#that is true he eats soup and sandwich

[rosesradio]

.

[r0-boat]

hiii can i request for more neuvwrio x reader pls!! :DD thank youuu

Yes you may!!! I'm going to throw head cannons in your face now!

Wriolette x Reader Omegaverse! Poly headcannons

Omega!Neuvillette x Omega!reader x Alpha!Wriothesley

NSFW mixed with SFW so mdni

Sovereign Dragon Omega is not the same thing as human omega. Nuevillette for one is strong enough to hold back the urge to mate during his heat or when an alpha is in rut or not submit to when a mouthy alpha tries to snarl at him to intimidate him. However, that could only last for so long, struggling to keep his composure to the point he stammering to your and Wriothesley's bed.

The Poor Hydro Dragon is far too busy to make a nest, so he hijacks yours. He can't help himself! It smells of everything you, with a hint of Wriothesley, because you made him scent some pillows. If you try to kick him out, he'll give you the puppy dog face you'll ever see. Could you say no to that face?

Wriothesley is the "pack alpha" but really Nuevillette is the true leader. Wriothesley submit so sweetly when Nuevillette decides to be done playing nice. Wriothesley thinks being in charge is hot. But wouldn't want to actually demand his two lovers to do anything they don't want to do. He's just here for the sexy punishments, or the sexy rewards.

Nuevillette is the voice of reason. When Nuevillette tells you do something, you do it without question. There will be consequences if not

Sandwiched between two overworked partners, it is up to you to make sure these guys eat, sleep, and drink (Wriothesley) properly. And you rewarded with scary dog privileges. Your heart melts the way Nuevillette's eyes light up when he sees you coming into his office. Delicious soup in your hand, you place it on his desk, kissing him on his forehead before turning to leave, but he can't bear depart from you just yet. His hand reaches for your shirt, and he asks, "Stay with me, mate? Just for a little while."

Or when you give Wriothesley some water with his 4th cup of tea He grabs you and moves you into his lap wrapping his arms around you holding you gently. You could feel and hear him groaning against your shoulder. After a while you think it's cute until you noticed he becomes slack and extremely heavy.

Nuevillette in heat is more insatiable than Wriothesley on his first rut after being off suppressants. It's a good thing that dragon heats, and ruts only come about once a year rather than every month. Nuevillette will drain Wriothesley's balls before hunting you down when the poor Duke can't give him anymore. Sometimes, you already be being held hostage by him. The Dragon demands both of his mates.

Wriothesley is a provider; if you want one thing, he will get you five of those things. The guy doesn't really know how to do communication and talking and stuff. He doesn't know how to put his feelings into words, so like a happy puppy, he will bring you some flowers and hope you reward him with pets and kisses. That puppy will turn into a rabid dog when he sees so much as a scratch on your cheek. Can you imagine that you got into an altercation with someone, and you tried to hide the bruise on your cheek only for him to grab your chin gently yet firmly, forcing your head to the side so you can get a better look at yourself? His voice was low and threatening. "Who did this to you?"

[spectres-n-soap]

A Soft Breeze - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Therapy, pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, angst with comfort

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Why do you lash out at others?” Dr. Miller asks. The session had been going relatively normal, he had started out with the usual base questions he did every time.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing my best.”

“How’s the pregnancy?”

“Healthy for the most part.”

And it felt he was coming out of left field with that question. It must have been obvious how much of a divergence from the norm it was because he tries to back track but you stop him.

“It's easy.” You admit. Admission feels like poison or acid, eating up at you now that you’ve spoken it to life. It was easy, it is easy, to lash out at those around you then to confront the source. You scream and yell, throw things and break down instead of admitting the truth that no one deserves your anger. No one deserves the grief that eats you up and that you refuse to acknowledge until now. “It’s easy to lash out at others then take a moment to reflect.”

“Do you feel bad afterwards?” He asks as he writes down something of note and you cringe a little. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of things wrong with you. That’s what you’ve concluded that means, that whenever he writes something down after you say something, that it's another thing wrong with you. You won’t dare to ask him if it's true; he’ll probably lie about it for propriety.

“Yes.” You still beat yourself up over the baby shower and every time you’ve yelled at Simon. “I feel awful afterwards because I know they didn’t deserve it.”

“So why do you take it out on Simon specifically?” Dr. Miller asks and you stiffen. What a loaded question, you thought. “Just off the top of your head, why?”

“Because it feels like he’s trying to replace him.” You say, throat becoming tight at the thought, horrible and malicious. “And I know that he isn’t and that it's not right for me to think like that.” Dr. Miller takes notes, his hand moving quickly over the lined paper in front of him as you speak and it takes everything in you not to stop or call him out on it. “It should be Johnny here. Not him.”

“You know that Johnny is dead.”

“Yes I know he’s dead.” You snap, “I know he is, alright? But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he wasn’t.” You put your face into the palms of your hands and sigh. “I’m a terrible person.” You whisper.

“No, you’re just a person.” Dr. Miller says, “There is no such thing as a good or bad person, just people who do good and bad things. Sometimes more of one than the other.” He sets down his clipboard and leans forward, “It's good that you are able to find what the reason is, now we just have to work on finding ways of expressing those feelings without hurting those around us.” You nod slowly.

Simon is waiting for you in the parking lot, a surprise for you. “Hey, I was thinking we could eat out tonight, to celebrate another therapy session.” You scrunch your face up and before you can retort anything he says, “Just accept the free food.” You truly cannot debate with that logic or offer and you get into the vehicle with him.

It’s not a fancy restaurant but to be honest, you might’ve tried to strangle him if he had. Just a simple sandwich place, the food is good and the restaurant surprisingly serves other things than just sandwiches and drinks. You opt for an italian sandwich and some tomato bisque on the side with crackers. 

The silence between the two of you is natural, especially as you eat and therefore become unable to speak without being rude. The restaurant isn’t bustling with tons of other people, in fact it's rather quiet for the time of day. You think it's because of the fact it's Wednesday. “I’m sorry.” You say after finishing your soup.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” He asks and your cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry for being awful to you all the time.” You say, “It's not okay for me to treat you like that and I don’t know why you stuck around after everything.”

“Because you’re Johnny’s bird.” He says, “I’m doing right by him, I’m making sure the person he cared for and the baby he never knew existed are safe.” He states and you shake your head.

“I don’t get it.” You mutter and he chuckles softly, the sound warms your belly more than the soup did.

“You don’t have to.”

You get a call from Mrs. MacTavish the next day, “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not feeling prepared for motherhood and I did some looking.” You vaguely hear some mouse clicking and she starts again, “I’m gonna send you some links to places holding parenting classes.” You glance at your phone and see the links copy and pasted into the text chat. “You should attend them, I think they would be very useful. Have a good rest of your day dear.” You say your goodbyes and tap on one of the links.

Just as Mrs. MacTavish said, it is for a place holding parenting classes throughout the week, you look at the next available one and feel your heart rate pick up. Two days from now, it will be held at a nearby library in the afternoon. Simon glances over your shoulder and asks, “Thinking about going?”

“It would be smart for me to go.”

“But do you want to?” He asks as he sets down his dirty mug into the sink to wash later. He leans against the counter and you shrug.

“Wouldn’t hurt to go, just to see if I like it.” Your thumb hovers over the register link before you finally tap it and send in your information. Putting down just how far along you are in your pregnancy feels surreal. Seven months along and nearly at your eighth. How did the time pass by so quickly? 

[with-love-from-hell]

Head-Empty Headcanons

Things they say, think, and do that prove they are a bit air-headed. 

Genre: Headcanons, Comedy

Characters featured: All Obey Me! Characters (yes, even the new ones!)

Whenever Mc is mentioned its unrelated to their gender!

CW: swearing!

A/N: The brain rot is real this morning, and I haven’t done anything super silly in awhile, so here!

Belphegor

The weirdest shit always comes out of his mouth when he’s half awake. 

Will ask the most ridiculous questions when he’s in between naps or when he’s just woken up because his brain is on autopilot, like along the lines of “Do you think pigeons have feelings?” 

Does not look when he crosses the street.

Will literally ask what you said after being annoyed that you asked if he was listening. 

Has drank water while laying down and choked himself. 

Beelzebub

3 balls bopping around his head at all times are Food, Workout, and MC like a game of Pong

Blinks one eye at a time. It’s subtle but he totally does it. 

Has eaten the fortune out of a fortune cookie because he thought that was part of the process of making the fortune come true. 

When told by MC he had to rinse rice before cooking it he asked if he needed to use soap. 

Has eaten whole, raw, potatoes because he thought it would give him protein like eating raw eggs would. 

Asmodeus

He’s pretty; he doesn’t have to be smart.

Once stared frustratingly in the mirror for 15 minutes trying to figure out why the phrase written on his shirt was backwards. 

The first time he dyed his hair, he got mad that it didn’t grow the same color out of his scalp.

Forgets that he owns something and will by numerous duplicates. 

1000% has fallen for MLM scams

Satan

No thought only cat.

You need to watch him like a toddler if you take him to the zoo. He will try to jump into every big cat enclosure. 

Has started fires in his room multiple times because he put candles on top of his books (Seriously dude your room is a fire hazard) but is still clueless as to how it happened.

The first time he saw a racoon he thought it was a rare breed of cat and tried to snuggle it.

Leviathan

Somebody take his screens away. 

Has 100% tried to “Back Space” words when writing physically with pen and paper.

More than once has screamed at a game system for not working when he had just not realized that it was unplugged.

Has definitely run into walls after sitting 2 feet away from his giant TV like a 3 year old. 

Has completely ignored and walked away from people because he is too busy creating a theme music for himself as he’s doing something that he perceives as cool.

Mammon

I think I could never run of ideas for how airheaded this man is, but I’ll go for the abstract ones since there are many that are obvious.

One of those dudes who thinks pee comes out of the vagina. 

Definitely goes down existential rabbit holes because of questions like “Is cereal a soup” or “is a hotdog a sandwich”

Will literally believe anything you tell him if you say it with enough sincerity- even if it’s the most ridiculous thing you could think of. 

100% believes that horror movies like Friday the 13th are based on true events and is convinced that most humans die by serial killers

Lucifer

This man has absolutely done the dumbest shit when he is sleep deprived. 

Will lose things that he is holding in his hands as he’s using them- often it’s his pen or his phone. 

has drank scalding hot coffee because he forgot it was too hot to drink. 

Leaves things in the oven and microwave all the time. Usually Beel finds it and eats it, and he’s none the wiser.

Talks to himself all the time, usually giving reminders to do things or a grocery list, but also will just narrate things. 

 Literally a Golden Retriever.

Diavolo

Holds up his his fingers in an L shape to determine right from left- which never works because he forgets which way an L is supposed to go. 

Will believe pretty much anything you tell him about the human world if you say it with enough conviction.

Constantly doing the most ridiculous things without thinking of the consequences- often times leaving Lucifer or Barbatos to clean up his mess. 

Constantly bothers Mc, Lucifer, and Barbatos when they’re busy- even after just being scolded for being a distraction- because he forgets that they’re doing something and wanted to show them something cool

Barbatos

He’s probably the least ditzy, but even he has his moments.

Walks into the kitchen and forgets why he was going in there. All the time. 

Accidentally goes through all of the Little D’s names before getting the right one- even if he had JUST done the same thing for a different little D

Will step out the door to go somewhere with Lord Diavolo and immediately wonder if he left the Stove on. He will go check, and still wonder if it’s on 5 hours later. 

Mephistopheles

Simp! Simp alert!

Will do anything you tell him if you said “Well, I guess I could go ask Lucifer to do it...” even if its embarrassing or flat-out dangerous lol

Diavolo occupies his brain at all times so he’s often distracted by intense pining for their “friendship” that was totally not a one-way crush. (go listen to “When Somebody Loved Me” from Toy Story 2 lol)

One of those “Um AcTUaLly” bros who is always wrong about the thing they’re correcting you on to an absurd degree. 

Somebody go teach grandpa how to use a computer. 

Simeon

Has definitely given his computer a virus by clicking a popup ad, and also fell for the “Nigerian Prince” emails

“Do you think someone would just go on the internet and tell lies?” 

