whats your favorite kind of pasta?

i miss her every day

The Lost 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your shift ends and you’re ready to just be alone. It isn’t your first choice of work. In Sokovia, you had your own office and you worked from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Here, your resume can’t get you much else than the convenience store gig. Money is money. After all you’ve lost, it’s the only thing left in this world with any meaning.

You come up to the house. It’s a dour building with chipped brick and dark windows. One is covered on the inside with newspaper. The stairs to the second level creak with your steps and your keys jingle as you twist them in the lock. Everything is so loud.

Inside, the hallway is grim with shadows. You kick off your shoes before you enter and clutch the strap of your bag. You have a package of ramen left. You’ll choke that down and close your eyes.

As you come further down the hall, you slow down, odd shapes littered across the floor just outside your door. You get nearer and notice your door is open. How can that be? You always lock it. You double and even triple check.

You stop short of the mess of your meagre belongings across the floor. Three cans, carrots, beans, and pees are dented on their sides; your package of ramen is crushed, the seam split and spilling out broken noodles; your only other sweater is slashed down the front, the stitching unraveling all around the gash; and your bedding dragged off your bed and into the hallway. All that you have, not much at all, right there before you.

You look at the blackened doorway. You can see from there that the top hinge is broken, you can assume the lock is too. You don’t dare go any further as you fear someone lurking inside. You turn back to the door, contemplating whether to retreat or brave the unknown.

The lock flips back, grinding as the deadbolt slides back, and the door opens. You brace yourself as S enters. He looks perturbed even before he sees you. You press your lips together, staring at him dumbly. His eyes meet yours and his brows arch. Then his gaze falls behind you.

He reaches to flip on the light switch beside the door frame. He exhales, disappointment, and closes the door, locking it. He beckons you closer with two fingers. You’re too addled to refuse. You move towards him and sidle against the wall as he signals past you.

Almost militarily, he marches past you. He takes out his cellphone and shines the light ahead of him. His other fist balls as he nears your bedroom. He flashes the light inside as he comes to fill the doorway. You see the room glow before him as his eyes search.

“Dirty coward’s not here,” he snarls as he lowers his phone, thumbing off the light. “... find him.”

He pivots and slides his phone into his back pocket. He seems even bigger as he strides away. You gulp and follow him. 

“Um, sir, it’s–”

“Not okay,” he passes by the kitchen and through the shared front room, “that creep–”

“Really, it’s not– I don’t want to–”

“Thinks he can mess with you. I don’t like bullies,” he growls as he continues on briskly.

“Please, er, I don’t like confrontation. Or violence.”

“I’m not going to get violent,” he stops at the next hall and turns halfway, “just gonna scare him like he did you.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I do. You don’t get it but I do,” he turns back to his mission and stomps into the hall. 

You’re a few steps behind him as he gets to the furthest door. He hammers on it with his large fist. You cower and wring your hands. Your legs shake as the loud pounding rolls in your head like thunder; like buildings collapsing all around you as plumes of dust and smoke choke your lungs.

“What do you think you’re doing, you little worm?” S’s sneer fades as the sight of him grabbing the greasy man by the collar blurs to coloured orbs.

You don’t hear the man’s response or what comes next. You cover your ears and stagger back until your back meets the wall. The memories of your home falling down around you, of the streets littered with bodies, screams erupting from every corner, as horror rains from the sky.

A slam brings you back. You quiver and gasp as you look over. Your hands are clutched in tight fists against your chest, nails digging into your palms. S steps back on his heel as he glares at the closed door.

“Don’t think he’ll bother you ag…” his voice trails as he looks around, stopping short as he sees you towards the other end of the hall, “I… are you alright?”

You can’t speak or move. You just stand, blinking, trembling, as you stare back at him. He nears and you flinch out of his reach as he stretches a hand out. You force your arms down.

“I don’t like violence,” you whisper.

“I didn’t hurt him. Just scared him.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m sorry, I thought…” he pauses, recalculating as you turn your chin away. “I didn’t think. I’m really sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You shrug. You shake your head and drag your feet out of the hall. You cross the front room and go back down the next. You get down and start to gather up what you can salvage. The rest you’ll sweep into the dustpan.

“What are you going to do? Door’s broken.”

You stand up with the dented cans and your pillow. “Landlord.”

“She’ll have to call someone. She won’t answer her phone either. Too late.”

“What else can I do?” You mumble and go into your room.

You wade around the darkness cautiously but the lamp isn’t where it should be. You kick it with your foot. The overhead light doesn’t work. The space is illuminated by something else. You look at the star of light in the doorway, S’s silhouette behind it as he shines his phone inward.

You peer around. The smell of piss roils off the mattress. You can’t believe it. Why would he do that? To scare you? Why? You were nice. Except you didn’t let him in last night. The memory makes you shudder.

“Real piece of work. Hopefully Muriel finally evicts him,” S says, “I’ll vouch that it was him too.”

You don’t say anything. It seems like fate is against you. You can’t even have this shitty room.

“Tell you what, you can have my room for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch. The others don’t bother me.”

You hang your head, “I can’t…”

“Well, I can’t let you stay in here. Or out on the couch. If you won’t take it, I’ll just have to sleep outside your door.”

You roll your eyes, “why?”

He sniffs and lets out a long breath, “that’s what decent people do. They help each other.”

You’re exhausted and mortified and the smell of urine is making you sick. You don’t have the energy to argue. Not with this man. Just like the shake, you won’t win.

“Just the night,” you agree, “I’ll pay you for it–”

“I won’t take the money.”

“Please,” you beg.

“Keep your money,” he insists, “I have extra sheets. I’ll get those changed.”

You nod and stay in the darkness. You hug your possessions glumly, push your lip in and out as you wallow. You just need one good thing. Just one.

“How was it? The strawberry?” He lingers just outside the door as he shuts the light off, “I never tried it.”

You swallow, “a bit too sweet.”

things that bsd men would cheat on you with!

Fandom:Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings:Various Characters X reader

Genre:Angst (i mean it this time)

Warnings:Cursing(all done be me😌),Suggetive content,spoilers from the manga

A/n:im pissed as fuck right now😐ive been trying to write this post for three times,and the page suddenly goes blank in the middle of my writing. I'm angry bro.i also dont accept any type of criticism on Dazai's and Fyodors's part🚶🏻‍♀️have fun reading this! (if you can)

no offence to anyone btw

Haikyuu Edition

↬Atsushi Nakajima ⇝ i cannot believe you! are you seriously looking for something here? 😶

↬Ryuuosuke Akutagawa ⇝ His death (why god why)

↬Osamu Dazai ⇝ anything made with crab (crab cans, crab sticks, seafood boils that contain crab, noodles with crab, etc etc), whats that alcoholic shit he drinks at night?saki?, Oooo almost forgot:bandages, that waitress from the coffee house, all women tbh?, Chuuya😏(Dazai is my fav now btw lmao)

↬Chuuya Nakahara ⇝ Wine (he wont cheat, but he has a lot of shit going on, let him drink)

↬Doppo Kunikida ⇝ cheating is againts his ideals (little does he know he already is cheating on you,and with his ideals)

