#again long for the garlic that would have completed this

[scrawnytreedemon]

Brethren I made a bomb-ass pasta dish today. That little hit of lemon I added at the end did so much to wake everything up, holy shit! Adam Ragusea was right <3 It doesn't even taste lemony. This is great.

My only regret is a lack of garlic, as we don't have any in the house since stepdad can't handle garlic-breath, and we're unlikely to get some anytime soon. [<--actual torture for a Slav, no matter how britticised.]

[vvelegrin]

feeling like a Whole Person tonight despite feeling so tired that i could pass away. that's always nice! i don't care for the alternative (feeling so tired that i could pass away coupled with wanting to pass away).

[octoberautumnbox]

A Little Goes a Long Way

fromis_9 Roh Jisun & all the other frommies :DDDD

Categories: fluff, cooking, really light blood but it shouldnt be too big of an issue

Word count: 1.0k

a/n: prompt by @msafterhours!! im actually a dumbass bc i got the prompt completely wrong lmao but here yall go!! oki i hiatus again byeee

It’s something about the manner in which the knife cuts through meat and muscle–something about how things come together in the pot that makes Jisun happy as can be. Home isn’t home, she’d think, when the kitchen hasn’t got windows that rays of sun enter through on warm mornings, or when the cupboards and cabinets aren’t stocked for visiting friends or midnight snacks. There’s a romance, a magic, a unique rightness in a home where one cooks for both body and soul. 

“Good girl,” she muses, finding the beef sitting in a basin of water on the countertop, “can always count on Jiheonnie.” She replaces the now-cool water with a new pool fresh from the tap, before gathering the rest of the ingredients and getting to work. 

Jisun opens door after door of cupboards, taking out each of the rest of the ingredients in turn: green and brown onions, sesame seeds and sesame oil, sugar and salt, garlic and ginger, red and black pepper. Cute, she thought, that each had a partner. 

The sun watches intently from the other side of the window, filling her kitchen with a calming warmth you'd scarcely find anywhere else. The clouds rein in the too-intrusive rays, while specks of pollen merrily dance across the glass pane. With her celestial audience on the edge of their seats, she gets to work. 

“Yeah it's you, yeah it's you,” Jisun hums under her breath. She measures out each portion carefully, transferring them into tiny bowls that matched colors and handles and rims. It must be something in her bones today, how her step is sprightly and her fingers reach and flex with less poignancy than she's used to. 

It isn't long before she thinks back, a green onion steady between the countertop and her left hand while a knife is secure in her right, that she remembers when Jiwon held them wrong and almost cut her finger open. She recalls Hayoung slicing peppers, followed by onions, rubbing her eyes in between every couple of strokes to push away persistent tears that never seemed to run out. She smiles at the memory of Jiheon not knowing solid and liquid measuring cups were different, and the resultant cake falling flatter and growing firmer than their beloved maknae had liked. 

Her lip finds itself between her teeth, thinking “Good thing they have me,” as the once-long stalk of green onion grows shorter and shorter. “What would they do without me?”

And yet, it was nothing compared to the contrary. It waltzes to the front of her mind, amidst draining the thawed beef of its former frost, how Saerom put her arm under her after a particularly rough day of practice. It shone like the sun, as Jisun mixes the paste, how Seoyeon talked her ear off when Jisun had run out of things to say. The rush of fondness fills her chest remembering how Nagyung complained when Jisun saw herself in the mirror and frowned at the reflection, all the while she works the marinade into the meat.

As she places each strip into the smoking wok, Chaeyoung enters her mind, the same way Chaeyoung entered the practice room in the baggiest pants Jisun had ever seen, only to pull out a Melona for them to share with their backs against the CCTVs. The scent and symphony of sizzling meat fills her kitchen with a profound sense of melancholy, remembering walking with Gyuri one morning before the sun rose, just one lap around the building, and yet it so happened that it was enough to share four years’ worth of troubles with each other. 

She tips the wok over a respectfully waiting plate. The meat steams and settles onto the surface, expelling the tensions of the stove and relaxing into a Jisun-like state.  The green onions fall predictably onto the food, meeting nooks and crannies in the meat with attention that welcomes a tongue seeking solace in homemade comfort. A final touch, Jisun thought, to finish the job, to give the palate something to want to come home to the next time it wanders out into the wide, wonderful world: just a drizzling of honey– not too much, certainly not too little. The viscous liquid spreads all over the dish, sending its enticingness to new heights and bringing the delicacy together. 

At last, her meal is nearly complete. Jisun sets it on the dining table, right in the center of the square wooden surface. She admires it for a moment, the hard work of the past half hour lost on the world but not on her, before she clears her throat to finally, fully, completely allow herself to enjoy the fruits of her labor…

“Girls, time to eat!” She then counts silently, one, two, three– frantic footsteps grow louder and louder until Jiwon and Hayoung come crashing into the room. They both shriek, “I want to sit next to Jisun!” It makes her giggle, just as much as seeing Seoyeon and Jiheon holding hands and walking in step towards the table themselves. Nagyung and Chaeyoung follow, still glued to Nagyung's phone as Chaeyoung points to the screen, “That's the guy I was telling you about,” before they take a seat across from her. 

Jisun takes a deep breath, waiting for one more, and it comes in the form of a comforting hand on her shoulder and a pat on her hair. “Thank you, Jisun,” Saerom whispers with nothing but love in her voice. Her leader takes a piece of the meat and makes a show of eating it, and it's almost comical how much she overreacts. “Holy shit, this is delicious–” Saerom mutters, her hand over her mouth. 

Nagyung pipes up, “Thank you, Jisun-unnie,” prompting a slew of variations from each other member at the table, until a cacophony of gratitude fills Jisun's ears. The warmth of their love spreads through her body, filling her with gratitude of her own.

“You're welcome, girls. Eat well,” she says, as she finally takes a piece of meat for her own, giddy in the anticipation of knowing that it'll be one of the most delicious bites of food she'll ever have. 

[half-oz-eddie]

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

[the-badger-mole]

What Being a Zutara Shipper Means for ME!! (not YOU...necessarily)

Where is this idea that Zutara shippers are monolith coming from? I'm soooo bored with people thinking that there's any sort of requirement to shipping this couple. A lot of Zutara shippers ADORE Aang and Mai. I'd go as far as to say most like at least one of them. And that's cool. That's cool...

Hating Aang and Mai is fun, though. They are problematic in different, but oddly similar ways. Picking that apart is a completely valid way to enjoy the fandom. It's not required. No one should have to hate them to enjoy Zutara, but if you do hate them, hate them as loud as you want. They are terrible characters. They have abusive tendencies. Aang, as a character, absolutely perpetuates the Nice Guy myth that as long as you're persistent enough and not a Chan, eventually the girl who's never shown any interest in you will fall for you. Because you're "tH3 r3@L H3r0OOooO!" It doesn't matter that you've violated your crush's consent. Twice. Or that you go on to flirt with anti-miscegenation on a whim and only don't go through with it because it would effect you personally. No biggie!

I know it's a bit harder to hate on Mai. After all, Zuko did have the audacity to talk to her, his girlfriend about his feelings. He was SO out of line for that. How DARE he want support from her? Doesn't he know emotions and human connection are like garlic to emotional vampires like Mai??? Still, hating Mai is fun, so I'll do it anyway. I know it's so quirky, edgy goth of her to threaten him with death if he ever broke up with her again and then go on to not let him know her own father is trying to assassinate him, but I'm not a fan. Sorry 🤷🏾‍♀️

You know what, though? I found my people, as few as we may be. And I did it without telling people how they should or shouldn't feel about any characters. It's a good thing I figured out how tagging and blocking works. 🙃

[legacygirlingreen]

The Nose Knows // Sebastian Sallow x MC

This was a collaboration with @darch7995 ! I had so much fun writing this. It’s your classic amortentia story with a twist!

Warnings: some angst but ends good!

Word count: 4k

Here is a link to her audio: part 1 , part 2

She hadn’t intended to be so late for class, but when Professor Garlic had asked for additional help repotting mandrakes she could hardly say no, as the witch had always been polite as could be. The only issue was she had lost track of time. Barreling through the door to the potions classroom, she cringed as she saw the faces of all her fellow peers turning towards her hasty entrance and the face of Aesop Sharp turn sour at her late arrival.

“How nice of you to join us MC. Perhaps a worthy investment would be a watch as you seem incapable of keeping the time. Detention-“ he started and she begged him.

“Please professor I was helping Professor Garlic and we lost track of time-“ she pleaded and he looked at her, still unsure.

“And if I address this with Professor Garlic she will confirm this as well?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Of course Sir.”

“Fine. But come to the front of the class, identify our lesson today since you are avoiding detention on the grounds you were late.” He told her and she panicked.

Carefully setting down her things and whipping her dirt soaked hands on her skirt she started towards the front of the room. She caught the eyes of some of her classmates. Garreth gave her a reassuring grin and Imelda smirked, always competitive with her. Poppy gave her an apprehensive look, to which she would ponder later and when she finally noticed Sebastian, leaning in with curiosity she decided to give identification of the mystery potion a shot ignoring the looks she received.

Professor Sharp handed her a potion bottle, completely blacked out, not revealing the color of the potion. Color was usually the easier identifier of any potion so she’d had to get creative. Uncorking the bottle she attempted to catch a whiff of any particular ingredients used.

Letting the smells fill her senses she became utterly confused, her face twisting as her eyebrows drew and she once again took a whiff of the potion for confirmation at the overwhelming but unique liquid.

“What the-“ she asked confused as people in the class giggled.

“Relying on all of one’s senses for potion identification is integral, especially with the more volatile and dangerous concoctions. When items have been laced with potions or poisons you will not be able to use color as an identifiable agent, so would you be so kind to elaborate to the class what the potion smells of and perhaps your classmates might be able to help you identify this particular brew” Professor Sharp offered and she once again took a whiff, finally being able to separate the multiple smells to which she encountered.

“That’s the thing professor - none of the things I smell are reminiscent of any potion ingredients I am aware of…” she tried to reason and the man continued.

“Then what do you smell?” He asked her, feigning intrigue while knowing full well what he was asking her to reveal. A small amount of embarrassment often went far in discouraging students from being late to class.

She looked up as some of her classmates gave her an awkward glance and she noticed Natsi’s eyes grow with a small shake of her head telling her not to reveal what it was. Confused, she raised an eyebrow as the professor responded.

“We don’t have all day, perhaps another one of your classmates is more capable...”

“I smell… parchment, like the dusty old books that students have long forgotten in the library. I also smell fire… not any ordinary fire, but the strong Smoky smell you’d attribute to spells like incendio or confringo… and lastly I smell-“ she trailed off realizing exactly what fragrance she had identified, yet she realized it had come from across the table and not the liquid.

