#I want cranberry juice :c

[wyrm-with-a-why]

I’m so stressed the fuck out right now :3

[queer-little-demigod]

i wish i were special - clarisse la rue

summary glory matters more to her than you do.

fic type angst/hurt

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!hades!reader

word count 1k

warnings clarisse being mean, neglect, sadness, hurt, breakup, implied su!c!de

masterlist

That evening in the Hades cabin was lonely as per usual. You sat there, feeling stupid as you stared at the black candles flickering their orange light against the silver candleabra you had so painstakingly found out from the lost-and-found (ironically).

The dinner had been set, with Clarisse's favourite pasta with meat sauce, and two glasses of cranberry juice. All for her.

It had started with shying away from your touch in public, passing a comment here and there. But over time it got harder and harder to ignore.

Why didn't you do anything, Y/n? You might be thinking.

You just couldn't bring yourself to tell her she was being shitty, because more often than not she'd dedicate a win to you. With a speech, her lips on your skin, her hands on your body.

But ever since Percy came to camp, it’s always been about glory. It’s always been about being one step ahead of that random little twelve year old who just had a bout of good luck (in Clarisse’s opinion) and killed a Minotaur on his first monster encounter?

It was obviously more than that, too, but it still hurt the same.

It hurt even more that you had planned this date all by yourself, when she knew what a problem attachment and intimacy was to you, and she just didn’t show up.

You had poured your heart and soul into this, a way to show her how much you love her. A way to show her that you cared and weren’t just some unemotional Hades kid like everyone else thought you were. You actually wanted to show that you were different from everyone, not just the girls, because your godly parent, for the last eight years, had dictated how people saw you. How they assumed you were.

You gave up after a while, and lay back in your bed, staring at the ceiling after blowing out the candles on the little desk you made a makeshift dinner table.

‘What did I do wrong?’ Was your only question. ‘Was she tired of me?’ ‘Am I too much for her?’ ‘Is it because I’m a Hades kid?’

Little by little, you felt your heart break. Like a sculptor’s stone being chipped away bit by bit to make a painful masterpiece. You loathed having such a godly parent, you wished with all your might that things were different.

That maybe you were still special to her.

The next day, she came up to you with excitement. “Y/n, baby guess what—“

You didn’t want to hear it. Your whole body screamed at you to leave that situation, to walk away, make her feel shitty the way she made you feel shitty.

But you just couldn't.

You thought it would mzke you too vengeful, thought it would potray you as petty. It was just a missed date, she could've been busy, she forgot to tell you.

Intentional or not, it still hurt.

"That's amazing," you smiled tightly, resisting the urge to slide out of her touch as she swung an arm across your shoulders.

You loved her, but why did her touch feel like it was knives dragging down your skin? Why did it feel like she was not your girlfriend, but an outsider? An outsider who was trying to touch you.

She was just a stranger wearing your lover's face.

Three days later, it happened again.

You sat at the campfire alone, feeling far too shy to talk to the other campers, noticing how they shuffled away from you or formed such close-knit groups that you were physically excluded as well. How they whispered and stopped when you came. You saw it all. It sucked.

But what sucked the most was Clarisse not saying a single thing against it. How she, too, stayed with her group, not bothering to include you in any way whatsoever.

Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong again? Why was she doing this?

You saw that unlike usual, she didn't come to you in the evening to stargaze or just talk. She was at the training grounds. Again.

You understood that the battlefield was her temple, her spear her idol, the battlecry her prayer, but you also wished that you were as special to her as you once were.

You were a battlefield, but just the aftermath. The battlefield when it was littered with bodies, blood clumping up the soil and the air hanging heavy with the stench of death.

But you wanted more. You wanted something different.

You wanted to be the battlefield she was so devoted to. You wanted to be the spear she was with every evening, you wanted to hear the loving prayers she whispered to her spear once she finished her training.

Was it the loving prayers you wanted or the sound of her voice in that sweet tone once again? The tone which held all the adoration the world of war could offer, all the gentleness a child of the fierce battle could provide.

You wished you were special.

"Clarisse, you wanna hang out this evening?" You asked her again the following night.

"Can't," she said after ushering her friends away. Atleast she still valued private conversation.

"Why not?"

"I'm busy,"

"Doing what?"

"Why do you need to know?"

The way she snapped that last sentence, it made something in your heart ache. She knew you hated it when she snapped at you. She knew that you did feel lonely.

She knew it all.

You stared at the ground and sighed softly, "I don't,"

"Exactly," she scoffed. "Stop being so clingy, Y/n."

Clingy? Were you...was this her actual thought? Every time she said she loved it when you spent time with her...was it a lie? A petty lie sold to the naive, lonely Hades kid?

"Sorry," you shrugged, "I'll stop asking," you punctuated your sentence by turning around and walking off.

Why didn't she call back for you?

Why didn't she run after you?

Why weren't you special?

The next week went by the same. She would say she'd show up, she wouldn't, you'd ask, you'd be insulted. Over and over and over again.

One night, after you had spent another evening alone, you took a deep breath in and tapped on her shoulder, stating firmly, "We need to talk, Clarisse."

She was shocked. Shocked by the fact that you used her full name. You never used her full name. Ever.

You felt your palms sweat, your mind race, and your whole body almost seize up with nerves.

"Look, I get that you want glory in the upcoming capture the flag, you want glory at camp, you want glory in some quest or the other," you firmly stated. "But is glory worth more than me?"

A small, amused smile spread over her lips. "Is someone jealous?"

"Don't fucking tease me," you snapped, having had enough. "I'm not jealous, I'm--I'm angry. I hate being angry, but I especially hate being angry at you."

"Me? What did I do?"

An incredulous laugh escaped your lips. "What did--what did you do? How about we focus on what you didn't do?"

"Didn't--? Get to the point!"

"So you don't remember the missed dates, forgotten evenings, times where I wanted to talk but you called me--" You inhaled deeply, keeping yourself from bursting into tears. "You called me clingy or annoying or attention-seeking. I have ignored your shitty treatment for far too long Clarisse!"

Your heart ached as you saw her deadpan expression, her emotionless gaze. You felt your throat close up. You were in the middle of the ocean, salt water filling your lungs, stealing the breath out of them.

"I think you're overthinking it," she shrugged.

The water vanished. Now all that remained was fire. A new fire that coursed through your normally cold veins, that made you see red. It took everything in you not to punch her in the face.

"Really? You said that I was special," you snarled, glaring at her. "You said you'll never leave me alone, you'll never make me believe the bad thoughts in my head, and now I see that it's exactly what you do!"

Her silence is what hurt the most. She wasn't denying it, she wasn't apologising.

"Clarisse, don't you know how I feel? When I try to talk to people, they turn their heads with an awkward smile. When I walk into a room, people stop talking or laughing. When I sit near people they shuffle away, and for what? Because my father is the god of the dead. I'm punished day and night for something that I can't fucking control.

"You were the one who got me. You made me feel wanted, you made me want to wake up and live to see another godsforsaken day! But now..." you looked at the ground. No, you glared at the ground. You couldn't see her face.

"I always emerge victorious in the end," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Gods, you wanted those hands to hold you close and wipe your tears away.

You felt your heart break. "What?"

"I always emerge victorious in the end. Glory is what I live for," she said plainly.

Each word felt like a stab to the gut. Each word cut through you like a knife, like her spear tip cut through the training dummies in the arena.

"Glory matters more than me?" You whispered, looking up at her.

Clarisse felt her heart break at the look in your eyes.

You looked...hollow. Empty, a shell of a person. There was no twinkle in your eye, there wasn't the flash of laughter within them that she always saw. They didn't glow with an aura of love.

Empty. Like every child of the god of the dead would have seemed to be.

"Glory matters more than everything,"

"You said I was your everything,"

"Did you note the past tense, death girl?"

You didn't want to reply. You couldn't. You refused to talk to her after that sentence. Death girl?

If this is what love is, you didn’t want it.

Why did glory matter more to her than you did? You probably would never find out.

You wished you were special.

And you would just have to keep on wishing.

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

[brackishkittie]

୨୧- CHAPTER FOUR, blame it! - ୨୧

summary: you go to a party with your friends and see ellie, you try avoiding her the whole night but when she sees you talking to an old friend, her blood boils and she just has to say something.

c/n: alcohol usage, strong language, jealous!ellie, you and ellie argue ( kinda idk ), and ellie going crazy..again.

a/n: idk why this took me so long to finish but here you guys go! come get y’all juice!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️

series masterlist! - chapter four ➝ chapter five!

"girl I'm outside hurry up," ashlesha said as she tapped her nails on her grey leathered steering wheel as she signaled for nari to scoot over to the other seat with her bag. “I’m coming outside just let me grab my bag and I’ll be right out,” you answer back while fixing your lip liner and ending the call. you walk out of the house and head straight for ashlesha’s car, “girl we thought you were gonna take 18 years and 5 business days to get ready..” nari says as she fixes her blush in her small mirror. “oh please I didn’t even take that long..now let’s go, I’m ready to down some tequila and henny.” you all laugh as ashlesha takes the car out park and puts it back in drive. 30 minutes later, as soon as it hits 8, you all finally make it to the party. “I’m telling y’all..if ellie is here I’m leaving..” you say but get pushed infront of the door by your two friends, “GIRL GOOOO SHE’S NOT HERE!!” nari says, putting her hand on her hip, and groaning.

“ok ok!” you push open the door and walk in as ashlesha and nari follow behind you. you all rush to the kitchen for that well known red solo cup and only a few cranberry and hennessy shots later, you all are on the couch laughing your asses off at the littlest things and then you see her. the one person you didn’t wanna see was right across the room, in the corner, looking down into her cup, and her eyes suddenly dart towards yours as if she knew you were looking at her. she smiles slightly and looks back into her cup but god if you only knew..while she looked unbothered, she was sweating and panicking. “oh my god she’s here? MY PRAYERS!! MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!” she thought to herself and had to stop herself from screaming at the top of her goddamn lungs.

you furrowed your brows and huffed looking at your friends, “you guys said she wasn’t gonna be here” you groaned and playfully hit them both and they giggled. “it’s not funny cmon I wanna go home” you frowned and laid your head on nari’s shoulder. “you should go talk to her” nari says as she pats your head, “no way I don’t wanna talk to her” you sigh and look to your left and see dina and jesse making out in a corner like some freakishly horny crazy highschool teens. “ugh..get a room..” you roll your eyes and look to your right and see a very familiar face, “oh my god? jasmine?” you gasp and she looks at you, “y/n? oh my gosh, hey gorgeous!” you stand up and she comes over and hugs you. ellie sees this and immediately her face drops from “omg my favorite sexy ex that I miss so much is here!!” to “who the actual fuck is that touching her. what the hell.” she clenches her jaw as she watches you two from the corner of the room, her face hot and red.

