#i am never going back to using regular bread for it again

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

You!

Yes, you! Garlic bread loving person!

Make french toast with garlic bread. That thick cut, pre-garlic buttered bread that they sell in bags at the grocery store. Make french toast with it. Two eggs and a splash of milk will make 4 slices with that bread. Which will fill you up with delicious garlicky eggy joy.

I don't wanna hear 'But french toast is supposed to be sweet!' or 'Where's the vanilla and powdered sugar??' No. Let's make 2025 the year of the savoury french toast. Join me in this delight.

[midnightorchids]

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting. 

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more. 

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it. 

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself. 

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey. 

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped. 

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

-

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

-

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

-

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

-

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Han Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️ (P.S. I should also mention that this one is a little bit suggestive but it's not horrible)

Ah, our sweet baby Jisung. I can see his first ever experience of weed coming through a joint. He always thought you looked badass when you smoked joints, and he always wanted to give it a shot. And while he did end up having a coughing fit the first few puffs (because he really just didn't want to listen to you since "you figured it out for yourself, so I can do the same"), he actually found himself getting really relaxed from smoking said joint.

Little did he know what was in store for him. See, Jisung, when he's high, can blab. And blab. And blab, and blab. And um, well...

Blab.

He completely uses his filter, and just says anything and everything that comes to mind. And I mean anything. Jisung will voice out one thing, and then will switch topics instantly. Something like this: "I'm really excited about my new song, because it's written in the sense that I've now found who I'm supposed to be, and I really think that...you know, you look really hot. We can come back to this topic later, I just...can we just fuck really quick?"

Oh, and it's not just this kind of switch. This man is also a foodie. Yeah, he can be craving you and want to dig in between your legs and stay put for forever, but he'll also want to eat just a shit ton of meat or junk food. No veggies though. Veggies are dumb, and they don't mean anything. But he can talk about work, to you, to sex, to wanting to have sex, to really just wanting a juicy burger from that one fast food place that's nowhere in Korea.

Now, Jisung doesn't have a filter when he talks when he's high. But if you thought that it was just that? You're VERY wrong. Jisung also doesn't have a filter when it comes to when he's actually physically doing things, too. Like, he just acts first, and then thinks later.

He'll be talking, and then go to the kitchen and take a piece of bread before stabbing it a few times. And then he'll eat it. Just...right then and there. And when you ask him why he did that, he'll shrug, saying "I don't know man, isn't it common sense to kill things before you eat them?"

So now comes the question of, "Will he do weed again?" And my answer for you is that yes, he will. He really enjoys how relaxed and carefree he is, and he feels like it's a great way to bond with you, too. Also...he just...he likes feeling like a badass with his tattoos and smoking a joint. Y'know?

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[laroserie]

i probably won't extend of that expect if people want me to (still scared of getting told to kms for writing about hh or hb) but !

the idea of (yandere? not necessarily but i am a yandere fan) Alastor whose darling/the reader is a baker!

the reader is of course a sinner, but they aren't someone that ended up in hell for something like murder or a really big sin, something more silly, petty. they were in hell for a while, they accepted that they were stuck there and decided to just keep on 'living'

so they open up a bakery, maybe they were a baker when they were alive or maybe they just like to bake - either way, they open their little bakery in a part of the ring of hell that is kinda better off then the rest, one part where their store is less likely to get burned down.

they will somewhat peacefully - outside of when the extermination happen, they fear for their life - and they still aren't sure as to how they survived that many years in hell. and they often have to get their shop fixed up after the yearly extermination. that bit is annoying but outside of that, life is as peaceful as life in hell can be.

before Alastor disappeared for seven years, he used to be a somewhat regular customer, you made some pretty good breads and pastries. it was when he was starting to get more and more powerful as an overlord so you were very much on the verge of passing out everytime he came in the store and tried to limit the amount of words shared between the two of you. you never knew if you ever slipped and ended up offending him, you didn't want to be an another one of those broadcasted scream.

but once he reached his peak, a few years before his disappearance, you stopped being this tensed up around him, you started engaging in small talks with him, it wasn't anything extraordinary, mostly centering around the weather and what he choose to buy this time. at some point you even started to ask him to sample one of your creation before officially selling it.

you ended up being somewhat attached to the radio overlord.

and then he ... was gone. for seven years. you were somewhat sad about this, but you were not THAT close to him so you get over it.

but one day, while going about your day, while serving a customer you hear something weird, about a certain overlord being back.

you don't really believe in it, until you hear one of his broadcast, a small smile creep on your face hearing it. you're happy to hear him again, to know he is still alive and well. but you don't expect to see him in person or anything like this, you doubt he even remember you but one day, one morning shortly after you opened the bakery - you heard the little noise made from the bell of the entrance alerting you that someone has opened the front door, and you see him.

without thinking much, you smile at Alastor and give him a warm 'Good morning !' and again, without thinking you add 'It's been a while, glad to see you're back.' you only realize that one of the most powerful overlord could not like a measly sinner to talk to them like they are a friend when they are barely acquaintances that haven't seen each others in seven years.

but before you can correct yourself and let out a ton of 'sorry please don't kill me' Alastor answer you with a 'Hm, yes it's been quite some time. I am glad to see you still running this bakery dear.'

you simply nod at him and decide to ask what you ask every customers 'So what will you get today ?'.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Gorgon Chapter 5

Summary:  The village nearest the mountain by the sea has a generations-old tradition of offering sacrifices to the monster in the mountain to gain favor and keep its wrath away from the people.  Every person starting from the age of 15 has to take a turn in making the journey up the mountain to the mouth of the cave once a year to drop off the gifts…and it’s a journey that some never come back from.  Y/N took her turn when she was 15, and now the rotation has come back to her again.  If the gift isn’t given by the autumn solstice, there’s no telling what harm the creature will wreak onto the people.  With a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in her way, will she make it to save her and her people?  Can a monster have a heart?

Warnings:  language, violence, attempted sexual assault (not from Bucky), gore, eventual smut *monster!bucky barnes

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Bucky stayed with her from then on.  She had him help around the bakery, introducing him to her regular patrons as a friend who came to visit her.  He slept in her bed, and as close as they had become, and with how curious Bucky was to learn about his new body, they hadn’t done much more than kissing and touching.  She continued to teach him all about living a normal human life, as well as some more reading and writing lessons.  He was getting used to it quickly, and loved getting to be around people and talk to others.  Before they knew it another month had gone by and Master Stark approached Y/N one day in the bakery.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted her.  “Do you need help getting anything together for your next sacrifice?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and Bucky stiffened behind her.  “Oh, um, no.  I think I’ve got everything I need.”

“When will you be leaving?” he asked, glancing at Bucky behind her, who was facing away and kneading dough.

“I…in a few days,” she said carefully.  “If I think of anything that I need assistance with I’ll let you know.”

“Wonderful,” Stark smiled widely at her.  “I’ll take a loaf while I’m here.”

Y/N nodded as she wrapped a loaf of bread for him.  He paid her and left shortly afterwards.  Y/N exhaled once the door closed behind him then turned to look at Bucky who was already looking at her.  “What do we do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head.  “We could both go?”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Bucky shook his head frantically.  “I want to stay here with you.”

“I’m not saying you would stay there and not come back with me,” Y/N reassured him.  

Bucky sighed, looking out the window watching the people walk by.  “Why can’t we just tell the people what I am?” he asked.

Y/N frowned.  She didn’t know how the people would react if they found out that Bucky wasn’t just another man.  They seemed amenable to the fact that the monster in the mountain had saved her and had been kind to her, but that didn’t mean that finding out the monster could shapeshift and had been living among them for a month would be taken as lightly.  She sighed as she tried to think through the options.  “I’m afraid of their reactions,” she said.  “I don’t know how they will treat you if they find out.”

Bucky frowned as well and looked down at his feet.  “I could reveal myself,” he said.  “That way if they try to do anything I could get away more easily.”

Y/N’s frown deepened.  “But you’re not completely immortal now,” she said.  “What if they hurt you as a Gorgon?  Would you heal?”

Bucky stared at her.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know how any of this works now, with it being so long in this form.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her fingers rubbing her temples.  “I think…let me talk to someone,” she said, her eyes flying open as she thought of something.  She grabbed the key to the front door and locked it, putting up a sign saying they were closed before turning to him.  “Stay here.”

“Where are you going?” he asked worriedly.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, walking back to him and holding his face in her hands.  

Bucky sighed again but nodded before leaning down and kissing her.  Y/N kissed him back and smiled before heading out the back door.

