for your totally spies inspired or into the future saves hehe... the opened compowders are decor while the closed one acts like the into the future hologram and therefore is functional!! it kind of floats in the sim's hands tho and is a little bigger than a irl compact powder, but it's still cute :3

requested by pacco.s

info of each cc item is under the cut! pls lmk if there’s any problems & feel free to tag me if you use them in your gameplay and post to tumblr!

sfs | google drive

totally spies compowder (screen)

1 preset, 3 channels

§50

found in misc decor. sculptures

2589 verts, 2170 faces

totally spies compowder (functional)

1 preset, 1 channel

§4000

found in computers

1380 verts, 1356 faces

totally spies compowder (mirror)

1 preset, 3 channels

§50

found in misc decor, mirror, sculptures

2589 verts, 2170 faces

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 10

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: This chapter contains mugging, memory loss, traumatic brain injury. This fic as a whole contains sex, language, violence, mental illness.

Word Count: 3164

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Author’s Note: I’m back! Obviously, it took me sooo long to figure out how to write this next chapter, but I finally got it together. I really appreciate your patience in the meantime & hope you enjoy reading it. The plan is to post more regularly soon (Chapter 11 is almost done).

“Makeup is an art,” Chantelle and Tina had explained to you the night before. “Think of your face as a canvas.”

Despite all their well-intentioned beauty coaching, the cold, hard truth was you still had no idea what the hell you were doing - you couldn’t even keep the differences between moisturizer, foundation and concealer straight in your brain. And after twenty minutes of attempting to “paint” your face like the natural-born Rembrandt they were convinced you were, you’d stared back at your reflection in the mirror and decided you looked like a clown…and not in a sexy-Arthur-Fleck kinda way.  

Exasperated, you’d washed everything off, opting instead for a tiny bit of mascara, lip gloss and powder.

But then there was the issue of your hair. You’d burned your fingers on Tina’s flat iron before managing to get things somewhat under control. But as soon as you stepped out onto the street the rain began to fall, causing your already-unruly mane to frizz up completely by the time you reached the subway.

Chantelle’s handpicked outfit, however, remained the only unblemished element of tonight's ensemble: her tight-fitting angora sweater did things for your non-existent cleavage you’d never imagined possible. You’d be sure to thank her profusely later…even though she thought you were going out with someone else tonight.

You’d never cared how you looked in front of a guy before…but Arthur Fleck wasn’t just a guy. To say he’d gotten under your skin was, perhaps, the understatement of your life: you were becoming crazy about the man.

You didn't know how you were going to survive this date. You could barely hold it together in Arthur’s presence without wanting to reach out and smother him with affection, and the kiss between you earlier today had only solidified your deepest desires. You wanted Arthur in so many ways…ways you didn’t even understand yet. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever rode the Giant Dipper at Amusement Mile: the sensation of your stomach flying up into your throat as you went over that first terrifying drop…a disconcerting mix of fear and exhilaration. Was this what being in love felt like?

***

The bouncer at Pogo’s frowned as you handed him your ID.

“Are you…um…are you alright, miss?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

You were thrown off by the question. “Of course. Why?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…have you looked in a mirror recently?”

You shook your head. The jerk was actually making fun of how bad your hair and makeup had turned out. People in this city really didn’t know how to act.

“Wow, you’re hilarious,” you rolled your eyes at him, snatching back your ID. “Can I please go inside now? My friend’s about to go on.”

You pushed past the rude bouncer and entered the club, scanning the room feverishly for an empty seat. Spotting one parallel to the center of the stage, your eyes lit up and you rushed over to claim it. As you sat down, a strange chill ran up your spine as you slowly began to realize: everyone was staring at you. Faces of concern and mockery swam around you, and you weren’t sure why.

Oh shit, you thought. Do I have something on my face?

Unfortunately, you hadn’t brought a compact mirror (Tina and Chantelle had given you a five minute lecture on the importance of always carrying on in your purse), so you couldn’t check. And you couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom because then you’d lose your seat. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, then glanced at your watch and saw the glass was cracked.

Weird. You hadn’t remembered smashing it against anything on the way over.

Your concerns about your appearance, however, were quickly dissolved as the current act wrapped and the emcee took the mic.

“This next comic describes himself as a lifelong Gotham resident who from a young age was told that ‘his purpose in life was to bring laughter and joy into this cold, dark world.’ Umm. Okay? Please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!”

You applauded along with the rest of the half-faded crowd as relief washed over you. Thank God you hadn’t missed him. As Arthur took the stage, your heart began to throb again. There were simply simply no words to describe how incredible he looked tonight. His red vest. The crisp, white button-down shirt underneath it. The matching slacks.

And his hair. His hair.

You were certain his hair was going to be the death of you. How was it possible that you and that gorgeous hair inhabited the same planet without the entire world imploding?

Arthur squinted out at the crowd before speaking. You knew he was searching for you, needing to see you in the audience, needing to know you were there for him. And you were. When the two of you locked eyes, he smiled. You smiled back at him and everything else fell away. It was you and Arthur again. And nothing else in this cold, dark world mattered.

You didn’t care that Arthur had a laughing episode at the beginning of his act. You didn’t care that basically all his jokes fell flat, either. You didn’t care about any of that. All you cared about was how proud you were of him. So proud, you felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

When he finished his set, you leapt to your feet, clapping and screaming. Arthur blushed from the stage, embarrassed…and pleased. Everyone was staring at you, then back at Arthur, then back at you in dazed confusion. Two weirdo peas in a pod…and proud.

“We’re gonna take a short break,” the emcee announced.

A moment later, you and Arthur found each other at the back of the club.

“You were amazing, Arthur!” you exclaimed as you threw your arms around him.

“I'm so glad you came tonight…” he hummed into your ear. Of course, your depraved mind twisted the meaning of those two words in your head, and you found yourself having to stifle a blushing smile. You felt your body quaver with excitement at being next to him once again.

“Wait a minute…” Arthur pulled back to look at you, shock and concern flooding his face.

“Y/N, what…what happened to you?”

You blinked. “What? Nothing happened to me.”

“You’re…you’re hurt.” Arthur looked you up and down, then lifted your hands to eye-level. Bruises in the shape of what looked like fingers and fingertips lined the insides of your wrists. You frowned at the sight, utterly confused.

“Y/N, who…who did this to you?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “I mean…I have a slight headache, but, y’know,  it’s probably just the rain.”  

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me what happened. Can you remember?”

It took a minute for your brain to register Arthur’s question, which you realized was a little strange.

“Well,” you inhaled, trying hard to formulate your thoughts. “I got on the subway…I know that. And I took it all the way to…well, whatever this stop was near here, you know? And then I got off the train and went up the stairs…and then…” you looked up into Arthur’s beautiful eyes. “And then I was here. Watching you perform for the very first time. And I’m so proud of you, Arthur!” you squealed as if you’d seen him for the first time tonight all over again.

“You don’t remember anything else? You must have hit your head.”

“I'm fine!”

“Y/N,” Arthur’s worried eyes blinked at you. “I don’t think you are. I think I need to take you to the hospital.”

“But it’s our big date!” you wailed. “I got all dressed up and everything!”

At that moment, a few Wall Street bro types brushed past and snickered at Arthur.

“Nice set, freak. In case you didn’t get the memo: you’re supposed to tell the jokes and the audience is supposed to laugh…not the other way around.”

"He has a laughing condition, you assholes!" you snarled at them without hesitation.

To everyone’s surprise, the bros paused, thrown off by the fact you’d called them out.

“Sorry…” Arthur interjected, glancing at the dudes apologetically. “She’s…she’s not feeling well.”

Arthur shot you a desperate please-shut-your-mouth-before-you-get-us-both-killed look, but you could see there was a tiny, triumphant smile curling up his lips underneath it. Still, the words were flying out of your mouth and there wasn’t much you could do to stop them.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well,” you continued loudly, glowering at them. “Maybe if assholes would shut their fat faces and stop acting ignorant, I’d feel better.”

“Okay, you’re coming with me now!” Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and scooted you towards the door. You looked over your shoulder to see them staring after you, dumbfounded. The sight of it made you laugh.

“Y/N,” Arthur pulled you into him as soon as you were outside. “I’m taking you to Gotham Hospital. We’ve gotta get you checked out.”

“No, Arthur!” you protested. You didn’t exactly know why you were so opposed to the idea, but your first instinct was to protest.

“Y/N, please. Please? Just do it for me. Just so I know you’re okay.”

“I’m worried about you,” he emphasized.

“I’m fine!”

“Okay.”

You’d switched it up so quickly, Arthur blinked in disbelief. He cleared his throat, nodding.

“Uh…okay. Good. Let’s go.”

**

“This is not where I expected to end up tonight,” you lamented. Arthur sat next to you, a clipboard given to him by the nurse at the front desk in his lap. He was trying to fill out your paperwork for you.

“Um. Your last name is…L/N right?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him. “How’d you know?”

Arthur blushed. “I…might have looked at your timecard. I was…curious about you. This was before…you know…we became...closer.”

“That’s so sweet! I looked at your timecard, too!”

Arthur stifled a laugh. “What’s your date of birth?”

He patiently wrote in all the answers and brought the completed forms back up to the desk.

“I’m surprised there aren’t more people here,” you observed, looking around at the handful of other patients. “It is a Friday night, after all.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Arthur reasoned. “My guess is things get crazier out there in a couple hours or so.”

“I feel like things are flying out of my mouth tonight without any filter,” you blurted. “And I’m not even that angry.”

“I feel like they are, too,” Arthur agreed. “But, that’s okay. I’m glad you agreed to come here. I’m…I’m still worried about you.”  

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Arthur looked a little startled, but he nodded.

“How do you get your hair to look so good all the time?”

Arthur’s eyebrows arched and he laughed.

“I'm serious!”

“No…I'm sorry,” he demurred, looking down at the tile floor. “It's just that nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“Nobody ever said your hair looks incredible?” you asked. “Like it's the most gorgeous hair in the world? Nobody ever approached you to do shampoo commercials?”

“Maybe that's my true calling,” he joked.

“What shampoo do you use?”

"That's a personal question," Arthur teased as the door to the back of the ER swung open.

“L/N? F/N L/N?” the nurse called out.

You leapt to your feet. “Oh! That’s me.”

“Do you want me to wait here?” Arthur asked.

“Are you kidding?” You extended your hand and pulled him up. “Of course I want you to come. You’re my emotional support clown.”

**

After weighing you, taking your blood pressure, asking if you had any allergies to any medications and all the other boring details that entailed a medical visit, the nurse set you up in an examination room and read through your paperwork, pursing her lips as she centered in on the handwritten scrawl (Arthur’s handwriting of course) that explained why you’d come to the ER in the first place.

“It says here you…think you hit your head?”

“He thinks I hit my head,” you clarified, jerking said head towards Arthur. “I’m still not sure. There’s a big gap in my memory from tonight and I don’t know why.”

“There are bruises on her arms,” Arthur added. “She came to meet me and she looked…disheveled. Like someone had…”

He paused. The nurse looked you up and down.

“You don’t remember what happened to cause the bruises?”

You shrugged. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”

“You’re not…that clumsy,” Arthur murmured under his breath. “I mean,” he looked up at the nurse. “She’s a dancer. She’s…one of the most graceful people I’ve ever seen.”

“Arthur, that is so sweet!” you exclaimed.

The nurse shot you both a skeptical look, then smiled. “Your husband obviously cares for you a great deal.”

“Oh,” Arthur blushed. “I’m…not her-”

“Yes, he’s a wonderful husband!” you interjected, flashing him a slightly maniacal smile. “So protective of me. I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“It sounds like you might have taken a fall,” the nurse continued, jotting down a few notes on your chart. “But the bruises on your wrists do look like they were caused by someone else’s hands.”

“My watch is broken, too,” you blurted.

