#i am obsessed with the idea of sharing tangerines as a love language

[metamorphesque]

... peeling oranges this ... sharing tangerines that ... what about cutting and de-seeding pomegranates for the ones you love? the ruby stains on your fingers ... fleeting proofs of your undying devotion ...

[cherrywineandroses]

Perhaps love is just eating strawberries with your favorite person or peeling tangerines for someone you love. Perhaps, love is stored in understanding someone or it's stored in holding hands. Perhaps, love is just stored in watching TV together on a Sunday night.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Shiny offering

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji Series - NSFW The small favor

A/N IMPORTANT: I am the little weirdo who's like crows and though that a pirate with a crow would be really cool. So, I'm really sorry if you're scare of bird, but I hope you will find the story funny because I have a lot of fun with it and my new obsession for this man.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

If you enjoy my story please let me know.

---

Sanji never had a particular interest in birds. At least not living ones. Once featherless, beheaded and ready to be cooked. He, of course, has a lot of thoughts and recipes about how to prepare them, each idea more delicious than the other. 

But, as the Crow expanded his wings and flew above him for the fifth time that day. He started to wonder if the black bird meat would taste more like chicken and then, be better in a rotisserie kind of dish, or would it be surprisingly more delicate, like the duck. 

A mystery he would probably never know even if he could. Or if he did, not with this precise bird. Because, even if the blond never had a thought about the feathered animal, he has a lot of interest in you and, as irritating as it is, your crow seems to dislike him as much as Zoro does. 

He didn’t attack him directly of course, you would never let this happen. 

Yet, if Sanji is too close to you when you're all on the deck or if you share a moment alone with the cook. The damn winged dinosaur never missed a beat stealing his, lite or not, cigarette that was in his hand or between his lips.

The bird has often even tried to take his ring, but, to this day, never succeeded. However his favorite target was his blonde hair. Golden straw that he could pick few at the time between his beck before flying away as quickly as he could. 

Everytime, as you tried without success to not laugh. Biting your lips in that charming way he liked so much. You assure him that Deimos didn’t really hate him, he was  just a little bit too protective or attracted to the shiny thing on his person. Like humans he needs time to adjust to new people. 

“ I understand Madam, but I don’t see stealing Zoro shinny earring neither and that be a show I would love to see “ He once replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone, massaging the sore spot on his head where Deimos had took three of his hair.

“Well, Zoro didn’t have hair similar to pretty rays of sunshine, that’s for sure and I honestly don’t know, they seem to already be best buddy that kinda funny “ You said, your gaze fixed on the strange duo that was Zoro and your pet, napping in a hammock between two Tangerine trees. 

“ That because they have something in common, they both hate me that’s why” 

“ You know, Crows love to collect things who shine and offer them to their partner or their favorite human. Once a crow trusts you, he or his children never forget you, they have a memory that they extend to their children for generations and they will always return to you. It’s amazing”  

“ Then Madam it seem that I will be hate for generation “       

It has been almost five months now that you were a member of the crew and the relentless animal didn’t stop. Although, Sanji couldn’t forget that conversation that you had about those damn birds offering shining things to the person they affectionate. The way you smiled, the gleam in your eyes as if you were sharing that fun fact like if it was a romantic story. Even if it was an anodin moment, he couldn’t forget how perfect you were. Relax, your arm crossed on the railing of the upper deck in the soft light of the morning. 

It wasn’t a secret that the blondie fell for you at the minute that he saw you. He had tried to flirt as much as he could, challenged your taste buds by making you his best dishes and even switched his generic “Madam” for a warmer nickname “ mon coeur”. A sweet name he uses, usually as often as he calls himself the Best Cook of the East blue. 

“ Mon coeur, do you want a kind of food in particular for supper ?” 

“ Be careful Mon coeur, the tea is hot” 

“ You see Mon coeur, one day I will see the All Blue and I will explore it with you ”  

But, nothing had seemed to enlighten your comprehension about his intention. Of course, a more direct approach would give him an immediate answer, still, like in his cooking, Sanji liked a more slow and progressive approche.

It was when thinking about his next move that the strange event occurred.

Busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for his famous beef stew, the man suddenly heard a metallic noise, like a utensil falling on the floor. As a chef, it wasn't uncommon, but since he was alone in the room and all his instruments were in front of him, it was indeed, really strange. It was only after his gaze had scanned the room that he finally saw it. 