***

Y/N really didn’t like coming to the Seers if she didn’t have to.  The way they spoke in riddles and rhymes always grated on her last nerve when all she wanted was a straight answer.  She knocked on the door to their shared home at the witchery and waited.  There was a scuffling sound and then the door swung open to reveal Wanda.  She smiled and hummed at Y/N before gesturing for her to come in.  Y/N thanked her and stepped inside.  The house was always littered with things that she couldn’t even name, jars filled with strange herbs, dead animals, bones, flowers and other plants hanging upside down from the ceiling, and symbols that had been carved into different doorways and along the walls.  Wanda led her over to the sitting room that was next to the kitchen, where Agatha and Pietro were mixing things together.

“Ah, Y/N,” Agatha called out.  “I was wondering when you would come.”

Y/N frowned at her.  “So you know why I’m here then?”

Pietro watched her speak then smirked.  “You brought peace.  He’s been living with you for weeks.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised at his words.  “What do you mean?”

Wanda started signing and Pietro watched her intently.  “You tamed the beast and brought us peace that was foretold.  If he stays, you’ll be happy til you’re old.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Forgive my rudeness, but I’d love a clear answer.  If he reveals himself, will the people be kind?  Will they accept him?”

Pietro smiled.  “Change is hard, both for them and for him.  With love and kindness, acceptance will win.”

Y/N’s mouth tightened.  “Is that a roundabout way of saying yes?”  Agatha, Wanda and Pietro all nodded.  She nodded and hung her head.  “Then I’d like to call a village meeting.  Tonight.”

***

After going over the plan with Bucky, Y/N walked out of the bakery with him later that night.  The villagers filed into the village meeting room that had been built for everyone to be able to attend and know what was going on in the community.  Everyone took their seats and looked around curiously at each other, a thrum of whispers and mumblings echoing in the small space.  Master Stark stood at the head of the crowd with the Seers nearby.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said.  “Our sacrifice giver, Y/N, and the Seers called this meeting tonight.”  He gestured to them and sat down.

Y/N stood with Bucky at the front.  “You’ve all met Bucky,” she said.  Everyone nodded with smiles.  “He came about a month ago to visit me.  But he is not who I said he is,” she said, trying to keep her tone even, breathing deeply as her nerves fluttered.  “He is my dear friend.  And he is also…well…” she looked at him and Bucky nodded.  “He’d like to show you.”

Another chorus of whispers occurred as Bucky stepped forward.  He sighed heavily before bending over, then grunted as his body started to spasm.  The people all looked concerned, some starting to stand up until he wrenched back and screamed.  Y/N watched on in worry, but stayed back.  Bucky’s legs fuzed together, the scales popping up over his brow and down the long sprouting tail.  The second torso started to rip through his stomach, the second set of arms flailing through the skin.  It was horrific, and obviously painful as he tried not to yell and scream but couldn’t help himself, his face twisted in agony.  The villagers all let out sounds of shock and horror, many of them trying to make a run for the door but the Seers had already blocked it.  After what seemed like hours Bucky finally stilled, panting heavily, still doubled over on his four hands.  Y/N slowly approached him and touched his shoulder.  He looked up at her and she smiled at him as she wiped the tears and sweat from his face.  The villagers all sat watching in silence at their interaction.

Y/N looked back up at the people as she helped Bucky right himself.  “Bucky is a Gorgon.  The monster in the mountain.  But he is also kind, sweet, smart, loving, and honorable.  He saved me from the men who attacked me.  He cared for me when I was injured from that attack,” she said.  “We do not need to make sacrifices, but give kindness and acceptance.  He wants to stay here with me, with all of us, and live a human life.”

“And how do we know he won’t turn into this and hurt or kill us if someone wrongs him?” someone called out.

“Because the shapeshifting will only last for so long,” Y/N explained, holding Bucky’s arm next to her.  “At some point it will become difficult, if not impossible, and he will stay human.”

The villagers watched them both for a long few minutes.  Bucky looked at all of them warily, his eyes flicking from person to person.  They had all been incredibly nice to him over the past month, but now it all seemed unsettling and unknown.  A small girl, Cassie, who had taken a liking to Bucky as she came to the bakery for goodies, broke through the crowd.  Her mother, Maggie, tried to pull her back but she yanked her hand out of her grasp.  She walked up to the front and stepped in front of Bucky who loomed over her.  She looked at him curiously before reaching a hand out and touching part of his scaly body.  Bucky exhaled as she lifted her hands and made a grabbing gesture with her fingers for him to pick her up.  He glanced at Maggie who was watching in fear but then reached down and lifted her up, holding her gently against his chest.  Cassie put her hands on his face, touching the scales above his brow and into his hair, then his ears, his nose, his chin, then pulling at his lip to see his sharp teeth.  He playfully bit at her fingers and she giggled, making him smile.  

Maggie then slowly walked forward until she stood next to Y/N, watching Bucky with Cassie.  She slowly smiled and reached out for Cassie, Bucky handing her over carefully.  Maggie then held a hand out to Bucky, and he gladly took it.  She squeezed his fingers then dropped his hand and turned to the other people watching on in awe.  “I trust him,” she said.

“I trust him!” Cassie yelled, making Bucky smile wider.

Slowly, one by one, the rest of the villagers all walked closer to see Bucky and talk to him more in his true form.  The Seers were last as they were led forward by Pietro.  They each held a hand out and placed their hands on Bucky like they did Y/N all those months ago, with Agatha on top of his head and Wanda and Pietro on either side of his face.  All three of them had bright smiles as they felt him.  “With love and kindness, acceptance will win,” Agatha repeated the words from earlier.  

Bucky smiled back at them.  After all was said and done, everyone went back to their houses to retire for the evening.  The excitement of the night exhausted them all.  Bucky and Y/N headed back to her bakery.  Once they got inside Bucky hugged her tight.  “Thank you,” he said quietly into her hair.

“No need to thank me, my love,” Y/N said, kissing his chest.  “I’m sorry you had to shift again.  It looks like hell to go through.”

Bucky sighed as he released her and headed toward the back room.  “And I’m about to do it again,” he said.  Y/N followed him quickly as he settled his larger body in the middle of the room.  “As efficient as this is,” he gestured to his body, “I’ve grown fond of the legs.  And the cock,” he winked at her.

Y/N laughed as she sat next to him on the floor.  “As have I,” she winked back at him.  She held his hand and they sat in silence for a moment.  “Can I do anything to help you through it?” she asked, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.

Bucky shook his head.  “Just…stay with me?”

Y/N nodded, turning her body and kissing him.  “Always.”

Bucky smiled at her and gestured for her to sit on the bed.  Y/N moved out of his way, and once she was settled he breathed heavily before grunting and bending over like he did before.  Y/N decided this shift was much worse as his body shook and the second set of arms and torso cracked and contracted back into his upper torso, the tail shrinking then splitting into legs, the ripping noise of skin and scale resounding in her head.  Bucky tried not to scream again, grunting and whimpering as he flinched and gritted his teeth through it.  Finally it stopped, leaving him a sweaty, shaking, naked mess on the floor.  Y/N immediately went to him, pulling him off the floor and to the bed where she held him against her chest, pushing his hair off his face as she wiped away the sweat.  “I’ve got you, husband.  It’s okay.”

Bucky shivered in her arms as he tried to relax.  They stayed like that until he finally stopped shaking and looked up at her.  “Thank you, wife,” he breathed, his voice slightly wobbling.

Y/N kissed his forehead.  He wrapped his arms around her waist as he rested his head on her breasts, snuggling his face close.  She giggled at his antics, still running her fingers through his hair.  His breathing became heavier and heavier until he began snoring.  Y/N covered them both with a blanket on her bed, letting him sleep off the strain of the day.  She silently thanked whatever powers or Gods that be that the people had been so understanding and accepting of him.  She was sure there was still going to be an adjustment period for everyone, but that this would be the beginning of a beautiful life she had been promised by the Seers.

*Drawings from TikTok @zesketches *info about Gorgons found @seananmcguire.com 

[neevblanc]

this is a req for your cafe event! 🩷 15/Dark Era dazai x reader word: hm.....sick (like the kind of sick after you drink too much) bar lupin shall be the death of me🥹 If you need a name: April

a/n —hiii april! :D ty for sending this in! i've never tried my hand at writing dark era dazai so i hope i can do our little funky guy justice lmao :P

blanca’s cafe event!

this event is now CLOSED! feel free to leave a normal old ask, though!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Dazai Osamu x GN!reader

Tags— dark era dazai, he's a little mean but what can ya do, regular dazai suicidal antics (help him), killer hangover (sort of), bullying him into being cared for seems to be a theme amongst the ppl in his life (looking at you, kunikida)

CW/TW— drinking, underage drinking, mentions of vomiting, dehydration, suicidal themes

please keep yourself safe.

note — i ended up modeling what reader is to this dazai as something similar to what higuchi is to akutagawa. not exactly, of course, since all four of these characters are complex and very much different but the premise was...inspired, i think. it's interesting. dazai is interesting!

