#for the purposes of the question a wrap is a sandwich and a hot dog is not (it is not cold)

[sleepnoises]

SURVEY QUESTION: what is your personal favorite cold sandwich to make at home. alternatively, what is the fanciest sandwich you make

[spideymarvelws]

Peter Parker has been desperate for a connection ever since his break up with MJ, and with everyone in his life leaving one by one, he has turned to the only person that he knows in his heart will never leave him, you. With valentines day right around the corner, Peter goes to great lengths to make sure that you stay his one and only valentine.

Dark!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

warnings: SMUT, 18+ my dudez, fem receiving, degrading, dirty talk, alluding to kidnapping in the end, obsessive behavior, sad peter (pls give this boy a break)

a/n: this is my first ever smut and dark fic so yeee sorry for a kinda shitty smut scene. kinda wanted to get something out for valentines day and ive been binging YOU so this was born. Message me or comment if you wanna be added to my peter parker taglist!

Word count: 2.2k 

Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Peter parker was never the one to be selfish. He always put other peoples needs before his whether it be one of his closest friends or a random stranger on the street. His hero complex was through the roof and all the other avengers always praised him for his selflessness and care when I came to saving the city of queens.

But despite his good doings to world around him, most things never went Peter’s way and the people he cared about most, always walked out of his life and left him for nothing, at least thats what it felt like to him.

His first crush’s father ended up being a criminal which he had to fight that ended with her moving halfway across the country. On a vacation that he desperately needed he ended up questioning every person he meet and fought a fake hero only to get battered and bruised on a trip that was suppose to help him relax. Hell every father figure he’s had has betrayed, left or died under his cause.

But what sent him to his breaking point was when the supposed love of his life broke up with him for God knows what reason. He had stop listening when she mentioned taking time apart and figuring things out.

Peter didn’t remember much from that night, all he took from his broken heart was that the world he lived in was an unforgiving place. The more good he gave to others the more he lost. He realized that good deeds came with a price to pay with your own self conscious and he started questioning his own purpose as spider-man and whether small tiny wins were worth the world of despair and loss.

He knew that something in him changed that night, a new darkness grew inside of him. He no longer felt the urge to help others against his own well being. But something inside him also told him to seek help, and that why at three in the morning he found himself standing outside your door.

You and Peter met during his internship with Tony Stark and immediately hit it off. To peter this happened right after the liz incident and hanging out with you was like a new breath of fresh air. He’s never connected with someone so quickly and every afternoon after petrol he would find himself eating some sandwiches from Delmars with you on your apartment’s roof.

However three months into the friendship, you had too move away from queens to brooklyn. Peter was devastated, again another person to leave his life, but you made sure to keep in contact with him through text and video calls, Peter knew that you would remain the one constant, outside of may and ned, that would never leave his side.

“One second!” he heard your voice shout, slightly muffled since the door was still closed.

The door flew open revealing you in al your glory. Pajama shorts and a sports bra with a cardigan over it which you kept tugging in front to cover your revealing choice of sleep wear.

“Peter? What are you doing here? Jesus you could’ve called at least. Come on in, don’t wanna stand outside forever, its fucking cold this time of night.” you rambled pulling peter inside your home.

You immediately got a blanket to wrap peter in and set him on the couch to sit. Without saying a word you moved gracefully to the kitchen, pouring out some hot chocolate from a covered pot on the stove into a mug.

Walking over to were peter sat and handed the steaming hot cocoa to him. He took it from your hands without taking his eyes from your own while you moved to grab yours that was placed on the coffee table.

“So,” you started taking a sip of the drink in you hands, “What brings you here, in my house, at three am, looking like absolute dog shit?”

Ah, there she is peter thought

“Would you believe that I just wanted to say hi?” Peter chuckled, his humorous tone not quite meeting the look in his eyes.

“No, no I don’t, I know that that could be easily done over video call pete,” you deadpanned looking at his with your sparkling eyes. Even at the early hour you looked heavenly to peter and that god damn nickname, he never knew hove much he loved it coming out of your mouth until now.

Softening your gaze you put down your mug and grabbed Peters hand, delicately wrapping your fingers around his. Both of you looked down at your intertwined hands before you started back talking in a much softer tone, “I also know that it’s much easier to swing to your girlfriends house that to see me towns over when you’re in distress.”

After hearing you mention girlfriend he tightened his hold on your hand and squeezed his eyes shut. The word was almost like a trigger to his emotions that he desperately wanted to suppress.

“Oh baby,” you whispered before setting pete’s mug down and pulling him into a hug letting him rest his entire body weight against you.

He melted into your touch, forgetting what it felt like after a year away, countless calls and texts couldn’t compare to the warmth that your arms provided. He put more weight on you body causing both of you to fall lightly on the couch with him on top, sticking his face into the crook of your neck.

Placing a kiss on the crown of his head you whispered, “do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not-not really,” peter muttered pushing himself deeper into your embrace

“Ok baby, just get some rest, you look like you haven’t slept in days,” you said, moving your hand slowly up his arm that was tucked around your waist. Before drifting off into sleep he felt you put your chin on the top of his head not before placing one last kiss on his head.

.

.

.

.

The past two months Peter has been noticing things he never has about you and every day he found something else to love.

And yes, he said love. He couldn’t believe that after all these years of pinning over girl and girl, the perfect one was in his grasp the whole time. You’ve been so caring and kind the past weeks and he couldn’t be more grateful.

He found himself wanting to be closer to you, wanting to feel the love that you gave him over and over again. He made himself home in your bed, cuddling with you almost every night, maybe under excuse of nightmares but some nights he would pull a card that you never refused.

“It’s what mj would’ve done”

Of course this sentence now meant nothing to him since he found someone else, someone better, but he couldn’t help but feel smug when a hint of jealousy would fill your eyes before turning into the soft, caring ones he grew to love.

But peter wanted more, he wanted more than just a platonic relationship. He wanted the love and attention that you gave him not to be just to help him through a rough time but rather because you were his and he was yours.

Lately he’s been getting impatient with moving things slowly, of course you guys haven’t seen each other in a year so there was a lot of catching up to do, but he was tired of helpless pinning and useless signals when you just thought it was because he was hurting.

Valentines day was coming up soon, and peter for the past few days had been formulating a plan in his head to make you his, his only and his forever. He knew that you be hesitant in the approach that he will be making to confess his growing love but you would warm up to it. After all you didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Currently you were showering in you room, the day before valentines day and it was time to put his plan into action.

Walking into your room he heard the shower stop. He walking around, resisting the urges to just barge into the bathroom. Once the door opened he saw you in all your glory, of course the towel you wore around your body covered what he wanted to see the most but he would get to that part later.

Taking large steps he grabbed your waste firmly and pulled you against his chest. He could see the confusion in your facial features but before you could get a word out he placed his lips against yours.

Perfect just like he had imagined, not that everything about you wasn’t perfect but your lips was probably his favorite part of you. Whenever you would rambled about silly things like movies or your favorite book, he always saw himself gazing at your lips, memorized by the way they move and how soft they looked. Clutching on to you towel tighter you accepted the kiss only to pull away a few seconds too early for peter.

“peter, what-” you started but peter put his lips against you ear, shushing you silently.

“don’t worry princess, I know you want this just as much as me,” he said softy putting his hands on yours and loosening your hold on the towel.

Peter knew what he was doing, he did formulate a plan, a formula one can say, to make sure you stay with him forever. But the last straw in proceeded with it was when he came home from the supermarket earlier than expected and heard you moaning his name from your room.

“peter,” you faintly moaned tilting you head back as peter made his way down you neck, placing light kisses in his trail. Your reaction made him smirk, knowing that he was only half way through with his plan.

“I’m going to take care of you baby girl, but first,” he growled ripping away the towel and pulling you towards the bed. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, you climbed on to his lap and began ferociously kissing him.

His hands travelled from your waste to your ass, lightly squeezing before giving a light smack. You lets out a small moan upon contact, moving from his lips down to his neck.

“you like that don’t you?” peter groaned as you started to grind on his crotch over his jeans, “there’s plenty of more were that came from.”

With that he turned you over and laid you on the bed.

“Touch yourself baby girl,” peter said before standing back up and removing his shirt flexing his muscles knowing it turned you on even more.

“peter, peter please,” you moaned, and peter could’ve sworn he almost cum right there.

The view of you rubbing your pussy with one hand and grabbing your breast with the other, tilting your head back as you moaned his name. His name was coming out of your mouth as you pleasured yourself in front of him.

He couldn’t wait to see this sight for the rest of his life, he couldn’t wait to have someone as beautiful as you were there by his side, his forever.

Walking swiftly towards the bed, he crawled his way on top of your form.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you,” peter whispered before moving down and diving into your dripping pussy.

You let out a scream of pleasure, arching your back from the bed. Peter swiftly placed an arm around your tummy, pushing you back down to the mattress, keeping you in place.

You used your hands to take some of his hair and tugged pulling out a moan from peter causing vibrations on your clit triggering a moan of our own.

Taking his mouth off of your womanhood, before you could wine he replaced it with his fingers quick to enter you.

You though his fingers couldn’t compare to his mouth but you were surely mistake penetrating you with a strong fast pace . Adding one by the minute before he was knuckles deep with three fingers.

To top it all of, his dirty talk as he looked up at you with a sinister look on his face.

“you like this don’t you baby girl, hmm? Fuck- bet I can make you cum with just my fingers deep in you pussy huh? Such a slut for me and me only. Don’t forget that, your mine. Now cum for me princess, can you do that for me baby?”

Peter calling you slut was enough to make you scream his name before squirting over his face. You’ve never been finger fucked so hard before or even squirted in general. Every new sensation you were feeling overwhelmed you, causing your your vision to black out. The sight of peter grabbing a cloth from the bathroom was the last thing you saw before darkness overflowed you.

Peter came back from the bathroom and smiled at your figure sleeping mindlessly on his bed. He had just killed two birds with one stone, planning on just slipping something in your water since he knew that your throat would be sore after. He knew he didn’t have much time and that you would wake up at some point so he started moving quickly.

He cleaned you up and dressed you I his T-shirt and sweats then carried you bridal style out the front door and placed you inside a black car which already housed most of your belongings packed in suitcases in the trunk.

He laid you down in the back seat making sure you were comfortable before proceeding to the driver’s seat. Taking one more glance at your sleeping form, peter pulled out of the driveway and made his way to his and your new forever home.

[thebonerpit]

~*~ Santa’s Little Helper ~*~

Starker, no powers au, 2016 words, fluffy, cheeky, Christmas-y fun (that was intended to be just smut but ended up like this... if people like it I might do a pt.2)

This was hell. Tony was in hell. And hell was decorated like Santa got drunk and threw up Christmas cheer over every available surface.

Pepper wanted Morgan to get her picture with Santa, and absolutely refused the idea of Tony just hiring someone to come the house and do it there. Something about going to a mall Santa was more “authentic”, she said. Tony was sure she just wanted to torture him while she was away in LA with her new boyfriend. So unfair.

Which is why he was currently standing in a line with hundreds of other miserable parents and screaming, sugar-filled children waiting to hand his daughter over to a stranger who probably smelled like cheese and stale beer and hope she didn’t start crying. Joy. As they finally rounded the last corner, Tony could see the scene in front of him. Jolly old Santa (who, to be fair, looked perfectly pleasant and not drunk), a big Christmas tree, and… hello there.

Tony’s gaze was immediately locked on what appeared to be an elf, currently bending over to scrape a small child off the floor and back on to Santa’s lap. His legs were encased in some obscenely tight green leggings, and the curve of what looked like an absolutely perfect ass was barely visible under the edge of a bright red tunic. He even had a little pointed hat with a bell, and what looked like plastic elf ears attached to the edge of it. But when he turned around, that’s when Tony was really dumbstruck. He was beautiful. Young, far too young for Tony to even be considering but hey, who ever said Tony made good choices? He had huge brown eyes that matched the brown curls peeking out from under the hat, and an adorable round face that made him look perfectly innocent and sweet.

Tony wanted him.

He seemed distracted by trying to wrangle all the children ahead of them so he didn’t look up until Tony and Morgan were next in line.

“Welcome to Santa’s Village, may I get your—uh… your…”

Tony smirked.

“Your name! Your name, please. Um. Sir.”

“Tony Stark,” he said, still smirking at the flush on the boy’s cheeks as he typed it into the iPad. He was trying to hard to be professional, bless, but Tony could tell he was attracted to him. Tony knew the effect he could have on people, but most of the time their adoration was an annoyance more than anything. Now, it seemed, he couldn’t get enough. The boy looked back, purposely avoiding Tony’s gaze, and focused on Morgan. This seemed to help and he easily switched back into elf mode.

“And you must be…” he said, bending down to smile at the young girl clinging to Tony’s leg.

“Morgan H. Stark, and I’m here to see Santa Claus,” she stated proudly. The boy laughed and extended his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Morgan H. Stark. My name is Peter, and I’m one of Santa’s elves.”

Morgan’s eyes went wide as she shook his hand (or rather, his fingers).

“Do you make toys?”

“I sure do! Do you have a special toy you want to ask Santa for this year?”

“Uh-huh!” Morgan said, nodding her head vigorously. She looked like she was about to go on but Peter quickly shushed her.

“Shh, that’s gonna be a secret between you and Santa, ok? And then he can tell me what to make for you!”