Perched on the side of the table, under the open window, the dark bird, a spoon in his beck, was watching the floor where a solitary fork was laying.

“ Oh no sir, this place is my domain you will not ruin it, get out” He exclaimed, not without thinking of how ridiculous he must look, talking at this bird like if he was a rude client of the Baratie.

For answer, Deimos only croak once, jumps between two potatoes just in front of him, turns his onyx head on the side and then, under the blue glare of the men, drops the polished spoon. 

The eating tool in itself wasn’t really special, unless the fact that it had been lost two weeks ago, along the fallen fork of course.   

“ Oh so now you steal my utensil. My hair and my smoke wasn’t enough ?” Sanji sighs before reaching for the discarded silver instrument. 

For answer, the crow slowly approached his head to the metallic object and started to admire his own smaller reflection before taking his fly, exiting the kitchen.

Coming back after less than five minutes later, this time with a shimmering shell and one of Nami small hair clips. Same as the spoon, he gently drops them in front of the blonde man, tilling his head, like he is waiting for something.

Like said before, Sanji never had a soft spot for birds, but he had a fond memory of that conversation with you about the way they express their affection. So, little by little, as he watched one by one the glittery, polish, shimmery stuff your crow just bought him, two realizations struck him. First, the damn feathers dinosaur has finally taken a liking for him and second he finally knew how to show you how dear you are in his eyes. 

“ Well, I almost regret now that I imagine you many times in my oven. I admit that you don't seem that bad alive now…thank you” Sanji smiled, putting the stew on the stove, letting it cook and before starting collecting the item for his new plan.   

It was only a long time after dinner that he could put his said plan in action. With a little help from his now winged friend.

As the Going Merry was lazily crossing the water, Sanji was still again in the kitchen, preparing diverse elements. To citrus marinade for supper the next day, to dry leaf for future recipes.  

Nevertheless, he was ready when the flap of the wing followed by footsteps could be heard near his area.  

Deimos was the first to enter the kitchen, taking his now usual place in the left corner of the kitchen island, your bracelet still on his beck. Close by a few steps, you enter at his pursuit, stopping only when you seen the strange show that was the gorgeous chef ,slowly busy pressing a lemon and your large pet, sharing the same space without apparent bickering.

“ Hi Sanji, sorry to barge in there like that. Deimos feels apparently playful today, he stole my bracelet. But look at you both, you finally bound as I can see” You joyfully said, taking a seat in front of the kitchen island. 

“ Hello Mon coeur, well as you can see we came to an arrangement if I can call it that. " Sanji replied, pulling an almond from his pocket and giving it to the bird as he rescued your bracelet “ But I’m grateful that he bring you here now, I also had something for you, a special dessert”  

Turning his back from you for a minute, missing the long glance you give to his perfect ass in his tailored pants, you smile. You weren't stupid, in fact, you were particularly smart. Even if you didn’t understand why Usopp had taken a habit of joking about the fact that you seem blind to love. 

You had noticed the blonde chef the first day on this boat and since then, had developpe what Nami had called a “crush” on him. What’s not love about him ? You like the way he calls you Mon coeur making yours fluster, the way his smile reaches his eyes every time he talks about food and of course the fact that he was always so kind with you. But never you would push those thoughts on him, no, it seems that all his love was for food and as long as you live you will respect that.

The first thing you saw after the blondie had put the bowl in front of you was the beauty of the presentation. Served in a plain white bowl, a delicate pale lilac ice cream was piled, decorated with colorful berries that automatically make your mouth water.

However it wasn’t the berries who’s most caught your eyes. Coating there the side of a raspberry, there in a few pieces the side of the cold cream, there floating lazily like if it were on a river, small gold flakes was highlighting the sweet, giving it the allure of a masterpiece. 

“ Homemade lavender ice cream with berries assorted with flakes of edible gold “ Sanji proudly present, your favorite smile on his lips. “ I had the idea when we were talking about crows and their habit of giving their partner or…favorite person…shiny things” He lied. Never would he admit to you that your bird, trying to fancy him, gave him the idea.  Never on his chef corpse.