the more and more you and jasmine laughed and giggled the more ellie felt herself losing her cool. she knew she was your ex now and she knew she couldn’t just march over there but the alcohol was kicking in and she was feeling bold. she walked over to you and jasmine and put her hand on your shoulder, “can I borrow her for a sec? yes? ok thanks.” ellie says as she pulls you away from jasmine who looks extremely confused. “what the hell ellie? what do you want?” you turn to her and say while she just stares at you, pulling her hand away from you and biting the inside of her cheek. “y/n are you doing this on purpose?” she says which makes you tilt your head and show visible confusion to her question. “what the fuck are you talking about?” you’re frustrated, folding your arms and leaning against the wall while she just stares at you trying to get you to fess up about whatever she thinks you’re doing.

all of a sudden, ellie’s face turns red out of embarrassment realizing you actually weren’t trying to make her jealous and that she probably needed to sober up from the alcohol. she rubbed her neck and opened her mouth to speak when she didn’t even get a chance because you immediately read her like a book once you saw her face turn red. “you’re jealous aren’t you?” you squint and almost laugh, “we aren’t together anymore els..move on please.” you say while pushing yourself off the wall to walk away.“whatever..there’s no one better than me anyway.” she now crosses her arms as yours fall to your sides. “oh fuck you. you sound like a man.” you roll your eyes and walk off while ellie flips you off and you can hear her mutter “fuck you too.” and you start giggling to yourself as you walk back over to jasmine.

as it got later on into the night you, nari, and ashlesha all fall asleep on the couch and around 3 in the morning you feel someone shaking you awake. “y/n? Y/NNNN!!! GIRL GET UP LET’S GO.” nari lightly slaps your face trying to wake you up and you start to open your eyes. “ughhhh my head hurts...I have a fucking headache what the hell.” you rub your head and look up at nari, “how many shots did I take?” you ask as she shrugs and looks at ashlesha for the answer but she just shrugs too. “god..can we go back to my place?? you guys can just stay until it’s finally morning.” you sit up from the couch and stretch. “yeah..can we order wingstop when they open? I’m fucking starving and I could fuck up some mango habanero wings right now…a cow even.” nari says while patting her stomach while you pick up your things and follow behind your friends who left the house. “do you think dunkin donuts is open? I need something sweet like now. I feel like a pregnant woman bossing around her wife and child.” nari says as you all fucking lose it while ashlesha starts driving back to your house, still laughing her ass off.

meanwhile with ellie though…

“oh cmon ellie..it couldn’t have been that bad...I hope…” dina says as she pats ellie’s back as she ugly cries into her hands about how much she fucked up that small interaction she had with you a few hours ago at the party. “well I mean..it could’ve gone worse.” jesse says as he chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair, “wow thanks jess, that totally makes me feel better!!” ellie says sarcastically which makes jesse huff and roll his eyes. “all she said was fuck you ellie..she could’ve like slapped you for even pulling her away or cussed you out even more for everyone at the party to hear.” he says while falling back on ellie’s bed and staring up at the ceiling. “jesse, you’re gonna send the girl into cardiac arrest please stop.” she looks at him and hits him on his arm, “well call me kevin gates because you know exactly what happens next after the cardiac arrest.” he laughs while dina and ellie turn to look at him with the most “shut the fuck up” expressions ever. “bad timing?..sorry.” he mutters and looks away.

“obviously?? and stop with that kevin gates video, it’s making me feel extremely ill.” dina says as she shakes her head and sighs, “ellie you really need to talk to y/n…SOBER and IN THE RIGHT MIND.” as soon as dina said that, ellie immediately stopped her ugly crying and side-eyed her so hard. “no shit dina..no shit..and stop yelling in my EAR because I’m right NEXT TO YOU.” ellie says as she wipes her face with her sleeve and goes to the kitchen for a tissue to blow her nose. dina looks at jesse and shakes her head, “man..she’s hooked on this girl..I feel bad because y/n may not come around and she’s on her bad bad BADDD.” dina scratched her head while jesse nodded in agreement.

ellie came back into the room and sat back down on the bed, “so what should I do? it’s only been like a week since our breakup. I can’t just say I wanna get back together now..” ellie groans and grabs her pillow that jesse was laying on, “hey! I was laying on that..” jesse sits up and frowns, “well that’s too damn bad.” ellie scoffs and hides her face in the pillow. “I say give it a few more weeks or a month maybe??” jesse says in response to what she said earlier which she freaks out about. “A MONTH?? ARE YOU CRAZY? she’ll already have moved on by then..I’ll just give it a few more weeks maybe, hopefully, she’ll unblock me on everything and talk to me...if not I’ll have to text her off one of my lurking accounts.” ellie sighs and rubs her temples, “I’m sorry did you just say ONE OF?? AS IN THERE’S MORE THAN ONE??” dina looks at her with pure concern as ellie turns to her and makes a face that says “uhm hello???? obviously???….”

“why do you need more than one?? one is enough to lurk at her..bro what is your problem?” dina blinks a few times before turning away from her and shaking her head in disbelief and disappointment. “in case she finds out it’s me and blocks me? duhhh like I need to have multiple accounts. it’s a necessity when it comes to lurking..you wouldn’t know anyway.” ellie rolls her eyes and nudges dina. “ok so like what if she presses all new accounts made will be blocked??” jesse blurts out which makes ellie’s neck snap towards him and she throws the pillow at him. “take that back NOW. do not manifest that negative energy into my life jesse.” she frowns and gets up, grabs her phone from her desk, and goes onto instagram. “now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do my daily lurking on y/n’s account.” ellie says with a smile while jesse and dina groan in unison.

tags: @elsmissingfingers @astrcmoni @cowgirlcherrie @theganymedes @ximtiredx @ellieswifee @liabadoobee 🩷🩷

[sundove88]

The Cookie Chonk Chart!!

So recently, @thetropicalfairy and I have had a discussion about which Cookies would be considered chonky- and here is the entire list! And the pic was made by her as well.

Note: Some OCs will be on this list- and some folks not shown in the pic will be as well. If there’s anyone you want to add to the list, that’s ok!

A Fine Boi (Somewhat Chubby): Herb, Churro, Aloe, Gold Citrine, Okchun, Elderberry (OC), Sable, Icicle Yeti, Grapefruit, Tiramisu, Habanero, Bubbles Dragon (OC), Snapdragon, Blueberry Pie, Lilybell, Pecan Brownie (OC), Grandberry Brawler 1/Glimmerberry, Grandberry Brawler 2/Grapeberry, Honorable Paladin Trainee/White Choco Chip, Serious Paladin Trainee/Vanilla Bundt Cake, Kouign Amann, Caramel Arrow, Silverbell, GingerBrave, Dizzy Cookie/Gorgonzola, SuperCar Cookies 1 and 2/Emmental Cheese and Cambozola, Partay Cookies/Swiss Cheese and Raclette, Blue Slushy, Xylitol Nova, Shadow Milk, Eternal Sugar, Mystic Flour, Burning Spice, Silent Salt, Golden Cheese, White Lily, Bumbleberry,

He Chomnk (Mostly Chubby): Dark Cacao, Crunchy Chip (Post Odyssey), Ice Candy, Olive, Strawberry, Custard III, Rye, Cream Puff, Cherry, Blueberry, Pinecone, Amber Sugar, Sea Fairy, Walnut, Cherry Ball, Zombie, Frilled Jellyfish, Carrot, Cotton, Milky Way, Hero, Canele, Mille-Feuille, Vanilla Sugar, Longan Dragon, Buttercream Choco, Pancake, Tea Knight, Tarte Tatin, Captain Caviar, Milkshake (OC), Snowfall Villager/Cashmere, Kind Villager/Poplin, Pumpkin, Parfaedia Principal/Deluxe Sundae, Creme Knights Preceptor/Chantilly Cream, Scovillia Headmaster/Hot Pot, Berry Parfaedia Student/Berry Compote, Citrus Parfaedia Student/Marmalade, Prune Juice, Captain Caviar, Tangerine Tanghulu, WildBerry, Timekeeper, Pure Vanilla, Mango, Muscle, Cranberry,

A Heckin’ Chonker (Very Chubby): Lord Oyster, Mozzarella, Royalberry, Princess, Tiger Lily, Milk, Beet, Yogurt Cream, Cocoa, Chocolate Bon Bon, Mocha Ray, Bacon, Pastel Meringue, Cheesecake, Red Bean, S’More, Frosted Choco (OC), Choco Malt (OC), Coconut Choco (OC), Turtle Brownie (OC), Fudge Ice Cream (OC), Snow Sugar, Ananas Dragon, Vagabond, Gelato (OC), Choco Milk (OC), Second Watcher/Choco Chunk, Grandberry Merchant 1/Blueberry Muffin, Grandberry Merchant 2/Honeyberry, Grandberry Merchant 3/Pinkberry, Spicy Scovillia Student/Army Stew, Hot Scovillia Student/Spicy Rosè, Sauna Egg, Golden Cheese Kingdom Citizen 2/Manchego, Space Doughnut,

H E F T Y C H O N K (Extremely Chubby): Avocado, Hollyberry, Princess Professor Mimolette (OC), Prince Professor Cavatappi (OC), Mala Sauce, Capsaicin, Moon Rabbit (Mostly due to her huge rabbit form), Peperoncino, Potato, Eden Dragon (OC), Dark Choco (After he left The Cookies of Darkness), Macaron, Abalone, Lotus Dragon, Spinach, Half Avocado, Hot Mala Warrior/Spicy Noodle Cookie, Spicy Mala Warrior/Chili Sauce Cookie, Mangosteen (Lychee’s Disguise),

M E G A C H O N K E R (Seriously Chubby): Lychee Dragon, Affogato (Post Episode 14), Elder Custard, Affogato’s Disciple 1/Cortado, Affogato’s Disciple 2/Galao, Pumpkin Spice Latte (OC), Mysterious Priest/Compound Choco, Marble Bread, Plain Yogurt,

O H L A W D H E C O M I N (The Chubbiest of All): Pitaya Dragon, Eggnog, Gatekeeper Cookie/Couverture, Stink Eye Tortuca,

[whiskey-bumblebee]

whatever that means

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Word Count: 1537

A/N: not part of I'm on Fire, but it's touch tank compliant! just a little thing that had been swimming around in my head. The article text is taken from a 2004 copy of Psychology Today so it's a little bit early for my Hotch (c. 2007) but I did my best y'all. Also not that anyone cares but the movie they're watching is 10 things i hate about you <3

Warnings: sex? but not... steamy sex? like... plot sex. Hotch is insecure but there's a lot of comfort <3

faceless hotch still courtesy of @lesbianhotch <3 <3

The bed shifts slightly and you feel a rush of cold against your legs as Aaron lifts the duvet and the heavy winter blanket. You reach for him blindly, too tired to open your eyes and accept the chilly morning.

You mumble his name, and he kisses your cheek tenderly.

"Go back to sleep honey, just going to the bathroom," He whispers, and you nod, pulling the blankets up to your chin and pressing your face deep into the pillow.

When you wake up an hour or so later, you open your eyes properly, and take in the cosy sight of your partner lying in bed with you, skimming through a magazine. You reach over and nudge his hand slightly so you can see the cover.

"Psychology Today?"

You laugh lightly, and move closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder so you can see what he's reading.