Morgan nodded again, looking very serious. Tony was absolutely charmed. This boy – Peter – was so good with her, and it honestly warmed his cold, black heart a little. Peter stood back up and the flush on his cheeks returned when he looked at Tony again.

“It will just be a minute, sir, apologies for the wait.”

“Of course. Peter, was it?”

“Um, yes… yes sir.”

“And what is a lovely elf like you doing working in a place like this?” It was terribly cheesy but Tony just couldn’t help himself, and he was rewarded by Peter flushing even deeper and ducking his head.

“I… school. Um, I mean… I’m in school? Not right now, of course. Winter break. But… I kinda needed the extra money.”

“He means that he doesn’t want to have to resort to eating the on-campus hot dogs anymore because they keep giving him really bad—”

“MJ!” he screeched, startling the people around them in line.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, and then turned to the girl beside him and glared at her until she rolled her eyes and moved away.

“Where do you go, Columbia?” Tony asked. Peter looked adorable when he was embarrassed but Tony didn’t want him to stop talking because of it.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “first year. Biochem.”

“Biochem? Impressive. Yeah I’ve been there a few times… pro-tip, the cafeteria sells discount sandwiches at the end of the day. Might be a better choice than hot dogs.”

Peter looked up, all wide, brown Bambi eyes, and smiled.

“Uh… thanks, Mr. Stark. For the tip.”

God, there were SO many inappropriate jokes just begging to spill from Tony’s lips but they were all saved by Morgan tugging on Tony’s pant leg.

“Daddy, daddy, look, it’s my turn!”

“So it is, wingnut,” Tony said, petting her hair with one hand but still completely focused on Peter’s face.

“Come with me, Morgan,” Peter said, holding out his hand for her. She followed him over to where Santa was perched on his throne (did Santa really need a throne that big?) and he helped her up on to his lap. The other elf, MJ, seemed to be working the camera so Peter stood off to the side and gave Morgan an encouraging thumbs up. Tony watched, a smile creeping across his face, as Morgan explained in great detail what she wanted for Christmas this year. Santa looked a little dumbfounded but Tony assumed it wasn’t every day a child asked for a fully programmable robot cat that can also turn into a repulsor-powered rocket ship that she can ride around the yard. And no, Tony did NOT give her that idea whatsoever…

Unfortunately, Santa then started asking her other questions and although Morgan wasn’t a shy child, she didn’t like going into situations unprepared. She started looking visibly uncomfortable, squirming away and ducking her head, and Tony was just about to step in when Peter scooted forward and knelt down beside her.

“Hey Morgan, you did such a great job! How about we get a photo, and then you can pick a candy from the toy chest ok?”

Morgan still looked displeased but she nodded, and Peter nodded back. However, as soon as he went to leave she made a little noise and reached out to grab him.

“No. You stay.”

Peter swallowed and looked over his shoulder at MJ, who just shrugged.

“Sweetheart, elves aren’t supposed to be in the photos, ok? It’s just for you and Santa! It’ll just take a few seconds—”

“No!” she said, much more forcefully this time, and Tony could see her eyes starting to tear up.

“I… um…”

Tony Stark to the rescue, once again.

“It’s fine,” he called out, waving a hand at Peter from behind the camera, “you can stay.”

“A—are you sure, sir? I don’t want to intrude…”

“You’re not intruding, you’re saving me from having to explain to my ex why our daughter is in tears in what’s supposed to be a heartwarming Christmas memory.”

This got a little laugh out of him, and he looked down at Morgan who was still clinging to him, her hot little hand pressed into his.

“Ok. Alright. How about I just sit here, Morgan, is that ok?” He sat on the top step, just to the side of Santa’s throne, where he could still hold her hand. He arranged his legs gracefully underneath him and Tony once again thanked whatever god made those green leggings. “Can you give us a big smile?”

Morgan seemed appeased, and when MJ called out “say Santa!” she grinned widely. A perfect photograph. Pepper would be happy.

Peter led her over to the toy chest and while she started rummaging through for a candy, he walked over to Tony with his festive green and red iPad.

“The photo should be ready in a few moments. How would you like to pay?”

Tony handed over his black card which made Peter’s eyes widen briefly, but he processed it without a word, handing it back to Tony and definitely not shivering as their fingers brushed.

“Thanks, by the way,” Tony said casually as he put the card back in his wallet, “for avoiding what could have been a meltdown of epic proportions. Morguna is a great kid but her screams would probably break every pane of glass in this building.”

“Oh! Oh, it’s no problem sir, it’s what we’re here for. And I apologize again for having to be in the photo… we might be able to edit me out if—”

“Nonsense. It just makes it extra festive, right? And I can’t say I mind having the option to look at you on my mantel instead of an old fat man with a beard.”

Peter giggled – god, Tony could never get tired of that sound – and bit his lip.

“Th-thank you,” he said quietly. The bell on the end of his ridiculous hat jingled as he looked over to where Morgan was still digging into the candy stash. Tony took that moment to quickly scribble a note on one of his business cards and wrap it in a few hundred dollar bills, which he slid into one of Peter’s pockets on the front of his tunic. The sensation made Peter’s head whip back around, bell jingling even louder, as he stared open-mouthed at the money.

“Oh, sir, I can’t… we don’t accept tips…” He started to take the bills out but Tony stopped him with a warm hand pressed over his thin wrist.

“It’s not a tip, then,” Tony said, rubbing one thumb along Peter’s smooth skin. “Consider it a donation to your ‘no more hot dogs in 2020’ fund.”

Peter’s chest was practically heaving under Tony’s hand, and he watched as he swallowed thickly before looking up at him through those sinful lashes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you so much, sir.”

“Hey, it’s the holidays,” Tony said, leaning in just a little closer until he could see the gold sparkling in Peter’s big brown eyes, “Merry Christmas, Peter.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied breathlessly.

“I FOUND A CHOCOLATE SANTA!” Morgan yelled.

Tony groaned inwardly but turned to look at his daughter, smiling brightly and wielding a foil-wrapped chocolate Santa.

“Good job! Let’s go bite his head off, ok?”

Morgan cackled as Tony leaned down and scooped her up, hoisting her on his hip. He turned back to Peter who still looked like he might hyperventilate at any moment and offered him a crooked smile.

“Bye, Mr. Elf!” Morgan said, waving as Tony carried her out of the gates and back into the crowded mall. He purposely didn’t look back, even though he could feel Peter’s eyes boring holes into his skull. He just had to be patient.

+++++

Peter (10:59 p.m.): Hi Mr. Stark. Thank you again for the tip. It was WAY too much. But thank you.

Tony (11:01 p.m.): I see you found my card, too.

Peter (11:03 p.m.): I did… I’m free on Thursday. Or Saturday. Or any day, honestly, I���ll get MJ to cover for me because yeah I’d really really really really like to go on a date with you.

Tony (11:05 p.m.): That sure is a lot of really’s. I feel so special. Pick you up on Saturday at 8pm. Wear those tights for me, ok?

Peter (11:07 p.m.): NO.

Tony (11:08 p.m.): Don’t make a grown man beg, sweetheart.

Peter (11:10 p.m.): … I can wear them under my pants.

Tony (11:11 p.m.): Oh, you really are a Christmas miracle. Can’t wait, sweet thing. See you soon.

[bush-viper-cutie]

Love Me Roughly: An Exchange

Pairing: Snape x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,041

Rating: M for Mature

Plot:  Severus doesn’t know where his relationship is going, but he does hope it never stops. The only problem comes from the fact that they cannot remain strangers any longer.

A/N: This is part 5 of 7 for the week 1 schedule for Snape Appreciation Month!  @snapeloveposts​

DISCLAIMER: I have edited (drawn over the original) the artwork (taken from a 80′s bodice ripper novel) for the purpose of this short series and will post more information about the original work here.

Posted: 6/5/20

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May flowers were blooming, and the hot June sun was soon approaching, threatening the cool temperature of the little log cabin by the cliff. The clouds blew passed overhead as the sun touched the highest point in the sky and slowly fell back down to earth.

Severus was laying on the blue picnic blanket in just his white shirt and trousers, intertwining his fingers over his chest while listening to the birds chirp and fly, fluttering away from the small dog that barked in the distance. He sighed and turned to the beautiful woman resting beside him. He propped up his head with his arm and moved a slender finger of her cheek, making her smile.

“How hot does it get here?”

She laughed and opened an eye at him, “Worried you won’t be able to wear only black for much longer?”

“Perhaps… I was thinking of putting cooling charms throughout the house. Care to help me?”

She sat up, pushing him back onto the blanket and pressed her lips to his, smiling, “It’ll get too cold – ”

“I can handle that. Besides,” he pulled her in closer, “All that means is you’ll have to stay more often to keep me warm.”

She bit her lip, catching that twinkle in his eyes, “I’ll keep you real warm.”

Severus stood up and offered to clean up the picnic while she fetched her dog, who was getting more and more annoying as the days went on. He tracked mud when it rained, he barked every morning and night and when any squirrel decided to prance by the house… he even managed to wedge between him and the woman at night.

He rubbed his neck and winced, remembering the night before, having to make room for the mutt by sleeping in a highly uncomfortable position. He rolled the blanket in his arms and stuffed it in the basket. The woman walked back to him with the dog in her arm and took his hand, leading him down the hill towards his home.

“Do we have to put the cooling charms everywhere today?”

Severus rolled his eyes, “The bedroom at the very least.”

She dropped the dog inside and closed the door, turning, “You get started, I’ll make us some lunch.”

Severus nodded and headed up the stairs to the bedroom, wand in hand ready to add the charms. It was far messier than he had expected, forgetting that last night she hadn’t gone home so there was no need for her to pack her things. All her clothes were either on the floor, on the night stand, or on the bed, along with his coat.

He chuckled to himself and got to work on charming the window, door, and walls along with floor and ceiling to keep the hot air out and the air around them cool. He lifted his arms for one last charm and winced, rubbing his shoulder and neck where it hurt.

“I’ll close the door so he won’t get in tonight,” the woman entered and placed a tray of sandwiches on the nightstand. “How sore is it?”

“Very,” he hissed, touching a particularly rough spot.

She stepped closer and hugged him from behind, kissing him and rubbing his chest with her hands, “I can help with that, you know.” She laughed and pushed him down on the bed, kneeling behind him on the mattress.

“If I turn out worse than before, I’ll poison you,” he growled.

“Your little jars and dead crawly things don’t scare me anymore – ”

He could hear the smile in her voice.

“ – You can act tough, but I know how you really get in bed.”

He knew she was winking. He shook his head and sighed, letting her arms reach around him to unbutton the shirt he wore. She unbuttoned half and pulled down the shirt collar, revealing his shoulders to the encroaching night air.

He felt her thumbs push into his back and neck, and he couldn’t help but groan as she rubbed slow circles into his tender muscles. She laughed and kissed his head as she worked, which was surprisingly helping his pain. His groans got louder as she reached his shoulders, pushing harder than she had been previously.

“Yeah. That hurts differently,” he gripped the mattress and dropped his head. He couldn’t count the amount of times he wished she could have done this for him in his Hogwarts office after hours of reading awful essays.

“Why don’t you sleep in my bed this time? Just once?”

He sighed, “No.” He didn’t mean to make his voice so menacing, but he couldn’t let the relationship go that far. First, he would be sleeping over there forced to get to know her more intimately, then he’d be hearing her name, and beyond that was her finding out about him which he could never let happen. “No,” he said softer.

Her hands fell to her side and she sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him back to lay on her. He let his head rest on her shoulders and closed his eyes.

“I’ve been sleeping in your bed for weeks… How much longer are you planning on keeping me at arms distance? You clearly care for me and I care for you so…”

Severus shut his eyes tighter, knowing she was right. He liked her a lot. Much more than he had anticipated, but he still couldn’t let his past creep up on him. He didn’t want to talk about the war. Nor the years spent as a spy, Not to mention having to explain being a Death Eater.

Everything was so simple when he didn’t have a name and no past… Except he kept wondering about hers. What is her name? Why was she in London? Is she from here originally? What’s her name? These were all questions he wanted answers to. He wanted to know her favorite color, her favorite fruit, if she preferred the summer or the winter… Even what the dog’s name was…

“You might not like me if I told you who I was just last month,” Severus sat back up and pulled his shirt on properly, buttoning it up, and stood. “My life is better like this. It’s finally better… And I won’t – ” his words caught in his throat and he shook his head.

He picked his coat off the bed and put it on, buttoning it up as he walked down the stairs. In the few weeks they had been semi-living together, she had gifted him a comfortable chair to read his book in. He had barely picked it up around her because every time he did, she would laugh in the background, though she assured him it wasn’t because of the book itself. It was because of how red he got when she caught him with it.

He sat down and picked up the book, turning to the next page.

‘Robin cried into the arms of her oldest friend, not wanting to believe how loyal they were to their friendship. Stephano picked her small body off the ground, holding her to his muscly bare chest. Her friend said their goodbye and left, promising to come by often.’

The woman walked into the room with her arms crossed, frowning at him. He glanced up and lifted the book higher, unwilling to continue their discussion.

“What’s the alternative – ”

“Give. It. A rest!” Severus shut the book and turned away, staring instead at the small dog licking himself. He groaned and turned back to his book.

“What I’m saying is,” she walked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I… I really, really like you. And I don’t want to call you a stranger still in a year let alone… five! – or some other large and scary number.”

His eyes flickered to her face, seeing a small smile playing at her lips. He hadn’t considered what things would be like in a year, but he certainly hadn’t thought she would want to stay for that long, Let alone five.