It was a fragrance so holistically masculine in nature. She immediately recognized the cedar wood and bergamot undertones, that blended with whatever spices warmed her cheeks whenever she was privy enough to catch a whiff lingering on his skin. Any time they studied together in the undercroft she was easily lightheaded when he’d lean over to see something in her notes and she could indulge in the fragrance he kept from an area she believed was under his ears but she couldn’t be quite sure.

She was reminded of the one time he’d lent her his scarf and she couldn’t stop smelling the green fabric as his cologne had lingered to the knit so intoxicatingly. She could recall the first time she’d ever realized that he’d taken to wearing it - some time at the start of 6th year, he’d approached her and something about the way his warm body, now accentuated by the fragrance warmed her cheeks to the point that he worried she had the chill, led to the back of his hand stroking her cheeks with worry. She assured him everything was okay, but he never quite let it go.

But perhaps she could just smell the fragrance directly, not in the potion, given he was so close to the table. He was directly across from her, staring intently at what she was holding. Without realizing her critical error she calmly told the professor.

“I smell Sebastian’s cologne, but that’s mostly since he’s standing so close to the table and likely went a little heavy handed again with it” she joked and when no one responded for a second she grew confused. Immediately Imelda called out from the back row with a loud laugh.

“Oh this is rich. Our resident troll slayer is in love with Sallow”

Looking down she immediately realized her fatal error, once again wafting the potion and realizing that the smell had in fact come from the bottle, not across the table like she’d thought.

Immediately she felt sick to her stomach, realizing that professor sharp likely had thrown a love potion she was unfamiliar with into her hands as she corked the bottle and handed it back to him.

“I - I don’t know what this is sir… I apologize for being late” she said, voice faltering as she felt a small bit of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye as she looked down to avoid the stares she felt. The room was still whispering and chuckling at her mistake and she refused to meet their eyes.

“Would anyone else like to inform our late classmate what potion she has neglected to identify?” He asked, completely uncaring of her embarrassment as she quickly worked around the table, finding Poppy by identifying her muddy shoes and slightly frayed gray and yellow plaid skirt. Still refusing to look up she heard Amit confirm her fears as he awkwardly explained.

“Amortentia. The love potions. Often identifiable by its fragrance or pearlescent appearance.” He said, hoping to leave it at that but Professor Sharp seemingly had it in for her today as he pressed the ravenclaw for more information.

“And what of it’s fragrance Mr Takar? Explain your classmates' findings?” He asked

“Well um… it smells different to every person based on what or who is attractive to them… MC smelt books, fire and… cologne… since that is what she is attracted to, " Amit said and she didn’t have to look up to know the boy was grimacing while explaining the results to the class.

She felt a hand on hers as Poppy leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry MC… I can talk to Professor Garlic since she’s the head of my house if you’d like… explain the situation since you were only late to help her "Poppy offered quickly and she shook her head, looking up at the hufflepuff just as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

“The damage is already done, Poppy. Let’s just focus on the lesson.” She said, brushing the tear off before it fell too far, turning back to the front and putting on the best brave face she could muster, hoping her tone would be enough to sully her friends worry over what had happened.

At the conclusion of the lesson, she bolted as fast as she could from the classroom, ignoring the many concerned people calling after her and pressing on faster as she heard continued laughter from Imelda Reyes and Samantha Dale.

Quickly turning the corner she bolted through the library annex, rushing off towards the greenhouses and taking a sharp left. She could hear someone following her and she would recognize those footsteps anywhere.

“MC wait!” Sebastian called out behind her.

Panicking she saw the familiar owl statue and in a hasty decision she dove for it, turning the wall as she slipped behind the secret alcove just in time. Resting carefully on the other side in relief she heard the footsteps falter just outside in the hallway.

“Sebastian, slow down” Ominis said as she held her breath hoping Sebastian hadn’t seen the wall shifting but his frustrated sigh let her know he had not a clue where she slipped away too.

“She’s gone.” Sebastian said and she could tell by his tone he was concerned.

“I’m sure that she will be alright… she’s just embarrassed… give her some time to collect herself” Ominis explained and something about the phrasing easily agitated Sebastian

“Oh yes because being associated with me is embarassing Ominis, wonderful vote of confidence” Sebastian responded.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I hardly think she’s embarrassed of you, just embarrassed at how that information, the kind of things people like to remain personal, was just ousted to the classroom like that.” Ominis tried to be the calm and level head they needed, to which she was grateful. As she sunk to the floor she decided to continue to listen.

“Stupid, foul, git Professor Sharp. I always hated that man you know” Sebastian said and Ominis chuckled.

“I’m not sure you should be cursing the man when he accidentally revealed the information you’ve been dying to know for such a long time” Ominis explained.

Information Sebastian wanted to know?

“Not like that. Did you see the way she absolutely crumbled after she realized her mistake?” Sebastian asked

“Shockingly enough Sebastian I can’t say I did see the ordeal” Ominis responded with a chuckle, referring to his inability to see in an attempt to alleviate some of the stress.

“I’m fairly certain I saw her crying next to Poppy in the corner Ominis… wait perhaps Poppy knows where she ran off too, let’s go see if she knows anything” Sebastian explained and she could hear his footsteps moving away from the alcove.

“Sebastian, it may just be best to let her come to you when she’s ready…” Ominis said and that was the last thing she heard before their voices got too far from the door for her to hear.

————————————————

Luckily the ordeal had occurred during her last class on friday, giving her the entire week to hide from everyone. Using the time to explore the highlands, and the frustration to crush another one of Imelda’s flying records - or perhaps that was more out of spite for the slytherin girl’s less than tactful response in class - she spent very little time at the castle. Only slinking back in right before curfew and refusing to speak to any of her dorm mates.

When Monday morning reared it’s ugly head, she slunk down to the kitchens, avoiding the great hall entirely and finding Feenky the house elf who was kind enough to slip her some breakfast before she waited until the absolute last second before strolling into the back of class. Quickly slipping out at the conclusion of each lesson, ignoring those speaking to her, she wandered the school like a ghost.

She had maintained that the whole week and Friday eventually rolled around, having been a full week since everything had occurred.

In every class she could feel him staring but she refused to look in his direction. She just wasn’t ready to face him yet or hear his rejection. She knew that despite how embarrassed she was, he likely felt worse knowing he shared common rooms with Imelda and she could hear their classmates frequently teasing him about it, along with his threat of “knock it off”.

Eventually she came to realize that at some point she would need to face the boy again and that continuing to prolong this endeavor would only make it worse, yet she worried over how to acknowledge what had happened. Could she pretend it never occurred? Would he want an explanation? Would his rejection be kind? And what had Ominis meant by the words he’d spoken in the hall?

Sighing, she stood from her desk at the conclusion of Professor Hecat’s class, traversing the length of the room and seeing Sebastian with his back turned to her, in some form of a heated argument between himself and Imelda.

Summoning some of that gryffindor bravery Natty was so well known for, she tapped him on the shoulder, cowering beneath his tall frame as he turned around to face her. Surprised to see her he let out a gasp as she avoided his eyes.

“MC…” he said

“Might we have a word” she said glancing down below them before finally meeting his eye after signaling the undercroft below their feet. “In private,” she added.

“Of course” he told her, immediately abandoning the heated discussion between himself and his housemates. She watched as Ominis scolded Imelda before reaching for Sebastian’s discarded things as she left with Sebastian in tow.

Once outside the classroom she could feel all eyes on them in the hallway and tried her best to put on a brave face and ignore it. Attempting to lighten the situation she said, “wow I feel like I’ve had more attention and eyes on me in the last few days than I did after the battle under the school” and he chuckled.

“Leave it to teenagers to be more interested in crushes than mortal danger or goblin rebellions. The way even you fall asleep in Professor Binns’s class should tell you people care more about the personal lives of their peers than the historic moments” he countered and she knew he was right.

“I suppose you’re right.” She said as they rounded the bottom of the stairs and made sure no one was watching before slipping into the underCroft in silence.

“I just-“

“About what-“

They both started at the same time and both paused.

“You first” he insisted and she shook her head.

“I believe I’ve spoken enough, you should say what you were going to” she argued and he silently nodded.

“I’m sorry about what happened in class. It was really foul what Professor Sharp did. He didn’t need to embarrass you like that… I’m sure it wasn’t fun having your um… feelings exposed like that when you were only trying to make a joke…” he said gently, trying to convey he truly felt for her. After he found Poppy, the Hufflepuff and Ominis were able to convince him, against his very obsessive and compulsive nature, to allow her some time to settle her emotions. As difficult as it had been for him all weekend not seeing her and worried about how upset she might be, he did his best to avoid everywhere she often went - the undercroft, hogsmeade, the library and the astronomy tower - just out of respect for her hurt feelings.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you either” she said with a sigh

“Why would I be embarrassed?” He asked her confused

“Because I - you were there.” She didn’t want to have to voice it again.

“I know. But why would what happen embarrass me? If anything a small part of me is thankful that I know I just…” he trailed off and she waited for the rejection to come.

She sucked in a breath as she closed her eyes waiting for him to just rip the bandage off. She could take it. And she mentally had prepared for it in the whole week she’d spend avoiding him.

Instead she felt him grab her hand gently, his own shaking slightly as she opened her eyes in confusion. In his other hand she saw a small vile.

“I uh, didn’t think it was fair that you were the only one who had to explain what amortentia smells like to you…” he said holding up the pink shimmering potion.

“So you brewed more of that vulgar concoction that caused this whole mess?” She asked teasingly despite the lump in her throat.

“Can you give that a whiff?” He asked her gently, passing it off and she sighed and nodded, uncorking it and having the familiar smell of fire, books and cologne overtake her senses once more.

“Smells like amortentia. 10 points to slytherin.” She confirmed with an awkward laugh as she handed him back the vial.

“Perfect.” He said with a small grin, taking it back from her before removing the topper and taking a whiff of it himself.

“Mallowsweet” he told her.

“What?”

He gestured to the small pocket on her belt that he knew always contained the small herb, it’s unique fragrance always clinging to her and apparent when she stood close by.

“Mallowsweet. You always have some on you, in that pouch for those Merlin trials you showed me during our fifth year.”

“What about it?” She asked confused and he lifted the amortentia vial again, taking a whiff as his eyes fluttered shut and he replied with a spell bound tone.

“I smell it in amortentia”

She gasped realizing he was explaining what the potion smelled like to him.