↬Michizo Tachihara ⇝ wont cheat (my ass)

↬Ougai Mori ⇝ do i really have to say it? i dont want to🚶🏻‍♀️ (and theres no shit you can do about it cuz its his fucking ability)

↬Yukichi Fukuzawa ⇝ bold of you to assume he'll cheat =\

↬Motojiro Kaji ⇝ Lemon, Lemon shaped bombs, Science

↬Junichiro Tanizaki ⇝ His sister (Bingo🚶🏻‍♀️)

↬Ranpo Adogawa ⇝ Pffft sweets🤭

↬Fyodor Dostoevski ⇝ has been manipulating you from the very beginning, and has literally no feelings for you. youre just a tool for him to achieve is goals (what? fight me🚶🏻‍♀️)

↬Sigma ⇝ his casino (just realised that we dont know his last name lmao)

↬Kenji Miazawa ⇝ Cows (why did i get him into this🤧)

was this supposed to be funny? yup. is it? oh hell no. do I give a fuck? nope. am I satisfied with the results? you bet. am I going to ask you to reblog after the pain I put you through? yes please…?🥴 but seriously,be realistic and please reblog :') (also im not on my period,but my tooth hurts as fuck so yeah)

Easy As

A Carmen Berzatto Universe

A/N: Here’s another request from my inbox - Carmen and Vanessa’s first date! This does not, however, include their first kiss. Feel free to slide more requests for these two my way :) Happy Sunday!

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Chapter 20: Dancing Bears

Carmen shifted in his seat at Trunk Noodle. He and Vanessa had exchanged a few texts since meeting at the supermarket last week and while he’d felt confident enough walking her through the neighborhood grocer, he was now sweating bullets.

He’d been stressed all day, from texting Syd to let her know he’d need the night off to figuring out what to wear – and attempting to manage his curls when he desperately needed a haircut.

He’d suggested the restaurant, which was a hole in the wall Vietnamese place in West Loop from which he frequently ordered takeout. He’d arrived 10 minutes early and was greeted by the staff warmly. They knew Carmen as a customer and a chef, and reassured him he always had a table.

At 7 p.m. on the dot, the doors to the restaurant, whose dining room was no bigger than a home’s family room, opened up and there stood Vanessa.

She was better looking than he recalled, and he’d had several days to romanticize her silky brunette hair and long kohl lashes. She beamed a wide smile upon seeing him and he stood, meeting her halfway in a brief, but tight hug before he pulled out her chair.

“It smells amazing in here,” she gushed before even saying hello.

“I love this place,” Carmen nodded, taking his seat. “I didn’t even think to ask if you liked Vietnamese, I just assumed,” he shrugged softly, a small smile on his face.

“I’ve never had Vietnamese,” Vanessa confessed, to which Carmen grinned, “but I have a feeling I’ll like it.”

Their server brought over shots of fresh coconut milk with lime before taking drink orders.

“Why don’t you order?” Vanessa suggested.

“Are you sure?” Carmen asked.

“Our server addressed you by name, so something tells me you’ve been here before – I’ll try anything,” she smiled. Carmen’s heart skipped a beat.

“No allergies?” He asked, closing his menu. He knew it front to back by heart anyway.

“None,” she shook her head. Carmen rattled off four or five dishes when the server returned with their Cokes and she gladly clinked her glass bottle against his.

“So you know what I do,” Carmen cleared his throat softly. “What do you do for a living?” He asked.

“I work in marketing,” she began, crossing her legs. “For a firm called Olson Group downtown, I’ve been there since I left school.”

“So what exactly does that mean? Like commercials?” He asked.

“Kind of – commercial adjacent,” she nodded, “I help clients of all industries, so retail, restaurant, tech and ecommerce with branding, advertising, public relations management, pretty much anything that’s public-facing for their company.”

“Who’s your favorite client?” Carmen asked, ready to listen to her talk about anything. He liked the way her mouth shaped around the words she spoke.

“Right now, probably United Airlines,” she grinned, “they’re doing this retro PanAm-type of throwback branding overhaul and it’s just been a blast going through old school inspiration and updating it to fit 2021, but with a nod to the past.”

“That’s a huge company,” he commented, surprised.

“Our firm does a lot of big clients,” she nodded. “Our headquarters are here, but we have offices all over North America and Europe – I got to do a transfer year in Luxembourg, it was one of the best years of my life,” she grinned.

“Are you from Chicago?” Carmen asked, realizing he was practically interrogating this woman. “Sorry, god, I don’t mean to grill you.”

“I’m an open book,” she laughed. “It’s like a universal truth that people enjoy talking about themselves, right? I am from Chicago,” she nodded, “and I don’t mean Evanston or Rockford, but Chicago.”

“River North,” Carmen nodded.

“Lincoln Park,” she replied. “But I should caveat I went to grade school in Evanston.”

“I see,” Carmen quirked a small, knowing smile. Vanessa couldn’t believe someone with eyes that blue even existed. There was something about the round of his shoulders, prominent nose and jawline that made Carmen breathtakingly beautiful.

“I knew it!” she laughed, “stop judging me!”

“I’m not judging! Just filing it away for later,” Carmen’s first laugh helped draw his shoulders down from his ears.

Dishes started to pile up on their table as plate after plate was delivered and Vanessa excitedly dug into everything she could, enjoying every bite.

“This one’s a little risky,” Carmen said, stabbing a piece of lemon pepper squid, twirling it about in a sauce before holding it up in front of Vanessa without second thought. She gladly leaned over their small table to take a bite.

“It’s so’good,” she moaned. Carmen’s arms broke out into goose bumps. “Everything is so good,” she commented, holding up her fork with excitement at the spread in front of her, deciding on what to eat next.

Carmen explained more and more of what they were eating and they compared the dishes, ranking them as conversation flowed.

“So why did you decide to come back to Chicago? Miss home?” Vanessa asked.

“Something like that,” Carmen nodded, averting his gaze to the table before looking back to Vanessa. He might as well be honest. “I actually hadn’t planned on it, but my brother, who owned The Beef, he died,” he said, picking up his drink. “And he left it to me.” Vanessa’s eyes softened.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Carmen,” she said with heartfelt honestly. “What was he like?” Carmen swallowed softly. People never asked follow up questions, and if they did, it was never that.

“Eccentric in the best way possible,” Carmen recalled the older days, cooking in their family kitchen and how he idolized Mikey growing up – before things changed. “He was a really good storyteller and knew how to bring people together.”

“Is he your only sibling?” Vanessa asked, taking another bite of her spring roll.

“I’ve got a sister, Natalie,” he nodded. “What about you? Only child?” Vanessa threw her head back with a laugh.

“Am I putting off only-child energy?” She asked. “No, I’ve got two sisters – Nicola, she’s 20 and goes to DePaul, and Hannah, she’s in sixth grade.”

“Three girls,” Carmen raised his brows.

“My Dad thinks it’s penance for his wild boy days,” she laughed. “He raised us on his own – he’s incredibly in touch with his feminine side. My mom died a few weeks after Hannah was born, drunk driver accident,” she offered, seeing as Carmen had really opened himself up by telling her about his brother, she felt compelled to do the same.