He figured she’d get tired of him in a month. Actually, he thought the potions ingredients he had brought with him would creep her out enough to make her leave, but all she did was make a gagging noise and offer to get the bed ready for sleeping while he put them away. And she doesn’t mind when I spend all day long reading, which is his main activity – although he has enjoyed the walks, and picnics, helping with dinner, even playing with her dog…

“I – ” he groaned, “I’ll let you tell me the dog’s name.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “It’s Jiggy.”

The dog barked and came running, wagging his tail and pawing at Severus’ leg.

“‘Jiggy’?”

She scratched behind Jiggy’s ears and nodded, “As a pup he did this weird sort of dance, but he stopped, and I can’t get him to do it anymore.”

He nodded slowly, wishing he hadn’t been told, but hoped that would end the conversation. Of course, he was wrong and it was brought up again during dinner, while they changed into their pajamas, and while they brushed their teeth together.

Severus crawled under the covers quickly and shut his eyes immediately, trying to pretend he was too tired to talk, “Good night.”

She crawled in after him and sat, looking down at him and shaking her head. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“More so during the summer.”

She slid farther down and pushed him onto his back, though he kept his eyes closed. She started pecking his face, kissing softly. He parted his mouth and felt her lips on his instantly and hummed, loving the way she kissed him so sweetly.

“I thought you were too tired,” she teased.

He opened his eyes and moved her closer, “Is this not what you wanted?”

He pulled her on top of him and let her continue her attack on his lips while he pulled the sheets higher to conceal them in warmth. She pulled his night shirt up and placed herself perfectly on top of him. He let her do all the work while they kissed, perfectly content with everything she did.

When he had last thought of what relationships would be like, he had been quite certain that sex would be the highlight of it. And although they were intimate most every night like spellbound lovers, he came to realize that it was only the cherry on top of everything she had to offer. He thought more about what she had said before. He wanted all this to last well over a year… In fact, I want this to last well over five…

He was pulled back to reality by her moans and couldn’t help but join her. Her head was bent over his chest and he could smell the sweet shampoo she always used. He gripped her waist tight and waited until she looked back up at him to kiss her hard between his moans and hers.

“I want you to moan my name,” she whispered.

Severus’ groan turned into a moan. “You’ve tricked me,” he could hardly speak with all the rough breathing he was doing. He heard her giggle and he couldn’t help but give in as she worked her magic on him. “What is it? I want to say it,” he moaned urgently.

“(Y/n).”

It was music to his hears and he immediately put it to good use.

“Don’t you want me moaning yours?”

Fuck. Of course I do.

“Give me your name to moan,” she bit his lip gingerly and tugged.

“Severus,” he gasped and swept his hands over her back and pressed her close to him, tangling his fingers in her hair while she gave little love bites to his neck.

With every moan she made he heard his name on her lips, louder with every passing second. Everything seemed better suddenly, everything felt better. They were closer, even if their physical intimacy was at its peak. She dropped her head and sighed loudly as a wave washed his body of all tension and stress was replaced by pure pleasure.

“(Y/n),” he hugged her close.

“Severus.”

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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[montyrakusen]

Bad weather in Jaywick

Ray lifts his stick slowly and pokes at the body of a young man asleep under the lee of a boat on the beach. There is no response. Ray is a little unsteady on the wet sand and in the rain and gusts of wind he is finding it hard to walk on his baker’s van accident in Pimlico leg. Joan had always wanted them to retire to Jaywick, she had friends there and it was beside the sea and Ray wasn’t one to argue. He’d only come out on his early morning walk for some Danish bacon and the News of The World and now there was a body. He continued prodding with his stick and the young man sat up suddenly and asked Ray what he wanted. Ray explained that this was no place to sleep especially at this time of year and it was bad weather in Jaywick.

The young man is grateful for Ray’s invitation to drinks at the pub later. He brushes his teeth in the vandalised public toilets and with his little silver camera takes pictures. He walks the deserted streets and photographs the run-down huts with evocative names like ‘Y Worry’, ‘Dun Roamin’, ‘Osocosy’, ‘Rest Awhile’, and ‘Denise n Babs’. Between the rainstorms, when there’s a glimmer of light, he takes photographs and then shelters under the awnings of closed seaside shops when it’s wet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his old army jacket, the rough horse-hair lining pricking his hands. He has tea in a cafe, all red plastic and wood, the windows steamed over. There is no one else. Joan watches him from a crack in the lace curtains and in her living room her china animals stay silent. Ray goes to buy bread and Brillo pads and he watches the young man down the road from afar. The wind picks up and the rain comes down and it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

The young man can hear the noise even before he has entered the ‘Never Say Die’ public house but as the doors close behind him there is silence. The bar is full of elderly men watching him, mostly smoking, playing dominoes, sitting on crimson velour chairs around tables full of ashtrays. It’s very smoky blue and it stings the young man’s eyes. Ray hobbles over and greets him with foaming beer. The old men gather round and ask the young man questions, leaning closer to hear him better. They buy him beer, he buys them beer. Time passes and then it is dark. The young man worries about sleeping out there in the beach wind and cold under the boat but soon he is invited to stay at Ray and Joan’s home. The two men bend into the wind and rain, in the darkness, the sodium lights glow orange reflecting on the wet ground in the beer light and the bad weather in Jaywick.

Joan, wearing her pink Terylene house coat and purple chiffon scarf greets them as they crowd into the comfortably small hut. They sit on the sofa in front of the orangey fiery fire effect fire and Ray kindly demands bacon sandwiches. Joan toasts Sunblest bread and fries up bacon in a bit of lard. She brings them bottles of Bass beer and they smoke and joke. Ray smokes Players No6 and the young man still has half a pack of St Michel which he bought just across the choppy channel in Belgium. The little party, warm and cosy-cosy in the hut, rises in noise and drunken friendliness until they run out of things to say. The room is full of souvenirs and bric-à-brac which looks on silently. Ray is working himself up to asking something. The beer and pleasant conversation has given him courage and when Joan is out of the room he leans close to the young man. His breath smelling of fags and beer is hot in the young man’s ear and his speech is slightly slurred. Ray asks if he could do him a favour of a personal nature, he’s having a bit of trouble, you know, in the bed department with Joan and could the young man do it for him? Joan returns to the room and starts to wash the dishes, her back to them, unaware, humming. The young man gazes towards her. The bric-à-brac looks on silently. The young man doesn’t want to offend anyone and politely refuses. After a few moments Ray is not offended in any way, standing, smiling he jumps up, snapping his braces and patting Joan’s pink Terylene behind he exclaims defiantly that, well then, he’d just have to do it himself. The young man is relieved, and thinking of the dark beach, makes his bed on the sofa. He looks out of the window at the dancing stormy branches and the rain drops streaking the glass because it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

The young man lies on the uncomfy uncomfortable sofa in the semi-darkness, he’s not very tired. Soon he can hear a rhythmical banging against the wall next to the sofa. In the gloom he sees the pictures on the wall moving and then on the shelf the bric-à-brac begins to dance around to the vibration. The trees form jumping shadows on the wall in orange and the wind whoops and roars. Then there’s the sound of dustbin lids and small dogs barking in the distance. The rain rattles the windows and it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

Later, in the orange glow the bric-à-brac is now still. The young man watches them with interest. On the shelf above the radiogram are a large collection of souvenirs and amongst them are: a model seal made of real seal fur, a goldfish held forever in a block of perspex, a red and blue glass Murano style Bambi frozen in a Bambi pose, a black china Manx cat from the Isle of Man, just one china 101 Dalmatians dalmatian, a shiny Jersey cow from Jersey, a china spaniel, an Amari tea cup, a bowls trophy and a dog completely made from Woodbine packets. They talk happily to each other, quiet at first then louder, about the days of summer, blue on blue skies, sunshine, seagulls, fish and chips, the smell of vinegar, visitors. The young man smiles and agrees, closes his eyes, dreams of better days while outside it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

Ray coughs, takes his tablets at the kitchen sink and puts the kettle on. Soon it starts to sing and then there’s the clink of teaspoons and the pouring. He takes a cup to Joan. He takes a cup to the young man who cradles it in his hands to warm them. Ray wonders if the weather will be any better today and the steam rises from the brew. The young man packs his things into an old rucksack and explains it’s time to leave. Ray says kind and happy words, there is some back slapping. The young man steps out into the rain, he doesn’t look back and walks down the street to the sea wall. Ray stands at the door watching as the hunched figure becomes more and more distant, Joan pulls back the net curtains and watches as he walks away. The young man walks south towards the estuary and Brightlingsea, he passes ‘Las Vegas’, ‘Club Morocco’ and the Martello tower, striding out onto the wild lands. The clouds part and the sun beams down on him warming his soul, the skylarks rise up and chatter above his head. He feels happy and purposeful in the sun. He turns to look back at the town and there the clouded horizon is still dark and black blue with rain and it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

Some time later and far to the north another young man is hitch hiking along the A133. He’s been waiting a while and he’s come a long way but now an old white delivery van is slowing down to pick him up. The driver is a big burly bloke delivering bacon from Colchester and asks the young man, where he is going. The cab is cluttered full of paper work and sweet wrappers, thermos flasks, Playboy magazines and a bunch of plastic flowers. The radio is tuned to BBC Radio One but it’s too noisy to hear it. The young man replies that he’s going to Jaywick. After a while in the noisy cab, travelling east towards the sea, the burly bloke shouts over the roar that he’d better wrap up warm because it looks like it’s bad weather in Jaywick.

The End

Editing: John Coombes, Georgia Rakusen

See the second set of images: https://montyrakusen.tumblr.com/post/622628454211485696/bad-weather-in-jaywick-part-2-in-progress

[technohumanlation]

Whumptober Day 22

Fevered 

Characters: Hank and Connor. Hankcon

Warnings: Some swearing

I just want to apologize for the lateness of these chapters. I lost track of time and I tried my best to do one prompt per day but in order to complete this challenge in time I’m combining prompts together. Maybe later on I will separate them and make the chapters but until otherwise please enjoy. 

Connor always woke from stasis at exactly five in the morning. He would slip out from under Hank’s burly arms watch as he grumbled protests and went back to snoring. Some nights when Hank needed a good sleep he would sleep in his own room. And when he did, he would make his bed tidy, his room and desk if need be, and then make his way into the kitchen. 

The coffee maker would already be gurgling to life making the precious drink that Connor insisted that Hank would cut back on. He would take a cup from the cupboard and place it on the counter right side up.

The last time he had placed it upside down had the lieutenant, in his tired and not fully awake state, pouring hot scolding coffee all over his hand and the bottom of the cup.

He learned that lesson very, very, quickly. Humans were endearing yet exhausting when waking from their nightly slumber, especially his love. Slurred speech, messy bed head, and a not too awake mind trying to process the days’ agenda.

Hank had told him to not ask questions until the first cup was gone. This lesson he did not learn so fast purposely. It was humorous to listen to his human mumble under his breath, grumble, and groan about needing a new mattress, and curse about the weather.

Connor moved towards the fridge and leaned forward turning his nose up in mild dissatisfaction regarding the selection of food Hank had in stock. Alerted from the sound of the fridge being opened, Sumo made his way out of Hank’s bedroom and lobbed his way over to Connor. Without flicking his eyes away form the insides of the refrigerator he greeted him with a friendly scratch of an ear. There was a single egg left, a mouthful of orange juice, and no meats to fry alongside some toast. An egg sandwich with a lonely slice of cheese would make due for Hank’s breakfast for today.

“We are definitely stopping by the market after work, boy.” He murmured to him. A soft woof was his answer and Connor smiled. “C’mon let’s get you something to eat too.”

He scooped out a cupful of a specially formulated blend of dog food for senior canines and placed it in his bowl. He patted his hip gently. Alongside his partner, he too, was sore in this kind of late fall weather as well.

“Good, Sumo.”

It took ten minutes to prepare breakfast for Hank. After that he turned towards the rest of the house. The android didn’t mind acting as a residential android from time to time. Cleaning this and neatening that. He owed so much to the lieutenant. For wakening him, for making him realize there was so much more to life, for proving time and time again he always had hope that he wasn’t just a machine.

For loving him. For teaching him love. How to show and make it.

He made his breakfast to ensure he wouldn’t crave vending machine food, made a wholesome meal to fight the urge to drink in excess, wrapped himself around his human when the bad days came around, or just do laundry now and then was the least he could do to assure Hank’s own recovery and pay the priceless debt he owed to him.

Time and time again Hank had fought his logic. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, babe, honestly. You’re my partner.”

“But it goes both ways.”

Connor smiled upon the curt conversation with clear memory. It wasn’t the first time he called him his partner. Not because of their work relations but in a way that declared their relationship status.

It was a declaration that made his chest swarm with feelings of belonging.

The sensations continued even now. The android noted the time and frowned. It was after seven and Hank wasn’t up yet.

Normally he wouldn’t be up this early but it always made the android fret. Maybe after he had taken Sumo for a walk he would be up. So, as a precaution he left the sandwich in the microwave, kept the coffee burner and lights on in case he did wake when he was gone.

He left a sticky note on his mug saying he was out for a walk with Sumo and turned to the dog whom knew of the routine all too much.

But, even after Connor had walked Sumo, a few blocks extra to give Hank enough time to wake up, he still hadn’t come from his bedroom.

His LED swam a concerned yellow upon this worrying discovery.