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Dead to Me by Kali Uchis"

00:34 ━━●─────── 03:19

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

"i don't know what you've been told. see i am not your enemy."

The walk up to the roof is familiar. The stairway is damp, and the stairs creak under your feet; the building is one of the older ones left in the city and, therefore, made of wood instead of the metal you were used to seeing.

You open the door to the roof, biting the inside of your cheek as you step out into the open and let it shut behind you. The soft night wind bites at your face in greeting as soon as you are entirely on the roof. Your eyes dart to the right, and you find what you’re looking for in the exact place it always is.

“Are you done now, Dazai-san?” You ask, approaching the man. He’s sat on the ledge of the building. Despite seeing him in this position more times than you could count, unease still seeps into your stomach and pools at the bottom. You stop just beside him, and without thinking much of it, you do the math to make sure you’d be able to catch him if anything happened.

You shuffle a foot closer. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks.

“Yes.” Dazai’s response is clipped, but he takes a deep and visible breath before speaking. You know immediately he’s had too much to drink.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, despite knowing that Oda-san and Ango-san wouldn’t have let Dazai up, and Dazai wouldn’t have been on the roof if Oda-san and Ango-san were with him.

“None of your business.” He huffs, almost clumsy, as he swings his gangly legs back toward the roof and stands slower than usual. You frowned but kept your hands to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a steadying hand. You turn first, keeping track of his footsteps that sound quietly just after yours. You hold the door to the stairwell open for him, and Dazai passes you without the slightest acknowledgment. 

He heads out of the building without another word, and instead of following his steps back to his…room, you quickly round the corner and head down the steps to bar Lupin. Two steps at a time, your breath comes out in cloudy puffs due to the cold. The bar door creaks ever so slightly as you open it, and the man at the bar gives you a strained smile when he sees you.

“Got him?” He asks, putting down the glass he’d been drying. You nod, sighing lightly.

“Could I have some of those bread rolls you sell? Put them on Dazai-san’s tab, please. I’ll be back to pay it off later in the week anyway.” You say, leaning on the bar. He smiles gently at you and packs the little rolls into a box for you to take. He hands them over and tilts his head toward the door.

“Now get going. It’s too damn cold and late for you kids to be out.” He shoos you away, and you hurry back into the winter air again.

Fortunately, Dazai has slumped against a building wall not too far away. A flickering streetlight shines above him, keeping his form visible to you despite the layers of black he insists on wearing.

You walk to him quickly, and as you near, he straightens and doesn’t bother to look your way. You do him a favor and pretend he hadn’t been slack-jawed a second ago, half coherent and entirely too relaxed in public.

You fumble the take-out box open and hand him one of the rolls, ignoring the hazy way his eyes roll over your entire form as he takes it. A Dazai this plastered doesn’t have much of the subtly everyone might expect from him.

“These are cold.” He huffed, demolishing half of the roll in one bite. You smile tightly at him.

“Unfortunately, they’re not kept fresh for 18 hours, Dazai-san. We’re lucky Lupin had any leftovers at all.” You sigh. Dazai busies himself with the rest of the roll in his hands, so you don’t get much of a response.

The walk to the shipping yard isn’t too eventful. Fellow drunks and the shady people that populate Yokohama’s streets at night become less and less as they tread deeper into Port Mafia territory. For all the fear that the PM no doubt instilled into Yokohama’s citizens, they weren’t the type to break promises. Shop owners paid their protection fee monthly, and they were dutifully kept from any damage caused by the (admittedly desperate and exaggeratedly large population caused by the Port Mafia) local criminals.

Despite his inebriated state, Dazai’s unsteady feet lead him toward the container he calls home- which you’re grateful for since you couldn’t ever remember which was his in the sea of containers the Mafia had come in and out of the shipping yard.

You watch him fumble with the latches, managing only to flip those over. Dazai had never been the strongest, so when he goes to pull on the handles and pop the container open, he stumbles backward and just barely manages to not fall flat on his ass.

“Um.” He slurs, blinking at his hands. They must have let go without him trying to. You bite back a laugh and pull the handles, only slightly staggering with the weight of the door once it pops open.

Dazai huffs softly and heads in, leaving you to close the door behind you by a cable he had fashioned to the door. You secure the door and turn to flick the lamp in the corner on, illuminating the space in a warm glow. The lamp was an addition you insisted on. Eventually, Dazai allowed you to drag in the thing (along with a semi-quiet-enough generator to keep it running). You had a feeling it was only ever turned on when you were in here.

Dazai had collapsed onto his mattress, worryingly quiet and face down. You put the container with the rolls down near the makeshift bed and gently roll him over, making sure he settled on his side to avoid choking on his own vomit in the night. His face is startlingly blank when you can see it again, and he eyes you with contempt.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” He says lightly, though you know better than to think he wasn’t bothered.

“Sorry, Dazai-san. You wouldn’t enjoy dying in a pool of your own vomit, I think.” You answer lowly, slowly reaching for a bottle of water that had clearly rolled away one night and hadn’t been picked up since.

He gives you that same withering look and brings a hand up to rest over his eyes. You imagine the headache he’s sporting must be killer- Dazai was not one to be nice to himself, especially not with something so destructive as drinking.

You gesture for him to take the bottle in your hands, shaking it lightly as if he were a toddler who needed the visual cue. He huffs and takes it.

“You should leave.” He mutters, haphazardly bringing the bottle’s opening to his mouth and drinking messily. You ignore the way some of the water overwhelms him and dribbles down the side of his mouth.

“I should, but it wouldn’t do to have you die by choking. Even asleep, I hear it’s a horrible way to die.” You hum, finally shifting into a comfortable sitting position next to the mattress.

A sober Dazai might’ve stared you down until you left, and a particularly pissy one would’ve shoved you out himself.

As he was, he grumbled and let the bottle fall back into your waiting hands and promptly went to sleep, sagging like a corpse into the bed. You place the bottle next to you and sigh as quietly as possible- Dazai could be one hell of a light sleeper.

His breathing deepens quickly, and it’s startlingly quiet despite his inebriation. Dazai was always like this, somehow- walking the line between alive and dead. He was your superior by multiple clearance levels, sure, but not much older than you and not all that physically impressive. His strength was in his demeanor, of course- in his sharp tongue and quick-witted mind.

He was still young, though, and despite being a bit younger than him you were always a little taken aback by how other members treated him when his face was still round and soft like a child’s. The only people who really treated him like a kid you could count on one hand, and one of them was his age.

You’d keep these thoughts to yourself, of course. You’d seen people get shot for much less let alone question their superiors power.

The lamp flickered in the corner. The yellow light made him look sickly. The floor of the crate was rigged and unforgiving, but you preferred to stay where you were. In case Dazai needed anything.

And if it meant you got to settle the tightness in your chest by watching his own move steadily throughout the night, then no one else would have to know.

[seaside-writings]

Hello, again all you wonderfully, wicked people!

As we know black cats are an essential part of the spooky season as well as an essential part of everyday life! So in honor of that, I made a prompt list dedicated to one of my favorite black cats Salem Saberhagen, who in my opinion had some of the most iconic dialogue in TV history!

I hope you all like this prompt list, and I hope it helps you create! And if you do use it, please credit/tag me so I can check out what you've made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 🖤🎃🕸🔮

P.s. I did change some of the dialogue so it would flow easier when it came to writing for different types of characters.