“Sebastian you don’t have to-“

“Heathers. Like the ones growing in your vivarium where you keep the Phoenix. You smell like them and I know they are your favorite flower. I know to most they are just weeds but you always pick them to put in your books or pockets and it’s just so endearing to see how much you adore something that to everyone else is worthless but you think they are pretty. I love laying in the grass with you and getting to read outside even when it’s the winter because it’s always warm in the room of requirement and you look so pretty just laying amongst the Heather with a book in hand.”

She didn’t reply as he went on. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist and lifting it to his face, placing the delicate ball of his nose against the inside of wrist and inhaling with a sigh.

“And that perfume you bought in Hogsmeade with Poppy during our 6th year. Merlin I remember when you borrowed my scarf, and the day I got it back I couldn’t help but smell your perfume lingering on it for weeks. Any time you adjust your hair or you lean in to whisper something in class I just can’t help but notice it”

“Sebastian…” she whispered as he let go of her wrist and opened his eyes.

“All I smell in amortentia is you.” He confirmed and she looked at him as her eyes softened.

“You do read a lot in front of fireplaces” she told him with a quiet sigh.

“I also forgot to put on my cologne that morning,” he admitted as she gasp.

“What?”

“I was running late and I forgot to put it on that morning. I wasn’t even wearing it the day we had potions. In fact right when you burst in the door Ominis was telling me how much I needed to bathe since I got sweaty at crossed wands and the lack of cologne didn’t help.” Sebastian admitted to her with a chuckle.

“I - well that’s something… she faltered, realizing he truly did have confirmation the whole time she had feelings for him.

“Let me take you to hogsmeade sometime. A proper date?” He offered.

“You don’t have to do that. Proper first dates are for people who don’t really know one another… I feel we already know so much about each other…” she said softly as he nodded, tracing the side of his finger down her arm before he reached her hand where he laced their fingers together.

“Fair enough, but I wouldn’t feel right just kissing you without at the very least being a gentleman first”

“Sebastian Sallow, you want to kiss me?” She teased him as she chuckled

“I think asking you out on a proper date, which you seem to have rejected might I add, as well as admitting to smelling you in the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind would confirm that yes I do indeed want to kiss you” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, however his reddened cheeks gave away his nervousness.

Leaning up on her tiptoes and she gently pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek before pulling away, smiling at his nervous and shocked expression.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me we can go on to hogsmeade on a date. Then you can kiss me” she teased.

“Wait no, I take it back, come on I think we know each other well enough for a little kissing, don’t you” he asked desperately trying to pull her back against him as she ducked under his arm with a laugh.

“No you’re right Sebastian… it just wouldn’t be proper for you to kiss me without being a gentleman first “ she quoted him running off behind one of the large posts in the undercroft before casting disillusionment.

“Not fair MC” he groaned as she snickered, sneaking up behind him. Right when she thought she had him he turned around, grabbing her and in the panic the spell was dropped.

“No more hiding from me MC. This last week has been torture” he admitted and she smiled

“But it’s so fun” she replied and he rolled his eyes at her, holding her closer to him.

“Hmm I suppose I could be persuaded….” She told him.

“How so?” He asked

“Kiss me.” She demanded and he didn’t reply, instead lowering his lips to her own as they kissed. His soft lips claimed her own with a mix of gentleness and firmness that left her feeling warm. The scratch of his recently shaved stubble lightly grazing her upper lip as they carefully moved their mouths together.

Breaking away she giggled.

“What is it now?” He asked feigning annoyance as he tried to lean in once again with a small grin on his face.

“I am going to need to borrow your scarves on occasion you know? I meant it when I said that your cologne is quite intoxicating..” she purred while leaning into his neck.

“Only if they come back smelling like you” he offered in rebuttal.

“I think that can be arranged,” she said once again, connecting their lips as the rest of the world melted away in the dim light of the undercroft.

[werecreature-addicted]

Would the sparkling vampires have been reacted to differently if written by a better author? Possibly

I feel like the main reason (imo) for why the sparkling is hated on so much though is that the reveal of it just feels so ridiculous. Like edward claiming he’s a monster or whatever and then proceeds to reveal his shimmery 6 pack is….unconvincing at best

og tags on this post for anyone who hasn't seen it

Excellent question anon. If you think about it there are a lot of silly things we associate with vampires.

Exhibit A: the classic widow's peak black hair and dramatic cape

look at it with fresh eyes and imagine seeing this for the first time, goofy. silly even. but this style of vampire was iconized by Bella Ligosi's performance as Dracula in Dracula 1931 which is of course very good and a staple in vampire cannon as well as just culture in general. It's good and it's old which lends it an air of authority. whereas Twilight is new(ish) and bad so it's artistic changes and creative choices are fighting an uphill battle already, add in the fact that Vampires Sparkling is a little ridiculous and you can see why so many people dismiss Twilight's vampires outright.

This post is so long continued under the cut

Now I am a Twilight fan and I think Twilight is very bad in a lot of ways, the two ideas are not mutually exclusive. Twilight however is a fascinating case study in cultural knowledge and mythos. Stephanie Meyer informally did very little research about Vampire Cannon, if you can call it that, before writing Twilight (link to an interview where she mentions it) so instead of being carefully constructed world-building based on hard rules and strict internal logic, the vampires are kind of loosely defined shadows based on the broadest understanding of what a vampire is. They're dead, they drink blood, they don't go out in sunlight. Some other popular vampire staples go addressed but dismissed as myth (garlic and having no reflection) but then things like The vampires in Twilight don't have fangs and have weird additional supper powers sometimes go just completely taken for granted and not really expanded upon in a satisfying way.

This style of world-building and magic system has a tendency to chafe against readers who have a more in-depth context for vampires and Meyre's more simplistic writing style makes the text come off as juvenile and perhaps a little dumb.

All this to say the sparkling vampires are not handled super well. It is a very large jump from what most readers would expect to see from a vampire story and it is handled inconsistently at best in the text itself. Meyer describes the vampires in the sun both as A beautiful glittering like that of a diamond, and a reflection of light so intense that it looks like the vampire is being burned alive in the sun.

these two conflicting descriptions coupled with the again simplistic and juvenile writing style makes it seem more like a mistake you should roll your eyes at rather than an intentional complexity to read into. I'd argue that Bella sees this inhumanity as beautiful and alluring while Edward sees it as a curse and a reminder of his monstrous nature and therefore disgusting. That being said I don't fault anyone for not wanting to read that deeply into the vampire glittering and instead see it as the author trying to have her cake and eat it too, something Meyers does frequently throughout even just the first Twilight novel.

Not even to mention the movies.

Exhibit B: this is the skin of a killer Bella.

This is prima facie hilarious and stupid. the juxtaposition of the soft glittering effect and the chiming sound in this scene coupled with the seemingly unwarranted disgust is so fucking funny. which is not the tone this scene is going for. it's supposed to be tense, it comes off as corny instead.

Then there is the hate mob that dominated Twilight discourse when it first came out. I will not get into how much of that hate was warranted, what I'm interested in is how much of a cultural impact it had. There was, at least in the beginning, a large group of people who hated Twilight and would hate anything that came from it simply because it came from Twilight. These people grabbed onto the sparkly vampire thing and made it what it is today, these people were never going to be won over by any artistic liberty no matter what.

So to answer your question, I think that if a writer with a more in-depth understanding of vampires and a clearer vision of the magic system wrote Twilight with a more mature tone and more time given to expanding on just the vampire's powers and limitations, and the movies followed these hypothetical books more closely AND if there was never an anti-Twilight coultral movement. then yeah maybe Vampires sparkling wouldn't be seen as the dumbest shit ever.

thank you for coming to my Twilight Ted talk.

[dotster001]

Asmo and the Pillars of Asexuality; Garlic Bread

Summary: Asmo x gn! Asexual reader. In which you really like garlic bread. And Asmo is Asmo about it.

A/N: the reader in this fic is actually me. I would also consume a loaf of garlic bread by myself while I laid in bed at 3am. (I say would....but I have done this exact thing)

CW: gets serious for a moment, hitting the hard hitting ace issues, but then it goes back to silly

Unofficial First Chapter

You had once told Asmo that a pillar of asexuality was garlic bread.

He could do without the crumbs in his bed.

He glared at you as you sat next to him, munching on an entire loaf of garlic bread. 

If he was being more honest, he was really upset that he was in a pink set of pajamas that looked absolutely stunning on him, and you were paying more attention to a loaf of garlic bread than to him.

He wiped off the crumbs with large exaggerated motion, and continued his glare.

You finally looked at him, and he perked up, until you asked,

"Sorry Asmo. Did you want some?"

His glare picked up again, and he crossed his arms in a childish pout. Still, he took the loaf and tore off a piece for himself, angrily munching on it.

A crumb fell on his shirt, and he threw the piece of bread across the room.

"Hey!" You shouted. "If you didn't want it you could have just said so!"

Asmo flopped backwards in lament. "The hotties who used to be in my bed were here for me. Now the hottie that's in my bed cares more about garlic bread than how smashing I look!"

You furrowed your brow. "If you wanted my attention, you could have just asked for it."

"I wouldn't have asked for cuddles if I didn't want attention!" He flopped on his side, facing away from you. He heard you sigh, and wipe your hands on the baggy tee shirt you called a pajama shirt (despite him having bought several matching sets of pajamas that were quite stylish). Then you also flopped on your side, wrapping your arms around him.

"Your pajamas look very pretty," you hummed.

He huffed, but said, "Go on."

"And you put my favorite blankets on the bed. That was super thoughtful of you."

"Uh huh. And?"

"And…uh…your nails look really good today. I'm running out of things to say, are you feeling better yet?"

He gave a long suffering sigh, as he curled in against you.

"It's a start."

You rested like that for a while, and he was starting to drift off, your scent comforting him far more than anything ever had in his life.

Eventually, you broke the sleepy silence.

"Hey Asmo?"

"Hmm?" He hummed not wanting to ruin the moment with needless words.

"Do you ever…do you ever want more out of our relationship?"

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, your gaze elsewhere as you chewed your lip nervously.

"Our relationship is built on trust, so I won't lie to you. Sometimes, yes, I would like to express my feelings for you…differently."

You but your lip slightly harder, and he reached out to stroke your check. 

"But it's more often that I'm content with how we are. It's nice to be able to do things like take a bath or cuddle without me having to always be dtf. And your presence is much less draining than people who are expecting things from me that I don't always want to give."

"It's just, you were talking about hotties who used to pay attention to you and-"

"Y/N, sweetie, you should know by now I'll say anything to get attention when I feel like someone or something is stealing the spotlight."

"What the fuck was stealing the spotlight? It's just us!"

"The stupid garlic bread!"

You stared at him, completely perplexed.

"What the fuck-"

"You stopped paying attention to me for so long, I was about to die! Is that what you want? My beauty to waste away under a mountain of bread crumbs because you weren't paying attention to me?"