He un-clipped Sumo from his leash and he promptly made his way back to his bed in the living room corner to chew on his bone.

Connor shucked his jacket off and made his way towards Hank’s room. He opened the door slowly to prevent the troublesome creak form startling him.

Slowly, he made his way over to his bedside and creased eyebrows against the dark. “Hank?” He murmured gently.

Connor placed a gentle touch on his shoulder. Upon the muggy heat seeping through his fingers his grip tightened ever so slightly. Worried, Connor flicked on the bedside light to the lowest setting.

His LED swam a permanent yellow as he looked over the old man.

Concern flooded through him. Not even the light could wake him up. “Oh, Hank...”

His t-shirt was soaked through with sweat. His body radiated heat even under the covers and a reddish hue had taken on his normally tanned skin now a pale color.

His hand drew to his forehead, under sweat drenched hair. He knew the results would prove to what he suspected but not this badly. His temperature was over a hundred and the way his breathing took on a dry wheeze had him concerned.

Hank was very sick.

“Hank?” He tried yet again, his hand traveling down to cup his cheek lovingly for a moment and then his shoulder. He gave him a gentle shake.

Already was Connor writing an official letter to Fowler that Hank would not be in work today or for a few days and a doctors note would be procured.

Grumbles left the old man as he woke from his unrestful slumber. He opened his eyes revealing sunken in blues that were highlighted by dark circles. The android felt nothing but worry for him.

“Con-?” He rasped.

“C’mon...” The android urged gently. The first step wast to get him to the shower to clean him up and open his airways with steam. The second was to strip his bed and get him some nice clean sheets and clothes.

“M’ late huh?” He shoved his face into the pillow but grimaced upon the wet spot from his sweat.

Connor smiled gently. “It’s alright, I notified Fowler of the state you are in. Worry about you for now.”

“Knew I was gettin’ sick.”

Connor bit his tongue. He was upset that he didn’t notify him of his state. It could have been prevented. The android slumped his shoulders. On the other hand he also reminded himself that Hank was an adult and that he wasn’t always supposed to be there for every need. It was a bitter truth that Connor didn’t like to admit.

He drew the blankets away from his love and the reaction was immediate. A curse flew from his lips as Hank curled into himself to preserve much needed heat. His shirt had ridden up to his chest revealing the bottom half of his tattoo, his sweatpants had also dragged downward. A sign that his sleep was anything but restful.

His shivering would no doubt be relieved once he was in the shower. And getting him to the bathroom as quickly as the tired human could let him would be the hard part.

Connor hefted him into a sitting position and then took him by under his arms to help him stand.

“Fuck, m’ gonna be sick.”

“Hold on.” He instructed.

He took his arm and slung it over his his shoulders guiding him out of his bedroom and into the bathroom across the hall. He gently guided him to the toilet, where he promptly fell to his knees and threw up.

Connor crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back rubbing the wet fabric along his spine. He was patient as another bout of sickness made him double over once again. When all that was left but the sour stench of bile, dry heaves, and pathetic groans, he flushed the toilet, stood the human up, and began to strip him of the cooling clothing that made him shiver.

Hank leaned against the wall and smiled drunkenly. “If this were any other time...”

“Behave.” Connor smiled just as lovingly.

Hank was obedient as Connor took the reminder of his clothing off and turned the shower on making sure the water was hot and steamy.

He didn’t notice the way Hank was watching him with adoration and love. “’m okay, babe. I can do the rest. Not my first time being sick. Just tired.”

Connor paused upon the realization and inclined his head. Embarrassment flooded through him. “But its my first time seeing you this sick. I’m sorry.”

Hank cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “It’s alright. I appreciate it.”

Connor smiled holding his wrist and kissed it in return.

As Hank stepped into the shower, tilting dangerously as the dizziness from the fever tricked his equilibrium, he caught him and breathed out an exhale of relief.

“I’m fine.” He assured once again.

Connor left him to his own business begrudgingly and left to strip his bed and place the linens in the wash.

When he made his bed he chose cool sheets and a warm blanket. He opened the window just a crack to rid of the hazy and heavy air.

A coughing fit across the hall had him returning to the bathroom. “Are you alright?” He asked pulling aside the curtain. Hank stood with his hand planted against the opposite wall. His head bowed over as he tried to regain his breath.

“Yeah, yeah...”

He closed the curtain and opened the medicine cabinet. “By the way, I made you coffee and breakfast. There wasn’t much so if you want anything I can stop at the market.” He decided he would go to the market alone while Hank stayed home to rest.

“Thanks Con’, I-” A series of coughs, wet and loose fell from the old man’s lips. It was a good sign the steam was helping break up the mucus. “Fuck.”

Not a moment later Connor stuck his hand into the shower offering Hank two large gel capsules.

It was a good sign that the man behind the curtain chuckled. At least he still had his spirits. The pills were taken from his hand

“Love ya ‘Con.”

“As do I.” Connor vowed.

[darley1101]

A Bit Of Normal

A/N Some fluffy goodness featuring Damien and Ava for @confessionsofabrokegirl. “I care about you, I've always cared about you” and “Time flies when you're with someone you love.” They fit in nicely within the realm of my Perfect Match series, so that is where it is set. I hope you guys enjoy! If you would like to read more Ava and Damien you can do so by clicking HERE

Warning: cute bit of fluffiness with a side of angst

Tagging: @clarissafics  @confessionsofabrokegirl

Permatag: @debramcg1106  @boneandfur @speedyoperarascalparty @flynnomalleys  @blackcatkita @mfackenthal @hamulau @endlessly-searching-for-you @umccall71 @damienazariostan @penguininapinktuxedo @eileendannie @writtenbycandy @josieschoices @tmarie82 @drakelover78 @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @kingliamthirst

A Bit of Normal

Drawing her legs to her chest, Ava wrapped her arms around her calves and tucked her chin into the little valley between her knees. Through lowered lashes, she stared out at the vast expanse of woods that butted up against the back of Damien's property. With the full moon casting shadows and a slight breeze causing the trees to sway in some hypnotic dance, it reminded Ava of a scene out of a horror movie. She half way expected a monster truck sized werewolf to come galloping out to howl at the moon; or worse, Cecile and her gang of Eros thugs. Thinking about Cecile and Eros made Ava think about Alana. It hadn't come as much of a surprise that Damien's ex was connected with the corrupt research corporation. From the very start, there had been something shady about her presence in Damien's house. Hayden taking a nose dive into the hardwood floor right before they could put some distance between themselves and the scheming bitch had really put a kink in things. They couldn't travel with a comatose android and they couldn't leave him behind. Alana had seized the opportunity to drag Damien into the office, literally slamming the door in Ava's face when she tried to follow. There had been raised voices, talk of some guy named Nikos, and then their voices had dropped so low it had been pointless to try to eavesdrop further.

Letting out a sigh, Ava let one of her legs drop so that her toes barely touched the dew covered grass. Her body tensed as a bush rattled to the right of her. She let out a nervous laugh as calico cat darted out and sped across the back yard, disappearing into the woods. There was no point in telling herself to stop being so paranoid, it would be an impossible feat at the moment. Between expecting Eros to pop out of the shadows at any moment and waiting for Alana to take them all hostage, Ava was the poster child of a paranoid wreck.

“This seat taken?”

Slowly shifting her gaze from the woods to the man standing next to her, Ava tried to smile but ended up grimacing instead. “I'm surprised the treacherous bitch let you loose.”

Without waiting for an invitation Damien sat next to her, reaching for her hand. Semi-reluctantly, she let him twine his fingers through hers. She wanted to ask him why he had let Alana slam the door in her face, why their conversation had to be secret when it was all of their lives hanging in the balance. “You're pissed.”

“Not really,” she admitted, ducking her head down so that she could study her chipped toe nail polish. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Getting so emotional over something as trivial as chipped polish seemed so silly. It wasn't the polish so much as she missed the certainty of her life in New York. Now, nothing was certain;  other than Eros was hunting them and they couldn't trust Alana...except they probably had no choice now that Hayden was, for all intents and purposes, in some sort of software malfunction coma. “Just tired, I guess. I'm really tired of not knowing what's going to happen next. And yeah, okay, maybe I am a little pissed. She slammed the door in my face, that would piss anyone off.”

“Hey,” Damien said softly. He cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze searching her face. “I'm sorry about Alana. She had no right to do that. The only reason I let it slide was she was willing to offer up information on a source that might be able to help us getting Hayden running again.”

Ava nodded, her fingers sliding up Damien's arm to wrap around his wrist. She dragged his hand upward so that it cupped her cheek and leaned into it. “I'm not mad at you. I promise. I'm just...ready for things to be normal.” She lift her head, her eyes meeting his. “Do you think she really has a source that can help Hayden?”

“If anyone can help Hayden, it's Nikos. Long as we don't question where the parts came from or insult his bears, we'll be fine.”

“Bears?” Ava felt both of her eye brows shoot straight up. It was a joke. It had to be. This Nikos character didn't really keep bears...did he?

“He likes to surround himself with a bunch of goons and then nickname them according to whatever bear he thinks they most resemble.”

A giggle erupted from Ava. “That's ridiculous!”

“Pretty much,” Damien chuckled, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. “So, I was thinking...we have some time to kill before we meet with Nikos...how would you feel about salty, buttery popcorn and one of those ridiculous romcoms Nadia's always going on about? We can mock its cheesiness.”

Twisting in his arms, Ava narrowed her eyes. “I like rom-coms.”

“They're all the same,” Damien teased. “There's always some poor schmuck pining away for a girl whose completely oblivious until said schmuck finally says 'I care about you, I've always cared about' and then poof the girl magically realizes she feels the same way. Of course there's hilarious one liners and the accident prone co worker for shits and giggles.”

“You realize that up until recently I was the poor schmuck pining away for the boy who was oblivious to my feelings,” Ava sniped, crossing her arms over her chest and eyes still narrowed as she waited  for Damien to respond.

“Not the same thing. I wasn't the only one oblivious to how the other felt.” Damien had her there. They had both been fools, pining away for the other when had they just spoken up they could have saved themselves a world of heartache. Perhaps even avoided this whole Eros fiasco. Or, she inwardly grimaced, maybe not, since it was Nadia who initially brought Eros into their lives. Nadia and her innate need to find true love. “So...how about it? You. Me. Popcorn. Cheesy movie.” He drew her closer, nuzzling her neck with his  nose. “Would kind of be like we're having a little bit of normal before the next shit storm.”

Normal. Just the word itself was like a soothing balm. Ava closed her eyes and snuggled against Damien's chest. “A bit of normal sounds nice. There's only one problem...this place doesn't have a television.”

“Who says we need one of those?” Damien rest his cheek atop her head, tightening his hold around her. “Close your eyes.”

“They are closed,” she murmured.

“Good. Now...picture this. There's this incredibly handsome private eye whose just sitting at his desk, enjoying this beaut of a sandwich-”

“It was a hot dog,” Ava giggled. “The private eye was eating a really messy hot dog and had mustard all over his chin and down his t shirt. Which had several holes in it. He also had on this really ugly old plaid flannel shirt. But yeah...he was kinda handsome. If you're into sexy Puerto Ricans. Which I am.”

“Good to know,” Damien chuckled. “So our sexy Puerto Rican private eye is eating a messy hot dog, covered in mustard, and minding his own business when the door to his office is flung open. Standing there is this short, overly cheerful woman with lots of hair, a squeaky voice, and an armful of weird, perverted drawings. She throws the drawings on his desk, wanting to know if he can find the weirdo whose sending them because a. she wants them to stop and b. she wants to suggest they go to art school because they're not half bad and with the right training they could be really good.”

Lifting her head, Ava opened her eyes and stared at Damien. “You're kidding. There's no way Nadia thought those freaky, cartoon-ish porno comics featuring her and that bozo Randolph were any good.”

“I wish I were. She actually said if he apologized she would write him a reference for NYU's art program.”

Ava let out a groan and buried her face in Damien's chest. “My cousin is the weirdest, nicest person I know.” She toyed with the collar of his shirt. “Of course the detective took the case. It was too good to pass up. It wasn't every day some cute girl came in wanting him to track down some amateur cartoonist with a fetish for provocative caricatures.”

“Provocative caricatures?” Damien shook his head. “That's a good one.”

“I thought so,” Ava demurred. “Now...where were we?”

“Alright looking girl walks in wanting help finding perverted cartoonist.”

Giggling, Ava shifted on the bench so that her back rest against Damien's chest. Her gaze drifted towards the stars glittering above, a sense of awe washing over her. It was hard to see the stars in New York. Between the smog and the brightly lit city-scape there wasn't much room for stars. “They're so pretty,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Damien agreed. “Think our detective should ask his artist client to go on a star gazing date or...should her smoking hot cousin that he accidentally meets in a bar?”

A soft smile tipped the corners of her lips. “The smoking hot cousin,” she replied. “Always wait for the smoking hot cousin.”

“Hm. Good idea. Except, oh wait, the smoking hot cousin thinks the artist and the detective would be cute together so she tricks them into going on the most boring date in the history of boring dates.”

Ava bit back a groan. “Are you ever going to let me live that down? It was an honest mistake! I thought you guys were crushing on each other. Nadia kept talking you up and you kept asking us to come in to go over mundane details of her case.”

“Correction, I kept asking you to come by, you're the one who kept inviting Nadia. And Nadia was probably talking me up because I kept asking her if you were single.”

