#aw bram baby i love you

[jungle-angel]

Midnight Ride (Ben Mears x Reader)

Summary: The coven gets some help on a night hunt from a rather unconventional creature

Warnings: Parenthood

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @lewinblue @sorchathered @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia

"Alright, we're movin out," Ben announced.

Everybody geared up with their hunting backpacks, jackets and loaded them with whatever weapons they would be needing that night. Randy had just been put to bed and Mabel had offered to stay with Mrs. Mayberry, Mrs. Curless and Loretta Starcher to watch him and yours and Ben's newborn son. Better to have three people holding down the fort than just one.

You and Ben snuck up to the nursery where Baby Sean was sleeping soundly in his crib. He barely stirred, just wriggling a little bit in the tight swaddle of his knitted blanket. You still couldn't believe how much joy he had brought to the household already, only home for a day but already he had the whole coven wrapped around his little fingers.

Ben kissed Sean's delicate little head and his soft little cheeks, the baby wriggling a little bit. "Shhhhh, go back to sleep," he whispered. "Go back to sleep. We'll see you in the morning."

You kissed your son and then your husband before heading back downstairs to pack the rest of your bags for the night. Father Callahan gathered everybody around him, their hands linked as everyone began to pray the Our Father and then repeated back The Oath Of The Hunters.

"Night has fallen and our watch begins," the coven said, all as if with one voice. "We leave our home and all therein. Into certain danger we go running, evil and darkness beware for we are coming. To The angels, the saints, the gods of new and old, in your hands do we place our souls. Let no fear of darkness deep, disturb our peaceful sleep. Keep us safe from all harmful things and keep us safe beneath the angels' wings."

And with that, they packed up the last few things and headed out into the night.

The night was still young with the full moon hanging over the woods and illuminating the path for them. Other members of the coven soon started to arrive from their own houses along with a bunch of the neighborhood kids. Mark's gang of goonies had readily joined them, their backpacks completely emptied of their school books and supplies, while within were pouches of garlic and wild roses, wooden stakes and weapons that most fifth graders could carry easily.

The chatterings of whippoorwills and the hooting of owls in the trees filled the wooded roads with an eeriness that only those of the lot were truly familiar with. The weather was getting much, much colder already and soon, winter would be right around the corner with far and fewer hunts than in the fall.

"Man this is freaking me out," Ben remarked. "S'like something straight outta Bram Stoker."

"Yeah well, pretty sure Stoker enjoyed himself a little too much here," Matt Burke chuckled.

Mike Ryerson dug around in his pocket and then in the front pocket of his fiancé, Lucy Mahoney's backpack. "Baby what are ya'll doin?" she asked, her thick Tennessee drawl drawing out the words.

"I just realized where we are," Mike giggled a little.

You and Ben looked at each other and then the realization hit you. The smiles that came across your faces said it all.

"You gonna do that thing you do?" you asked Mike.

"Aw hell yeah," he chuckled.

Mike grabbed his dad's mixtape player and stuck the small tape in it, pressing the play button and turning the volume up as loud as it could possibly go. You, Ben and the others couldn't help but bob along to the music as Redbone's "Come And Get Your Love" started playing from the speakers.

Not a single member of that coven could help themselves, all of them laughing and singing along in the most off-key ways possible, belting out the refrain as loud as their voices could carry. Even Father Callahan had proved he was a damn good singer.

Everyone's voices echoed through the trees and across the rocks, over the crick and around the steep gullies deeper in the woods. You were all caught up in the reverie, singing along to the words and hardly noticing the thunderous vibrations that were floating along the ground.

"He's coming!!" Mark shouted excitedly.

As soon as the song had ended, everyone stopped and fell completely silent. The wind whistled through the ancient trees as something rumbled and crashed through the woods, the fallen logs and dead aspens, oaks and ash cracked and snapped like twigs.

Out of the foliage came an old friend, huge and shaggy like a musk ox but with big curving horns that reminded you and Ben of the helmets worn by characters in some campy dark fantasy movie. His eyes were grumpy looking along with his tremendous underbite and deep growly groan.

He sniffed Matt first and then you and Ben before Ben gave him a few scritches on his snout. "How goes Harry?" he chuckled.

Harry snorted and tossed his head, signaling for everyone to climb on his back, patiently waiting until everyone was aboard. He took off at a tremendous speed through the woods, galloping like some gigantic horse while everyone held on for dear life.

"We having fun yet?!" Father Callahan called out.

"Oh sure, didn't think I'd be spending a Friday night like this!" Parkins answered back, hanging onto Harry's shaggy fur for dear life.

You and Ben laughed as Harry galloped off into the woods. Your hunt had just gotten a million times easier.

[embystarr-blog]

Dracula and the adaptations I've watched

These are all the movies and TV shows I've watched where Dracula appears... and what I think about them.

Disclaimer: this is based off my OWN personal preferences. I don't care if you want to argue with me, everyone can think differently and I literally will smile and nod if you come to argue about my taste... because It's Fine. You can hate a Dracula I love, you can hate Dracula himself, you can ship it with anyone you want.

Me personally? I ship him with a character that I've made up inside my head, and Lisa of Lupu from the Castlevania series, and literally no one else.

I will still read all kinds of Dracula fics and adaptations, and (probably) find something good in them! So if you have books and movies and tv shows to recommend where he appears, I'm up for it. I simply enjoy Dracula: as a villain, a hero, a morally grey character, a little bitch... you name it.

1. Dracula 2000: 3/10

Dracula is Gerard Butler???? Yes. I watched this movie more than 20 years ago, so all I can remember is that there's a scene where Dracula has sex with a girl and they levitate. Yeah, I still think it was weird as f.

Um, generally I would've given it a 1/10 but Dracula does look like this:

AND he's literally Judas from the Bible. Good lore overall, I'll give it two more points for Gerard's hotness and the Bible references.

2. Van Helsing: 7/10

Yes this movie isn't good by any means, but I absolutely LOVE AND ADORE it and I will defend it with my entire soul. There are vampires dancing ina masquerade, the opening scene is Van Helsing fighting Mr Hyde and Dracula is a drama king and literally the funniest guy ever. Love him forever. He spends most of his night doing that ponytail I'm certain.

3. Penny Dreadful: 9/10

First Latino Dracula? Check Unhinged in a controlled way? Check. The brother of the Literal Devil? CHECKCHECKCHECK.

I loved this version, but then again I loved the entire story and I cried my eyes out when it ended. I'm taking a point off because it ended, but Dracula's arc was actually well thought.

4. Castlevania: 15/10

This not only had the perfect ending, it was the perfect Dracula, I am not Over any of the characters, but Dracula had my entire heart from the second he appeared on-screen. That's it and I don't accept different opinions, by the way.

5. NBC's Dracula: 2/10

God this was entirely AWFUL. I liked it when it came out because I was young and naive, but I tried to rewatch it recently and it's cringe worthy.

I liked a Dracula interested in modernity and modern inventions, that's it. That's why it has two points and not ZERO.

6. Dracula: dead and loving it: 10/10

Loved every second of it, would rewatch at any given time. I love a funny Dracula and this really works as a comfort movie. Jonathan made me laugh a lot too.

7. Bram Stoker's Dracula: 4/10

I couldn't, cannot' stomach that movie. I love the scenery, I love the dresses, I love the atmosphere. I don't love the story or the way the characters were butchered for no reason. I also hate the sexism it portrays, so there's THAT. The four points are for Gary Oldman's hotness levels and the atmosphere in general.

8. Dracula Untold: 6/10

Contrary to popular opinion, I do like this Dracula. Is it cringey? Kind of. Is he more like a superhero? Yeah. Did I love the ending? Uh, no actually I didn't. Still, I liked the medieval setting and the historical references.

9. BBC Dracula: -10/10

This Dracula was the perfect, PERFECT mix of a creepy bastard, like he's in the book, and a criminal mastermind, and a charmer, EXACTLY like he's in the book. Like God, I enjoyed it so much. I thought I'd finally get a book accurate Dracula. There's even the baby scene!! He is so creepy!

I was so happy... for the first two episodes. The third episode was like dragging my nails across a chalkboard and that's why I'm taking off all the points.

He became absolutely cringey and I hated it. It ruined the entire show for me. I'll never watch again bc I could feel my heart breaking and I don't want to feel like that.

10: Hotel Transylvania: 8/10

I liked this Dracula, he's also a widower like most Draculas! Funny guy, funny accent. Family man. Hotel owner. There were other monsters too, which is always a plus imo.

[oh-my-damn]

I’m just teasing, bratty baby. It’s sweet when you’re possessive over me, makes you even more of a cutie.

I’m reading Atomic Habits by James Clear and Dracula by Bram Stoker. I alternate depending on my mood lol. Aren’t you a sweetie? Of course I’ll message you goodnight before I go to sleep. Aw you wish you were laying next to me, don’t ya? Poor little girl.

Daddy

I-

🥴

I don't even know how to formulate a response right now

Brain rebooting, give me a sec here...

First off, it's not nice to tease 🥺

Second off, those are good books! I've read Dracula before, but I barely remember it, it was for school lol. But I liked it! Like the movie, too.

And a good night message sounds lovely, yes please 🥺

Oh, and uh, about that last thing.. Yes, yes I do, how could you tell?🫣

[5ammi90]

Episode 8

A little crazy. You manipulative bitch. I can’t believe you’ve done this.

Felix, aw he cute.

I love Ms Thomas. Dang Mia. The shade. She responded to Felix’s joke. Cute. Oh yay Breakfast club episode.

Yay bribery. Always works. Pilar is warming up again. Kinda.

Victor, don’t worry Bram is there.

Lake you have a sticker in your hair. Oh oops, Felix gave Lake a hickey. Felix is definitely gonna drop his pants to prove he has two balls.

Victor has been thrown into the deep end. Hi Kim. Love your hair. Bram, save the baby gay he is terrified. Also he hates himself for being gay. Good luck with that.

Pilar ain’t speaking. She got a tongue piercing as well didn’t she. Yep two piercings, oh no.

Yay basketball to save the day. Oooo now Bram plays. Cool. Hi Mia, perfect timing.

Mia. Oh god, why did you say that to Felix. Shit. Trainwreck. Oops Felix but hey make it work. Lake. Poor Felix.

He’s not trying to be insulting, he’s just curious. Yeah, hug the baby gay. He needs support.

Give her an inch and she took a mile. She kinda has a point there dad.

Are you Andrew?? Are you?? You make people laugh at other people expense and that make you not a good person.

Mia. Just cause you are have problems with Victor doesn’t mean you can be like that to your friend. Yeah Lake. Tell her. Well done baby. He is very sweet.

Victor is terrified. Guy introduces himself and Victor.exe stops responding. Oh shit, Simon, no. Guys, what the hell??

No Andrew they don’t.

Yay for communication. Lake and Felix are adorable.

Ok Andrew. That doesn’t fix everything but ok.

Is dad finally gonna talk to Pilar, properly. I don’t think he has.

Oh my god it’s Simon. What’s he doing here??? Hi Simon. What’s the matter. Um. I don’t think he was using as a guru, I just think he wanted to vent. They wanted to help because they know what it’s like. Justin, be easy with the baby gay. Don’t say hi to Mike because you haven’t broke up with Mia. Oh no. What’s the bet someone took a pic and Mia finds out about New York.

Trainwreck incoming.

[angolicious]

Time to simp over bram stoker again-

I mean…. I know he’s only shoulders and a head but like… he’s sentient…. And he’s got a personality…. And personally i feel he deserves love too, and i think he would be very grateful for it.

Let’s be real. Let’s be COMPLETELY honest. Bram stoker might single handedly be the MOST touch starved character in all of bsd. I don’t wanna just compound on all of this to make everyone feel bad for him but- i would like to take a moment to point out.

He has spent he past…. Who knows how many years… in a literal box. I don’t think he’s slept all that time because he wants to. I don’t think he was given a choice. He was left cold… and alone with his thoughts for years. Fukichi wouldn’t even give him a fucking RADIO. And that makes me so mad. Fukichi wouldn’t even give him the simple curtesy of some music to help keep the silence from driving him mad.