“I’m wondering if maybe you were mugged. It happens to women in Gotham all the time, unfortunately.”

“But I still have all my money,” you pointed out, opening up your purse to show off your untouched wallet.

“Maybe you fought them off,” Arthur suggested. It wasn’t a completely outlandish notion. You were known to bring out the feistiness if the wrong people pushed your buttons.

“In any case, we’ll run some tests to check for concussion and other injuries.”

The nurse opened a drawer and handed you a light blue paper robe. “You can put this on. I’ll inform the doctor and he’ll check you over.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

“Of course. He should be by in just a minute.”

“What a nice lady,” you said to Arthur after she left you alone. “Don’t always meet people like that around here.”

“Very nice,” Arthur agreed. He cleared his throat. “Um…do you want me to leave, or…turn around while you get changed?”

You blinked, the reality of everything that had happened tonight finally hitting you.

“I just can’t believe this is how tonight turned out.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked softly.

“I had a whole outfit planned, Arthur! And my hair and makeup. I wanted to impress you and look beautiful for you tonight.”

“Y/N…” Arthur stood up to face you. “You are beautiful. No matter what. All I care about is that you’re okay.”

You sighed, moved by his sweet words, but you still felt utterly crestfallen and defeated. “I ruined our first date. And your big stand-up debut. I wanted tonight to be perfect so bad…”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Arthur interrupted. “I…” he paused. “Of course I wish none of this had happened to you. This city is…awful. In so many ways.” He paused, taking your hand into his. “But…I just love being with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but suddenly the door flew open and a man in a white coat suddenly stood before you both.

“I hear somebody got banged up tonight.”

“My guess is you got mugged. Maybe the muggers chickened out before they could actually…you know…mug you. It does look like you’ve got a concussion.”

**

Dr. White’s bedside manner was on the complete other end of the spectrum of your nice nurse’s from a few minutes before, but you’d come to expect that from men with MDs. After performing the perfunctory tests of shining a light in your eyes, examining your body for additional trauma or bruising (none was found) and asking you a few routine questions, he announced his evaluation:

“What can you do for that?”Arthur asked, concerned.

The doctor snorted at what he obviously deemed a dumb question. “Not much. Just wait it out. Don’t go to sleep for a while.”

“What happens if I fall asleep?” you asked.

“You could die.”

“Oh.”

“Your brain’ll heal itself,” the doctor continued. “Might take a little time. Just try to take it easy and don’t be in places where this could happen to you again.”

“You mean the entire city?” you asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him. You knew what he meant, but the slight insinuation that getting mugged was somehow your fault didn’t sit great with you.

“What can I say?” Dr. White shook his head and shrugged. “Welcome to Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” you informed him dryly. “Gotham’s a jungle.”

“Then welcome to the jungle.”

**

“Are you hungry?” Arthur asked in the lobby of the hospital. It was past midnight. “There’s a diner down the street people seem to like.” He paused. “That is…if it’s not too late for you.”

The way you saw it, you’d stay up all night with Arthur if he’d have you.

“Let’s go to the diner. I could really go for a cheeseburger."

Arthur laughed. “Okay.”

The rain had stopped and the air outside felt crisp and freshly-washed. For a brief moment, it made you forget that the garbage strike in Gotham had just entered its seventh week.

You and Arthur moved through the crowded sidewalk together, stumbling through the endless obstacles of people and garbage. A startling headline caught your eye as you walked past a newsstand, and you stopped in your tracks to read it:  

KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE. LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS, PAGE TWO.

Beneath was a drawing of a vampiric clown.

“Can you believe that?” you asked.

Arthur paused alongside you, his eyes wide as he soaked in the headline.

“I watched this on the news last night."

Arthur nodded, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “They worked at Wayne Enterprises. All three of them.”

You rolled your eyes. “That figures.”

Arthur cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

You continued, lowering your voice. “Between you and me, I actually knew one of them. Back when I was still at college. He was a complete asshole, and that’s putting it nicely.” You sighed. “And if I had to guess, those ‘friends’ of his were cut from the exact same cloth. But it looks like he finally picked the wrong person to fuck with. And I can’t say I’m shedding any tears.”

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in your words.

“I’m sorry,” you stopped yourself. “You must think I’m crazy for talking like this.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Three less pricks in Gotham City,” you quipped. “Only a million more to go!”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. You took it as a good sign: despite the traumatic brain injury and the chaotic night you’d shared, his smile still made you go weak at the knees.

🤍🩷 Thanks for reading. Visit my Masterlist for all my Fleck writing, including future chapters of Heartthrob.

molly gunn!

sunshine, glass half full sweetheart molly gunn is who i want to be when i grow up! i just know that sweet girl has all type of eclectic fragrances for what's she's feeling like that day but for sure most are sweet, floral and bright! i love her sm - miss u brittany! 💜

☀️ Demeter Fragrance Apple Pie (if you look really close at her vanity you can see a bottle of Demeter perfume in the back!) 🍏🌸🥧

☀️Jo Malone London Peony & Blush Suede

☀️ Hermès Un Jardin Sur Le Toit

☀️ Gale Hayman Delicious Cotton Candy

☀️ Britney Spears Rainbow Fantasy

☀️ Byredo Sundazed

☀️ Donna Karan DKNY Be Delicious

☀️ Something Sweet - smells like rainbow sherbet!

☀️ Joop! All About Eve

☀️ Lush Snow Fairy

☀️ O Boticário Egeo Dolce

☀️ Lanvin Modern Princess

☀️ Carolina Herrera 212 Sexy

☀️ Nina Ricci Nina

☀️ Demeter Fragrance Sour AppleLollipop

☀️ Ralph Lauren Ralph Love

☀️ Mugler Angel Eau de Toilette (2019)

☀️ Givenchy Absolutely Givenchy

bonus! i did some research (re-watched uptowngirls lol!) and saw her vanity and found her little products so cute so i will list them here as well in case you really want to delve into the molly vibe!

💜 Kérastase Volumintense hair conditioner

💜 giant jar of Crème de la Mer

💜 a MAC compact (could be powder or blush!)

💜 MAC lipstick - (a close match! modesty C)

💜 BeneFit Flamingo Fancy shimmering body highlighter (sadly discontinued but here are some close matches! refy gloss for the face that suit all complexions! and 1. 2.)

💜 a MAC nail polish (I found some colors close to the one on her dresser! 1. 2. 3. )

Art Deco objects from the Prince and Princess Sadruddin Aga Khan Collection. 

  Vanity cases, powder compacts and cigarette boxes are the backdrop for refined decorative effects, executed on the miniature surfaces. To look at, these feminine accessories are veritable masterpieces of creativity, fantasy and technique. Made from gold or platinum, they are enriched with precious stones and gemstones, and covered in mother-of-pearl, enamel or lacquer. (x)

1)  1928 Chrysanthemum Vanity Case by Lacloche Frères, Manufactured by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris. Japanese Influence. 

2)  1925 Floral Sash Vanity Case by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris. Japanese Influence.

3)  1928 Vanity Case by Van Cleef & Arpels, Manufactured by Alfred Langlois, Paris. Persian Influence.

4)  1930 Noble Hunt Vanity Case by Rose Vanity Case by Lacloche Frères,  Manufactured by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris, 1925 ,  Paris. Persian Influence.

5)  1928 Scale Pattern Box by Cartier, Paris. European Influence. 

6)  1927 Feuilles Cigarette Case by Van Cleef & Arpels, Manufactured by Alfred Langlois, Paris. European Influence.

7)   1927 Aubergine Motif, Cigarette Case by Van Cleef & Arpels, Manufactured by Alfred Langlois, Paris. European Influence.

8)  1926 Amber and Snakeskin Vanity Case by Van Cleef & Arpels, Manufactured by Strauss Allard & Meyer, Paris. European Influence.

9)  1925 Rose Vanity Case by Lacloche Frères, Manufactured by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris. European Influence.

10)  1928 Box by Van Cleef & Arpels, Manufactured by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris. European Influence.

Alice in College pt 4

An IkeRev Central characters AU! Written for my IkeRev 1K Celebration, a boarding school AU was the poll winner. Approx. 3800 words. 4/6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“I am an idiot. I always give myself very good advice but do I take it? Nooooo . . .” Alice stood in the empty dining hall, wondering again why she’d decided to come. The reason was simple. Curiosity. But on balance, it wasn’t exactly a great reason, or even a good one. 

The door swung open, and Alice startled. “Da- oh.” It wasn’t Dalim standing there, but some stranger. A student she had not met. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair and wide, grey eyes like a stormclouds. Oddly enough, he had a similarity to the kid Blanc and Loki hung out with, right down to wearing a matching top hat. 

“You.” The guy crossed his arms. “You do realize dinner was over an hour ago?”

“Umm. Yes?” She frowned. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alice.”

“And I don’t have time to introduce myself to an idiot.” He looked around. “So. Why are you here after hours? It’s against the rules.”

Alice sighed. “I’m waiting on a friend. But if you’re going to tattle on me, I can just leave now.” 

He held up a hand. “I didn’t say I was going to tell on you. Just be careful. There are worse things than detention with Mousse.” 

“What, like Dean will turn me into a frog for a year?” She grinned. 

“Dean won’t, no. But he isn’t the one in charge.” He paused, his gaze narrowing. “People have gone missing here. Or died. People like you.”

Alice felt a flutter of fear in her belly, but didn’t want to let him know he’d scored a point. “Yeah, well, if it’s so scary, what are you doing here after hours? You could be in danger too.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Me? No. I’ll be fine. I’ve got defenses. But you? You should stay where it’s safe. Where the lights are on and the rest of the students hang out.”

“Look, I’m not going to let you scare me. I’m not defenseless either. I know how to protect myself.” Alice tried not to think back on London and the times she ducked into a shop or ran home to get there before dark. She’d never been very brave, but she wanted to be. 

“Your head really is full of hot air, like a balloon.” He took a long breath, clearly not buying her bravado. Finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a powder compact or small mirror. “If you aren’t going to be sensible, then take this.” He handed it to her. “If someone - or something - bothers you, just point it at them and twist.”

Alice looked down at the thing uncertainly. “What does it do? I don’t want to hurt anyone . . .”

“It puts them to sleep. What did you think?” He snorted. “You really are such a dummy.” 

“And you’re mean and rude, so I think between the two of us, I’ve got it better.” Alice stuck her tongue out at him.

“Pfft, and people think I’m a kid?” He started laughing.

Alice couldn’t believe anyone would confuse him for a child, even if he slung insults like one. “Anyway, thanks for the - the thingamajig.” She pocketed it. 

“I haven’t named it yet, but I was thinking about calling it a sleep stick. Catchy, right? It’s a prototype, so be careful with it. And with yourself.” He added the last bit in a quiet voice, his expression going serious. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alice. And don’t forget. You owe me one now.” 

“Hey! I don’t owe you anything! If it’s like that, take your - hey!” Alice called after him, but the guy was gone. And he hadn’t even told her his name. “What a weirdo.”

“The school is full of them,” said a voice just behind her. 

Alice leapt and spun, her heart hammering in her chest. She held the sleep stick out like a tiny baton. 

Dalim grinned. “Whatcha going to do with that, princess? I’m not in the mood for a nap.” His smile hinted at all kinds of things he was in the mood for. 

Alice lowered her odd little weapon and tucked it into a pocket. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people. And you should stop calling me princess. You know my name.”

“Yeah, but you’re too beautiful for such a simple name. Calling you princess is the least I can do to respect your charms.” He said all this with a straight face, and every word of it put another degree of heat into Alice’s inflamed cheeks. 

“You can stop flirting with me too. That’s probably the same line you use on every new girl.”

Dalim chuckled. “Only the gorgeous ones.” But he did look somewhat chastened and his smile relaxed into something more natural. “Thanks for meeting me here tonight. I half expected that you wouldn’t show.”