“You’re the only one who understands me,” “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I care,” - “What are you doing?” “Nothing!” “You’re in a chatroom again pretending to be a woman, aren’t you?” “I like the attention.” - “I have lighted the fuse. Now I just have to wait for the kapowie! Muahahaha!” - “I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you; I just wanted to rule you,” - “You’ll be able to look back on all of this and get revenge,” - “Show me the tuna!” - "I never cared for the name Mildred," - “And let’s give a big warm welcome to sadness,” - “Someone’s gonna end up crying. Probably me,” - “Finally, someone whose life is more pathetic than mine!” - “You don't have to order me a pizza, but make it half sausage, half clam,” - “I need a little fresh air and a latte,”

“As long as you drop everything and stay focused on me, I should be fine,” - “Dogs guard. Cats watch and judge,” - “When I’m happy, I eat! When I’m upset, I eat!” - “Hooray, the toast is stuck! Danger, here I come!” - “They left behind. Be strong. Don’t cry,” - “Still want to take over the world?" - "Cheetos should be served at room temperature, you know,” - “Curse my sarcastic nature!” - “If you misbehave for just one instant, I’ll cut you, man,” - “Dear lord, you picked up a guy at the bus station,” - “It's the 90s, no one eats mortals anymore,” - “I’m rich! Rich, I tell you!” It’s only a few hundred dollars,” “I’m well-off! Well-off, I tell you!” - “Let's destroy everything that's dear to him. Let's indoctrinate him into the cathedral of agony,” “I'm going to write him a very stern letter,” “You're a regular Mad Max, aren't you?” - “A tassel! Don’t you toy with me, you saucy minx!” - “Wow, you must feel like a huge loser,” - “Would you be terribly upset if I threw up in one of your shoes?” - “You laugh, you die,” - “I will not be ignored!” - “All I’ve done all day is eat, sleep, and stare off into space. What an awful existence,” “Hey! I don’t dump on your lifestyle," - “Could you either remove the bandages or kill me?” - “Sorry, thirty waffles is my limit,” - “You think a mirrored ceiling would be too much?” - “Why didn’t you stop them!?” “I was busy,” “Doing what!?” “Playing with my scrunchie,” - “We need a plan,” “How about we weep uncontrollably,” - “I urge you to accept me as your ruler!” - “I’ll be having a quiet weekend, curled up with Memoirs Of A Geisha,” - “Delivery. I want a pizza as fast as possible! And don’t forget the crazy bread!” - “And your face is a bit of a trainwreck too,” - “Tell Elton John he can’t start singing now,” - “I wasn’t always the stud muffin I am today,”

“You owe her an apology. Now! “I’m thinking of how to word it,” “Try 'I’m sorry,'” “Somehow, that just doesn’t feel right…” - “I’d rather be locked in the dishwasher again,” - “Does she know who you are?” “Why does everyone think that’s a necessary part of love,” - “I’m the ultimate bad example,” - “Don’t ask me, I was an English major,” - “Hey, leave the sarcasm to the professionals,” - “Get a real job. And some pants,” - “I’m a cat, I’m curious, so kill me,” - “Still want to take over the world?” “Yes! Wait, no! I meant no!” - “I’d be more nervous if I weren’t so good-looking,” - “Hey chicks, what’s the haps?” - “I’m trying to set the world record for grooving,” - “Sometimes I just like to hear myself talk,” - “You know me any excuse to wear taffeta,” - “Oh, right, I forgot. I’m an animal, I have no self-control,” - “Why am I finding it hard to summon sympathy?” - “Wow, I love a woman who can take charge!” - “I’ll be downstairs creating a distraction,” - “I’m trying to concentrate on expanding my intellectual horizons,” - “Wake up, woman! You’re not a princess, you’re a dragon!” - “Her new obsession is doing wonders for my wardrobe!” - “Please hurry! I’ve been in here for over an hour!” “Why didn’t you call us sooner?” “It wasn’t a problem until I ran out of peanut brittle!” - “So it's true. Taste does skip a generation,” - “I want to say something wise and wonderful right now, but I can't think of anything. Except I love you, and I hope the band knows some Ohio Player,” - “BOO!” “You look ridiculous,” “You were terrified, and you know it,” - “Halloween. Is it just another date on the calendar, or is a state of mind, or is a state of… being?”

[thealmightyemprex]

The Emprex Goofs on Piano Man by Billy Joel

SO I love Piano Man by Billy Joel ,its great classic song....But if you listen to anything too much you cant help but poke fun at it .This is done from a place of love

Before I begin heres the song for if its been a while and you havent heard it at all

LIstened to it ? Good,lets begin

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday The regular crowd shuffles in"

Which is odd cause it was Nine AM

"There's an old man sittin' next to me Makin' love to his tonic and gin"

I think you can get arrested for that ,also dont touch that glass

"He says, "Son can you play me a memory?"

BIlly:No I am a pianist !I can play songs.Thats like asking a baker to make you a pastry made out of dreams ands rainbows ...Idiot

I'm not really sure how it goes"

Billy:SO you want me to play a memory .....YOu dont remember

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Old Man:Course that younger man is currently buried in pieces around Nevada -

La, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

Ah great Billys having a stroke again

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight"

Billy:Ya know you dont have to be pushy

"Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright"

Way better then taking anti depressents

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine He gets me my drinks for free And he's quick with a joke, or to light up your smoke But there's some place that he'd rather be

Ah,Wisconsin

He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me" As a smile ran away from his face

John :Yeah can you get this knife out of my back

"Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star If I could get out of this place"

John:SAdly due to my pack with Satan ,my soul is tethered to this bar

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

Billy I think you need to go to a doctor

Now Paul is a real estate novelist Who never had time for a wife

Did find time for a husband though

And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the navy And probably will be for life

.....You just wanted to rhyme Davey and Navy

And the waitress is practicing politics

Annnnnnnd insert your own joke here

As the businessmen slowly get stoned

Well he was a blasphemer

Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness But it's better than drinkin' alone

No joke here thats just a good lyric

Sing us the song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight

BIllyQUIT BEING PUSHY

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright

Not great but alright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday And the manager gives me a smile

Manager :

'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see

Yeah the drinks are basically tap water and food is barely edible but the tunes are nice

To forget about life for a while"

Course its due to the fact the piano is cursed

And the piano, it sounds like a carnival

WEll duh look at the co owner

And the microphone smells like a beer

Yeah sorry Billy,someone spilt a beer on it thing doesnt even work

And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar\

Billy :Id prefer money but Bread is nice

And say man what are you doin' here?

....Playing a piano ? Thats kind of his job

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

BILLY FOR GODS SAKE GO TO A DOCTOR

Sing us the song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight

Billy:WEll I am out of practice on my SOndheim but TOoooonigghht,tonight,it all began tonight-

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright

You are profoundly adequite

Well that was a bit of nonesense I have wanted to do for years

@ariel-seagull-wings @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @princesssarisa @minimumheadroom @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @filmcityworld1

[periwinckles]

The Train Back to twelve - Chapter 18

(This is mainly a Thelly fic but I know some of you only want to read the Everlark bits. That is why I'm uploading the everlark chapters simultaneously to another work as well, to those of you that want to be saved from the Thelly drama. Enjoy.)

Week 10 - Katniss

When I wake up, the bed is empty beside me, and I sit up with a jolt. I'm always scared when I wake up and I don't see him right away, but the noise coming from the kitchen is enough reassurance.

He can't help himself from getting up early, and he beats me to it most of the time, but I'm still terrified every single time I wake up and he's not there. Of course I don't tell him this. He has enough burdens to carry and baking for the district is one of the few things that keeps him going.

When I reach the kitchen, I lean into one of the cabinets and silently observe him. He has his back turned to me, several loaves of bread already set aside on the counter, and several more inside the oven. He's still working on something, but it's not bread. I know his kneading movements by heart and that's not what he's doing right now.

The oven dings and when he opens it the familiar scent makes my mouth water.

"You made cheese buns?"

He's startled by my voice but quickly turns to a smile.

"Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

When I reach the counter I notice he has a tray set up, with a handful of berries I collected yesterday and some scrambled eggs sprinkled with rosemary. The plate is decorated with mustard flowers that he must have foraged close to Haymitch's backyard.

"The flowers are edible, I double checked your father's book. I know how particular you are with frivolous things." He tells me with a shy glance. Old Peeta would have smirked at this, maybe even given me a flirty wink. I need him to be back at his old self and sometimes I dare myself to believe he has. I told Dr Aurelius this the last time I talked to him and all he asked me was “Does it really matter if he never goes back to his old self? Are you going back to your old self?”

I guess not. But we still have this. Peeta making me cheese buns, like he used to.

"Is this for me? " I ask, but the answer is so obvious he doesn't bother to say it.

He finishes pouring the batter he was working with into a pan and placing it inside the oven.

"Is that a cake?" I ask curious as I try to catch a glimpse at the oven door.

"Yeah. Hum. Thom and Delly are coming for dinner tonight and I thought… Do you remember how last week he said he never tasted a birthday cake? I thought about making one for dessert today."

I smile at his thoughtfulness, and I am sure Delly will be delighted at his attempts to make Thom feel welcomed. This is just another thing that is so like old Peeta that it makes me hope again.

"So we're having birthday cake on a regular Friday?"

"That's the point of surviving isn't it? Enjoying life?" He asks me and we stay silent for a while. There are so many people who will never taste life again but I suppose he is right. That’s what surviving is all about isn’t it? Living?