“I’m sorry,” Carmen winced. He wasn’t sure what was worse, losing someone by their choice, or against their will.

Vanessa simply smiled, reaching across to squeeze his hand on the tabletop.

“Do you think we could order more of these?” she held up her fork, which had speared a pork wonton.

“Anything you want,” Carmen said sincerely. He’d serve his heart up on a platter it meant she’d smile at him again.

After dinner was finished, they’d agreed to take a stroll and try to walk off their overstuffed stomachs. The weather was nice enough as Chicago approached the end of summer and they weren’t far from Oz Park, which Carmen learned was one of Vanessa’s favorite parks in the city.

Carmen skirted the side of the walkways that were closest to the street and when a large group of people came by, Vanessa deftly stepped closer into his side, tucking her hand around one of his biceps. His brain shorted at her soft skin pressed against his.

“Oh,” she said softly, pausing in front of the retaining wall of a brownstone where a small bear had been spray-painted just above where the wall met the sidewalk. “I need to take a photo quick,” she said, whipping out her phone and crouching down to snap a picture. “Bears are my favorite animal,” she explained, “which sounds really juvenile, but my sisters and I always send each other pictures when we see them out in the wild.”

Carmen gulped softly.

“Why bears?” He asked.

“It’s actually a story our Mom used to tell us that her mother told her,” she said, stepping back into his side and lacing her fingers with his. Carmen squeezed her hand softly as they began to move forward again. “There’s this belief in our grandmother’s culture that when you pass away, you come back reincarnated as an animal, and everyone wants to be a bear because they’re the king of the animal kingdom,” she explained. “So when people pass, they come back to the world as an animal and those that are bears are so happy, they dance,” she laughed. “I don’t know, it sounds silly, but it’s always stuck with us.”

Carmen paused, gently tugging Vanessa’s hand so she’d step closer to him.

“It’s not silly,” he assured. “It actually makes more sense than most things people have said to me about the afterlife – thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Carmen?” Vanessa asked as they continued their way toward Oz Park. He looked over at her, not minding when an errant curl flopped onto his forehead. “I know our first date isn’t over, but I’d really like to go on a second date.”

“Me too.”

Spring Roll for Your Thoughts

Dreamling / Domestic Fluff / Gentle Love / 2.3k+ words. Read here or on AO3

Being tired was something both Hob and Dream understood on a deep level. Hob had lived thousands of different lives, and Dream had been the thread that connected every weary mind to ever existed. It was safe to assume that both of them did, eventually, need to wind down and rest. Immortality did not grant Hob with a tireless body, and endlessness meant a forever working mind for Dream. 

As of late, the Lord of Dreams and King of Nightmares had been working day in and day out to maintain the new found balance of the Dreaming. Hob, on the other hand, had the noble job of shaping young minds and making sure they made it through in one piece until, at least, winter break arrived and they could put down the books for a little while. 

In the end, both of them were left overworked and exhausted. And that was how Hob and Dream found themselves sitting on Hob’s floor with their backs resting on the sofa behind them eating reheated take out Hob had ordered the night before but forgot to eat because of a call from a distressed student over low attendance. They ate silently, allowing each other a moment to just bask in the presence of a friendly face, offering everything and asking for nothing in return. 

Hob took a moment to watch as Dream manoeuvred the chopsticks with his left hand, holding the paper box with noodles as if his life depended on it. “…don't think I ever saw you this hungry, duck.” 

“I am only hungry when it serves me.” Dream didn’t look up from his noodles, ready to will another full box into existence. Hob surely knew how to make adequate choices when it came to his sustenance, if not only for the incredible satisfaction it gave Dream to eat half his fridge when Hob wasn't looking. “At this very moment, hunger is exercising its purpose better than other sensations.” 

Hob raised an eyebrow, worry creeping up his spine. “So you’re stress eating, is what you mean.” 

It was unbecoming of a king to speak with his mouth full, but Dream didn’t seem to mind, and Hob couldn’t help but find it endearing that in their home, Dream didn’t have to live up to his regal status. To Hob, he’d be a king even rolling in dirt.“That is an accurate way to describe it, yes.”

Hob sighed, running a hand through his hair, letting his head lean back onto the seat of the sofa behind them. His lower back hurt, and the softness of the cushion was not helping it. Only the hard floor could save him now. “Tell me about it.” 

He reached for a spring roll on a plate on his coffee table, stuffing his mouth full as if to save himself the trouble of speaking. It was Dream’s turn to look at him with worrisome eyes. “I have noticed an unusual disruption in your sleeping pattern as of late.”

“Hard to get any sleep with a stack of essays to mark that towers higher than the bloody Big Ben. It seems that whenever I’m close to being done, someone is in need of extra credit and I just can’t say no to those kids.” Hob knew if he started talking about it, he wouldn't stop. He reached for the box with the spring rolls, only to find it empty, before Dream did his thing and there was another perfectly heated shrimp filled pastry in Hob's hand. The perks of dating a creature that overanked gods, it seemed. "Thank you, love."

"It is also uncharacteristic of you to not speak on what troubles you."

"A spring roll for my thoughts?"

"Aye."

"Since you insist…" Hob sat upright, trying his best to fix his posture. 600 years of life and his back health had never deteriorated to that level before. "It's the bureaucracy that kills me. With so long since the invention of academia, you'd think we would've learned to treat students with a little more grace. Everything needs to be signed off, attendance is a pain in the ass and while I get that we have to hold the kids to some level of accountability– they are supposed to be fully integrated with adult life by the time they leave school– it is just absolute bollocks to think every kid is the same. That all of them respond to the same things or that Susie with the rich parents and Carla whose parents barely speak English yet pay for her tuition religiously on time are going to have the same foundations just because they passed the same admissions test. But I digress. I do this job because I love it, but it is a pain in the ass sometimes."

Silence fills the room for a moment, and the cogs turning in Dream's mind are almost louder than Hob's own voice had been just a moment prior. Dream places his box of noodles on the coffee table, shifting his position to sit cross legged facing Hob. His hand goes to his lover’s cheek, caressing the thin bruised skin under his warm brown eyes. When he spoke, his low register carried a softness saved only for Hob’s ears.“They are grateful for your kindness. While you have not slept, they have certainly managed more hours in my realm thanks to your understanding of their true needs. You prove yourself a fine servant of the Dream Realm, Hob.” 

Hob chuckled at the thought; of course Dream would praise him by saying he’d be a fine employee. But then again, thinking of the likes of Matthew and Lucienne and their excellence in serving Dream in not the way he wants, but the way he needs, Hob would be honoured to take the position. “Are you offering me a job, duck? Thought I’d at least be prince of the Dreaming by now.” 

Dream’s lips curled into a very self-satisfied smile, like a cat who got the cream and so much more. Hob’s cheeks burned red when he realised why. “Are you asking for my hand in marriage, Robert Gadling?”

“—I mean, I-“ Good job Hob, what an underwhelming proposal. As someone who fancied himself a master of his words, he was at an unprecedented loss for them. “—I was just-“ 

Dream moved quickly, straddling Hob’s lap and letting his pale, cold hands rest on broad and firm shoulders. The look in those blue eyes made Hob feel like he’d been nailed to the couch behind him, and if he looked long enough, he could see a galaxy yet to be discovered in Dream’s pupils. “Sir Robert Gadling, the Kind. Pure of heart and bright of mind. Prince Consort of the Dreaming. Lord of the Waking World and Patron of Apprentices. King of the Hopeful, Servant to the Faithful, Lover of the irredeemable.” 