“ Sanji, that’s almost too beautiful to eat. The colors, the sweet smell , the…glittery gold” You admiratively said, your joy suddenly catching up with the realization of what he had just said. 

You were his favorite person. 

Lifting at the same time your gaze and the spoon, you take a small amount of the ice cream and taste his declaration of love. 

Just like him it was amazing. Sweet, refreshing and addictive. 

“ So...is that to your liking ? “ He inquired after a small moment, unsure if you taken your time to enjoy the dessert or trying to find a delicate way to put him down. 

“ It’s the best thing I ever tasted, here take a bite “ You offer, lifting the silverware at the level of his mouth. 

Taking your offering, your gaze lock on each other, you both couldn’t repress your smile as he let slip the head of the spoon out of his mouth. 

“ Definitely one of my be…” He couldn’t finish. 

His tie caught on your fist, his torso inclined and supported by his strong arms above the kitchen island. Your cold lips had suddenly crashed against his, taking him off guard and at the same time his breath away. 

Sanji, still ,quickly catch up. Adjusting his position to support the back of your head with one of his hands. He slightly brushes his tongues against your sugary lips, savoring them like a peculiar delicacy. But, as your tongue met, exploring and dancing against each other in a french ritual. He became more and more greedy of your lips, throwing away his usual self control at the first hearing of your panting breath. 

Still trapped in the warm embrace of his lips, enjoying the contrast of his warm tongue against your ice cream cold one, you suddenly heard a groan pronounced by none of you. 

“ Great, now the waiter will stop looking like a love sick puppy. But did you really have to expose us to that ?”

Breaking the kiss, you gave a glance at the door where Zoro, his arm crossed on his chest, was rolling his eyes, clearly already done with both of you. 

Biting your lips of embarrassment you still couldn’t prevented, neither Sanji at it seem, to smile. 

“ Nevermind. Come on black chicken “ He calls your bird, who, now used to it ,goes perch himself on one of his shoulders. Before quitting the doorframe to disappear into the ship “ I have to clean my blade and I know they are not clean enough until you watch your reflection in it. “ 

Laughing at the incongruous friendship of the Swordsman and your pet. You returned your attention to Sanji, another tea spoon of ice cream in his hand.

“I’m sorry” You apologize, still laughing. 

“ No need to be embarrassed Mon coeur “ He smile, regaining as it seem, his composure

“ No, I mean, now I don’t know what I prefer between the dessert or your kisses “ 

Taken aback, Sanji slowly smiles, deposing a small kiss on your lips. 

“ Then why not enjoy them both together…I will gladly supply it every time you ask for it”

Smiling you then proceeded to enjoy the delicious cold dessert and the body warm contrast for the rest of the day and more.  

Bonus : 

Not that Sanji was ashamed to tell you, no. But, even after a year after the event of the offering silverware et other shiny knick-knacks.

He still had, hide behind a pile of pots, the many items brought to him, along the years, by Deimos. Because, even after all this, he was still the reason why you were finally in his arms at night and yes, he had to admit it, he had kind of come to like it, that damn bird. 

[strvwberryblcnde]

👫 teddy/lana

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons i have about our muses’ relationship.

ok so. lana has a habit of sharing food as one of her many love languages i think. she jst likes.... giving ppl things even if it means she’ll have less. she’d let a wolf make a meal out of her n eat every last piece if she loved him n she knew he’d feel full. bt of everyone i feel like teddy hs always been the one she does this w most.... like even when they first met in the cafeteria she gave him spoonfuls of her greek yogurt n honey. whenever she’s eating fruit (which is a lot she’s obsessed w strawberries n peaches n grapes n tangerines n oranges) she’ll ALWAYS give him half whether tht’s segmenting up pieces or dividing bites evenly between them n Without Fail it’ll always b half tht she gives him whereas she might give other ppl like.... a bite or a piece or two bt......... it’s rly specific each time tht she gives teddy half. it isn’t even intentional it’s jst like a subconscious thing bt if we were to slide on spectacles n analyse this in an english class fr it’s Meaning then. looks at u then looks away. i think this represents the way tht teddy hs always felt like another half of her. they’re one in the same. in a lot of ways they’re very similar mayb even................ TOO similar n that’s why it’s been sch a fking.... bastard of trying to work things out ever bc they very much hv the same rampant commitment issues n bad timing n fears of never being gd enough. i feel like in the past a guy she ws dating (noncommittally as lana tended to do these things) wld have even noticed this n it would have bugged him a lot just like... how close she was w teddy in general............. n he would’ve one day brought it up in the middle of a fight he’d picked jst cutting away from what they were talking abt to be like. u only ever give me one bite but u would give teddy all of it if he asked u to. tell me i’m wrong. n she’d scoff out a laugh in disbelief looking around like omg...... all this over a fruit...... what are u even sa-- n he’d cut her off n be like. literally tell me i’m wrong lana. n she wouldn’t even b able to after going quiet n rly realising what it was he was actually Saying. he’d storm out. relationship over. icons of always being a little bit in love w each other n not even noticing it until someone else points it out <3