No seriously he will see some wild conspiracy on Devilgram or Devilbook and be convinced it is real. Lord help him. 

Definitely thinks Boomer memes are funny. Send him a minion, he will laugh his ass off. 

Raphael

Elevator music playing in his brain at all times.

Immediately choses violence as an option every time no matter the circumstances and this is quite literally CANON.

Is always the last to know some secret that isn’t really a secret and is really obvious. 

Will test the sharpness of his spears by jamming them into the ground, and then get mad when he cant yank them back up. 

Luke

Just a poor child trying his best. Someone teach him. 

Probably didn’t know what a chihuahua was when someone first compared him to one but was too embarrassed to admit he didn’t know so he just like. Went with it. Until he found out they are a tiny yippy dog- then he got angy. 

Absolutely believes that babies come from the Stork. 

Thought the “PG” movie rating meant “Pretty Good.”

Solomon

His cooking cant be that bad...can it?

Will throw quite literally anything into a pot when cooking, even if it doesn’t make sense to do so, because he likes to “experiment” 

The first time he sees a fidget spinner he loses his fucking mind. “What is this? It’s spinning! I am in pure bliss!”

Has definitely blown up a classroom at RAD because he snuck in a potion to test out and accidentally dropped it.

Has definitely said some really outdated cringy slang. “Tubular!” “Oh man, so grody!” 

Thirteen

Conspiracy theorist- for sure.

Didn’t believe that Belphie and Beel were twins because they didn’t look alike (she did not know fraternal twins were a thing).

Is convinced that Solomon is an alien. 

Mispronounces words all the time because she rarely talks to others until the exchange program and primarily sees things written (e.g. Fragile as “Fra-gee-lay” and Bologna as “Bow-log-nah”)

Does not test her traps before using them, and gets mad when they don’t work.

[hunieday]

Yuki - Daily Life Rabbit chat part 5 - Holiday Market

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yuki-san, thank you for your hard work.

Takanashi Tsumugi: We'll be appearing together on a music program next week! Everyone is already looking forward to working with Re:vale-san!

Yuki: Good work, I got a call from Okarin a while ago. Looking forward to it as well

Takanashi Tsumugi: 

Yuki: I was actually thinking of rabbichatting with Maneko-chan

Takanashi Tsumugi: With me?

Yuki: Yeah, we’re at the roadside station you recommended the other day.

Yuki: Thanks to you we’re having a great time

Takanashi Tsumugi: Wah! So it’s your day off today! I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves.

Takanashi Tsumugi: I'm sorry for bothering you on your day off...!

Yuki: Don't worry about it

Yuki: I actually have some free time right now, so keep me company for a bit

Takanashi Tsumugi: Aren't you with Momo-san?

Yuki: He's trying his hand at the vegetable-packing activity, so he’s waiting in line to give it a try

Yuki: I think he's more into veggies than I am

Takanashi Tsumugi: 

CHOICE:

1) Don't you want to try the challenge?

Yuki: I'm just watching. Tried it once, couldn't pack much at all, and ended up losing money. So I've been appointed as Momo's cheerleading squad ever since

2) Is Momo-san good at the packing challenge?

Yuki: Like a pro. Even when we were struggling, he used to join housewives at the supermarket and work his hardest. Momo brought back the loot with a perfectly packed bag, looking absolutely cool

3) What are you planning to do after this?

Yuki: I'll watch Momo eat a parfait. We were talking about coming back later for dessert after lunch, but my stomach's still full.

Yuki: Momo’s working his hardest to stuff the bags alongside the housewives

Yuki: Though I'm a bit worried about the carrots

Takanashi Tsumugi: I know what you mean… I tend to pack the same vegetables instead of going with a variety since it’s easier…!

Yuki: Maneko-chan, do you have experience with this?

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes I do! There are packing challenges at the local supermarket sometimes, so I give it my best whenever they happen!

Takanashi Tsumugi: 

Yuki: Impressive

Takanashi Tsumugi: Sometimes I end up with nothing but carrots or sweet potatoes though, so I stick to the same vegetable menu for a while after that...

Yuki: What kind of menu do you go for?

Yuki: I might pickle some carrots tomorrow so I'm looking for some inspiration

Takanashi Tsumugi: I finely chop and add a lot of them to soup, or grate them and arrange them in different ways like a salad! 

Yuki: A salad sounds nice. You can sandwich it in bread so you won’t get tired of it

Yuki: Back when Momo brought back a ton of carrots from a packing challenge, we used to make curry or stew for days

Takanashi Tsumugi: Momo-san was in charge of packing them and you were in charge of the cooking!

Yuki: That’s right

Yuki: We were broke, so we only had curry roux, and I remember having curry with nothing but carrots for three days straight.

Takanashi Tsumugi:

Yuki: I thought my body might turn into curry on the third day

Yuki: Momo said everything tasted delicious, though

Takanashi Tsumugi: I'm sure it’s thanks to the love you put into it...!

Yuki: That's true

Yuki: That’s always been my secret ingredient

Takanashi Tsumugi: 

Yuki: I think I'll stop Momo soon.

Yuki: He's working hard to pack those carrots, but his bag looks like it's about to rip and burst.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes! I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.

Yuki: Mhm. Thanks for keeping my company

Yuki: I'll do my best to make those flower crowns and send you pictures of my cute Momo

Takanashi Tsumugi: Looking forward to it...!

Takanashi Tsumugi: 

[actualbird]

this sounds rly weird to say but stick with me - i wish luke would get ill in canon. obviously he has a terminal illness which would weaken his immune system and while it’s great he’s physically fit i mean SURELY he’s way more susceptible to getting seriously ill from a cold/the flu, right?? idk i think i just want to see him being taken care of bc he deserves it but also i do like the idea of him being taken care of by the nxx and them looking out for him when he gets seriously ill from a virus/bug etc etc

i got this ask Before main story 9 dropped but only after did i wanna answer it because i totally feel u.....

i feel like tot doesnt let luke get smaller ails in canon because hes already dealing With The Big One Thats Killing Him (any more wld be overkill?). and though it's also true that neurological conditions dont necessarily always affect the immune system, it's still a dang shame cuz like u, i'd adore a story where it's the others taking care of him when hes down with a bad case of the flu....and given recent main story events, i reALLY WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE TEAM HELP LUKE WITH A LOW-STAKES AIL :(((

in true luke fashion, he'd probably keep it under wraps and make excuses until his absence at an nxx meeting cannot be ignored and they crash his apartment to see him in a MISERABLE little pile of blankets trying to remedy this by himself

mc: why didnt you tell us!!!! >:O

luke: it's not a big deal :( it's just the flu and already called aaron for doctor's advice and meds and everything, i can take care of myself

vyn: have you been hydrating?

luke, nervously: ..............yyyyyes?

artem, looking in his fridge: theres nothing in here but peanut's treats, what have you been feeding yourself?

luke, still nervously: ffffood?

marius, finding a pack of sliced bread near his bed: dude, have you just been eating bread???

luke, increasingly nervously because hes fighting for his life out here: i cant stomach anything else for some reason!!!

mc: uh huhhhh, you seem to be doing a Great job at taking care of this yourself :/

luke: ;-;

cue the team helping out: helping in cleaning the place up (when luke is miserable his place gets even Messier), cooking simple foods (artem's soup to the rescue), etc etc. luke would be So apologetic during the whole thing, constantly apologizing for being a bother, which is both depressing and grating to hear. mc almost wants to take two piece of sliced bread and sandwich luke's face in them to tell him "STOP SAYING SORRY!!!" but she knows thatll probably make him feel worse, so she restrains herself

for all luke's apologizing, he does feel better with the team helping out. but then he feels bad about feeling better (because HOW DARE HE....AFTER HE INCONVENIENCED THEM ALL!!!) and it's this terrible ouroboros of shame

eventually, mc sends the other boys out on a grocery run to help stock luke's fridge with fruits and other good snacks-for-sick-person, and alone in luke's apartment she sits next to him.

mc: hey, tell me the truth. you knew you were doing a cruddy job at looking after yourself, you knew you shouldve asked for help. why didnt you?

luke: ...i dont...like it...i dont like you or the others seeing me like this

mc: pathetic?

luke: i mean, yeah. but i meant....sick. i dont like you guys seeing me sick. because of, yknow.....being sick and useless and helpless, it feels like a prelude, and everyone else is burdened picking up the pieces around me.

mc: oh

luke: yeah

mc: hm. youre an idiot

luke: ????

mc: i cant speak for the others, but i can tell you that i surely dont mind seeing you like this if it means i can help. dont you always tell me to rely on you more? how about you return the favor, luke. let us help, sometimes. let me help.

and we all know shes way too good at setting up a winning argument.

by the time the others get back, luke is a more cooperative patient and a less-apologetic one. in the back of his mind, he figures it cant hurt to let himself feel okay getting help every once in a while.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Hi! Doomsday trio prompt- The Most Hated Breakfast Food. Not the best. The worst.

this is SUCH a good prompt and i didn't do it correctly :') here's what my brain did instead. at least it was breakfast themed?

part of the doomsday preparation drabbles

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

Breakfasts Prepared in The Days Before Battle (aka how do you feed a young man, an immortal birdman, and a piglin in one meal?)

Day 1: Oatmeal and toast. A simple dish, but sincerely one of the most beautiful and put-together meals Dream has ever seen. He didn't expect them to feed him at all, much less prepare a bowl of well-arranged, colorful fruits in a vintage bowl. He stood in the kitchen, frozen. Eating in front of Techno and Phil might mean taking his mask off in front of them, and he was tempted to grab the food and eat in another room, like an anxious dog. He settled instead on tilting the mask up a bit. They saw his mouth, and they didn't make any indication that they even noticed. Techno had three bowls, Phil had one and a half, and Dream had one (he was too embarrassed to ask for more).

Day 2: Avocado toast with pico and eggs. Techno shyly admitted that they were trying to get through this loaf of bread before it went bad. Then, he went on some nonsensical ramble about how it was Dream's sacred mission to help them. "Forget the battle," he said, "we gotta get rid of this bread." Techno had four slices, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 3: Omelettes and yogurt. There was something a bit comical about seeing Techno use silverware. His hands were too big for them, his shoulders hunched forward, and he used them so politely that you wouldn't expect him to be the most feared warrior this civilization has known. After breakfast, he absolutely dominated in a sparring session against Dream. Techno had two omelettes, Phil had half (but two bowls of yogurt. He was "in the mood for it."), and Dream had one.

Day 4: Breakfast sandwiches. Sausage, egg, and cheese, all in a biscuit-like bun. Dream nearly took his mask completely off at the table, and fumbled with the clip as he desperately tried to put it back on without showing more skin than he already has. Techno had his back turned as he was serving himself, thankfully, but Phil sat beside him. The old man didn't even look up from his plate, unbothered by Dream's dilemma. Techno had two sandwiches, Phil had one, Dream had one, and the dog whining softly under the table got two pieces of sausage from Dream's palm.

Day 5: Sausage soup. It was a piglin thing, apparently. Techno mentioned it and then grew quiet, enjoying the meal but never losing a distant, foggy look in his eyes. Dream watched, unable to think of a follow-up question. Between the three of them, he was not the only one with secrets. Techno had five bowls (the most Dream's ever seen him eat), Phil had one, and Dream had one.

Day 6: Pancakes and scrambled eggs. A classic breakfast. Phil seemed nervous about preparing the pancakes a way Dream would like, so he made them plain and provided a variety of toppings. Dream opted for a variety of fruit and the chocolate spread, but he said (with confidence) that he would've eaten whatever was prepared for him. Techno had four pancakes, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 7: Bagels. Somewhere between preparations and trainings, Philza found time to pick up bagels. Dream found it odd to prioritize food with such a decisive battle on the horizon. He sat, he tilted his mask, he ate, and he talked to Techno about horses. Techno had two bagels, Phil had one, and Dream had one.