“I shouldn’t have.” Alice frowned at him, but her heart wasn’t in it. “So . . . what are we doing? Nothing against the rules?”

He shrugged. “Not explicitly?” She didn’t say anything to that, so he went on. “I thought we could hang out. And . . . I have some contraband from town.” Dalim’s grin widened. “Amon and I were saving it for a special occasion, but spending time with you is pretty special.”

He was at it again with the cheesy pick-up lines, she thought, but it was kind of endearing. “Alright. But if I get in trouble again, I’m never forgiving you.”

“Understood.” 

Dalim led her to the boys’ wing of the school. This was where all the guys bunked in single and double dormitories. Most of the room doors were wide open, with guys shouting to each other across the hall, tossing balls back and forth or shooting each other with paper wads. A couple of people she’d met in class waved at her as they passed.

They stopped at one of the closed doors and Dalim knocked. A moment later, the door opened a crack, and Amon peered out. “There you are.” That was all he said before opening the door just wide enough to let the two of them in.

Amon wasn’t in his hoodie or scarf, just a loose black t-shirt and thin black pajama pants. He gave Alice a thin-lipped smile. “I didn’t think Dalim could talk you into coming.”

“I’m very persuasive,” Dalim laughed. He shut the door behind them as Alice stepped inside and looked around. 

She’d expected the room to be about the same size as her own and the ones she’d seen in passing, but it was quite a bit larger. There was room enough for a small, worn leather couch, a bookshelf, the two beds, and a table. 

“Corner space,” Dalim said, before she could ask. “Amon’s family pulled some strings for us.” 

“Nice.” She sat down on the couch and was surprised when Amon joined her. 

He studied her face in silence, as if waiting for her to do something interesting. 

Dalim grabbed some glasses and a bottle from a box under his bed. The bottle was smoked glass, and some liquid moved beneath the dark exterior. It was a little bigger than a wine bottle, and similarly corked. “The cups don’t match. Sorry about that, pri- Alice.” 

“I’m not fancy.” She averted her gaze from Amon, who was still watching her. “So what is it? What’s in the bottle?”

“Wine bottled from fruit gathered in the magic forest. Grown near naturally occurring magic crystals. They say it has all kinds of extra qualities.” Dalim raised an eyebrow. 

Alice peered cautiously at the bottle. Things in Cradle had a habit of being more dangerous than they appeared. “What kinds of things?”

“We’ll have to find out,” Amon answered for Dalim. “It’s our first time trying it too.”

“What he said,” Dalim agreed. He pulled the cork and began to pour. The wine, if that’s what it was, glimmered in the lamplight. It was gold in color, opaque and a little cloudy. The scent was sweet and reminded Alice of roses and honey, an aroma that grew stronger when Dalim handed her a cup.

“To new friendships,” Dalim held up his cup.

“Friendships,” echoed Amon.

Alice clinked her cup against theirs and took a sip. Whatever was in the glass, it wasn’t wine. That was her first thought. Her second was that it was amazing, and her third thought was that she wanted more. The drink tasted like summer felt. Warm and lazy, humming with life and light. It suffused her with a sense of wellbeing and nostalgia. 

“Kinda makes me feel like a kid again,” Amon said. He smiled at her again, and this time it didn’t look forced. “Just the good parts.”

Dalim nodded. “Yeah.” He gave Alice a questioning look. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s really odd, but good.” She took another careful sip, wanting to hold onto this strange feeling for as long as she could. 

“What does it make you think about?” Amon’s eyes were on her, the strange topaz color shifting just like the cloudy drink in her cup, sparkling in the light. 

He was kind of cute, she thought, when he wasn’t scowling. His long, pale hair curled behind his ears, silky and fine. “Ummm. It reminds me of summer? I guess? Warmth and that feeling of just . . . not needing to be anywhere or do anything.”

“I think that’s a good description. It’s warm and sweet. Like a gentle kiss.” Dalim settled on her other side, sandwiching Alice between him and Amon. 

She laughed. “There you go again, trying to flirt.”

“I sense it isn’t working.” He sighed.

“Just lay off, Dalim. Let her relax.” Amon leaned back, giving her a little more space on his side. 

Alice was silently grateful for his comment as Dalim also leaned back. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“Other than flirting with lovely ladies like yourself?” Dalim chuckled. “There are plays, dances, festivals . . . I like to read. And Amon has his experiments.” He shrugged. “If you mean at school, there’s not much. A few clubs, sports.”

“What about you, Alice? What do you do when you’re at leisure?” Amon asked without looking at her. His eyes were unfocused and staring up into the rafters of the high ceiling. 

“Well . . . at home I would bake. Or write out recipes I had an idea for. I worked at a pâtissière, so I was always trying to come up with new ideas for sweets we could make.” She sighed. It seemed like ages ago, even if it was only a month. “I miss it sometimes? But I like Cradle. I chose to stay afterall.”

“Hm. Didn’t have anything to go back to?” Amon was paying attention now, his eyes as sharp and cold as gemstones.

“I - well, no. Not really.” She took a breath, wondering how much to share and whether she ought to say anything at all. “I had my job. My boss was very nice. And I had a roommate. But no one I needed to go back to.”

Dalim set a hand on her shoulder, a gentle caress. “That’s awful.” 

When she turned to face him, expecting his usual flirty smirk, she was surprised to find an expression of genuine commiseration on his face.

He seemed to realize it and let his hand drop. “It’s just, such a lovely lady deserves better than that. Don’t you think, Amon?”

“Yeah.” Amon was still focused on her, his full attention almost a pressure at her side. “You know, we could be like family. Me and you and Dalim. Friends, anyway. And that’s better than family.” He said the last bit with more passion, a flare of anger burning in the depths of his cold gaze. 

“I like to make friends. And you guys seem . . . nice? Nice enough, anyway.” Alice gave him a small smile. 

Dalim put a hand to his chest. “All that and I get ‘nice enough’? I am losing my touch.” 

“Maybe you are.” Amon threw a pillow at him. “Let’s stop talking about serious stuff and play a game.”

Alice perked up. “I love games! What will we play? Cribbage? Dominoes? I’m pretty good at checkers.”

Dalim and Amon exchanged a look that Alice didn’t catch. There was glee in Amon’s eyes and a certain wariness in his friend’s. 

“This is a special Cradle game. It’s played with magic.” Amon slid bonelessly to the floor, his back against the couch now. “We’ll teach you how to play.”

Alice helped herself down as Dalim found a spot nearby. “Ok. So what do we do? How does it work?”

“It’s really easy. I’ll use this magic crystal to make a little ball. And you will use your crystal to catch it and toss it to Dalim.” Amon handed her a small, glowing crystal. “On every pass, we’ll make the ball a little bigger until it pops. Whoever it pops on, loses.”

“Ok. I - I never did anything like that before but I can try.” Alice looked at the magic crystal in her hand. It was smaller than her pinky, and glowed with a faint blue light. 

Dalim leaned close. “Don’t worry, it’s not hard. When it’s your turn to catch, I’ll help you.” 

Amon gave a shrill laugh. His eyes turned red, like a bloody film drawn over them. The crystal in his hands dimmed for a breath and then a crackling ball of lightning appeared in the air just above it. “Impressed yet, Alice?”

“I am, actually. That is amazing.” She leaned closer and felt the hair prickle at the static surrounding the orb. “Is it safe to touch?”

“You might get a little zap if you. I don’t recommend it,” Dalim put a hand on her arm. When she leaned back, he let go. “So - to play the game, close your eyes.”

Alice did as she was instructed, though she didn’t want to. “And then?”

“Focus on the crystal in your hand. See it in your mind. Feel the pulse of magic in it, constrained by the structure. Eager to be let out.” Dalim’s voice was low and easy. 

She tried to feel for the pulse, reaching toward a power she didn’t quite understand. For a long moment, there was nothing but her own racing heartbeat. The crystal was cool in her palm, no different than any pebble she might pick up. A tension built between her eyes, and the mental image she had of the crystal wavered. When it did, she felt the first stirrings of the power within it.

“It hums,” she said softly. 

Amon laughed again. “Yeah, it is kind of a hum.”

“You’re doing great, princess. Now hold onto to that feeling, and open your eyes.” Dalim guided her to the next step with practiced ease. 

Alice slowly opened her eyes while still clinging to the tuneless hum of the magic crystal. Dalim and Amon swam into view. They were both staring at her. 

“You got it,” Dalim smiled. “I can tell because your eyes are as red as Amon’s” 

“S-so now what?”

Amon answered. “When I toss this lightning at you, you’re going to reach for it. But you’re going to use the hum you’re feeling in that crystal to reach out, not your hands.” He hunched forward, anticipation in every line of him. 

“Ready, princess?” Dalim gestured toward Amon. When he did, the pale-haired boy lifted the ball and lobbed it toward Alice. 

Her eyes went wide as she saw the roiling, crackling ball of lightning float through the air toward her. It seemed much larger than it had when it was just sitting above Amon’s hands. Her hair crackled with the static rolling off of it, and her skin prickled uncomfortably. She tried to reach with the hum of the crystal, to stretch out that vibration toward the ball, but the magic didn’t budge. 

Alice tried again as the lightning drew ever closer to her. She didn’t want to get a painful shock. Whatever she did, her connection to the crystal snapped, the hum disappeared, and the ball was almost to her. Panicked, Alice threw out a hand. “No!”

The ball of lightning winked out of existence.

Amon and Dalim stared at her, open mouthed. 

“W-what just happened?” Alice looked from one to the other.

“I told you she could do it.” Amon grinned widely. 

Dalim grimaced. “You broke the spell.” 

“Is that bad?” 

Amon took her hand. His skin was almost fever hot to the touch, dry, and soft as sin. “It’s fantastic. Truly.” His eyes were ablaze with unexpected passion. “You are the only person I know that can break a spell like that. Not counter it. Not block it. But break it.” 

“It’s a power from the Land of Reason. I wasn’t sure you could do it, but Amon thought if we pushed you, you would.” Dalim shrugged. “Good job.” He didn’t sound entirely pleased. 

“We should test it,” Amon said, his grin so wide it looked like it must be hurting his cheeks. “Practice with it.” He was positively gleeful, and his mood was catching.

“Yeah! We can see what sort of spells I can break. It’s like my very own super power.” Alice was getting excited now. She’d never had any kind of specialness to her - never excelled in anything. And now she had a special power no one else had. Well, no one in Cradle anyway. 

Dalim tugged her hand away from Amon’s grasp. “Sure. But not tonight. We need to plan it out. Figure out what we want to test for, what kind of challenges you need.” 

Amon’s gaze narrowed as he looked at his friend, but after a moment he nodded. “Fine. It can wait on proper planning. But let’s not put it off too long. We need to know if we can con- if she can control it at will.” 

“And we will. Later.” Dalim stood and helped Alice to her feet. “I think this is enough for tonight.”

She nodded. “I am excited but he’s right. Let’s get together tomorrow and decide what we want to test and how it works. I don’t want to be caught by surprise again. If I’m going to be your guinea pig, I get a vote on what we’re doing.”

Amon scowled, but after a moment, he nodded. “Fine.”

“Great. So we’re all in agreement.” Dalim still held Alice’s hand. “I’ll walk you back to your room, ok?”

“I can get there on my own.” Alice grinned. “Oliver helped me with reading the map, so it’s a lot easier to get around.” 

“Oliver, huh?” For a moment his smile fell, then it was right back in place. “Alright. Then I guess this is goodnight, huh?” He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing the lightest breath of a kiss across her knuckles. “Goodnight princess.”

Alice tried to hide the little shiver he gave her. It was really quite unfair, this flirtation. She liked Dalim, but he was too smooth. Too . . . polished. On the outside, anyway. She felt like there was more, but he hid it under this playful guise. “Goodnight, Dalim. Amon.” 

Dalim let her go and waved as she stepped out into the hall. The door closed and she was alone again. Well, as alone as one got in a hall of raucous boys. It was quieter than it had been, but there was still plenty of laughter and chatter as she passed on her way back to the girls’ dorms. 