god. sighs dramatically at the idea i jst had. i cn imagine in la verse lana being rly drunk getting bk from a date one time n inevitably it was just some random loser since she’s back to dating Trash in this era bc she just truly cbas trying after her breakup w dom n............. it would be like a parallel to tht one time they’d fallen out over him sleeping w imogen when she ws upset w him bt crawled into his bed drunk at a party just to lie w him for a little while despite everything...... she wld have gone to his instead of hers on some drunken automatic pilot n somehow got into his room n..... she’d clamber in n flop nxt to him n maybe it wld be funny at first if he woke up n was like lana what the fk...... are u doing here.... so disorientated n confused.......... n she’d just be joking initially bt very clearly drunk like making fun of her date talking abt how he kept complimenting his own hair n calling himself a tesla in a sea of prius’ n checking himself out in every window they passed n then the laughter wld slowly trickle off n she’d go kind of quiet fr a moment n maybe teddy wld assume she ws passing out bc she’d drank sm bt after a short silence she’d perk up with a mumble out of nowhere n, barely conscious of what she’s saying, b like “why didn’t u wait for me like u said u would”. n if he was like.............. huh? she’d have her eyes shut n just b murmuring half awake then open them sleepily to look at him n rly quietly be like........ “u promised”. mayb she’d even reach out to gingerly trace his face bt then her wrist wld go slack bc she was rly tired n she’d just wriggle closer n tuck her head to get comfy n be like “warm” then promptly fall asleep. JSGSFKGHFHGKHGSFKH. literally jst jolting him awake w this rarely serious n genuine conversation then passing out. jst the worst fk teddy’s life bet he lay there staring at the ceiling fr so long after tht one <3 lana wouldn’t remember this in the morning either she’d wake up like why am i here........ did we meet up last night............ teddy jst like >_> u crashed here it was nbd.

i picture the first week they moved to LA lana wldn’t have admitted it bt she wld be feeling rly homesick............ radcliffe was very much like the first place she truly felt was her home n she’d miss all of the ppl there n just the general area A Lot............. one night i can see her jst wanting to spend with teddy to have like a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar city (even if she’s spent a decent amt of time there over the yrs bc of jameson records hving studios etc bt still) n i’m imagining them like. breaking into an indoor swimming complex that her n her friends in high skl used to break into in the summers when they vacationed yrs ago.... maybe lana still has a key cut tht works from a connection she made bk then idk <3 it doesn’t matter <3 n they’d inevitably be drunk n just messing around n splashing each other n doing handstand competitions n all the typical..... fun frivolous childish antics lana n teddy tend to get into whenever they’re around each other.... truly jst transformed into big kids whenever they’re in the other’s company..... inspired a little by this gifset jst in terms of the playing around underwater vibe. anyway. mayb they mostly dry off bt they end up climbing up onto the rooftop after n it’s a baking summer night anyway so it isn’t like they’ll catch a cold being damp bt they share a big fluffy towel n bottle of rum between them huddled overlooking the lights of the city. n maybe somehow it gets onto lana admitting how much she misses home n how it’s kind of weird being here especially bc she’s further from caleb. she’s never been this far from him since he was away in the army n we all kno hw tht turned out. mayb she’d go a bit quiet after saying this bt then i think she’d take his hand w their fingers laced together n she’d rest her head on his shoulder n be like. at least i’ll always have u. it’s like i took a piece of home w me. we’ve always had each other like that. then she’d perk up n lift her head n be like let’s make a deal. i’ll be ur home if u’ll be mine. ok? n make him pinky promise. i dnt think she’d quite consider the sentimentality in tht bt 😔 she nvr rly does she jst says what feels natural without attention paid to the deeper meaning tht motivated it n.... sighs. looks at u then looks away....