Hob fell silent for a moment, unable to process Dream’s words in their entirety. A knighthood had once been the greatest honour bestowed upon him, undeserving as it was. Loving Dream and being lucky enough to be loved by him was a gift greater than immortality. “…Dream, my love-“

While Dream’s expression had been teasing and mischievous, now it had a softness Hob only ever saw early in the morning or right before falling asleep. Dream was unguarded, baring himself completely, allowing a vulnerability saved only for when Hob was drifting between states of consciousness. “Your title. Should you ever formally propose to me.” 

Hob smiled, full of love and the butterflies inside his stomach seemed to fly out though his teeth, breaking free from the cage of anxiety and dancing around that marvellous impossible creature sat on his lap. Hob’s eyes watered a little at the thought of them marrying; he never thought it a possibility. Now, Dream seemed to be strongly suggesting Hob should go ring shopping. 

“Dream of the Endless.” 

Dream’s brow rose up, lips still curled into a smile. “Yes, my Hob?” 

Hob finally allowed his hands to move, cupping Dream’s cheeks with both his hands and bringing his face closer to press soft, chaste kisses to his forehead, eyelids, cheeks and the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his rose coloured lips. “…my darling, my dream, my heart, my duck. My love, my love, my dear darling love…” 

“…is that my new title, Hob?” Dream’s voice was barely a whisper, unwilling to disturb the trail of kisses Hob was leaving on his face, eyes closed and shoulders relaxed as Hob’s hands steadied him in place. How wonderful his lover was, how gentle and how kind. How alive he made Dream feel. Vibrant, pulsating and real, so so very real. “Should I ask my subjects to address me as such? Hob’s dearest darling love?” 

The nervousness that had made home in Hob's stomach was soon evicted to be replaced by a warm, comfortable feeling of belonging, like having Dream sitting on his lap on a Thursday night on the living room floor was exactly as both of them were meant to be for all eternity. It made Hob feel grounded, fully connected to the monumental being he now held so gently in his arms, running his fingers through feather soft strands of dark hair, whispering his most precious hopes against the soft skin of his cheek.  "That would be something, wouldn't it? Dream of The Endless, Lord of The Dreaming, King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realms. Prince of Stories, Shaper of Forms, the Oneiromancer, Morpheus, Hob's dearest, darling love. I find it fitting, don't you?"

For once, Dream experienced something he imagined only his subjects would ever have the pleasure: the feeling of being lulled into sleep, of hearing the soft melody of a lullaby, the gentle plot of a bedtime story. He watched as Hob spoke, filled with awe for this wonderful, wonderful human that seemed to carry a multitude of beauty and mystery and love in its rawest form, all saved for Dream . It was the greatest honour ever bestowed upon him, being loved by Hob Gadling. 

Dream remained silent, watching Hob, whose smile was bright enough to make the Endless suspect the power of the sun lived inside the body of a human immortal. "...what is it?"

Then, the unexpected happened. Dream yawned . 

"Oh, tired, are we? Didn't think your body could get tired."

Hob's question was filled with gentleness and genuine curiosity. Dream had explained to him, at length, that the physical manifestation he inhabited in the Waking World did not require any of the maintenance human bodies did. However, it could engage in them if Dream wished to, or if he remained in his physical form for too long. While he was usually an illusion to those around him in the Waking, for Hob, Dream was willing to grow roots and experience the complete breadth of the human experience. That included, of course, feeling sleepy. "It can if I allow it. Or if I remain in the Waking for too long." 

Dream didn't think much of his own words, instead making himself comfortable in Hob's arms, letting his head rest on his shoulder and pulling his knees in, fitting perfectly in Hob's embrace. Hob, on the other hand, kept hearing his last sentence over and over again in his mind: or if I remain in the Waking for too long. How exhausted he must have been after 100 years of imprisonment. One hundred years, and not a moment to rest. Only a few hours the Dream Lord allowed himself to hide in Hob's flat, cooking Dreamstuff Spaghetti or going through Hob's vinyl collection, to then go back to work, returning only when an opening allowed him to. Those were sporadic, and while Hob could always visit him in the Dreaming (and be rewarded with powerfully restorative sleep), it still made him feel for his lover, always carrying everything there ever was and would ever be in his frail shoulders.

Hob sighed, holding Dream close. The weight of the universe in his arms was not as daunting as it used to be. Now, Hob had learned to welcome it with grace and reverence, but also with the intimacy that their relationship now allowed. He caressed Dream's back gently, humming softly against the top of Dream's head. Dream, in return, showed his gratitude by letting his hands grab Hob's shirt, holding on like an exhausted child, eyes fluttering closed without protest. Beautiful, that's what he was.

"...your back hurts."Dream muttered under his breath, drifting between the Waking and the embrace of the Dreaming. He didn't move, and Hob was almost startled by his voice. He was  getting used to Dream's un-humanity. "Would you wish me to relieve your pain?"

"No, duck… you were almost asleep–" Before Hob could say anything else, Dream's voice cut his own mid sentence. "...you need not move. I meant only to use the tools at my disposal to relieve your discomfort."

While Hob could protest the usage of "discomfort" to describe their current situation, he was smart enough to understand Dream meant it in the literal sense, as in, Hob's body was not favoured by their cosy little arrangement on the living room floor. Hob chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Dream's head, and felt a cold palm reach behind him to find his lower back. "Sure love, go ahead."

Before he could take in another breath, the pain was gone, now replaced by the feeling of water rearranging his spine into place. It felt funny, but wonderful, and he loved that Dream had his own little way of caring for Hob's wellbeing. It took him a while to understand that things like these were the equivalent of Hob's warm cup of tea on a bad day, or a hug when things felt overwhelming. It was just how Dream did things. That was fine by Hob. "...you're about to put my chiropractor out of business."

Dream only chuckled, burying his face in Hob's neck once more, pressing a soft kiss where his shoulder met his neck. "...I shall nap for a bit."

"Okay. I'll be here when you wake up. Maybe I'll join you." 

Dream smiled against Hob's neck. Hob smiled against Dream's hair.

"...sweet dreams, my dearest, darling love."

Letters from Watson: The Boscombe Valley Mystery

Part 2: The Fun Bits

Lestrade is a "Lean, ferret-like man." Let us all imagine Fur Noodle! Lestrade.

Holmes deferring his investigation of the case since it's unlikely to rain strikes me as him being potentially tired of traveling. It's presumably a period of fair weather, and there was a kid picking flowers, so likely spring, summer, to early autumn. He would have still had decent light if he'd gone, even if it is nearly four o clock.

The modern train ride from Paddington to Glouchestershire is about an hour and a half. Presuming that victorian trains were slightly slower, AND that lunch at Swindon was an occasion that they got off the train for, and that they had to get a ride in a cart from wherever the main Glouchestershire train station... 11:15 AM to about 4 PM still strikes me as a long time for this trip to take.