Day 8: Biscuits with Eggs. Or, as Techno called it, "Biscuit with guts." A poached egg was poured into a hole in the biscuit, making an interesting mix of textures and flavors. Dream wasn't the biggest fan of poached eggs, but true to his word, he ate whatever was served to him. Techno had four biscuits, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 9: Creamy potato soup and sausages. Carbs and proteins for fuel. The battle loomed, and Dream was feeling anxious. He wasn't sure why; he wasn't afraid, per se, he was simply buzzing with energy that had no where to go (He wanted this to go perfectly). He asked Techno to spar with him again. He asked Phil for a refill of potato soup. "Remind me to get you the recipe, mate," Philza said, "If you can make mashed potatoes, you can make this. Good for travel, too." Dream replied stupidly with some comment about how much he liked potatoes. Techno had three bowls, Phil had one, and Dream lost count of how many times he made it while he traveled. Much later, he'd make it again within the prison walls, and he'd run to a nearby chest to vomit.

[metalmonki]

Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 7

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2.5k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mentions of blood

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I slept for ages. If I went off the alarm clock next to my bed, I had slept for well over 24 hours.  I probably would have slept longer but the sound of my sliding door opening followed by Deans voice woke me right up.

“What do you have there Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Y/N hasn’t eaten in 2 days, so I was just bringing her something” Sam said from directly outside the door. My stomach growled at the thought of food. It was true I hadn’t eaten anything since Theresa’s house.

“Oh, so your best buddies now?” Dean asked.

“What is your problem?” Sam sounded like he was getting angry with his older brother.

“Nothing it’s just interesting that the girl you had a huge problem with your suddenly being super nice to”.

“Yeah, well you love her Dean and I’m not going to change your mind on that, so I figured it’s better I just accept it then keep this stupid fight going” Sam sighed.

“Turns out it was just a phase” I could hear Deans smirk in his voice.

“Dean? Are you…”

“Sam seriously guess I was just thinkin’ to much with my downstairs brain” Dean laughed.

“Your sure?” Sam asked voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes, I’m sure”

My heart broke with each word Dean spoke. If he truly felt that way, then why was he still hear looking after me? Why hadn’t they just left when they dropped me here? I heard Sam opening the door again, so I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I heard Sam approach and the mattress beside me sink as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sam placed a hand on my shoulder and began to softly shake me. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head, pretending to have been woken up.

“Sorry you’ve been asleep for ages, and you need to eat something” Sam chuckled holding out the food.

“Thanks Sam” I tried to sit up, failing miserably “Uh a little help” I giggled nervously.

Sam chuckled before placing the food on my bedside table. He slipped an arm around my waist and hoisted me into a sitting position. He tucked two pillows from my bed behind my back to keep me comfortable. I grabbed the food from the bedside table and began tucking in. It was anything special literally tomato soup from a can with a couple of toasted cheese sandwiches. But still I dug into it like it was the last meal I would ever eat. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Okay well I’m going to head out for a little while”.

“Going to see Theresa?” I gave a cheeky smile.

“Uh yeah” Sam smiled rubbing the back of his neck.

I waved my hand at the door dismissing him. Sam just chuckled and put his hands up walking out the door. I sat in silence eating my soup and watching the door half wanting Dean to come in and half wanting him to stay away. Once I had finished eating, I placed the tray with bowl and plate back on the bedside table. It was in that moment that I realised I desperately needed to go to the toilet. Not wanting to call Dean in I tried to sit myself on the side of the bed. It took a lot of strength to lift myself on one hand given that even the smallest amount of pressure on my arm pulled the stitches that lined it causing me to grit my teeth in pain. By the time I have myself seated on the edge of the bed fresh blood had begun to bleed through the once white bandage that circled it. I forced myself to stand wobbling on the thick cast around my foot and ankle. Luckly the cast stopped before my knee making it slightly easier to walk. With the assistance of the bedside table and the wardrobe that lined the wall between the bed and the bathroom door I was able to hobble my way to the bathroom. I didn’t even think when I finished on the toilet, I flushed and wobbled over to the sink to wash my non-cast covered hand. The whole time I could hear Dean banging on the door and jiggling the handle asking to be let in. I sighed, looked at myself in the mirror and flicked the lock on the door allowing him to come in.

“What do you think your doing?” Dean looked furious.

“I’m going to the toilet” I motioned to the toilet.

“You should have asked for help” Dean moved to grab my arm.

“I’m not helpless Dean, I can get from my bed to my bathroom” I emphasized my. Dean looked down rubbing his forehead. He went to speak but let out a small gasp instead.

“You’ve busted your stitches” Dean gently grabbed my arm.

“I’ll live” I pulled my arm away. I made my way back to my bed while Dean stormed back out into the kitchen cursing under his breath. I got back into my bed without any trouble. I was sat on the edge of the bed deciding what to do when Dean came back, first aid kit in hand.

“Let me see your arm” Dean grumbled.

“What are you going to do? Play doctor?” I smirked at him.

“I know a little something about stitching wounds” Dean smiled at me “So will you let me see your arm please?”

I held my arm out to him. He sat beside me and slowly began up wrapping it being care not to pull on the sensitive wound below. Once my arm was completely unwrapped Dean laid it across his lap. He opened the first aid kid which I recognised as the one from the boot of the Impala. He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a needle and sutures. He poured a small amount of the rubbing alcohol over the wound. He pulled out the torn stitches and sewed in the new stitches. I could see the look on Deans face, it was a face I had seen multiple times.

“I know that look” I looked over to a photo on my tv unit.

“What look?” Dean looked up at me briefly.

“Look at the freak” I looked back to Dean “It’s okay I’m use to it, hell the girls at school use to cut me just to see how quickly the cuts would heal” I shrugged.

“I’m sorry” Dean never took his eyes off my arm.

“Knowing what you know, would you say I could be one of the things we hunt?”

“Knowing what I know? Not a chance. Could you be some sort of medical anomaly? Definitely” Dean smiled.

“Oh, anomaly big word for you Winchester” I laughed at him.

Dean finished restitching my arm. He took a new bandage from the first aid kit and wrapped my arm up again.

“There all better” Dean smiled at me. “Now can I help you with anything or are you going to stay in bed”.

“Can you help me over to the computer?” I motioned to the computer in the corner. Dean scooped me up in his arms causing me to squeal. I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep myself from falling. Dean just chuckled and walked over to the computer desk. He placed me on the computer chair and swung me around to face the computer.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean leaning on the desk next to me.

“I’m stuck here your not so I figured I’ll send you to a couple other cases in the area” I booted up the computer and logged in. I explained to Dean that I had started keeping an online journal that only I could access. Having it online made it easier to keep cases sorted and anything I learnt along the way a key stroke away. A lot easier then that paper journal they carried around. I pulled up a case from just over an hour away. Easy to drive there and back in a day, Vamp nest. I had it lined up as a quick clear out on my way to the big vamps nest up north.  Dean seemed impressed, he smirked at me and said something about hitting the road. He left the room with a final warning for me to take it easy. I heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the external sliding door. I turned back to the computer and started looked for other cases to keep Dean busy and out of my house.

And so, the next 2 weeks went by like this, me presenting Dean with a new case the second he was in the door, Sam going back and forth between helping Dean and spending time with Theresa. I just wanted to get back on my feet and away from the Winchesters. Sam and Dean would often talk at night as they were getting ready for bed in the lounge room. More of the same, Dean was sure he had no feelings for me, Sam was sure he was lying. Sam spoke of the spark he had with Theresa and how he was thinking about asking her to return to the US with them. Dean had now taken Sams position and was insistent it was a bad idea. There were times where Dean was around, and I would see him looking at me. He had this look, it was as if he was hurt over what happened, as if he was blaming himself. He was at fault in one way, but he wasn’t completely in the wrong. I had chosen to go back to the pool, I knew I was getting myself into trouble, but I did it anyway it wasn’t all his fault. If the boys weren’t here, I probably still would have gone back to the pool.

When the day finally came around for me to go back to the hospital to see how things were healing, I was nervous. Part of me hoped everything was healed so they boys could just leave but at the same time I hoped I had a little longer left to heal so I could keep the boys around for a little longer. As the days dragged, I felt myself fighting between wanting them to go and wanting to plead with them to take me with them. Something felt right with them, felt right with Dean. Dean pulled us up in front of the hospital and went to get a wheelchair. Sam had come with us for whatever reason. He stood by my open door and told me all about the things he done with Theresa. He had been taking the opportunity to live a normal life, he had taken her to the movies, they’d played at the arcade, everything a normal couple would do. I was happy for him. Dean came back with a wheelchair and insisted on lifting me from the car to the wheelchair. He then pushed me into the hospital while his brother followed behind. I directed him to the outpatient care clinic. We checked in with the receptionist and took a seat in the waiting room. We didn’t have to wait long at all. A doctor came and had a nurse roll me away to x-ray. He made the boys waiting for me in the waiting room. Once the x-rays where taken, the nurse rolled me back into the waiting room and told me that the doctor would be back with me shortly.

It took the doctor 45 minutes to get back to me. Dean rolled me into the doctor’s office taking a seat beside me while Sam went and stood in the corner. The doctor glanced between the two brothers before looking at me.

“Well I don’t know what to tell you but if I had to quess I would say your injuries where not as bad as the ER doctor and surgeon first thought” The doctor turned on his chair to face me.

“What makes you say that?” Sam jumped in before anyone could say anything else.

“The x-rays show that the ankle and wrist fractures are well on their way to healing something I wouldn’t expect to see if they were in fact fractured as bad as the original x-rays show” The doctor looked to Sam. Sam shot a concerned look at Dean. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“So what does that mean for me?”

“I’d say in 4 weeks we could look at taking both casts off, of course I would want to do another x-ray first”.

“Wow that’s great news” I smiled.

“For now I would like to check your stitches then you can be on your way”

I nodded and held my arm out to the doctor. He slowly set about unwrapping my arm. When the bandage was completely off he pulled back the gauze. A surprised gasp left his lips and his eyes went wide.

“I, uh, I can take the stitches out if you want the cut looks almost completely healed so I don’t think you need to keep them in” The doctor tried to cover his surprise. I nodded and the doctor went around collecting what he needed to remove the stitches. Sam excused himself from the room. I looked over at Dean knowing exactly what Sam was thinking in that moment. Dean said he would go talk to him and left too leaving me with the doctor who had returned and started removing stitches from my arm.

…

I followed Sam out of the hospital back to the car where I found him rummaging through the boot. He stood up and looked at me holding Dads Journal.

“Sam it’s not what you think” I said walking over and taking the Journal.

“Then what Dean, we both know she shouldn’t have healed that quickly” Sam pointed a finger back at the hospital.

“If I tell you, you cannot tell her”.

“Tell me what? What do you know?” Sam crossed his arms across his chest.

“She’s part Angel Sammy”.

“Part Angel?” Sam chuckled and looked away from me.

“I’m serious”.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound…”.

…

“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound…” Sam spotted me and stopped talking. He nodded at me and moved to climb into the Impala.

“What’s his problem?” I asked hobbling up beside Dean on a crutch I was now able to use.

“Just freaked out by your fast healing is all” Dean smiled at me.

“You told him I’m not anything you hunt?” I asked.

“Yeah, not sure he believes me thought but he’ll get over it” Dean open the door and climbed into the Impala. I opened the backdoor of the Impala and slid in tossing the crutch on the floor. At least I didn’t have to wait to much longer to be rid of the Winchesters.

[spiderpider]

Whattt??? Free hcs?!

Okay, what about the merc's comfort foods? That's always a fun one lol

If you're up to it, maybe elaborate on the reasons why?

AHH yes!!! I'll go ahead and put it under a read more, but what a fun suggestion!

Merc's favorite comfort foods!

Scout - Breakfast foods! Any kind of breakfast food really- He's partial to pancakes, eggs and a breakfast meat of any kind. It reminds him of when he'd cook with his Ma and brothers, breakfast was the one time during the day where they'd all be together.

Soldier - Tomato soup! Soldier definitely is the kind of guy that goes for canned foods. MREs, weird dried foods, you name it, Soldier's probably shoved it into his mouth at least once. He gets really nostalgic for tomato soup from a can, and he can tell when you try and make it from scratch.