this is inspired by tht scene in don’t trust the b in apartment 23 where she’s like “look. that video of me getting rawed by my best friend means the world to me.” KJGFGJKSFHKGHKSFGHKFSHKGSHGK god. inevitably in lana n teddy’s prime when they were literally hooking up 24/7 in earlier college yrs they made.............. a few videos. i mean it’s jst realistic. it’s jst common sense. probably even a feature length film at one point. n i had this idea where bc teddy’s trying to get into acting etc mayb if he gets an agent his agent is like.... do u have any dirt u need to take care of? loose ends to tie up? incriminating files to delete? sex tapes? n if he was like... ya..... mayb his agent wld have asked him to delete them if he still had them on his computer or w.e i mean i kno lana wld n wouldn’t have deleted them she wld have been proud of their work of art...... bt maybe he told lana abt this just laughing abt it n the atmosphere ws lighthearted at first bc she’d find it rly funny too like ommmmggggggg i’m a skeleton in ur closet tht is so fun if u get famous i cld be blasted all over perez hilton that’s kind of sexy..... bt............... mayb she’d as a joke be like. mayb we shld watch it one last time before u delete it. kind of like a funeral service. a goodbye party. sailing out the flaming viking raft n paying our respects u know??? n they were joking bk n forth bt then she’d be like. seriously tho mayb we should? growing more accustomed to the idea actually being a genuine one even tho tht is fking. the WORST idea i have EVER heard in the world like i do NOT know how lana wld think she has the self control to do that bt in her head she’s like. teddy n i are jst best friends now... it’s fine........... we’re open w each other it’s just a bit of fun.......... n then i can imagine if he went along w this it’s like a game of chicken they’re playing w each other where they’re both like fking hell shd we do this.... dnt wna seem like I’M the one tht thinks i can’t handle it........ n it’s some back n forth like nick n jess in new girl where they’re daring each other to have the threeway w the landlord. bt then like not even.... a minute into watching it as they’re both silently holding their breath n crunching popcorn they mde for the occasion (insisting on acting like it ws just a normal movie night) lana wld literally have to be like. slams laptop shut. UMMMM i forgot.... i....... have a very important meeting......... n teddy’s just like. meeting? u don’t have a job... what are u ta-- n she’s like A MEETING A VERY IMPORTANT MEETING...... very blatantly squirming around as she slowly gets up n tries to head fr the door... n teddy’s like.... taking the excuse without much question too like... ya i have to run lines actually i jst remembered gt an audition coming up..... n they’re both like ya haha... maybe some other time.... or maybe just delete it it’s whatever.... anyway we gtg haha... bye.... ttyl...... lana wld literally hv to SPRINT out of there to go home n. deal w how flustered this made her i won’t lie. she bumps into parker n is all flushed in the face n is just like CAN’T TALK BYE n takes off sprinting again like some kind of freak. it’d b a train wreck. i jst think that’d b rly funny tho n dare i say it? it’s canon. 

[orpheusterminals]

Tobacco and other Consumable Ash Residue, of Cigarettes, Cigars and Pipes for Forensic Criminology by Sherlock Holmes

..I am thinking of writing this book you are reading, I am going to call it:

Tobacco and other Consumable Ash Residue, of Cigarettes, Cigars and Pipes for Forensic Criminology by Sherlock Holmes

The Secrets of the Empire of the Nine, Revealed !

or

( the Further Adventures of Frank Fuckface edited by Iason Ragnar Bellerophon.) 

Part Two: Straight outta The White Feathered Octopus

2017© Tetragrammatron Press

(cue Cavemanrobot holding up the DODECATRON logo, by Biscuit Boy, Britton Walters)

Beautiful Greenberg, Monumenta, New Korpoils, The Untitled Snakes of Assyria, Helios Three, Sol, Milky Way, The Red Universe, Oversoul Seven.

As of right NOW! Here it is…

THAR SHE BLOWS, Tis a piny she’ a whore!