"Have to stay up to date," He jokes dryly, and you kiss his cheek, feeling filled to the brim with love for him. That's your man, this reading-psychology-magazines-in-bed-on-a-Sunday man, this mussed hair man, this man who's brushed his teeth so he doesn't feel like he's contaminating you by kissing you. You open your mouth slightly and he pops a mint into it, knowing what you're asking for.

"Any sexy articles you want to read to me?"

"Well, according to Arlene Goldman," He murmurs. "Good sex is about having the right attitude." He flicks a few pages back to where he'd briefly skimmed that article.

"Read to me?" You ask sweetly, letting your eyes close so you can focus on his low voice, feeling the way it makes its way from his chest out of his throat, over his tongue, between his lips.

"Give yourself permission to completely experience sex and its pleasures. That means you must let go of guilt, self-consciousness, judgments and personal hang-ups. Also, forget about your to do list and be prepared to fully experience the moment, says Goldman," Aaron reads.

"Are you feeling," You run your hand up Aaron's bare chest. "Hung up?" Your tone is teasing, and he drops the magazine, turning towards you to press a kiss to your lips.

You reach down to feel him, and feel that he's already rock hard.

"Aaron," You breathe. "Damn."

"Want you," He says, leaning back in to kiss you again.

It must be your fourth or fifth round when you press your hand softly to Aaron's chest.

"It's starting to chafe, baby," You say softly. "I can blow you if you want to come again?"

He shakes his head, breathing heavily. "I'm okay. Want me to stop?"

You nod, and he rolls off you immediately, springing up to fetch you a warm washcloth. He's gone for a while, presumably waiting for the water to warm up enough that the cloth will retain the heat (your water heater always seems to struggle on these cooler mornings).

"Do you want some juice or something?" He calls.

"Yes please," You reply. "Do we still have cranberry juice?"

He returns a few minutes later with the juice and the washcloth.

You thank him and rest the warm cloth over your pubic area, letting it ease the slight pain there. It's nothing too awful, just the result of continuous stimulation.

"Was that good?" He runs a finger over your eyebrow, where the hairs were sticking up at all angles from how you'd thrown your hand over your face in the throes of pleasure.

You nod. "Yeah, not for every day, but it was good," You smile.

After drinking your juice and going to the bathroom, you settle back into bed, encouraging Aaron to wrap his arms around you so you can spoon with him.

You press your ass back towards his hips, and he clears his throat, shifting his hips uneasily. You feel his erection pressing against you.

"Are you still hard?" You ask softly.

"Yes," He breathes.

"I'm sorry," You say. "I can't go again yet."

He kisses your temple tenderly. "Don't worry. It's not bothering me."

x x x x x

"Could you fetch a cough drop from the medicine cabinet? I don't feel like getting up," Aaron says, and you nod quickly, standing from the sofa.

"You okay?" You ask, and he nods.

"My throat's just a bit dry," He says, pausing the movie you'd been watching.

There's a silence that comes over the house, and it doesn't lift when you walk back into the room, a cherry cough drop in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

He freezes when he sees what you're holding, and you quickly go back to the sofa to sit beside him, setting the bottle aside as you give him the cough drop.

He's quiet for a long time, his face reddening with each passing second. It's so silent that you can hear him passing the cough drop from one side of his mouth to the other. In the end it's you who breaks the silence.

"I know it's none of my business, but... Has this been a problem for you?"

He shakes his head quickly.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," You say. "A lot of men take it."

He says your name softly, looking at you for any evidence that you're passing a secret judgment about his sexual performance.

"Is this why you were hard for so long the other day?"

"Yeah," He breathes.

"Was that the first time you've taken viagra?"

He looks down at the floor, suddenly incredibly attentive to the pattern of the rug. He'd never noticed that there were so many different shades of green in it.

"Aaron, I'm not trying to embarrass you, it's just that there are side effects that I can keep an eye out for if I know you're taking it," You explain. "And if you want to have less sex, or you're not feeling it, we can always slow down."

He shakes his head. "It's not that, it's just... I know sex is important to you, and I didn't want it to be a thing. I thought I'd get a prescription so that it didn't have to be a problem."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay. Please tell me if it is ever too much for you. It is important to me, but I don't ever want to have sex if you don't want to be having it."

Noticing how he's slumping into the couch and avoiding your eyes, you take his hands in yours.

"Hey, I love you. You don't have to take this stuff for my sake. Have there ever been times that I've wanted sex and you haven't been able to get an erection?"

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. "No. You make me so hard," He glances at you as he says the last part of the sentence, and you beam.

"I know that you like having sex on Sunday mornings, and I was just worried that you might want multiple rounds and I wasn't lasting like you wanted me to. Especially since I'm not as young as I used to be..."

"No!" You exclaim, louder than you meant to. "Oh my god, no, Aaron. You're perfect. If we were having more sex I think we'd run into problems. I worried I was going to get a UTI if we went much longer."

You straddle his lap, the paused movie behind your back completely forgotten.

"I love your stamina. I find it incredibly sexy that you fuck me the way you do. I love how you can always talk to me about what you need. I love your cock, but most importantly, I love you, Aaron. The sex is fucking incredible, but it's incredible because it's sex with you. It's sex with your hands, and your voice, and your body, and our relationship, and all of this love I have for you," You ramble, pressing your hands to his cheeks and your forehead to his.

You laugh to yourself, happiness flooding your veins. "All of this love. I'm amazed that I can fit all of it in one body."

When you lean back so you can look at him properly, you see that his eyes are watery. He cups the side of your face with his left hand, and you lean into his touch, closing your eyes with a small smile.

"I love you, honey," He says softly, running his thumb over your cheekbone. "Thank you."

You shrug. "It's nothing. I don't mind if you keep them, and if you ever do need them, but tell me if you take them, okay? There are some side effects that I'd want to look out for."

He nods. "Promise."

You look at him and feel love blossom in your chest again. "I'm gonna marry the hell out of you one day."

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel like you've sprouted wings.

"Alright. C'mon, I wanna see if the guy gets the girl," He says, slipping you from his lap into the space beside him. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"You know that he does," You say quietly. "You've seen this one before."

He kisses your forehead. "I know."

[kris-mage-fics]

Hey y'all, here's my recipe for Apple Blackberry Crisp! It's great warm or cold, by itself, or with ice cream or yogurt. Somehow I managed to make it sweet enough to please my partner's massive sweet-tooth, but not make it too sweet for me. Link to recipe, and it's under the cut. (Both imperial and metric measurements are given.)

Apple Blackberry Crisp Significantly modified from the apple crisp recipe in The Oh She Glows Cookbook by Angela Liddon Filling: about 4 cups / 1 L peeled and chopped apples about 3 cups / 750 ml cut blackberries (In total you need 6–7 cups / 1500–1750 ml of fruit, but it doesn’t need to be exact. I used 2 granny smith, 1.5 gala apples, and 2.5 packages (½ pint / 170 gm) of blackberries to get the amounts above) 1 tablespoon / 15 ml cornstarch or arrowroot powder 1 teaspoon / 5 ml ground cinnamon ¼ cup / 60 ml brown or raw or coconut sugar (or ⅓ cup / 75 ml if you want it sweeter) 1 tablespoon / 15 ml lemon juice

Topping: 2 cups / 500 ml rolled oats ½ cup / 125 ml almond flour/meal (you can also use regular flour, I just like how almond flour tastes in the topping) 1 teaspoon / 5 ml ground cinnamon ¼ teaspoon / 1.75 ml fine grain sea salt ¼ cup / 60 ml butter or margarine or coconut oil, melted (they all work well, so pick whatever you have on hand or prefer) 3 tablespoons / 45 ml maple syrup (or ¼ cup / 60 ml if you want it sweeter)

Instructions: 1) Wash and dry the fruit.

2) Preheat oven to 375 F / 190 C.

3) Grease an 11 x 9 inch / 2.5 L baking dish with butter, margarine, or coconut oil.

4) Measure out the dry ingredients for the filling and the topping in two separate bowls. Put whatever fat you’re using for the topping in a heat-proof bowl and set it by or above where the oven vents to melt it. (Or melt it in the microwave just before you mix the topping.)

5) Peel and chop the apples, cut up the blackberries, and place them in a large bowl. I cut the apple pieces fairly small and the blackberries in two to four parts, depending on how big they are. But go with whatever size you want as long as it’s fairly consistent.

6) Add part of the dry filling ingredients and part of the lemon juice to the fruit and mix, repeat a couple more times until it’s all thoroughly mixed together, then put into the prepared baking dish, spreading evenly.

7) If you haven’t set the fat for the topping to melt by where the oven vents, then melt it in the microwave. Thoroughly mix the maple syrup, and the fat into the dry topping ingredients. Spread overtop the fruit mixture in your baking dish.

8) Cover with aluminum foil with some holes poked in with a fork or knife. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the apples are just fork tender. Remove the foil and bake for another 10 to 15 minutes, or until the topping is a nice golden brown.

9) Once removed from the oven, let it stand for 10 to 20 minutes before serving so the juices firm up some and it’s not so runny.

10) Keeps well in the fridge for a few days, though it probably won’t last that long! It tastes good cold, but you can always rewarm it in the microwave, or cover it with foil and put it back in a 375 F / 190 C oven for 10 to 20 minutes, until warmed through. Note: Play around with other fruit combinations, or just go with classic apple. Though you probably want to use a little more cinnamon if it's just apple. Try cardamom or ginger instead of cinnamon. If you try apple cranberry, I suggest you use less cranberries than the amount of blackberries I called for, and use the larger amounts of sweeteners. The larger amounts of sugar and maple syrup are what the original recipe called for, but I have a low tolerance for sweet so I reduced it a bit. My partner, who has a huge sweet tooth, still loved it.

[shrekysenpai-love-me]

Souichi Tsuji Head Canon

Note: Souichi is over 18 in this story. I don't got TIME for you guys to be sliding up in my dms, saying, "He's a minor!". Tired of that shit. Enjoy~

~

"She's so beautiful. An absolute goddess..."

When you and Souichi first meet, the man is most definitely at a loss for words. He has never seen anybody as beautiful and graceful as yourself. 

Shiny, (h/l), (h/c) hair pulled back into a classy ponytail and pretty, plump lips that put even flowers to shame.

He's sure you are a goddess. And he isn't going to give up until you're his. 

My love for you is eternal. Don't you ever forget that.

When I tell you, this man will shower you in gifts and affection, this man will shower you in gifts in affection. 

From simple, "I love you"s and small sweets to "Your smile outshines the Sun!" and expensive jewelry you've ever seen in your life. This man would not stop until he knew you knew your worth. 

You want candy, jewels, hugs, cuddles? Whatever you want, he'll give it to you within a heartbeat.

Who shall I curse? Anyone who even comes near you, of course, my love.

Although, all his gifts weren't sweet. And some were very grotesque. 

Ranging from animal skins and rat bones. To some of his own baby teeth and even poems written in his own blood, the man would stop at nothing, no matter how creepy it was.

"Oh, this? It signifies how much I love you, my love. I truly am lucky to have a goddess such as yourself by my side."

Infatuated. Obsessive. And possessive. That was him. 

"Who was that? And why were they holding your hand? It's a co-worker? No. I won't allow you to see them anymore."