"Violet Eyes" I'm assuming that this means dark blue, though I was not able to quickly google when the English speaking world started considering violet and blue separate color categories.

Watson chucks a book again.

Also Watson's medical knowledge comes in clutch in this case. For those concerned, the occipital bone is the portion of the skull stretching from the spinal connection upwards, in the exact back. Parietal regions are around your ears.

The marriage that apparently James McCarthy and the Bristol barmaid have despite the barmaid being previously married isn't totally implausible. In the late 1800's you could literally just move and leave any records of your life - name, marital status, prior convictions - behind. Nobody was going to investigate unless you were already under suspicion of something else. Also, the first husband being in the Bermuda Dockyard suggests to me that he's a sailor, and therefore away a lot of the time. Sailors are not, stereotypically, necessarily faithful to their wives, or reliable about sending money home, so I imagine a nice young country gentleman made a pleasant social and financial change of pace for her.

George Meredith was a poet and novelist of the day. Noted once more for a focus on psychology and social change, like most of Holmes' other favorite authors.

"You do find it very hard to tackle the facts" on this reread I'm leaning more towards banter than rudeness in interpreting this one. Lestrade does not appreciate it though.

Left foot with an inward twist: I don't know if this means Lestrade is pigeon toed (toes point inward when the feet fall naturally) or if he has some other obvious shape discrepancy with his feet. Either way, my sympathies to the inspector, as my left foot is also not a prize specimen

Nous Verrons: french for "we will see."

First Contact: Ch. 2

The group of friends stared at the scene in shock.

Jericho: This... this isn't a hoax, right?

Charlie was the first one to break his stance. He carefully moved toward the bodies. Matthew instintively held out a hand to stop him, but didn't reach in time. He decided instead to follow him, as do the others one by one. There were 5 alien bodies. Each of the group gravitated to a different one.

Charlie approached one that seemed to be wearing a purple biohazard suit. It (she?) was one of the more humanoid like ones in the group. He tried waking her up, but she didn't respond. He put his head to her chest and was relieved to hear that she was breathing.

Daniel: Guys, this one's really hurt.

Daniel was hovering over a white alien wearing what appeared to be blue armour. This one was one of the more bizarre looking aliens. It appeared more like a raptor than a humanoid. Daniel carefully shifted it over to reveal it's face. Half of it obviously burnt, and covered in blue substance that everyone assumed must have been it's blood.

Daniel: I think it's breathing, though.

Charlie grimaced.

Charlie: What about the others?

Jericho peered around the largest of the aliens. It was a huge rounded one wearing similar armour to the white one, only theirs was red.

Jericho: I honestly can't tell.

Jessica hovered by a blue alien that for all intents and purposes could have been human if not for her skin and tentacle like appendages on her head.

Jessica: This one's got some burns on her limbs.

Matthew was kneeling by one that was humaniod shaped, but with green scales for skin.

Matthew: I think this one's okay. Just knocked out.

Charlie: I think this one's the same.

Jericho: So what do we do now?

There was a pregnant pause.

Charlie: I guess we call 911?

Matthew: No one would believe us.

Charlie: Well we don't have to tell anyone about them at first. Just report the crash?

Jericho: Is that even a good idea?

Charlie: What do you mean?

Daniel: Um, hello? We're talking ALIENS Charlie! Once the government finds out who knows how they'll react! What if they try to cover all this up?

Jericho: What if they want to dissect them all in a lab?

Daniel: What if the government kills us to shut us up!

Matthew: They wouldn't actually do that...

Jessica: Well they'd definately make us disappear!

There was another pause as the gang deliberated.

Charlie: Danny? You still have your first aid kit in the garage, right?

Daniel: Yeah.

Charlie: Then let's just take them back home. We'll just try to help as best we can there.

It took a few trips, but eventually the group got all of the aliens back home and laid them out in the garage. Daniel tended to the white one's face first.

Daniel: Hopefully there won't be any weird reactions to anything.

He continued his work on the blue one while the others watched. They were joined by Noodles, who was very determined to sniff the aliens but Jessica stopped him just in case.

Matthew: Well, they all seem stable, more or less.

Jessica: So what now?

Matthew: I think we need to watch them throughout the night in shifts. We should be there in case one of them wakes up.

Daniel: And when they do wake up? Then what?

Charlie sighed.

Charlie: We'll just have to see.

Jessica shook her head.

Jessica: I can't believe we're actually doing First Contact with aliens.

Jericho: I know, right?