"That cake is huge, I don't think the four of us can eat all of that." I tell him as he carefully places the cheese buns on the breakfast tray.

"Haymitch is coming too, he's been dying to have a chess match with Thom. And I thought they could take all the leftover cake back for the kids in camp. "

Peeta picks up the breakfast tray and then looks around unsure of himself.

"Well, you're out of bed now, so I guess the tray is useless…huh… do you want to…" He gestures to the kitchen table but an idea pops into my mind. He tried to do something special for me today and I don't want it to go to waste.

"Why don't we eat outside on the porch? It's nice today, and we'll get a bit of early morning sunlight."

The smile he gives me is so heartwarming that it's almost like I made him breakfast myself.

Peeta's house is the last one in Victor's village, and being on a high point means we get a full view of the forest. We watch it come to life as we savor each bite of our food.

"What day is it today?" I ask him. "I thought it was Thursday."

"It is." He tells me, popping a blueberry in his mouth.

That's strange, Delly and Thom usually come on Fridays. I ask him about it but he shrugs his shoulders in confusion as well.

"I don't know, I guess something must have come up and they can't make it tomorrow."

The wind picks up a bit, but other than that it's a beautiful spring day. Wildflowers are beginning to bloom everywhere. These were my mom’s favorite days as I would be able to gather most of her medicinal plants around this time of year.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day? From the looks of it you already baked everything you needed to."

He looks at me with a smile and nods.

"Yeah, I was up early and I thought I might as well get that out of the way. I have to help for a bit, at the construction site this afternoon. Thom wants my help to draw some changes on the capitol’s blueprints for the buildings. Other than that, I'm free. "

Peeta has been back for more than a month now. We have breakfast and dinner together and we spend the nights together in the same bed, sometimes clinging to each other like the other’s arms was the only thing keeping us tethered to the world. But we never spend time together during the day.

"Do you want to come to the woods with me?" I ask him before I back down.

"For real?"

"Yeah, I don't have to hunt today, yesterday's spoil was big enough. I might still catch something for Sae, but you won't be a bother. We can bring the memory book and work on it for a bit, in the forest."

Read the rest on AO3

The train back to twelve

or

What would I do without you? (selected Everlark scenes from The train back to twelve)

[thessalian]

Thess vs Good Friday

Okay, please remind me never to do that again.

See, I thought I'd make a ... kind of early afternoon of it. Like, go out to the big Tesco for the pain meds and something nice for dinner etc, and then stop in Peckham on the way home to the second-hand DVD / games / electronics store there. Obviously the games not so much a thing for me, as my Gilmore doesn't have a disc drive and I can't use a controller, but I've been making it a point to start rebuilding a DVD collection. Streaming's just gone weird.

Anyway, the big Tesco was paaaaaaaaaacked. Once I got my mallet meds from the pharmacy counter, I considered just turning around and going back home because the queues were ridiculous and navigating was a nightmare. But I thought, "Well, I'm here now, so I guess I oughta". So I picked up fixings for party pork chops (which is a treat, believe me - pork got way expensive since Brexit) and some chicken mini fillets (I've got a few recipes in my "Easy Gluten-Free" cookbook that calls for those specifically) and some gluten-free soy sauce which I keep forgetting to get and some gluten-free bread because I thought a nice Sunday brunch of French toast would be nice--

...Ooh. French toast with apple bread. I should try that sometime.

Anyway, point is, I picked up a few bits and pieces, and braved the queue. One guy offered to let me go ahead of him, but he had like three items so I figured it wouldn't be worth it. But gods, it hurt. Still, I got my bits and pieces so hopefully worth it.

I debated not stopping at the second-hand place, but then I thought, eh, fuck it, let's see what's available. I mean, sure, I should be getting my copies of both versions of Flatliners today, but there's more than that. The main section wasn't giving me much, but the "Everything for £1" shelves were a gold mine. Weird, eclectic, and very-much-me collection, frankly: The Thomas Crown Affair (the Piers Brosnan / Rene Russo version), Gone With The Wind (I know it's got a bullshit take on slavery and the Civil War but a) I didn't get anywhere by only looking at one side of anything and b) it's a good piece of cinema even if you do have to watch it through the lens of "this behaviour was kind of execrable", so eh), Minority Report (more or less the same thing, except replace "objectional views of slavery" with "the existence of Tom Cruise"), Domino (the Kiera Knightley one about her being a bounty hunter), and The Woman In Black (because Daniel Radcliffe deserves way better than to be remembered for nothing more than Harry fucking Potter - I got to see him on stage in Equus and damn the man is a good actor).

Now, however, I am waiting for the regular paracetamol to kick in a little more so I can do something other than sit in this chair and flinch every time I have to move. That kind of bank holiday outing used to be just a mild annoyance for me. I hate that now it's a crippling thing.

[cocoartistwrites]

I’m a male. I think I unintentionally gave my gf an eating disorder. I’m fully aware of how wrong I was and determined to make it right.

Background: after covid my gf Emma gained weight. She was previously skinny and now she’s overweight. Not so fat but she’s on the bigger side now. I have to mention that girls in my country are usually skinny because we walk a lot and eat healthy food.

In the middle of 2022 I told her she needs to lose weight because I can feel my love for her is lessening because of that. I was being honest and she was asking why I was being distant. After this, I apologized but I told her that was really my feelings. She started diet and going to the gym more often.

Now she lost a lot of weight and our relationship is back to normal. However I noticed she is getting skinnier than her previous body. Way way skinny but not to that level of boney. Another thing I noticed is she never eats anything in front of me or she eats very little. Whenever we go on dates, she just eats salad and sometimes she doesn’t finish it.

She also never bake bread/cookies again. I also noticed the lack of snacks in her flat. She usually have store bought cookies and cadburry chocolate, but now the cupboard is only few diet-like snacks like oatmeal snacks.

On summer we went on summer vacation and she rarely eat. For breakfast at the hotel she only eats few fruits. Sometimes she skipped lunch. Dinner she ate olives and salad. When I asked her about it she said she’s doing intermittent fasting and she doesn’t like food from this country which now that I think of it, was ridiculous because she previously like all kind of food.

Another thing I noticed is her monthly cycle. It used to be regular, now she rarely gets. I’m not creepy but we’ve been together for so long and she informed me her monthly period because we want to be safe. I keep a note of that. I asked her about it and she said she’s not pregnant and she realized she sometimes skipped a month or two. This is not normal right?

I’m worried about her and I’m feeling guilty so bad. I love her so much and I realize I was so mean at that time and to this day she never complained/say anything bad about it. She just accepted it and do it. I feel like such a shitty guy. I don’t know how to bring this up. I tried cooking for her but she ate very little now. Like three spoon and that’s it.

I don’t know why but something about this message doesn’t sound real? Sorry if that’s because you Google translated it or something but it’s just not ringing right for me. I don’t really know what to say if it is but let me treat it like it is for a moment.

You need to be open with her, apologise, and make her feel beautiful. But sometimes once the stable door is open you can’t get the horse back in and bolt the door. I would also encourage her to go to therapy. She could die from this. Do you know that?

I am not going to lie, you sound like a fucking terrible boyfriend. You should also get therapy.

[beelsbignaturals]

Dead is the New Alive

CW: Blood, general vampirism, injury mentions, Canon typical violence. My attempt at fluff. It's a pretty tame addition this time around.

While my health was initially improving, soon it takes a turn for the worse. If I move too suddenly the injuries I sustained open up again. I'm tired of the worried looks exchanged daily between the brothers. As an apology for snapping at everyone, I try to leave my room more often. I join them for movie nights and dinners but that's about it. Afterwards I go back into hiding, exhausted. It seems no one has a damn clue what they are doing since, late at night, while I'm staring at the walls as always, a green haired vampire I haven't seen since that day in the dungeons is knocking on my door. 

I knew beforehand that whoever was walking towards me wasn't someone I knew well, the way they walk isn't familiar in the least. Regardless, I drag myself off the floor and let him in. Ignoring the way my joints scream in protest.  I make an attempt at an apology, despite the fact I had no knowledge of his imprisonment. Otis brushes it off.

"You can make it up to me by sitting down and letting me work." 

He wastes no time, asking me a million questions about what exactly seems to be bothering me. It is eerily similar to childhood trips to the Doctor's office. But this time I won't receive that sweet, sweet banana flavored medicine. 

Turns out the fang problem had something to do with me not actually using my new teeth. The solution? Freeze blood in an ice cube tray to chew on. Good to know I can still eat Popsicles post-mortem. 