Whenever you went out with friends or anywhere in general, Souichi made sure he'd be by your side at all times. When he couldn't be there however, he'd make it known that you were his and his alone. Making you wear his own clothing, sweats and boxers included. Sometimes, he'd even buy you a new dress, just to flaunt that you, his beautiful wife, looked sexy in almost anything.

However, if Souichi didn't buy a dress, he wouldn't just send you out in his own clothing. No. He'd make the every night before, he'd cover your body in hickies and bruises (he especially seemed to love you neck, collarbone, and thighs). When you went out, the man would immediately suggest a wide collared sweatshirt with shorts. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

Your love and affection is simply too intoxicating, I can barely take it any longer.

Souichi can, and will, quite literally get drunk off your love. 

Just the slightest bit of contact and he'll be a blushing mess for hours. And don't even get me started on when you hug and kiss him. 

As soon as your hands make their ways around his neck, or your lips brush against his, the man will full out moan and squirm at the attention he's getting from you. 

The blood on my hands? Oh! It's just cranberry juice. 

This man is not afraid to kill for you. I mean it. 

And even though he'd never get his hands dirty, he would just to see the men that constantly flirt with you, or make you feel uncomfortable, suffer.

The more gruesome the death, the better. Anything that would takes days to clean up are a favorite for him. Unless he could use black magic. Then, he would gladly kill every single man you ever met.

My love, please don't cry. I did it for you. Can't you see? I love you. 

However, when Souichi killed, he could get a little carried away. So much so that you would accidentally walk in on the scene. 

Whenever a gasp broke the silence or your heavy breathing met his ear, the man would wipe your tears away with his blood-stained hands. 

"(Y/n). Honey. It's not real. They're fake."

"R-Really?"

"Yes. Really."

The more tears he wiped, the more attached you would become to him. Souichi was a manipulator, and he knew that as long as you believed him, he'd have you wrapped around his evil little fingers. 

"Y-Yes (Y/n), my goddess! I'm such a disgusting pig! More! More! Ah~"

The physical embodiment of submissive and breed able. This man would let you step on him, spit on him, pull at his hair, choke him out, anything.

And when you degraded him?

"You are a fucking pervert. Watching me undress. Have you no shame?"

The man moans in delight as he feels his orgasm coming closer and closer.

"Yes! A pervert! Ruin me, (Y/n)! Please! Make me yours! Treat me like the slut I am!"

No matter how hard he begged, you would never let up from any punishment he got. And he absolutely loved it. 

I gave you absolutely everything and this is how you treat me? 

When you find out, and believe me, you will, that Souichi has been lying to you all this time, you immediately break things off with him. However, it doesn't go as planned. 

"I don't want to be anywhere near a selfish, greedy monster such as yourself! We're through!" The man laughs when you say this. "Us? Through? Honey, I don't think you quite get where we stand."

Grabbing your hand before roughly pulls you towards him before giving you a bone chilling smile. "You are mine and mine alone. If another man even looks at you wrong, I'll kill him myself."

[classicsstudentsunion]

Ancient Recipes: Apricot Dessert (Apicius, De re coquinaria)

Did you know when you Google Apicius, they call him a professional chef?

Given that he was the closest thing Ancient Rome had to Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart, we guess it makes sense. These apricots are a fantastic dessert from De re coquinaria (c. 5th cent. CE), arguably the best-known Ancient Roman cookbook. They likely would have been enjoyed at room temperature, but taste fantastic after being chilled. We make this at every rendition of our Ancient Food Day, and it's always a hit.

Latin: duracina primotica pusilla precoquiis purgas, enucleas, in frigidam mittis; in patina conponis; teres piper mentam siccam; suffundis liquids; adicies mel passum uinum et acetum; refundis in patina super precoquia, olei modicum mittis et lento igni ferueat, cum ferbuerit, amulo obligas, piper aspargis et inferes. (De re coquinaria, 4.177)

Translation (by John Liao): Wash firm, early or small apricots, pit them, and put them in the cold [water]. Arrange them in a pan. Crush pepper and dried mint, pour over liquamen and add honey, passum, wine and vinegar. Pour over the apricots in the pan. Add a little oil and heat on a low flame. Thicken [the sauce] with starch while it simmers. Sprinkle with pepper and serve. 

Ingredients

10-12 apricots (pitted and halved if fresh, rehydrated in water overnight if dried)

1 ½-2 tbsp freshly cracked black pepper (plus extra for garnish)

1 tbsp dried mint flakes

1 tsp garum/liquamen (substitute fish sauce if you can't find/make it yourself)

3-4 heaping tbsp of honey

3/4 cup of red wine

3/4 cup of passum (also known as raisin wine. Substitutes can include cranberry juice (less sweet), grape juice (more sweet), or ice wine (if you don’t have to make this for a school event).

1 tsp of vinegar (2 tsp if you're not using passum/alcoholic passum substitute)

1 ½ tbsp of olive oil

½ tsp corn starch

3-4 tbsp cold water

Our Recipe

Soak halved, pitted fresh apricots in cold water for 15 minutes (skip if using rehydrated fruit)

In a wide pan (at least 3 inches deep), lightly toast the black pepper and mint at medium heat until fragrant.

Add the liquids: honey, passum, wine, vinegar, and liquamen. Bring to a simmer and stir until well incorporated, and the honey has dissolved. Continue simmering to cook off the alcohol. If the mixture begins to reduce too much, add water in small amounts.

Once the desired amount of alcohol has been cooked off, add the apricots. Continue simmering until apricots reach your desired texture (usually 8-12 mins).

Remove the apricots from the pan. Mix cornstarch with cold water into a slurry, and add to the remaining liquid. Stir and cook until thick, then pour over reserved apricots. Let cool.

Serve chilled or at room temperature, with fresh black pepper sprinkled on top.

Below, we served them with libum (Roman cheesecake) and statites (Ancient Greek spelt crepes).

Some more anachronistic ways to serve this can include using it as pie or tart filling, mixing it with Greek yogurt, or serving it with vanilla ice cream while it's still hot (sort of like a poached pear situation).

Some FAQs

Q. "How long do I actually boil the sauce?"

A. As long as you want, depending on how much alcohol you want in the dish (we serve these at school events, so we have to boil it to hell and back to get rid of all the alcohol).

Q. "The ancient recipe says to cook the apricots first, why do you make the sauce first?"

A. When we tried the apricot-first method, the apricots fell apart and turned the whole thing into a jam-like stew because of how long we had to cook the sauce. It tasted great but lacked the nice texture of the whole apricots.

Q. "Can I substitute ingredients 1-1?"

A. Generally, yes. For our passum substitute, we use cranberry juice for its tartness, but any of the three substitutes work. However, if you have the ability to make/buy garum and passum, definitely give it a try!

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 7

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Faith

I kept time with the metronome as I pirouetted around my living room. I’d decided early on in my transition that I wanted to be more graceful, and ballet had seemed like a good way to accomplish that while staying in shape. Murder on the feet, but so worth it- I was, if nothing else, of a marginal amateur level of talent, which was all I was asking for. So, each night, I donned my workout garb, moved the orange couch and brown coffee table a few feet so they pressed against the back wall, rolled up the white carpet that normally covered the linoleum floor, and put on the metronome and danced around the living room.

The tumblers clicked on the lock, and my front door opened to reveal my handsome, dashing, wonderful roommate and best friend entering the apartment. 

I broke out of my pose and grabbed my towel off of the couch, blotting my sweaty face. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he said, taking off his suit jacket and sticking it in the coat closet that indented our apartment just to the left of the front door, hanging it alongside his leather jacket and my white overcoat.

“How’s it going?” I asked, switching off my metronome and pushing the couch and coffee table back into their normal positions in front of the plasma screen television.

“Oh, you know, it’s going,” Zeke said. “You have a good workout?”

“Yeah!” I said, trying my best to show off my winning smile. My orange sports bra and black tutu may not have been the most conventional ballet attire, but it did show off my abs, something I was very eager to do now that I had them. 

Dancing didn’t just help me get in shape and feel that sweet, sweet gender euphoria, either- it gave me a great opportunity to be alone with my thoughts and actually THINK them. And that evening, I’d come to two conclusions: one, my friendship and working relationship with Zeke was too important to risk destroying by asking him to be my boyfriend out of the blue, at least not when I had no idea if he felt the same way as I did; two, I wanted him to make the first move. Maybe I was old-fashioned, but the idea of the guy being the one to escalate the relationship from non-romantic to romantic really appealed to me. Plus, if I put out hints that I liked him, was a bit more flirty and forward than usual, and he slowly cottoned on to what I was getting at and then asked me out, then it would all be perfect. And if he didn’t pick up on the hints, or just wasn’t interested, I had plausible deniability. It was an immaculate plan, totally fool-proof. 

I put a hand on my hip and leaned forward to show off my modest boobs and toned abs and smooth legs. “How do I look?”

“Like you just worked out?” Zeke said, aiming for the fridge and retrieving his jug of cranberry juice. He reached into the liquor cabinet after that and pulled out the flask of vodka, then poured himself a shot of it mixed with a glass of cranberry juice. 

‘ Oh. Right. I was sweaty and gross. “Good point. I should hit the shower. After that, wanna hang out?”

“Sure, sure,” he said, nursing his drink, swirling it around in his hands, staring at the wall. 

“You okay, Zeke?” I asked, tilting my head. 

“Hm? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and chuckled. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

“Oh?” I said. “What were you off doing? I never got a chance to ask you before you left.”

“Oh, just hanging out with a friend.”

“Who?”

“Calloway,” he said. 

My eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what?”

He took a long sip of his drink. “What?”

“Why were you hanging out with him?” I said, folding my arms over my chest and shrinking in on myself a bit. 

“Calloway texted me asking if I wanted to watch Gundam. I said yes, because I’m tired of all the weird hostility between us. And because I like Gundam,” Zeke said simply. “Honestly, Calloway is pretty cool outside of the ring.”

“Oh,” I said, taking a step back. “Fair enough. I… You can do what you want, but I’m probably not gonna hang out with him any time soon. You know that, right?”

“I mean, you two actually have more in common then you might think-”

“I… Am not crazy about that comparison, but if you say so, sure,” I said, taking another step back, pivoting left from the kitchen towards the hallway that led to the rest of our apartment. Finally, I turned around and went for the bathroom. “Glad you had fun, though. Seriously. You can never have too many friends. I’m gonna hop in the shower now.”

“Sounds good, Faithy,” he said, and he flashed that smile, and for a second everything was fine.

Everything was fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE. 

I showered, put my hair up in a towel, and wrapped a bathrobe around myself as I stepped out into the living room, where I found Zeke texting again while smiling that smile of his. The one that I knew wasn’t for me and me alone, but that I… 

No, stop that, Faith, he doesn’t owe you anything, I thought. He’s a person, and he can make his own decisions about what he does with his free time. 

Zeke and I wound up watching an old film noir that night, but I barely paid attention, and he was texting the entire time, smiling and chuckling every time his phone buzzed from a new message. I didn’t need to ask who it was.