You stared at him, all of your previous doubts forgotten as you remembered exactly who your chosen boyfriend was.

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have died-"

"You don't know that!"

[Transcript ends here, as the conversation continued for hours, with no one winning]

[4fifiandtheflowertots4]

The House of the Dutch

PART 2

You'd already decided you were going to like it here, but having your suspicions confirmed made you smile. Your bedroom walls had been painted, new furniture had been delivered (You're still waiting for a chair in the living room) and you found solace after a long day in the girls you were quickly becoming close with. Your favourite part of day was getting home from training and helping to make dinner. You alternated who decided and who ran the kitchen, Kerstin becoming your sou-chef as Dominique kept her ban against her and the kitchen. 

Tonight, however, was different. Downstairs Domi and Viv and Jill (and Kerstin had probably managed to weasel her way into helping) were cooking and you were stuck in your room. After receiving an angry message from your university complaining that you hadn't attended a lecture in too long, you took the night to force yourself to stare at the screen and listen. You were hoping the strong smell of the paint might take the edge off a bit, sure that you'd read online that paint had enough chemicals in to ‘relax the muscles’.

You laugh to yourself at the thought before trying to refocus your attention on where the lousy professor was wittering on about something or other. It's only when your name is called that you really start to focus. Half the people had already left and you assumed it was the end of the lecture. “You're 4 pieces behind.” He says to you, and you frown. “No I'm not. I keep up with my work. If I had an assignment set I would have been notified and completed within the next couple of days. I haven't had a notification in weeks. I assumed you had been doing other stuff instead.”

“If you ever joined the lectures you would know.” He states, very matter-of-factly. “And this doesn't change the fact that you're 4 assignments behind.”  You frown. You can't remember seeing a notification indicating that any work had been set and you've never missed an essay before. You try to think back and- Oh. That very annoying beep that interrupted you're Mario Kart the other week. “I'm sorry. They'll be done within the next two weeks, promise.”

“You know the rules. If you're more than 6 assignments behind I have the right to kick you off the course, Miss.” You rub your hands up and down your face. 

“Of course. I'm sorry again.” Your professor leaves the call and you slump down into the chair. You definitely didn't need this now.

You were getting started by City, scoring goals most games and assisting on the others. You groan, leaning back so far you almost tumble off the chair. It's then that a knock echoes around the room and you twist your head to see who it is. You wait for them to come in, slowly realising they're waiting for permission. That rules out Kerstin. “Come in!” You call and Viv peaks her head around the door. “Hey. Dinners ready, if you're ready.” She says, then hurrying out: “If you're not, we can leave it in the oven to stay warm and we'll wait to eat it with you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at the thoughtfulness from the girl. “No, it's alright. I'm finished on the call.” She nods and turns back out of the door. You shut down your laptop and follow her down the stairs, your blood still curdling as you try and consider a time you might have to do 2, 5000 word, essays and 2 projects Kerstin cheers when you appear, patting the chair next to her. Jill walks in with the dish of the day and sits at the head of the table, Domi opposite Kerstin and Viv opposite you. 

As much as the food looks delicious (A traditional Dutch soup and garlic bread) you poke it about, your appetite gone since earlier.

Jill looks at you questioningly. “Do you not like it?” She tries to disguise the slight waver in her voice. 

“Oh! It's lovely, it's really nice.. I just.. am not hungry.” You say, smiling at her and kicking her gently under the table so she knows you mean it. You were going to withhold your troubles as to not worry the others, but they already knew your academic ability (or lack of). “I have a bunch of work to do for my uni and not much time to do it. I'm really far behind and my professor is threatening to kick me off the course. I can't cope with it.”

 “How much work?” Dominique asks from across the table.

“2 5000 word essays and 2 pieces of artwork - 1 of those has to be an animation.” You huff, and push the soup over to Kerstin who has been eying it up since you said you weren't hungry.

“I'm really sorry. I might have to sacrifice all our evenings for the next couple of weeks to get it finished. Starting now.” You get up from your seat, ignoring the sad smile from Viv to prevent the guilt from getting to you. You climb back up the stairs and return to your work area where your laptop waits. Staring at the screen, you try to decide what's best to do first. The animation will take ages. The essays are so boring. You have no inspiration to do the art. You slump at your desk again. 

After about 30 minutes of deliberation, you start on the piece of art, the most overdue of them all. The assignment aim was to create a portrait in an animation form, recognisable to a popular animated show. Instantly, you were stumped.  Time for some procrastination.

You pull out your phone and begin to scroll through Instagram, a couple of racist jokes, a grwm and a prank doing nothing but boring you further. Then there's one of those videos that everyone sees. “First 5 images on your phone define you as a person” nothing could be more boring than this. You open your camera roll. The first picture was one of your best friend, your mum and your dog, sent to you the other day with an ‘I miss u’ message at the bottom. That makes you smile. The next from last Friday, when you went for coffee with Jill at this new place you'd found. It was meant to just be your drink, to put on your story but behind she had snuck in and photo bombed your ideal Instagram shot. She had her tongue stuck out to the side, her eyes criss-crossed and eyebrows bent. Despite her funny face you still find yourself admiring her beauty. You curse yourself. The image after was not a photo, but a video holding a pristine picture of Kerstin dancing with Kiwi in her arms to the circle of life, from Lion King. Viv is laughing in the background, and Myle the dog is barking at the scene. You laugh along with the scene, Kerstin relishing being the centre of attention. She's smiling and its completely magnetic.The next is a photo of Viv wrapped in her city coat, slightly shivering after being taken off at the 60th minute mark. She's curled around you for warmth and you're laughing slightly. Her nose is red at the tip, her cheeks a similar colour. Even now, however many days in the future you feel the need to put your hands on her cheeks to warm her up. The fifth photo is one of Dominique wearing her specialised oven gloves, 'chef Domi' written across the front (apparently a birthday present from last year, you suppose from Kerstin) she has one of her hands pressed against Jill's front, pinning her against the fridge. The other is pointing best she can with the big mittens on her fingers. You remember the moment perfectly, Jill skipping in after a bit of media work she had to do, smelling the cookies you and Domi had just whisked up and instantly trying to pinch some. Having gotten past the first line of defence, you, she managed to get round Dominique when she had her back turn. Just as she'd spun her finger around the bowl, collecting some of the batter, Domi had turned and pushed her against the wall. Despite still being in fits of giggles from where you'd been tickled to the ground, you'd managed to nab a picture, luckily for Jill, just before she'd turned an embarrassingly obvious red. Clearly, you weren't the only one who found the whole ordeal hot.

Still smiling down at your phone, the inspiration seemed to circle the pen you used to draw on your iPad. You started by drawing a bright red 'animated' sofa, then beginning to create a quick sketch of a yellow version of yourself. You're sat right in the middle, then there's a dog by your feet, a perfect creation of your own little pup. To your left, your mama and each feature that makes her special, especially her butterfly tattoo. To your right, your best friend from home, holding a coffee and doing a peace sign with her free hand. Now you were stuck. You knew what you wanted to do but the positioning you were going to find very hard. Deciding who goes where while still maintaining symmetry was turning out to be a real challenge, especially when your stupid overthinking head is considering each placement a ranking of who was your favourite. A long with the fact that the positioning of each person decided how close you were with each of them, not wanting to confuse anybody for the extent of your relationship with any of them (even though you wished you had that extent with someone). For the however manyth time that day, you huffed. You grab your iPad and unplug it, the days activities taking its toll but you force yourself to continue the work. You crawl into your bed and stick your earphones in, blocking the world and it's issues out. You begin to draw again and the initial sketches of your four girls begin to paint themselves across the screen. Seeing them all in yellow makes you smile, allowing for some imperfections and missed features - especially for your first draft.

Your so far into your own world you don't hear your door open, or footsteps lead towards your bed. It'd only when a weight falls at your feet that you look up, seeing Viv sat at the foot of the bed. You quickly pull your earphone out.

"Hey, Love. How's the work going?" You blush at the affectionate pet name despite knowing the innocent intentions. "I brought food!" She waves the chocolate bar in front of her own face, making you smile.

"I've done the first draft of my drawing. It's all in 'The Simpsons' style." You grin at the thought of the 7 yellow people drawn onto your canvas. "I would say it's going well, but it shouldn't have taken 4 hours to draw a first draft."

"Can I see it?" Viv asks, and you pat the bit of mattress next to you. She scoots up and you bring up your latest drawing while ahe cracks open the chocolate. She stifles a laugh when she gets a look at it, but you can tell it's not in judgement. She points at Kerstin first and that makes you laugh with her. "She is never living this down-" she manages between her laughs and you're both keeling over again. You fall into Viv breathlessly, your head on her lap as she tried to control the laughter. Her hand, however, was already combing through your hair gently. Eventually, the giggles turn into breathy intakes of air, her heart rate returning to normal. "You know it's quite late, right?" She says from above you, her hand never faltering on its movement. She hands you 3 squares of chocolate and you take it, quickly realising how hungry you'd got and having a bite. Then you roll to look at her and instantly admire the way the peeking moon manages to catch her eyes.

"Yeah. I'm alright - just going to have to push a bit harder tomorrow." You try to give her your most reassuring smile.

"Don't work yourself too hard. In fact, I think it's time for bed for you." Viv pulls your iPad from your hands, laying it on the bedside table, moving the chocolate with it. "Do you want me to stay with you for a bit, while you fall asleep?"

Cursing the blush on your cheeks, you grin at her and nod. She manages to haul you off her lap and onto the pillow next to her legs. She (unfortunately for you) stays sitting up and picks up a book that she'd left on the end of your bed upon entrance. Her hand returns to your hair, though, and through each twist and pull you can sense each emotion the book it providing her and you wish it always this easy to read the girl. With that, you feel your eyelids dropping, and with one last look at Viv, fall fast asleep.

When you wake, it's because of another Myle vs Kiwi battle, taking place just outside your door. By the sounds of it, nobody is going to fix it so you pull back the covers and crawl shove your feet into the slippers waiting. At the lack of a second presence, you assume Viv managed to slip away when you fell asleep - now asleep in her own room and ignoring the raucus caused by her puppy. You open the door to your bedroom, picking up the first animal you can (Kiwi) and give a pat to Myle, throwing her toy downstairs for her. You smuggle your new friend back into the warmth you'd created, checking the time on your alarm and pulling out your iPad for the extra couple of hours you have at waking early. For sustenance, you break another square of chocolate off and begin to change a couple of things you'd done in your tired state last night - making sure your depiction of Kerstin was a little kinder.