Just as she passed from the well-lit and noisy corridor into the quiet stairwell, Blanc came into view. Alice felt inexplicably glad to see him. There was something about him that put her at ease. “Blanc!”

“Alice.” His gentle smile greeted her enthusiasm. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She grinned. “I was visiting with some new friends. Amon and Dalim.”

Blanc nodded. “Lovely. I am glad you’re making friends.” He fell into step beside her. “I hope you don’t mind my accompanying you? I am headed in the same direction.”

“I don’t mind at all. I like your company.” 

“And I, yours.” His eyes glinted in the low lamp light, reflected flames flickering warmly behind the rectangle of his glasses. 

Alice had the most absurd urge to reach out and tuck a strand of his messy, pale hair behind his ear. Such an intimate gesture and yet the feeling between them seemed to welcome it. Still, she kept her hands to herself. 

“I hope that wasn’t too forward,” Blanc said after an awkward silence. 

“No! No, I said it first. I like that you like me too. Or, my company? You like my company. I like yours. Too. Company. As well.” Alice fell silent again, feeling like an idiot. She was babbling and now Blanc probably thought she was an idiot. 

Blanc laughed, a soft breathy sound that made something inside her uncoil pleasantly. A tension she hadn’t even realized she had. “Perhaps I can persuade you, then, to join me for tea? I’d like to enjoy your company even more, if that’s alright.” 

“I would like that.” Alice couldn’t read the expression he wore when she said yes. A mix, she thought, of delight and some faint melancholy or regret. She wondered why he held onto that trace of sadness and where it had come from. Blanc was a mystery to her, with his reserved politeness and his warm smiles. She wanted to know everything about him. 

“Excellent. Then, instead of supper tomorrow in the dining hall, you and I will adjourn privately for tea. Just the two of us.” 

There it was again, she thought. That secretive smile that seemed to promise so much without giving away a thing. The sensual curve of his lips, the slight lift of his brows, and the heat in his rose petal gaze made her skin prickle pleasantly. “Alright. That sounds good. Should I bring something?”

Blanc reached out then, his gloved fingertips almost touching her cheek. “Just your lovely self.”

Alice nodded. Somehow, that almost-touch was more enticing than all of Dalim’s obvious flirtations combined. 

The door below them clattered open as a group of students passed through the stairwell and onto another floor. The chatter broke the moment, and Blanc’s hand dropped to his side again. Neither said anything as they made their way into the women’s dormitory. Alice wasn’t sure what to say and Blanc seemed lost in thought.

He stopped at her door and she stood beside him, not really wanting to go in yet, but lacking an excuse to stay and talk. 

“I believe this is goodnight,” he said, sounding as reluctant as she felt. “It’s silly, I suppose, but I feel as if I could sit and chat with you for hours. We’ve only really just met and I’m already prepared to talk your ear off.” Blanc gave a self-deprecating laugh. 

“I wish you would,” Alice said, and then realized how that sounded. Her cheeks went hot as she tried to find a way to mitigate the damage. 

Blanc smiled. “I will see you tomorrow, Alice. Until then.” 

She managed a passable goodnight of her own and then went in, not staying to watch him leave. 

Part 5

50 SWEDISH WORDS FOR SNOW

Not surprisingly when living in a country where it snows a lot, people start to see differences and nuances in the type of snow, whereas in English the word might just be an unsatisfactory ‘snow’.

The Swedish language makes it easy to join words together to describe these nuances.

Here is a list of 50 Swedish words related to snow.

1) Blötsnö – wet, slushy snow 2) Drivsnö – snow that is blown into troublesome snow drifts 3) Aprilsnö – snow in April, according to superstition, signifies plenty of food for the coming season 4) Hårdsnö – compacted hard snow 5) Konstsnö – artificial snow 6) Kramsnö – squeezy snow, perfect for making snowballs 7) Julesnö – snow at Christmas 8) Klabbsnö – wet, warm snow for building snowmen 9) Kolsyresnö – frozen carbondioxide 10) Kornsnö – small white snow breadcrumbs 11) Lappvante – thick, falling snow 12) Lössnö – snow that can loosen and be dangerous 13) Majsnö – surprising and unwelcome snow in May 14) Modd – snow that has partly melted due to salt 15) Natursnö – real snow (as opposed to artificial) 16) Nysnö – fresh snow, crisp and white 17) Pudersnö – powder snow 18) Rekordsnö – an unusual amount of snow, breaking previous snow records 19) Slask – slushy snow mixed with rain and dirt on the ground 20) Snö – snow 21) Snöblandat regn – snow mixed with rain 22) Muohta – the Sami word for snow (it is said the Sami actually have 200 words for snow!) 23) Snörök – faint particles of snow that look like smoke 24) Yrsnö – snow being whipped around by the wind in all directions 25) Åsksnö – snow that pours down during a thunder storm

26) Snökanon – the word for the snow canon that creates artificial snow on ski slopes has also come to mean a sudden blast of snow that suddenly hits a place, and feels like snow has been dumped on you.

27) Jungfrusnö – virgin snow

28) Snösmocka – a huge amount of snow

29) Snötäcke – snow on the ground

30) Sjösnö – snow over the sea that can roll in over land

31) Snöfall – snow in the air

32) Flingsnö – snow with larger crystals

33) Skarsnö – a crispy surface on a blanket of snow

34) Packsnö – thickly packed snow

35) Pärlsnö – snow like small pearls that hurts when it hits your face

36) Snöglopp – wet snow mixed with rain

37) Spårsnö – snow that allows footprints to be formed

38) Fjöcksnö – a light, fluffy snow

39) Flister – snow the consistency of salt that stings the face when it falls

40) Flaksnö – a sheet of snow

41) Upplega – snow on the upper side of a tree branch

42) Firn – liquid-like snow that can initiate an avalanche

43) Fimmel – sandy snow that falls at low temperatures

44) Själja – a thin layer of ice on top of the snow that resembles glass

45) Knarrsnö – crispy snow that creaks when you walk on it

46) Snöfyk – wet snow

47) Torrsnö – dry snow

48) Månsilver – a poetic word to describe the dusting of snow

49) Snöis – snow on cold water that forms an icy solid surface

50) Stöp – a mixture of snow and ice resembling porridge that forms on top of cold water

So, let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

No-Bake White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake (1 spoon)

It hasn't been a good few weeks in the Spoonie Kitchen, I have to say. Another two weeks of overtime, one of my relaxation days had to be completely scrubbed because of some major electrical work needing to be done on my flat, and the flat upstairs has got into the noisy parts of their renovations so I've been having to do most of my work-from-home job with banging and power tools drowning out my Spotify playlist, never mind the actual dictation I have to type up.

Still, when I did my grocery order for the month, I was insistent that I get a few ingredients for relatively easy treats, becuase the run-up to Christmas feels like a good time for that sort of thing and anyway, with this amount of spoon expenditure, I deserve nice things. So I pulled out my Quick and Easy Gluten-Free Cookbook (by Becky Excell, comes highly recommended) and looked up a few things that might brighten up my days a little. One of the ones that stood out to me was a gluten-free white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake. I mean, I'm still lactose-intolerant, but that's why we have Lactaid. It didn't sound too hard so I gave it a try. It's easy enough to deserve a place here. Now my only problem is having too much cheesecake, though I solved some of that by giving some to my stepfather.

Also this is largely going to be in metric, but that's what measurement conversion sites are for.

Here's what you'll need:

500g mascarpone

100g (around 3/4 cup) icing sugar

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

300ml (1 1/4 cup) heavy cream

250g white chocolate, melted and just cooled

275g fresh raspberries

For the base, you'll need:

320g gluten-free graham crackers (or digestive biscuits)

150g (2/3 cup) butter, melted

I actually have a couple of suggestions right off the bat here. If you're using digestive biscuits instead of graham crackers (which I had to because they don't have graham crackers at all over here, gluten-free or otherwise), you might want to add a little bit of sugar or honey to the butter when mixing with the crumbs, and maybe a tiny pinch of cinnamon. Digestive biscuits are a reasonable substitute but there's some flavour notes missing. Also, to make this dairy-free, just use dairy-free butter, cream, and white chocolate, and substitue dairy-free cream cheese for the mascarpone. It probably won't set quite as well, though.

Here's what you do:

Mash the graham crackers / digestives into crumbs, either putting them in a stand mixer or just putting them in a Zip-Loc bag and beat on them with a rolling pin for awhile.

Pour into a bowl and add the melted butter; stir until well-mixed

Spoon the mixture into an 20cm (8") loose-bottomed or springform pan, compacting it into an even layer at the bottom, before putting it in the fridge to chill

While the base is chilling, add the mascarpone, sugar, and vanilla extract into a bowl and mix until reasonably combined (10-20 seconds with a stand mixer or electric hand whisk on low/medium speed)

Add the cream and blend on medium speed for 1-2 minutes, or until it starts to firm up

Add the chocolate, mix until combined and you have a thick, spoonable mixture (only mix briefly - overmixing will make things start to separate out)

Gently fold the raspberries into the mixture until evenly dispersed

Spoon the mixture into an even layer onto the chilled base; let chill in the fridge for at least 5 hours, preferably overnight

FEAST

The electric hand whisk or stand mixer does most of the work on this one; everything else is all about the spooning and smoothing, so it's pretty ideal for someone whose tolerance for mixing things by hand is pretty low. The results are good, and obviously substitutions can be made for different flavours. I'm already pondering a couple of teaspoons each of cocoa powder and espresso powder sifted into the icing sugar and leaving out the raspberries for a mocha cheesecake. You also probably don't have to use fresh raspberries, but their tartness is a nice contrast to the sweet creaminess of the cheesecake. I'm going to test that theory by defrosting some of the frozen mango I have for smoothies and trying for a mango cheesecake. Basically so long as you have an obscene amount of mascarpone cheese, cream, and enough icing sugar to make it set, you can do whatever you want with this one.

Of course, these do take well to freezing, so you could also probably halve the recipe, use ramekins instead of a springform tin, and have single-serving cheesecakes, taking them out of the freezer to defrost when desired. A good notion for those who like the occasional sweet but can't get through an entire cheesecake by themselves.

Oh, hey, I nearly forgot. I actually took pictures of the results this time! So here you go - No-Bake Gluten-Free White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake!