***

The week went by normally, all things considered. Zeke and I worked on Dai Guren during the days, hung out and watched movies at night. Nothing was wrong, per se, but he was just always texting, and whenever I asked who he was talking to, he had the same answer:

Calloway. 

The one thing I found odd was that, despite the two clearly being close friends now (apparently), he always referred to Calloway by his last name. Never his first. And yeah, sometimes guys just did that, even with close friends, but even when he’d thought I was a guy Zeke called me by my first name. 

I tried to just keep it, keep him, out of my mind. Who Zeke spent his free time with was his business, and everyone needs more than one friend. I mean, I only needed one, but other people, yeah, they require multiple outlets for social engagement. And if Zeke and I were gonna start dating- which was not a guarantee, obviously, just something I’d really really really like to happen- then he would need a new platonic best friend. And I may not have been crazy about Keith Calloway, but hey, Zeke could do worse. Could be Olivia. 

Olivia. I had to go up against her in less than a week. I wasn’t crazy about that, but if nothing else, it might be a bit cathartic to defeat her. 

On Thursday morning, the day before our match, I decided to do a bit of shopping. I’d just gotten my monthly stipend from my parents- they were still a little iffy on the whole trans thing, still occasionally misgendered me and then immediately corrected themselves but got annoyed at me when I tired to correct them. But they were trying, and that was the important part. And hey, when both your folks are in the Army Corps of Engineers, wanting to build fighting robots for money is far from the worst thing you can do with your early twenties. I’ll get a real job someday- right now, though, I’m still figuring myself out. No reason I can’t do something I love while I do that. 

Zeke was passed out on the living room couch clutching his beloved baby seal plushie, Lacus. I jotted down where I was going and when I intended to be back on a sticky note and put it on his forehead. He didn’t wake up- the man slept like a rock, it was almost impressive- and I headed out. 

I cruised down Lincoln in the Star-Rocket Racer, weaving in and out of traffic as I headed for Venice. The best shops were in Santa Monica, but the more affordable and more trans-friendly ones tended to be in Venice. The air was warm with early-summer heat, the sky was clear and blue for miles, and the narrow street was uncrowded thanks to the just-shy-of-midday hours. The salty smell of the nearby ocean wafted through the air on a gentle, cooling seabreeze, and the clean street packed with shops and storefronts nearly sparkled in the sunlight. I wore my favorite off-white sleeveless sundress with a sunflower pattern, along with strappy wedge-heel sandals, a wide-brimmed black sun-hat, and a string of pearls around my neck that my mom had gifted me as a coming out present. I’d gone for a natural makeup look that day, subtle eyes and pink lipstick and just enough foundation to cover up my razor burn. My black cat purse was slung over my shoulder as I sauntered down the street, humming an Olivia Rodrigo song as I looked in the store windows. 

At the end of the street, I found a shop called ‘Surf Turf Apparel.’ Palm trees enclosed both sides of the brick store, and in the window was the most adorable green swing dress with white polka dots I’d ever seen. It looked a bit big for me (pros and cons of being hilariously short- thanks, hilariously short parents), but I could at least ask if they had anything more in my size. If not… I dunno, I could try shortening it myself. I’d always wanted to learn how to sew. 

I stepped inside and looked around- they had a lot of great dresses in here! Every style and color and fabric I could name, and plenty I couldn’t, hung from mannequins, harkening to eras as far back as the 1950s. At least one dress was there to represent each decade in the history of American fashion, standing proudly amidst the more standard beach apparel and SO MANY GORGEOUS HATS! I’d never been more in love with a shop this quickly! They had everything!

From the back of the store came an unnaturally high voice, what sounded like someone putting on a traditional female tone, perhaps someone, like me, who didn’t naturally speak in a feminine register. “Hi there!”

Poor thing- I’d gotten a bit better since I’d started doing vocal exercises on the daily. Maybe I could give her a few pointers.��

I looked at the source of the voice as she continued speaking, “Welcome to Surf Turf Apparel! How may I…”

The voice trailed off as I looked at the person behind the counter. We made eye contact. Prolonged eye contact. Prolonged, unblinking, silent eye contact. It was incredibly awkward. But when someone you low-key hated surprised you in a manner this thorough, it was hard not to be speechless and equally hard to look away. 

Calloway stood behind the wooden counter wearing a short-sleeved v-neck burgundy blouse, a golden butterfly necklace, and a full face of makeup- dark eyeshadow and red lipstick and very bold mascara. Her light brown hair was put up in a high but loose ponytail, with freshly-curled ringlets dancing about loosely on the sides of her face. Her eyebrows looked like they’d been freshly tweezed that very morning. It made her face look… Softer. Less aggressive. All of it together honestly made her look like a totally different person.

Was it ‘her?’ Should I be using ‘her’ for her? I should ask. 

But that would require me to do something with my mouth besides let it hang open in shock. Calloway, for her part, still wasn’t saying anything or blinking either. I think I understood now why Zeke had been exclusively using her last name around me. 

A tall, middle-aged woman (MILF, my brain automatically screamed) with long platinum hair, clad in a yellow A-line maxi-dress and flat white sandals, walked out from the back of the shop and said, “Close your mouth, Katie. Flies will nest. Also, you have a customer.”

“Hey, Mom, can I take my ten?” Calloway asked. 

“Sure. You want me to handle this one?” her evident mother asked. 

“Actually, Faith and I know each other, and we need to have a little talk.”

I was too shocked to react to this, too shocked to even do anything when Calloway… Katie, apparently… Grabbed me by the arm and shepherded me outside and into the alleyway next to what was APPARENTLY her family’s shop. Because of course it freaking was. 

“Okay,” I started, “So-”

“I’m not trans!” Calloway said, in that practiced high pitched voice of hers. 

I blinked. “Uh-huh. Right.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I shouldn’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something you should have other people confirm for you,” I said. “And because I think all this speaks for itself, so if you’re too blind to see it, then that ain’t my fault.”

She raised a finger, then lowered it and looked at the ground. “That’s a fair point.”

“So,” I said, arms folded together. Her eyes were instantly drawn to my chest, at which point I looked down and realized the fold was putting my cleavage on display. I tucked my arms away behind my back hurriedly. “Anyway. Was there anything else you wanted to say to me, or was it really just that?”

Calloway… Katie, or maybe it was still Keith on some level (hard to say with eggs this dense), exhaled audibly and said, “I need you to keep this to yourself.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. 

“I mean it, Watanabe! I- wait, seriously, just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that,” I said, struggling to keep the monotone out of my voice. “Look, everything else that’s happened between us aside, I am not just gonna out somebody because of spite. I mean seriously, what kind of asshole do you take me for?”

She looked at me blankly, unblinking once more. 

My eyes narrowed. “Oh my God, what kind of asshole do you take me for?!”

She let her mouth hang open for ten agonizingly long seconds before saying, “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“It was, yeah. But now it’s not!” 

“I don’t think you’re an asshole! Okay, there! I said it. I just… Didn’t think you were gonna do me any favors because… Last time we talked, I… And you…”

I heaved a beleaguered sigh. “I… Uh, so about that-”

“I’m sorry for antagonizing you last season!” she suddenly shouted, stepping forward, grabbing my hands and squeezing them inside her own. 

My pulse quickened and my jaw dropped. What the heck was going on?

She kept going: “I just… I liked playing to the crowd. I get way too into it, though, and I forgot what’s fun and hammy for me might be obnoxious and overbearing to other people. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about this, to your whole team about this, last year, instead of going after you every time I was on camera. I’m sorry.” 

She looked like she was on the verge of tears, sincerity and hope and despair radiating out from her very soul. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her long lashes mesmerizing as she opened and closed her eyes rapidly. I could feel my face going red. Was I… 

No, no. She was cute in a freshly-hatched way, sure, but I wasn’t attracted to her- it was just aesthetic appreciation. 

“I forgive you,” I said, squeezing her hands back. “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you. I was… In a bad place. I’d just come out, and my girlfriend dumped me on the spot because of it.”

“Oh my God!” she said, finally releasing my hands from her grasp and putting them on her hips. Outraged painted over her face. “That’s horrible! That’s why she’s on a different team this year?!”

“Yup.”

“What a bitch!”

“Please don’t say that about my ex, I still care about her,” I said flatly. 

“Right! Right, sorry. I just…”

“You get carried away sometimes. I get it.”

“And you’re going up against her this week?” 

“Yup,” I said. “First match of the night, no less.”

“Ooof,” Katie said. I figured I should just call her that- seemed safest. “I’m going up against Haverfield and Ansible.”

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” I said. 

“Big same.”

“Kick his ass for me?” I asked.

She stood at attention and gave a salute, of the kind so formal it would make my parents proud. “Gotta make things up to you somehow.”

“Hey come on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Yeah, but I do,” Katie said. “I’m tired of being the jerk. But if I’m going up against another jerk… Well, I’ll feel less bad about it. Also, I… I wanna be friends with Zeke. And since you two are besties… Well, you and I should probably learn to coexist.”

I smiled. She was so… Sincere, so earnest. It was really surprising. She was also much cuter like this, so that probably helped disarm me a bit. “Fair enough! To co-existence.”

“Here, here!” she said, extending a hand. 

We shook, and I’ll admit, I was taken aback by how firm her grip was. She was definitely intense, definitely a lot, but… Maybe she and I could be friends.

***

Buy my ebooks here:

[animeomegas]

How do you write so much? I have started work on my book (in my native language) and it takes so long for so few pages. I write a page for an hour, my hands drop from my own slowness

I am a very quick and prolific writer, that's true! Here are my tips, although I don't know if they'll work for other people.

a) An excellent space to write - I set up my room specifically to suit my writing. I have a separate pull out desk to my main desk, so that it is always clear and clean for me to put my laptop on and start working. The lighting is just how I want it, I have a coaster for my copious amounts of apple tea and hot chocolate and I have (fake lol) plants. I even have a little Neji figure watching over me while I write. I don't get interrupted when I'm writing, I'm firm about that with my family.

b) Routines - I like to get myself a drink and then choose a candle to light. Yesterday, I had a hot chocolate and burnt an orange scented candle. The day before I had cranberry juice and a cherry blossom candle. I know that drink + candle + writing desk = time to write. I also have specific sets of lounge wear, five cool outfits and five warm ones, that are my 'writing clothes', almost like having a work uniform.

c) Recognising that first drafts exist to be flawed - I tend to agonise over every sentence and that really slows down my writing. I have to make a consistent effort to remind myself that editing me can handle all the little bits that don't feel right, and as long as the dialogue and general progression are decent, then I can just move on and write the next part. I find this to be much faster than editing as I go.

d) Two projects at all times - I am someone who can get frustrated if my progress grinds to a halt, so rather than stop being productive when a project makes me frustrated, I simply move to my second project. This way, I am being productive more frequently, rather than giving up altogether for the day.

Those are the main ones, but it would be wrong of me to ignore that I have certain privileges that enable me to write very often. I don't have a job and I'm supported by my mum (who supports my writing 100%), I have had lots and lots of practice over many years, I can afford to buy things like my tea and candles, and my current mental health is much better than it has been in the past. I didn't write for four years because my mental health was so bad, and finally reaching the point where I was well enough to write again made a huge difference on my productivity.