“We really were oblivious schmucks weren't we?”

“Absolutely.”

Twisting so that she could see his face, Ava reached up and cupped his cheek. She drew the pad of her thumb across his cheekbone, her eyes memorizing every feature. His impossibly long lashes, that tiny mole near his left ear, that lock of hair that always fell across his forehead no matter how much product he used. “I love you,” she whispered. “And thank you for the distraction. It's made things a little bit more bearable.”

“Time flies when you're with someone you love,” he joked before turning serious. “We're going to get through this. Before you know it, we'll be back home in New York and I promise to sit through as many of those cheesy rom coms as you want.”

“You don't know what you're promising,” Ava laughed, curling into his lap. “I have quite the collection of cheesy chick flicks.”

“I've been to your apartment,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I've your stash. Who knew you were a fan of Jessica Simpson's acting.”

“Hey, just because she can't act her way out of a paper bag doesn't mean the movie isn't good,” Ava protested.

“That's debatable.” Damien gathered her against his chest, squeezing her. “I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. How about we finish 'watching' that detective get his girl from the comfort of bed?”

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 12: In Which Leaves are Crunched

...And Sans starts to realize just how lost he is.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 11: In Which Dinner is Delivered

Next: Chapter 13: In Which Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Click here for the story overview.

Saturdays, Sans decided, were breathtakingly beautiful when caring for Attie.  Not quite as good as Sundays, but amazing all the same.

He was laying on his bare mattress, eye sockets barely open, looking at his phone.

“9:05,” said his phone screen.

Beautiful.

He didn’t have to go to his hot dog stand (or any of his other jobs) because he was watching Attie.  Boss and Undyne did something with the Royal Guard on Saturday mornings, so they were both occupied.  Attie hadn’t had a nightmare, so she was still asleep in Boss’s room.  It was just Sans, his phone, and a lazy Saturday morning.

He quickly crushed the thought.  He had too much bad karma for it to last-

Ding!

Aaaand there it was.  He reluctantly tapped the message notification on his phone.

Bundle of Joy 9:06 AM Hello Mistr Sans!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You 9:07 AM Hey kid

Bundle of Joy 9:08 AM Are you awake?????

You 9:11 AM Nah

Bundle of Joy 9:12 AM Okay!!!!!!

There was a long pause.  A few reckless birds that hadn’t flown south for the winter were making some kind of racket outside the window, but he decided to consider it a comforting reminder of being on the surface rather than an annoyance.  His eye sockets had started to slide shut again when-

Tap tap tap tap taptapTAPTAP

He curled in on himself, willing away the sound of tiny approaching footsteps from the hallway.

The door to his room creaked open slowly.   Painfully slowly.  He could feel Attie’s eyes on him, but she insisted on opening the door one millimeter at a time.  It was an amateur mistake; there was no way he could see the door in his current position so sudden movements weren’t a concern, and opening the door slowly made the squeaking long, loud, and obvious.  She would’ve been better off opening it quickly, hiding, then sneaking in through the open door when his guard was down.

The urge to tell her all this faded after a moment.  He just hoped she’d go away.

“I know you’re not really sleeping, Mr. Sans,” she whispered.  She whispered like Boss did: loud enough to raise dust.

He stayed quiet.

“Okay.  I’m gonna go make a peanut butter waffle like you showed me yesterday.”

“Yer not allowed t’use th’ toaster without a grown-up,” he grumbled.

“Then you should probably come and help me?”

“Not the way it works.”

He knew she was pouting.

“Hey.  Why don’tcha give me...hmm...another five minutes, then we can make breakfast.”

She made a funny noise that sounded excited, but he wasn’t curious enough to figure out how she did it.  “Okay!  I’ll wait back in Mr. Papyrus’s room!”

The pitter-patter of little feet disappeared back down the hallway.  Sans noticed that she’d left his bedroom door pointedly open.

Exactly four minutes and fifty-two seconds later, he rolled himself off the mattress.  He landed on the floor next to it with a dull thump and a clatter of bones, and gingerly pushed himself upright.  A beeping noise from down the hallway made him grin; he’d shown Attie how to use the timer function on her phone for cooking purposes, and she used it for everything she could now.

The kid herself appeared a moment later.  “Are you awake?” she asked, cocking her head at him.

“Ugh, yeah.”

“Great!!”  She bounced on her toes.

“...Let’s go make you peanut butter waffles.”

“Okay!”

Sans still felt half asleep, but he managed to get a pair of waffles out of the back of the freezer (where he’d hidden them from Boss) and into the toaster.  Attie had perched herself on the counter with the peanut butter, eating it by the spoonful.

“Attie, I’m pretty sure your mom wouldn’t be happy about you doin’ that.”

“But you’re not my mom.”

“...Fair enough.  But you hafta eat all your breakfast.”

“Okay!”

He started a pot of coffee.  The human internet was a wonderful source of information: he’d been able to find clear instructions (with pictures!!) on how to operate and clean Boss’s fancy coffee machine within seconds of searching for it.  Coffee went a long way towards improving Undyne’s mood, so he’d been getting up a few minutes early to start a pot before she showed up each morning.  It was a self-defense measure.  The idea of having a whole pot of coffee to himself, instead of sharing it with a fish-faced Royal Guard, was tantalizing.

“Can I try some coffee?”  Attie asked.  She’d started asking every morning after Undyne praised the benefits of caffeine once too many.

Sans responded as he always did: “Gotta ask your mom.  Besides, I think you’re crazy enough as it is.”

“Okay!”

The waffles popped out of the toaster and Sans put them on plates.  (He would have happily eaten his right out of the toaster, but Attie insisted on the plates.)  His little helper spread peanut butter on each waffle, then handed one to Sans.

“Bone appetit,” she said, face solemn.

“And to you.”  He saluted her with his waffle.

He finished his quickly and texted Frisk a picture of Attie, slightly melted peanut butter oozing through her fingers and onto her plate.  A good four texts in, he remembered that Frisk was actually conscious now and reading her messages, and by then he’d already rambled on about peanut butter and waffles longer than any self-respecting monster would admit to.

The advantage of having the house to himself was that Attie could take her time getting dressed.  He’d figured out last Saturday that she liked wearing strange color combinations that even he - a complete fashion heathen - knew looked bad together.  He indulged her for most of the morning until she got tired of changing clothes and wound up in a red and blue striped shirt and jeans.

“How do you want your hair?” he asked, once she was dressed and bouncing around the living room.

Attie was prepared for this question.  She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, opened a web page, and showed it to him.  “I want this one!  ...Please.”

“That looks a little complicated.  Sure you wanna sit still that long?”

“Yyyyep!”

“Okay, but you asked for it.”

The hairstyle was the most intricate one she’d asked for yet.  The picture showed a little girl’s hair braided along her hairline in a kind of circlet shape.  ‘Crown braid,’ the instructions called it.

Sans gave a mental shrug.  It didn’t look like any crown he’d ever seen, but humans were strange.

It took half an hour of pulled hair and false starts, but he managed to get Attie’s hair woven and pinned into the desired shape.  “Done,” he said, collapsing back onto the couch.

“Thank you!” she yelled over her shoulder as she dashed down the hallway to the bathroom.  A squeal told him that she’d seen herself in the bathroom mirror and either really liked his work...or was very upset.  He was willing to bet on the former, but there had been that incident with the French braid...

The smile on her face when she finally reappeared was contagious.  “Thank you, Mr. Sans!” she said.  “I look really beautiful like a real princess!”

“Uh...aren’t you kinda a princess?  I know your mom is, ‘cause her parents are the king ‘n queen.”

She tilted her head to the side.  “I don’t know.  I don’t get to go to the big parties and everything, and no one calls me ‘your highness’ or anything like Mommy.  Do you really think I’m a princess?”

“You sure look like one today.”

“Yay!!  Oh, should I wear a dress, then?”

“Woah, hey, didn’t you...uh...just get dressed?  Yeah, you wouldn’t wanna get your pretty hair all messed up changing clothes again, right?”

“Okaaaaay.  But will you at least take a picture and show Mommy?”

“Sure, kid.  I do every day, don’t I?”

Once the picture and nothing else was sent to Frisk, they sat down on the couch with their phones.  “Okay,” he said.  “Same as last week.  You pick a place and show it to me, and I’ll check with Undyne.”

Attie hummed happily in agreement and got to work.  After a moment, she handed her phone over.  “This one?”

The map app on her phone was displaying a huge wildlife refuge at the base of Mt. Ebott, winding between monster territory and the city itself like a fat slug.  “That’s...I’m not sure that counts as a park?”

“Look at the name!”

He did.  ‘Mt. Ebott National Park,’ the phone said.  “Well.  Huh.  I’ll check.  But you know there won’t be other kids at this “park,” right?”

She shrugged.  “Most kids are weenies.  The kids at the embassy are okay, but mostly other kids don’t want to play tag or wrestling or capture the human.  And they cry if you push them over, and then parents get mad.  The kids at the embassy don’t cry when they fall over; they just get back up and keep playing.  ‘Cept the really little kids, but no one pushes them over on purpose because we’re s’pposed to look after the little kids.”

“...Welp, okay.”

He texted Undyne about going to the park Attie had picked.  She texted back almost instantly with a slew of questions, but since she gave her approval he ignored those.

“Undie says we can go.  She’s busy, but since there shouldn’t be anyone else there we don’t need an escort.  We just can’t leave trash and stuff behind, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Now.  What do you want for picnic lunch?”

Attie wanted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  That was fine.  What threw a wrench in the plan was her desire to make the sandwiches, and despite how much she practiced spreading peanut butter on bread it still seemed to get everywhere.  Sans resigned himself to following her around with a wet dishcloth cleaning up as she splattered peanut butter and dripped jelly across the kitchen.

“Done!” she finally declared, brandishing two lopsided sandwiches at the skeleton hovering behind her.

“Woah-hey!  Watch where you swing those!”

“Sorry!”

The sandwiches were wrapped and packed in Sans’s inventory, along with a bag of apple wedges (the easiest snack aside from popato chisps, which Boss didn’t allow in the house), a water bottle for Attie, and as many napkins as he could fit.  By some cruel quirk of the inventory system, each napkin took up an entire inventory slot.  He reluctantly removed his trombone and stashed it in his room to make space for the blanket Attie wanted to sit on.  Hopefully they’d be back before Boss, anyways.

“Okay, kid.  You ready to go?”

“Yyyyep!”

“A’ight, then.  C’mere.”  Once Attie was secure, Sans concentrated on the map he’d been shown of Mt. Ebott National Park and took a step forward.

Long-dead leaves crunched under his sneakers, and Attie wiggled almost out of his hold.  He kept his fingers tangled in the kid’s jacket as he evaluated his surroundings.  Only leafless trees, interspersed with the rare pine, surrounded their clearing.  They were alone.

Seasonally-challenged birds aside, Sans considered the area he lived in to be pretty quiet.  Sure, the neighbors and the traffic from the nearby highway made some noise, but it was a background hum he didn’t notice anymore.

He certainly noticed the lack of it, standing there in the middle of the wilderness.  He could barely hear any sounds, actually.  He was tempted to check his hearing, but the sound of Attie’s feet kicking up leaves confirmed that he wasn’t falling down just yet; it was just unnaturally silent.  There were no birds or other animals that he could hear.  The slight breeze ruffled no leaves.  A few dry branches clattered somewhere in the distance, sounding a little like bones, but it was distant and gone in seconds.

“Can I make a leaf pile and jump in it?”  Attie asked, wiggling harder.

“Eh, sure.  But stay where I can see-”

She had already bounded off.  Sans followed at a much lazier pace.  He gave her about an hour - an hour and a half tops - before she wore herself out and needed to eat to refuel.

Eventually, Attie collapsed into her giant pile of leaves and declared herself hungry.

“Oh thank the stars,” Sans groaned from under the neighboring pile.  She’d buried him - he checked his phone - an hour ago when he’d gotten tired of helping her gather handfuls of leaves into piles.  It was surprisingly cozy…

...until little hands began shoving the leaf pile off him.  “C’mon!”  their owner said.  “It’s lunchtime!”

He spread out the blanket and handed Attie her sandwich, the apple slices, and all the napkins.  He wasn’t really an outdoors-y person, not like some monsters he could name, but he had to admit that there was something kinda pretty about this place she had picked.  The trees were varied enough that it wasn't a copy of the pine forest near Snowdin, but the atmosphere reminded him a little of his old home.  He’d hidden in that forest often enough to have an appreciation for trees in general.

“The trees are really pretty even without their leaves,”  Attia said between bites.  “Did you take pictures and send them to my mommy?”

“I took pictures, but I don’t have reception out here.  Gotta get back to town to send them to your mom.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a bit longer.  Sans gathered up the trash in a bag and found - to his amusement - that once categorized in such a way, he was able to store all the leftover sandwich and apple bags and dirty napkins in a single inventory slot.  Magic was weird.

“I wish we could stay out here forever and ever,” the little girl said, sounding half-asleep.

“Oh?  Wouldn’t you miss your mom?”

“She could come out and live here with us too.  She has to go to work, though.”

“What about, uh, school?  And friends?”

“I do school from books, silly!  And I could visit my friends.  They all work at the embassy, at least sometimes, ‘cept you.”

It was a strange thing, that tingling that spread outwards from his soul at those words.  When was the last time he’d had a friend?  Had he ever?  Sure, it was just a little human kid, but...well, it made him regret not being a little nicer to the kid’s mom a few years back.  Had Frisk been this carefree and innocent once upon a time?  Had monsters taken that from her?