With Kiwi sat on your lap, you crack on with the drawing, allowing the sun to rise and peek through the curtains left slightly ajar in your haste to shut them. You manage to get more time drawing than you expected, only being disturbed by a sleepy looking Kerstin in skippers and pajamas. "Hey have you seen- Kiwi!" She spots the cat and runs over and launches herself towards the cat - towards you - onto your lap. She begins to mutter to the cat something incoherent, stroking her under the chin.

Then Kerstin looks up at you and smiles sheepishly, a warm blush on her cheeks. "Sorry. I couldn't find her, normally she's scratching on my door for cuddles."

"Yeah, no, that's fine." You try to get over the unfortunate positioning of the long muscular limbs of the other Dutch girl. "Her and Myle were squabbling again. Kiwi was the first I got to. I'm sorry."

You realise Kerstin is paying no attention to you when she reaches up and pokes your cheek. She starts to grin. "This lighting is rather flattering of your features, dare I say?"

Raising your eyebrows at her, you catch her finger as it goes for another prod. "Are you suggesting I don't look flattering in other lights, Casparij?" She must have given herself whiplash with the extent of her head shaking.

"No! No, I mean, every light you look stunning - you always stun me atleast. Anyway. Work? You've been working. Can I see it? Art? Yes?" Her measly attempt at a change of conversation humours you, and you bring up your iPad, putting in the pin. When you brought out the device you expected her to shuffle up next to you, instead she chooses to make herself more comfortable on your lap so you have to adjust the screen so she can see it. Since Viv's last look, you'd drawn in a patchwork bunny, a football bouncing across the floor and a pair of oven gloves with the initials DJ laying on the arm of the sofa. You considered it finish, deciding to animate this drawing for your second art piece and use the characters already created in this made up world. You tell her your plan and she nods excitedly. "Can I be playing football, then tumble, and I end up on the floor in one of those 'paint me like one of your French girls' position? And then Viv can walk in with a canvas and start to paint me like the Mona Lisa and Dominique can stick her head around the door with an.." she pauses for breath. "APPLE PIE! Yes, an apple pie in her hands then Jill walks in with lipstick on her cheek, because you know, have you seen all the rumours about a new secret girlfriend?" You ignore the pang in your chest as she continues to ramble. "And she picks up my discarded football and begins to do keepy-uppies in the background all the while you, your mum and your best friend are just sat completely still with a butterfly floating around your head because I love butterflies. They remind me of you. They're beautiful like you, I think that's where I see the resemblance anyway. And your very graceful. I love watching you play football, you dance across the pitch. Should have been a ballerina." A big inhale for breath. "Actually no I take it back because then you never would have met me or maybe you would have done because it's fate." She sings out the last word and shakes about a bit despite her compromising position on your lap.

"Do you believe in fate, Kerstin?" You ask, tilting your head to the side to avoid the sun shining into your eyes. "And- how do you have so much energy for this time in the morning?"

"I always have energy if it means conversing with you, Darling. And fate? I think we'll never know."

You'd thought you'd found some peace, when the room goes quiet - par Kiwi purring ever so often. However it's clear Kerstin gets bored easily, rolling over and reaching up to get her hands on your thighs. You look down at her to ask her what she's doing, but before the words can leave your mouth she tugs and you go down into the depths of duvet and mattress.

Eventually, you resurface, and she's waiting for you having shuffling herself up the bed (still laying down) and stealing your previous position. "There. Now I can see your eyes properly." She looks really pleased with herself and you roll your eyes, biting down a sarcastic response when she sends you a soft smile. "Any plans for today?" Kerstin asks you. "Other than working?" She cuts in before you can speak, seeing the way you open your mouth.

"Then no. I hope to sit in bed and rot while trying to find some inspiration for a however many word essay that won't write itself." You huff again. "What about you guys?"

"Viv's going for a physio appointment about her knee, Dominique's going to visit somebody or other. Jill's meant to be babysitting her niece and I am going out with Mary." She ticks them all off her fingers before looking back at you.

"So it's just me rotting today then?" She nods and you both lay there staring at one another. Then a hand reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "You really are beautiful in this light." The hand from by the side of your head comes to your hip and pulls you towards her just a little bit. "Can I have a hug?" She's not smiling and joking anymore, her face is straight and her shoulders look sagged. You make the decision to wiggle forward - half for her, half to satisfy the urge to cuddle close you've had since she played you both down. When you start to move, her hand on your hip begins to tug you along too until your head is tucked neatly under her chin. The arm on your midsection tightens and you wrap yours around her lower back. You stay like this for just enough time for the smell of yesterday's perfume to drift around your head. Then she pulls back and you start to wonder what an earth is going on inside her head.

"..are you okay?" You ask her and she nods. Her tongue peaks out and subtly licks her lips and her eyes dash around your face, eyes, nose, blushed cheeks, freckles, forehead and mouth. They rest on your mouth. They're bright with want, sparkling as they continue to stare. Then her face falls and she pulls away entirely. Her whole body just falls from yours like it was a cliff, not a whole queen sized bed but instead of falling she's stood, still staring at you.

"I'm really sorry. I was..was going to, you know, kiss you or something like that. But.." she goes quiet and you have to just wait as she chews over her next words. "Jill. She really likes you. Told me the other day - actually she told all of us and for some reason I took that as 'hey let's make a move' and that makes me a shit person so.. I'm going to leave now. And I would like you not to tell Jill. Or anyone. Because I think Domi likes you too. Not that she'd ever say. Infact.. so does Viv. She chooses what to cook based on what your fancying and even if you say you don't tell her, you wake up every morning and as your making yourself breakfast you say what your fancying for tea under your breath and I can tell it's only meant for yourself to hear but Viv's always up at the same time and she can hear it too." Yet again, she's rambling and you can't do anything but watch as she exposes her friends secrets.

By the time you have a chance to get a word in, she's gone, Kiwi trailing behind.

There isn't much you can do now. Other than sit. Ponder. Consider. Mostly, however, you're wondering how an earth you managed to make 4 very pretty Dutch women like you. You also think about your next move, surely there's a decision you have to make.

You shake that thought of your head, that action instantly becoming easier when theres a muffled scream from room next door, something that sounded like a pillow being thrown against the wall, then a thrump as it hit the floor.

Then your door gets nudged open and a blonde woman makes an appearance, a little girl at her feet. "Hey, my little love. How's the work?" Jill says while kicking the door closed with her foot. "This is my niece, Clara, by the way." The little girl sends you a huge gummy grin, toddling over and giving you a glass of water. "I bought breakfast when I went to collect the little monster, so I thought I'd come give it to you." Jill hands you a chocolate croissant, your favourite, and then picks up the little girl currently very enthralled by the ratty little rabbit sat on your bedside table. "Is Kerstin alright?" She asks, referencing the noise from next door.

Your face flushes while you think of how to put it kindly. You can't think of anything. "I'm not sure. Probably lost a game on her phone or something." Jill gives you a funny look at your stutter but doesn't ask anything further. The girl in her arm starts wiggling so she can't consider for much longer. "Okay. Anyway. If you hear me speaking in English then it's to Clara, my brother and his wife are trying to bring her up bilingual so I thought I'd give them a hand."

"Lucky." You pout and Jill laughs.

"How's your English coming along?"

You put on your best English accent. "Excellent." Then add in Dutch. "Absolutely terrible. I need help."

The little girl had seemingly gotten board of your little bunny, and you take a mental not to apologise to it later for being disregarded. Jill notices and begins to stand up from the foot of your bed. She presses a kiss to your orehead, as she does most of the time and bids you goodbye, calling back warning you not to work too hard. You don't think you'll get too much work done at all. Especially after the strange start of the day.

A/n: Pretty long. Pretty much all waffle. Please tell me what you think of it so I can improve and any plot ideas to <33

[umbralsong]

Lady Incognita

Cazador Szarr's "niece" is named Amanita Szarr. You can find her story scattered throughout the palace's attic, dungeon, and the House of Hope. She was a girl who grew up near Anga Vled raised by old servants. At 13, she was brought to visit her uncle in Baldur's Gate...

The day her entire family exposed themselves as vampires.

Alternate Text: An east Asian girl with medium-brown skin and dark brown then red eyes looks away from the viewer. One with brown, facing away. Twice with red and shoddily cut away dark hair, looking away in despair and notably darkened, red, downcast eyes and short hair. Once more with darkened eyes and a cloak and red eyes to match, long dark hair flowing from her hood.

Unfinished, but hey. I want to show fellow artists that things just don't come to you. Sometimes, you have to work the lines and paint until they do. Use Glaze to protect your art from AI scrapers.

The notes you can find in order:

Alturiak 1477 Tarsakh 1477 Mirtul 1477 Kythorn 1477 Flamerule 1477

Please read about issues with Cazador's depiction [here]. Thank them for their kind contribution and show support.

Donate to Gaza here: https://gazafunds.org/ Support good causes with a click here: https://arab.org/ Ceasefire Now: https://ceasefire-now.com/ Donate to the [Sidewalk School] [Pay your rent], settlers. [KOSA Resources]

The city palace, straddling the wall between the Upper and Lower City, was more than creepy, it was somehow chilling.

Cazador Szarr the Avid rose to power in 1296. She stayed at the estate for at least four months before she was killed. She was turned in Kythorn 1477, 15 years before the start of the story.

'Uncle' Cazador made me a vampire, but I refused to participate in the family rites. He gave me the Hunger but he could not break my will. He had Blovart imprison me in the attic. I weakened. They sent up human blood, and eventually I drank it. For a year, they stopped sending anything. I tore at the walls in frustration. Then they sent up a bound captive.

Cazador's favorite punishments are cruelty, hunger, and isolation.

His staff, "Woe:" The gentle tap-tap-tap of a staff on stone sparked terror for all in Cazador's palace. It signalled an approaching storm, and all they could do was shrink into the background and pray its wrath would not fall on them. His dagger, "Rhapsody:" Cazador's love of poetry arose after he read on the naked stomach of a dead child in his homeland. The child was hung from the lowest branch of a tree. Cazador read the poem, and looked at the child, and he knew that here was the artform for him.

Her coffin is on a wooden table overlooking a window. There are chains by her bed, a candle, and a skull. There are three skeletons in the attic, one headless with a crossbow and garlic cloves in their cage.

I succumbed. I am a vampire, and damned. I curse the name of Szarr and reject it. Now I stay in the attic by choice and write my little histories. I am Lady Incognita. Amanita is no more.