If this motherfucker’s nose itches…. Or he gets uncomfortable in his coffin- what the actual fuck is he supposed to do??? Scratch it?? Roll over?!? How??!? It’s got to be absolutely miserable. Just laying on his back in that stupid coffin- or being mounted upright…? Have you seen the way Fukichi carries him? It just LOOKS uncomfortable. The poor baby….

Alright- vent aside… all of this is to compound on why i believe he’s the most touch starved character. I just feel like it would do him good to have somebody take just a little care for him.

Imagine how nice it would be to just give him some time out of the coffin, and take him to do something to help cure his boredom. Take him to see a movie! I’m sure he’d absolutely love that.

Why even pay for an extra seat. You could just hold him in your lap. ^_^….

The idea of carrying this man around by hugging him to you chest and letting him rest his chin on your shoulder…? It’s too much for me to bare. The heart palpitations it gives me… Christ.

Offer him somewhere better to sleep other than the coffin. I’m sure he would quite enjoy a chance to sleep in an actual bed again. You can pull him up into your chest and stroke his hair and I’m sure it would put him out like a light. But for once it would actually be a comfortable sleep.

Speaking of stroking his hair….. i just know this man would like it when you pet his hair or his shoulders. Any touch at all, as long as you’re not hurting him, i feel like he adores. I know there’s not much space to really touch- but i feel like he’d really like it if you rubbed that spot just between his shoulders on his back. And obviously, if you pet his ears he might make…. More unsavory noises. 👀👀

I know there’s gotta be an awful crick in his neck from the way he’s been laying in that coffin for years. If you rubbed his shoulders- or helped ease the tenseness of those muscles, he might think you’re god.

I don’t quite know how the biology works… if we were to eat something. I know he doesn’t need it to survive, obviously… but like I’m curious about the biology of if he can consume food at all.

But let’s just go off of the assumption that he can for this….

Imagine letting him try new foods or drinks, and gently spoon feeding him…. I don’t know why that’s just so soft? But- the thought of trailing your fingertips along his jaw as you spoon feed him… ugh… it’s so sugary sweet it makes me wanna vomit in the best was possible.

Ordering a milkshake or something and tenderly offering him the straw-….

I feel like if he likes you, he’s actually at least somewhat talkative… like… he can carry on a conversation.

He probably tells you a lot of stories from when he was an earl in Europe. They’re all like… shockingly interesting stories?!?

He’s a great listener, like… he genuinely is curious and interested in the stuff you have to talk about. Even if you think it’s boring, he’s literally been trapped in a dark box for years. Please… talk about anything and everything just don’t put him back.

He’s like… deathly attracted to your natural body heat. He himself is cold… constantly. Like his skin is just icy to the touch. But you’re just so warm.

He nuzzles into your shoulder and falls asleep there a lot. I also feel like if he’s comfortable with you, he would ask you to hold him so that he can sleep there.

Or if you need your hands and can’t just hold him there against you, he’ll ask if he can just rest his head on your thighs and sleep there.

All together i just feel like you CANNOT go wrong with dating this man. You just can’t. I know you guys can’t technically have sex…. But… maybe one day…. And I’m sure he really appreciates that you love him even without that additive.

But…. At the same time….

((N s f w below))

This man could eat… probably. Sit on his face. Go on. Do it. He’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just stroke his hair while you do it and he’s absolutely fine with letting you suffocate him to death with your thighs. I’m sure he likes being able to do that for you…. And he noises he can make you make with his tongue drive him crazy. He prays to god one day he can get his body back so he can absolutely plow you in the way that you deserve.

I wanna talk about bram stoker with somebody and i think I’ve made that stunningly clear

[queenxxxsupreme]

Omg what about the dad!witchers discussing baby names 🤭🤭

A/N: I have absolutley loved this ask since it came to me like forever ago!! But I couldn't think of scenarios for anyone other than Geralt/Bram!!! So for right now, here is Geralt's fic with where Bram's name comes from. Hopefully in the future I can get the others out :)

Warnings: pregnant reader

You smiled as you flipped through the book that rested on the table in front of you. Your fingertip trailed along the detail edging on the page, admiring the detail. 

The sound of the front door closing pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over momentarily to meet your husband’s gaze, smiling softly when he found your eyes. 

“Hello, darling.”

“Dove.”

“How was today’s market?” You closed the book. 

Geralt took his cloak off and hung it on the peg by the door. 

“Rather busy.”

You brushed your hand over the title, your heart swelling with an unnecessary amount of happiness. 

“Was Jaskier by? I can smell that gods awful perfume he wears.”

“He stopped in for a moment, but he had some errands to run.” You nodded. “Said he would be by later though. I rather like his perfume.”

“It’s potent.”

“It’s sweet.”

The witcher wrinkled his nose in disagreement. You smiled and patted the space at the table next to you. 

“Come see what he left for us.”

“If it’s another invitation to a banquet, I will pull my hair out.”

“I do miss going to those events with him.” You were mostly serious, but your tone was teasing. You knew your dear witcher wasn’t a fan of the formal functions his bard enjoyed. 

Geralt grumbled, pulling the chair out next to you. 

“But fear not, darling. It’s a gift for the baby.”

“Another gift? Every time he comes over, he has something.”

“He’s rather excited.” You placed your hand on Geralt’s arm. “But this…. This one is by far my favorite.”

You pushed the book over so that it was in front of Geralt. His brows drew together as he looked down at the object. 

“The White Wolf: The Adventures of Geralt of Rivia…. The fuck is this?”

“It’s a book containing all of the journeys you and Jaskier have been on.” You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips as you read the title page with him. The gold letters against the white cover were marvelous and definitely one of your favorite parts of the book. Just beneath the title was a carving of the medallion for the School of the Wolf. 

“Why?”

“Why? Because it’s exciting!”

“My travels with Jaskier shouldn’t be shared with the baby.” Geralt tried to get up but you stopped him, your hand reaching out for his arm. 

“Geralt, wait just a moment. At least look at what’s been done so far, please?”

Geralt sighed through his nose. 

“So far?”

“Jaskier has more he wants to add to it, but he wanted to have us take a look at it and maybe critique it if we want.”

“You want me to critique it?”

“I want you to sit down here and look at this book with me while I can still stand to sit in this uncomfortable chair.” You raised your brows just slightly. 

He gave in, returning to his seat with a displeased grumble. 

“What are you concerned about, love?” You turned towards him as best as you could. With your very pregnant stomach, it was hard to shift around on the wooden chairs too much. 

“You know what concerns me.” Geralt kept his eyes on the book. 

“But I would like for you to voice those concerns aloud.” You rubbed his arm. 

He said nothing for a few moments. After a few breaths, he finally spoke. 

“I don’t want the baby to know about what I’ve done.”

“You know Jaskier would never put anything in this book that you wouldn’t want in there.” You murmured. “After all, he is the one who has made the entire Continent come to know you as the White Wolf.”

“But I am the Butcher too.” Golden eyes flickered over to you. 

“Not to this baby, not to our child.” You smiled, shaking your head softly. “To our child, you are the White Wolf. A hero.”

Silently, Geralt leaned over to kiss your temple. 

“I was thinking of names earlier.” Your eyes found the book once more. “We know the baby is to be a boy. The midwife said so. I was thinking that…. that perhaps naming the baby after Jaskier wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

The corners of Geralt’s lips pulled up just a little as he watched you. When you looked up at him, taking his silence as hesitation, he looked away. 

“It is funny you say that…. When I had thought of names, that was the first thing I thought of when I thought of names for a boy.”

You smiled widely. 

“Not Jaskier, of course.” Geralt shook his head, making you laugh. 

“Julian is a lovely name.”

“It is, but it’s far to…. Aristocratic for us, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.” You hummed, placing one hand on your stomach. “Perhaps we can call the baby something else. By the second name, maybe?”

Geralt nodded his head in agreement.

“Hello, hello!” Jaskier opened the front door without a warning. 

“Hello, Jaskier.” You smiled at him. 

“My darling, you still look amazing. Ah! Geralt! What do you think of the book?” Jaskier took the mandolin off of his shoulder and placed it on the table. 

Geralt offered a low grumble, still unsure of the book. 

“Have you got a minute, Jaskier?” You asked.

“For you, darling, I have all the time in the world.”

“Come have a seat. I’ll get you tea.”

“Oh, I can do that–,”

“No, no.” You waved your hand dismissively at him as you stood to your feet. 

While you walked over to where the kettle was hanging over the fire, you absentmindedly rubbed your back. It was rather awful sitting in that wooden chair for so long. 

Before you could even reach for the kettle, Geralt was grabbing it himself. 

“Geralt! I said I could–,”

“I know.” He placed the kettle down on the wooden countertop. “I just don’t like you being so close to the fire.”

You placed your hand on his arm for a moment before he walked away to return to the table with Jaskier. 

You made tea for both of the men and yourself, then went to stand next to Geralt, finding it more comfortable to stand beside him rather than sit in that chair for one more second. Your hips couldn’t stand it. 

“We have something we’d like to share with you, Jaskier.” You smiled brightly.

“Is it good?”

“Yes. It’s in regards to the baby.”

Jaskier’s face lit up.

“Is it twins?”

“Oh, gods.” The witcher groaned. You rubbed his shoulder. 

“No, it isn’t.” You giggled. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Jaskier was far more excited than both you and your husband about the baby. “It’s about his name. As we know, it’s to be a boy. Geralt and I…. We’ve decided on a name.”

You paused, squeezing your husband’s shoulder just slightly. You wanted him to continue, to speak up. 

Geralt cleared his throat. 

“We’ve chosen to name him after you, Jaskier, to name him Julian.”

Jaskier looked between you both, unsure that he had heard correctly. The smile had fallen from his lips, replaced with a more solemn look. 

“Are-Are you sure? I mean, naming-naming your child– your firstborn nonetheless– is an important matter–,”

“We are positive, Jask.” Geralt cut him off. 

Jaskier stood from his seat, trying to fight back tears as he smiled, and moved to hug you both. 

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm

If your name is in italics, it wouldn't let me tag you :(

[emily-the-fae]

Ok so I have been in the interest area for some time

And I may have gotten interested in several Draculas

Here is a list of who I have on team:

5. Bram Stoker's Dracula

I mean come on, Gary Oldman in late Victorian era suits is just extremely handsome. The warrior that became a vampire: seductive, cruel, very nice when in love.

They were quite very bold when they named the movie "Bram Stoker's Dracula" to be honest - like, yes, it is very evident that they followed the author, but decided to add a more romantic plot with some Victorian sensuality. My personal opinion - they tried too hard: they wanted to fit their own storyline of Mina x Dracula love to the original Stoker story, while keeping up at least in the beginning to the author's stile of reading diaries and switching POVs in 2 hours of screentime - it did not go as smoothly as one might have wished, the time is obviously not enough, the story and character relationships are a bit rushed. Besides some characters were well... Lucy's lovers are a bit dumb - far worse than they were in the book and Lucy - ok I get it, you wanted to add eroticism, but not like that!!

In general not so bad. I like it, feels like a nice interpretation.

4. Netflix Dracula

Well, the storyline began as if it could have been Bram Stoker's, but proved to be very different from the original quite quickly. Another nice interpretation. Van Helsing is a female and a nun - that's quite an interesting change. (Seriously, I love the character, she's a big mood.)The modern versions of characters in 3rd episode seemed kinda cool too

Absolutely loved the idea of Dracula absorbing the memories and knowledge with blood, it's really cool. ( Can I please be a vampire too? I really need that for my studies!)

Claes Bang portrayal of the vampire seemed very impressive. Loved it - didn't expect to but loved it - it was the first Dracula movie I watched and it left me under a spell.

Plus the human-eating irony - Hannibal Lecter would have shook Dracula's hand for that, those two have a common sense of humour and aesthetic.

As with the previous one, I enjoyed the interpretation quite a lot.

3. Van Helsing

Well, in that one.