Figment | Chapter 4

Chapters:  4/7 Fandom:  The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating:  Mature Relationships:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne Additional Tags: Mix of TV Dream and Comic Dream, Spice a little later, kinda enemies to lovers, Cause Dream likes when people backtalk to him, lots and lots of tension Summary: She had only been able to enter other’s dreams two years ago, but she knew the rules. Don’t interfere with the dream. Don’t create anything in another’s dream. Don’t destroy anything in another’s dream. But then she stupidly broke one of those rules and the Lord of Dreams does not take kindly to others messing with his domain. Chapter Summary:  A return to the Dreaming on better standing. Read Here on AO3 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

CHAPTER 4

It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for your sanity. For the first time in ages, I slept the whole night. There had been some slight apprehension, my mind playing over the encounter with the Dream King over and over again as if it had been a delusion my sleep deprivation had crafted for me. A clever trap. But as I slipped into the Dreaming, it was all wonderfully normal and absent the underlying tension. No nightmare waiting or twin stars watching me from the shadows. He’d been true to his word and I was free to exist once more in the dream world. I’d spent that first night in my own dream world, relaxing for once as all the tension drained from me finally. Blissfully and utterly relaxed, sprawled out on the lushest green lawn. The grass and flowers had almost curled around me lovingly embracing my worn mind. The next day the dark circles under my eyes lessened and some color returned to my skin. I smiled slightly at my reflection while getting ready for work. Meeting Morpheus, knowing that as long as I followed the rules then I could walk the dreams freely, had re-energized me. The colors were still bright while awake and I wondered if finally I would try and put some of that energy into attempting to pick up my writings again. Stories were why I got into book publishing to begin with, even if I was only a clerk for now. Maybe I could have the magic of the dreaming at night and translate that into magic during the day, do something useful with the odd gift I had. A few sharp thumps made me drop my compact into the sink, startled, and I cursed at the scattered powder before furrowing my brow. That hadn’t been the door…? It sounded again, inconsistent but sharp, and it took me a second to realize it came from the window in my kitchen and not the front door. I slowly, cautiously, made my way over as the tapping continued, unsure if I should grab a weapon or what. I was on the second floor facing the street, there was no way someone could climb up the brick wall and no tree was close enough to scrape the glass. I grabbed an old newspaper lying on the coffee table on the way and rolled it up tightly in my small hands, bracing myself as I pulled the cord to raise the blinds quickly. The raven on the other side jumped at the same time I let out a small startled scream. Its large wings flapped and it gripped onto the ledge to brace itself with sharp talons as I dropped the newspaper, hand flying to my chest. It took a few seconds for my heart to stop racing and for it to start tapping the window again with its beak until I finally unlatched the window and raised up the glass. “I assume you are Matthew,” I commented with a frown and raised brow. I felt a little dumb, talking to a bird, but it wasn’t the oddest thing that had happened to me in the past 48 hours. The large black bird hopped in a little bit with a head quirk and briefly I wondered if I had accidentally let in a stray bird. Then it spoke. “Uh, yeah, hi. Sorry about that,” Matthew replied sheepishly. My eyes widened and I froze, not expecting the bird to actually talk while I was awake. At least I thought I was awake. My mind had thought that maybe it was like a messenger pigeon, carrying a note or something. “You can talk?” I blurted and took a few steps back. “Oh, yeah, totally!” if he had shoulders he would have shrugged as if his statement was completely obvious and normal, “I thought the boss had mentioned that but guess that must have slipped his mind. Or he didn’t care, that’s a pretty big possibility with him actually.” I blinked slowly, trying to process that a talking raven was in my kitchen and chatting normally, “Yeah, must have slipped his mind that the raven stalking me can talk.” If a bird could look guilty, he did. He lowered his head, talons clicking against the wooden sill, “Yeah, about that, I…wanted to say I totally get that it came across super creepy! I promise, I didn’t see anything! I didn’t exactly have much of a choice, you know, when the boss says go follow the human you gotta kinda say okay, yes sir. But now that you both seem on good terms, I wanted to swing by and you know, say sorry for the awkward situation.” My eyes were still wide, arms crossed protectively over my chest. A bird was apologizing to me. “Did Morpheus send you?” I asked, leaning back against the countertop across from him to keep a bit of distance. Matthew quirked his head, big black eyes blinking at me, “Nah, he doesn’t know I came. Well, I’m sure he does know cause he knows everything but like, he didn’t tell me to come. Listen, I was human not that long ago and even if he doesn’t see how watching a girl through their window can come across, I do. So that’s why I swung by, especially if you may be hanging around the Dreaming every now and then. To say sorry. So…are we cool?” I couldn’t help the small smile crawling up my lips at the large, magical black bird that had thought to come back afterwards and say sorry for making me uncomfortable. The utter contrast in how he acted versus how Morpheus had been, especially in how they spoke. Matthew seemed to ramble on and on and I could only imagine him chatting endlessly at the mostly quiet being. “Yeah, we’re cool,” I laughed, “Thank you for the apology, Matthew. I understand you didn’t have a choice and you didn’t mean to be creepy.” His big, shining black wings spread out and he fluffed up his feathers almost in relief, “Yeah, yeah, no problem. I’m glad you and the boss are on good terms. Means I’ll probably see you around! You better get going though or else you’ll be late for work!” Glancing at the clock on the stove, he was, in fact, correct. I was running late if I didn’t want to run to work to get there on time. I shook my head at the utter absurdity that was my life, “Right. I’ll see you later, Matthew.” With a sharp caw and a goodbye, he hopped back out the window and spread his massive wings to take off into the sky. I leaned forward across the sink and watched him soar into the growing light of the day until he disappeared entirely from view. Smiling, I couldn’t help but chuckle unbelievingly and shut the window. I was going to be late for work after all.