The group shared a chuckle. After Daniel finished his work, the group worked out a rotation. The only thing left for them to do was to just wait and see.

~~~

Author's Note: Woo! Another chapter done! Just so it's clear, the aliens are Tali, Garrus, Wrex, Liara and Thane. Poor Garrus takes a rocket to the face no matter what AU he's in! As for how these 5 specifically got in the same pod and crashed on Earth? You'll just have to wait and see!

what is yandere fasma like?

[I'm sorry to disappoint but Fasma is not canonically yandere. I suppose I can humor the idea, though.]

(Minors dni)

Yandere Fasma would, without a doubt, be the protective type. He will take you under his wing as if you were a client of his and don't know a damn thing about living in civilized society. Consequently, this also means he would be a control freak. Call him when you leave home, okay? And tell him where you're going! No no, you can't go there, not without him.

He's not subtle, but it's easy to misinterpret his actions as platonic due to how much he still jabs at you. He's not the type to drop an "I love you" casually, you'll have to dig it out of him.

Fasma is also more likely to kidnap. It wouldn't be hard, finding work within The Clergy's Eye has granted him all sorts of connections, and besides, he's been there long enough to have a membership card and a very appealing sum of money stored safely in his account. He can easily find a place for the two of you to "live" in.

You may look at Fasma's little noodle self and think- Well, I'll just slingshot him all the way to next street if he tries anything... Fool. Even in this form, he has enough control over his own shape that he can melt out of your grasp very easily, or encapsulate your limbs within it. Nonetheless, this is where the second form comes in handy, as Fasma believes it makes him look more handsome to you. And, naturally, it's much easier to intimidate you into staying put with it. I wouldn't say he's violent, but he can very well physically incapacitate you for however long it takes for you to come around.

Shock of all shocks, this monster is nowhere near as sexually driven as Breg. Don't get me wrong, he definitely has the capacity to perv out. It's just that he's an old soul, all he wants are the creature comfort of having someone who loves him there, to spoil and talk to, cuddle, the good things in life he's missed so much. Also, you might be averse to the idea of a weird plasma-like ghost cock and he has no idea how to casually bring that up to you. Fasma will just suffer in silence for a while. You'll probably assume he lacks genitalia because of this.

Weird asks: 4, 23, 29

4. Mythical creature you think/believe is real?

I don’t actually know that there are any. I mean, does extraterrestrial life count? Because I believe in the existence of life not from this planet (maybe not greys? But statistically there’s got to be another planet with life on out there somewhere)

23. Do you wear jewellery?

I wear a pair of titanium hoops in my ears, a spherical silver stud in my nose, and I have three rings that I wear - two plain silver bands on my right thumb and ring finger and a puzzle ring on my right middle finger.

29. Preferred pasta noodle?

I’m gonna show my non-Americanness now and say noodles and pasta are very different things, and I’m not sure what defines a pasta noodle from just pasta or just noodles. And now I’ve typed noodle so many times I’m not convinced it’s even a word. But I’m gonna assume the question is asking what my favourite shape of pasta is, and the answer is either penne or fusilli depending on what the sauce is.

Pedantic, chapter five - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind and nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Chapter Five: Arthur ran.

AO3

----------

Doe was surprisingly easy to talk to.

Arthur found himself doing it at random times. “I can’t believe he signed me up for the fitness package! What the fuck!”

That asshole. Wanting you healthy. How dare he.

“That should be a question mark, you prick,” said Arthur.

Pedantic.

“No, that’s you,” Arthur huffed, clinging to the side of the pool.

“Now, Mister Lester,” beamed the physical therapist from hell, “you’re not done laps yet!”

“I’m sending godsdamned Kayne poison frogs for Christmas!” Arthur cried, and continued swimming while John laughed at him.

#

Yeah, can’t compare to my dinner, John said in response to the stunning lobster tail, corn succotash, and heirloom brown rice creation Arthur was eating. This was followed by what looked like mushy o-shaped noodles in a glutinous red goo, vaguely in the shape of a can.

Arthur choked and had to take a moment to reply. “Fuck, Doe, you’re paid better than that.”

Fuck, Lester, I like this stuff. Go fuck yourself.

Instead, Arthur took a picture of himself, mouth open, forkful of lobster poised and ready to chomp.

There was silence for a long moment.

Arthur chewed. Swallowed. “Choke on your pasta, Doe?”

Did you mean to send me that?

Arthur blinked. He squinted at his screen. “Uh. Why?”

It was hot.

Wow, okay. He could not see that. “Why?” Arthur said again, baffled.

The way you’re looking at the camera, intense and hungry and challenging. Your mouth, lips already reddened from eating. I can’t see what you’re about to eat, either—since I assume that’s what was going on—so it’s just… inviting.

“Oh.” Arthur had no idea how to respond to that. “I’ve never sent that kind of picture before.”

Well, you did a bang-up job for your first one.

Arthur’s face continued feeling hot as he finished his dinner and never came up with a good reply.

#

John sent four cat pictures in a row, and they told a story.

Photo one: Guy the cat peeks over the top of the counter. Photo two: Guy the cat is blurred in motion as she leaps for the countertop. Photo three: Guy looks moderately startled as the papers she landed on slide due to her inertia. Photo four: One paw and the tail of Guy the cat are visible as she falls over the other side of the counter, having pulled everything that was on it down with her.

So that’s how my day is going, said John.

Arthur laughed and laughed. Maybe he just hadn’t socialized enough in a while, but this little misadventure—including its disastrous end—was the funniest thing he could think of right now. “She all right? You all right?” he asked finally.

Yeah, yeah. She pulled my sandwich down, but free turkey for her, I guess.

That had not been conveyed in the photos. Arthur laughed again.

Aw, shut up, said John. Let’s get to phase two already.

“Sure,” said Arthur, disappointed they already had to get to work.

#

Arthur extended his stay. He was beginning to enjoy swimming laps—the control of it, the regularity, the focus required—and John was doing amazing work translating his design into reality.

It wasn’t the same as coding himself. It wasn’t; but it was still good, and he didn’t feel the terrible, itchy mental stuttering he did when not creating.

This could work. This… could really work. And the program they were creating…

This would save lives. This would enable wise decisions for the future—and for countries with greedy insurance, the TOS prevented this information being shared.

It’s not like all the details weren't already out there, anyway. All of it was publicly accessible. Anyone could have done what he and John were doing… if they knew how.

This personal database—connected to a highly secure and personal virtual server—would use every single record of every single known ancestor, including photographs with identifiable medical clues, to help predict what an individual might go through, genetically—and if he was right, it would be 98% accurate.

The results were fully owned by the individual. Not easily accessible by insurance, doctors, employers, or anyone else. It would, he hoped, help prepare people like him. He also knew it could be misused in the wrong hands. So… it would stay in his.

John’s. Technically. But his.

Nobody had to use it who didn’t want to, and any employer or insurance who tried would be open to such lawsuits they’d never try again.

It was good. It was useful. It felt right.

I think we’re ready.

Arthur took a deep breath. The sunset had turned the Hudson’s black sparkles slightly red, a portentous color, and he felt ready. “Do it.”

A link appeared in his feed.

He went through the process. Signed up. Had Cassilda read both the long-form TOS (listening so carefully for all legal wording—this was fucking specific), and ensuring the shortened TOS summary was clear and missed no pertinent details and provided no “out” for the unscrupulous.

John sent numerous texts explaining exactly how he’d secured all data.

So far, so good. Arthur finished signup and provided his personal information.

Within minutes, Arthur saw what he knew. Then, he saw what he didn’t know.

Tie-in information from unnamed DNA relatives. Information about how these unknown relatives had responded to space travel. Information how relatives he didn’t know he had responded to living under the sea or in the desert or high in mountains and rarefied air. Incredible.

Well?

“It fucking worked. Okay, hold on.” He logged in as administrator to see how it looked from the other side. Beautifully anonymized. Wow. “Did we do it?” whispered Arthur as the sun finally set. “Really?”