Had he…?

“Mr. Sans?”

“Yeah, Attie?”

“Am I your friend too?”

He leaned back onto his leaf pile and closed his eye sockets.  “Yeah, kid.  You’re my friend too.”

She sighed and laid down beside him, her fingertips tapping on his in a strange rhythm.  For once, he didn’t mind the contact.  He knew with absolute clarity in that moment that he would willingly die for this obnoxious, precocious, brilliant little girl.  Laughter bubbled in his empty chest at the thought.  There was no reason to suspect that they would ever be in a situation where that would be necessary, or would actually do any good, but that was the first thing that came to mind.

She was going back to her mother as soon as Frisk was released from the hospital, probably in a few days.  Granted, it could be a few weeks with how bad Frisk’s luck had been lately, but the fact remained that eventually Attie would go home.  She would go home to her mother and move on with her life.  Would she even remember him?  She’d only known him for a week and a half.  Sans himself couldn’t remember much from when he was seven years old, and considering what he’d gone through at that age it both relieved and frightened him.

Attie would forget him, someday.

“Mr. Sans?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re thinking too hard again.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay!  I just don’t want you to be sad.”

“Uh, thanks.”

She hummed a little.  “Mr. Sans?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go back to your house now and call Mommy?”

“Sure, if she’s awake.”

He hauled himself upright and held out a hand.  She took it without hesitation, smiling so wide her eyes squinted.

She...trusted him.  It was almost inconceivable, after less than two weeks, but she did.

Sans knew with a sinking feeling that he’d betray that trust somehow.  The thought made his shortcut a little more bumpy than usual, but instead of complaining Attie immediately demanded that he always make his shortcuts that “fun.”

“...No promises.  Now don’t you have someone to call?”

She squealed and ran off to locate her phone.

You 2:14 PM *12 picture messages sent Picnic at mt ebott

There was no response.  Was Frisk alright?  He caught himself worrying that she hadn’t eaten anything since the mac ‘n cheese, but forced the thought away.  She wasn’t his problem.

...But what if she had eaten something, and it had been poisoned?  Humans were weirdly susceptible to poison.  He curled his twitching fingers into a fist to keep them from drumming on the table.  This kid and her mom were going to be the death of him.

“Mr. Sans?”

“Yeah, Attie?”

“I can’t call Mommy.  She isn’t picking up her phone.”

“Yeah, she hasn’t texted me back, either.  Whaddaya wanna do while we wait for her?”

She thought hard for a long moment.  Sans braced himself for anything.  “Friend” or not, this kid had a downright disturbing sense of humor sometimes.

“How about we play…TEA PARTY!”

Disturbing, indeed.

By the time Undyne vaulted dramatically into the apartment several hours later, Sans had resigned himself to his fate.  He’d been forced to ‘dress up’ (in nice clothes, which meant he had to do laundry, which Attie - the little goblin - absolutely loved) and was wearing his single formal outfit: a button-down white shirt and black slacks.  Attie had changed into a flowery skirt and top, and had insisted on finding an old bedsheet to use as a tablecloth for the skeleton brothers’ stained dining room table.

What made all that worth it was the look on Undyne’s face when she realized they had raided her ‘secret’ tea stash.  Coffee may have been her one true love, but tea came in a close second.  Boss kept some on hand for emergencies.

“WHAT THE EFF?!?” she screamed, waving a spear wildly.  “SANS, WHY?!?”

“Attie wanted to play tea party.”

“Yeah!” the girl piped up, taking a tiny sip from her coffee mug.  She’d been pretty upset to find that the skeleton household didn’t have any proper teacups.

Undyne looked more conflicted than Sans had ever seen her.  On the one hand, she was known to be extremely protective over her property, which automatically included all caffeinated beverages within arm’s reach.  (And she had a surprisingly long reach.)  On the other...she had a proven fondness for Attie, and Attie was obviously happy.

To his surprise, fondness for the little human won out...this time.

“Well you’d better pour me a cup, nerd,” she said, dispelling her spear and throwing herself into the chair across from Sans.

Attie giggled and dashed into the kitchen for another mug.

“So,” the captain said, eyeing him, “You’re still alive.”

“You saw me literally yesterday morning.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s an ongoing surprise.  I thought the kid’d run you ragged after a day or two, especially after you collapsed the first time you worked out with us.”

He shrugged.  It was a fair assessment.

“You’re not half bad at this, y’know.”

“What, at tea parties?  You know me, Cap’n; never one to pass up the pretty dresses.”

Undyne took a point of HP off him with her swat.  “Don’t be cheeky with me.  No; I mean you’re good with Attie.  It’s downright weird.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he drawled, winking.

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by Attie prancing back into the dining room with another mug of tea balanced carefully between her hands.  It was made more complicated by the fact that she was wearing oven mitts.  Sans braced himself to mitigate the almost-inevitable splash of hot liquid, but she managed to get the mug onto the table in front of Undyne without incident.

“Thanks,” Undyne said after a gulp of piping hot tea.  “You’re becoming a real chef.  You’ll give Papyrus ‘n me a run for our money someday, huh?”

“Yyyup!  I’ll beat you both, and then Mr. Papyrus will have to be nice!”

“He’s still gettin’ mad at you?”

“No, but he yells a lot.  Mr. Sans usually sends me to a different room when it starts so it doesn’t hurt my ears.”

“...Well, as long as you’re both okay.”

All three sipped their tea in silence for a moment.

“WAIT!”  Undyne slammed her mug down on the table with a firm thud.  “I almost forgot!  Attie!  Your mom’s getting out of the hospital!”

“YAY!  ...When?”

“Tomorrow or Monday, we think.  We’re waiting on some tests; don’t think they’ll let her go tonight, someone’s being a real ass about things.  It’s stupid.  Now that she’s awake she can pretty much take care of herself.”

“Wow!  That’s great!  Then I can visit her at my house instead of the stinky hospital!”  She hummed to herself a little.

Sans shared a glance with Undyne.  “Hey, uh, kid...don’t you wanna go home?”

“Yep!  But Mommy’s still sick, right?  I always have a babysitter when Mommy’s sick or I’m sick, so we don’t get germs all over each other.”

“I don’t think germs are a big concern here.  Appendicitis isn’t contagious.”

“...What?”

“Nevermind.”  He turned back to Undyne.  “So, uh, when’s the kid goin’ home?”

“We’ll see.  Frisk might need some time to get settled.  We’ll arrange something.”  She sighed, downing the rest of her tea.  “Well, it’s been great, nerds.  Gotta go check on the Dogi; Dogaressa might be going into labor.”

She left in a whirlwind of color and sound only marginally less intense than the one she arrived in.

“Mr. Sans?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“What’s a labor?”

“Work.  In this context, it means...uh, it means she’s having her puppies.  Y’know how they’re inside her right now?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, they’ve gotta come out.”

“Oh.”  She pondered this for a long moment.  “Does that mean they’re getting born?  Mrs. Dogaressa promised that I could pet them when they get born.”

“Uh, sure, kid.”

There was a blessed moment of silence, before:

“Mr. Sans?”

“...Yeah?”

“How did the puppies get inside Mrs. Dogaressa?”

“Just...finish your tea.”

[babbletop]

Here's a list of 10 Food Mashups That Will Blow Your Mind. Some foods are just made for each other and belong together, these are 10 food mashups that will blow your mind. ➡️ Subscribe to BabbleTop: https://bit.ly/2Uu3HPe Mashing things up is popular on the radio and it is popular in food. For some odd reason taking two things everyone knows and loves and putting them together really tickles people’s fancy. Here are the craziest and most exciting 10 food mashups that will blow your mind! If you enjoyed this list of 10 food mashups that will blow your mind, then comment: #MashUps #Food #Top10 TIMESTAMPS: 0:23 Taco Bell Doritos Locos Tacos & Tacos Chips  1:33 Burger King Mac ‘n Cheetos 2:45 Dunkin Donuts' Donut Sandwich 4:16 Cinnabon’s Pizzabon 5:47 Denny's Fried Cheese Melt 6:54 Carl’s Jr.'s Pepperoni Pizza Fries 8:03 KFC Double Down Dog 9:43 Taco Bell Cheetos Burritos 10:52 Burger King's Whopperito 11:51 Pizza Hut Cheeseburger Crust Pizza SUMMARIES: - This Doritos and Taco Bell team up really hits it out of the park. Like, really. Out. Of. The. Park. Off the field, over the fence, across the street, through the neighboring lawns, across town, into the next country and beyond. - Next on the list is the Burger King Mac ‘n Cheetos. Yes. It is a triple threat. It combines Burger King (love it), mac ‘n cheese (love it), and Cheetos (love it). So really there was no way this thing could fail. - Well, at Dunkin’ Donuts at least. Dunkin’ Donuts mashed up donuts and a breakfast sandwich. While the may be the solution to many people’s breakfast turmoil, the question is, will this flavor combo work for you? For many people it does! - You smell the sweet and rich scent of cinnamon buns. You know what they will taste like and you are gearing up to be licking the stickiness off your fingers. Nothing beats that right? Now try this, close your eyes again and take a minute to think about it being pizza day with all of your friends. We’ve all had a pizza party at some point. Maybe it was a birthday party? - The Denny's Fried Cheese Melt is next on the list for mashups that will blow your mind because really, why didn’t you think about this one first? Cheese sticks, yummy. Grilled cheese sandwiches, extra yummy. - Pick up your forks and dig in for Carl’s Jr.’s Pepperoni Pizza Fries. Much like the trend for “loaded fries”, this mashup loads pizza toppings right onto the fires. This is a calorie-packed snack that takes a regular pizza night to the next level. - Next on the list is chicken wrapped around a hot dog. Never thought that would be a sentence did ya? There is so much chicken in this order that KFC says there is no more room for the bun. - Much like the Taco Bell Doritos Locos Tacos & Doritos Locos Tacos Chips, this is a mashup between Taco Bell and a snack favorite: Cheetos. Taco Bell is actually owned by PepsiCo Inc. PepsiCo Inc. also owns Frito-Lay. - Are all of these mind-blowing mashups making you hungry yet? This next one is brought to us all by Burger King and it is yet another twist on the fan-favorite Whopper. The Whopperito is exactly what it sounds like, a Whopper, but in a burrito shape. - This one is wild and crazy. It is almost absurd. Almost too far to be considered okay and acceptable. But, it is just far enough to have us curious. This one is the Pizza Hut Cheeseburger Crust Pizza. Okay, real talk. Who could think about such a thing? ➡️ SUBSCRIBE to BabbleTop! https://bit.ly/2Uu3HPe 🥳 JOIN and become a BabbleTop member! https://bit.ly/2DCl21k 👕 Check out our MERCH! http://bit.ly/2SWDkQM 🔥 Our Most Popular VIDEOS! http://bit.ly/2T02a24 10 Costco Cult Favorite Food Items http://bit.ly/2YrP6GT 10 American Foods That Should Be Banned http://bit.ly/2YzLEdk 10 Secrets You Didn't Know About IKEA Food Court http://bit.ly/2Yqqi1N Top 10 Untold Truths of the Heart Attack Grill http://bit.ly/2H2LLYe 10 Coca-Cola Drinks That Embarrassed The Company http://bit.ly/2T8awZL 10 Secrets You Didn't Know About Costco Food Court (Part 1) http://bit.ly/2GWQWsY 10 Secrets You Didn't Know About Costco Food Court (Part 2) http://bit.ly/2YjiQ8C 10 Foods That Will Never Expire (Part 1) http://bit.ly/2Yncbul 10 Foods That Will Never Expire (Part 2) http://bit.ly/2YqVuOv Top 10 Discontinued Food Items We Miss (Part 1) http://bit.ly/2IyUJ1Y Top 10 Discontinued Food Items We Miss (Part 2) http://bit.ly/2TpKahK Top 10 Discontinued Food Items We Miss (Part 3) http://bit.ly/2YrUABe Top 10 Best Fast Food Burgers http://bit.ly/2YrcF2s Top 10 Fast Food Dollar Menu Items http://bit.ly/2YnNduE All clips used for fair use commentary, criticism, and educational purposes. See Hosseinzadeh v. Klein, 276 F.Supp.3d 34 (S.D.N.Y. 2017); Equals Three, LLC v. Jukin Media, Inc., 139 F. Supp. 3d 1094 (C.D. Cal. 2015).

[culbertsonhillsgr]

How To Stink It Up Gracefully

Golf Digest

How To Stink It Up Gracefully

And 29 other tips for having the most fun you can while playing golf 

By Guy Yocom

The hardest questions in golf are the ones that never seem to get asked. Take that cigar-chomping first-tee starter with a wad of cash in his pocket. You’re wondering, Is he as up for a bribe as he looks? If so, how do I solicit a magic-carpet ride to the first tee? Another one: When your opponent hits a hosel rocket into the trees, are you obligated to express sympathy, or can you obey your first instinct and just laugh? How do you ask that LPGA Tour player out on a date, anyway?

No guts, no glory. Here are 30 issues you might have pondered but haven’t quite had the temerity to query your friends about. You won’t find the advice we’ve assembled here in any golf etiquette guide, but it’ll make you more fun to play and hang with. And the starter you greased won’t be offended, either.

