#over 85 hours on this in total

[anonymous-tals]

Gob and his crush, original character Chris last name, in their junior year English class.

[fictionadventurer]

One day, I will wake up and the Wiggles version of "The Rattlin' Bog" will not be in my head.

[moondirti]

working at a hardware store, you're too familiar with the odd customer. couples who come in with specifications so detailed, you can only imagine they're for kink purposes; women old enough to be knocked out by the fumes of the paint they purchase, looking to remodel after their husbands passing; men on the verge of a mid-life crises, more devoted to their lawns than they are their families. and though it takes a couple hours of dedicated customer service to get them out the door, satisfied with their purchase, that comes with the job that sees you paid. so it's not so bad. generally fine.

a one and done sort of thing.

(of course, that's because none of them hold a candle to this freak.)

cargo net, nylon cordage, duct tape, disinfectant. all that's missing is a shovel, and the police wouldn't fault you for calling this purchase in.

"moving?" you ask, tongue lashing against your best interests in face of the oppressive presence across the counter. a monster of a man, almost too big to fit through the store. thick arms and neck, a healthy serving of fat over every muscle, filling the space of his shirt beyond what it was sewn to handle. the camo balaclava is both ridiculous and an essential component to the intimidation he strikes in you, framing a set of eyes that squint at your remark.

(jesus, you didn't think people like him existed in real life.)

he looks like he's about to bite back, but decides against it.

"hunting." he says, then nudges the objects towards you like he has somewhere urgent to be at 10 pm. but okay, fine, you can take a hint. you scan the suspicious list of things and tally up his total.

"uh, 85 quid. thanks."

"bloody extortionate." the man mutters, stacking his purchases upon one, curled arm, before throwing a pink note your way.

nonplussed, you don't notice the offence immediately. the matter of payment is instead superseded by his offhand exit, his shoulder shoving open the door, head bowing to shrug out. and you watch as he walks across the parking lot, long strides taking him there in three steps, and watch as he slips around the brick perimeter. only then does your stomach settle.

but at that point, it's far too late.

50 pounds stare smugly up at you.

that asshole underpaid you.

by the grace of the gods (your manager), your shift ends soon after. it's a wonder you manage to get to your car at all, migraine splitting your skull in two. though it should be doing something to alleviate the pain, all your body wants to focus on is the lightened bulk of your wallet, now missing 35 quid after paying the difference out of pocket.

you take the time once you're seated to smash a fist repeatedly onto your steering wheel.

"fucking fuck! cock sucking bastard, son of a bitch!"

the screaming, though cathartic, drills your sorrows further into your head. you're temporarily blinded when your head slams back onto the headrest, phosphenes overwhelming your vision. little stars, ropes, knives and dots dancing over the windscreen.

it's a miracle you're able to discern the eyes in your rearview mirror as real.

"well, which is it?" the brute from earlier derides. his hand comes over your jaw, big enough to trap the whole lower half of your face in his grip. tucks his pinky under your chin, too, the makeshift muzzle keeping you from biting. it's all you can do to breath — long, filtered gulps of air, the space between his fingers smelling of salt. something sticky smears onto your nose. "am i a bastard, or the son of a bitch?"

not a one and done thing, then.

[nekohooch]

Otakon was amazing. Finally getting to wear my Azem summoning circle gown in person was so much fun. I had multiple people stopping me to gush over my costume and people from HERE telling me they saw it online and were so excited to see it in person. I haven’t been to a con since right before the pandemic and it was so nice to come back to a space I love so much. My goal of someone knowing what I was without me explaining was reached (thanks to the ffxiv photoshoot)! And I can’t wait to see the pictures of the group photo shoot. I added more details to the costume and (minus the stars which were my nemesis falling off the whole day) everything was perfect.

The gown itself took about 100 hours total. 85 originally and 15 to add finishing touches. The top is gold lamé and the chiffon overlay was ripping so I removed it. I have a whole costume breakdown under the tag for the original dress creation.