Ultimately, try out a bunch of things and see what works! There are many schedules for productivity online, many different ways to establish a routine etc. I wish you luck with your book and I wish I could be more helpful. I'm sure your book will be amazing <333

[studywgabi]

Vagina Insecurities!

This, like any story worth telling, is all about a an adult woman with the sex drive of a 13-year-old boy. It is also one that no one asked for. This is an extreme overshare about my self-esteem, body, and sex life (sex death?), and why I'm still a virgin despite being hornier than a teenage methhead rabbit. Yeah, I want to have sex. Fucking sue me. I want to date, I want to fall in love, and I want to be railed. There it is. Let's talk about it!

I don't hear songs with lyrics like "pussy so good, I say my own name during sex" or "kitty on fleek" and think "yeah, me too. I totally get where you're coming from. This song really resonates with me because my kitty is, in fact, also on fleek."

I hate every part of my body, but especially those parts. My pussy is all lopsided. (There's a sentence that's never been typed before). My right labia minora (my right, not someone who was facing me) is more than twice as long as my left. It's too dark and while I'm all for bell bottoms and Fleetwood Mac, I could do without my thick, PCOS pubic hair (that extends to my stomach and thighs) being '70's style. I'm perfectly healthy and luckily I've never had any kind of infection, but my natural smell is just awful, and whole-body deodorant only seems to irritate my skin and make it worse. I follow all the rules religiously: just soap and warm water, "breathable" cotton underwear, yogurt and cranberry juice, but that's just the way I am. I smell terrible. Not unhealthy, just bad. Absolutely unbearable.

I hate my breasts because they're too small and look like they've already withstood 90 years of gravity instead of just 18. I'm a 34B, which is fairly average and would make sense if I were thinner, but is really unproportional at my weight. I feel like, being my size, I should be a C at least, but I carry all my weight in my stomach and not in my curves. My areolas are too dark, too big, and have these weird bumps on them, almost like acne. My entire chest is covered in dark hair, not just a few pluckable strays around my nipples, but my whole breasts and my sternum, along with every other square inch of my body.

My breasts act like cranky old neighbors in a vicious feud that started as mild annoyance over Left's dachshund always getting into Right's backyard, but escalated into flat-out suburban warfare, complete with brutal rhododendron sabotage. I'm the granddaughter trying to coax them into talking out their differences, but I just can't convince them no matter what I do. They stick out (barely) the wrong way- away from each other and down rather than up and straight ahead like they're supposed to. They're called headlights for a reason, but with these, I'd crash right into the car in front of me and end up totaling both of us.

I'd overshare on the internet about my 2-dimensional ass, too, except there's nothing to say. If you only saw me from the back, you would think I had gone through a car compacter. I am the "before" picture in the commercial for BBLs. I don't have a feminine shape. There is zero difference between my waist and hips.

I would feel so ridiculous in lingerie, like I was an actor in a silly skit. I bought some nice underwear just for me, hoping it would make me feel a little more confident even if no one else was going to see it, but it's just putting lipstick on a pig. Even wearing a nice dress feels so strange and pointless to me, because nothing I do could ever make me look on the outside like the woman I feel like on the inside. I feel like I don't deserve nice clothes and that I can't justify spending time or money on my appearance. I'm trying to move away from that, but it's an uphill battle when everything I've ever heard about bodies that look like mine are that they should be hidden, that they're something to be ashamed of, and that they're completely undesirable. I would like to think of myself as beautiful, and maybe I'll get there someday, but thinking of myself as sexy just feels impossible. I wish my body were my own. I wish my opinion about my body was mine. I wish that I belonged to myself. If you can relate to any part of this in any way, I'm so, so sorry.

I'm a total pussy when it comes to sex (ha. ha. ha.). The thing that's holding me back is fear. I am so, so scared. I'm scared I would get hurt. I'm scared adding physical intimacy into the mix would make a bad breakup a thousand times worse. I'm scared he would tell horror stories about the ugliest girl and the worst lay of his life to his friends, his future girlfriends, for their entertainment and sympathy. I'm scared he would compare me to his past girlfriends and regret breaking up with them. Most of all, I'm scared he would laugh. I'm scared he would see my body and be disgusted but amused. I'm scared he would think of me as a car crash: so horrible you can't look away. I'm scared he would find me morbidly fascinating.

I don't have sagely advice on this one. I'm insecure, and I know I shouldn't be, and I don't want to be, but I am. And it's holding me back from doing something I really (really) want to do. I guess I just wanted to be honest. I may be a crock pot, but if you're patient, I can burn just as hot as a microwave.

[amelia-rate]

Roselle aka sorrel aka hibiscus from flower to glass!

Growing hibiscus in my area, the Southeast US zone 8a, is pretty low-effort. I sowed the seeds in place in a sunny spot and kept the soil moist. Once the seedlings get a third set of leaves I pretty much left them alone. They started blooming in August and they'll keep going until the first frost.

The part of this hibiscus that makes the drink isn't actually the flower petals. It's the calyx, which is the part of flowers that protects the bud before it blooms. On Roselle hibiscus, this calyx continues to grow after the flower falls off and becomes tart and juicy. The seed pod will develop inside the calyx, and for making hibiscus drinks you'll want to separate them out. There's a way to use the seed pod's natural pectin to make jelly, but I haven't perfected it.

There's a couple different ways to use the calyces for drinks. You can simply pick the pods and dry them and use the dried material to steep a tea. You can also boil them in an amount of water that covers the calyces and strain out the material to create a syrup for a more concentrated flavor you can use in drink mixes. I added 3/4 cup of sugar and a generous portion of honey to mine.

The overall flavor of the Roselle hibiscus is very tart and similar to cranberry juice. I like to snack on the calyces right from the branch, they taste like warhead candies a bit. They're high in vitamin C and antioxidants, and the color is just lovely. If you have warm summers and want to grow some, I'll mail you seeds!

[sorority-system]

Person A is the host of their system, and also happens to be child, both in body and system age. The only other two members of their system are two teenage versions of themselves, who treat Person A like a little sibling.

Bonus: Person A is a very quiet child to the point of not allowing themselves to act like a kid. Headmates B and C, however, are determined to give them some good childhood experiences, and encourage them to do regular child things like play dress up and mess around in mud puddles. Hey, if they had to skip childhood, at least they can live vicariously through Person A! - via @pluralprompts

"No! I'm not doing it!" Shouted Claire as she curled up into a ball, covering her ears. The two protectors sighed as they sat beside her in headspace, looking at each other from the side. They had only suggested they play tea party with her, yk, because Claire acted more like an adult than her actual parents. What was so wrong about that?

"C'mon Claire," Kent said, patting her head cautiously, "It's really not that much of a big deal. Me and Danny just wanna play with you! You wanna play with us, right?"

She shook her head. "Can't. It's a waste of food and resources!" The two gave each other a funny look.

"Claire," Daniel's voice sounded reassuring, reassuring enough that Claire uncovered her ears, still curled up. "You're not gonna waste resources. I think you'd be using them if you were having a tea party! Using resources isn't a bad thing. Don't you want to invite Bear and Piggy to it? We can have little sandwiches!"

She perked up at that, "Sandwiches? Like in Frozen?" Both boys nod readily.

"Yeah! Leave it to us Claire! We'll make you the best tea party ever!" Kent pumped his fist into the air as he said that.

Although hesitantly, Claire nodded uncurling herself and "letting herself be surprised" as they fronted and switched between setting up the party and doing their best to make the food. After about half an hour, it was ready.

"Claire Bear!" Daniel called out. Claire uncovered her eyes and they widen as she realized what the two had done.

Daniel had done his best to cut up the sandwiches using cookie cutters. They were nutella on wheat (her favorite) and on another plate were various cookies and other treats he found. His version of "tea" was white cranberry peach juice, leftover from Christmas dinner. Kent had set up the stuffed animals with Bear on the left and Piggy right next to him (so Bear wouldn't be lonely) and somehow found her lost tea set, which was being used right now. Playing in the background was her favorite, The Mitchells V.S the Machines.

Claire took a second to look at everything, memories of it being prepared coming to her but yet feeling for foreign. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying but Kent and Daniel moved together in headspace to give her a hug.

"Me and Daniel know Christmas was hard, Claire Bear," Kent grinned, "So we made you this! Do you like it?"

Claire let the tears stream down her face for a second for laughing. "Yes! Yes! Yes! I love it!" She grinned as she took her place next to Bear and faced her stuffed animals towards the TV. "Do you think she'll forget?" Daniel said, looking fondly at his somewhat little sister enjoying herself with her stuffed animals.

"This moment? Probably. But us? Never," Kent laughed, nudging Daniel as the three of them enjoyed the little moments they had for now.

[jimblejamblewritings]

the imprint or the blood singer | part 18.

Summary: Y/N Black. All about La Push. Shy girl unless you get to know her. Not one to make friends easily despite the fact that she very well could. Friends with her brother’s friends until one Bella Swan comes back to town.

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light smut

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader, Embry Call x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You were relaxing in a bubble bath, watching Netflix on your iPad when the FaceTime feature popped up. It was from Embry. You made sure the foam covered everything before answering.

“Hey, Em.”

“Hey, (Y/N/N). Is now a bad time?”

“No, I’m just relaxing.”

Embry walked into Emily’s house where the rest of the pack also greeted you. He handed the phone to your brother and Bella while he went to the bathroom. You talked to Bella and Jake, who were finally out of the honeymoon phase, until Embry came back.

“How was the date with the trampoline guy?”

“Sean? It was alright. Don’t know if it’s gonna go anywhere but we’ve got a second date.”

“Well, one more date is better than no date?”

Embry nodded. “I think he’s a little uncomfortable that I’ve dated girls before.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance for your friend. Embry seemed chill about it though so you let it go. It was fun talking to the pack. Edward peeked his head into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna try to hunt.”

“Wait,” you called to him, reaching out an arm, before he could leave. “I want cranberry juice.”

Edward pretended to be annoyed but brought you a cup of cranberry juice anyway.

“Thank you. Love you,” you said in a very high-pitched cutesy voice.

“Mmm hmm.” Edward leaned over to peck your lips.

“Are we sure (Y/N)’s the one who imprinted, you seem kind of whipped Edward,” Jacob joked while the rest of the pack laughed.

They weren’t around to see you and Edward’s interactions and weren’t used to seeing this non-stoic side to the Cullen boy. Edward ignored Jacob’s comment and left you to go hunt. You continued talking to the pack until your fingertips went all pruny. Hanging up, you got out of the bath and started to dry off. You had packed your suitcase but was told last minute from Alice that she added a few extra things in the front pocket.

You finally unzipped it to see lingerie. Very fancy lingerie. With the bed broken in the master bedroom, you and Edward switched to one of the guest rooms. When Edward came back, he was greeted by you in a thin (Y/F/C) chemise slip. You were laying on the end of the bed drawing doodles acting like you didn’t see him. Edward laid down on top of you, pressing into your backside.

“Those are pretty flowers,” he commented.