I think the snippets of her story were so impactful because of the complete betrayal. The fact her family were never around. The fact they lied for her entire life. The fact they forced her to transform, which we know from Astarion's partial ceremorphosis dialogue is incredibly painful:

Player: Unlike you to be so unwilling to receive a new power... Astarion: That was before I knew the cost. Before I knew it meant transforming into some grotesque beast. I remember how it hurt when I turned to a vampire. My body writhed and warped while I was utterly helpless, the grip of death owned my heart as it beat its last. I - I don't want to turn into anything else. I can't do that again. I can't watch my body be taken over. Player: You're afraid? Astarion: I'll happily murder my way to whatever powerful artefacts we can make use of. Point at the back and I'll stab. Just don't ask me to sacrifice my body. It hasn't been mine for so long.

We know thematically there is a parallel between vampirism, abuse, and sexuality. Cazador appeared to lose interest in his 'niece' altogether. Nonetheless, he locked her into an eternal childhood under "true vampirism," never to grow to adulthood, and denied her a "typical" life forevermore. There is something particularly grotesque about that.

Astarion: Nearly two hundred years and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there. I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his. Until today. Player: You were never his. Whatever he had, he took by force. Astarion: Maybe, but he did take it. There's almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock. For nearly two centuries, I stalked the streets like a ghost while the person I was lay here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.

We find The Tourmaline Depths in the room beneath Cazador's room. She wrote Diseases of the Blood to tackle vampiric illness. She wrote the names of ruling vampires, their titles, and their successors. She is, what, 28?

I like to think she knew all of Cazador's secrets, from the corpses in the suspended cages to his dungeon. I'm impressed by her mental fortitude in the face of such odds as a child and young woman. I'm impressed she chose to do what she loved, escaped, and became such a relevant figure in the study of vampiric physiology. I wish we knew her better. I wish we had the opportunity to meet her.

She is the historian who sullies his name and documents his endless crimes. She escaped. Cazador underestimated her.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Jack, Strauss, Andrei, Velvet, Nines and Beckett with a hunter who tries attacking them with a string of garlic bulbs?

[I am so so sorry this took so long to write! I had to take an impromptu break for a month or so.]

Jack- Eats it. Not really, but makes you think he does. The order of events goes: you're both fighting, you hit his face with the garlic, he bites some off mid-hit to show you how stupid it was to think garlic works, then he decks you in the face, knocking you out cold. He'll leave you alive though. He thinks the whole thing was hilarious and sort of hopes it will happen again.

Strauss- It's like he got a grocery delivery for his next rite. Garlic, various other supplies, and a whole person's worth of blood? He'll be good for at least a week!

Andrei- If you could manage to get close enough to him to even do this, he'll be somewhat impressed. He would have you embraced (by someone else, certainly not by himself). Not only would that add to his hoard of grunts, but also he is amused by the thought of you now being a low level vampire being stalked by those who were once your fellow hunters.

Velvet- How dare you?! The scent of garlic does NOT match her perfume! Real talk, while she could defend herself if she had too, she is also Isaac Abrams' adopted childe. That probably means that if you were to get that close to her, there would be so many of his people on you in the blink of an eye. Being from one of the more sensitive clans, the strong scent might make her nauseous, but that's about it.

Nines- Breaks your arm and walks away. Completely deadpan, expressionless face; he grabs the arm you just swung at him, crunches the radial, turns around and leaves. If using garlic is the level of stunt you're pulling, then you won't be a problem for him anytime soon.

Beckett- Hits you back with the garlic, turns into a wolf while you're dazed, and bites you. Short, sweet, and to the point.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in a Home-Cooked Meal

Summary - Part 50 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Happy New Year! I hope you all had some great celebrations with family and friends. 

Over the few days without Sam and Dean, you and Destiny do face masks, makeup, manicures, pedicures, and watch many movies. You both enjoy the freedom and relaxation of it all. You and Dean text as much as possible, assuring the other that you’re safe. You Google the property from the newspaper and peruse the photos for hours, imagining what it could look like with your few belongings inside and with your and Dean’s touch. You almost send him the link to the advertisement, but stop yourself. He always takes things better in person, and so many changes have already occurred recently. You don’t know how he’ll take another massive life change so soon. 

He texted you this morning saying they were hitting the road and coming home today. The hunt had been more difficult than they had hoped. But that’s not unusual. There’s always some turn that drags them out. You know the territory well, so you didn’t complain or make him feel worse. You just offered help from the Bunker; completing research late into the night while Destiny slept. 

Now knowing he’ll be home for dinner you set off working hard in the kitchen, Destiny at your side. Despite not liking the smell or taste of any of the ingredients, she helps eagerly. With her help, you manage to cook a decent-looking three-course meal. You have cheesy garlic bread and tomato soup to start, a mixed roast with chicken and veggies for the main and a large apple pie for dessert. You feel bad that Destiny won’t enjoy eating anything she helped create, but her happiness shows you that she just enjoyed the process and being able to do something nice for Dean especially. Once you’re done cooking, Destiny even helps you with the mountain of dirty dishes, not wanting to create or leave any extra work for the boys when they get home after the rough hunt and long trip. You want to just snuggle up with your husband after dinner and not worry about anything. 

While they’ve been away, you even had Destiny sleeping alone in her room. You would stay with her and chat until she fell asleep and then wait a while after but then you’d sneak out to the library to do research for the boys. And for the first time, last night she finally stayed the whole night in her own bed. She didn’t wake up crying or crawl into your bed. You’re not sure if it’s all the relaxation techniques you’ve been trying or if she’s just finally adapting, or a mix of both, but you’re glad all the same; for her sake and yours. You just hope she’ll do it again tonight so you can finally have a quiet night – or even an eventful one – with your husband alone. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The boys finally arrive home around 6 pm. You and Destiny are snuggling on your bed watching another anime when Dean walks in. He instantly dumps his bag on the floor and dives onto the bed with you both, wrapping you both up in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you guys,” he says as he kisses Destiny’s head and then pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“We’ve missed you too. But we had a fun girl’s week too.” You pause the movie causing Destiny to pout. “But you must be hungry. Dinner’s ready and waiting.” Dean looks at you mischievously and you instantly know what he’s thinking. You give him a stern look and shake your head. “It’s in the kitchen.”

“Can I tell Sam?” Destiny asks, surprising you both.

“Sure, go ahead,” you say encouragingly. You smile as she crawls off the bed excitedly and scurries down the hall. 

Dean takes the opportunity to pull you closer to his chest and kiss you passionately. He starts to get carried away, pushing you down into the soft memory foam mattress as he crawls over you. “I’m sure you cooked a delicious meal, but the only dinner I want is right here.” he kisses down your neck as you fight to contain yourself.

“As amazing as that sounds…the door’s open and that little girl will have a lot of questions if we don’t go out there or if she sees this. And I’m not ready to answer those questions. Are you?” you ask as you push him to sit up.

He sighs. “No. Why did I agree to this again?”

“Because you love me. And she’s growing on you. You’re great with kids, I know you wanted one. Anyway, you’ve lasted longer celibate.”

“Yeah, but I only just got to give that up and get you back again. I miss you. I miss feeling you and making love to you.”

“She slept all night in her own bed last night.”

“Really?”

“Yep. No nightmares. No waking up.”

Dean kisses you deeply with a big smirk. “Let’s go eat. The sooner we eat, the sooner it can be bedtime,” he says excitedly when he pulls away.

“You’re such a dork,” you say laughing as he climbs off the bed and pulls you with him.

“But I’m your dork.”

“That you are. For ever and ever.”

With a spring in his step, he leads you to the kitchen where he finds the feast laid out on the small table, complete with the best cutlery and crockery you could find in the dusty old cupboards. Sam and Destiny are already sitting down. Sam has a plate full of food in front of him while Destiny has the cow heart you put aside earlier; it’s a stark contrast to the vision the rest of the meal creates but you accept it. While researching their case, you also looked through the library for a cure for lycanthropy but the only thing you could find was for newly turned werewolves and only if they hadn’t fed on human hearts. Destiny being born a werewolf and also the fact that her father was feeding her human hearts exclude her from that option. But you and Dean agreed to take her on as she is in that park, so you accept her, cow hearts and all. You smile as you sit down beside her and start to fill your own plate. Dean sits beside Sam, across from you, and starts to fill his plate too. 

“This is delicious. Thanks Y/N. Much better than diner food,” Sam says. “I could get used to you staying here and us coming home to this.”

You smile at him and nod, but you feel guilty. The photos of the house on the hill filter through your mind. Could you really be happy here, like this? Raising a little girl in a Bunker? Will Dean ever really get out if you stay? He promised. He said he wanted to get out. He’s finally ready. But if we stay here… 

Dean notices the small frown as your mind wanders and nudges your leg under the table, bringing you back to the present. He catches your eyes, silently asking if you’re okay. You nod and focus on eating the meal you put so much time, effort and passion into cooking. Of course, he’s not convinced but he lets it go for now. He knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. 

After dinner and dessert, everyone helps to tidy up from the meal and do the dishes. Sam then retreats to his room while you start on the nightly routine you established over the last week. You make sure Destiny showers and brushes her teeth before you tuck her into her bed. You then sit on the end of the bed and go through some of the meditation exercises you found online that are meant to help with nightmares and insomnia. You have a feeling these exercises would be beneficial for your husband too, but you know it will be a push to get him to try them. Maybe in time, you can make them a family thing, but for now, you’re content with doing them with Destiny. When she starts to yawn and curl up in the blankets you place a kiss on her head and turn out the main light, leaving just the little dog-shaped nightlight on. You thought it was a little on the nose at first, but she chose it and wouldn’t put it down in the store so you happily bought it for her. You sit in a comfy chair by the door and wait for her breathing to even out. As you wait you start to drift off, but Dean peaks his head in and kisses your head.

“She asleep?” he asks quietly.

You watch the steady rise and fall of her body as she breathes for a moment and then nod. He offers you his hand which you take and he leads you to your room. He’s dressed in a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt, indicating he already showered while waiting for you. You frown as he climbs into bed, beckoning you to join him.

“I haven’t showered yet.”

“Sorry, did you want me to wait for you? I can always shower again if you want me to join…” You shake your head. “Come on, you look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up. Shower later. Come cuddle your husband. He’s so very cold and lonely. And misses having his sexy wife in his arms.”

“Only if he stops talking about himself in the third person.”

“Just come here, Sweetheart.” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to lay on his chest. You don’t make him wait, you crawl onto the bed and into his waiting arms. He tightens his grip around you as you get comfortable.

Despite, falling asleep not minutes earlier and the comfort of Dean's embrace and steady breathing you couldn’t be more awake. The thoughts of what Sam said earlier along with your own concerns and the images of the house swirl around your mind. 

“You still awake?” you ask quietly, not wanting to wake him if he is.

“You wanna talk about what was on your mind at dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back.

You nod, and then say, “Are we still planning to get out?”

You feel him tense a little as his hand stops moving on your back. After a moment he nods. “We’re not gonna raise Destiny in the Bunker forever are we?”