Pyro - Strawberry egg cream! Pyro absolutely loves anything that doesn't require them to take off their mask. They love sweet stuff, obviously, and egg creams have a really interesting texture that they keep coming back to.

Demoman - Scottish fry-up! Also called a full scottish breakfast. Nothing gets rid of hangovers better than scottish fry-ups, especially if they have a fried slice. It's one of the first things he learned to cook for himself and his mum (much to her chagrin, it's way too greasy for her).

Heavy - Kotleti! As long as it isn't made of bear, Heavy loves Kotleti. His mom would make it along with soups when the winters were especially harsh. Nowadays, he tends to fry them up and stick them in bread to make a sandwich when he misses home.

Engineer - Blueberry cobbler! Engie is a sucker for sweets. His favorite all time comfort food is definitely blueberry cobbler a la mode. It's one of those desserts that's "easy to make, but hard to perfect", according to him. He loves making a huge batch at the beginning of starting a project, so he can eat the leftovers throughout the process.

Medic - Grießpudding! Medic is also a fan of sweets! Specifically with cherry syrup. It's definitely a bit of an older recipe and acquired taste (similar to rice pudding), and nobody really touches it when he does make it, but he doesn't really care. It's classic, reminds him of home, and that's good enough for him.

Sniper - Dagwood dog! Any carnival food really. Sniper isn't used to eating rich foods by any means (a lot of his meals consist of coffee and jerky), so when he does get to indulge he wants the worst food imaginable. Dagwood dogs and tomato sauce are definitely up there in terms of comfort food for Sniper.

Spy - Cassoulet! I have a lot of thoughts about this. Spy is a man of inconsistencies, and as much as he likes to talk up fancy french dishes and expensive tastes, I think really the food that comforts him is homemade and hearty. True cassoulet is rich, cheap, and absolutely nothing to brag to your coworkers about. And yet, it's the quintessential comfort dish.

[the-down-upside-finch]

I'm Bored and Want to Talk About My Characters

Gonna ramble about Stained Integrity characters because I've been working on the revision draft a lot lately.

The theme(?) this time around is "What do these characters like to eat?"

Clover: Like most Elmalians, she’s a fan of really strong flavors—especially spicy foods. But her favorite thing to eat is probably raspberry pie.

LeRoy: Give this man a slice of buttered toast and he'll be happy. Sandwiches are okay, too—but there can't be too many things in it. Literally just put a slice of cheese between some bread. It doesn’t even have to be toasted.

Laurie: Apples are his go-to snack, core and all.

Mirak: Well-seasoned rice is his favorite thing to eat, but it can't have any other textures mixed into it. (Just let him have a bowl of nothing but rice!!!)

Myrna: Lemon poppy seed muffins are her true weakness. She also really likes granola.

Hunter: Enjoys a good baked potato. He also likes soup, but only if it’s thick soup.

Francis: Depends on the day and his mood, but he’s a big fan of anything with crabs.

Finnigan: This man is an enigma. I'm the author and have no idea what his favorite food is. I do know that his favorite drink is cranberry wine, though.

Malina: Her sweet tooth might be the end of her someday. She’ll dump an entire cup of sugar into her oatmeal for it to be "edible." Sweet breads (specifically cinnamon flavors) are her favorite.

Blaine: He's a sucker for tomato basil soup.

Karic: The least picky eater you will ever meet. If you gave him a handful of grass and told him it was food he would 100% just eat it. (He's also way too lazy for cooking so. Yeah.)

Nigel: He's a bit of a pasta/noodle fiend—especially garlic noodles. He actually likes cooking (and he's good at it) so the other knights usually try everything to get him to share.

Qa'loë: (This is going to sound weird without context of lore/the world but anyways--) They like sour citrus wisp flavors the most but also will spring for mint with lavender every once in a while.

...That took more brain power than I thought it was going to HAHA--

[atths--twice]

Chapter Seven

Leaving for the weekend, Dana and Fox exchange phone numbers so they can stay in touch while she's gone.

“What time is your train?” Fox asked Dana the next morning as she refreshed his coffee. 

“Six. Which gives me enough time to go home, shower, throw some things in a bag and head to the station,” she answered, smiling at him. “I can’t wait to see Ivy.” 

“I’m sure she’s just as excited to see you. I’m sure she’s missed you too.” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “If you need anything, let me know. I’ve got a couple of tables stacked up.” 

“It’s Friday,” he said, knowing it was usually busier at the end of the week. “And the snow you wished for stuck around a bit, making everyone want to be in where it’s warm.” 

“True,” she said with a smile, glancing outside to the few inches of snow on the ground. “It’s so pretty.” 

“Yeah,” he said, looking at her. “Yeah it is.” 

She let out a breath and touched his shoulder, unaware of to whom his compliment was directed. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she said and walked away, his eyes following her across the diner. 

He got lost writing what was supposed to be a short story, about a little girl playing in the snow as her mother looked on from the porch, when Dana walked up to his table and set down a tray. 

“You didn’t eat lunch and I was too busy to notice. I had Manny make you a sandwich and got you a bowl of the tomato soup we had the other day. I have to leave now, but wanted to make sure you had something before I left.” 

“Wow. I didn’t realize it was time already. The day has flown by,” he said, closing his laptop and moving it to the side. 

“Yeah, I have to go, but I wanted to bring this to you,” she said as he stood up, smiling at her. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it. Please tell Ivy I look forward to seeing her and Princess Pandy again soon.” 

“I will,” she said with a small chuckle. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“Yeah, Monday. Be safe.” he said. 

“Oh, that reminds me,” she said, taking her phone from her pocket. “I don’t have your number. Haven’t really needed it, but I was thinking… it would be-”

“256-7891, this area code,” he said quickly and she stared, before smiling with a nod. 

“One more time,” she said, opening her contacts app and waiting for him to repeat it. She typed it in when he did and he smiled as he saw and heard his phone beep a second later. “That’s from me. Now you have my number too.” 

“Good,” he nodded. “You better get going.” 

“Yeah.” She put her phone in her pocket and bit her bottom lip, staring into his eyes. “Bye.” He hummed and smiled with another nod. 

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close. He closed his eyes as he hugged her back, his cheek resting on her head as he breathed in the scent of her hair. 

“Stay away from the spice cupboard,” she whispered and he laughed. 

“I’ll try,” he whispered back and she laughed. Pulling apart, she smiled and exhaled.

“Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

She stepped back, gripping his hand and squeezing once before she turned and walked away, calling goodbye to the others in the diner. They waved, returning the farewell, and she looked at him one last time as she walked out the door. 

He waved and smiled, sitting down when she was out of sight. Picking up his phone, he opened her message. 

Hello. 😊

A simple short message, but it made him grin. He texted back quickly, despite the fact that he knew he did not exactly need to do it. 

Hello. 😊 Hurry, White Rabbit, you’re going to be late. 

He created a new contact as he awaited her reply, clicking out of the app and the phone itself, wanting to see the message arrive in his lock screen. 

She did not keep him waiting long and he grinned at the sight of the notification from My friend, Dana. 

If I’m anyone, I’m Alice, thank you very much. 

He unlocked his phone and typed back a message. 

Don’t forget your treats, Alice. Have fun and talk soon. 

He watched the three dots, knowing he must look like an absolute idiot with the goofy grin on his face, but he did not care. 

Not a chance, she wrote, also sending a gif of Alice taking a treat from a bowl and then another of her falling down the rabbit hole with a wave, the text of the word goodbye written on it. 

Goodbye, he replied and smiled as he locked his phone. Setting it to the side, he reached for the tray of food she had brought him, his stomach growling loudly. 

____________________

Safely on the train and the only person sitting in this particular area. Should be there in a couple of hours. 

Good. 

I’ve brought Ella’s book, so I’m going to lose myself in the story and her wonderful words. I’ll talk to you later. 

Okay. Have fun reading. 😊

He smiled as he set his phone down and then he sighed as he looked around. She was never at the diner this late, her shift ending every day at three, but it felt empty without her. 

Debating whether he wanted to wait for the usual Friday night crowd or head home, he decided to leave and take a walk before going home. The snow was nearly gone, but the air was crisp and he found it stimulating to his imagination. 

Packing up and saying goodbye, he left the diner and walked around the city. He found it odd that he was feeling lonely, when he was alone most evenings. But, being with Dana the past few nights, it felt strange to be by himself as he walked around. 

Stopping at a twenty four hour bakery, he bought food for the weekend: a couple croissants, a cinnamon roll, and a baguette. Next door was a deli and he bought some ham, cheese, and chips. Back out in the cold, he walked home, arriving just before snowflakes began to fall again.  

Putting away his items, he went and stood on the balcony, watching the snow falling silently. Last night Dana had been standing where he was and tonight he was alone. 

God, he missed her. 

“Come on man,” he said to himself. “You wouldn’t have seen her tonight anyway.” He sighed and shook his head. “No… but it’s amazing how much can change in a few days.” 

Sighing again, he headed inside and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a quick shower and put on his pajamas, suddenly feeling very tired. 

Taking his glass to the couch, he sat down and turned on the television. Zoning out to whatever was on, he nodded off, waking to the sound of his phone beeping. 

He shook his head and stood up, stretching and stumbling to the table and reaching into his coat pocket. Smiling when he saw there were five missed messages from Dana, he walked back to the couch as he began to read them. 

It’s starting to snow again. 🥰

This book is so good. I’ve gone through a range of emotions as I read it. The story is a favorite of course, but the words Ella’s added… I’ve laughed over them and just had to take a break because I started to cry. It’s so silly, but it just hit me that she’s been dead a long while, yet her words and her handwriting is here for me to read. She’s ALIVE, but she’s also not. I don’t know why, but it just made me catch my breath and I had to close the book and set it beside me. I think you would understand how I feel more than anyone, words being your livelihood. I feel silly crying over it, but it’s also so beautiful, you know? Something preserved in a book forever… 

He read the message twice, taking deep breaths at the beauty and honesty of her words, understanding completely what she meant. 

I have about forty five minutes left. Do you think I have time to go to the food car and get some wine? 

He laughed, picturing her face as she tried to work out if she had the time. 

Nah, best to leave it. I know my sister will have some in her cellar. Well, her wine fridge. We all call it that to tease her as the wine fridge is quite large. (She and her husband are wine enthusiasts, I don’t want you to think they’re lushes or something.) 

He laughed again and shook his head, missing her even more. 

Fifteen minutes… you wanna play a game with me? A riddle game? 

“Two minutes ago,” he muttered, checking the time she had sent the last message, and quickly typed one back. 

Sorry, I must have dozed off. I didn’t hear the phone. It’s snowing here too, I’m sure it’s the beginning of the storm they were talking about. Hopefully you’ll have some there to play in this weekend. Sure! I love riddles. I’m ready. 

Pressing send, he waited, watching her response begin almost immediately. Smiling, he sat back on the couch and took a sip of wine. 

Okay, this one may be too easy but… 

What can run, but not walk? 

(No cheating and looking it up either.)

I wouldn’t dream of it, he wrote back and thought about the riddle. 

“Run but can’t walk… what runs? Hmmm… ohhh.” 

A nose, he sent back, smiling happily, knowing he got it right. 

😂😂😂 Good answer, but no.

That SHOULD be the answer. I petition for the court to allow it. 

Court says no. 

He laughed and thought about it some more. 

Water. 

Oohhh. Court’s gonna allow this one as you were so close. The answer was a river. 

Oh yeah. That’s close enough. 

Now you go. 

He hummed as he thought of one of his favorites and he smiled as he began to type. 

A person lives on the top floor of a building. Every morning, they take the elevator to the lobby and walk out the door. When they come home, they ride the elevator to the 16th floor, get out, and walk the remaining six flights of stairs. They do this every day, except on days when it rains, when they ride all the way to the 22nd floor. Why?  

Sending it, he smiled again, his chin on his hand. 

Geez… I sent you a sentence and I get that in return? Okay, let me think… 

No cheating. 

How dare you… 

He laughed and took another drink before again resting his chin in his hand.

Why is the mention of the rain important? 

It’s just part of the riddle. 