“Yep.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen these… pajamas before.” He picked at the smooth silk.

“It’s new. Speaking of pajamas, I’m sleepy.”

“Sleepy?” Edward asked before kissing the back of your neck. “Too sleepy for me, little wolf?”

You closed the drawing pad and Edward lifted up so you could turn around and face him. The intensity didn’t fade from the first time. Two supernatural beings, it was always going to be intense. Edward tried his hardest to avoid grabbing at the actual bed frame, not wanting to have to buy Carlisle and Esme a second new bed. Only a few pillows were damaged this time around.

You looked down slightly embarrassed when the cleaners came around. The man looked at the broken bed in horror while the woman just stared Edward down. He came up behind you from where you were sitting in the kitchen, resting his chin on your shoulder. You looked up at him, his gold eyes were very dark.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“The animals here are a lot harder to catch, they’re used to predators around. I got a few small things.”

“Not enough,” you pouted. “You need more, you should spend tomorrow out there.”

Edward looked down and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’ll go out tomorrow, promise. What’ll you do while I’m gone?”

“Hmm, the island’s pretty, maybe do some painting. I’ve always wanted to try watercolor.”

You were about to say something else when you heard the two cleaners arguing. You wished you understood what they were saying but Portuguese wasn’t a language you knew. Edward though, knew multiple. But it wasn’t the words coming out of the cleaners mouths that were interesting, it was the thoughts especially from the female cleaner.

“She doesn’t like me very much,” Edward whispered in your ear. “She thinks I’m going to kill you.”

You two watched as the cleaners left without saying a word, they wouldn’t even look at Edward on the way out.

“So they know?”

“The local people have their superstitions, some believe more than others.”

“I’m guessing that woman is one of them.”

Edward nodded. You walked away to put on some real clothes while Edward started up the boat. The docks were crowded when you got there, it was June after all. Edward looked kind of strange covered up when you were walking around pretty exposed but other tourists didn’t pay him any real attention.

You two had been busy exploring the nearby island, enjoying seeing other people.  While you loved the alone time with Ed, being from La Push you were used to people constantly being around. You sat at the restaurant eating barbecue when a random man came into the restaurant handing out flyers. You gladly took one from him, it was for an outdoor party at some restaurant/bar.

“Let’s go!”

“You like dancing?”

“You don’t?”

Edward shrugged. “It’s fine I guess, but if you want to let’s go.”

The party wasn’t until sundown, giving you enough time to roam the stores for a better outfit. It was a dance hall, you had to show up and show out. You had traveled to four different stores, not quite finding the dress you wanted. Edward already had his outfit; you were looking for an outfit with pizzazz.

The flyer said the music was dancehall and samba. You wanted tight but danceable— something to compliment the music. The fifth store was sent straight from Heaven. Everything you wanted was there, including a nice set of plain black open toed heels. Edward sat patiently in the waiting area of the fitting rooms. You stepped out in a full outfit sans makeup.

“This is it.”

You paid for the outfit and went back into the fitting room to put it on again, the store clerk was gracious enough to let you change into the romper there.

“Now we just need makeup and I’m set.”

Edward laughed. “You’re really going all out for this.”

“It’s a party, how can I not?”

The mall had a makeup counter as well. Since there weren’t any huge festivals, the makeup artist had an open schedule. He gladly gave you a soft glam except for the (Y/P/C) lipstick you requested. You hopped down from the chair.

“Sun’s going down, I think I’m ready for a party,” you said excitedly.

“Not quite ready.”

You looked at Edward slightly confused, he pulled a small box from his bag. He opened it revealing an anklet. It was gold like your pack anklet only instead of the pack tattoo, it was the Cullen crest flanked by two sapphires.

“Think of it like a promise ring, I would’ve gotten a real ring but…”

Edward wouldn’t finish the statement in front of the makeup artist, he didn’t have to finish it. A promise ring would get lost if you shifted, the anklet wouldn’t. Edward bent down and tied the anklet on you. Like the pack one, the anklet was slightly loose on your human form.

“Promise anklet,” you said.

“I promise to love you forever,” he said as he stood up.

“You need something of mine.” You looked at the two anklets. “I’ll get you a copy of the pack bracelet.”

“Are they going to be happy about that?”

“They’ll have to be, now let’s go. I don’t want to miss the good music.”

The restaurant was already jumping when you arrived. Not one to immediately jump into the scene, you got drinks and sat down at one of the small tables with Edward and enjoyed the crisp night air.

“Alright, I want all my bad girls on the floor. Show your man how you dutty wine!” The DJ announced, putting on CeCile’s “Hot Like We”.

You stood up very excited and joined the rest of the ladies on the dance floor. While you didn’t know your real parents, dancehall CDs were in a small box of your mom’s belongings. Billy and Jacob used to get so annoyed at you blasting the CDs every Saturday morning when you were younger. You had played it so much, they had the lyrics memorized.

Halfway through the song switched  as the DJ told all the people on the floor to bring their partners in. Edward shook his head fiercely as you tried to pull him to the floor but he eventually caved and very hesitantly followed. You tried not to laugh as he stood there stiffly.

“You dance like a prim white boy from the 1900s.”

Edward gave you a look. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips.

“Just sway with it, circle your hips.” You turned around in his arms so your back was against his chest.

“I can’t sway with it,” he said awkwardly.

“That’s not what the bedroom said last night. It’s just like that.”

He wasn’t half bad. Still stiff but Edward had loosened up a bit. You turned back around to face him as a new song came on. You smiled widely as Edward seemed to enjoy himself more.

When you got back to the house you were still hype from the party. It was like you were ten again. It was a good thing Isle Esme was a private island because dancehall music was being blasted through the house’s Bluetooth system. Your hips moved in time to the rhythm as you took off your makeup and threw on a big band tee for pajamas. Edward rolled his eyes as you tried to pull him away from cooking you a late night dinner and force him to dance again.

He was happy you enjoyed yourself but had firmly decided no more dancing. Your feet quickly fluttered around him. You soon gave up when Edward didn’t budge. You realized that your strength was no match against the vampire and he definitely let you pull him to the dance floor. Still dancing, you grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the island counter watching the back of Edward as he finished the pasta bake and put it in the oven.

Edward turned to you. You reached out like a child beckoning for a hug; he obliged and stood in between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I had fun tonight.”

“It was fun,” Edward said stiffly.

“Thank you for trying.”

He chuckled as you started singing the lyrics to the music still blasting. Edward cut off your singing as he kissed you. You pulled away burying your head in his chest before looking up at him and kissing him again. Edward didn’t realize how much he needed to hunt until your lips were on his. The primal instinct was on tenfold. It was in the back of his mind, the need to taste his blood singer. The need to kill.

He kept kissing you hoping that like last time in the shower, it would calm him down. But nothing was working, the rational side of him was slowly disappearing as his eyes started losing any little bit of color they had turning completely black. Edward’s hands gripped you tightly, it was almost painful but not enough to alarm you— he was a vampire after all, you figured it was just his strength. His right hand pinned your thigh to the counter to stop you from going anywhere while his left hand worked its way into your hair. Edward smirked as your breathing quickened when his hand gripped your hair. It was a game, your scent was all he could focus on. You attempted to pull away from him but couldn’t before he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, making it bleed.

It sent him over the edge. Edward barely had any control and now it was all gone. He roughly pulled your hair, exposing your throat to him. If you had known what was going to happen you would’ve phased but you tasted the blood in your mouth too late and your speed was no match to Edward’s. His mouth was on your neck and he bit hard. He only came to his senses hearing you scream his name. Edward backed up abruptly, looking at you scared. You couldn’t say anything as you looked at the blood around his mouth, your blood.

“Edward are you al—”

Pain. Pain kicked in as your hand flew to your neck. Edward ran to get his phone returning in less than a second to the kitchen where he moved you from the counter to the floor. It wasn’t painful like when your ribs were broken. This pain was like fire but you couldn’t scream. Edward rocked you in his arms as he frantically mumbled for someone to pick up the phone, your body temperature was plummeting.

“Alice? Where’s Carlisle… Carlisle? I bit her. Shit, I bit her Carlisle, I don’t know what to do. She’s not human, Aro said the venom could kill her… (Y/N), no no don’t sleep baby please stay up.” Edward propped you up more.

“When did you bite her?” Carlisle asked.

“A minute ago, maybe two.”

“Her neck?”

“Yes.”

“Take her wrist in your mouth, you should be able to suck the venom out. I can’t think of anything else.”

Edward did as his adoptive father said. It took three bites to the wrist before you threw up on the kitchen floor. Edward finally calmed down as your body heat rose back up to wolf temp, the bite marks already closing up but scars had formed.

Edward used his vampire speed to clean up the kitchen and you. You were still sitting on the kitchen floor. He held your face in his hands for a moment, muttering apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I need… I need to go.”

You grabbed at his wrist when he stood up. “No, Edward wait—”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

You watched as he ran out of the house. You didn’t bother chasing after him, Isle Esme was huge and like your races had proven you weren’t faster than him. That and you were dizzy. The playlist had stopped and the only sound was the ringing timer signaling the food was done. You crawled over to the oven, carefully taking out the pasta bake and sitting on the kitchen floor to eat it.

(Part 19)...

[caswellseyes]

Hiiii! 12 from the autumn prompts for whatever found family group you want?

hi!! tysm for this one, it was so fun to write! i went with sunset curve + willie cause i thought they'd be both cute and chaotic, which is my favourite thing hehe. also i'm very european and don't celebrate thanksgiving so all the dishes etc are based on one google search and one google search only lmao. anyway this is set in some sort of modern day au wherein sunset curve rehearses in bobby’s garage and the molina’s don’t own that house. enjoy!

12. All of us have shitty families so we’re doing Friendsgiving instead

“Bobby, can we make cranberry sauce?”

Bobby turns around, bringing the shopping cart he’s pushing to a halt. Reggie stands in front of him, crouched near a few boxes of cranberries.

They’re in the supermarket, doing some last-minute Thanksgiving shopping. Honestly, Bobby hadn’t planned on celebrating this year - his parents are absent, as usual, so it’s not like he could’ve celebrated with them - but when all three of his best friends mentioned crashing in the garage over the holiday, those plans had changed.

“I don’t know,” Bobby says, frowning. “Are you supposed to make that or buy it in a can or something?”

Reggie shrugs his shoulders, already digging out his phone to look it up. Bobby takes a moment to check his own. He has three more texts from Luke requesting extra dinner rolls - he sends a picture of the two packs in the cart and immediately receives a bunch of exclamation points - and a voice message from Alex.

“Hey, Bobbers,” Alex says when Bobby presses play. “So, uh, I just took the turkey out of the oven to rub the spicy butter stuff on it, which was gross, and it was still kind of cold? But it’s been in there for ages, so I don’t think it should be cold anymore? And then I asked Luke and he said the oven might be broken but it doesn’t look broken so I just put the turkey back in there and turned the temperature up just in case. Don’t worry, I put the fire extinguisher in the kitchen in case anything goes wrong.”

Alex pauses for a second, listening to someone in the room. There’s a muffled conversation before Alex continues the recording.