The story has almost nothing to do with the book, doesn't even try to, but the plot they made is exciting - the ancients old enemies concept and all that stuff. The gothic Transylvania/Budapest/Paris/wherever else they were depiction is lovely - it gives the viewer this sense of darkly beautiful atmosphere of vampire stories; soundtrack adds to the picture nicely.

Characters, well... Anna is cool if you look at her in terms of personal - keep up the family values and stuff. BUT a young lady wearing tight trousers in 19th century, are you kidding me??? I'm sorry, but that weirded me out a bit. Same with that moment when "oh I fell five meters and before that soaked under rain, look at my perfectly soft curls" - the female characters in that movie are a bit overly fancy for the time and the action genre - same with Dracula's brides, they're kind of cute, love their babies and Dracula, but why on Earth are they always half-naked?

Van Helsing has a bit of a younger and sadder Mad-Eye Moody vibe. "I kill monsters, although I do pity the humans that sit inside of them. These things need to die" - that kind of person. Hugh Jackman plays him nicely, I felt him very fit for the role - he and Dracula are basically what really saves the film and makes it interesting.

Dracula here is just.. I mean aw. He's hot. He's got a nice accent, he turns into some flying half bat thing that looks hella cool, and he removes his cape in such an extremely graceful gesture that it makes one faint. Love that guy.

(+ the ballroom dance scene was very sensual and gothic, it was one of the reasons I started watching the movie)

2. Dracula Untold

The story of medieval Dracula and how he came to be a vampire - to protect his people and his family. Politics, love, monsters and broken dates. That movie has a great plot and some points which make you stop and wonder (oh do I love the quotes of those "sometimes the world doesn't need another hero, sometimes what it needs is a monster" and of that sort, just beautiful)

It is kind of tragic, but it has a bright side to it, I am extremely grateful to the authors for what they did to the ending.

And Dracula himself well... Luke Evans is just gorgeous in the role. The ultimate strong warrior vampire - a monster to his enemies and a loving husband and father to his family. Dracula redeemed. This one is sweet.

1. Castlevania

Aaaand here we go on my favourite one. If you don't mind watching anime and you love vampires/gothic stuff - you're probably gonna enjoy this. I did. I loved it: the plot, the characters, their relationship, the whole concept of the vampire community and Dracula the vampire King, their motivations. It's catching, it's mesmerizing, it charmed and drew me in (read: I cried and wailed together with my friend, this left me a trauma, I had to write a big fanfic to make up for the pain).

Main characters - Adrian, Sypha and Tevor are a bit Ron, Harry and Hermione but they are a lovely trio, I love the tension between Trevor and Adrian. Very loveable characters, and I dare say quite well written.

And, well, Dracula. Excuse me, this one is my personal favourite. I mean - a beautiful castle, that is moved by some cool mechanisms to wherever Dracula pleases, an enormous library with all the forgotten knowledge of the world. Dracula himself is extremely well-educated, well-mannered, THE gentleman (and yeah well 8ft tall but let's skip that bit). I love that character he is in so much pain I want to hug him and cuddle him into warm blankets. He is a sweetheart.

So that was a short attempt of a person who is terrible at criticizing stuff to write some film reviews. In case anyone is interested. And for me to reassemble my journey into the vampire world.

[waterisntreal]

A comprehensive ranking of Love, Victor characters from worst to best

inspired by @actualdpshuri‘s post

31. Victor’s Grandpa

-Homophobic™

-Sexist

-probably racist

-is to much of a coward to yell at gay people himself and tries to get his grandson to do it for him

30. Victor’s Grandma

-Mother-in-law™

-judgy af

-Boomer

29. Georgina (Lake’s Mom)

-fake bitch

-terrible mother

-like really just an awful mom

-puts way too much pressure on her daughter

28. Harold (Mia’s Dad)

-leaves his probably 16 year old daughter home alone 90% of the time

-does this despite said daughter clearly having abandoment issues

-pressured his ex-wife to get married and have a kid

-didn’t tell his daughter that he was engaged and was having a kid

27. Armando (Victor’s Dad)

-homophobic

-claims to have forgiven his wife for cheating on him but clearly hasn’t

-but he does know that sometimes bitches deserve to get slapped

26. Isabel (Victor’s Mom)

-cheated

-forces her son to be a parent eventhough he is fucking 16

-seems fake

25. Derek

-Asshole™

-very bad boyfriend

-makes fun of his boyfriend for being romantic

-probably voted for Trump

24. Guy who bought the last tres leches cake

-called his wife’s sister shrill

-tried to defend his point

-but he did try to get his wife an apology cake

-and got robbed (kind of)

23. Sara

-bitchy

-Victor and Benji don’t like her 

22. Coach Ford

-probably not a good coach 

-isn’t in the groupchat

-isn’t nice to his players

-tries to make his players pay an unreasonable amount of money

21. Felix’s mom

-Depressed (which is a mood)

-tries to make her son happy even if it is not in the best ways

-hoarder

20. Ms. Albright

-mean to students

-talks about Simon to random students

-doesn’t seem like she is good at her job

19. Jenny

-over shares a lot

-just wanted the olive garden gift card

18. Ms. Thomas

-sad dating life (mood)

-uses her students to make herself feel less lonely

-mildly funny

17. Ivy

-cool

-bad at keeping secrets

16. Teddy

-can’t spell (mood™)

-jock

-kind of a bully

15. Kieran

-likes bossy women (mood)

-goes to therapy

-way too tall

-likes fantasy football

14. Veronica

-seems chill

-is nice to mia eventhough mia isn’t nice to her

-is engaged to harold

-was ok with harold not telling mia about the engagment and the baby

13. Wendy

-is not a great actor

-very dramatic

-is confident enough to ask a guy she isn’t friends with on a date

-is chill when her date ditches her

-is ditched by her date

12. Lake

-I know y’all hate her but I like her so deal with it

-character development

-very pretty

-self-esteem issues (mood)

-bitchy

11. Andrew

-Growth™

-kind of an asshole

-bully is soft on the inside trope

-also I really like the suit that he wore to the spring fling and I want it

10. Benji

-Romantic™

-very cute

-kissed a guy with a girlfriend

-doesn’t have much of a personality

9. Justin

-feminine

-lewks

-ex-mormon

-obligatory sterotypical gay guy is there to teach nonsterotypical gay protagonist about the queer community (I’m looking at you Skam)

8. Victor

-very sweet

-he is my child

- jock

-forced to be a parent as a 16 year old

-did cheat on his girlfriend

7. Pilar

-Gorgeous™

-strong female character

-would punch a cop

6. Mia

-I love her and would marry her

-deserved better

-abandonment issues (mood)

-sad rich girl trope

5. Kim

-the only canon nonbinary rep in this show

-literally their on characteristic is being nonbinary

4. Felix

-drinks anti-toxic masculinity juice

-great for projecting on

-Good Friend™

-of course the straight white best friend is written as a nicer person than the poc gay main character

3. Simon

-Adoptive Parent™

-suprisingly good at giving advice

-still wears the iconic jean jacket

-got better friends

2. Adrian

-has never done anything wrong in his life

-Adorable™

-but he doesn’t like baby shark

1. Bram

-was my favorite in Love, Simon and still is my favorite

-somehow both soft and strong at the same time

-Keiynan Lonsdale is iconic

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 32

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 32 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 32/? SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.

[A/N - For being patient with me, you’ll be getting two chapters this weekend. One today and one tomorrow.]

The Doctor woke up to voices whispering. He pulled himself from under the wreckage of the TARDIS and approached the three men.

“It's rude to whisper. Hi. I'm the Doctor. And you are…?” He examined the names on the men’s jackets. “Er, Van Baalen and Van Baalen. Van Baalen and Van Baalen. That's going to get confusing later.”

“We found you drifting,” Van Baalen said.

“Yeah, your ship was junked up pretty bad,” the other Van Baalen said.

“What broke my ship was a Magno-Grab. Found this remote in your pocket.” The Doctor held up the remote. “Eh? What are the chances? Outlawed in most galaxies, this little beastie can disable whole vessels unless you have shield oscillators, which I turned off so that Clara could fly. Dammit.”

He paused for a moment, realizing Clara was with him. “Clara. Where is she? Girl, about so high. Feisty. She's still on board. Along with Elise!”

Elise hadn’t been the control room with them, so there was no telling where she was in the ship.

The Doctor ran towards the TARDIS, but the third man grabbed his arm.

“No, wait. Your pod is leaking fuel. If they’re still in here, they’re dead.” By the way he spoke, it was obvious he was an android.

The Doctor looked around and saw respirators. “Ah, respirators.” He ran over them.

“We can open the doors for a split second, reach in and grab her,” Van Baalen said.

“Trust me, we can't. Now please, help me get them out.”

“I'm telling you, she fried…” the android said.

“Shut it, tin mouth,” Van Baalen snapped, “What sort of fee are we talking?”

“If you help me get her out, you get the machine, all the scrap, eh?” the Doctor suggested.

“It's not worth the risk. Four feet of metal? Nah,” the other Van Baalen said.

“What if I can guarantee you the best haul you've ever had?”

“Bram, open the bay doors,” Van Baalen told him.

“No, no. Please, stop. Listen, listen. Right behind those doors is the salvage of a lifetime.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elise woke up on the floor of her room. She was lying in her bed when there was a loud bang. Her room was bathed in red light and the cloister bell was ringing.

“Well this is not good.”

She picked herself up off the floor and left her room. Elise gasped when she saw the condition the TARDIS was in.

Cables hung from the ceiling and wreckage was scattered along the floor. Her poor blue box.

Elise snapped out of it. She needed to focus if she was going to find Clara and her father. She couldn’t afford to be scared at a time like this. She needed to be brave. Elise walked towards a bulkhead door.

A red light was flashing above the door.

“Okay, not going that way.” She knew better than to try and open that door.

The TARDIS just wanted to protect her inhabitants.

Elise turned around and started walking back down the corridor. “Clara! Dad!”

Long scratch marks covered the walls. What the hell was going on?

Elise heard a loud growl and carefully turned around, seeing a burnt creature. She screamed and started running.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, are we really going to risk it?” Bram asked, “That thing is spewing poison. We should blow it back into space.”

“Get your gear,” Van Baalen told him.

“Hey, I don't take orders from my kid brother.”

“Don't try and form sentences, all right? Stick to what you do best.”

“Tell me, since when does an android need a blast suit and a respirator?” the Doctor asked, watching the android put gloves on.

“Flesh coating, same as us. He'd burn up,” Bram explained.

“No fear, no hate, no pain,” the android said.

The Doctor put on his respirator and walked over to the TARDIS, unlocking it.

“Salvage of a lifetime?” Van Baalen asked.

“I feel pretty confident I can deliver on that. Here we go.”

The doors opened and smoke poured out.

They entered the TARDIS.

“I don't get it. I thought she was lying on her side,” Van Baalen said.

“The TARDIS is special. She has her own gravity. I'd explain if I had some charts and a board pen,” the Doctor told him.

“It's…it's…it's bigger…”

“On the inside. Do you know, I get that a lot.”

“Whoa. Awesome,” the android said in awe.

“Well put. Whoa and awesome.” He turned a dial and the smoke disappeared. “Safe to breathe.”

They removed their respirators and the Doctor scanned the area with the sonic screwdriver. “Okay, now, the last thing I remember, you were right there. Come on, Clara, talk to me.”

“How big is this baby?” Bram asked.

“Picture the biggest ship you've ever seen. Are you picturing it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now forget it, because this ship is infinite.”

“It could take you hours to find your crew,” Van Baalen said.

“Days. Plus this whole place is toxic. Clara could be dead by the time I reach her. As for Elise, she’s already died once under my watch and I’m not about to let that happen again. So, here's the mission. We're going to find them in one hour.”

“We?”

“You're my guys for this.”

“That wasn't the deal.”

“'Tis now.”

“What makes you think we'll help?” Bram asked.

The Doctor threw two levers and a countdown appeared on the monitor. “I just activated the TARDIS self-destruct system. One hour until this ship blows.”