Tested successfully on systems as old as Play 1.3 and as new as 14 beta. I also signed up several times with slightly different info, but the same ancestry, and got the same results.

John have to have multiple identities to pull that off. Multiple social security numbers. Arthur was reminded the man was genuinely dangerous. “That’s incredible.” He poked around.

All the other “users” were anonymized, too. As a simple admin, he couldn’t see it.

What had John put into the system? If Arthur went into the back end now, Doe would see it. He could wait. Yes. “Share features?”

The proper warnings came up when I tried to share with you.

“Which you obviously didn’t go through with.”

Nope.

“You owe me something personal.”

A beat.

My connections are family. High up in the company.

Ooh! “Come on, Doe. Give me more than that.”

Fine. Kayne is my uncle.

Arthur spit out his drink. “WHAT?”

I promise you I hate him more than you.

“He’s your uncle?”

Step uncle. The worst.

Somehow, this made Arthur consider the fact that Kayne had family, which made him a human being, which made him (somehow) a sexual being, and Arthur groaned.

You okay? The text that just came through was weird.

Cassilda sent his groan? “What was it?”

Ooooaaaauuaaauaaah.

The program didn’t do any better reading it back.

Arthur laughed. “Oh, what the hell?”

He’s worth that response, believe me.

“So he’s why you have the job.”

No. He’s just a connection.

And Arthur lost his mind. “Am I really smart to trust you?” slipped out.

Yes.

The breaths between replies seemed too long. “Why?”

Because I’m on your side. I meant everything I said.

“I want to believe you.” He didn’t say the weight in his chest was terrible. He wanted John as a friend. He didn’t want the bad thing to be real. He feared what he might have entrusted, if John might betray him. A million fears.

How can I prove it to you?

“Tell me where you were until a year ago.”

Nowhere.

“Come on, Doe.”

Nowhere. I mean it. I was nobody, doing nothing. All of this has been a surprise to everyone.

“That makes no sense. You’re too knowledgeable. You didn’t just… absorb decades of information in a month.”

No, I already had the information. I mean… nobody knew it mattered that I did. I was found, like you.

“But I was found because I entered a contest.”

No, you were found because they were looking.

“What did you do that they found you?”

I was looking for more information. I ended up breaking into Carcosa’s systems because I wanted the data.

Oh, bullshit. "That didn’t happen.”

It did.

Bullshit! “Do you really think I don’t have monitoring set up? I’d have known.”

I circumvented it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck... “How?” Arthur demanded.

John told him.

Told him exactly how he exploited an issue Arthur hadn’t known existed, tweaked loopholes he'd never considered, dug up coding wormholes that just felt unfair, and Arthur knew it was the truth.

He felt… sick. No: he felt humiliated. “And you still wanted to help me after that?” he said, sounding angry, suddenly furious that the anger didn’t get translated. "I'm that easy to get around, all my hard work, all my fucking life's work, just like pushing open a door for you, is it?"

Don't be stupid. It wasn't easy. And yes, of course I want to help you. Your mind is

“Is what?” Nothing. “Is what?”

Beautiful.

Arthur wiped his eyes. Confused didn’t cover it. “You don’t know my mind. You don’t know me.”

I do. I speak your language. This program is my love letter to you, in your tongue.

Stunned.

Arthur was stunned.

Spooked.

Arthur was spooked.

Arthur did not know what to say.

Panicked.

Arthur freaked out.

Arthur.

“Cassdila, block…” Could he do it? Could he? No. Fuck. “No. Cassilda, silence all notifications from John Doe.”

Done, Arthur.

He couldn't stay still. Couldn't stay in sight of the home of the man who'd... done whatever this was, unraveled his supposedly brilliant code like a knot in yarn and then made him a 'love letter.' Arthur checked out that night and bought his own ticket home, and even after they’d given him the drug so he would sleep through the dangerously interdimensional travel, he still felt like he was running.

--------

CHAPTER SIX

Notes:

Guy was my spouse’s Siamese when we married, and yeah, she was a really special kitty.

Hello I can ask for headcanons for phase 1, 2d and noodles (child noodles see o/s as an older sister) that after an event that has really affected them, or / s comforts them by laying their head on their lap while caressing them and tells them that everything will be fine? I love you~

OH? EHEHEHEH!! I LOVE YOU TOO, CHII!! WEHEHEHHEHE

Thank you for requesting from me, I haven't gotten a request in so long! Mwah, mwah!

'M not sure what O/S means, so I'll just keep it neutral for now, hope that's okay! If it means something else, please just tell me and ill fix it right up for you! Again, so sorry!

GORILLAZ MEMBERS HAVE . . . Nightmares! Y/N comforts them / Noodle and 2D both have a nightmare so Y/N helps them fall back asleep!

relationship with Noodle is that she sees you as an older sister figure, 2D is not specified (at this time at least, self ship friendly, friendship friendly, etc)

gender not specified, pov is first person, usage of femmine terms and she/her pronouns for the reader

includes: Noodle and 2D, minimum mention of muds, only for funnies

triggers and squicks: nightmares in general, replacement, hair and teeth falling out, again, slight unsanitary part for 2D (two times)

Noodle

After Noodle had a nightmare of her hair falling out in big clumps, her teeth went along with the long strands. As it fell, it made a fucked up mini Noodle, all of it's body being made out of hair, except for its concave holes for eyes and orange slice shape for a mouth, underneath where its eyes should've been that replaced her, she found herself walking through the hallways of Kong Studios, you were the one to find her, were Noodle almost kicked you in the jaw out of panicked fear

So, leading Noodle back to her own room, she let her get comfortable in bed, laying her head on her lap as Noodle whimpered. "Oh the poor thing!", O/S thought, as she ran her fingers through Noodle's hair. In that calm, loving, and reassuring tone of theirs, O/S cooed, There there, everything's gonna be just fine.. It was just a bad dream, it didn't actually happen hunny.."

After a moments of sobbing and sniffling, Noodle had calmed completely down. Infact, she had relaxed fully in O/S's lap! Now how would they back to her own room without waking Noodle up..?

2D

This was turning into an eventful night for you, as you had managed to escape without waking the snoozing Noodle, but now, 2D needed comforting too, as he had a nightmare as well.

It started with you just coming in to check in on him, and as soon as you open the door just a creak, 2D was up. After feeling all over himself, counting his fingers and toes and fingers once again, he grabbed for the multiple covers thrown on the floor.

Ohh boy, it was gonna be a lonnngg night for you, it was so obvious. Stepping in, you startled a shivering 2D as you slowly touched his head that was covered with layers and layers of blankets and covers.

After that, it was easy for you. He apologized for snapping his up to look at you, assuming he frightened you with his odd behavior, where he confessed that he had a nightmare, wouldn't say what, exactly, but asked you to lay on him as Murdoc had stolen his weighted blanket once again (Murdoc is actually semi dead under that blanket, he dutch ovened himself, rip Mudz)

Having you lay on him wasn't helping, so instead, you offered to do what helped Noodle, where he repetitively shook his head yes. With his head in your hand while still being hidden under so many covers, you coo'd at him soft comforting words, reminding him it was all a dream, it would never actually happen, that you make sure it wouldn't happen, and that it would be o-so-fine, there was nothing to worry about

Ah, he uh.. dozed off too, and began to drool heavily, so much so, that the drool leaked through all of the blankets and made its way to leg, ah.. how, uhm... nice.. of him, hueughha

Mother Nature Headcanons

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

🌱Mother Nature loves it when her children visit. She will make tea and crumpets (or cookies it depends on which kiddo visits and what they prefer) and she will make dinner for them. (Unless they insist on cooking her something, then she will reluctantly let them)

🌱Mother Nature is aware of how some of her children are touch starved even if they haven't told her. She is very observant and has lived a 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 long time, it's extremely hard for them to fool her. She will make sure to give said children plenty of affection and attention to show that she cares and say plenty of loving words to help soothe them and show that she does indeed love them. She gives them many hugs and occasionally pinches their cheeks. (She thinks it's sweet to see them get embarrassed and complain about it. I guess it's just a universal mom thing.)