When we last left our hero, Jace the Ace, the original soulseeker, he was sitting on a love seat in a small Ape-artment in Beautiful Greenberg, with his 71 year old one legged father, they had both just spilt a bottle of Gato One Eye Wine, and 40oz. Of magic mushrooms….

A event it was Bellerophon was to term: The White Feathered Octopus.

This is the peak of the movie talking about Danny Kaye in Wonderman!

It explains everything!

Post War World Two, healing would the mind and the heart

The thinker and the clown!

What is this trick photography, YES IT IS!

Two-way ticket, the 4-d man, the clown is the trickerts-

No telling what I can do when I learn the ropes,

Oh what a set up when I wasted all that time living

The secrets of life were solid for a dime (nothing a symbolic boon at best) they offer all the various – lustful, muses each a color of the rainbow, the young lover pulls upon them all, the solution, the soul union, to finding love either getting the man you want to notice you or to find new lover or both is to be polyamorius to play the field, not just with love, Song of Solomon, to play the field of life to explore all the different kinds of being you can be, mother, lover, whore, child, wife, ex-wife, monster, body, object, image. With young man falling before you. That will instill lust in your true love to struggle to then win you, or die trying

The Perpetual Grinning Giantess

Okay, get up, push your hands down on the rug, flip over, on the knees, Arch the back, strech out back, Arch again, PAIN!, tight exhausted doing nothing calf muscle, PAIN!, up on your feet, Broken Wagon wheel feeling, pivot, push forward, thought the apartment, Dad there in his chair so bored, now so delighted that I am coming thought the kitchen over to him. It is maybe 10, I don’t know 10:20? Dad could not wait for me to make coffee, he have has been able to figure out how to use the espresso maker, so instead I see what is left of his Cowboy Coffee.

Recipe for Cowboy Coffee

Two tablespoons of coffee grounds

Pour directly into a small cooking pot

Drop in One Cup of Water

Do not mix!

Heating until boil and continue to boil until contents have boiled over leaving burnt grounds chemically bonded forever in the porcelain stove top

Hysterically pour directly into whatever vessel you can find regardless of cleanliness, the mug you left overnight with 4 or 5 tea bags from last night will work nicely, or the Pyrex measuring cup, or a soup bowl, our take a slightly smaller cooking pot and pour it in there, just do it NOW!

Drop in an ice cube, drop the tray still filled with more ice onto the floor and kick it under the stove.

Add one to fifteen packs of the cheapest imitation sugar to taste

Drink one scalding sip, then let sit till ice cold, then dump into sink.

Piss in the mug, and hide it behind the chair

Forget about it, then a few days from now kick the mug over with enough force to cause it to be smashed to more manageable bits

And That’s Cowboy Coffee, enjoy.

Without saying a word, I go straight into the shower, PAIN! Find the Monkey Wretch we use to turn the hot water on with, the knob fell off a few weeks ago, I would ask the landlord to fix it, but since we are behind in the rent it makes it awkward. PAIN!

Get the water really HOT, turn off the lights, in the in shower, now down onto my knees, pressing my feet hard against the surface of the tub near the drain. PAIN!

Arching my back, arms under my frame for support, pushing and pulling my next, compressing my spine, sucking in my gut, as tight and I can, release and again and again. IN the Dark, IN the Steam, eye shut tight, making a pillow with my hands, how else would anyone make any pillow of any kind without their hands? The inner surface of my eyelids, opens up to a long subterranean florescent hallway, I am following a pleasing figure slightly in front of me, I am enjoying my point of view.

The Perpetual Grinning Giantess, who is a fusion of past girlfriends, a buxom, dark haired beauty with amalgamated features, in a thick tangerine turtle neck, and short pelted wool skirt, with knee high matching Clementine stockings, finds me in a dark corridor and taking my hand leads me down into a takes me to the underground bunker, that I always knew would be at my disposable if I need it. Actually it is a palace, long halls, tapestries, modernist sculptures and fountains.

The Giantess leads me to where the strange weapons, ornate armor, and incomprehensible gizmos, taken from other worlds, are stored. The orange paint job on the concrete brick walls of the armory matches her heaving sweater. And we joke about it. She speaks in a rhythmic sing-song manner with left field code words dovetailing the ends, and cresting the middle of her sentences. It was as if she was trying to teach me a code, or perhaps an alternative language that happened to use the same words as English but with different meanings, or both those things.