1. STINKING IT UP GRACEFULLY

Inside, you’re burning with frustration, despair and self-loathing. On the outside—the only side that matters in a social setting—your friends should see a person blessed with inhuman patience, dogged persistence and self-deprecating humor.

2. RATTLING YOUR OPPONENT (LIKE SEVE DID)

Stand between him and his golf bag so he has to walk around you to get to it. Cough, sniffle and sneeze during his swing, then blame it on allergies. Insinuate yourself into every rules situation involving his ball. Make him move his ball marker on the greens, even when it isn’t exactly on your line. Finally, chip in a lot.

3. HAVING A LITTLE SWAGGER LIKE ARNIE IN HIS PRIME

When you hit it close or jar a long putt, imagine throngs of people cheering wildly.

Tip your cap to these invisible fans. Bow your head humbly. Do not, however, light a cigarette unless you smoke. And only hitch your pants if your waist size is 36 or smaller.

4. DEALING WITH THE RANGER WHEN HE TELLS YOU TO PICK UP THE PACE

You’re dying to explain there’s a beginner in your foursome, you’ve just looked for three lost balls, and the group in front is slow. But just thank him, nod, and play faster.

5. TELLING YOUR OPPONENT HIS PUTT’S NOT GOOD

One day you’ll have an opponent look at his downhill, breaking two-footer for par and ask, “Is the rest of that good?” Your answer, with a smile: “It ain’t bad. That was a beautiful lag.”

6. SWEARING AFTER HITTING A BAD SHOT

Color the air blue without actually swearing. Incorporate the words “suck,” “idiot,” “garbage,” “stink” and “moron.” Don’t yell profanities. Hiss them. Tommy Bolt, the best swearer ever, never screamed.

7. DATING AN LPGA TOUR PLAYER

How do you, a stranger, pull this off without winding up on the receiving end of a restraining order? One way is to write a letter requesting her accompaniment to your prom—it worked for two young fellas who sought respective get-togethers with Lexi Thompson and Belen Mozo. Another way is to be independently wealthy enough to become a regular on the LPGA pro-am circuit. Make trusted friends around the LPGA Tour and the player’s hometown. When you do ask, suggest a multiple-couple group outing at a public venue—a concert, or maybe a bustling restaurant. Good luck, and may Cupid’s arrows find their mark.

8. HAVING THE MOST FUN IN YOUR GROUP

Make the round enjoyable for your friends, and the karma will boomerang. Ask them if they want to walk or ride.

If it’s ride, ask if they want to drive or ride shotgun. Show up with a joke. Be quick with praise and sympathy, slow to complain. Help your buddies. Rake their bunkers, offer yardages, bring over an extra club. They’ll treat you the same, and how fun is that?

9. FEIGNING SADNESS WHEN YOUR OPPONENT HITS A BAD SHOT

Never hint that you actually enjoyed watching him skitter one into the gunch, though enjoy it you surely did. Never feign sympathy, either—it indicates you don’t care who wins, a transparently phony attitude if ever there was one. Best to react like a courtroom judge: attentive, impartial and nonplussed.

10. TOTING A BEER, HOT DOG AND YOUR GOLF BAG

Drink the beer down a third of the way before you leave the window. With the hot dog, go very light on the ketchup or mustard, especially if you’re wearing a white shirt. If you can consume the hot dog in three large bites, it’ll be done and out of your way before you reach the 150-yard marker.

11. TELLING YOUR BUDDY TO STOP HELPING YOU

When swing advice from this wannabe Butch Harmon doesn’t stop, nod attentively, then hand him your 3-iron, toss a ball into a cuppy lie and say: “Show me.” If he happens to hit that shot 220 yards with a high draw, give up. He might be onto something.

12. GETTING GOOD BOUNCES

Call us superstitious, but if you make a habit of whining at the golf gods for bad bounces, the deities will conduct a closed-door meeting and conspire to make things worse. If you accept the occasional rotten bounce as the golf gods just doing their job, they’ll be more likely to open the gates of heaven at the right time, and give you a good bounce when you need it.

13. HITTING A SHOT YOU HAVE NO RIGHT HITTING

Have quick retorts ready for when you fail. “I didn’t win the Powerball last night, so I just had to give that shot a go.” They say the best-looking girls don’t get offers because nobody dares ask them out. Same rule applies here: You’ll never get at that tucked flagstick if you aim for the fat of the green.

14. TALKING TRASH TO YOUR BUDDIES

Address your pal John as if he were a child. Condescend: “Fellas, don’t you think Johnnycakes is improving?” Assign reputations they don’t yet have: “The staff might think you’re a lousy tipper, but I’ll say this: Your swing is looking good.”

15. BUYING A USED CLUB ON EBAY

The “buy it now” button on eBay can be a portal to used-club heaven or junk-club hell. A list of musts as you proceed through a listing: sharp photos (the more the better), all the specs (shaft flex and length, loft and lie), reasonable shipping, decent seller feedback and a hassle-free return policy. The idea is to remove any possibility of surprise when the club arrives.

16. PLAYING WELL WHEN YOU’RE HUNGOVER

You brought this on yourself, so don’t even think of complaining. Chug water like a parched horse. Take one more ibuprofen than usual. Choke down a burger if you can find one: Hall of Famer Tom Weiskopf used to say the combination of bread and grease does a body good.

17. HUMILIATING YOUR BOSS (AND STILL GETTING A RAISE)

If you sense your boss expects you to lose on purpose, find another job. If you feel he’ll tolerate your winning but might take it personally, start updating your résumé. If you sense he wants your best effort because it demonstrates moxy and honesty, oblige. Then wrap him in gold, for he is a rare and beautiful creature.

18. GREASING THE STARTER

Slip him stuff rather than cash. A sleeve of premium balls, with an innocuous, “Have you tried these?” Or a couple of ball markers from your trip to the U.S. Open. He’ll understand. Don’t make a habit of it—just enough to make him remember you.

19. WINNING A BET ON THE FIRST TEE

Most golf is four-ball match play, so come to the first tee knowing who the best player is, and snag him as your partner. Follow that quickly with the bet you want to make. If you’re answering to the other team’s proposition, you’re already on the defensive. Also, be mindful of the serious edge to be had on side bets—the “junk.” If you and your partner are better ball-strikers than your foes, propose larger payoffs for birdies and greenies.

20. KEEPING UP WITH THE BIG HITTERS

After you’ve squeezed every morsel of distance you can by normal means—practice, lessons and tweaking your equipment—there’s one trick left. That’s to swing the club faster and a little more recklessly than you’re comfortable doing. Golf is a sport in which physicality and some aggression can pay off.

21. SURVIVING A NIGHTMARE ROUND

When you’ve hit a gazillion bad shots and nothing is working, reset. If you’re a teetotaler, summon the beverage cart. If you’re not a music person, kick on the tunes. Ask your buddy if you can try his driver. Go left-hand-low. Play a hole barefoot. Anything to get you to the parking lot with a smile.

22. HITTING A GOOD DRIVE WITHOUT WARMING UP

Make a couple of practice swings with drowsy slowness, then tee your ball a shade higher than usual. Swing at 75 percent of your power, concentrating only on making the center of the clubface meet the ball. Regardless of where the shot goes, keep in mind that you aren’t warmed up for your second shot, either: Stretch everything out as you walk to your ball.

23. THROWING A KILLER MASTERS PARTY

Serve pimento-cheese sandwiches. (Recipes are all over the Internet.) During commercials, challenge your guests to say, “Hello, friends” in the manner of Jim Nantz. Conduct an eagle pool—$10 to enter, players chosen by blind draw. Have two TV rooms: one for people who yack through the telecast, the other for serious viewers.

24. CONSOLING YOUR PARTNER WHEN HE’S PLAYING LIKE A DOG

Ever see Ryder Cup partners roll their eyes at each other or give the silent treatment? Of course not, except for Tiger and Phil in 2004. The lesson: Never admonish, scold or cold-shoulder your partner. When he’s hitting it wild, a squeeze on the shoulder or pat on the butt might get him striping it again.

25. TELLING A GOLF TALE THAT’S ACTUALLY INTERESTING

Here’s the outline of a first-person golf story. Read and learn.

Stan got bit by a rattlesnake during our golf trip in Arizona. It was on the fourth hole at Screaming Cactus Country Club. He snaps one into the desert and goes after it. Doesn’t even scream. He just runs back to the fairway, takes a drop and hits. The bites are pinholes. One of the snake’s broken fangs is sticking out of one of them. But Stan wants to finish the hole. Another guy in our foursome calls 911. The paramedics meet us at the clubhouse—after we finish the round. Stan didn’t play any more that trip, but he’s fine. Still has the fang and keeps it in his bag for good luck.

See what we did? The story was told backward, punch line first, and kept in the present tense, as though it’s happening now. And blessedly, it was over in less than two minutes.

26. PLAYING 18 IN UNDER 3 HOURS

You’re going to need an open course, a good set of lungs and people as up for this as you are. Tee to green, ditch the range finder, don’t take practice swings, and remember that when you’re not hitting, you should be walking. On the greens, if you crouch to read a putt, you’re too slow. Don’t mark your ball, and be generous with concessions.

27. PRACTICING CHIP SHOTS WITHOUT HURTING ANY BYSTANDERS

You know those “no chipping” signs by the practice green? How they were allegedly put there to protect the turf? The course operators are playing you. They want to prevent 16-handicappers from trying Phil Mickelson’s greenside flop shot and blading one into the shin of the guy practicing four-footers. Use common sense. Never try to carry the ball more than two feet or aim at a target farther than 10 feet away. And for all that’s holy, don’t try to be like Phil and see if you can hit one left-handed.

28. WINNING YOUR OFFICE POOL

Check out recent form and how the player has fared at a venue. Near home, he’ll have extra fans—and extra incentive. Nothing beats being comfortable.

29. BREAKING THE ICE WHEN YOU’RE A SINGLE JOINING A THREESOME

Start with: “You guys look easy—want to play for a hundred each?” Just kidding. Be polite and deferential, like a party guest. Keep the conversation light, at least at first. Three keepers: Will Tiger play in the Masters? Ever been to one? When did you get that new driver? It’s gorgeous.

30. GETTING YOUR WIFE TO CARE LESS IF YOU PLAY SATURDAY

The real trick is pulling it off Saturday and Sunday, but because we’re starting small, here’s a primer: 1. Arrive home 30 minutes earlier than you promised, and never be late; 2. When you walk through the door, head to the kitchen and start doing the dishes; 3. Press the $40 you won into her hand and say, “I won this because you make me a happy golfer.”

Originally Published on Golf Digest

golfdigest.com/story/30-tips-for-having-fun-playing-golf

The post How To Stink It Up Gracefully appeared first on Culbertson Hills.

[lindafrancois]

How to Make a Kidney-Friendly Sandwich

The lunch meal is a popular time to have a sandwich. Sandwiches are easy to make and don’t take long to prepare. In the dialysis setting, sandwiches are a popular item to eat before or after dialysis treatment. Sandwiches that are low in sodium and phosphorus, plus limit potassium are a great fit with the kidney diet. But, how do you make a kidney -friendly sandwich? Continue reading to explore the components of a healthy sandwich that fits in your kidney meal plan.

Bread Selection

Some bread varieties are higher in sodium and phosphorus. When looking for a good bread option, read the food label to check the sodium content. Finding a bread option with less than 200 mg sodium per serving is a head-start in building a low-sodium sandwich. Also, making your sandwich at home can help to limit sodium. For example, one loaf bread option has 240 mg sodium for 2 slices. To compare, a 6-inch sub roll at a popular sandwich fast food restaurant has 340 mg sodium*. Additionally, some bread options may have more phosphorus. Watch for breads that contain phosphate additives. Breads that include nuts or seeds, whether inside the bread or on the crust are higher in phosphorus. However naturally occurring phosphorus is only partially absorbed. For a sandwich lower in sodium and carbohydrate, use thin sliced bread or try a piece of lettuce as a wrap instead of bread.

Protein Choices 

Protein on a sandwich helps fill you up. While deli meats such as sliced turkey, ham or roast beef are higher in sodium, some lunch meat options may have less sodium than others. Using 200 mg or less per serving as a rule of thumb can help. Additionally, some lunch meats may be injected with a preservative that contains phosphorus. Lunch meats that are advertised as being “natural” can be good choices. The “natural” lunch meats are less likely to contain phosphate additives. Highly processed lunch meats such as bologna, salami, pastrami or hot dogs should be limited or avoided. These processed lunch meats are higher in sodium and phosphorus. Also, some contain potassium additives. Homemade egg , tuna or chicken salad are great high protein options to add to a sandwich.

Vegetables

Vegetables add a nice crunch to your sandwich. They can also add vitamins, minerals, color and flavor. When on the lookout for sodium and phosphorus, stick to fresh vegetables. This means limiting sodium-leaden additions like olives or pickles. Lettuce or spinach, cucumbers, onion and even carrots have little to no sodium and pack the crunch factor.

Condiments

Condiments such as mayonnaise, mustard, salad dressings and other sauces add flavor to your sandwich. Mayonnaise is low in phosphorus and sodium, but will add calories and fat. On average 1 tablespoon of mayonnaise contains 90 calories, 10 grams of fat and 70 mg sodium.** Mustard, however, is a lower calorie, but higher sodium choice. To compare, 1 tablespoon of mustard has 10 calories, 0 g fat, but 110 mg sodium.** To keep sodium low stick to a teaspoon serving of mustard. Dressings and other sauces are also popular additions to sandwiches. Ranch dressing is commonly used as a condiment or dip for sandwiches. Ranch dressing contains 140 calories and 270 mg sodium per 2 tablespoons.** Making this homemade Ranch Dressing cuts sodium by 133 mg per 2 tablespoons compared to the bottled product.