“Are we gonna stop answering each other's questions with more questions?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? To what? We’re not answering with questions or?”

He chuckles lowly. “Both. I meant it when I said I was ready. We’re married now, we have a daughter (essentially), you cook delicious three-course-meals…I think we can manage.”

“Hey!” you say mocking offence. “I kinda enjoy the housewife, stay-at-home-mom thing. I think I’d want to do something eventually, especially when or if Destiny goes to school full-time. But for now, I’m happy for the break. I know you’d need to stay busy though…”

“Maybe I could follow in Bobby’s footsteps. I am pretty good with cars. We just need the house in the suburbs with the white picket fence.”

“Or maybe we don’t…” you reach over onto your bedside table for your phone and bring up the ad as he looks at you confused. “It’s not in the suburbs and it doesn’t have a fence, let alone a white picket one, but I think it’s perfect.” You bite your lip as you hand him your phone and he scrolls through the photos.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

[plussizefantasia]

All of Me

Flufftober Day 11: Dancing Together

Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

AN: I absolutely hate Steve's Endgame ending, but I'm not gonna lie and say that watching him slow dance with Peggy didn't make me cry. So here's my own version of it. The Song referenced is "All of Me" by Billie Holiday and you should definitely listen to it.

Please reblog if you liked this it really supports me and keeps me wanting to write more.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You love your job. Really you do, but days like this tempt you to burn the building down just so that you won’t have to come in the next day.

It was one thing after another and by the time 5:00 rolled around and you were finally able to go home you wanted to shut the world out completely. The only thing was, Steve, your wonderful, amazing, devilishly handsome boyfriend had gotten back from a week-long mission today and wanted to spend all the time he could with you before he was sent away again.

You had forgotten Steve got back today, so when you opened the door of your apartment and heard the tell-tale signs of your boyfriend cluttering up your kitchen you didn't stop yourself from letting out a deep groan and banging your head against the wall.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Steve, you loved him and wanted to spend every minute of the rest of your life with the man. It was simply that you had no energy for anything else today. Your boyfriend was famous for his golden retriever vibe, and you felt more like a black cat every minute.

“I take it you had a bad day then?” His arms wrapped around you from behind. You were so caught up in your pity party that you didn’t hear him the first time he called, nor did you hear him make his way to the door to intercept you.

You didn’t respond with words just another grumpy groan and burying your head into his chest. His arms rubbed up and down your back in a soothing manner. The same way that you rubbed his back after he woke up from a particularly bad dream.

“I made dinner” He spoke into the air above you, “It’s spaghetti and garlic bread and I even got some of that wine you like from the market in Little Italy.” 

“Steve, I love you but I just can’t. Not today”

“I love you too doll, but you need to eat.” You really did feel bad for ruining what would have been a lovely night at home, but you just didn’t have the emotional capacity to care right at the moment.

“You shouldn’t even try to argue with me sweetheart, I’ve been told I’m pretty stubborn.” You knew he was right so you simply nodded into his chest and let him pull you towards the kitchen. 

One of your favorite things about Steve was his ability to take charge. When you were with him you could kind of turn off your brain and just exist, knowing that he would take care of you. He always did and tonight was no different. 

Steve handed you your plate and grabbed his, the portions alone revealing which plate belonged to whom. You are convinced that man could actually eat a whole horse if he put his mind to it. Instead, he just consumed entire boxes of pasta for dinner. 

He guided you towards the comfy couch that took up most of the area in your living room and put on the show that the two of you watched when you didn’t want something that required too much thinking. He just wrapped his arm around the back of the couch and rested his hand on your shoulder mindlessly drawing shapes to reassure you that he was there. The two of you didn’t speak, he knew that you weren’t in a place where you could carry on a conversation and you knew that anything you did try to say would come out way too snappy and you would regret it later when you thought about it.

You did, however, lean into him and let the warmth of his body remind you of how loved you were. How days like this were rare, but not less difficult. How the man you loved was there for you and loved you even when you got into the dark places like this.

When your meal was finished Steve took your plate from you and placed it into the sink. You went to start the water and bent over to get the rubber gloves from their place under the sink. Steve’s gentle grip on your arm was enough to stop you, “I got it” he said.

“But, you cooked, so I-”

“I got it doll, I promise. Go take a bath, use one of your face masks. I’ll be out here when you’re done”. If you were feeling better you would’ve swooned, but all you did was place a kiss on your boyfriend's cheek and follow his instructions.

A hot bath with some candles and a face mask was all you needed to recenter yourself. It gave you time to think, to process what happened today, and to make a plan for tomorrow. When your hands began to prune and you felt much better about life you pulled yourself out of the bath and towards your bedroom to put on a pair of pajamas.

Dressed in one of your oversized sleep shirts, and a pair of shorts you ventured back out to the living room to find Steve and invite him to join you in a cuddle.

What you found made you fall in love with him all over again. Steve had placed and lit every candle the two of you owned around the place. You’re sure it could be considered a fire hazard. He had pushed the furniture to the side and had cleared a big area of the floor out. He had turned the old record player that you had found at an antique show last year and bought him for his birthday on, and softly coming out of the cone were the sweet and soft tones of Billie Holiday. Her song “All of Me” flowed out and surrounded you.

Steve himself was standing in the middle of the cleared-out space with his hand held out towards you. You took it without a second thought and he pulled you into his arms. 

“I don’t deserve you” You muttered.

“You deserve the world, doll and I’m here to give it to you.” You don’t think you have the capacity to express how much you love this man but Billie was doing a good job for you.

“I’m no good without you’ You sang along and Steve smiled joining in with you.

It didn’t matter that you were in pajamas, or that you had just had one of the worst days in a really long time, Steve was here. And he had you. All of you. For the rest of forever.

[lauralot89]

Report from Patrick Hennessey, M. D., M. R. C. S. L. K. Q. C. P. I., etc.

I searched this trying to figure out what the fuck was happening, and these were the results:

Thankfully, the Dracula Daily subreddit had my back:

Had the same question and there probably should have been a comma between S and L. MD - Medical Doctor MRCS - Member Royal College of Surgeons LKQCPI - Licentiate of the Kings and Queens College of Physicians of Ireland

He has had another outbreak

Poor Renfield. First Dracula ditches him for Lucy, and then Seward does the same.

I went down to see if I could make out any cause for his anger, since he is usually such a well-behaved man, and except his violent fits nothing of the kind had ever occurred

Except for his fits of violence he's never been violent

led me to believe that he was completely oblivious of the affair. It was, I am sorry to say, however, only another instance of his cunning

I mean that's not particularly cunning, that's what a toddler does when they realize they're about to be in trouble for acting up and/or the Shaggy Defense

Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry to-night. I am too miserable, too low-spirited, too sick of the world and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heard this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death.

I keep remembering that he's saying all this out loud. So dramatic. Can't blame him.

Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had been in the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, the canine teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest.

There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by a great bat, which wheeled round—doubtless attracted by the light, although so dim—and every now and again struck the window with its wings.

what are you even doing Dracula, do you just want to watch your girl transform?

I found that Lucy had moved slightly, and had torn away the garlic flowers from her throat.

Oh shit

It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when she waked she clutched them close.

This is sad. I'm sad now. Damn it, Dracula.

The wounds on the throat had absolutely disappeared.

Oh shit.

For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his face at its sternest. Then he turned to me and said calmly:—

"She is dying. It will not be long now.

well it would have been five minutes longer if you hadn't stood there gaping at her

He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back. "No," he whispered, "not yet! Hold her hand; it will comfort her more."

Guys, if ever I lay dying, I just want you to know that I do prefer hand-holding and forehead kisses to mouth kisses. I don't know why this will ever be relevant, but just so you know.

"Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss me!"

Lucy what are you even planning here, are you going to suck the blood out of his lips? His tongue?

Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness, and putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great brown one; drawing it to her, she kissed it. "My true friend," she said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos, "My true friend, and his! Oh, guard him, and give me peace!"

no that's fine, I didn't need my heart anyway

Do you ever wonder if Dracula had similar emotions when he turned

I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the drawing-room, where he sat down, and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in a way that nearly broke me down to see.

I too am broken

"Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!"

When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered:—

"We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see."

FOR FUCK'S SAKE, MAN

[igglemouse]

Another morning unfurls before me and with another plate of waffles at that. The flavor is apple bacon waffles, in case you are wondering, and do I need to say more than that? You take apples, bacon, and put them with waffles and you make a powerful trio!

With Love Day coming up I wonder if I'll hear from Pascal? It seems the momentum from our first date has slowed and the strength of it is based on a kiss that we shared days ago.

While my love life remains in a more idle state my food stand is the complete opposite and might as well be rolling full speed like an avalanche.

Over 700 yesterday and in one shift! My previous success motivates my cooking today because I know as long as I keep it up the simoleons will continue to roll in. Every sale I make only grows my confidence more and more!

I need to thank the Flower Bunny because gardening has become a joy of mines. Each morning I spend time with my little bushes, each they they look a little stronger, a little taller, and just a little more green.

Today, they have a few visitors in the shape of buzzing flies or insects or I'm not sure what they are? Doesn't matter, they are not welcomed and a gentle mist of pesticide will hopefully shoo them away.

My plans for today were what you might expect from me by now. Cooking, opening up my stand, profit, and then get my rest to do it all over again but before I could make my way back indoors another plan surfaces. An outing with Simón.

I should say no. It's at the back of my mind to do so and it swirls there for a moment allowing me to rethink that decision. I don't want to bring too much of my past to Oasis Springs but he's here now, isn't it? Avoiding him solves nothing especially when I don't want to.

He meets me at a small but popular Selva place which of course is the perfect place to take me on what I realize might just be a date. I check in to find that he's already at the table and sifting through the menu. No surprise there, Simón has always been very punctual and on time. He's a man that keeps to his promises.

I have to say, this place reminds me a little of home. The music that is piped in through speakers hanging from the walls is familiar and makes it easy to imagine a small mariachi band playing on crowded days because it looks like there is a space for it but the music played through the speakers is just a background to the conversation that flitters through restaurant. The scent of home filled me for just a moment and I could have fell into that nostalgia if it wasn't for Simón sitting across from me, still going through his menu.

"Worried you wasn't going to come," he says, not quite lifting his eyes to me. "First time here?"

"Yeah, still very new in town."

"Yeah, me too but I thought you might like this place."

I did. Simón has a knack for this, a sixth sense you might say, developed for me personally. He knows all the little things that delight me as if it is penned into his memory.

"Decided on something?" I ask more out of necessity. Not wanting to linger too long on fond memories I have on him and trying to tell myself that I didn't include him into my future plans for a reason.

"Your choice, and the bill is on me."