It’s confusing.

That’s why it’s a riddle. It’s riddling. 

You’re hilarious. 

You give up? 

Hardly. Just let me think a minute. 

He smiled and let out a breath, finding her even more intriguing and fun, words and the lack of being face to face sometimes making people feel bolder. 

They live on the 22nd floor, but only ride up to 16…. walk the rest of the way…. they want to get their steps in? 

But not on rainy days? 

The stairs are on the outside of the building and they don’t want to slip! Ha! Solved it! 

Nope. Nowhere near. 

Shit… 

He laughed out loud and leaned back, putting his feet on the coffee table. 

I hate that I can’t get it. I’m not admitting defeat. OR giving up… but… 

But you are. You just won’t say. 

…

You want the answer? 

… sigh… hmmmm FINE! 

Okay. The person who lives in the building is an older child. They take the elevator to the lobby to go to school every morning. They are on the shorter side and can’t reach the button for the 22nd floor, so they press as high as they can reach, which is 16. They walk the rest of the way because they must. On rainy days, they have an umbrella and they use the end of it to press number 22, so they do not need to walk up the stairs. 

Pressing send, he smiled, awaiting her response. Three dots popped up and stayed for a while. 

“Oh…” he said with a soft chuckle. “This should be good. Oh here we go…” 

That riddle has too many plot holes. What parent sends their child out alone? What if something happened to them? They can’t reach the button? Why don’t they just always carry the umbrella with them? Don’t you think if a child knew they wouldn’t have to walk up the stairs, they would devise something to help them and keep it with them? Like a folding… I don’t know… an apparatus of some kind? 

An apparatus? He typed back, laughing and shaking his head. 

Yeah. Something they could fold up and yet was strong enough to push a button when needed? 

Like a tent pole? 

Exactly! You get it. 

Mmmhmm 

It was a silly riddle. 

Only because you couldn’t get it. 

Hmm…

He smiled and watched the dots going again. 

I’m nearly at the station now. Thanks for the distraction, even if that riddle had more holes than Swiss cheese. I need to put my stuff away and get ready to go. 

Okay. And I think my riddle was fine. 

I repeat my previous text: hmm…

Have fun and don’t forget to tell Ivy hello from me. 

I won’t. 

Oh, I wanted to say something about your message regarding the story and Ella’s words… I don’t think you’re silly or strange for being affected by them. I told you that’s what I enjoyed about reading your books and it’s why I took you to the bookshop. I wanted you to see the beauty in what others have written over the years and Ella’s books have always been my favorite. I knew you would like them. The power of words is amazing. The ability to bring up emotions we may not have known were even inside of us… it’s beautiful. Keep reading and letting yourself feel the emotions from it. 

He sent the message and stared at his phone, his heart racing. Was it too much or would she understand? 

Dots appeared then disappeared. He drew in a breath as they appeared again, disappeared, and then nothing. Wishing he could take back his message, he was about to write something funny to break up the awkwardness when her message came in. 

Thank you, Fox. 

It was short, but having seen her message bubble coming and going, he knew she had been struggling with the words she wanted to say. 

I’m here now. 

Okay. Good. Stay warm and safe in the snow. It’s really starting to come down. 

I will. Goodnight, Fox. 

Goodnight, Dana. 

He put his phone down, let out a deep breath as he crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. He hoped she had a good time with her family, Ivy no doubt overly excited to see her, wanting to tell her everything she had done the past few days. 

Turning off the television, he wrapped a blanket around him, grabbed his phone and went out onto the balcony. He sat out there watching the snow falling for awhile, until he was too cold and he went back inside. 

Taking another shower to warm up, he got dressed and into bed, picking up a book he was reading. Unable to concentrate, and feeling overwhelmingly tired, he decided to go to sleep early. 

Setting the book onto the nightstand, he turned out the light and laid down, closing his eyes. 

A buzzing sound from his charging phone forced his eyes open. Reaching for his phone, he opened the message to see a selfie of Dana and Ivy squished together, Pandy held between them, as they smiled happily. 

He smiled and stared at the picture. Though Ivy’s hair was slightly darker, she was nearly Dana’s copy, right down to the small mole above her lip. 

Happy to see you two together again. Have a fun weekend. 

A heart appeared above his message and he smiled. No further message came in and he left the message app, clicked the side of his phone and set it on the nightstand. 

Closing his eyes, he smiled. Turning over, he was soon asleep, dreaming of snow falling and the sound of Dana’s laughter. 

[birichardswift]

The Shade's Journal (Starman Omnibus 4)

From the Shade's Journal…

Eddy Gomez had a natural talent for the kind of dancing he performed for me that night. I suppose the closest thing to it would be an "Apache Dance" that you might see in a Parisian revue — you know, where the man wears a beret and a striped vest, the woman is dressed like a mademoiselle of the night, and with grace and agility the pair beat each other up for the amusement of patrons.

Of course, the "Apache Dance" is artifice. No one is really hurt.

In my "Apache Dance," in the washroom of Musso & Frank's on Hollywood Boulevard, things were a little more improvised. Eddy, I suppose, was playing the female role, though he was dressed in a rather spectacular lavender zoot suit instead of a split skirt and fishnet stockings. However, in the dance it's the female who appears to take the beating and Eddy was certainly taking one as he jerked and jived and pirouetted with each punch and kick he received. The "male" of the dance was all that and more, although if you'd asked him to sport a beret and striped shirt while he made his assault, he might as well have hit you as hard as he was pummeling poor Eddy. Sam Mild had a cigarette in his mouth the whole time. The nonchalance of this only added to the scene's surrealism.

Sam blew smoke from the side of his mouth. "Why won't you talk?" he asked for the twentieth time.

"I'm not a squealer," Eddy spat back, along with one of his incisors.

"Since when? Are you not the Eddy Gomez who sold his own mother to the cops for a hundred and fifty bucks?"

I smiled. Mild's joke wasn't that funny, but I thought it the polite thing to do. Then Gomez replied with a cough of blood…

"It was two hundred. And the old bitch had it coming."

...And then I realized Mild wasn't joking at all.

"Hey! What's going on in there?!" It was one of the waiters. He pounded at the locked door. His voice was shrill. "If you guys don't stop whatever it is you're doing, we'll call the cops. We got laws, you know."

"Shut up," Mild yelled in reply, giving Eddy another punch as he did so.

"We got laws!" The waiter was not to be put off. "And we got famous people who want to use the facilities. We got Sidney Greenstreet out here, and he wants in."

"Tell the fat bastard not to eat so much..."

Another punch, this one to the side of Gomez's head.

"...And he might hold out for the little boy's room longer."

A snort could be heard, which I'm guessing was Greenstreet himself, and then a thud as the waiter threw himself against the door. I presume the man was slight, as he made little effect on the door, hinge, lock, or the stream of punches that Eddy Gomez enjoyed.

"That's it, to hell with bad publicity," the waiter screamed out in his high-pitched tone, "I'm calling the cops."

"Damn." Mild kicked Eddy between the legs. "They don't mind the bad publicity but I'm paid to make sure none of it washes up outside Mr. Hughes' cabana." He dragged Gomez toward the door. "Come on, Eddy. Let's take a drive. I love the canyons at night. How about you?"

★★★★★★

We had arrived at Musso & Frank's a quarter of an hour before that. The place was full. It was a popular eatery after all, with its cozy wood-lined booths and its familiar menu of tried and true meals. Sometimes a star would drop by for a sandwich or some soup, so it was also a place where tourists visited in the hope of sighting their big-screen favorite. As we entered, I immediately saw Greenstreet in a corner booth devouring a chicken. Apart from that, it had been the usual mixture of Hollywood Boulevard flotsam.

Mild had walked through the place, pushing aside a waiter who had tried to seat him. We were looking for Eddy Gomez, and Mild fully intended that this would be the final port of call in our evening's hunt for the little fellow.

Our search had begun in a pool hall down near the Santa Monica pier. A large fellow named Gunny had told Mild and myself that a friend of a friend of a friend of his had heard "some news about Hughes" but he wasn't sure what.

From there we drove to Fairfax and a small motel where Gunny's friend of a friend of a friend was enjoying the favors of a middle-aged lady with a quite spectacular amount of hair growth on her upper lip. In fact, had the lady in question not scurried from bed to bathroom sans apparel when Mild kicked the door in on them, I might have questioned her sex more so and assumed her a man with a taste for wigs and rouge. The friend of a friend of a friend was nervous. He didn't want to get anyone in trouble. But when Mild put the fellow's genitals in the drawer of the bedside table and threatened to slam it shut on them, the friend of a friend of a friend all of a sudden didn't care how hard a rain was going to fall on the next fellow as long as his favorite little chap and he stayed together to play together.

And so we again drove through the night. It had begun to rain by now, but the car had good wipers and Mild's handling of slippery L.A. roads was assured. I sat, a passenger content.

The friend of a friend was a drummer in a fairly acceptable dance band. They were playing in a little basement club over on Los Feliz. It was a mixed crowd there. Latinos in their zoot suits. Some servicemen. Some shady white men with sallow complexions and shifty eyes.

The drummer's name was Jerry.

"Hey, man," he said in his coolest half-whisper, "you a friend of Gunny's? Gunny owes me $40."

Mild backhanded him across the cheek. "I don't care if he owes you his life. I want to know who was talking about Howard Hughes."

"I forgot."

Mild sighed. "You know, if I smashed your hands you might heal to play the drums some more. But if I held them down while my buddy drove over them with our car, buddy, you ain't never gonna be hitting the high hat again. So why don't you think a little harder and maybe your memory will come back."

I looked at Jerry's eyes. They spun like plates on the vaudeville stage.

"This man is a drug user," I said.

Mild looked more closely into his face. "Yeah, for sure. Should have noticed." He shook Jerry. "You hopped up? Wouldn't be the first jazzer I met with the habit. Still, it makes getting information out of him easy."

Mild reached into his jacket. For his gun, I thought. Or perhaps a cosh. Instead he produced four crisp twenty-dollar bills.

"Gunny owes you forty? Here's that and that again. You want it? Buys a lot of junk, that much dough. Just give me a name and you can bliss yourself silly, friend."

Jerry stared at the cash. He seemed transfixed. It was as if he were trying to put all these scattered fragments of information together in his head — money...for information....tell him information...I get money...with money I buy dope...with money...for information…

After what seemed like an eternity, Jerry opened his mouth.

"You cats know Eddy Gomez?"

★★★★★★

And so we arrived at Musso & Frank's. We found Eddy making the acquaintance of an egg salad sandwich. Mild stood Eddy up and marched him to the men's room. The questions turn into a beating. Then the waiter's high-pitched threats and his news of Greenstreet's full bladder. Out the back door, as the police arrives in the front. Into the car we had parked...and away.

Our car was parked high up on a deserted stretch of Mulholland. Mild looked out at the lights of the San Fernando Valley.

"You like the canyons?" he asked Eddy.

"I guess. I like to bring girls up here."

"So do I. Isn't that why God created them?"

"Girls?"

"No, canyons."

Sitting in the back, listening to this repartee, I suppressed a smile.

"I don't get you, Eddy," Mild said.

"I'm a simple guy. What's not to get?"

"I beat the hell out of you. Why didn't you tell me what you heard about Hughes? If you'd ask me for money, I'd have given it to you. You could have come out of this ahead."

"I got my reasons."

"You got reasons? You got reasons? I admire your guts, kid. Even if you are a sap."

"So what'cho gonna do to me now?"

"I'm going to kill you."

"Just like that."

"Just like that. I'm going to put a bullet in you and roll you off the road and down the canyonside into the brush. By the time the cops find you, you'll probably have been torn up some by the coyotes. Messy death. Gomez...that's a Mex name, right? You from South of the border?"

"I was born in San Francisco. My father worked in the vineyards."

"You're Catholic with a name like that, though. Gotta be. No open casket burial for you if the dogs chew you up."

Eddy sat in the passenger seat for a short while. He stared at the twinkling lights below him. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"I love this town. I'd hate to leave it."