Suddenly I notice that there is a book in the back of the armory, behind glass. The giantess explains to me that it was the one last book in this world. All the others were destroyed. It is a thick old fashion book kept enshrined upon a pillow. Making a corny Ray Bradbury joke, I asked if it was Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allen Poe.

The Giantess, looked at me with a blank stare and said it was, Tobacco and other Consumable Ash Residue, of Cigarettes, Cigars and Pipes for Forensic Criminology by Sherlock Holmes. As if I was foolish to think it could be any other book.

With a careful single motion she touched a tiny button on the side of the book’s pedestal, and glass, or what I thought was glass, instantly turned to cool steam flying away from the book. The whole bunker filled with a strong whiff of thick dust, that smell that only an old book can provide.

But, what a book! “May I?”

“Jugular! If justice is done, please just be careful, here use these gloves to turn the pages..”

I suppose the closest thing I could compare to the book would be the Voynich manuscript, Which I had been allowed to see when I was a grad student. This book seemed even more cryptic, page after page of elaborate diagrams of smoke, smokers, pipes, hookahs, and the various plants they are harvested from, but text was equally filled with wirework half-see through people, animals, and monsters. All of it appeared to be cross-connected with astronomical bodies; suns, moons, and stars of astronomy and astrology. One series of 78 diagrams depicts unconventional drawings for the zodiacal constellations from around the world ( a Winged Minotaur carrying a giant stone covered in dozen of human eye ball for Taurus, an eight legged centaur with a mane of fire and ice, brandishing a crossbow for Sagittarius, The Vedic Head of the Demon depicted as a man with a puppet on a stick riding a toad, a male and female pair of mere-people in coitis within a golden egg for Pisces, you get the idea).

There where different bevels running down the pages of the text block, so that fingers could easily find categories. In a section that appeared to cover geography I have a dozens different Maps of the earth, the largest of which folded-out in a special section of the book in one dived poster page, gingerly opening my six foot six inches arm span up to reveal a shockingly detailed chart of a planet called Helios Three, in the lower middle right of the map, the entire known land masses of our earth were represented as a tiny chain of islands the size of Hawaii all sharing the label Mundania, surrounded by quaint old timey sea-serpents, mostly hybrids of screaming women with hydra similar to classic allegorical images of Sin personified, in an area called the Internos Ocean, on a awesomely gargantuan orb filled to accommodate vast super-continents with labels that I could roughly translate as Atlemuriatis, Prospero’s Lillblefuscuiput, Ozqbar, and Xanthadu.

I laughed “This is an amazing document, a work of art onto itself, whoever made it really put their all into it, but Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, he is not a real person, it is a common misunderstanding that inspired this Obsessive Prankster.”

The Giantess, saw and raised my laugh, with a slightly perturbed “Blacktail! You have made a blunder!, Doyle, that asshole? He was a puppet, an actor! Adfluxion, the account is full of errors! WE hired him to distract the general populous! I don’t know what Sherlock saw in that empty headed chowderhead, that hapless little man believed in ghosts! Modishly, a mismanaged affair.

I asked her what she meant by that, was there something in the text besides the new revealed to be real Holmes’ study of tobacco ash, she said yes. The she made a joke herself, with a slightly different smile, a sexy twist in the curve of her lips,

she said. “Rollable, your request is unreasonable, I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you.”

“Okay, ha!” hoping over to a sturdy looking cot with a rainbow of earth tone striped wool blanket atop it and now under by backside. “ So Holmes, was an actual person, like some sort of Wold Newtonian idea.”

“World Newtonian, Cellar, the cheaper the better?” as she subtly shifted her weight to from on elaborately combat booted basketball size cafe muscle to the other, to align herself askew with a tilt of her solid fetching jawline.

Reaching over and strapping, what I thought were binoculars over my eyes, “No Wold, as in a meteorite which fell in Wold Newton, Yorkshire, England, on December 13, 1795” after a bit of fiddling the switches I found on their side, binoculars warmly activate with a peachy hum. “Which gave rise to an obscured piece of pulp fiction fandom, that plays around with ideas about fictional characters being secretly retold stories of real adventurers.”