🌱Mother Nature has been known to either take in stray animals or find them a good home. She will treat their wounds if they had any and would feed them before looking for a loving home. (Just in case whoever she gives them to can't afford to take them to the vet to treat wounds)

🌱Mother Nature is an amazing cook, she's even better than Heat Miser. In fact, Heat learned most of his cooking tricks from her. Eating her food brings nothing but bliss. Seriously, it’s amazing.

🌱Mother Nature has one of the most beautiful gardens you will ever see. It's practical and it's 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦. It has your common fruits and vegetables and some exotic ones as well. Though, the things in her garden may vary depending on the season or year. Every couple thousand years she switches things up and adds some fruits and veggies that the garden hasn't had in a while. Such as, Amla, Lychee, Rambutan, Taro, Chayote Squash, and Fiddlehead. It's unknown why she changes it up but it's assumed that she just gets bored.

🌱Mother Nature has a antique purple velvety chair by a window in her home where she sits and knits. Sometimes she'll sit and read a book or quilt a blanket to relax, but that depends on her mood.

🌱When you first enter Mother Nature's territory (Assuming you're entering through the pathway) there's a long path to her house with rows of white flowers on the sides. Morning Glories, Daisies, Lillies, White Roses, and White Tulips. Once you enter her yard the white flower trails end and turn into beautiful colourful flowers of all different shapes and sizes wrapping around her entire yard.

🌱Not much is really known about Mother Nature, even her own children only know so much about her. All that is known by most is that she is extremely powerful and is a force to be reckoned with. No one has ever dared to insult or threaten her. Which, by all means, is understandable.

🌱Mother Nature's favourite meal is homemade chicken noodle soup. She has her own recipe and it always seems to brighten her day, even if she is in a bad mood. She claims it heals your heart and soul, based on her cooking skills it probably does. (Enchiladas are a close second on the favourite food list)

🌱Mother Nature tends to be protective of her children, she is aware that they can care for themselves, however, if she hears they are in a bad situation such as a fight against someone she will help in any way she can. Though, just because you are enemies to one of her children doesn't mean she will also consider you one. Half the time her children tend to be a bit dramatic, so she will judge you herself and decide if you are a friend or a foe.

🌱Mother Nature's aura tends to be a bit overwhelming when you first meet her, she is Mother Nature after all. But after you get over the fact she's 𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 and the fear that she might judge you for being human (which she won't but most mortals worry about it) and the fact she controls all of nature and is  one of the most powerful beings on earth, her energy is actually quite calming, motherly even. It's like a warm hug and it almost gives people a feeling of nostalgia.

29!

29- preferred pasta noodle?

Im assuming this means the shape/cut

Tbh penne is the one i go to. Its easy to grab, you dont have to roll and roll and roll on your fork or whatever

🦇🐍🐻?<333

🦇 Spooky Scary ➳ Did you ever have an emo/goth/alt phase? Was it just a phase?

yeah I had an emo phase from when I was about 13 to 17 years old. Still listen to the music a lot but I dont dress outwardly emo anymore, plus my hair is only just recovering from the constant dye and back combing😭

🐍 Danger Noodle ➳ Do you ever feel like you're misunderstood? In what ways?

I'm just not like the other girls- lmao no but fr I do, people assume I'm mean and uninterested when the reality is I'm just an introvert who can't start a conversation. But if someone else starts talking to me I'll sit there for hours

🐻 Mama Bear ➳ Would you consider yourself the "parent" type (whether it be with actual children or your friends)?

nope not in anyway shape or form. I am in fact the mess of the friendship group who can barely keep myself alive let alone another child, and I'm far too much of a disaster to keep on top of my friends lives as well as my own😅

The ‘Love Island’ Guys Have Fallen for Foam Sandals. Should You?

Cushy, easy and intriguingly futuristic, EVA shoes are everywhere this summer. Why brands from Balenciaga to Allbirds (yes, Allbirds) are embracing the squishy stuff.

THIS SEASON on the British reality dating show, “Love Island,” the male contestants have made lasting commitments. Not to their female suitors, mind you, but to the chunky foam slides with jagged soles that have become staples of their poolside ensembles. The men’s shoes stand out for two reasons: 1) Their typically neon shades are even more luminous than their owners’ permatans; 2) The guys aren’t wearing much else.

These Lotharios are perfectly on-trend. More than two years since Adidas Yeezy sparked the craze with its futuristic-looking Foam Runner and puffy slides, the new breed of shoes crafted from EVA (ethylene-vinyl acetate) foam has become a hyped summer fixture for men from London to Los Angeles.

Agenda-setting labels have embraced the plastic. This season, Balenciaga is pushing angular black designs with slashes around the toes, while cult Japanese brand Suicoke is treating the world to split-toe EVA slippers. You’ll find tastefully squishy black sandals from Sweden’s Cos and orthopedic-looking slides from Allbirds that Silicon Valley bros will no doubt snap up. Los Angeles brand Rose in Good Faith deserves honorable mention for crafting EVA sneaker-sandal hybrids out of faulty, unused sex toys—giving new meaning to the term “foot fetish.” And at New York streetwear mecca Kith, more commonly associated with Air Force Ones than beachy sandals, foam slip-ons from brands like A-Cold-Wall often sell out immediately, reported salesperson Chris Goings.

If not exactly environmentally friendly, lightweight EVA resists water and absorbs shocks, making it a favorite material for unstylish items like exercise mats, hockey pads and pool noodles. So why are footwear brands suddenly so stoked about it? One factor, said New York personal stylist Turner Allen, is the “creative freedom it offers.” He added that “it can be manipulated into any shape or color.” EVA is usually injected into a mold and willingly assumes out-there silhouettes that more traditional, less protean materials like leather can’t rival.

Mr. Allen personally favors Fear of God’s EVA mules. Released in 2021, they have a smooth, domed shape that recalls flying saucers. They also demonstrate the relative affordability that is making foam footwear so popular. At about $200, Fear of God’s foam mules cost roughly one-quarter of its $795 leather ones.

Another reason why men are foaming at the foot? The shoes are undeniably handy. They add a mere whisker of weight to your hand luggage, and after a beach trip you simply run them under a tap to wash off sand. But you needn’t be on a summer jaunt—or a sun-drenched reality dating show—to enjoy these neo-shoes. Mr. Allen, the stylist, suggests wearing foam sandals or slides “as you would a casual sneaker,” though he’d skip the socks when pairing them with shorts.

Other guys build their outfits around them. Timothy Castillo, 25, a registered nurse in New York City, is a fan of tan Yeezys. He “spruces them up” by teaming them with printed socks in a lighter tan hue, a matching shirt and louche black pants. It’s a bold, coordinated outfit—and, he said, the blocky shoes have “a nice silhouette that’s more interesting than flat sandals.”

Kith’s Mr. Goings said EVA sandals align nicely with the post-lockdown appetite for comfort. Their fashionability, he said, comes from their breezily laid-back appearance. So “don’t think too hard about how to wear them,” he advised. After all, he added, these are shoes of leisure.

The Wall Street Journal is not compensated by retailers listed in its articles as outlets for products. Listed retailers frequently are not the sole retail outlets.

The Historical Past And Tradition Of Rice Delicacies In Japan Discover Oishii Japan

Various curry dishes are found throughout South Asia. Certain foods and food preparations are required or proscribed by the religiousness or sumptuary laws, such as Islamic dietary laws and Jewish dietary legal guidelines. Cuisine is borrowed from the French that means cooking, culinary artwork and kitchen. Taiwanese cooks have been extremely profitable overseas cooking each Taiwanese and worldwide delicacies. Taiwan, in notably Taipei, is regarded as having a number of the finest Japanese food outdoors of Japan. Thanks to the health advantages, this country’s iconic meals can also be loved by many individuals around the globe. Admittedly, there are lots of Kimchi-based meals in Korea. Here are some Korean noodle dishes the individuals love and which would possibly be enjoyed the world over. Tteokguk is beef broth boiled up with rice cake. It is very popular on Lunar New Year’s Day, which is probably certainly one of the largest holidays in Korea. 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