Mild rolled his eyes. "Then why not stay? Tell me what you know, Eddy. Believe me. I will kill you and not think twice, but I don't enjoy the taking of lives and I would rather drive you back to some nice corner of town and drop you off. Hell, spill what you know and I'll even kick in a thousand bucks. Call it my apology for the beating you took earlier."

"I'm scared."

"Of what? I'm going to kill you in about a minute if you don't talk. What could you be more scared of than that?"

"My soul."

"Come again?"

"What I heard is that Mr. Hughes is being attacked by characters from a children's book, right?"

"Maybe," Mild replied blowing a perfect ring of smoke.

"Maybe nothing. Am I right?"

"Yeah."

"Word is that the guy behind the attacks is a magician. Word is he knows black magic and stuff. Word is he has an army of soulless helpers who do his bidding."

"Oh, yeah?" Mild sounded skeptical.

"He was a film director," Eddy continued, oblivious to Mild's tone. "Until recently. He used to be a big name, too. Horror movies. Stuff with Lon Chaney. Big name. Then his career went downhill. He quit in '38 or '39, about."

Mild shook Eddy's collar. "I don't want his life story, just his name."

Eddy swallowed and sighed. "The guy's name is Tod Browning," he said, and shivered a little as he did so.

★★★★★★

"So what do you know about Tod Browning?"

"Less than you, I'm sure."

This was how Sam Mild broke the silence we had enjoyed since dropping off young Eddy Gomez at the corner of Beverly and Fairfax. Mild had been true to his word and had stuffed money in the lad's pocket as he heaved him out of his car.

Eddy had turned to Mild as he stood on the sidewalk dusting himself off. "Thanks for not killing me, you bastard," he said. "But next time try not to hit me so hard, huh?"

"You better hope there isn't a next time, kid. I was feeling good tonight. Tomorrow might find me in a different mood."

"Please don't repeat what I told you about Tod Browning," Eddy said nervously.

"Oh, I'll repeat it," Mild replied. "I've got to tell my superiors. You know that." Eddy looked at Mild with fearful uneasiness. "But they don't have to know who told me," Mild continued. "So relax."

"I'm scared, man."

"Of this Browning cat?"

"Oh, yeah. Man. He's gonna be the death of you if you dig too deeply in whatever he's got going."

"Yeah, well, we all gotta die." He turned to me. "Ain't that right, Shade?"

I smiled and said nothing.

"Watch yourself, kid," Mild said as our car pulled away.

And so we drove. Along Beverly to La Brea and left up Fountain, passing through Fairfax, and then left again on La Cienega back down to Beverly. I realized Mild had driven us in and enormous square and was about to break the silence by remarking upon it, when Mild spoke first just ahead of me.

"So, what do you know about Tod Browning?"

"Less than you, I'm sure," I replied.

"He's a film director," he said. "We know that. I think...didn't he direct a horror film? Maybe. The Wolfman? Or....I dunno."

"No. And neither do I. I find all horror films tiresome and foolish and refrain from seeing them."

"Me, I got no time for films," Mild offered. "I see too much of the dirt that goes into making them. The actors and their boys on the side. The actresses whose stag films I have to locate the negatives for. Or they have the prostitution records I have to bribe free of the law to destroy. Or they've had abortions. Or there's an ex-husband kicking around who needs paying off or killing. And that's just the weak goddamn actors. Bunch of stupid kids with more money than smarts. The big guys...Mayer and Warner and Cohn and Selznick...all of them have dirty secrets too, that me or someone like me has had to sweep under the rug for them."

"The only name I recognize out of those you mention is Mayer," I said. "I hate the man."

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing. In fact, I've never even met him."

"Then what gives?"

"Through chance and happenstance I met an actor named John Gilbert. We became friends." I coughed slightly as Mild lit one of his cheap cigarettes. "Anyway," I continued, "Gilbert ran afoul of his then boss Louis B. Mayer. Mayer responded to this by driving Gilbert out of the industry. Messing with the man's voice test when the actors were all making the transition from silents to talkies. He drove poor John to an early grave."

"Yeah, I heard that too," Mild muttered. "But don't let it rile you. Stuff like that happens all the time."

"I'm afraid I've already been riled. And one day, Mayer will pay."

Mild placed a hand on my arm. "Look, the one thing I have learned about this town is it's a great leveler. Everybody who is up will one day be down. That's this place. Mayer, as powerful as he is now, will get his one day. Trust me on that."

I sighed a sigh of dissatisfaction and pondered how my revenge on Mayer might one day take shape, when Mild interrupted my thoughts.

"Anyway, I don't see Louis B. Mayer in the car with us, helping us with info on Tod Browning, so I don't want to think about him now. And neither should you, Shade. We've got us a culprit behind this crazy mess, but because we're both ignorant of things movie-like in this land of cinema, we're both of us stymied." He took a drag of his cigarette. "You thirsty?"

"I could take a drink if one was offered to me."

"I know a little after-hours place. Let's go there."

The place in question was actually quite near. A little room with a bar, above a camera store on Cherokee just south of Hollywood Boulevard. Mild parked the car in an alleyway close by and we entered through a side door, taking the creaking wooden staircase upwards to it slowly and with the solemn reverence of two who were entering a temple.

The drinking club itself had been a living quarters at some point, but the owner had seen profit in the lonely who drink when even the moon is telling them they should be home abed. Indeed, one or two men were still there talking about the world to their whiskey sours. The bar itself was cracked marble, old and warred upon, having countless skirmishes with glass and tankard to its credit. Although it was now early the following morning, Larry, the establishment's owner, a fat, happy man with a large disfiguring mole on his cheek, still stood behind the bar awaiting orders.

"What will it be, gentlemen?"

"Vodka gimlet for me. Shade?"

"Sherry," I answered.

"Not in this joint," both Mild and Larry said in unison.

"No?" I asked. "Then what about wine?"

"Got a red somewhere," Larry replied.

"I'm sure in this land of sun-warmed vineyards your red has a humble charm. A glass of that."

Mild and I took our drinks to a side table close to a young man and an older woman. Mild and I sat there in silence for a moment or two, as we sipped our drinks (the red was acceptable), and in that quiet time, I overheard the young man near us making a final negotiation with the woman before the pair of them stepped out for some kind of illicit coupling.

Then Mild called over to Larry. "Hey, Lar! You ever heard of Tod Browning?"

"Yeah. Director. He don't work much now, but didn't he direct Dracula with Lugosi?"

Mild and I looked at each other with relief. In an instant we both knew that Larry was right, and that irritation when a nagging question refuses to be answered had been eased.

"What else do you know about him?"

"You got the sum and total, brother."

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"We grab some sleep," Mild said. "We got a name. That's a good going for one night. I'll report it to Mr. Hughes and he can use his power to locate Browning. We'll drag him somewhere deserted and I'll introduce Browning to my leather cosh and a couple of yards of rubber hose. He'll talk before long, tell us what's going on and why. We'll have the complete picture. Then we'll drive him out to the desert. Pop him in the head. And you can go back to Opal City the richer for having known me and Mr. Hughes, having actually done very little yourself in terms of solving this mystery."

My face was expressionless.

"Though I must admit to finding your company surprisingly agreeable, on this, a very disagreeable night of hurting folks," Mild said with a smile.

I smiled too.

"You don't enjoy the hurting part of the work?" I asked.

"Never hire someone for that kind of work who enjoys it. They'll go nuts on you when you need them straight. No, the hurting is just part of the job. Nothing more than that." Mild downed his drink. "Come on," he said. "I'm tired. I bet you are too."

I nodded and drained my wine. We left with a wave to Larry, who looked to be beginning to close up shop himself.

It was still night as we left Larry's bar and walked to the alley. The alley was dark. Very dark. Darker than the night and street around it suggested that it should be.

"Come on," Mild said. "The car's-"

Then he stopped. He, like I, could hear a noise. Soft at first, but growing louder. A purring. Purring. Purring. And then there was a smile. A large, toothy, feline smile, shining forth from the black of the alley like a beacon.

Mild whistled through his teeth. "You see that?"

"How could I not?"

Mild took his pistol out and fired two shots into the alley. Both passed through the smiling mouth, but the shattering of glass told us that Mild had managed to hit his car's windscreen further within the blackness. He turned to me. "Your shadow gonna be any use?"

"I doubt it. Not if your bullets aren't." I sent shards of shadows at the smile anyway. No use.

The smile then proceeded to advance from the blackness towards us, getting larger all the while. Presently from the gloom an enormous cat's head became visible. If the size of this was anything to go by, then the beast's body would be immense.

"I think we should split," Mild said.

"I concur," I replied, and we both began sprinting for Hollywood Boulevard.

It was four in the morning or thereabouts, and no one was in sight. Looking over my shoulder I could see the Cheshire Cat (for that was what it was) appear from the alley and begin its chase after us. Its body more resembled a panther's, being lithe and muscular, and indeed it was bigger than any normal animal, being ten feet high at the shoulder.

One bound covered many yards and we were but a few seconds from being pounced upon, when salvation came in the shape of a lonely yellow cab. It's "for hire" sign was down, but that didn't stop Mild, who stood in front of the oncoming car aiming his gun at the driver in order to make him stop. The driver did and we threw ourselves inside the car, as the Cheshire Cat bounded onto the spot upon which we had been standing but seconds before. The driver looked on with dismay.

"What's the matter with you?" Mild screamed. "Drive this heap!"

The driver did. Accelerating as the Cheshire Cat gave chase. Faster and faster the hack sped down the deserted 4:00 A.M. of Hollywood Boulevard. All the while the Cheshire Cat maintained its pursuit. Indeed, it seemed to be getting faster as it bounded after us.

"It's gaining!" Mild screamed. "You call yourself a driver?"

The driver glared over his shoulder at Mild and put all his weight on the gas. The car sped up and away finally, leaving the Cheshire Cat behind. With a final spiteful grin at us, from far in the distance, the Cat vanished as the first lights of dawn arose behind it, far to the East.

"What was that all about?" the driver asked. "What was that thing?"

"A special effect gone crazy," Mild replied. "Movie hijinks, you know?"

"No. I don't know. It looked pretty damn real to me."

"You wanna make some dough? I mean big dough?"

"I guess."

Mild pulled a card and wrote an address down on the back of it. "Here. Come to this address tomorrow. Tell them I sent you. You'll be well paid. You know what for?"

"No."

"You forget all about this. If you don't, I gotta kill you. Understand?"

The driver looked nervous. "Like the gospels, buddy. Me, I'm already developing amnesia."

"Smart," Mild said. "Now take us to our hotel and we'll call it a night? You got it?"

Mild settled back and glanced my way. I could see the anger in his eyes, burning like the dawn we drove away from.

"Man," he said. "When I get my hands on the Browning guy, I am gonna give him such a beating."

★★★★★★

The morning after the night of our escape from the large Cheshire Cat (yes, how delightfully benign the whole affair sounds by the light of day)...the morning after that I slept late. I am a being with little need for sleep, but I do find it such an exquisite pleasure. And I knew Mild was out there "packing a wallop" as he so succinctly put it, trying to uncover the whereabouts and activities of Tod Browning.

I never dream. But after waking with the light that shone as glints through the gaps in my curtains, I tried to go back to sleep and in that semi-slumber state imagined meeting Tod Browning. I didn't know what he looked like, so I imagined him resembling Raymond Massey (for no reason at all). I imagined us fighting (well, in truth it would be my shadow demons who'd be doing the fighting while I stood around making delightfully pithy remarks).

...So, in the haze of dreaming not, Browning brought his monsters to fight mine. Shadow Demons fought March Hare and Mock Turtle while the Queen of Hearts screamed "off with his head"...referring to mine. And then when all else failed, Browning called upon his ultimate agent of fear and death, Dracula. Here I imagined Bela Lugosi, but with a long and elegantly groomed mustache. It looked strangely at odd with the smooth, slick hair he'd given his cinematic interpretation of the character.

And that was how it was as I dozed and slept and dozed and slept, until sometime in the very late morning when a timid knock at my door aroused me.

"Come in," I said, sitting up in bed and stretching.

The door was opened by a maid, a small scared girl. She had the look of a beaten dog whose spirit had long ago been broken.