Bram ran for the door, only to have it slam shut in his face.

“Don't try to leave. The TARDIS is in lockdown. I'll open those doors when Clara and Elise are by my side.”

“You crazy lunatic!” Bram yelled.

“My ship, my rules!”

“You'll kill us all. And the girls,” Van Baalen told him.

“They’re going to die if you don't help me. Don't get into a spaceship with a madman. Didn't anyone ever teach you that? Okay, a little gently persuasion. Say thirty minutes.” The Doctor pressed a button and it jumped down to thirty minutes.

“She'll die even quicker now!” Bram yelled.

“We all perform better under pressure. Anybody want to go for fifteen minutes?”

His finger hovered above the button and everyone protested. “It's your own time you're wasting. Salvage of a lifetime. You meant the ship. I meant Clara and Elise. Oh and should I mention, Elise also happens to be my daughter? Never underestimate the lengths I would go to to keep her safe. There is nothing more dangerous than a protective father.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Clara ran into a room. She was shocked to find it was a child’s nursery.

There were toys scattered along the floor. Was this Elise’s old room?

A row of bookshelves sat along the wall. She walked over to them and picked up a book.

“To: Clarice. Love: The Doctor.”

Clarice? Who was Clarice?

Clara turned around and there were two beds and a cradle.

The beds had circular writing on the foot of them, much like the symbols in the control room. On the cradle, the writing was on the side.

A picture sat on the bedside table of one of the beds. Clara picked it up and saw a family.

The father was tall, dark, and handsome with dark hair and blue eyes. The woman, with brown hair and hazel eyes, stood beaming with a baby in her arms. It was a boy by the looks of it, with green eyes and dark brown hair. He kinda looked like what Clara would imagine the Doctor looked like as a child. Standing in front of the man and woman were two girls. One had brown hair and blue eyes, while the other one had black hair and violet eyes.

Who was this family? And why did they have a room on the TARDIS?

Something in the room growled and Clara ran out. As she was running, she collided with Elise. “Elise! Oh my god!” Clara threw her arms around the Timelord.

“Clara? What happened?” Elise asked her.

Clara explained while they explored the TARDIS.

Elise rolled her eyes. “Of course that would happen.”

They eventually came to the control room.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Clara cheered. She ran to the console and placed a kiss on it.

“Um, Clara,” Elise said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think this is the control room.”

“Why?”

Elise pointed at the wall. “No door. This must be a copy room.”

“No. You can't do this!”

“Obviously the TARDIS showed us this room because it’s important. Despite what you might think Clara, the TARDIS just wants her inhabitants to be safe.”

“No, I’m going to find a way out.” Clara turned to leave.

“Clara! Wait!” Elise ran after her, only for the TARDIS to show them the same control room.

“Oh, why are you doing this?” Clara whined.

“Because we need to be here! She’s trying to keep us safe!”

The two girls screamed when a piece of metal appeared in the control room.

“What’s happening?” Clara asked.

“Just stay calm, Clara. He’ll find us and save us. He always does.”

Clara ran over to a door and pressed the button.

The burnt creature was standing there.

She screamed and ran back to the console.

The girls ran around the console, avoiding the creature.

“Who are you?” Clara asked.

“Why does it matter! It wants to kill us!” Elise yelled at her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tricky and the Doctor ran into a control room. “Back where we started,” Tricky said.

The Doctor ran to the console. “No, it's an echo. The console room is the safest place on the ship. It can replicate itself any number of times. It's trying to protect us,” the Doctor told him.

“Because I tried to give back the circuit?”

“Team TARDIS.” The Doctor rummaged around and a piece of metal fell.

Only it didn’t hit the floor. It completely disappeared.

“Where did…where did that go?” Tricky asked.

“There's more than one echo room. Hey, look, look.” Two shadows appeared on the console. “The TARDIS has got Clara and Elise safe. That was them. That was them there.” The Doctor kissed his hands and pressed them to the rotor. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” This Elise would not die on his watch.

“But why…why can’t we see her?” Tricky asked.

“It's like a light switch. Two positions, flickering at super-infinite speeds. We're only together for a brief second. Shush.”

They could hear Clara panting and Elise trying to reassure her.

“I can hear them.”

They heard Elise and Clara scream and a loud growl.

“She's let it in. She's let it in!” Tricky yelled.

“If I can just isolate their position, I can nudge the alternation, reach in and grab them.”

“Console room, echo imprint of the original,” they heard.

“You're coming with me. I need you to get me out of here,” Gregor said, grabbing Tricky.

The Doctor soniced Gregor’s computer.

“Scanning for female human. Scanning for female descendant. Scanning for female human. Scanning for female descendant. Unidentified human.”

They moved closer to the doors.

“It doesn't know Lancashire and of course it won’t recognize Elise.”

“What?” Gregor asked.

“It doesn't know sass. Yes! It's found Clara and Elise. It's found them. They’re right there.”

Clara and Elise partially appeared. The Doctor grabbed them and pulled them through. The Doctor hugged Clara. “It's all right. Clara, I'm so, so sorry. Sorry. Please, please forgive me, Clara.”

Clara hit him on the arm.

“Ow! Okay, so we're not doing hugging. I get that now.”

Elise, however, threw her arms around his neck.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He kissed her head, thanking whatever gods existed that she was okay.

[hauntedlamb]

I was wondering what is your favourite horror film 🤔

This such a hard question for me since i love so many ..... I can’t pick just one 😬

But here’s a few of my most loved ones-

The original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (a classic and an obvious choice, not a fan of any of the remakes/reboot, but i do also love TCM2 a lot. Anything after that doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned 😤)

House of 1000 Corpses (duh, anyone who’s been following me for even a small length of time knows about my absolute obsession with Otis 🙄)

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (the 1992 one with Gary Oldman and Winona Ryder. Not sure if it’s really a ‘horror’ movie per se, but a lot of people seem to categorise it as one. As you probably know i love vampires A LOT so this is an obvious choice for me, and also the film that kickstarted my fetish for vampires. Oops 😬 )

I also love Crimson Peak, Hostel (i know i have awful taste, don’t come for me 😤), Rosemary’s baby, The VVitch, Friday the 13th (again, not so much the remakes) and the original Carrie. There’s loads more that i love but those are all i can currently think of off the top of my head 😅🖤

[laemony]

What I’ve read in 2019!

2017    2018

Hello! Welcome back to the appointment I’m sure every one of you was waiting since last year (heavy sarcasm)! Fasten your seat belts, it’s gonna be a long ride..

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA, Michail Bulgakov - one of the greatest books I’ve ever read, it has become one of my favourites in a few chapters; I loved the characters, out of their minds the lot of them, I loved this Devil, so nice and generous; I mostly loved the completely natural way with which Bulgakov tells absurd facts; a comedy, but much more than that too. 9.5/10 

HEART OF A DOG, Michail Bulgakov - I’m in awe at his style, he’s different from other russian authors; it’s problavly the irony, the grotesque characters, the unusual portrait of life in Moscow after the revolution; I don’t know, but I love it; this book was one weird experience, but I wasn’t really surprised. 8.5/10

THE WAVES, Virginia Woolf - is it a dialogue? is it a pure flow of thoughts? sometimes it seems they’re talking to each other, sometimes it seems everyone’s just thinking by themselves, sometimes it seems both and neither; one moment everything is beautiful, the next life is a horrible mess; is it a novel? I don’t know, it all felt like one big poem and I loved every minute of it. 10/10

NORTHANGER ABBEY, Jane Austen -  one of the most frustrating books I've ever read, but I really really liked it; the characters are some various degrees of DRAMA and it’s honestly hilarious to watch; for me, it had the bonus of an unexpected final, idk why really, but I thought it would end differently; cute and so aesthetically pleasing as usual. 7/10

THE BOOK OF DISQUIET, Fernando Pessoa - very well written, I love how each sentence is built and the rhytm of it all, but there’s a hopelessness in the background and maybe I was relating overly, but I don’t want to think too much about what this book says. 8/10

THE BELL JAR, Sylvia Plath - I felt angry with every single character and I don’t like feeling so much while I read a book. I liked it tho, even if I honestly don’t know why. It almost feels wrong to like this book. It got me out of the slump I found myself in during summer screaming and kicking, and I can’t forget that. 8/10

FRANKENSTEIN, Mary Shelley - I’m in awe at the fact that she wrote this book when she was 19; it was everything I thought it’d be, and more. I could find no sympathy for the creature, nor for Viktor (he is so stupid); the atmosphere was heavy, dark, and as miserable as every character (except Henry, poor baby boy I love him), it felt absolutely perfect. 9/10

DRACULA, Bram Stoker - where to begin.. the first 12 or so chapters were very, very, slow, and the style was a bit tiring to me, with all those diaries and notes. BUT, except for that and the vague misogyny that comes out at times, IT IS  a great book, a great horror. I loved the Count, finally a villain who’s evil just because, and Mina too, when she wasn’t occupied wondering at how amazing men are and how little women deserve them. She’s never the damsel in distress waiting to be saved, she’s almost more the knight in shining armour.. I’ll shut up, I loved it. 8/10

MADAME BOVARY, Gustave Flaubert - I thought only Wuthering Heights could have had characters so unbearable, but turns out I was wrong. There isn’t a single good person in this book, everyone is either an asshole or a hopeless idiot.. it’s a tragedy, it actually reminded me of Shakespeare, in a sense; everything could be easily solved if people would just talk to eachother. I honestly don’t know if I liked it, it had potential but was a bit boring, it mostly made me angry. 6/10

PARADISE LOST, John Milton - I was probabli in the wrong mood for this, it was November after all, and I must say, it bored me to no end. Really, it didn’t leave me anything except a great relief when I read the last words. I liked a lot the parts where the author spoke, I recoiled every time the others had a dialogue (except, maybe, surprisingly or not, for Satan)... growing up as a woman in a christian family does this to one I guess. 5/10

THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV, Fëdor Dostoevskij - to be honest, I’m posting this without having finished the book, I still have five chapters or so to read, but I don’t have a doubt when I say: I love it. Idk if it’s the AMAZING, INCREDIBLE job the translator(s?) have done but this story goes on so smoothly, not once I felt bored, not once I felt uncomfortable with the style, not once I felt like I wasn’t fully understanding what was going on. It’s so well written that at times I had the impression of being inside the head of the characters, like I was the characters. Idk I haven’t felt like this in a very long time, I knew how he wrote, I’ve read others of his books, but it still caught me by surprise and I can’t say I’m not delighted by it. 10/10 

Theatre & Short Stories

THE WINTER’S TALE, William Shakespeare - it was weird, it put me in such an anxious state, at some point I thought everything was going to end in tragedy; my man never cease to surprise me. 8/10

TITUS ANDRONICUS, William Shakespeare - ok..so... I was angry with everyone, I couldn’t feel any sympathy for anyone, except for Lavinia; I honestly don’t know what William was thinking, I don’t know if I should love it or be horrified by it... complete madness it is. 9/10

MEASURE FOR MEASURE, William Shakespeare - let’s say, I’ve always preferred the tragedies, but, as Ju once wisely said, women in Billy’s comedies are simply great; that’s true even in this, Isabella is amazing while everyone else is just.. meh... I can’t shake off the feeling that mr.Duke was bored and decided to cause some useless drama, it’s all very shakesperean. 7/10

THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH, Edgar Allan Poe - do you need a short tale to tell at sleepovers? Do you need a horror story for Halloween night? This is perfect. Short, to the point, fast and terrifying.. or maybe that’s just me and my fear of pendulum clocks lol. 7/10

Poetry

Emily Dickinson - at some points it bored me, at some others I had to stop reading to take a few steading breaths; lovely and so powerful. 8/10

Edgar Allan Poe - not a fan of the man himself, but his poetry is just my kind, you know? it’s so full of love and darkness; I love the rhymes, I love the rhythm. idk, I liked it a lot. 8,5/10

[hvandenbrg-archive]