"You know, I'm glad your boyfriend came to me when he did. This is a nasty infection you got." I take it back. This is more like being at the dentist, Otis making small talk while wrist deep in my face hole. 

"What boyfriend?" It sounds more like wah oyfen. I'm surprised he can understand what I'm saying. Maybe he went to dental school? I'm sure being older than sliced bread gives plenty of opportunities to further your education.

"More than one? Don't worry I'm not judging. Most immortals give up on that monogamy business by the end of their first century. It was the redheaded one." 

"Beel's not my boyfriend."

"Hmm. You should tell him that. Now normally I'd say gargle saltwater. Still do that. But don't swallow any, trust me. Your body is going to be adjusting to your new diet and the first year is rough. It will reject any regular sustenance. Not fun. I know." 

Tell who what? Sure, the guy who's avoiding me like the plague is my significant other. That makes perfect sense. 

Anyways, thinking back on the last time I tried eating real food…. Yeah I'm not risking it. It felt a bit like my entire digestive system wanted to make sure I die and stay dead. 

"Bite things. Liquid diet. Cool. What about coffins?" I'm half joking.

"No. Trade secret but, coffins aren't all that comfortable." Said with all the confidence of a man who has actually slept in a coffin. Noted.

Otis comes by the house biweekly to check on my progress and deliver more blood. Where he gets it all I'll never know… as far as my uneducated palate can tell it's all the same person, unless all blood tastes the same. Must be someone who's into that freaky shit.

In the meantime, I'm integrating back into the House of Lamentation ecosystem. 

Satan lent me some books on vampirism. I spend alot of my alone time reading up on vampire biology. Someone has scribbled notes throughout the books, crossing out lines and replacing them with contradictory information. 

Apparently the first year or so is a shit show. Young vampires are called fledglings. Although young is a relative term here considering they list young as anyone under 100. I'll be in a stage of immortal adolescence for a while. Technically I am capable of dying again but it would take an incredibly talented magician or a higher being, making the Devildom less dangerous than it was for human-me, but still a risk. I make a note to ask Otis if I still have a soul. 

Speaking of, Otis starts to visit more frequently and for longer periods of time. He gives me pointers on the vampiric lifestyle and we chat about our lives. 

All my questions are met with cryptic answers. "How old are you?" "Very." "Where do you get the blood?" "A creature with a pulse." "Is there a cure?" He changes the subject quick when I ask that. Still, despite his exterior, Otis seems genuinely interested in my well being and life. The taking is unsettling but it's nice to have someone to talk to who knows what I'm dealing with. 

I'm crunching on frozen blood while recounting my very first day in the Devildom. I had spent the night in my room, reading the full list of school rules . So I knew exactly how far I could push them. By morning I had spikes along the collar of my uniform, I painted the buttons and shoes, plus some stress induced embroidery here and there. Eventually I added several other modifications. 

"You should've seen Lucifer's face when I recited the entire dress code! I swear he almost popped a blood vessel." 

Otis nearly chokes on the blood he is sipping. I still haven't gotten a straight answer on where he gets it all. 

According to the books, fresh blood is ideal for proper nutrition but I don't want to worry about that yet. I'll take good enough if it means I don't need to think about possibly killing someone. At least with the donated stuff, I can have some hope the person is still alive.

The brother's still have classes to attend,  so during the day I hole up in my room. After school there's always someone fighting for my attention.

Monday nights are spent in Asmo's spa sized bathroom. A ritual that's been in place ever since we got back from the…. Eventful sleepover at the castle. Getting chased by a giant snake is bad for the skin. It's all fluffy robes and slippers and lavender scented steam. He keeps me up to date on the latest gossip while we smear clay on our faces.

"This should help minimize the scarring," He explains, applying some strange cream to the scar tissue his brother left behind.  

"Thanks." I'm not feeling all that talkative but I know I can rely on Asmo to fill the silence. 

"Y'know, I'm glad the no reflection thing is a myth. Not that I wouldn't love doing your makeup everyday but not being able to see your cute self? I couldn't stand for it," He runs around grabbing various products to show me. A strong perfume to hide the fact I apparently smell less human than before. A concealer that manages to be lightweight but still full coverage enough to hide pactmarks, so it should have no issues hiding the scars. 

I thank him again, feeling awkward with all the attention after weeks of avoiding everything with a pulse. 

"Of course, Laurlaur!" I roll my eyes at the nickname. Once Mammon tried to call me that. I kicked him in the shin. Though that was nothing compared to Asmo's anger. Apparently, it's his nickname and no one else's. Despite the fact I find it annoying at the best of times, I know it comes from a place of genuine care. So I suffer through it. Don't tell Asmo it's grown on me, it'll go to his head. 

"Oh and you better be all healed up by Devildom fashion week. You promised to be my plus one! Don't think you can worm your way out of that!" I'd forgotten the agreement I made, back when I first came to hell. Asmo was excited to have someone else with an interest in fashion to rate red carpet gowns with. When he learned I've never been to a fashion show he immediately decided I needed to start with the best of the best.

" Wouldn't dream of it." A small smile causes the mask carefully applied to my face to crack, sending small flakes of clay scattered about. 

"There's that smile I missed so much! The vibes have been so melancholy lately and I for one am over it. Come on let's wash this off, I have a new serum I think you'll love." Does this man ever take a breath? Still, I allow myself to get dragged along. 

All it takes is a month or two of Otis playing Dr. Dracula and I'm somewhat functional.  At the very least, I have two fangs, and my injuries have actually healed. I still can't stand lights, and everything is so damn loud, but I've been told I will adjust with time.

Slowly but surely I learn to exist with minimal pain. Small adjustments are made around the house, when I leave my room the lights are dimmed, curtains are always closed lest the strange day-cycle of the Devildom fries me to a crisp. According to Otis, he hasn't been in Hell long enough to know how "daylight" affects vampires. So for now it's better safe than sorry. The idea of never feeling the warmth of the sun again is depressing, so naturally, I put that in a little box to deal with later. Right beside my garlic bread related woes. 

Sadly for me, the demons don't have a mute button so I just deal with the constant screeching. Could be worse. 

Since I can't leave the house, Diavolo and Lucifer work on a cover story. My absence has started major rumors. My favorite is that Mammon traded my soul for a pair of Gucci slides. Alas, instead of letting everyone think I ceased to exist it's instead announced that I "fell ill and needed to go to a human world physician". I guess the exchange program is being extended due to the fragility of human lives. Once I'm given the all clear I'll be expected to go back to school. Yay. 

The more pressing issue is the fact no one can figure out how some vampire managed to sneak in, get that close to the House of Lamentation without anyone noticing, bite me, and run away leaving no trace whatsoever.  So before I head back to class, it's decided Barbatos will use his powers to send all of us back into the past to get a good look at the sneaky bastard. How hard can it be?

[beloveddawn-blog]

New Friends

Zelda’s head snapped around as she heard the telltale hum of the teleportation pad lighting up. “Ooh, that’ll be Mipha! I hope she has some more information on Astor for us!”

Link nodded, moving to stand next to her. He was vibrating slightly, but that wasn’t unusual. Mipha was his very best friend, and he was always delighted to see her.

“Wonderful!” Crowed Sidon, coming up to flank her on the other side. Impa stepped close, but didn’t try to push past the two males waiting with bated breath for one of their Very Important Persons to arrive.

The swirling blue lights took form. The small, slender one in front was expected, and easily identified by her trident. The hulking form, almost three times her height, behind her though…

“What.” Impa stated, “Is that.” It should have been a question, but there was no inflection in her tone. No one answered, all too busy staring at the form of their mortal enemy, standing quietly behind Mipha and delicately holding the shoulder of her Champion’s sash a bit like a leash. The question was, who was leading who?

Mipha was the one to break it, when the silence became even heavier. “Uh, well, this is Ganon. I’m sure you all recognize him. Astor was down by Fort Hateno, as we guessed. He summoned his shades and summoned Harbringer Ganon and in the end, when I thought it was over, the shards of his evil summoned Calamity Ganon. We fought, and I was triumphant, and I guess I… Impressed him? He repented and has been following me around docilely ever since.”

The quiet fell again, but this time it was Link to shatter the moment. He took a couple of steps forward, bringing him even with Mipha. He stared up at Ganon, who stooped down to stare back. Link tilted his head in Mipha’s direction, Ganon answered with a shrug, and then Link broke into a smile and gestured Ganon forward, turning as he did to return to the campfire himself. Ganon glanced towards Mipha, obviously confused, but she shooed him after like a parent urging on a shy toddler. With similar hesitance, he obeyed.