-- A week passed with little fanfare. I stayed in my own dreams mostly but as Morpheus had said, dream walking was in my nature and it didn’t take long before I was opening doors to visit the dreams of the others that lived in my complex. The lovely old woman that lived above me dreamt of her deceased husband, them both doing nothing more than sitting on a park bench together and watching the stars whiz by like small fireballs. I sat in the grass a bit far off, watching with them alone in the tranquility and wonder. The single mother on the first floor dreamt of towering skyscrapers made of newspaper paper stacks where the world was black and white and the words themselves, made of ink, walked down the streets and slid up the walls to find their places. I stared as a single period bounced after the word “fixate” like a dog on an invisible leash and grazed my fingers along the top of it, watching as black ink stained them black. Black as the dreamlord’s eyes, absent of the twin stars. After weeks of paranoia, I would have thought that I’d be glad to be rid of the intense stare always watching me. But now that the Lord of Dreams was no longer a terrifying figure to me, just a man drinking black coffee in a nicely tailored wool coat and piercing blue eyes, I only found myself unsatisfied and with an insatiable curiosity. Turning, I glanced at the plain brown door standing tall in the sea of black and white and shrugged. Sometimes I didn’t even need to call the doors, them popping up in odd places to take me to other dreamers as if beckoning me. I wiped the black ink on my bare legs, dressed only in an oversized shirt and sleeping shorts, feet bare, and grabbed the knob before entering the new dream. I paused, the walls made up of a mixture of impossibly tall mirrors and glass windows. I frowned and walked down a walkway made of dark obsidian, the floor so shiny it reflected everything around it and the ceiling so tall it was only pitch darkness. Peeking through the windows, each looked upon a small scene as if it were an exhibit or a sound stage. Each window peered in on a different scene. A kitchenette, a dark office, a movie theater. Each held a different man on the other side, none I recognized, but the same woman in each. Jeanette, the next door neighbor. A deep disgust left my lips and I felt discomfort as in each scene the couples began to have sex or were in the middle of it, a glimpse into her different conquests. A familiar flash of dark brown hair further down drew my attention and then I forced my eyes to the ground, halting jarringly. That one I did recognize. Thomas. The dark walls of my bedroom familiar along with the black of my comforter. He was in my room with her. This was like a rogues gallery of all her different fuckscapades. That anger rose, familiar and curling, and I clenched my fists. She could do whatever she wanted and live her life however she wanted. But she had known me, been friendly enough after three years being in the same complex, saw Thomas and I on multiple occasions, and she still went through with it. My teeth clenched and I thanked whoever that the glass between the walkway and the scenes seemed to be soundproof. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The anger was something I felt when awake but never so vividly, as if I had squashed down emotions that seemed unattractive but couldn’t keep them at bay when dreaming. A mouse in the day and a coiling snake at night, wound tight and cautious. But I couldn’t break the rules just a week after getting reprimanded even though I desperately wanted to shatter the glass and mirrors all around me and destroy it all. It would be satisfying. I forced calm into each breath, nails digging into my palms. A door. Another door, different than before, where the previous one had been, beckoned me forward. It was old, with deep woodgrain and a swirling, arching frame that seemed hand carved. It looked like it could have come out of a fairytale and was absurdly out of place in the sex-dungeon like atmosphere of the current dream. The handle even was antique, a long flourishing brass. Not sparing a glance at the scene of Thomas and her in my room, I turned and walked back down the walkway and to it. I wasn’t going to let that dipshit ruin anything else for me. I needed the Dreaming, needed the escape. I pushed it open and suddenly, I was somewhere familiar. A library. Not just a library but the most magnificent library I had ever seen. Sprawling, endless rows and rows of books rising above me and in spiraling levels below as if crafted by M.C. Escher with a gorgeous cathedral-like ceiling and warm mahogany wood walkways. I’d been here a couple times before, had browsed the rows of books full of titles I knew and some I was certain did not exist. I had never been able to figure out whose dream it was, but now I wondered if it wasn’t someone’s at all. Morpheus had said the Dreaming existed even when we woke up so that meant there were certain places that were there for everyone to visit. The door disappeared behind me and I walked forward to let my fingers trail along the spines comfortingly. This place was a dream for me, no pun intended. I could stay here for days and read non-stop, devouring title after title. Books had been my escape when I was little, a lonely only-child who sought comfort with the fictional world to feel not so alone. And when I got older, I wanted to make my own stories, craft my own worlds. But I never got around to it. Life was busy, college wasn’t an option because who could afford that, and you can only be told your writing was “cute” and “interesting” so many times before you stopped sharing it. I sighed and read over the different titles, resigning myself to stay here for the rest of the night and try to purge the last dream from my head. “Hello, can I help you?” a voice asked from behind me. Startled, I pulled my fingers away as if in trouble and glanced over my shoulder to see a woman with round glasses and pointed ears standing there, a book held to her chest with one hand and the other tucked behind her back. She had warm, dark skin, complimented by a maroon overcoat that flared out on the bottom. I’d seen her a few times but never interacted, knowing deep down she wasn’t the dreamer of this place and not wanting to get “caught” per se. “Uh, sorry, I was just….browsing, I guess,” I winced, glancing down at my rumpled shirt and the ink stain still smeared on my leg. Hardly appropriate dress wear for a library, “Is that okay?” She smiled warmly, eyes scrunching up a bit behind her spectacles, and gave a gentle nod, “That’s no problem at all. Lord Morpheus told us that you may come by on occasion and that you are perfectly fine to do so.” I paused with wide eyes, “Lord Morpheus told you? So this isn’t someone’s dream?” Confusion colored her face for a second, making her pause and she shook her head slightly, “No, this is the library at the Heart of the Dreaming. We are currently in Lord Morpheus’ palace at the center. This place holds every book ever written or unwritten and the lives of many dreamers and histories.” His palace. I was in his palace and had actually been here before. Right under his nose and didn’t even realize it. Somehow he hadn’t realized it either until I made myself known. “I…didn’t realize that,” I muttered, still slightly stunned, “Sorry, this is all kind of new to me. I’m still getting the hang of everything and didn’t know that's what this is. I was passing through and had only wanted to read some.” Her smile returned and she nodded understandingly, “I can only imagine. When we are children, concepts like this are much easier to process so it can be difficult as an adult to grasp everything.. I am Lucienne, the Head Librarian of the palace. If you need anything at all, I’m more than happy to help. Was there anything you were interested in reading in particular?” Lucienne began to walk down the wooden walkway, holding the book she had been carrying lovingly against her chest and I followed along beside her, “Not particularly? Since I started dream walking, there’s been so much to see and take note of. I guess I wanted to take in all the stories and ideas that I could, there’s just so much of it.” “You’re a writer, correct?” she asked, glancing my way. I chewed on my lip and shrugged, “Sort of. I wanted to be. I have written some but nothing I’ve finished or ever published. I don’t think I’m very good at it honestly.” The librarian paused, pushing her glasses up a little bit higher, and looked at me with her chin turned up, “On the contrary, I believe your writing is rather good. A little raw but there’s a lot of potential there in the two of yours I’ve read so far.” “Uh-” I blinked large owl eyes at her, stopping a little ahead and turned sharply to stare at her confusedly, “Two of mine? I don’t- You’ve read my writing? How?” There was a pleased look about her, a smile in her eyes that was slightly sly as if she was relishing in a secret. Lucienne turned down the path to the left and went to the shelves there, skimming the titles quickly before she plucked a book out. With a wider smile, she proudly held up a black hardback book with gold embossing on it and my name written on the bottom. “Like I said, we have every book ever written and unwritten. All the stories that were never published or finished or realized, we have here,” she grinned encouragingly, “Including yours. And it is rather good so I am nothing if not a librarian if I don’t encourage you to keep at it.” I stared at the book, my name there in print, and glanced at the spot she had pulled it from. I could glimpse another book of the same size there along with a much smaller one. Three books. I had three in this magical library. “What’s the small one there?” I asked, stepping forward to inspect it. Lucienne folded both books now into her hold and came over to look at the small, thin book as I pulled it out. It was another hardback, but couldn’t have been more than fifty pages with my name now front and center. The urge to open it was too hard to resist, even if I didn’t know if I had to worry about some sort of weird dream paradox by peering into my own books. But what I found instead was a biography of sorts. It was about me. About my life. I think. The first few pages were empty though, bare and white, and when words finally started they began in the middle of the page, in the middle of a sentence, as if the beginning part of the story was invisible. The story didn’t begin at my birth, but two years ago during the first time I realized I was dreaming and perfectly lucid. The pages fluttered under my fingers as I flipped them, seeing the different dreams I had visited, meeting Thomas, our downfall, the nightmare, and meeting Morpheus. “Why is it blank?” I whispered, returning to the beginning and skimming my fingers over the stark pages. Lucienne cleared her throat, face more severe than it had been previously, lips pressed together, “The library writes the lives of different dreamers, but it has always had a hard time with Dream Walkers. I’ve found that it will usually start when a walker traverses their first dream, but…circumstances were unusual for you and so instead of starting at birth, it started two years ago.” “...but these were not normal circumstances and I am finding that I cannot fault you for this lapse. It was not your doing.” I frowned, remembering Dream mentioning the same thing. Unusual circumstances. “He said the same thing,” I muttered and shut the book, staring at my name, “That circumstances were different than normal. What does that mean? Does it have to do with why I didn’t start dream walking until two years ago?” The silence was loaded and Lucienne let out a deep sigh with a grimace. I could tell she was trying to decide whether or not to talk to me about whatever it was, that I was only a lowly dreamer and probably one of millions that she’s met. Why should she disclose anything to me? But then she met my eyes and I could see the sympathy there and pain. “Yes, in a way,” she started off slowly, “Until recently, Lord Morpheus had been…away from the Dreaming. Involuntarily.” I frowned and she let out another sigh, moving to start walking down the pathway again if only to have something to do with herself, “An occultist and his order managed to cast a ritual that entrapped the Lord and kept him away… It had an adverse effect on the world and the Dreaming. The Dreaming became unstable without our Lord. It wasn’t until recently that he managed to get free and return, which would be when you and the rest of humanity were also able to dream as before.” He’d been captured. The King of Dreams had been captured for god knows what reason. My mind could barely fathom that such a thing was possible, let alone that it had happened to him. A being higher than a god. Endless. “But I haven’t been able to dream normally almost my entire life. How was he gone for that long?” I asked disbelievingly. The look on her face fell even more and her eyes focused on the ground, Lucienne’s face set in a deep frown, “They held him for 105 years.” I froze in my spot, her walking a few steps more before noticing and pausing to look at me. Over a hundred years. Dream was held captive for over a century and was only free barely two years ago. It explained so much. Why my mother had never dream walked and then was gone while he was still locked away. My grandmother had only been able to do it as a child and then never again, but remembered it for the rest of her life. She had clung to it desperately and had known that her mother could do it as well. It was a gift in our family, but one that was gone for so long. My breath caught at the other implication. The Sleepy Sickness. It started over a century ago and only lessened two years ago. Because Morpheus was forced away from the Dreaming. My throat felt tight at the horror of it all. Millions of people suffered worldwide for so long because of the selfishness of a few people. “Why would they do something like that? That’s awful, it’s…disgusting,” I spoke with absolute revulsion. The devastation these people had caused, the sheer inhumanity to not only capture someone and hold them for that long but to see the world fall apart as a result and still not let him free. And he probably knew, could probably feel everything collapse while he was trapped. Humanity could be so terrible. “It was not their intent to capture me,” a voice dark as the abyss and soft like smoke replied behind me, close, “Their goal had been to capture my sister, Death.” I spun around just as the feeling of Morpheus’ power ghosted over my skin, the warmth of the fire that danced along the edge of his cloak so close and the only indication that he stood only a foot behind me. I towered over me, large and powerful. Gone was the man dressed so casually outside the café with me. Those black eyes were back, the stars intense from the void and piercing as he stared down at me with the cloak fluttering like a living thing around him, grazing against my bare legs. Dream’s hair was wild and reminded me of the ink left behind by the words in that black and white newspaper city, painted against the backdrop of the library. His face didn’t show anger or surprise to see me or that he had happened upon a conversation about him. It showed nothing at all. He was back to being the King of Dreams and all that encompassed, a ruler at home in his domain. In his palace. I couldn’t imagine seeing this figure and treating him as a pet, caging him for so long and thinking they could hold his power or make demands of him. But his words broke through the horror in my mind over the lunacy of his imprisonment. They had meant to capture his sister, Death. His sister was Death and they had wanted her. He hadn’t even been the goal, just a consolation prize for this order. “Why?” I whispered and I knew the revulsion at it all was plain to see. The burn of bile was in my throat and the sharp bite of stinging tears danced behind my eyes, “Why even try to do that?” The dreamlord watched me, silently, and those dark eyes flickered behind me to give Lucienne a slight nod. I didn’t have to see her to know that she was walking away, leaving me with the Lord of the realm. But he simply plucked the book I had been holding from my hands, long fingers so pale against the dark hardcover. He didn’t answer immediately, choosing to inspect the thin book that held my dreams quizzingly, flipping it open to the blank pages. I chewed on my lip, breath heavy in my ears and frozen in waiting, and watched his face and those black eyes ponder at the emptiness of the paper. “Greed is a powerful thing. Mortals fear the sunless lands so much that they wish they could take control of my sister’s gift. All of humanity should count themselves lucky that they did not ensnare her. I doubt many things would have survived if that had been the case,” he spoke so softly, almost as if he was distracted by his fascination with my book and the question was offhanded but I could feel his focus on me. Could feel him gauging my reactions and emotions. Dream’s fingers touched where the words in the book finally began, mid sentence, and traced them lightly. I could only stand there, frozen and marveling at the being before me. The embodiment of dreams and nightmares stood there, cloak settled around him like the night sky and calmly looking over the book of my life. He should hate us. Hate humans and their petty wants and wishes and greed. Hate them for causing harm to his realm and the world. And I was a reminder of what happened in his absence, the power he couldn’t tap down on now before he had missed the time table. He’d been angry at me for breaking the rules, for disturbing the Dreaming because it was fragile, scars fresh, and someone had already torn it apart before. I licked my lips and whispered to him, unable to speak clearly past the thick knot in my throat, “I’m so sorry.” He paused then, star eyes flicking up to meet mine beneath a dark brow, and a slight tilt of his head being the only indication of confusion, “For what are you sorry? It was not you that bound me for all those years. You did not steal my power and make the world suffer. So for what do you have to be sorry for, little dreamer?” With a soft snap, Dream closed the book and set it down, stepping slightly closer to me. I didn’t back up or break eye contact. It felt so reminiscent of our first official meeting, in the nightmare forest and the black void. Him bearing down on me, all that power raging and my anger burning hot. But it was a marvel how things had changed so quickly. Now he looked down at me with confusion, with intrigue, and I could only stand there with an apology on my lips. “I know I didn’t,” I murmured, the words so faint I was afraid the black writhing of his cloak would swallow them before they could reach him, “But I think someone should say it to you. You didn’t deserve that horror. No one does. And I’m sorry there exist humans so monstrous that they did that to you and no one helped get you out sooner…so I’m sorry.” Morpheus’ eyes narrowed and I couldn’t read the emotions there, unable to look away from him. His power was all around me, in the ground we stood on and the air we breathed. It wrapped around us. This realm was his but it was also him, entirely. He was the Dreaming itself, like he had said before in that first meeting. Slowly, he stepped slightly closer, almost imperceptible, and I could feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him. A feather light touch grazed my hand and those long, elegant fingers of his lightly wrapped around mine. I couldn’t breathe. His skin was the color of marble and I almost expected him to feel cold but instead he was burning, the flame of a hearth warming my own skin.  Taking my hand in his, he ever so slowly raised it, eyes fixated on mine the entire time as he gently pressed a kiss to my knuckles. A sharp streak of heat shot through me and I found that I couldn’t look away from him even if I tried. I was transfixed, the electricity of his lips warring with the burning heat from his skin touching mine. His lips were so soft, a bare graze but lasting. When he pulled away, he didn’t drop my hand, instead speaking centimeters away so the warmth of his breath could ghost over my skin, “Thank you, little dreamer.” Time was standing still and I was trapped. I felt like I was in that black void again but instead it was the endless abyss that swirled in his eyes. I swallowed, breaths shallow and ragged, and my voice low and hoarse, “I’m…glad you’re free.” There was the barest hint of a smirk, one that I had gotten to see just a few times before. Dream lowered my hand but didn’t completely let go as his fingers stayed wrapped around mine, the spot where his lips touched still tingling, “I believe you once said that you were tired of turning around and seeing me in every corner of your dreams.” Yes. Yes I had said that. In my defense, he was very angry and intimidating and was very much the King of Nightmares then. But this dreamlord, who gave out smiles secretly and only spoke in dark whispers, I think I was beginning to get used to him. Maybe even like him. Pressing my lips together, I shrugged, “I did…but I think the shadows in my dreams are a bit lonely now that you’re not haunting them.” He raised his brow, “I do not haunt them.” I grinned then, lightness returning as the heaviness faded away. I raised my free hand, still very aware of his hand softly grasping mine, and pinched my fingers an inch in front of my face, “You haunt a little. Maybe like this much.” Dream reached up and grabbed that hand as well, fingers wrapping around them and lowering them both, and much like the other hand he didn’t let go. And I realized how close we were, staring up at that impossible to read face, transfixed on those eyes that contained the universe and the small raising of his lips as he smirked down at me with both my hands in his. Fire and electricity raised through me, centering on where his skin met mine. His eyelashes fluttered, so dark against the paleness of his high cheekbones, as he stared down his nose at me, “In that case, perhaps I shall have words with your shadows and rectify that. It would be unbefitting of a monarch to leave his subjects wanting so.” The words were utterly slow, a drag of a finger along silk. The gentle whisper of heat along skin in the darkness. Sensuous and promising with the barest hint of a threat and power. I swallowed thickly, tracing the line of his nose and jaw and lips with my eyes. With a shuddering breath, I muttered back in the heat building in the shadows between us, “No, we can’t have that, your highness.” And his smirk at that was dark and full of amusement and curiosity and surprise. Raising the other hand he had managed to capture, he laid another kiss on the knuckles to match the first. This time there was a purposeful lingering, a slow drag of his lips along my skin, and I could have sworn those twin stars flashed mauve as he stared beneath those dark lashes. “No, we cannot,” Morpheus spoke against my skin and then pulled himself to full height leisurely. The flames along his cloak slid along my calves, the faintest whisper of warmth. With a slight bow of his head and the ghost of a smile still dancing on his lips, he stepped back and let his fingers slide away from mine. “Goodnight, little dreamer,” he murmured, “Rest assured that your shadows shall not remain lonely upon your next visit.” I smiled at that, body on fire, and bit the inside of my lip, “Goodnight, Dream.” And then it all melted away as my body began to wake up.

[ID: Several small, triangular samosas piled on a plate. Their skins are studded with small brown seeds. Two of the samosas are cut open to show their deep brown filling. End ID.]

Samusa / စမူဆာ (Burmese samosas)

Burmese samusa are smaller than Indian samosas, and their fillings tend to have a different spice profile. This recipe for potato samusa features a filling flavored with turmeric and black mustard seed and made richly sweet with the addition of jaggery—a tamarind dipping sauce adds tartness, saltiness, and umami. Leftover samusa are also excellent in samusa thouk—a brightly savory soup commonly made with split chickpeas and tamarind.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Tip jar

Makes 8.