Have you seen HARRY VANDENBERG? This THIRTY-SIX year old is a NYPD OFFICER who resides in MANHATTAN. HE has been living in NYC for A YEAR, and is known to be RESILIENT and PROTECTIVE but can also be ARROGANT and VOLATILE, if you cross them.  People tend to associate them with EXTREME SPORTS and 3AM SNACK RUNS.

hi everyone!! i’m gabs and i am awful at introducing myself?? but some basic things: baby yoda saved my life and spider-man is the loml. what else is there to know!! nothing as important as those two things! anyway, let me introduce you to harry, cecelia’s former bodyguard and current fiancé! 

also feel free to like this and i’ll message you for some plots!! xoxo

about —

full name: harry bram vandenberg age: 36 birthday: august 9, 1983 (leo) sexual orientation: heterosexual gender: cis male pronouns: he/his

bio — tw: cheating

harry has a younger brother and a half sister. his parents divorced when he was ten, his father re-married and had one more kid, a girl. there was no drama between his parents, though... at least as far as the children could tell. they were civil in front of them, which is what mattered. harry and his siblings have always been friendly, even if the youngest wasn’t around as much, living with her mother and such.

he was born in brighton, england (his parents were on a ‘last vacation before the baby comes’, and he just happened to be born during said vacation) but was raised in birmingham, he did not move out of his mother’s home until he was 16. he decided to skip sixth form, and join the british army. after a lot of testing and training (and a handsome payment for said training), harry made it into the infantry as a guardsman.

harry was deployed to bermuda for his very first peacekeeping and training mission days before his 18th birthday. 

after returning home from bermuda, harry started a relationship with an old neighbor, and good friend, that led to their marriage 3 years later, when harry was 21. 

while they had a good relationship for a decent amount of time, things began to get complicated after harry was deployed to afghanistan for 8 months, and a year after that, he was deployed to libya for 5 months, both peacekeeping missions. his wife did not like this at all, understandably so, but it went to the extreme where she would accuse him of cheating on her over the months when he was away. this took a toll on their relationship, as nothing harry said or did would convince her that her allegations were false. because they were.

after 12 years of service, harry decided to move from active duty to reserve, easing his way out of the military despite his love for the role he served — because he wanted to show his partner how loyal he really was. this, however, did not work, and their relationship crumbled even more. 

harry landed a security job in london with the royal family, of all people, and this was the turn he thought his married life needed, as his wife seemed elated to move to the big capital. this glee, however, didn’t last very long; a year into his new job the accusations of cheating began again. now, according to her, he was cheating with diplomats and princesses and so on, so forth. he couldn’t stand it anymore.

sooner than later, something in harry broke and he decided to give his wife what she so desperately wanted. she wanted him to be a cheater, so he became one. it started with one of the maids in the palace, then a nanny, then a personal assistant. and when he finally confronted his wife about it, he knew it was the end. she filed for divorce immediately, citing “irreconcilable differences” as the cause.

some unrelated logistic issues at the palace had made harry’s job somewhat difficult, but things stabilized once he was assigned to be princess cecelia’s husband’s bodyguard. harry had never liked cecelia. she seemed spoiled, air-headed. and the things her husband said about her only fueled these thoughts. however, said thoughts went away as he spent more time with the couple, and some, erm, tension built between them — which ended up exploding into a full-fledged affair. an affair that went way further than harry expected it to; he wasn’t expecting falling in love with her, with her children, and just... anything that involved cecelia. 

so when she came to him with the news — she was pregnant. with his child. his divorce wasn’t even finalized, but he did not care. it was just a matter of time, right? 

when cecelia decided to move to new york following the divorce, harry knew he had to go with her. he requested to be assigned as her bodyguard, which was granted. their secret was safe, and he would be able to move with her.

when it came to revealing their relationship and his paternity to the public, harry was the one with most loose ends to fix. he had to get his divorce settled and secure a new job before the baby was born. the divorce part was the hardest of both, but it was resolved in the end. job-wise, harry needed to find a new job before the truth came out, as he wouldn’t last long in the United States without one, as a holder of a work visa. Thankfully, the NYPD took him in almost immediately after his application went through, and he’s been in the force ever since.

headcanons —

harry loves extreme sports and combat sports. rock-climbing is a big passion of his, boxing a close second. 

he loves portraying himself as a MANLY MAN but ya boy cried at the end of toy story 3. he also cried when his son, theo, was born.

speaking of theo, henry was terrified of becoming a father. but he got some practice with jack and penny, so he thought he was out of the woods. tiny humans? easy! however, he was not expecting just how difficult caring for a miniature human would be. he still loves it, though. theo is his pride and joy.

he owns a collection of little trinkets he got from his different deployments, all in a shoebox. get a scrapbook, ya fool. 

HOLY FISH CRACKERS. that was long af!! if you read any of this, please accept my undying love right here right now xoxo and hmu for plots! 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Broken Like Me (Part 9) - Dean’s Better Day

Summary: Dean talks to the reader about what happened the night before and why he was feeling the way he did...

Masterlist

Pairing: Model!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language

Saturday

You woke up to a few fingers lightly tracing over your cheek, moving the hair out of your face. You blinked your eyes open a few times, Dean giving you a small smile from where he lay beside you.

“Hey,” you said, catching his hand and pulling it to your chest.

“Hey,” he said, looking down, forcing his gaze to meet yours. “You have really cute bedhead.”

“You too,” you said, Dean shutting his eyes, tucking himself into you again. You moved your arm around his waist, Dean a million times better than the night before but if he needed another cuddle, you weren’t stopping him.

“I’m hungry,” he said after you felt yourself starting to drift asleep again. You popped open your eyes and leaned over, kissing his forehead.

“I imagine. You didn’t eat much yesterday,” you said. You rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a cup of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.”

He swallowed it down and then another one, looking a bit more bashful as he was waking up.

“Today I’m taking care of you. You have to tell me if you need something, alright?” you asked.

“You don’t think I’m pathetic?” he asked, staring up at you with big green eyes, like the answer carried too much weight.

“No, Dean. I don’t think that,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Brush your teeth and put on clean clothes. Come downstairs when you’re finished up please.”

“Okay,” he said, grabbing his bag and going to the bathroom. You threw on something comfortable and headed downstairs, thankfully finding enough things to whip up a few omelettes. Dean rubbed his stomach when he came in, a new pair of gray sweats and a black henley on. “Smells great.”

“S’almost done if you want to grab yourself a drink,” you said. Dean shuffled around the kitchen, pouring a few glasses of orange juice. You dished up the eggs and set a plate down, urging him to sit while you got the utensils. He polished his off fast and you gave him part of yours, ruffling his hair while you cleaned up the dishes.

“We should talk,” he said.

“Go find a comfy spot on the couch. I’ll be in there in two seconds, I promise,” you said with a smile. Dean made his way to the family room while you grabbed a few bottles of water and bag of trail mix, bringing it with you to the family room and setting it on the end table. You tossed a blanket over Dean and got one for yourself as you settled in next to him, turning on the TV to something quiet and mindless. Dean rested his head on your shoulder and your laced your fingers together with his.

“Yesterday was a bad day,” he said. “I was fighting with my dad again. I went over for lunch and we got in an argument and he said I need to grow the fuck up and get a real job and I wasn’t welcome anymore until I did. The information wasn’t like, new or anything. We’ve had this fight before. But then that other model dude said crap about the way I look and I thought he was right and then I thought dad was right and how much of a loser was I and I was a disappointment and I let everyone down. Then I thought about you and I almost called you because I thought, I knew, you’d make me feel better but I didn’t want to bother you and that was a bad idea because I just let all that build up in my head until I was convinced no one gave a shit, including you and I know that’s not true but I just felt like I was going to explode. I felt awful because I knew we were supposed to have a date and then I didn’t want to go because I thought you’d realize you made a mistake with me and you’d dump me and I couldn’t handle that so I went to Dr. Bram’s.

“So I was having a bit of a freakout session there and he was trying to understand everything about what was going on since we haven’t talked lately but then he left and came back and said you were outside for me if I needed you. I lost it at that. Because that meant I was so wrong about you and that you cared about me too. I figured I’d be okay, I heard you up and walking around a few times but you never left and I talked to Dr. Bram for a long time about my family and you and how you’re one of the few people that never judged me and you let me in when if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t have had the guts. I know you’re so much stronger than me and I just knew I could be okay if you let me be with you. I know that’s too fucking much. We’ve been dating like a month, not even, and it’s not fair to you but I can only bother Sammy so much and I know he loves me because he’s my brother but you could walk away whenever you wanted but you didn’t and you’re still here even though I’ve been blabbering for a good five minutes and I know I cried all over you last night but you’re taking care of me and no one’s ever done that,” he said. He wiped his sleeve across his face, taking a tissue from you when you handed it over and then another, fisting the fabric over his hands as he sniffled.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” you said. Dean tilted his head up, his face unreadable. “And I don’t think I realized it until last night but I am. I never want to see you hurt like that again. It hurts and I don’t know how to stop it and I wish you got along with your dad but Dean, you are a grown up. He doesn’t hold any power over you. I know you want his approval but if he’s going to beat you down until you feel like this, I want you to stay away from him, at least for a little while. I want you to feel better first.”

“I don’t think I’m falling in love with you,” he said. You felt a lump in your throat, Dean’s hand on your cheek. He leaned over and planted a big one on you, his lips salty and swollen and more forceful than normal. “I know I am.”

“Can I revise my previous statement to say I was being a chicken shit just then and I am too?” you said. Dean chuckled and smiled, pulling you in for a kiss again. “I thought you were always so soft with your kisses.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

“That’s okay. I kind of liked it,” you said, giving him a smile. “I’m going to call Sam and let him know you’re doing a bit better. Then I’ll come back and we can spend the whole weekend together on this couch eating takeout. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” he said with a big smile. “Thank you.”

Saturday Night

“Okay, pizza, pizza. What pizza to order…” you said, handing Dean a menu, staring at one yourself. You had a pretty lazy day, spent in sweats and blankets with hot chocolate, watching the rain on the dreary December day and rom-coms non stop.

It’s was a completely unproductive day but for Dean and you, it was a good one. You knew more about his insecurities, about his problems with his family, about the way he viewed himself. His self-worth wasn’t very high, something he kept hidden fairly well but you opened up to him about your own because of it. You didn’t get into details but he understood and it was like a weight was off you both.

You trusted each other more than ever before.

“Let’s order one cheese and one with everything,” he said.

“Oh, we’re going all out. Fancy,” you said, standing to find your phone to order.

“Only the best for my girl,” he teased. You were gone a few minutes, returning to find Dean passed out on the couch. You sat down next to him, Dean still out, only shifting a little to rest his head on your shoulder.

“I know. Last night took a lot out of you,” you said quietly. “I’ve been there.”

You let Dean have a short nap until the doorbell rang and woke him. He stumbled over to the front door and paid, back with a smile as he carried the pizza boxes into the family room.

“Feeling like you can face the world again?” you asked. He hummed, sitting down before he wrapped his arms around you and tackled you onto the couch, giving you a big, wet kiss. “Dean!”

“Thank you for today...and yesterday. I really needed a lazy day to get my head on straight,” he said.

“Any time,” you said, leaning up and throwing your arms around the back of his neck. You pulled him back into the kiss, Dean chuckling against your cheek.

“I like playful you,” he teased, giving you another, more heated kiss.

“Calm down, we don’t want our food to get cold after all,” you said with a giggle. He sat up and pulled you with him. Quickly he was settled into what he now claimed as “his” side of the couch, a few pieces of pizza piled on a plate in his lap.

As you ate together, you watched him start to get withdrawn again though, Dean subtly shifting away from you on the couch after you’d put away the leftovers.

“Hm,” you hummed, scooting over to him, wrapping your arm around his back and around his waist, giving him a side hug.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You looked like you were trying to run away from me,” you said.

“It’s getting late. I should go home,” he said, not making an attempt to move.

“Do you want to go home? Not what you feel like you should do but what do you want?” you asked.

“I want to stay again,” he said.