"Simon I..." I start to confess. My purse is full of simoleons, well not literally but you know what I mean. I'm close to telling him I can pay for the bill but there is tradition flowing through this man's blood. His pride, everything for him, would not allow it. I swallow my words and offer an appreciative smile instead and start to peek through the menu. For many, it's just a list of foods. For me, it's inspiration and a list of recipes. I try to etch as many as I can into my memory for future reference as I'm sure there is something here I could adapt to my stand.

"We'll have the garlic bread," I declare to a waitress who came to hover over our table. An older woman but one who looked happy to be working here.

With the waitress off to fulfill our order I decide to ask the question that's been on my mind since seeing him a few days ago at my front door.

"Why are you here?" it tumbles out more as an accusation than an honest question. I regret it at once because he doesn't deserve it. At least I don't think so.

"Frida," he chuckles, the laughter reaching his eyes as the answer is oh so obvious. "You know the 'why' the moment you opened the door for me."

"Your job," I remind him, the hush of my voice slipping behind the music and the stray conversation that has become mostly white noise around us. The whisper of 'cartel' on my lips, a word I didn't dare say but didn't need to.

"Let's just say I've been relocated, a favor I called in. That's all, nothing more."

It was difficult to continue the conversation from that point so we did not. After all, you never know whose listening in and the less said about Simón's job the better. I am curious as to what this 'favor' might be but again, the less said, the better.

"So, a food stand?" he asks, changing the subject thankfully. "It's not what I would have guessed, I still remember you trying to cook shrimp was it?" his chuckle is a time machine, snapping me back to a shared memory of ours, one of those little moments that grows larger with time.

"Well," I can't help but join in the mirth. "Sometimes when you try to be perfect you instead create a perfect mess."

His laughter continues, showing me a smile that I had fell in love with not too long ago. "Were you trying to poison me?"

I join in thinking back on the time once again and also thinking back on the relationship shared with him. It did not take long for him to remind me why we fell in love and now I am sure that it was love, a mutual and passionate love that we shared for each other. This short conversation has revealed at least that much to me.

The arrival of our food offers a pause in our conversation because even if it was garlic bread it was delicious enough that it demanded our full attention. I could tell that that whoever was in the kitchen knew what they were doing.

Eventually our plates are empty and only a smattering of crumbs is left. Right on cue the waitress returns, as if she were waiting, making me note how tight of a ship this place must be. I have the random picture of me running my own restaurant, a thought that isn't allowed to take place because the waitress is waiting on our order. I tell her we'll let the chef decide and Simón agrees with a nod.

As we wait on our next meal it is Simon's time to ask a question that I can tell has been on his mind since he saw me the other night.

"Love day is coming up, are you..."

He doesn't have to say any more and my pause probably bothers him but I don't know what to tell him. I'm not taken. There has been nothing official about what happened between Pascal and I and yet it feels like I should say something. Instead, I shake my head, and try to get as close to the truth as I can. "I'm sure there is a guy out there interested in me."

"I'm sure of that as well," he says with a bit of a scoff. "I think I've come right in time."

"Right in time for what?"

"To write the next chapter of our story."

I bite my lip and give him a coy smile, choosing to take a sip of my root beer, on in this case a chug, instead of giving him a proper reply. He very may well sweep me off my feet again...

Our outing wasn't done and we found ourselves outside, the air still rich of Spring yet with a hint of warmness that told of the Summer to come.

There is a lingering between us, a shared desire to stretch out the minutes so that we could find just a little more time together. We both understand that perhaps the role we've played in each others story isn't quite fulfilled.

"Frida," he says my name with the weight of an anchor, giving me a reason that was never needed to stick around. "You know that I am here for you, right?"

"I..." the rest of my sentence is caught in my throat and I hesitate to say what needs to be said. "I'm here for a fresh start."

"Frida, not all of it was bad."

"No," I say, looking at him, the one person I would have and should have dragged here with me. Yet, seeing his face brings back things I'd rather forget. Nothing he's connected to and yet. "I just need time, that's all, just some time and space."

"Ok, I understand," his reply is good enough for me although I question its sincerity. He pulls me into a hug and at that we decide now is the best time to part although I know I'd rather spend more time with him and I have a feeling that that thought is mutual.

I find myself back inside the restaurant and back at its bar. Ordering something with a bit of punch and taking small gulps of it, swirling it as thoughts on my 'date' with swirled around my head.

There wasn't much said between us to linger on but still there was much to think about. He clearly wants me again. Is the feeling mutual? Well, I'm already missing him.

Eventually I stagger back home, the weight of the drink pulls me down into the couch and I'm more than content to just accept the embrace of its cheap cushions until morning...

I get maybe an hour of rest, maybe two, but before I can get more and before I can drift off fully into dream land there's a knock at the door. Simón's silhouette waiting patiently on the other side. I'm not at all surprised.

"Simón," I say his name in a whine, knowing that it was me that brought him here and once he slipped inside we were heading for the other and soon face to face.

I wanted to say more but what more was there to say? Instead, our lips did all the talking and the kiss, while slightly awkward at first, showed that despite the time apart we had known each other very very well.

Once our lips lock it is hard to unlock them, we are hungry for each other, eager to make up for lost time and opportunity, but it is I who is pushing him back. To where I do not know, I just want more of him, pushing aside fears of my past to deal with the desires of now.

"Wait, Frida, wait," gently he breaks the kiss, reluctantly he's cautious, which confuses me long enough that I do pull back. Maybe he has a good excuse as to why we should stop and so I hesitate to listen to what it might be. "You know where this will lead."

"Yes, and I'll lead the way..."

It is I who leads this dance, my dress coming off thanks to my own doing and the urgency I have to get what I want. Once I am bare before him his reluctance is no more and the message is received. When we are connected again I'm not only hit by pleasure but nostalgia, the familiarity of him felt just right and made me wonder what was I running from? Definitely not him...

Episode List - Next

[lilpotatjj]

hellooo i hope you're doin fine, i was wondering if i could request a bella ramsey nsfw alphabet? thx ❤

A/N: Never even heard of that BUT, here we go sweety thank you so much for this beautiful idea. Hope you like it, if not I'm ready to get punched :P

NSFW Alphabet Bella Ramsey (18+)

A = Aftercare

Bella will definitely make sure that you are well afterwards. Enjoy being together and cuddle with her. She is quite affectionate and doesn't want to let you go.

B = Body part

Your hands are her favourite toy, because you can make her happy in many different ways. Whether you're drinking or gaming, the way you move your hands can drive them crazy at any time.

C = Cum

Bella is quite open to everything, especially when it comes to sex. Since she is rather inexperienced, she wants to know everything and find out by trying it out. Once you've come all over her hand, she won't stop right away, will use it to tease you further, only to lick her fingers with satisfaction afterwards.

D = Dirty Secret

Bella would do anything with you even bondage games and test how far your pain threshold is. She only finds it difficult to talk about it because she is far too shy, the reason it's her secret.

E = Experience

Bella is rather inexperienced and wants to try out a lot. She knows exactly what she wants and she shows you that clearly. Giving up is not an option, because she is very patient.

F = Favourite Position

Especially because she is still inexperienced and rather shy, she loves it when you show her the ropes. Bending over her and being submissive is exactly what she loves the most. Surrendering to you completely and you tease her, showing her how experienced you are. If your relationship moves on she will often change the tables.

G = Goofy

Bella knows exactly what she wants and likes to play over her shyness with jokes. But the more you bring her over the edge, the more serious she becomes, cause sex will never be somthing she takes lightly.

H = Hair

Bella loves her long, well-groomed hair, but now she feels so much better with shorter hair. It's neat, but she doesn't mind if it gets messed up. No matter if it's wildly messy or slicked back. Nothing that can't be tidied up again, in keeping with her rebellious character.

I = Intimacy

Despite her inexperience, she likes to be spontaneous, not everything has to be planned and even light actions like kissing on the neck can drive her crazy. Her rebellious nature tempts her to overshoot the mark too quickly. She is rather shy at first, but this will soon subside once you get started.

J = Jack Off

Rather rarely as she prefers it when you take over and she can let herself go in your presence.

K = Kink

Bella loves to submit to you, to just be the object of your desire, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like to turn the tables on you. If your relationship lasts longer, she will quickly become more open and want to be a bit more rebellious. Sometimes it degenerates into corruption kink from both sides.

L = Location

Due to her shyness, she is rather reserved for special places. which does not mean she is not interested. try it out, yes, as long as it is not too public.

M = Motivation

The way you talk and she looks at your lips can drive her crazy. Kisses on the neck and chin make her change her mind too quickly and take away some of her shyness. She loves it when you give them pet names.

N = NO

Almost nothing, you shouldn't necessarily have eaten a garlic sandwich beforehand but otherwise she is far too open to everything. She is non-binary and does not like to be called a young lady. she loves all other pet names, so be careful what you say to her in the heat of the moment.

O = Oral

She loves it when she gets to do it and is always trying things out. Nevertheless, she also wants to be spoiled by you. Quite a balanced relationship.

P = Pace

Bella likes it rather fast and rough. She likes to lose control and can be quite naughty. But only if your relationship has been going on for a while, otherwise she is rather shy and cautious, careful not to scare you.

Q = Quickie

Bella loves quickies precisely because she is so spontaneous and gets horny quickly. Once started, all she cares about is that it doesn't happen at trafalgar square.

R = Risk

Bella is open to almost anything, but it takes a while and your relationship has to be solid. When she gets more confident she will open up to you and show you how far love can go.

S = Stamina

At the beginning of your relationship, Bella had enough for once your done. The more often you have sex, the more rebellious their will be to make a long night out of it.

T = Toy

She doesn't have one herself, but would be more than open to trying anything, including bondage with ropes. If you have any, she's dying to try them all.

U = Unfair

Bella herself doesn't like being teased at all. however, she loves to let her own rebellious way out on you. To continue to annoy you, especially if you have already come once or twice. You usually have to force yourself to stop her sometimes.

V = Volume

First always rather reserved, shy moans, which quickly become more intense when Bella really gets going. Once you start moaning too, that only heats Bella up even more. Pet names are distributed and not too little.

W = Wild Card

Bella is non binary and is often attracted to women I would say she is lesbian but I am not ruling out bi. (just my thoughts) When it comes to trying things out, she tends towards women.

X = X-Ray

Bella has a beautiful slender body with nice but really light curves. She is small but that doesn't mean that she is incapable of doing the filthiest things to you.

Y = Yearning

She is young, open to try everything, curious to go beyond her limits without losing sight of you. If it suits you, then it doesn't matter how often, as long as her self-confidence has been established.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depending on what you've done, she's not going to get tired anytime soon. If the day was long or the frustration big, it can sometimes be a long night.