see him sitting down, gesturing for you to sit down as well.

when you sat down next to him, you weren’t sure what to say. you had been really nervous to come inside and meet everyone, but now you were nervous because you were in this enclosed and dark space, very close to mikey, (you weren’t nervous he was going to do anything, you were just nervous that…actually, you’re going to be too flustered if you think about that).

“by the way, (y/n)-chan, you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“h-huh? why’re you saying that now?”

“well, i haven’t said it today, right?” mikey asked, seeming to be thinking for a moment. “i don’t think so…” your heart was starting to beat faster; of course, he’d been saying that to you since he’d confessed, but being in such close proximity to him in this situation was making you feel more and more convinced of his feelings.

“...mikey, you…” you started, your eyes dropping to stare at your fingers in your lap. “you’re the best person i’ve ever met. i really like you.” you finally let out, shutting your eyes in anticipation.

maybe i shouldn’t have said that…

“woah, seriously…?” you heard him say. you slowly opened your eyes, glancing over at mikey beside you.

he was looking at you with the most childish and excited expression; you could almost see the sparkles in his eyes as his lips were curled into the most boyish and cute smile you’ve ever seen.

“are you serious right now? you’re not joking?!” he asked, his voice shaking with nervousness and excitement.

“no, i wouldn’t joke about that…” you murmured, smiling shyly at him.

he suddenly moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your frame tightly as you pulled you close to himself, his face buried in your neck.

“ahh, i’m so happy right now…” he said, his voice low and soft, (you were trying to not focus on the fact that you could feel his breaths against your skin).

hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him as well, relishing in the way that he held you a bit tighter, as if he was never going to let you go. it felt like there was nothing that could affect you while in his arms; all you knew was mikey.

“thank you for trusting me, (y/n)-chan.”

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