"I was sent to ask you if you'd like some breakfast?"

"Breakfast. That sounds just the thing." I smile. "Tell me my dear, what in this land of sun and oranges passes for breakfast?"

"Gee, I dunno."

"You were sent here to ask me if I wanted breakfast, yet you have no idea what breakfasts are on the menu?"

"No," she countered. "It was the way you asked. It confused me. I thought you were asking me how food here was different from other parts of America."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Breakfast can be anything you want, sir. You're a guest of Mr. Hughes, so the kitchen will cook you anything."

"Well, in that case I would like deviled kidneys and scrambled eggs. Toast. And tea with milk. Oh, and perhaps a glass of the fine, sweet juice of oranges that this land is known for."

"You mean orange juice?"

"I mean exactly that."

She moved to leave, then dropped, turning with a questioning expression on her face marked by a slight creasing of her forehead.

"Err...what are deviled kidneys?"

"I take it offal isn't part of the Californian breakfast cuisine," I said. "Yes, you can take the man out of his country, but you can never quite take the desire for that country's food out of the man." I thought for a moment before answering.

"Tell the cook to take, say... two kidneys. Pig's kidneys. Or one large cow's kidney and cut it into bite-size pieces. Fry them with a little pepper and some hot sauce. That's a close approximation of what I have in mind."

The maid looked stunned. "I...I've never heard of it."

"I'm English," I replied. "What can I say? If you really want to be delighted, let me tell you of a singular dish the Northerners in my country created. They call it black pudding."

"Oh, I rather you didn't, sir."

"As you wish. What's your name?"

"Mary."

"You look tired, Mary."

"I was late for work. I've missed my coffee. I have to admit I'm flagging."

"Well, go get my food and we'll discuss your fatigue when you return with it. How does that sound?"

Mary left warily. It was clear few guests before me had ever stopped to ask her name or state of being. I entered the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I then donned a silk kimono I'd acquired during an exploit in Japan, and awaited my food. But then as the moments passed, a thought came to me, and I reached for the telephone.

"Hello. Is this room service?" I asked. "I'd like to add something to my breakfast order, No, not a substitution. An addition to it, that's right. I'd like a big pot of coffee. And cream and sugar. And what goes well with coffee? Strudel? Just the thing. That, too. Oh, and I don't like to eat unattended, so the maid who you sent up earlier, Mary. I'd like her to stay with me while I eat. Yes, that's right, I am a guest of Mr. Hughes."

A while later, Mary returned.

"I ordered you coffee, Mary. We can't have a sleepy maid in the hotel, can we?"

She appeared nervous. "But I should be getting back."

"No. I asked for your company. Sit and take a break."

We sat. She seemed pensive at first, but as the coffee and strudel began to vanish, so did her concerns.

"Where do you live, Mary?"

"Los Feliz."

"So you know the Los Angeles area?"

"As good as anyone."

"Then let's take the time to talk about it. After all, we have the time. I've asked for your company for the whole time I'm eating. And I am a very slow eater."

"All tight," Mary said, shaking off the drab and tired moment by moment. She smiled and suddenly the room was all the brighter for it. "What do you want to know?"

★★★★★★

Mary, the maid, stood before me. She was naked. And not unappealing, for I can only presume it was the hard work she did which had made her body firm and shapely. A fine sight. So quickly gone.

In her place was Marguerite Ludlow. She too was naked, and as comely a sight as I have ever beheld. My breath stumbled from my lungs. My eyes became hubcaps. Marguerite. My Marguerite. She was back.

"How are you, my love?"

She said this with the familiar warm, slow curve of her mouth I knew.

"I'm fine, Marguerite. I'm surprised, but I'm fine."

"Surprised?"

"Well, you are dead, after all. I did kill you...after all."

"Did you? I don't recall."

"Wait a minute," I said. "This is a dream. This has to be a dream." Indeed, Marguerite is dead. "If you stand before me now, you are a wraith, or you are a figment."

"Dreams are their own reality," she replied. "If I am here before you, I am here...in this existence I am alive. Close your eyes and take a breath."

"A breath?"

"Smell me."

"Oh."

I did as I was bid and smelled Marguerite's perfume, lavender and rose, made by the local chemist in a town just outside of Paris where we visited often. That sweet aroma bonded with the warm natural smell of her own skin, and combined it smelled of springtime. Even in the coldest weather, around Marguerite it smelled like spring.

"I miss you," she said.

"And I you," I replied, the first frail tear forming in the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you," she said.

"And I'm sorry I succeeded," I said back.

She smiled. "What was, was. What will be, will. You shouldn't hate yourself. Do you remember the opera?"

"Which one?"

"The marriage of Figaro. You were disappointed at the end. You had so looked forward to hearing the 'Figaro chorus,' as you called it." (At which point Marguerite began to sing..."Figaro. Figaro, Figaro, Figaro"...then looked at me with a grin.) "You didn't realize that the music you wanted to hear was from the Barber of Seville."

"Yes," I said awkwardly. "Well. Two operas with characters called Figaro. Who would have guessed."

"The walk back from the opera house was wonderful. The cool night. All those stars. We found a courtyard. It was asleep...everyone in the houses around. I made you forget your disappointment in that courtyard."

I closed my eyes again. The pain of remembering those happier times before I discovered Marguerite was really one of the Ludlow clan bent upon my death...it was almost too much to bear. I who had lived so long. I who had endured so much. Yet, all I had to do was see my lost love again and I was close to destruction, my heart close to breaking. I was beyond forlorn. I took another breath of her sweet, springtime perfume…

...And almost retched upon the ground. Gone was spring in all its lavender freshness. I smelled brimstone and human waste and rotting flesh. I recall India, one summer of sickness when I had visited the Ganges. The banks of it were lined with the corpses of untouchables the Indian caste system forbids others to move. The dead stayed where they had fallen to bake and rot in the afternoon rays. The stench I smelled now was akin to the rancid odor on that day in India once. Only worse.

I opened my eyes and saw the Devil.

"Hello again," he said.

He was as naked as Marguerite had been. The sight was not as pleasing.

"When was it last," he asked. "Iceland?"

"Where's Marguerite?"

"Dead, I imagine," he said in an offhand Devil's fashion. "Yes, quite dead."

"You're telling me she was never here?"

"It's your dreams. You tell me."

"No, I suppose not. I suppose she remains as dead as when I left her. Why are you here?"

"You're my son. Of sorts. I fear for you."

"I am no one's son," I sneered back.

"Nevertheless I fear for you. I fear for you this day."

"Why?"

"People come to crossroads. Life is a series of them."

"Like the day you decided to defy your father?"

"Hmm," the Devil said, pausing to think for a moment. "I suppose that was one of those times." He looked off for a moment. "I've never been able to decide if that was one of my better choices...or one of my worst."

"It's my dream. You tell me."

"Touché. I fear for you, Shade," he said, rapidly changing the subject as if the topic of his fall from grace made him uncomfortable. "I fear this adventure you're on. A word...of advice. Beware the demon."

"The demon? Which demon?"

"That is for you to discover. My warning is the beginning and end. You must give the menace a name other than that."

"Is there nothing else you can tell me?" I asked, twitching a little as I said this, like a little boy caught doing something bad.

"Yes, I have to say..." A pause. "...We're here," the Devil said.

"We're here?"

"Yes," he said. "Look around you..."

I looked and in doing so opened my eyes. I had indeed been asleep the whole time. Now, upon waking, I saw sand and palm trees.

Mary was in the driver's seat of a small, gray Ford roadster (which actually was black, but had so many layers of dirt as to disguise this fact). She turned to me, sitting next to her as her passenger as I was.

"Look around," she said with a smile.

"Where are we?"

"Why, don't you remember?" she asked. "I had the afternoon off. I told you I was going to the beach. You asked if you could come with me. And here we are."

"Oh," I said. "Oh yes. Now I recall."

I smiled back at her and got out of the car, breathing fresh sea air that quickly cleared the lingering smell of brimstone.

"It's a beautiful afternoon," Mary said.

"Yes. Yes, it is," I replied, looking out.

The Pacific was before me. Blue and calm. I closed my eyes, said a final farewell to Marguerite who lingered still on my mind, and then stepped towards the water.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3287

i got a little overwhelmed at one point today at work. i moved my chair and i sat on the floor with my keyboard and mouse and typed out a notice about flooding. i was successful.

i really love my job. like a lot. i'm so happy i found it.

the newest girl came in today! she's very nice. i'm excited to get to work with her, but i don't think i'll work with her very much, except for her training.

today was otherwise pretty quiet. adam and i still haven't tested out. we've just been put on shift and told to have at it. i think we're doing pretty well. adam's tired, though. poor kid.

joel sent me a meme about pirates. so i sent him one back. it was funny because i can imagine exactly how he'd react. it was a pun, so he'd likely throw his phone really far and then have to go get it 😂 he's so silly. i love him.

also i got to go to a meeting (hooray (not)) today but i'm glad it wasn't terrible. i got to use my new work certified headphones for it so i didn't have to go to the meeting in person, which was a saving grace because i didn't want to leave and i didn't want to look people in the eye. but it was an all-hands meeting split into two sessions, and i was part of the one that was smaller, which was nice. the interactive part was about crisis aversion and what to do in certain situations. we worked together and i gave some pretty lengthy and content-filled answers. i'm surprised (sort of, not really at this point) that i remembered so much.

lisa had oral surgery today so we got pressed for dinner bc she could have a smoothie. i got a chicken sandwich with mozzarella, pesto, and a balsamic reduction on ciabatta and a cup of the chicken and rice soup. i told mom about it this time, saying it was almost exactly like hers and every time i got to eat it, it felt like a hug. which is very much true. the soup is literally so good i have to keep myself from crying when i smell it. it's so good.

i'm workin in the morning so it's time for me to pass out. i'm just glad i'm already in bed.

sleepy time.

[andswarwrites]

Day 26

When N- was a baby I briefly kept a blog called The Hollow Leg, where I chronicled my journey as a new mom trying to keep my hungry, hungry infant satisfied.  Well she's almost thirteen and that appetite is still just as voracious, so maybe I should dig up the blog and continue the tale.  The main issue was that I was told to wait until my baby was six months old to feed her solid food, and as a new mother I did not question what I was told.  A family friend visited us when N- was four months, and she told me "Stacey, that baby is hungry."

She was an experienced mother, herself, so I trusted her judgment.  I started N- on solid food and that helped at first.  Her pediatrician was concerned about her weight so she told me to start N- on an animal protein, such as chicken.  I tried it once; N- had such difficulty digesting the chicken, she was in agony.  So in order to give her a protein that would be gentler on her system, I would puree a whole boiled egg with fresh green peas.  N- loved that dish, as well as avocado.  Those were her two favorites.

As she grew up, N-'s appetite was noticed by friends and family.  It was extremely rare for N- to reject food, and she absolutely loved beans, just not beans with maple syrup.  In fact, don't add sweet flavor to her savory food, as far as she's concerned, they do not mix.  I mean, not even relish.  Her favorite flavor for a while was mustard, but I think she overdosed on that.  Too much of even a good thing.  She didn't like pickles as a small child, but they are a favorite now.  And she began to enjoy olives on her pizza a few years ago, and has since accepted them in other dishes too.

She's almost a teen and she's already always hungry.  The thing is she isn't hungry for three square meals a day; she likes small meals, with lots of snacks in between.  In fact, if she eats a lot in one sitting, she doesn't feel well.  So she's peckish.  We have a few food-related rules, most notably: N- is allowed to open the fridge and if she sees a container with a lime green lid in there, she is allowed to take it without asking for permission. I usually fill those containers with leftovers from dinner, or when I make a big batch of a dish such as chili, I put a few scoops into a container with a green lid.

One of our friends explained to N- that when she's hungry, a warm dish, such as soup, will help her to feel full.  And it's true, it works; usually when we have soup for dinner, N- is satisfied after one bowl.  I only recently figured out how to make soup that actually tastes good; they'd either be too watery or the spices would take over.  My mom is a genius with soup.  She looks in the fridge, takes out the leftovers from certain meals, combines them, and adds certain ingredients to make a soup that tastes delicious every time.