“My dear sister, you never fail to amaze me,” Sidon whooped, swooping in to catch Mipha in a hug. “I am so pleased you have returned safely. I shall go help your guest settle in, but please do join us for food and fellowship as and when you may, as we are all very interested in hearing your tales of adventure.” With that he released his sister, letting her drop slightly to the ground, before hurrying over to join the other two at the campfire, just in time to receive his own bowl of Link’s signature carrot soup. Ganon obviously couldn’t handle regular cutlery, but Link had handed off the whole cookpot along with the ladle, and was patiently showing Ganon how to use them.

Zelda blinked at them, utterly baffled.

*

King Rhoam had been hearing some unsettling rumours. Rumours that their Great Enemy was now in their own camp. Rumours that he had been welcomed like a friend. Rumours that would sound totally preposterous… If not for his knowledge that his daughter had a kind and forgiving heart, and that she believed the best in everyone. Rumours that would sound like a lie, if he hadn’t shared bread himself with Master Kogha of the Yiga Clan just the previous morning, before he left on his own mission.

Still. Master Kogha was one thing. For all he was a sneaky, weasley excuse for a Hylian, Hylian he was. He had been bought, as people are, and betrayed, as people are, and had sought vengeance for his own, as people do. All of his motivations and actions were the same as the members of the court, though on a larger scale. It was one thing to take in a reformed person, who was still not entirely trustworthy but they knew hated Astor, and hated him personally, more than he ever did them, but another entirely to offer comradeship to a complete monster…

He blinked as he rounded the corner. It was what he had been told, but also so much worse. Ganon was sitting at the campfire with a group of their leaders. A group that included even his daughter, who had the sense to look slightly uneasy. She was off to the side, sitting at a folding table often used to plan strategy. Impa was placed directly between her and Ganon, her hand resting on her sword hilt. Urbosa and Daruk flanked Zelda, obviously there for her safety. It was a familiar sight, except for the lack of one particular body…

Who was sitting cross-legged on the ground in casual clothes, holding some cards. His sword was still slung across his back and his shield was in easy reach, but he was clearly not on guard in the slightest. Across from the young knight was the unmistakable form of their ancient enemy, dark magic swirling around him… And Mipha, perched on his knee and obviously helping him hold his cards. Rounding out their set was Terrako, his cards as usual face down before him while he played from memory, and Riju, leaning casually back against Patricia (who kept casually stretching sideways towards Link, arguably looking to be pet but in reality totally trying to check out his hand). Sidon scuttled around, enthusiastically fetching snacks and refilling drinks. Teba was nearby, carefully checking the fletching on his arrows.

It was that that truly brought the King up short. Teba was obviously missing his own young son desperately, and Riju had lost her only parent less than a year before. The bond they shared was strong, and true, and beautiful. It was not about replacement, but rather about respect and commiseration and help. Teba was fiercely protective of the young lady, often preventing her from taking on missions or going on side quests without adequate backup, and yet here he was, casually letting her play cards with the physical manifestation of hatred and malice!

Mipha was softly coaxing Ganon into something while the others waited. After a short moment of struggle, a heavy, echoing, hollow voice hissed out, “Fiiiiiiiishhhhh.” Link’s face scrunched up in annoyance, and he shot a glare at the little automaton sitting next to him. Terrako bristled with indignation, letting out a disbelieving whistle. Riju laughed.

“If you don’t want him to suspect you of hoarding fives, try not cheating,” she advised. “Ganon has given us no reason to suspect him, plus he’s got Mipha helping him and she is beyond reproach. I’m with Link. I think you lied about the fives.”

Terrako squeaked sadly, turning to Zelda for affirmation. She smiled at her small friend consolingly. “I am afraid I cannot help you here. I trust you with my life, my people, and my friends, but not when it comes to cards. You have a reputation for a reason.”

King Rhoam made his way over to Teba, who glanced up and gave him a nod in greeting. “What has happened?” He asked, going straight for the heart.

“Mipha went hunting Astor and came back with Ganon, who is apparently on our side now.”

“And… you are okay with this? He is sitting by Riju.”

“Link is the definition of ‘hit first, ask questions later’, and I trust him completely. He’s a reckless halfwit like most adolescents across any species, but his instincts are spot on and his dedication is unparalleled. If he’s not hitting things, then there is nothing to hit.” Teba went back to his arrows, and King Rhoam turned to Link.

For all he was a quiet and awkward young man, he knew how to read a situation. He knew the question being asked in the King’s posture, and he knew he would answer, crowd or not. “As Teba trusts me,” He began, giving a deep nod to his friend, “I trust Mipha. She would never bring him back if there was even the slightest chance he would turn on us.”

It was hard to tell, what with her natural red colouring, but he would swear Mipha blushed at that.

“He is still the physical manifestation of hatred.” King Rhoam insisted, not willing to let it go yet.

But Link wasn’t prepared to let it go either. As shy as he could be, he would always step up in defence of Mipha. Physically for all his friends, but for Mipha even verbally. “And she’s Mipha. Everyone likes Mipha! Revali likes Mipha!”

“Hey!” That sharp interjection brought all eyes up to where Revali, who Rhoam hadn’t noticed before, was sitting on the top of the tallest tent pole with his bow out. He was obviously even less trusting of Ganon than Impa was, and it soothed the King to see it.

Link rolled his eyes expressively. Everyone was aware of how badly their first meeting had gone, and how their working relationship was tense at best and mostly held together by their mutual admiration of both Zelda and Mipha. Teba helped, but nothing was likely to ever fix it.

“So what you’re saying,” Urbosa broke in, a faint smile playing about her lips, “Is that it’s easier to make friends with your reincarnated life-long enemy than it is to make friends with Revali?”

Link looked at her, looked up to where Revali was sitting, out of reach and glaring suspiciously, and then looked over to where Ganon’s forehead scrunched up as Mipha patiently explained again how to win the game, and nodded decisively.

“Yes.”

“Hey!”

[whats-she-gonna-post-next]

I missed Limited Life, man.

Grian complained in the beginning about how they had too much freedom to die with the mechanics, but I truly think that is the thing that made it so good in the end was the fact that we got to watch them mess around in way more chaotic ways then a normal life series because they had, essentially, 24 lives they could use (or taking in session times, we will call it 12 lives if they didn’t die just over and over and over again right at the beginning) while still having that tense worry of time/lives running out.

The shenanigans that happened due to that, such as the boogeyman having more incentive to murder (losing essentially 8 deaths in one go versus a single life made a sacrifice like Scott's in Last Life unthinkable) and gaining life back from killing incentives killing for its own sake. We would probably never have gotten something like Bread Bridge in a different season, and with regular mechanics I guarantee that Smynet (my beloved best part of the season, I will take no critiques) would 100% never have happened, I mean, how many kills did skynet get from people falling off it alone? It took out 2/3 of the Bad Boys for crying out loud!

Not to mention some of the smaller interactions that I just personally love, Martyn's sea related pun names for the Mean Gils, Skizz's Word of Affirmation that almost made several people cry, Joel dying and Grian immediately abandoning the Bad Boys ship in favour of the neighbors, that one moment in the first episode where Etho is trying to run away witha cow in a boat and Joel kills it with a "I can't believe you've replaced me with a cow, eefo!" Scott once more proving his loyalty by having Martyn bring him down to yellow because he wanted him to get the time, poor Skizz getting killed twice by the boogeyman withing minutes (and seconds) of the rolls and the only reason Martyn didn't kill him for the bit a 3rd time being him kind words even though it was really difficult for him, the whole episode where Grian was sick and gone.

I could literally continue and list off almost every moment from this series it's so good. Like, Double Life is one of my faves for the soulbonds and the general story archs, but Limited Life has the all-encompassing energy to it that makes it just so addictive. It is definitely the season I have watched through the most perspectives of - and I am working on watching them all in general.

It just... so fun.

[tsuminonichijou]

So I went through a rollercoaster of the emotions of being a non confrontational judgy person.

I was at a grocery store, and when I was about to check out, there was no one at any of the registers. And my first judgy thought was, it's kind of weird to have multiple cash registers and have all of them empty at 10 am. But an employee was like, over here, they'll be right back, so I figured that there was only one cashier on that shift (which, still weird, for a 10 am shift, but it is what it is) and it's unreasonable to expect someone to never have a toilet break just because there's no one else at the other registers, so fair enough. I set my items on the counter and waited.

Then this elderly man (70s) came in and set his beer right in front of my stuff. Didn't ask, or even acknowledge me. Just put it there. And if it had been someone younger, I would have said something, but I was like, he's old, and if he'd asked, I would have told him to go ahead, so y'know, he's old, and he might be rude, but also, again old. So I'll let him have it. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna judge (especially because he cut the line to buy beer, not bread or meat, or anything essential), but I'll let him have it.