“Then stay. I won’t ever kick you out,” you said.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked.

“Always.”

Dean slept like a baby that night, far more relaxed in bed beside you. You knew his problems with his dad weren’t gone but hopefully the next time he started to feel this way, he would come to you.

Sunday was again a lazy day, Dean even asking if Sam could come over. Sam didn’t pry or budge and treated Dean normally, Dean silently giving him thankful looks at not pressing him for anything. You made sure he was comfortable without you being there before you ran out to a few stores, grabbing some much needed groceries.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Sam when you got back. “Dean and I were talking and Christmas is in like a week and he sort of said since you aren’t getting along with your parents right now, would you want to have Christmas with us?” asked Sam.

“Hey, I was gonna ask her,” said Dean, shuffling into the kitchen, helping you put some things away.

“I’d love to,” you said, looking at Dean.

“Oh, don’t tell me you never had one of those either,” he said, frowning as he held a box of Cheerios.

“I’ve had Christmas before but...it’s like, we don’t decorate or do anything besides open presents that everyone talked about beforehand. It never seemed like we did it right,” you said.

“Well,” said Dean, glancing at Sam. “Sam and I talked and I’m going to try to make up with my dad this afternoon. If I can’t, us three will have our own Christmas. No drama, just a good time.”

“That sounds like a plan. I’d like you to wait until tomorrow night though, after…” you said.

“Dr. Bram’s? That’s probably a good idea,” said Dean. “I can talk through it first.”

“When you go over, I’m going too. I’m telling dad to knock it off,” said Sam.

“Okay. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day before World War three starts.”

Monday Night

It was six. Sam was home from work and Dean was back from Dr. Bram’s. He seemed confident and knew what he wanted to say. You figured it’d be easier if they called their parents and asked to have dinner, make it less confrontational.

Dean thought having you there might make a fight less likely but honestly, you knew he wanted you there in case things went south.

“Hi mom,” said Sam, walking inside. She greeted the three of you, graciously taking the sweet bread you’d made for dinner. John was watching TV in another room and Dean steered clear of him until Mary was ushering you all around the kitchen table.

“How was work Sam?” asked Mary, knowing a majority of the people at that table didn’t want to be there.

“Good. We wrapped up our big case. Just a bit of paperwork left but I should be able to take a few weeks off for the holidays with no problem,” said Sam, taking a bite of his chicken.

“Y/N how’s that work with you working from home? Do you still get vacation?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. I more or less make my own hours. As long as the work gets done and the businesses are making a profit, they don’t care if it takes me twenty hours or forty to get the job done. Some weeks are more intensive than others but it’s not very stressful. I do very well thankfully,” you said

“I bet your parents are very proud,” she said.

Well, this wasn’t the plan but you looked at Dean and went with it.

“Actually, I don’t have a very good relationship with my parents,” you said, Dean poking at his steamed carrots. “We’re no longer on speaking terms. They never even came to the hospital after the accident.”

Mary looked like she wanted to say that was horrible, John closing his eyes for a moment before he went back to reaching for his beer.

“You know, the son you’ve been disagreeing with recently flew halfway across the country in a moment’s notice for you,” you said, staring at John until he looked your direction. “You’re a shitty dad. You want what’s best for him but do you have any idea what exactly you are doing to him? Do you have a clue about how he thinks about himself? Let me ask you this. He does not hurt anyone in his job. He does not let anyone take advantage of him, trust me. I’ve met his agent and she’d never let it happen. It is not the most glamorous job in the world, or the most manly job but you know what? He helped put Sam through school. He kept you out of debt. He is well mannered and kind and the guy’s got a far better retirement plan than anyone sitting at this table. The son that you want to grow up and get a real job? He’s the one you sent to check on me in that hospital because you were too scared to do it yourself. He’s the one that was my friend when I needed one and he’s the one that told me it’s okay if I do this,” you said, taking off your hat. “He’s the one that was there for me when I didn’t have anyone. He’s the grown up, not you. So you either need to learn to accept him as is or you’re going to lose him. Period.”

The table was silent, everyone staring at their plates apart from John. He had a hard face most of the time but at the moment, it was almost afraid.

“You’re right,” he said, voice louder than you were anticipating. “I didn’t want to see you. I didn’t ever want to see and frankly, I didn’t ever want to know that the accident I caused is going to have lasting effects on you, probably for the rest of your life. I didn’t want to see what I broke and had to be pieced back together. Which is ironic because I’ve been doing it for a very long time to my kids.”

He turned to Dean, Dean’s head up but he wasn’t looking anywhere near his father.

“When did you start to hate me?” John asked. Dean sighed but John held up a hand. “When did you stop trusting me is a better question?”

“The fire,” said Dean quietly, looking at his lap.

“Because I left you in this house alone. You had to find your own way out,” he said. You looked to Sam, Sam giving you a small nod that it was true. “You were only four and I left you alone. Your mom got Sammy and I was supposed to get you. I said I’d come get you, I told you to stay in your room, didn’t I?”

“You never came back,” said Dean, turning his head, narrowing his eyes at his dad. His fists were clenched in his lap and he took a hard swallow. “You were big and strong and you couldn’t figure out how to get the damn door open. So you left me and I waited and I waited and I waited until I couldn’t breathe. And then I found my own way out the window. The jump could have killed me I was so little. But you weren’t even there. No, I limped around to the front of the damn house and you were there with mom and Sam. You never came back. You were never going to come back. I figured out where I fit in this family very early on.”

“So you’ve hated me since you were four?” asked John.

“I don’t hate you,” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“Then what?” he said.

“What do you want me to say?” said Dean.

“The truth,” said John.

“Fine. I thought you left me there on purpose,” said Dean.

“What?” said Mary.

“I know that’s not true. You did send me to a shrink after all. It’s what I felt though and it has been stuck in my head for a very long time that this family has never needed me. Why do you think I always try to take care of you guys? It makes me valuable but even that wasn’t good enough and I don’t…” said Dean, taking a deep breath.

“We’re done,” said John. Dean lowered his head a fraction, John tsking him. “Done fighting about this Dean. It was never your job to take care of this family. It’s mine. But you’re an adult and so is everyone here. I’m not going to lose you over this. Do I like that you take off your shirt for a living? No. But you’re a good boy, good man, and if that’s what you want to do to support yourself and your family someday, then that’s your decision and I’ll stand by it.”

“Just like that? You changed your mind?” asked Dean.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to resent me like Y/N does her parents because they treated her poorly. I want this family to feel like a family,” said John.

“Would you go to therapy with me?” asked Dean.

“For you, yes,” said John, even though the idea clearly made him uncomfortable.

“Okay then,” said Dean, picking up his fork and going back to dinner. You, Sam and Mary shared a look, like you were possibly expecting more but it didn’t come and both John and Dean went back to dinner like the moment was gone.

“I made a pie for desert,” said Mary. “Chocolate.”

“That’s my favorite,” you said, trying to steer the conversation with her onto a lighter topic.

“Y/N,” said Dean. “Why’d you take off your hat?”

“Because I was trying to make a point,” you said with a shrug, reaching to pull the hat back on but stopping when Dean grabbed your hand under the table.

You could feel his parents staring at the scar, Sam not so much but you’d also spent a lot more time with him and he knew how you felt about it. You swallowed and grabbed the hat from your lap, handing it to Dean.

He had tried so you could try too. It was only four people and two of them you already trusted to see you like that. You could get through one meal.

“Is everyone coming over for Christmas?” asked Sam.

“From the sounds of it. Jo had to get her tonsils out over the weekend but she’s already up and around. Everyone’s planning on coming,” said Mary.

“Y/N’s going to come too,” said Dean.

“She’s more than welcome to,” said Mary with a smile. “You’re moving a little fast you two, don’t you think?”

“No, not really. We haven’t even had a makeout session yet,” said Dean, Mary rolling her eyes. “Have we Y/N?”

“I’m not answering that,” you said, shaking your head at him.

After a while, the tension ran out of the room, John asking the boys to help him bring some decorations up from the basement. You helped Mary with a few dishes before you saw your hat on Dean’s seat and slipped it on.

“Y/N,” said Mary. You turned your attention to her, fixing the hat in place. “The accident wasn’t entirely John’s fault. We were having an argument, over Dean actually but I played a part in distracting him.”

“Do you think I don’t like you or something?” you asked.

“It wasn’t all on John is what I’m trying to say,” she said.

“Mary. He didn’t drive into me on purpose. I don’t hate him. I wish I looked the way I used to but I can’t magically go back in time and stop it from happening,” you said. “I can’t go back in time to stop anything bad that’s ever happened to me. I live with it and I move on.”

“The boys say something like that but it’s a little different,” she said.

“It’s a Dr. Bram thing,” you said with a shrug. “Can we please be done with the awkwardness around here? I don’t think any of us can take anymore.”

“Are you going to wear a hat in this house anymore?” she asked.

“I…” you said, fingers grazing the edge of it.

“You are free to wear it, or not wear it. It’s your choice but no one is going to judge you,” she said, holding up her hand and showing the scar on the back of it.

“Thanks,” you said. “Um, is there anything you need help with? For the holidays? Like cooking or-”

“I normally put the boys in charge of making cookies...which is why I normally end up making them myself,” she said with a smile.

“I can bake some and decorate,” you said.

“Perfect. Make a good few dozen of them. We’ll have close to thirty people here for a most of the week,” she said.

“I’ll make a lot then,” you said. Dean and Sam rounded the corner with their dad, all of them a bit sweatier.

“We should head out. I have to head to Kansas City in the morning for a few…” said Dean, trailing off when his father looked at him. “A few shoots.”

“What are you shooting?” asked John.

“Dad, you really don’t care,” said Dean.

“Maybe I do,” said John with a shrug.

“A truck commercial then some farming work boots commercial. They’re back to back at the same place. It’ll still be a long two days,” said Dean.

“What kind of truck?” asked John.

“Chevy,” said Dean. “I don’t remember the boots off the top of my head. I get to keep the pair from tomorrow though.”

“Do you get to keep the truck?” asked John.

“No,” said Dean with a smile. “But I get a paycheck.”

“It sounds like you’re keeping busy,” said John. “Make sure you remember to eat something tomorrow. You always forget when you’re working hard.”

“I know,” said Dean. “I guess we should head out. We all got work in the morning.”

“Okay. We’ll see you kids soon,” said Mary. “And Sam-”

“I know. I’m over this weekend to help put up the lights,” said Sam with a smirk. “Night guys.”

“Well, that went good, right?” asked Dean as he headed for your place.

“Not at all what we had planned,” said Sam, looking over the front bench at you, flashing a big grin in your direction. “You were something else.”

“I don’t want what happened to my family to happen to yours,” you said, staring out the window. “Did that thing with the fire really happen?”

“Yeah,” said Dean quietly. “I know I twisted it in there. I know I wasn’t left behind. I know a firefighter dragged him out of the house but it just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” you said as you pulled up outside your place. “You guys both have work early. I think you should stay at your place tonight.”

“Kicking me out?” teased Dean.

“Maybe when you come back you can have a drawer,” you said, giving him a wink and Dean biting his bottom lip in return.

“Oh God, you two are disgusting,” said Sam, fake gagging in the passenger seat.

“I’ll take you up on that drawer,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat to give you a kiss.

“Text me,” you said when you sat back. “Sam too.”

“Alright, alright. Now get that cute tush out of here so I can watch it walk to your door,” he said.

“Night boys.”

A/N: Read Part 10 here!

TAGS CLOSED

@homeorbust​ @team-free-gallagher @waywardrose13 @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansgirl215 @booski91 @spnskinnyballs @gh0stgurl @newtospnfandom @hunterswearingplaid @jayankles @mlovesstories @roxyspearing @mirandaaustin93 @laceyn-1201 @rahma29417 @extreme-supernatural-lover @mrswhozeewhatsis @gallifreyansass @closetspngirl @ms-mags @jen-tiamo @atc74

[queenxxxsupreme]

Cuddle Your Toddler Challenge - dad!witchers edition

A/N: Please ignore that tvs don’t exist in the witcher universe. Just a little reminder that requests are open! Here is the link to add yourself to my taglist and here is the link to my masterlist. 