INGREDIENTS:

For the dough:

1/2 cup (60g) all-purpose flour

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 tsp carom seeds (ajwain)

1 Tbsp vegetable oil

About 2 Tbsp water

For the filling:

1 1/3 cup minced potato (1 large, 160g)--or boiled and mashed

1/2 small yellow onion, minced (2 Tbsp)

1 large jalapeño, minced (2 Tbsp)

15 mint leaves, minced

2 1/2 tsp turmeric

2 tsp ground Kashmiri chili (mirchi), or to taste*

2-4 tsp jaggery or brown sugar

1 1/2 tsp carom seeds (ajwain), toasted and ground

3/4 tsp brown mustard seeds (rai), toasted and ground

1 tsp cornstarch (optional)**

2 Tbsp neutral oil

*Mirchi consists of dried ground red chili peppers and is different from chili powder, which contains additional spices. If you don't have any, you may use another type of ground red chiil (prik bon, gochugaru, cayenne pepper) or grind dried red chilis yourself in a spice grinder or mortar and pestle.

**The cornstarch helps the filling stay compact and non-soggy. I have, however, omitted it before without anything terrible happening.

For the dipping sauce:

2 Tbsp tamarind paste*

1 Tbsp vegan fish sauce (such as Au Lac)**

1 Tbsp soy sauce

1 Tbsp jaggery or brown sugar

1/2" chunk (5g) ginger, grated

2 cloves garlic, grated

3-4 Thai bird's eye chili peppers, minced

*You may also use tamarind pulp, soaked in warm water for about 20 minutes and then mashed into a paste.

**Fish sauce tastes fermented and salty, not necessarily like fish. If you don't have a vegetarian fish sauce imitation on hand, you may use any fermented soybean product (fermented bean curd, doenjang, miso paste, light soy sauce) plus 1/4 tsp of salt.

To fry:

Several cups of a neutral oil

INSTRUCTIONS:

For the dough:

1. If measuring by weight, spoon flour gently into a dry measuring cup and then level off. In a small mixing bowl, add all dough ingredients except water and mix until well-combined.

2. Add water 1/2 Tbsp at a time until a smooth, slightly tacky dough forms. It should not crumble or form lines at the edges when formed into a ball and pressed flat.

3. Allow dough to rest for 20 minutes while you prepare the filling.

For the filling:

1. If using whole spices, toast carom and mustard seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat for a few minutes until fragrant. Grind using a spice grinder or mortar and pestle.

2. Heat 2 Tbsp of a neutral oil on medium in a skillet. Add onion and fry for a few minutes until translucent.

3. Add ground spices (carom seeds, mustard seeds, turmeric, chili) and allow to bloom in the oil for 30 seconds.

4. Add jalapeño and fry for a minute or two.

5. Add minced potato and salt and fry on low until tender. If potatoes are still not tender and seem dry, add a teaspoon of water and cover to steam until they are soft. (If you are using mashed potato, just add it to the pan.)

6. Add mint and jaggery and cook, stirring constantly, until jaggery dissolves. Set aside and stir in cornstarch.

For the dipping sauce:

1. In a small bowl, whisk all ingredients together.

To assemble:

1. Divide your dough into four equal sections (each of mine weighed about 24 grams)--each of these will make four samusa. Divide the filling into eight equal portions. Take one ball and cover the dough that you are not working with.

2. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the ball of dough into a circle about 6" (15cm) in width, or about as large as you can make it--the dough should be translucent in places. You can do this by rolling out from the center to the edge, then rotating the rolling pin and repeating the motion, until you have gone all the way around the circle.

The carom seeds may form small holes around themselves as you roll out the dough--this is normal and these will close again as you shape the samusa.

3. Using a sharp knife, cut the dough circle in half. Set one half aside and cover it to avoid drying out. Place one portion of filling in the center of your piece of dough. Optionally, wet the edges of the dough to make sealing easier.

4. Fold one of the triangular sides of your piece of dough (in my pictures, this is the one at the top) over the filling. Repeat on the other side, overlapping the first piece of dough slightly, to cover the filling and create a triangular point on the bottom edge (on the left, in my picture). Press to seal.

5. Fold the still-open edge back over the samusa to seal in the filling completely and create a triangular shape.

If you are inexperienced with rolling out dough, you may not be able to get the dough thin enough to fold over a whole portion of filling--if so, just reduce the amount of filling in each samusa. If you're not confident that your samusa are fully sealed, you may (instead of deep-frying) pan-fry them in 1/2" (1 cm) of neutral oil, turning once, until both sides are golden brown.

To fry:

1. Fill a small pot with a few inches of oil and heat it to 350 °F (175 °C). A piece of bread dropped into the oil should slowly begin to form bubbles--if it browns and floats immediately, your oil is too hot.

2. Using a slotted spoon, gently lower samusa into the oil. Depending on the size of your pot, you may need to do this in batches--try not to cover more than half of the surface area of the oil, to avoid temperature fluctuations.

3. Fry, flipping occasionally, until golden brown on all sides. Set aside on a wire cooling rack or a paper-towel-lined plate.

4. Optionally, to produce very crispy samusa, fry them again at 370 °F (188 °C). If you want to save some of the samusa to eat later, fry them once and freeze; immediately before serving, fry again.

Serve immediately with dipping sauce. Leftover samusa are sometimes eaten with samusa soup.

mar.

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2. Rapid Fire Suppression: The ABE Dry Powder formula swiftly smothers flames, cutting off the fire's oxygen supply and preventing re-ignition, making it a highly efficient firefighting tool.

3. User-Friendly Design: Compact and easy to use, our ABE Dry Powder Fire Extinguisher features a simple discharge mechanism, enabling quick response during emergencies. Its ergonomic design ensures hassle-free operation for anyone.

4. Durable Construction: Crafted from high-quality materials, our extinguishers are built to last. The robust construction ensures they can withstand various environmental conditions, making them suitable for both indoor and outdoor use.

5. Compliance and Certification: EVA FIRE PROTECTION's ABE Dry Powder Fire Extinguishers meet the highest industry standards and are certified for quality and safety. Rest easy knowing you have a reliable firefighting tool at your disposal.

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Affordable Price, Superior Protection: EVA FIRE PROTECTION offers this premium ABE Dry Powder Fire Extinguisher at an affordable price, ensuring that superior fire protection is accessible to all in Sydney.

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Feel free to further modify the description as needed to better align with your specific branding and messaging requirements.

Deomax Group - Bathroom Renovations Mississauga

Our Bathroom Renovation Process

Welcome to **Deomax Group**, the name synonymous with excellence in bathroom renovations in Mississauga and beyond. We're your local renovation experts, dedicated to turning your interior home renovation dreams into reality. Whether you're dreaming of transforming a compact powder room or envisioning a luxurious three-piece bathroom, our skilled and experienced contractors are ready to bring your vision to life. Best of all, we believe in making your dream bathroom renovation affordable, with prices starting at just $4,500 for a 2-piece powder room and $13,500 for a 3-piece bathroom.

## Your Dream Bathroom, Step by Step

At Deomax Group, we've perfected the art of bathroom renovation with a meticulous four-step process:

### Step 1: Plan

Our journey starts with a conversation. We sit down with you to understand your desires, your unique wants and needs for the project. We're committed to designing a bathroom that not only meets but exceeds your expectations.

### Step 2: Design

With your vision in mind, our experts set to work, crafting a design that blends aesthetics and functionality seamlessly. The result is a bathroom that reflects your style while ensuring every element serves a purpose.

### Step 3: Build

Once you've fallen in love with the design, our skilled craftsmen get to work, bringing your vision to life. The transformation begins, with every detail carefully executed to perfection.

### Step 4: Clean

Our commitment to excellence extends beyond the renovation itself. After the project is complete, we offer professional cleaning services to ensure your new bathroom shines and is ready for you to enjoy.

We offer professional cleaning services upon project completion

Modern, Attractive Bathrooms

We offer a wide range of services for your bathroom renovation needs, so you can count on us to provide you with the best bathroom experience imaginable. Our services include:

Mouldings and trims

Electrical

Flooring

Insulation

Baseboard

Mirrors

Toilets

Showers

Sinks

Vanities

Doors

Countertops

Backsplashes

Jacuzzis

Drywall

Painting

Plumbing

Lighting

Windows

And so much more!

WHY CHOOSE US

We've earned the trust of homeowners in Mississauga and the surrounding areas for several reasons:

1. **Garbage/Waste Disposal Included**: We manage all renovation waste, leaving you free of concerns about waste disposal.

2. **Competitive Pricing**: Quality renovations should be within reach, and our prices reflect our commitment to affordability.

3. **Projects Completed On Time**: We uphold our promise to finish projects according to the agreed-upon timeline.

4. **Over 10 Years Of Experience**: With over a decade of experience in the renovation business, we offer expertise you can rely on.

5. **Insurance Protection**: We provide insurance protection on your project of up to $2,000,000, ensuring peace of mind.

Affordable Home Renovations

At Deomax Group, we understand that a beautiful bathroom shouldn't come at a high price. We firmly believe in providing you with a top-notch interior home renovation without breaking the bank. Our prices are competitive, ensuring that quality and affordability go hand in hand.

Mouldings & Trims

These essential features add character and sophistication to your bathroom while concealing unsightly elements.

Bathroom Electrical Assessment

Our electrical services ensure the safety and functionality of your new bathroom, offering flexibility for lighting and energy-efficient appliances

Bathroom Flooring

We help you choose durable, easy-to-maintain flooring materials that add to the overall look and feel of your bathroom.

Bathroom Insulation

Keep your bathroom warm and comfortable with various insulation options, ensuring energy efficiency and moisture control.

Toilet Installation

Modern toilets add value and convenience to your bathroom, offering features like heated seats and touchless controls.

Bathroom Lighting Installation

Lighting can transform your bathroom into a functional and stylish space, with options to suit various sizes and styles.

Shower Installation

Choose the right shower type to enhance both the function and aesthetics of your bathroom, with options for all bathroom sizes.

Bathroom Sink Installation

Select from various sink types to match your style and space requirements.

Bathroom Vanity Unit

These pieces of furniture add storage and organization to your bathroom, coming in a variety of sizes and materials to match your style.

Bathroom Door Installation

A new door can enhance the aesthetics, efficiency, privacy, and security of your bathroom, adding value to your home.

Bathroom Countertop Installation

Countertops add storage, functionality, and style, helping to create a polished and organized bathroom.

Bathroom Jacuzzi Installation

 Add luxury and relaxation to your bathroom, with benefits for your well-being and home's value.

Bathroom Drywall Removal & Installation

Consider improving your bathroom by removing old drywall and installing new sheets for a smooth, refined finish.

Bathroom Wall Painting

Freshen up your bathroom with a coat of paint that not only enhances the appearance but also helps prevent mold and mildew growth.

Bathroom Plumbing

Proper plumbing ensures the success of your bathroom renovation, including the installation of fixtures, pipes, toilets, sinks, and showers.

Bathroom Window Installation  

 Let natural light in, improve ventilation, and increase energy efficiency with the right bathroom windows.

Contact Info

Ready to transform your bathroom into a space of comfort, style, and functionality? Contact Deomax Group - Bathroom Renovations Mississauga today:

Name: Deomax Group - Bathroom Renovations Mississauga Address : 3662 Denburn Pl, Mississauga, ON L4X 2R2, Canada

Phone : +16477603999

Our reach extends to the following areas:

- Ajax

- Aurora

- Barrie

- Brampton

- Burlington

- Caledon

- Concord

- East Gwillimbury

- East York

- Etobicoke

- Georgetown

- Halton Hills

- Hamilton

- Innisfil

- Keswick

- King City

- Kleinburg

- Maple

- Markham

- Milton

- Mississauga

- New Tecumseth

- Newmarket

- North York

- Oakville

- Oshawa

- Pickering

- Richmond Hill

- Scarborough

- Stouffville

- Thornhill

- Toronto

- Unionville

- Uxbridge

- Vaughan

- Whitby

- Woodbridge

Hours of operation

- Wednesday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Thursday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Friday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Saturday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Sunday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Monday: 8 AM–8 PM

- Tuesday: 8 AM–8 PM

Deomax Group is committed to being your trusted partner for affordable, professional, and timely interior home renovations. Contact us today, and let's embark on a journey to create the bathroom of your dreams that fits your budget. Your vision, our expertise, a beautiful bathroom—let's make it happen!