I'd try making soups the way my mom does, but I don't have the knack for it.  I like making gazpacho, warm tomato soup, split green pea soup, yellow pea soup, and black bean soup.  Notice what they all have in common?  They're thick, and loaded with vegetables, or with legumes.  I also enjoy making miso soup, with finely sliced green onion and diced silken tofu.  Between soups, sandwiches, stews, wraps, and stir fries, I always want to make simple meals that are easily prepared with few ingredients. 

The only meal I am willing to spend hours of effort preparing is sushi.  And I haven't made sushi in a long time.  S- specializes in salmon and potato-based dishes.  He loves baking.  I do not.  S- will make bread pudding, muffins, and cookies from scratch.  N- has begun to show an interest in cooking and baking as well.  She likes to make dishes with eggs, melted cheese, and popcorn.  Soon there will be too many cooks in our tiny little kitchen.

That's something I miss about our previous homes: there was enough counter space for two or three cooks to work at different tasks.  I enjoy cooking with my husband, with my daughter, or as a family of three.  When I visit my parents, one of us works on a salad, another prepares the dressing, and someone else prepares the main dish.  N- loves how her grandparents make the dressing: olive oil, crushed garlic and lemon juice.  Lemon has replaced mustard as her favorite flavor.

We spend so much time in the kitchen: putting away the groceries, preparing meals, cleaning up afterwards.  It's like the hub of daily living in the home.  I'm so glad I actually enjoy all this food-related work.  Even doing the dishes.  My mind wanders as I scrub and rinse.  I once saw a quote from Agatha Christie, who said she got some of her best ideas while washing the dishes, and I believe it.  And S- and I have had some pretty good conversations while one of us washed and one of us dried.

My dad makes this dish every time we visit: chicken, green peas, a homemade white sauce with penne.  N- cannot get enough of it.  Her grandparents on my husband's side of the family are excellent cooks as well.  N- has grown up tasting food of all sorts, and she loves it all.  When I would pack her lunches for school, I would put a lot of thought into what would keep her full throughout the afternoon, and I would decorate her napkin with colorful characters and loving messages.  She would bring those napkins home, usually unused, and she has them in a heart-shaped box in her room. 

[myhealthylifemagazine]

DO THE PERFECT DIET AND VISIT THE CHANGES IN YOU FOR A PERFECT FIGURE.

At least 95 out of 100 girls will consider dieting when their favorite dress is tightened, and many people will start fasting in the hopes of achieving a zero figure. But having a thin physique is not ideal. There are therefore some dimensions of the ideal physique. With this flawless physique, you don't appear underweight or exhausted. Therefore, in this ideal shape, in addition to your body shape, your face also gains brightness. The ideal diet for achieving a great body will be revealed to you today. You can accomplish something that will change you in a month with relative ease. This is the ideal diet that a knowledgeable fitness expert has advised you to follow.

He has also given some tips along with this diet.

Diet plan to lose weight

What will you do after waking up in the morning?

If you have a habit of drinking bed tea or coffee after waking up in the morning, stop it and when you get out of bed in the morning, that is, add lemon juice to a glass of water and take a glass of water. This new change is good for your body. But since the body does not want to get used to everything, change it after about a month. Start green tea after a month. And then drinking black coffee will do. But remember, month after month, you want to change your habits every month.

Now it's time for breakfast

Many people do not have the habit of having breakfast when they wake up in the morning. But remember, breakfast is also an important part of breakfast. Now if you have a question about what to eat for breakfast, make a schedule for the week.

Monday - Quinoa Fruit Salad.

Tuesday - Zucchini Bread Oatmeal

Wednesday - Brown bread, multigrain bread and peanut butter

Thursday - Oats

Friday - brown bread and egg omelets or boiled egg

Saturday - Quinoa Fruit Salad.

Sunday - Boiled eggs or scrambled eggs

(This is a schedule we normally make. You can change it to your liking and keep in mind that there is nothing more nutritious than a home-made breakfast.)

Breakfast should be plentiful. So these are some of the better options. Use less oil in omelet. Better to use olive oil. Vegetarians will be able to eat everything except eggs.

Note: Even if employees do not have time to eat a variety of breakfasts, you can go to the office early in the morning and eat these foods. But if you have a long journey, it is better to eat out.

Hungry again?

Even after having breakfast at home, when I go to the office, I definitely want to eat something. In this case, you can eat peanut butter, peanuts, or fruit. It will satisfy your hunger. This time, even if you take black coffee to get a little fresh, it can continue.

What about lunch?

It is said that lunch should be like a king and dinner should be like a beggar. That is very true. Because everyone is at work in the afternoon. In this case, the food is digested more in the afternoon than at night and the body needs it.

If you are carrying an ocean music box-like Egg White Frittata, Cottage Cheese Honey Toast, Moroccan Chicken Salad, and Smoked Salmon Nori Salad, very nice. Because this is the right meal. The body has the required amount of protein. You also eat vegetables on that occasion.

Tip: When making vegetables, reduce the amount of oil in them. If possible and if you like, cook in vegetable olive oil or at least coconut oil.

A glass of water before meals

To improve your digestion, drink a glass of water about 10 to 15 minutes before a meal.

What do you eat in the evening?

After eating at 1 p.m., at around 4 o'clock, hunger starts again. Then a lot of people eat some foods like bland sandwiches, soggy salads, and boring soups. But it wants to close today. With this in mind, you want to eat the fruit in the evening when you are hungry. If you want a lot of fruits in it, then eat something like watermelon, banana, papaya. Also, if you are a vegetarian, eat one or two small cubes of steamed cheese.

Tip: If you prefer to exercise in the evening or you can go to the gym in the evening or exercise, you can eat any of these before going to the gym.

Dinner Diet Plan Important

It is not possible to follow meal times due to the job. This is very true. Dinner should not be served after 8.30 p.m. Serve with a green vegetable. Avoid rice at this time. If you are going to eat eggs at night. So eat egg white omelet. Also, if you like milk, have a milkshake. Almond and fruit milkshake are complimentary food at night. It gives you protein. The reason for eating less at night is that at that time all your physical activities are slowed down. Naturally, your digestion is reduced. So eat less at night.

Note: Many people do not like wheat husks. If they like bread, eat it. Sorghum, millet, ragi, rice bread are good to eat anytime. Also, if you eat fish, eat fish curry regularly. Do not add sugar to fruit or dried fruit milkshakes. The important thing is to use skimmed milk for this.

After starting the diet

1. Now it is time to make a new change. You will feel that your stomach is not full for about a week. Something will feel less and less. I would like to eat snacks but it is quite common. One thing you have to remember is that you want to take care of your body. I want to explain to my mind again and again that it is better to eat than to eat because you are hungry. Diet will affect your body but your skin will become smoother and you will want this change. Because no one likes good smooth skin.

2. Diet is not about starvation. It's just a matter of time and proper diet. This is what we are trying to say. Now if you are thinking about how much to eat, don't eat until your stomach is full. Let there be some space in the stomach. Diet motivates you to eat according to your ability.

3. Changes do not appear immediately after dieting. The change takes a while. So don’t turn it off right away. If you have problems, you can change them. This means that if you are not tempted to eat at all, then once a week you can eat the food you feel like eating. But do not eat it as if you were hungry for too many days. E.g. If you feel like eating burgers, pizza, french fries, or cold drinks, eat them. But eat in moderation. 4. A simple diet will not make your body curvy. So you need to exercise a little. If possible, exercise at home. But let there be body movement. Go for a walk when you have time. Go if you can go to the gym. So you will also get proper guidance on exactly what exercises to do.

[dizzysdomain]

Helpful Tips To Lose Weight And Keep It Off

Helpful Tips To Lose Weight And Keep It Off It can seem impossible to lose weight, especially when you need to lose more than just a few pounds. In actuality, it isn’t as difficult as it seems. Here are some weight loss strategies that can help you in losing weight. In order to lose weight, monitor your daily calorie intake. Look for ways to cut bad foods out of your diet. Take any chance you can to eat alternative foods with less fat and fewer calories. Use your phone time to get in a little workout. Don’t stay seated when on the phone. Instead, move around and stay active. You don’t have to engage in heavy exercise. Just move around and the calories burned will add up. Chunky soups are a great way to stay true to your diet program. Do not drink up an excessive amount of liquid calories. Soups that have the larger chunks of vegetables help your body to feel full more quickly, as opposed to the creamier soups. If your chief fitness goal is to shed unwanted pounds, you should ensure cardiovascular workouts are incorporated into your exercise plans. This will increase you heart rate and help you burn more calories than weight lifting and other resistance exercises. You can find a cardio workout that is fun and easy to stick with because virtually anything that provides that extended heart rate increase will have the same effects. It is common knowledge that increasing your water intake will help you shed the pounds. However, you may not know that drinking iced water can make your metabolism work harder. Drinking icy water stimulates your metabolism to bring your temperature up. Switch up your schedule and eat your largest meal at lunch time instead of at night. Instead of a sandwich or salad for lunch, switch things up a bit and enjoy it for dinner. Because you burn a greater number of calories earlier in the day than at night, it only makes sense that you eat more throughout the day and not as much during the night. Rather than consuming the standard three meals per day, try to consume five or six smaller meals every day. This prevents you from eating bigger portions and also helps you avoid hunger throughout the day. Also, you will eat much less. A tried and true tip for weight loss is: avoid processed foods! Maintaining an awareness of how much processing your food has gone through will make you more selective about the foods you decide to purchase on your grocery runs. You will purchase less junk and unhealthy food this way and stick to foods that are high in fiber and natural ingredients. If your kid is struggling with weight, make sure that he or she sleeps enough during the night. Children grow while asleep; they burn calories while doing this. Children need to sleep for about eight hours every night. Teach your children about how sleep helps their bodies grow and why sleep is important. Liquid calories are still calories, so watch what you drink. All liquids other than water the smoothie diet have calories in them. The calories that are found in drinks like beer, Kool-Aid and soda will add up quickly. Always count the number of calories you are drinking to ensure you are staying on track. Give yourself rewards. Treat yourself to a dessert once a week. Don’t fall prey to the belief that you have suddenly blown your diet. It means you are aware you are doing well with your dieting plan. Do not look to be rewarded all of the time. Your new diet is a part of your lifestyle, not just a punishment. Try preparing a large batch of food every weekend, then dividing it into healthy portions and freezing each one. Stocking your freezer with healthy meals you can quickly reheat will help you avoid buying fast food or paying for takeout. Cooking in bulk may also save you money since you buy a lot of fresh ingredients at once and they’re all getting used. This prevents the food from rotting. If you have a sweet tooth, give angel food cake a try. Ignoring cravings takes a lot of effort and a long time. Angel food cake, as well as some others, are light and airy. Airy cakes tend to have a lower amount of calories, opposed to cakes that are more dense. A food journal can help you keep track of what you’re eating and how your diet is affecting you. Whenever you eat, record what it was, when you ate it and how you felt at the time. This lets you know exactly what you eat each day and maybe give you the reasons why you are eating. If you cook and eat a meal, portion your plate out and then put everything away prior to eating. This is much easier to accomplish when living alone or with only one other. You can keep food on your kitchen counter so you have to get up to get more food. Group exercise has proven to be an excellent activity that is fun, and gets people in the mood to want to do it each day. A stroll around the neighborhood can be enjoyable with friends. Play softball or basketball with your buddies. There are many fun group activities available that will help you lose weight. Make sure you know and understand the labels of the foods you are buying. Even though a food may be fat-free, it may not be entirely healthy. It may still be full of sugar and lots of calories, therefore becoming something to avoid. All of the nutritional information, on the label, is important. Read everything in full. The calories our body does not use do not just disappear. They are converted to fat. Therefore, if you are planning on going to bed, do not eat a large meal. You should try to eat only when you know that you will be active soon afterwards. This way, you will be able to use the calories you take in. Get started on your journey with weight loss using these great tips. Don’t be discouraged if results do not arrive instantly; results will appear. It’s important just to continue. Losing weight will happen if you work hard at achieving your goals!