Lambert 

Lambert let out a heavy sigh as he laid across the sofa, putting his head into Eva’s lap. She looked down at him, little eyebrows drawing together for a moment before she smiled and rubbed his head. 

“Okay, daddy?” She asked. The two-year-old wasn’t the best at forming complete sentences but she was getting there. 

“Just tired.”

“You shouldn’t stay up past your bedtime.” You spoke from the kitchen.

“I’ll try to remember that next time I have you bent….” Lambert trailed off, realizing Eva was in the room and what he was about to say was not child appropriate. 

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. 

Lambert rolled his eyes, turning over onto his back so he could look up at Eva. 

“Hi, daddy.” She smiled, her chubby little cheeks rosy pink. She brushed her hand over his scruffy jaw and his chin, in awe at the feeling of his stubble against her fingers. 

“Hi, baby.”

Lambert closed his eyes in an attempt to get some rest. However, he could feel Eva staring at him still. 

“Eva?”

“Yes, daddy?”

“Staring isn’t nice.”

She giggled, still running her fingers through his hair. But then her fingers curled around his dark hair and she tugged. 

Lambert grunted, opening his eyes to find his daughter laughing like what she had done was the funniest thing ever. 

“Pulling my hair isn’t nice either.”

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, holding his face as best as she could with both her hands. 

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Apology not accepted.” He moved, propping himself up on one elbow and then he began to tickle her. 

Her sweet laughter filled the room, warming your chest and making you smile. Her happiness was contagious. 

“Mommy! Help!” She squealed, trying to squirm away as Lambert tickled her.

Eskel 

“Should we make the trip this winter?” Eskel asked you, brows drawn together as he leaned towards you. He stood next to you in the window of the main room, looking out over the front yard. 

Orange, yellow, and red leaves littered the yard. Winter was coming fast this year. 

“If you’d like.” You turned your head to look at him. “You haven’t been home since before Nadia was born. And Vesemir has yet to meet his granddaughter.”

“It’s just…. It’s a long journey.” Eskel looked away from you, his eyes drawn to Nadia. She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace on a fur blanket, giggling at something on the tv. “Especially with her.”

“I think it would be lovely to go to Kaer Morhen.” You put your hand upon your husband’s arm, offering him a smile. “It’s not too terribly cold yet, and she has plenty of clothes we can bundle her up in.”

“The elements aren’t what I’m worried about. It’s the danger that comes with traveling across the North, especially a witcher with a woman and a young child.”

“You’d never let anything happen to us.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

Before he could say anything, Nadia was calling for him. 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, my love?” Eskel turned to give her his full attention. 

“Lay with me.” 

The tension that had been weighing heavy on the witcher’s shoulders disappeared and his golden eyes lightened. 

You smiled, your ribs aching at how your husband melted. 

He put his hand on your arm before going over to Nadia. She patted her lap. 

Eskel got down on to the floor, laying his head in her lap. Nadia brushed her little hand across the side of his face which happened to be the side littered with scars.

Eskel stiffened up. It always happened when anyone touched his scars. All the fear and self-image issues he had came rising to the surface. He’d gotten better over the years you’d known him, and especially since Nadia was born, but the trauma was still there. 

Nadia carefully brushed her fingers over each red line, eyes gazing at him curiously, softly. She had never asked about his scars, never questioned their existence on Eskel’s face. To her, they were normal. They were nothing to be shameful of. They didn’t make him into a monster he thought himself to be. They didn’t define who the witcher was. He was still her father, still the one she seeked when she had nightmares and the first one she wanted to hold her when there was a thunderstorm. 

Her touch trailed down the side of his face to his lips. Eske kissed her tiny fingertips, smiling when she giggled. 

“Sweet girl.”

Nadia leaned down to kiss his scarred cheek. 

“Love you, daddy.” She whispered, brushing her hair back out of her face. 

Eskel took a deep breath, holding back the tears that threatened to rush down his cheeks. 

“I love you.” He turned to cradle the back of her head and kiss her nose. 

“No! I love you!” Nadia declared a little louder, kissing his forehead.

“I love you more!” Eskel kissed her cheek. 

You giggled, brushing the tears from your cheeks as you watched them. 

Geralt 

Geralt yawned, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. He sat at the kitchen table, keeping you company while you patched a pair of Bram’s pants. 

“Why’d you do that, daddy?” Lana asked from the sofa, taking her eyes off of the television for a split second to look at her father. 

“Do what, little dove?”

“You yawned.”

“I’m tired.” He gave her a little smile. 

“Come lay down then.” She patted the couch next to her. “Like you did with mommy last night.”

You smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Last night, Geralt had a headache. You sat on the sofa with his head in your lap while you watched tv. 

Geralt looked at you for a moment, a little smile tugged at his lips. You have him a nod, encouraging him to take Lana’s offer. 

He rose from the table and moved across the room to the sofa. Lana moved a little and then watched her father settle down on the sofa, his long legs awkwardly bent to try to fit all the way on the sofa. He very carefully placed his head in her lap, afraid to hurt her. She was such a tiny little three year old and he seemed gigantic compared to her. 

Lana placed her hand on his hair and started to brush her hand over his white locks, smiling down at him. 

“I love you, little dove.”

“Love you more, daddy!” She giggled, then her attention was taken back to the tv. 

Your heart melted at the sight of your husband, built as sturdy and solid as a stone wall, lay with his head in your toddler’s lap. 

Bram walked into the room a few minutes later. The eight-year-old looked at his father and sister and giggled, then moved to you. 

“Are my pants fixed yet?”

“Not yet, love.” You showed him the patch you were working on. “If you weren’t so rough on your clothes, they wouldn’t need patched so often, you know.”

“I can’t help it.” He grinned mischievously. 

He moved towards the sofa and climbed up on top of Geralt’s back. 

“You’re comfy.” He commented, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder. 

The witcher chuckled, closing his eyes as he let out a soft breath.

[aikainkauna]

Movie meeeehm

Thanks to @nitrateglow for these!

1: A movie you enjoyed as a kid that you don't now

-Probs some comedy I'd find awfully sexist/racist/homophobic etc. now. But of course, I can't recall a specific one, probs because the experience is so deeply squicky and traumatic. Oh, wait, I know. I adored The Great Mouse Detective as a kid, but have heard so many "bleh" comments about it later that I don't want to ruin it by rewatching it as an adult. Why take a happy, cherished, pure and joyous memory away, especially as there are so few of those in my life anyway in proportion to the bad memories?

2: A movie you disliked as a kid that you like/love now

-Not a movie, but I was literally too fucking terrified to watch Doctor Who as a kid on cable, because the Tom Baker repeats they were showing terrified me with the title sequence alone. That empty stare and howling, diddly-duming music were enough to give me nightmares. So I only got into Who in my late teens!

3: Your favorite movie as a kid

-Define "kid." I went through several. I loved the Disney Robin Hood, of course, and at puberty, Wayne's World (yes) and The Princess Bride were my own cult movies, before I had anyone to fangirl them with. Ah, the pre-Internet era.

4: An actor/actress it took you time to warm up to

I remember being weirdly terrified and disturbed by Jeremy Brett as a kid, but then I felt the same about Bowie, and... well. Clearly it was my baby self not knowing WTF to do with all this stirring, restless energy that later turned out to be my skinnyandrogynousbisexualguy orientation thingy. And while I'd first seen Caligari and Casablanca as a teen in the early 90s, I wasn't ready for Connie until he pounced me in 2012. I would not have "got" him the same way and as hard until I was a grown-up, with a wide variety of experiences from many areas of life and a boatload of books/learning behind me. Just... no way.

5: A director it took you time to warm up to

-If anything, I've cooled off various directors I was impressed by when younger. So much of the auteur stuff gets wanky and self-imposing, in this Arrogant Artist Guy "look at my GENIUS big VISION and also insecurity about my penis size" kind of way. I like directors who can be warm and have fun and who show some real humanity (not wanky anvilly/kitchen sink-y sort of "humanity" either). Maybe Branagh? I found him a bit annoying as a kid, but now fap all over his stuff because now I'm old enough to Get It. He is the best kind of fanboy director; his geekiness is catching. Listening to his Thor commentary was a real eye-opener into my realising just how massive a nerd he is, and in a good, "one of us" kind of way.

6: Top five favorite soundtracks of your favorite movie composer

-There isn't just one! But Clint Mansell and Debbie Wiseman turn to gold everything they touch. Debbie especially is hugely unknown still, but she has this most amazing, swellingly Romantic music full of sweeping emotion that I just can't rec her enough. Do check her out; she'll give you goosebumps.

7: Three movies that defined your teen/childhood years

-I think I mentioned those already! But as a teenager, Bram Stoker's Dracula, La Reine Margot and Heavenly Creatures were formative. There were others I obsessed about way more than those, but they weren't as influential--it's more like they were massaging buttons I already had.

8: Sci-fi or westerns?

-Blake's 7! AKA "The Dirty Dozen in Space."

9: Are there any movies you own more than one copy of?

-Ahhahaha. AAAHHAHAHAHA! Of The Thief of Bagdad, I own: The Criterion clusterfuck with the awful clumsy cover someone had their 5-year-old draw, the Nordic DVD, the German Blu-Ray because I live on the edge (what with those Veidt Eye Closeups in HD being a hazard to any uterus) and at least three different digital copies. Because I'm me. I also own two digital copies and one DVD of Casablanca, three digital and one DVD of A Woman's Face and don't get me started on the British telefantasy I have on both DVD and VHS. I have spare copies of both the Caligari Masters of Cinema release and the ITV DVD of The Spy In Black, so I guess I should throw them at somebody.

10: Physical media or streaming?

-Neither. Video files firmly saved onto and run from my hard drive. Fuck streaming with its choppiness (ruins the viewing experience for me) and physical media are usually beyond my budget (unless I save up for a Connie DVD). Besides, I rip my favourite movie discs onto my HD anyway. I want to be able to gif that shit, dammit!

11: Are there any movies you watch on special occasions every year (Christmas, Halloween, birthdays, your mother's aunt's wedding anniversary, etc.)

-Used to do Nightmare Before Christmas on Halloween, but not any more. I still attempt ToB every Christmas. And I used to do All Through The Night with wine on my birthday, but as I can't tolerate alcohol anymore, the experience of Watching ATTN Drunk is no more. Someone start a Halloween tradition with me where we watch either The Student of Prague or Eerie Tales (or both) every year?

12: What movie do you most associate with your best friend(s)?

-Gosh, so few have stayed, so it's more like "movie that reminds you of a broken friendship," yay...?! I've learned to try and not associate movies with people that way any more, because it's more painful than it's worth. Connie is my best friend. He's like Krishna that way.

13: Name a movie adaptation you thought was better than or equal to its source material.

-LOTR put in more facial features and characterisation than Tolkien ever did, and did the tales far less fucking tediously. Imagine if you'd had to sit and watch hobbits walking through the countryside for 6 hours with barely anything happening?! Yeah...

14: What genres do your favorite movies tend to be?

-Historical, fantasy, Gothic Romantic, just Romantic stuff on the whole. More old than new movies these days. Why watch shitty modern chick flicks when I have far better characterisation and far less narrowly defined female lives in old-timey "women's pictures?" And guys who actually fucking shaved, dressed in clothes that were tailored for them instead of rented and saggy, whose bodily expressions weren't frozen for fear of "fagginess," and who weren't pumped full of 'roids.

15: Are you a fan of period dramas and if so, what era do you enjoy best?