Sandwiches are easy to make and provide calories, protein and nutrients. Sandwiches can be versatile and are easy to eat on-the-go. Some store-bought or fast food sandwiches may be less kidney-friendly. Making a sandwich at home can save money, time and may be a more healthful option.

Looking for a kidney-friendly beverage to go with your sandwich? Try one of our favorites:

Cucumber-Lemon Flavored Water

Ginger-Apple Sparkler (Espumoso de Jengibre y Manzana)

Lemon Cooler

Watermelon-Rosemary Flavored Water

*Comparison of Bimbo 100% whole wheat bread to Subway 6-inch Hearty Italian sub roll.

**Values use Walmart Stores brand mayonnaise, mustard and ranch dressing.

Brand names have been included in this material for educational purposes only. DaVita does not endorse one brand over another. There are other brands in addition to these that could be equivalent.

This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical advice or treatment. Consult your physician and dietitian regarding your specific diagnosis, treatment, diet and health questions.

Additional Kidney Diet Resources (heading)

Visit DaVita.com and explore these diet and nutrition resources:

DaVita Diet Helper online meal planner and tracker

DaVita Kidney-friendly recipes

Today’s Kidney Diet cookbooks

Diet and Nutrition articles

Kidney Smart® Classes taught by kidney experts in your area

This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical advice or treatment. Consult your physician and dietitian regarding your specific diagnosis, treatment, diet and health questions.

How to Make a Kidney-Friendly Sandwich published first on https://dietariouspage.tumblr.com/

[miniaturelovercollectionstuff]

Merril Myron Burgess

My Tribute to Dad (Merril Myron Burgess)

Written by his oldest daughter, Marilee Burgess Cook

Written maybe in 2009 and possibly earlier than that

I would like to start off by writing a poem for you, Dad, in commemoration of all of the great poems that you have written, especially for missionary farewells and homecomings over the years. Here it is

I am glad You are my dad.

You can keep that poem in your scrapbook and read it often in the upcoming years.

Now, I would like to mention “Twenty-five Reasons Why I Love Dad.

1. Dad likes to embarrass me. I remember going on my very first date and Dad asking the boy if he was a democrat or a republican and scaring him to death. I remember Dad tossing rolls across the table when Charles came to dinner at our house for the first time.

2. Dad is very competitive. I remember Dad drawing “the line” across the table during a game and saying “This is it. I’m going to win from now on.”

3. Dad is a basketball nut. I remember Dad teaching me how to be a stake basketball scorekeeper when I was only a Beehive and watching countless basketball games that he refereed or played in.

4. Dad took us camping. I remember Dad fishing with me at China Meadows. I remember Dad taking us to the sand dunes for the second day in a row instead of exploring because all of us kids begged him to. I remember Dad falling out of a tree when we were camping and playing hide-and-seek. I remember playing Becka with him.

5. Dad enjoys danger. I remember riding on the back of Dad’s motorcycle with him. I also remember that Dad always took steep, very scary dirt roads in the mountains or made his own road just for fun. Then he somehow always needed to turn around at a very narrow part next to a steep cliff.

6. Dad is brave. I remember Dad taking me to the Sizzler and talking to me about the facts of life before I got married.

7. Dad is compassionate. I remember Dad coming and getting me in Colorado and taking me home when I became so sick with my stomach problems. He entertained me and watched movies with me and gave me a great blessing in the car.

8. Dad is wise. I remember going to Dad when I had important decisions to make and always respecting his opinion and advice.

9. Dad is spiritual. I remember standing in the prayer circle with Dad when I got my endowments. I remember Dad baptizing me, confirming me, speaking at my mission farewell, being the witness at my wedding, and giving me countless priesthood blessings over the years. Dad has had many important callings and is a great bishop. He really cares about his ward members. He has had many great spiritual experiences throughout his life and most recently saved my life during a camping trip last summer.

10. Dad is scary. I remember Dad being in the bishopric when I was a teenager. Once he scared me half to death when he and Bishop Steve Cook followed me home at 2 a.m. I was coming home from working at McDonalds and they were coming back from some ward problem. I parked in front of the house and he parked behind me. I thought that some weirdo was stalking me and started honking the horn. Dad got out of the truck and came up to my window and I jumped a foot. He also always seemed to scare our cousins. He purposely thought of mean things to do to our dates to scare them and enjoyed it greatly.

11. Dad is fun. I remember Dad taking us to drive-in movies when I was very little. I remember Dad hitching up the trailer and meeting Charles and I at a rest stop for a surprise dinner for a girl’s choice dance. I remember working with Dad at the Wheel-In- Market and how he would by me a sandwich, chips, drink and a treat and we would go home very late at night and watch TV in his bedroom and eat. (Of course, I also remember getting locked in the ice machine while working there with him.) I remember working for Dad at Burgess Plumbing on occasion. I always liked it when we had to stop off at Plumber’s Supply and we got free donuts.. I remember playing many card games with Dad. We used to play Crazy Eights when we were camping and Mom was making breakfast. We also went through a Flinch phase and played game after game. He doesn’t ever let any of us win on purpose. We knew that if we happened to win a game then we were “GOOD”.. I remember Dad taking us on many, many camping trips and to Disneyland and to a hotel in Idaho. Dad used to say “Goodnight, sleeptight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Also, “I’ll tell you a story of George McGory and now my story’s begun. I’ll tell you another about his brother and now my story’s done.” He also told stories of Giant Scroogum and Billy. Dad is a good sport and has dressed up various times. I especially remember when he dressed up as a New Year’s baby on New Year’s Eve and worked at the Wheel-In Market. Dad loves to watch TV and he watched many shows with us when we were kids. For some reason I especially remember watching Perry Mason with him. I remember the many times that Dad pulled out the slides and we watched slides, ate popcorn, and laughed.

12. Dad is smart. I remember that Dad could always tell what each of his Christmas presents were just by feeling the wrapping paper. One time I cracked some nuts and wrapped up the nuts and the nut shells separately and he didn’t know what his presents were. I thought that I was very clever. I remember that hiding Dad’s Easter basket was always a challenge because he was so good at finding it. Once, Mark and I took some peaches Mom had canned off of the food storage shelf and hid his basket behind the bottles. He couldn’t find it. Dad seemed to be able to read the newspaper and watch TV at the same time and be able to always figure out the murder mysteries on TV before I could.

13. Dad is accident-prone. I remember Dad injuring himself in many ways: motorcycle accidents, electrocution, falling off of the roof, playing basketball, etc. I was the most scared when he got hit by our vehicle and a big truck which had hit our vehicle. When Dad dies, it will be the right time because Heavenly Father has worked so hard to keep him alive.

14. Dad is strong. I remember Dad coming to Matthew’s funeral and being a strength to me.

15. Dad is hard-working. I remember Dad working late many times so that we could have enough to eat, and clothes to wear and a house to live in.

16. Dad loves surprises.. I remember Dad always shopping for Mom on Christmas Eve and letting me wrap some of her presents. But I never knew about her “big” present. He was very creative and loved to surprise Mom. He always told us that if your present wasn’t a surprise then he’ll take it back.

17. Dad thinks like a lawyer. I remember Dad teaching me to question some of the things I was taught in seminary. He made me look up things and verify who taught them and when. I still do that today. I remember that if there was a big fight among us children he would get out the tape recorder and question us and tape our answers. Then he would play them back to us and make a judgment.

18. Dad is a fun grandpa. Dad pretends that my kids are his pillow when he visits. They always look forward to that. They also look forward to playing video games with Dad.

19. Dad used us kids for his own pleasure. I remember Dad having contests to see who could scratch his back the best.

20 Dad can’t cook. I remember that Dad could basically cook two things when I was growing up - hot dogs and fried eggs.

21. Dad is spontaneous. One of the things that I love about Dad is that he is spontaneous. Sometimes he would come home from work and announce that we were going on a trip or doing something fun that we didn’t expect.

22. Dad likes to sing only when we are driving. I used to love it when he sang “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” and “It Ain’t Gonna Rain No More.” And “Yes, We Have No Bananas, We Have No Bananas Today.”

23. Dad was generally the discipliner. I remember Dad pulling into the driveway and always thinking, “Am I doing anything that I could get in trouble for?” He used to spank us with his belt if we wet the bed or did something else wrong. . He didn’t hit us very hard but I made sure I cried loudly so that I wouldn’t get hit harder.

24. Dad is a perfect bus driver. He loves to talk to people, he loves to drive, and he hasn’t slept well for years anyway so he’s used to not getting a lot of sleep.

25. Dad is the greatest dad that anyone could ever have. I am very lucky to have his love and influence in my life. I love him with all my heart.

Love, Marilee

[lindafrancois]

How to Make a Kidney-Friendly Sandwich

The lunch meal is a popular time to have a sandwich. Sandwiches are easy to make and don’t take long to prepare. In the dialysis setting, sandwiches are a popular item to eat before or after dialysis treatment. Sandwiches that are low in sodium and phosphorus, plus limit potassium are a great fit with the kidney diet. But, how do you make a kidney -friendly sandwich? Continue reading to explore the components of a healthy sandwich that fits in your kidney meal plan.

Bread Selection

Some bread varieties are higher in sodium and phosphorus. When looking for a good bread option, read the food label to check the sodium content. Finding a bread option with less than 200 mg sodium per serving is a head-start in building a low-sodium sandwich. Also, making your sandwich at home can help to limit sodium. For example, one loaf bread option has 240 mg sodium for 2 slices. To compare, a 6-inch sub roll at a popular sandwich fast food restaurant has 340 mg sodium*. Additionally, some bread options may have more phosphorus. Watch for breads that contain phosphate additives. Breads that include nuts or seeds, whether inside the bread or on the crust are higher in phosphorus. However naturally occurring phosphorus is only partially absorbed. For a sandwich lower in sodium and carbohydrate, use thin sliced bread or try a piece of lettuce as a wrap instead of bread.

Protein Choices 

Protein on a sandwich helps fill you up. While deli meats such as sliced turkey, ham or roast beef are higher in sodium, some lunch meat options may have less sodium than others. Using 200 mg or less per serving as a rule of thumb can help. Additionally, some lunch meats may be injected with a preservative that contains phosphorus. Lunch meats that are advertised as being “natural” can be good choices. The “natural” lunch meats are less likely to contain phosphate additives. Highly processed lunch meats such as bologna, salami, pastrami or hot dogs should be limited or avoided. These processed lunch meats are higher in sodium and phosphorus. Also, some contain potassium additives. Homemade egg , tuna or chicken salad are great high protein options to add to a sandwich.

Vegetables

Vegetables add a nice crunch to your sandwich. They can also add vitamins, minerals, color and flavor. When on the lookout for sodium and phosphorus, stick to fresh vegetables. This means limiting sodium-leaden additions like olives or pickles. Lettuce or spinach, cucumbers, onion and even carrots have little to no sodium and pack the crunch factor.

Condiments

Condiments such as mayonnaise, mustard, salad dressings and other sauces add flavor to your sandwich. Mayonnaise is low in phosphorus and sodium, but will add calories and fat. On average 1 tablespoon of mayonnaise contains 90 calories, 10 grams of fat and 70 mg sodium.** Mustard, however, is a lower calorie, but higher sodium choice. To compare, 1 tablespoon of mustard has 10 calories, 0 g fat, but 110 mg sodium.** To keep sodium low stick to a teaspoon serving of mustard. Dressings and other sauces are also popular additions to sandwiches. Ranch dressing is commonly used as a condiment or dip for sandwiches. Ranch dressing contains 140 calories and 270 mg sodium per 2 tablespoons.** Making this homemade Ranch Dressing cuts sodium by 133 mg per 2 tablespoons compared to the bottled product.

Sandwiches are easy to make and provide calories, protein and nutrients. Sandwiches can be versatile and are easy to eat on-the-go. Some store-bought or fast food sandwiches may be less kidney-friendly. Making a sandwich at home can save money, time and may be a more healthful option.

Looking for a kidney-friendly beverage to go with your sandwich? Try one of our favorites:

Cucumber-Lemon Flavored Water

Ginger-Apple Sparkler (Espumoso de Jengibre y Manzana)

Lemon Cooler

Watermelon-Rosemary Flavored Water

*Comparison of Bimbo 100% whole wheat bread to Subway 6-inch Hearty Italian sub roll.

**Values use Walmart Stores brand mayonnaise, mustard and ranch dressing.

Brand names have been included in this material for educational purposes only. DaVita does not endorse one brand over another. There are other brands in addition to these that could be equivalent.

This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical advice or treatment. Consult your physician and dietitian regarding your specific diagnosis, treatment, diet and health questions.

Additional Kidney Diet Resources (heading)

Visit DaVita.com and explore these diet and nutrition resources:

DaVita Diet Helper online meal planner and tracker

DaVita Kidney-friendly recipes

Today’s Kidney Diet cookbooks

Diet and Nutrition articles

Kidney Smart® Classes taught by kidney experts in your area

This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical advice or treatment. Consult your physician and dietitian regarding your specific diagnosis, treatment, diet and health questions.

How to Make a Kidney-Friendly Sandwich published first on https://dietariouspage.tumblr.com/