A rush of colors and hydrographic information filled my eyes, I was seeing the world based upon the about of water that exist within objects. Glancing over to the book was blank save for tiny dancing golden stars, The Giantess however, towering over me a now a swirling sea of turquoise, teal, and white poured at lightspeed into her skin, with the thickness and shape of a clear emerald old timey cola bottle now slightly larger than human scale, with faint flakes of tulip and melon pulsating at constellations filled with a zoo of tiny totem creatures, where her organs must be, as flares shoot off from the end points of her circulation. What was once and will soon again be her hand reaches over to my face, thousands of carnation and cream carrousels being patrolled by squadrons of invisible sea lions, swim up through her fingertips. She looked like one of the drawings in the manuscript, only brought into shock clarity. I thought to tell her, but I figured she must already know that.

“He called it a supernova of genetic splendor”.

Pulling the hydroculars off my face, with a genteel grimace, her ample right breast brushing against my raised up left knee for an ecstatic second, “Who is He? And where did you hear about this?”

“Oh sorry, I did that classic male thing, and just spoke as if you could read my mind! He is Philip Jose Farmer, that writer I told you about before, he put forth the idea that the meteorite was radioactive and caused beneficial genetic mutations in those exposed to it. That is the fun in Farmer, he plays fast and loose with the facts working them into his fiction. It really could have been anything, ties in with The Golden Fleece, Holy Grail, Super Solider Serum, a oddball device so that heroes can be spawned from mortal men, gives the reader, the slimmest of chances that there might be a….”

“Mustard Seed of Truth?” she completed the words for me, then added “Enringed, the news causes great excitement!”

As my eye re-adjusts to the cold light of the room, I ask myself if I really needed to start talking about pulp fiction fandom, and related nonsense, along with rattling off way too much information to a kind girl that is just being sweet and listening, because your starting to date one another.

The Professor, The Know it All, those are strong impulses in me, I think it is a direct result of feeling stupid in school, being labeled “learning disabled”, knowing that you are smart, but being treated like you have shit for brains, brings out the need to prove it, prove hard and fast. When you’re a larger man than average, it does not help either, people will just assume that if you are big, and my big I mean fat and tall, that you are also mentally retarded.

Such is life, right, we all have our crosses to bear, even a Bear.

But I am who I am and that stuff is important to me, the sabertooth is out of the bag.

Pushing a series of thin sliver bracelet up her wrist, “Well, actually Sherlock was just his code name, No Holmes was real! Expect was really your ancestor, Dr. Joseph Bell, who hand picked Doyle when, he had worked for Bell as a clerk at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary.”

“The E.R.I.?” making a joke, as if I was already familiar with so random war hospital, “Whoa, there sunshine, what are you talking about? huunnnnunun!” I said with my nervous laugh dancing up behind my words. “Why, would he do that? For what purpose?” pushing pass her, walking about over to the book again.

“In order that to better hide the knowledge, of course!. If it were not for him and the wisdom he encoded in this book all would be lost! If this book fell into the hands of most people they would think it was perhaps a prop from a theatrical production, or the ravings of a nutjob at best. Probably the poor soul would just burn it for kindling.”

The great burden of it all on her face, a afternoon shadow falling indoors onto hard wood floors.

“ That is why you are here, Jason, it is all here in the book, ever wonder why you would even know about some hairbrained pastime like that Fig Newton, or whatever you called that Grail stone! To get you ready for this day, this moment everyday there are new entries on the blank pages, new diagrams, new recipes! He did something to the ink, so that it would appear bit by bit, as if it is a clock, the book is alive and has a time delay for information. So far I have figured out that much, and that when he is talking about smoke is does not mean smoke, he means the residue of activity all human activity, and maybe other forms of higher and lower life. It is too much to handle, We need you to work with me on recording it all down, interrupting it, figure out how to use it. .”

The adventure suit was scarlet, and goldenrod, with cyan tiger stripe in artful placment…..

[metamorphesque]

Hands clutch a bag of oranges and pass a bundle of bananas across a table. They cup a round, pregnant belly, grasp a fleshy pear with two bright green leaves still attached, hold a smoking cigarette above a newspaper, and rest upon a lounging body, warmed by the midday sun. The hands in Livien Yin’s paintings frame their subjects in these moments of rest and repose—on a bed, in front of an orchard, by the beach—illuminated by the gauzy hazes of a golden light. (source)