Find Us On Google Map

Saint Row 3 Morningstar Member & The Specialist Outfit Download

This is a Request From one of our Patron. Phhheewww It's Finally Over. I Actually Dislike This Game Due to their nature They Rip-off From More Famous "Grand Theft Auto" but in recent Year  they Successfully  invent their formula in their more recent games (Such As Saint Row 3 In this case) Which I Appreciate As GTA Gamer. This is Ironic considering On Their More Recent Game Entries (GTA: Online) They Copy some stuff from the game they used to insult most. But that's a Story for another day... Anyway, Cut The Chase. We got an Outfit of two Fans' most Loved characters of this game and lucky someone made us do it. Good for you, boy. We also put some Bonus in there in case you want to play "Dirty" 3:)

Morningstar Member

Info: The Morningstar is the oldest surviving gang in Steelport, and as such, commands considerable respect among criminals. Their main business is arms dealing (legitimate and non-legitimate), but they are also involved in human trafficking and prostitution.  Their gang colors are red and pink and their insignia is a red star. Like the Luchadores and the Deckers, the Morningstar are a part of The Syndicate but are the founding member of the group, who call all the shots. Anyone who dares to cross their path also crosses paths with the rest of the Syndicate and had better be prepared to face the consequences. Morningstar is a European gang with exquisite tastes. As such most of their members dress in expensive clothes and drive fancy, high-class vehicles. Under the leadership of billionaire, Belgian, arms dealer Phillipe Loren, Morningstar maintains both legal and illegal operations around the world. For instance, they operate a high-end gun boutique in town called Powder, which sells weapons to people who have the cash. Simultaneously, the gang outfits illegal organizations, governments, and militias with weapons as well. Tech Specs

Custom Mesh & Custom Thumbnails

Age Range: Teen-Elder

Female Only

1 Color Swatch

Package Include: Outfit & Shoes

Category: Costume ( For Outfits) , Boots (For Shoes)

"Grace The Specialist" Outfit

Info

Specialists are sent to kill the player if they attain a  high Notoriety  level with any of the 3 Syndicate gangs. Specialists are  unique for  each gang, and boast high health and damage output.  Specialists also  share the trait of being unable to be used as Human  Shields, instead  knocking the player away. In this case it was shown by one of Gangs in  Saint Row 3, Deckers. named Grace, are younger, futuristic  looking women on rollerskates; they carry a D4TH Blossom in each hand  and also come equipped with a Shock Hammer.  Unlike other Specialists,  they are very fast and agile and have the  ability to teleport. They  skate around in a pattern –warping from place  to place to disorient the  player. This makes them a tricky target.  While they are equipped with  dual SMGs, their more dangerous moves are  hitting the player with their  Shock Hammers, which are difficult to  evade. It can briefly knock the  player to the ground and cause a heavy  amount of damage. They are  extremely distinctive since their outfit consists of short  mini-skirts  and torn fishnet stockings.

Tech Specs

Custom Mesh & Custom Thumbnail

Age Range:Teen to Elder

Female Only

Package Include: Shoes, Outfit & Kneepad

1 Color Swatches

Cateogory: Boots (For Shoes), Short Dress ( for Outfit), Socks (For Kneepad, in order to compactible with almost any Stocking)

@emilyccfinds @sssvitlanz

Chapter Ten References

For a short chapter, there’s a lot of things mentioned in passing here that I think are worth bringing up in further detail, so here we go!

The fun I had researching rations! Also, can I point out that some sources consistently write “k-ration” whereas others say “k ration”? Don Malarkey’s book used without the hyphen so I followed his lead. 

The US Military had multiple types of rations. K rations had 3 separately boxed meal units (one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner). Combined, one day equaled about 3,000 calories. This may sound like a “high” calorie intake but a few things to note: certain items were considered virtually inedible (the fatty pork loaf was a consistent miss from my research, and the lemon powder was too acidic to consume) and subsequently thrown away. As a result, the calories consumed would often be less than the intended sum and even at 3,000 calories a day, men who subsisted solely on k rations would still lose weight and condition. It was especially prevalent in areas with extreme weather (extreme hot or extreme cold). As a result, k rations were only meant to be used for a few days. That’s not how it played out in many circumstances though, as men would be stuck eating k rations for a week or more. You can read more about them on the wiki page, it’s a bit introductory but you can get an idea for the components.

(Other rations like the c ration or 5 in 1 ration seemed a little more palatable than the k ration but the k ration was the most compact, so. Lucky paratroopers.) 

If you’re particularly curious, there’s a gentleman on youtube who ate a few items out of a k ration. Disregarding the age component, you can get an idea of the packaging and actually see what some components of this particular meal looked like.

Dick Winters’ memoirs note that while the men were sleeping (so June 6th into June 7th) he had trouble doing so himself and went out to scout. He encountered a contingent of German soldiers, which he heard coming due to their hobnailed boots. The American boots (mentioned by brand name in this chapter, corcorans) by comparison, did not have nails affixing the sole to the shoe so were silent on the cobblestones. Dick mentioned that he could smell the distinct German tobacco as they passed. He didn’t engage and no one saw him, and he returned to Easy without issue.

His memoirs actually mention a specific memory of seeing Harry Welsh walking among the men, checking on them, that night. I wrote that into this chapter. Harry and his absolute devotion to Kitty warms my heart and I enjoy him a great deal.

Random date mention in this chapter: 1939. If you ask someone “when did WWII start?” the answer is really going to vary depending on where you are. Many Americans might say 1941 with Pearl Harbor (though the European answer of 1939, with the combined German and Russian invasion of Poland, is also pretty commonly accepted). If you are asking this question in Asia, you may get 1937 which is when Japan began its invasion of China (July, ‘37). Again - WW2 was a global war and while in the West we often focus on the European theatre (or American involvement in the Pacific), the war in the Pacific as Japan moved to establish itself as the region’s imperial power (kicking out European powers from their colonies in the area as Europe was focused on dealing with the German threat in Europe, as Japan wanted the raw materials from those territories) is complex, significant, and still impacts regional politics to this day.

However, for context of this story in particular: 1939 obviously, is the “before/after” for Europe. Germany invaded Poland in September. The following year would be a busy one for Germany: in April of 1940, Germany would invade Denmark and Norway, and the following month would be their invasion of the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and France. The Battle of the Atlantic however, began with the initiation of hostilities in September of 1939. This is when you begin to see the German u-boat threat make itself known, though it would skyrocket exponentially in 1940 and 1941. One of the first ships sunk at the outbreak of war in 1939 was a passenger ship, the SS Athenia. Among the casualties were some US and Canadian civilians, the media of both nations covered the incident. The Germans covered up their involvement in the sinking (some even asserted it was a UK propaganda effort) but despite the Germans modifying official documents to conceal their responsibility, a majority of Americans did believe the Germans had done it, irrespective of what other conversations were happening. (The truth was revealed post-war at the Nuremberg trials).

While not mentioned by name in this story, the sinking of the Athenia (and subsequent Battle of the Atlantic) is a significant component in the plot’s backstory for reasons that will be revealed in an undetermined number of chapters.

ART DECO OBJECTS From the Prince and Princess Sadruddin Aga Khan Collection. 

Vanity cases, powder compacts and cigarette boxes are the backdrop for refined decorative effects, executed on the miniature surfaces. To look at, these feminine accessories are veritable masterpieces of creativity, fantasy and technique. Made from gold or platinum, they are enriched with precious stones and gemstones, and covered in mother-of-pearl, enamel or lacquer. (x) 

The Myth of the East. CHINESE INFLUENCE: 

1) 1927 Cigarette Case by Cartier Paris.

2) 1928 Poppy Vanity Case by Janesich, Manufactured by Strauss, Allard and Meyer, Paris. 

3) 1930 Koi and Dragon Compact by Cartier Paris. 

4) 1927 Dragon and the Pearl Vanity Case by Cartier with mosaic by Vladimir Makovsky, Paris.

5) 1928 Mountain Landscape Vanity Case by Boucheron Paris. 

6) 1929 Vanity Case by Black, Starr and Frost Mosaic probably by Vladimir Makovsky. 

7) 1925 Panther Vanity Case by Cartier Paris.

Ocean Vuong, "Amazon History of a Former Nail Salon Worker" [POEM]

Mar.

Advil (ibuprofen), 4 pack

Sally Hansen Pink Nail Polish, 6 pack

Clorox Bleach, industrial size

Diane hair pins, 4 pack

Seafoam handheld mirror

“I Love New York” T-shirt, white, small

Apr.

Nongshim Ramen Noodle Bowl, 24 pack

Cotton Balls, 100 count

“Thank You For Your Loyalty” cards, 30 count

Toluene POR-15 40404 Solvent, 1 quart

UV LED Nail Lamp

Cuticle Oil, value pack

Clear Acrylic Nail Tips, 500 count

May

Advil (ibuprofen), 4 pack

Vicks VapoRub, twin pack

Portable Electric Nail Drill

Salonpas Heat-Activated muscle patch, 40 count

Lipstick, “Night Out Red”

Little Debbie Chocolate Zebra Cakes, 4 boxes

Jun.

Large faux-clay planter pots, value set

Carnation Condensed Milk, 6 pack

Clear Nail Art Acrylic Liquid Powder Dish Bowl, 2 pcs

Birthday Card—Son—Pop-up Mother and Son effect

Nike Elite Basketball Shorts, men’s small

Jul.

Saviland Holographic Gold Nail Powder, 6 colors

Nescafé Taster’s Choice Instant Coffee

Advil (ibuprofen), 4 pack

PIXNOR Pedicure Double-Sided Callus Remover

Bengay Medicated Cream, 3 pack

Aug.

Newchic Ochre Summer Dress Floral Print, sz 6

Wrigley’s Doublemint Gum, 8 pack

Plastic Adirondack Lawn Chair, colonial blue

Sep.

Nail buffers and files, 10 pcs

Coppertone Sunblock, 6 oz

Oct.

CozyNites Fleece Blanket, pink

Sleep-Ease Melatonin caps, 90 count

Icy Hot Maximum Strength pain relief pads

Nov.

Tampax, 24 count

Faux-Resin Hair clips, 3 pack

Dec.

Advil (ibuprofen) Maximum Strength, 4 pack

True-Gro Tulip Bulbs, 24 pcs

Jan.

Feb.

Healthline Compact Trigger Release Folding Walker

Yankee Candle, Midsummer’s Night, large jar

Mar.

Chemo-Glam cotton head scarf, sunrise pink

White Socks, women’s small, 12 pack

Apr.

Chemo-Glam cotton scarf, flower garden print

“Warrior Mom” Breast Cancer awareness T-shirt, pink and white

May

Mueller 255 Lumbar Support Back Brace

Jun.

Birthday Card—“Son, We Will Always Be Together,” Snoopy design

Jul.

Eternity Aluminum Urn, Dove and Rose engraved, small

Perfect Memories picture frame, 8 x 11 in, black

Burt’s Bees lip balm, Honey, 1 pc

Aug.

Sep.

Easy-Grow Windowsill herb garden

Oct.

YourStory Customized Memorial Plaque, 10 x 8 x 4 in

Winter coat, navy blue, x-small

Nov.

Wool socks, grey, 1 pair

- From the collection Time is a Mother