Anyway, I was kinda pissed at this entitled old man already, and the cashier wasn't coming back, and I'd been standing there for about the duration of 2-3 songs, and I was like, that's a long toilet break for someone who knows that there's no one else checking people out. And while I know that cashiers certainly don't get paid enough to warrant them having to rush to check you out, the old man situation was making me prone to be a little more pissy. And while I can help my actions so I'm not going to tell them anything because it's not their fault that they are understaffed, at the same time I can't help my moods, so I was kinda grumpily standing there, mad at the world (but knowing the world has a reason to be that way --and just in passing, the cashier had a better reason than the old man)

So yeah, I was grumpily standing there, and the cashier finally appeared, and I realized they were pregnant, so my pissiness toward them immediately evaporated (again, not that I was planning on doing or saying anything about it) So they sat down, and I was kinda waiting for them to check the old man out first, since he was in front of me. But they immediately started with my items, and I was so shocked that I (shamefully) forgot to even greet them. I assume that they must have seen me get to the register first when they headed to the bathroom, and it also looked from their interaction like the old man was a regular who routinely cut lines without asking to buy his beer, so they were just used to checking out the actual person who got in line before him first (that they saw).

I felt a lot of vindication right then, even though I also felt a little bad about it because, again, it's an old man. But I didn't feel too bad because, first of all, the entitlement of just cutting a line without asking no matter how old you are, and second of all, I didn't even have that many items that would have made him think that it would take a while to check me out. I had like 4 different items, already laid out on the register, and the total number of items was less than 10, and the person behind me (who he also cut through) was literally holding one item, so it would have been a rapid check out.

(the cashier checked out the old man second, right after me, probably because they hadn't seen that there had been 2 people in line when the old man cut through it, so the person behind me wasn't vindicated, so like, a little bummer for them)

[thedivinefish]

TGIWednesday: They're just lemons!

TGIWednesday News

Seems some of my, dare I say material/sermons/life lessons, stories come from the grocery store and the LA Fitness center/gym and the other day was no exception.  I needed lemons for iced tea that I make every day!  In the produce section of our grocery store were 3 choices, a bag of regular lemons, organic ones (smaller bag of course) and 5 in a bag from New Zealand (Lord in heaven only knows what that cost to ship to the USA) not a single lemon, bag or tag was marked with a price.  I took all 3 to two chatting managers standing about 25 feet away.  It’s not our department they told me.  I was like ok, we’ll it’s your store so could you help me so I can buy your products?  They both gave me a blank stare and reluctantly used their little bar code units on each item and mumbled the price of each one.  I turned around and walked back to where the lemon journey game began and all things being equal I got the organic ones.  Just as I was ready to leave the manager of the whole store gave me a smiling hello as he sees me every day and I said, “None of your lemons are marked with prices, so you may want to address that one.”  He would he assured me.  What’s the moral of the story.  Persist until you succeed.  Try and try again.  Keep going until you get the information you need, the money or even the right lemons.  Never ever give up and make a little daily progress.  As a result of doing that, I see your life getting better better best!  RIP Jimmy Buffett ...singer-songwriter, poet, author, husband, father, grandfather, showman, mogul, billionaire Happy Birthday to all those with birthdays in September! 

**ON DECK** Look for our latest MONEY audio MP3 to drop this month right around the first day of Fall.  We're calling it “High Cotton” and it has over 80 clearings and a run time of 21 minutes. These clearings will support you in collapsing negative, stuck energy and uses the latest word tracks given to me by Spirit to help you rewire your mind to higher abundance frequencies that will allow your intuition to bring in more prosperous opportunities and options. We’ll even have the theme of this month’s Zoom event around High Cotton and improving your abundance for a magical Fall and a better holiday season!  So stay tuned! 

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~ I WILL PERSIST UNTIL I SUCCEED  ~ I believe, think, know and feel that if I will just release my past, stay fully present in the moment and lean into the future everything will improve. I am ready, willing and able to persist until I succeed, turn noes into yeses and stay in a place of undeterred determination, I will reach my goals.  I know, when, where, how and why to remember that life is not checkers but more like chess and I will make steady, calculated and timely moves until I succeed.  I am asking in all languages and throughout all timelines and so it is.  Know that if you’ll make a little daily progress that the rest of your life will be the best of your life! 

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Fish Food 

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Hello Jimmy … I really enjoyed my appointment with you on Aug 25th. I’ve been interested in your work for several years , while enjoying the MP3’s that I purchased. That day ,I had lost power due to a storm here in Michigan, and was so glad I had enough battery power for our call. Your kind and gentle approach helped me relax, and has made a profound change in my life. I feel more confident and at ease. Totally worth it and so beneficial.  I hope you and your family did ok during this latest hurricane. My brother in law in Sarasota got through it without losing power. I would hope that you did as well. The storm surge is always so scary for the coast line communities. I definitely joined in for prayers to lessen the storm.   I’ll look forward to hearing your marvelous voice and pure energy again soon.  All my best, Roger

Fish Food 

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack Own this e-book so that you can read inspiration every day!

SEPTEMBER 6TH "Today I will have the spirit of my favorite animal. I will keep open to infinite possibility to a great victory, abundance and favor that will unfold today in every aspect of my life. Here and now I will remember that my future is greater than my past and the rest of my life will improve."   

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You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!  SUBSCRIPTION AUTO-RENEWAL ($95/mo - save $5) Purchase a recurring subscription  Update your prayers monthly. You can cancel or pause anytime.

Use PayPal for subscription Click here  Use Stripe for subscription Click here.  Could you use a private session? Are you feeling extra-crispy?  If so, you can now  Book Appointments... View Availability First, Then Pay 15 mins  | 30 mins  | 60 mins  

30-Days of Prayer - $99

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

?Visit our ?NEW O?nline ?TRAININ?G? CENTER

We have finally completed the migration of the Mastery & Practitioner Certification Courses and are now opening up the BRAND NEW ONLINE TRAINING CENTER!  All are welcome to create a FREE account to access the NEW and IMPROVED MLF Basic Training Course and also know that the Anchors Away, Masterclass and both Mastery & Practitioner courses have been UPGRADED with new information & lessons!

   Visit now, Click Here!

The Fish Market

Below is list of over 35 titles in the MyBeliefWorks Clearings audio series, monthly Zoom clearing call replays and Guided Energy Processess. Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better and we are ALWAYS working on the next one. Don’t forget… you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

Freedom from Abuse Overcoming Addiction Receiving Abundance Body Scan: Head to Toe Healing Bountiful Harvest Igniting Creative Spark Discovering Your Destiny Daily GPS Reset Releasing Dark Energies/Fears Crossroads -Decision Making Diet & Exercise Support Education & Learning Support Empowering the Empath Enthusiasm for Life Financial Windfall Gold Coin: Money in All Forms Healing Family Relationships Healing Body Disorders Joy of Money

IRS Stress & Taxes Relieving Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition Easing IRS Stress & Taxes Lucky 777  Finding Love & Romance Mental Stress Positive Money Mindset Moving Forward from Past Chronic Pain Relief Pet Healing Support Improving Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Pro$perity Unlocked Traveling with Ease Treasure Chest Work & Career Success Weight Loss Support Restoring Youth & Vitality

We now offer digital Gift Certificates for gift-giving. Gift a free session, daily prayers or clearing audios/videos to someone special.  You simply select the denomination that matches the gift you'd like to give from the options on this page amounts from $19 - $225.

Buy Gift Certificates here

THZ Quantum Frequency Wand "Future medicine will be the medicine of frequencies." - Albert Einstein USE CODE: TSG10 (10% off) >> Best price, SHOP HERE  

Healing and Grounding Mats for all occasions  Yes even Lily my cat uses the pet one!   View Grounding Mats here Use code: MyLiquidFishfs for Free Shipping View Full Zoom Replay Collection  The 5 Anchors Process The Purple Rain Process The Magical Golden Key

**We are NOT involved in the sales or shipping process of the 3rd party items, please contact them directly. 

TGIFunny

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Jimmy Mack | Appointments ???Transformational Healing of Body, Mind? & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations!? ? View Availability First, Then Pay 15 mins  | 30 mins  | 60 mins Search FAQ Create Your FREE MEMBERS Account  Clearing Audio Downloads? and eBooks Get Certified in MLF Mastery or Practitioner Watch Free Videos on YouTube Radio Show Archives Healing and Grounding Mats ...enter code: MyLiquidFishfs at checkout for Free shipping! http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2023 All Rights Reserved