“Oh, also,” he says, clearly aiming for casual but not quite succeeding, “uh, Willie might be here? If that’s cool? It’s just that they didn’t have plans either cause Caleb is only doing this super fancy adult dinner and that sounds terrible and also boring so Luke and I thought they could join us, but obviously if you and Reg don’t want that then that’s fine too, but. Yeah. I’m gonna check on the turkey again.”

Bobby smiles to himself as the recording ends. He quickly texts Alex back that yes, of course Willie can stay, and that the oven acts up a little sometimes but if the turkey doesn’t turn out, they’ll have plenty of other food. Then, for good measure, he texts Willie to let them know they’re welcome as well.

“I think we make it ourselves,” Reggie says, dropping the package of cranberries in the cart. “We just need some orange juice and sugar.”

Bobby nods and adds the ingredients to the grocery list on his phone.

“So that’s green beans, corn, pumpkin pie, sugar, and orange juice,” he says. He pushes the cart forward again, Reggie keeping pace next to him. “Also, Willie is joining us.”

“Nice,” Reggie says, beaming widely. “I’ve been meaning to talk to them about that raccoon dream I had so they can interpret it for me.”

Bobby mulls that statement over for a second and then decides he doesn’t need to know. Instead, he steers them toward the green beans and leaves Reggie to pick out some good ones while he gets the corn.

They rush through the rest of the list, both eager to get home. Thankfully, both the store and the streets are fairly empty and they make it back to Bobby’s place in no time.

“Hey, Alex,” Bobby says, dropping a heavy bag of groceries in the kitchen. “How’s the turkey?”

Alex groans from the floor. He’s sitting against the kitchen island, legs stretched out and touching the cabinets underneath the oven. He’s glaring at the oven and the turkey in it intensely.

“I’m pretty sure it’s still frozen,” he tells Bobby. “But the mashed potatoes are pretty good.”

“Nice.” Bobby tosses the green beans onto the counter and puts the orange juice in the fridge. “When’s Willie getting here?”

“In a little bit,” Alex says. He pushes himself upright and takes the corn from Bobby. “They said they had something to do first.”

Reggie barges into the kitchen with the rest of the groceries. The dinner rolls - three packs, since they now had an extra person coming - are balanced on top of the bag he’s carrying.

“Hey, ‘Lex, wanna help me make cranberry sauce?”

Alex turns to Bobby and pulls a face. Bobby shrugs. Clearly, they’re on the same end of the cranberry sauce-hating spectrum, but Bobby is fairly sure they’re also both committed to doing whatever their bandmates want to make this a good Thanksgiving, so he’s not at all surprised when Alex turns back to Reggie and helps him unload the groceries, already talking about the kitchen utensils they need.

Bobby sneaks a bite of mashed potatoes and rushes out of the kitchen before Alex can stop him. 

“These are really good,” he yells, already halfway out the door. Alex’s outraged cry follows him all the way to the garage.

“Bobby!” Luke calls out as soon as Bobby walks in. “Awesome, can you toss me those streamers?”

Luke is standing in the loft. Clearly, he’s trying to hang up streamers between the loft and the wall on the other side, but they keep falling down. 

Bobby obediently picks up the streamers and tosses one end to Luke. It falls down the first time, but the second time, Luke catches them. While he fastens them on the loft railing, Bobby climbs on a chair and ties the other end around a little hook in the wall.

He steps back to examine their work and frowns.

“Luke, these say ‘Happy Birthday’.”

Luke bounces up to him. He shrugs.

“Well, you said to decorate the garage, and we don’t really have any Thanksgiving decorations, so I figured I’d just use a bunch of other stuff.”

Bobby looks around. True to his word, Luke had indeed used a whole lot of decorations. There are Valentine's Day balloons everywhere and an Easter tablecloth covers the table they dragged out here. The centrepiece on the table is a plastic Halloween pumpkin filled with confetti and a snowflake curtain from last Christmas hangs in front of the door.

It’s a mess. Bobby loves it.

He tells Luke as much, clapping him on the shoulder. Luke beams with pride.

Together, they make quick work of setting everything else up. They bring plates and cutlery from the house into the garage and set the table, keeping plenty of space free for the dishes. Then, once Alex and Reggie deem the food ready, they carry those in.

By the time Willie skateboards up to the house, clutching a paper bag, the only thing that isn’t done yet is the turkey. All four members of Sunset Curve are leaning over it, examining it as if it’ll magically be cooked.

“I don’t get it,” Alex says for the fortieth time, “I followed all of the instructions, and I put the butter stuff on it so often even though it felt really gross, and it’s still cold.”

“Maybe it’s meant to be cold?” Reggie suggests. “I mean, it always looks cold in the movies. I’ve never had Thanksgiving turkey before.”

Luke reaches out and pokes the turkey. 

“No, I think this is just still a little frozen,” he says.

Bobby sighs. The turkey hadn’t defrosted for nearly as long as it should’ve. They’d all agreed initially that that shouldn’t matter too much, but combined with the shitty oven in Bobby’s kitchen, it had turned out to be a bit of an issue.

“I think we just waited too long to take it out of the freezer,” Bobby says. He nudges Alex’s shoulder. “Good thing we have those amazing mashed potatoes. We won’t even need turkey.”

“Oh, the potatoes,” Reggie says dreamily. “‘Lex, is Willie here yet? I really want to eat the potatoes.”

“I’m here,” Willie’s voice says from the doorway. As one, Sunset Curve turns around to face them. 

Willie waves awkwardly, one hand holding the paper bag.

“Hi,” they say. At Alex’s motion, they move into the kitchen, quickly kissing him before turning towards the turkey.

“That does look a little frozen,” they say. “It’s okay, though. I brought chicken nuggets.”

“You brought what?” Bobby asks, not sure if he heard that properly. When Willie puts the bag down and unpacks two large takeout containers, both filled to the brim with chicken nuggets, it turns out that he did.

“Well, Alex called me about the turkey,” Willie explains, “and that everyone was helping get stuff ready, so. This is my stuff. Oh, and the bottom box has veggie nuggets instead, for Bobby.”

“You brought backup poultry?” Alex asks, a little amazed, “and vegetarian stuff?”

“Yep.” Willie says with a grin.

Luke and Reggie eye each other. Slowly, both of their hands glide towards the nuggets. Bobby slaps both of them away.

“Not till we’re sitting down,” he says sternly. Next to him, Alex has drawn Willie into another kiss.

“Dudes,” Luke says, causing Willie and Alex to break apart, “let’s go eat!”

Together, they file into the garage, placing Willie’s chicken nuggets in the middle of the table.

They sit down, pouring drinks for each other and passing dishes around. Bobby fills his plate with a generous helping of mashed potatoes and a bunch of green beans. The first pack of dinner rolls is already empty, so he breaks into the second before pouring gravy onto his plate.

When he’s ready to eat, he looks around at his friends. Luke’s plate is piled high with dinner rolls and Reggie has half the bowl of cranberry sauce on his. Alex has a little bit of everything, while Willie seems focused on the corn. 

It’s not the lonely evening any of them thought this holiday would be. Instead, they’re all together, enjoying a good dinner with friends.

“Bobby, did you want to say something?” Alex asks. 

Bobby shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just - Happy Friendsgiving, everyone.”

Reggie raises his glass, the others quick to follow suit.

“Happy Friendsgiving,” they chorus, clinking their glasses together.

Yeah, Bobby hadn’t planned on celebrating Thanksgiving this year.

He’s really glad he did, though.

[whaleofatjme1920]

I need some comfort after that Toby fic 😭. Could we get some soft Toby headcannons? Sfw + Nsfw? Only if you're comfortable.

Ticci Toby Soft Headcanons

you absolutely may! If you are a minor, DNI

SFW:

Toby is really tired

Like, really, really tired. He just wants to sleep

How does he combat this?

HE NAPS EVERYWHERE

In the car, on the kitchen floor, in windows, wherever he can.

He is actually a giant cat.

Toby is slightly manic? Like, when he's off the job and not working for his boss, he is so great for those strange, random adventures.

You can ask him to come with you to the store and in that time, the two of you have gotten lunch, went to the mall, found some bubble tea, hung out in an Arby's parking lot, walked into someone's house and are still back in time for you to get your home work done.

He likes to write down in a journal. His journal notes are mostly doodles of things he's seen because the Operator won't let him have a phone, but they're relatively decent.

His thoughts are scattered and he's relatively prone to forgetting, so in his room at whatever temp house he's in or wherever he's spending most of his time, there are tons of sticky notes. Hoodie helped him color code.

Toby and Kate are actually the closest thing to best friends in their team. Granted, Toby likes all three of his group members, but Kate reminds him of Lyra - she's just as protective of him.

Toby is fiercely protective of his group and people he deems important.

Toby is physically affectionate with all of his friends. Hugs, just resting his hand on them, head-butting them like a cat, stuff like that.

Toby likes to sing to himself, very quietly. It helps keep him on track of whatever he's doing.

Toby doesn't actually like tea and he tolerates coffee. He honestly prefers apple juice or cranberry juice over anything else.

Toby also really likes eating meals with other people. He doesn't like being alone more than he has to.

Please have breakfast with him, that's his favorite meal.

No, he does not choose the waffles.

It's usually blueberry pancakes or hash browns and eggs with some sausages.

He likes certain cartoons! Gravity Falls is amongst his favorite.

Toby is a slightly erratic driver. If Masky had to choose any one of his proxies to drive, it's him first and Toby last and as a last resort.

Toby is a surprisingly good listener.

He's weirdly enamored with mushrooms. Knows way too many mushroom facts. Also likes moss as well.

Toby doesn't like sweet candies, however, he does like mint flavored things.

Toby has such a strong love of opossums and raccoons!! He names the ones he sees regularly and keeps track of them as he long as he in the area.

Toby LOVES mythology from all culture and countries. Ask him about it and he'll rattle off the stories his sister used to tell him.

Honestly back on Toby being a physically affectionate friend, please hug him.

NSFW:

I've said it before and I'll say it again now, Toby is a soft dom.

He can absolutely go feral, but mostly, he's a switch and a soft dom when he's topping. He's good at praise and will make you feel like royalty.

I think his dick is just the right fit? Like, not too thick, not too long, just perfect. Not very veiny.

Toby likes getting edges. Honestly, I feel like Toby likes partners who are more dominant than he is.

Has a mommy kink ngl.

Honestly??? Toby loves when you use him.

Sit on his face. Sit on his dick. Use him and he will be so happy.

Also praise him too??

If you're topping, you'll make him a mewling, needy mess just by calling him a good boy.

He calls you babe.

"You look so pretty on my hips like that, babe"

"C'mere, let me see how that honey tastes."

"You are such a good girl/boy"

"Gods, I've never seen such beauty as you."

"Fucking gorgeous."

Just imagine it, you, laying back on the bed, legs spread, face heated and Toby is taking off his shirt in front of you. He smirks before pulling it over his head, and works on getting his jeans off. His hands on either side of you. He's crawling towards you now, hearts beating in sync. His breath is on your lips, eyes boring into yours. "Have I kept you waiting very long?" Tip prodding at your entrance.

I AM-