-Yes. I love me some costume dramas, but I am seriously picky about them--most post-90s ones have been fucking awful and tend to feature shitty costumes and unkempt hair that would've sent real historical people to Bedlam, wobblycam from hell, vomit-inducingly excessive modernisation to be "edgy", and that one painfully skeletal bint they shove into every period drama ever these days, so it's... slim pickings for a history nerd, these days. There aren't many good ones set in the 17th century/Baroque era, which I love the most: the two Baroque dramas I wholeheartedly love are both series. (The Devil's Whore and By The Sword Divided.) The Angeliques and Musketeer adaptations are riddled with flaws, but there are some glowing bits within. As for The Golden Age of Islam... bloody hell, there really aren't that many good ones out there, are there?! ToB and Jodhaa Akbar and Disney's Aladdin, obviously. La Reine Margot isn't "my" period but it's great, as is Dangerous Liaisons (also not my period)--those are so fucking perfect. And the Connie period dramas, well... I think of them as primarily "silent movies" or "old movies," actually. Of those, The Student of Prague, ToB and The Wandering Jew are the best "costume" ones, IMHO. (I'd probs enjoy Lucrezia Borgia and Carlos and Elisabeth way more, were the copies we have not so smudgy.)

16: Name a movie you love that you would recommend to just about everyone.

-Ah, but we know there are always cynical cunts out there who'd give even Casablanca two stars, so what's the point? I'd still recommend it, though. And The Lion King, I guess.

17: Name a movie you love that you consider an acquired taste.

-Honestly, I'm thinking of telly rather than movies again. You will pry my cherished copy of The Time Monster from my cold, dead hands. Does The Devil of Winterborne count as a movie or TV? That's how far back my love for Mark Gatiss goes. Um... Don't Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood makes me fucking cry with laughter (the comedic timing is what does it. *beat* "Ain't dat some shit!"). Of Connie's oeuvre, yes, I know Bella Donna is rubbish, but Connie and Mary are SIZZLING and horny and juicy and it's Valid as a BDSM porn movie. And the novel is actually good.

18: Name a film you like directed by/starring a filmmaker/actor you normally don't care for.

-Not so much actor/director, but I did *not* expect to love Thor as much as I did, because I expected a dumb popcorn movie but got great adventure cinema with a touch of Shakespeare instead. I really am not the right audience for regular Marvel features at all, before or after. Fuck Marvel up its dumb macho Republican ass. But Thor is fucking beautiful and operatic and poetic and majestic and Pagan and shit. Branagh knows what I like.

19: Name a movie that blew your mind.

-A Woman's Face (1941). Because. Holy. Fuck. How can I keep on finding yet more details in it six years after first watching it, having watched it countless times by now?! And obvs all the other stuff, like the shockingly good female POV, amazing and complex woman protagonist, amazing writing, amazing ensemble cast, amazing direction, amazing lighting, amazing evil Torsten Slinkypussy Barring and The. Goddamn. Attic. Scene.

20: What genre mash-up would you most love to see that either hasn't been done yet or hasn't been done enough?

-Feminist-savvy historical romance with fantasy elements and hot explicit sex that's not shit. Basically, like the stuff you see in my fics, but better paced and woven into coherent adventure movies.

21: The coolest movie you've ever seen

-Too, too many. But Bogie was the coolest. And Claude Rains had the best acting skills. And Conrad Veidt was Conrad motherfucking Veidt. So what with those three mountains of coolness all converging under the Moroccan sky, I'm sure it's safe to say "Casablanca."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nate and Bram: Sing

(for the anon who wanted a quick drabble of the first time Bram heard Nate sing...)

CW: dub con kissing, touching - noncon. Um, a game of darts that’s not strictly within regulations...

This is boring," Ashley complained, her arm drawn back behind her. She had her hair pulled back high on her head, and the wiry body, cutoff denim shorts, and red tank top she wore gave her a strangely young look, like the world's most rabid cheerleader.

"You c-c-could always not th-throw darts at me," Nate suggested, trying not to pull at the leather straps that bound his wrists above his head, elbows bent, against the wall. Bandages crackled around his neck - he’d pissed her off a few days ago and the cuts were still healing there, circle after circle layered over the old circles, the old scars, cutting the collar into his neck.

He’d never have to wear a real one, Bram said, because who needed that when he was so obviously already his?

"Oh, but it's so fun when I hit you," Ashley said, laughing. If Bram's true laugh was a hyena's awful cackle, Ashley laughed like a broken mirror of it - similar but shattered, somehow, stepping on a crackle of glass.

She threw the dart, and Nate let out a breath of relief when it buried itself in the wall three inches to the right of his neck.

"You could entertain us a different way," Bram said, sitting on the arm of the couch, a few darts in his hands, too. He wore black jeans and a black tank top, hair pulled back low at the nape of his neck, and every time Nate met his eyes he thought Bram looked like he'd been poured into those jeans, was maybe the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

Then Bram looked away, and it was gone. He was ashamed of himself for the thought, hated himself for having it, for not being able to not have it. The rage filtered back when Nate was allowed to look away. He remembered himself, then… and what he remembered was horrible.

Sometimes he wished for Bram to look back, because there was nothing he could do with the hate, but the love... the love at least let him pretend for a while that this wasn't Hell on Earth. Some days, he didn’t mind the pretending. 

They had impeccable aim, the both of them, and he knew it - every time a dart buried itself in wood and not in his shoulder, his hip, his leg, it was because they were missing on purpose. And Bram hadn’t actually hit him yet except for a graze across one cheek. 

Ashley, well… Ashley was responsible for the rest of the scratches, the thin lines that trickled blood and ached, throbbed in time with his heartbeat… but by now, this kind of pain was nothing compared to the other pains, the deeper ones.

Bram licked up the blood - and when he did, Nate loved him, because the blue eyes locked right on his. The shifting dark things that swam under Bram's ice-colored eyes had looked at him, but he was a different kind of food.

Then Ashley threw darts at his head, and broke that spell anyway.

“What… what d-do you want me t-t-t… damn it, to d-do?” Nate asked, the softness of his voice a tacit submission, acknowledging that he’d do it, whatever it was. He’d done worse. There was nothing they could come up with by now where he hadn’t already done worse… and probably enjoyed it, in the moment, if he was with Bram.

Bram held up a dart without moving from the couch, aimed it, looked down the line of it right at Nate. Then he paused and dropped his arm again, and Nate let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Sing for me.”

“... sing?” Nate pressed his back against the wall, as though he could somehow sink into it and get away from this moment. His heart started to pound, nervously, his eyes dancing from Bram to Ashley and back again.

Ashley curled one lip in thought, then dumped the rest of her darts on the coffee table. “Yeah, okay. I’m bored of this anyway, and we always liked music.”

“Remember dancing around the fires?” Bram asked her, a note of wistful nostalgia in his voice. “They’d play the drums and we’d dance, and dance…”

“Mmmn, I liked the dancing.” Ashley smiled, walking up to Nate, yanking the darts out of the wall from around him. He met her eyes without fear, without hesitation, because Ashley’s eyes were cold, hostile… and empty.

Nothing moved in her, beneath the surface. Nothing to drag him under.

Besides which, he didn’t belong to her, anyway.

“I c-c-can’t sing,” Nate said, a little too quickly. “It wouldn’t b-b-be any g, any good.”

“Ugh. Broken head.” Ashley slapped him, hitting Nate across the face the way you might smack a malfunctioning piece of electronics, stop a CD player from skipping. He took the blow without complaint, head jerking hard to the side and eyes closing, but the sting against his cheek meant nothing to him by now. “Why does he do that now?”

“Fear, I hope,” Bram breathed, with pure ecstasy in his voice. “Come on, baby, we don’t care if you’re good at it. Sing for me.”

“Are you… Are you g-g-going to let m-me down from the wall, Bram?” Nate asked, a little tentatively. He already knew the answer.

“No. Not until we’ve heard your song.” Bram smiled at him, that sweet loving flash of white teeth nearly the same shade as his skin, and Nate took in a breath, trying to remember - from the diaphragm, Nate, from the diaphragm. 

Ashley draped herself across the couch on her back, dirty bare feet up in Bram’s lap, and turned to look at him. They looked so much alike and so little alike at the same time - the same shape to the face, the same cold implacable interest in him, even if Bram’s took a different flavor and Ashley’s seemed more like curiosity as to what his organs would look like if they stopped being inside of him.

“Wh… what song?” Nate asked, softly, curling his hands into fists. “What s-s-song do you want me to sing?”

Bram considered, leaning over with his arms resting over Ashley’s ankles, and Nate met his eyes willingly this time, looked right at him on purpose, and felt himself start to smile. A bit of white-blonde hair slipped loose from Bram’s ponytail and Nate’s hand jerked with an urge to push it back out of his face, tuck it behind one ear, tilt his head for the kiss.

“What s-s-song, Bram?” He asked, and heard the change in his own voice as though from a distance. Softer, sweeter.

The love, at least, made things bearable for a while.

Nate had a plan, but he wasn’t sure it would work, and they’d have to believe he was broken if Bram was ever going to leave him alone with Ashley again. Giving Bram the love would help him learn to trust, and Nate needed him to feel that trust so he could run.

“Anything you want,” Bram said, gesturing magnanimously. “Anything at all, baby.”

Nate nodded, slowly. He didn’t try to sound like he couldn’t sing, he didn’t try to lie and crack his voice. Instead, he took a deep breath, and sang softly, “I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel… I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real…”

His voice was rough, a little scratchy and hoarse. He hadn’t sung in a long, long time, except occasionally when they were both gone and Nate was left alone with no way to pass the time.

The low bass of his voice began to warm to the words, though, and the roughness smoothed, stopped having that crack around the edges. 

Bram sat back, watching him. Ashley’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest bit, in thought. 

“The, ah…” Shit, it’d been a while since he’d listened to this song, he didn’t get to have music here, really… “S-Sorry… the needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting… try to kill it all away, but I remember everything…”

He swallowed, pitched his voice a little higher, closed his eyes to remember the words better, but when he did that, the love seeped away and the cold hatred took its place; the shame at himself for giving in, giving up, even as he plans and thinks, and plans some more.

The shame at what he had done to keep living, he tried to bury under the hate.

Warmed up by now, his voice is the soft and smooth baritone he’s always gotten attention for, whenever he allowed anyone to hear it. Like when he sang at church as a teenager, like when he sang to himself around the house, like when he sang to boyfriends and watched their eyes light up for him, just for him. 

Singing used to be a gift he could give people  - now it’s just another bit of himself that doesn’t belong to him.

“What have I become? My sweetest friend… everyone I know goes away in the end… and you can have it all, my empire of dirt… I will let you down, I will make you hurt… I wear my crown of sh-shit, on my liar’s chair… full of broken thoughts I cannot repair-”

Bram’s mouth was on his, and Nate lost all his air as the vibration of sound dies in his throat.

“You didn’t tell me you could sing,” Bram said softly, kissing along his cheek and down his neck. “You never told me, I didn’t know that about you, why didn’t I know that about you?”

Nate couldn’t help it; he started to laugh, airy and breathless. “Y-y-you don’t know anything ab, about me,” He whispered back, and Bram kissed him again to stop the words.

Ashley groaned from behind Bram, where she still lays on the couch. “Gross, Brammie. Like kissing a turkey dinner.”

“I love the turkey dinner,” Bram said softly, with perfect sincerity, against the bandages layered over Nate’s neck. “I love the turkey dinner so much. Keep going, Nate. Keep going but just for me this time, okay? Keep going.”

“Can you l-l-let me down from th-the wall, now?” Nate asked softly, and tilted his head for the next kiss, gave another piece of himself away for temporary reprieve.

One day I’m going to walk out of here and I hope you’re both dead when I do it.

“Will you sing the rest of the song for me?” 

Bram’s cold fingers shivered along the inside of Nate’s wrist, just above the place where they’d tied him to the wall. An offer, a trade, a bargain.

Give yourself away, and live a little longer with your mind your own. Or give up, give in, and you don’t have to care any longer.

Nate smiled, turned to look Bram right in the eyes. “Y-Yes. If you let me d-d-down, I’ll sing.”

Bram’s fingers went to undo the buckles, and Nate let himself drown. 

Then, rubbing one wrist with the other hand, he took a breath and started to sing. 

“Beneath the stain of time, the feeling disappears... you are someone else, I am still right here...”