The necklace has an Azem summoning stone that my fantastic friends brought me from Fanfest which I repurposed. The most added details are the stars. I felt the black spots between the p design and the beams was a bit too big and wanted something to bridge the gap. I also considered adding my statics job symbols in the circles but they keep changing jobs XD

I added some more filigree details to the main Azem design in the front of the gown and individual rhinestones to each of the right angle v filigree and each of the small mirrored circles that make up the big circles because I’m extra along with a gold ribbon for the hem

Then I decided to add lights

Again because I’m extra

I don’t have skill with LEDs so I used individual 6ft fairy lights with tiny battery packs. I painted each battery pack black because the white shows through the skirt especially when lit up. There are about 75-90 battery packs I lost count at 2 am on Wednesday honestly ahaha. I looped them twice up and down so the effect would be less spaced out but I might edit that in the future if I figure LEDs and how to get more powerful ones because they weren’t really strong enough for 10 hours (you can faintly see them in the pictures above) and I kept turning them off when I sat. I used the same petticoat but added a hoop skirt because I was wearing tennis shoes (sadly sensible instead of fashionable) instead of my platform boots.

When people complimented me I would ask if they wanted to see my favorite part (which is spinning) and the laughs and gasps of delight were fantastic. Overall I’m so fucking proud of this costume. Thank you to all of you fab people from the FFXIV coordination who said such kind things I’m so flattered and lovingly overwhelmed. It was an amazing return to cosplay.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Cliff Edwards - When You Wish Upon a Star 1940

"When You Wish Upon a Star" is a song written by Leigh Harline and Ned Washington for the 1940 Disney animated film Pinocchio. It was sung by Cliff Edwards in the character of Jiminy Cricket, and is heard over the opening credits and in the final scene of the film. It won the 1940 Academy Award for Best Original Song, and was therefore the first Disney song to win an Oscar. "When You Wish Upon a Star" is widely considered as the signature song of The Walt Disney Company and is often used as such in the production logos at the beginning of many Disney films since the 1980s.

Harline and Washington delivered "When You Wish Upon a Star" to the Pinocchio story crew in early autumn 1938, and they recognized it right away as a spotlight song that should be given prominence in the film. Disney decided that the song should play over the opening credits, and used as a musical theme throughout the film. The Library of Congress deemed Edwards's recording of the song "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" and inducted it into the National Recording Registry in 2009. The American Film Institute ranked "When You Wish Upon a Star" seventh in their 100 Greatest Songs in Film History, the highest ranked of only four Disney animated film songs to appear on the list.

In Japan, Sweden, Finland, Norway, and Denmark, the song has become a Christmas song. The song features in Disney's one-hour Christmas special From All of Us to All of You, originally broadcast in 1958 in the US, but now considered a Christmas tradition in the Nordic countries, where it is broadcast on Christmas Eve every year since 1959. 🎄⭐

"When You Wish Upon a Star" recieved a total of 65,8% yes votes!

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Scenes of panicked civilians rushing out of Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya, in the northern Gaza Strip, after the Israeli occupation army targeted the reception hall of the medical center with artillery shells, damaging the entrance to the hospital in what can only be a blatant violation of international humanitarian law. 📈 The current death toll now exceeds 35'647 Palestinians killed and over 79'852 others have been wounded since Oct. 7th. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DAY 228: US OKAYS "LIMITED" OPERATION IN RAFAH, OVER 900'000 PALESTINIANS DISPLACED, AL-AWDA HOSPITAL UNDER SIEGE, MASS MURDER CONTINUES UNABATED

On 228th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 5 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 85 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 200 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The authorities of the Israeli occupation have agreed to put aside plans for a full-scale assault on the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, for a more "limited" operation in the city, with the approval of the United States.

In an article published by David Ignatius in the Washington Post, Ignatius writes that "Israeli leaders have reached a consensus about a final assault on Hamas’s four remaining battalions in Rafah."

"Instead of the heavy attack with two divisions that Israel contemplated several weeks ago, government and military leaders foresee a more limited assault that U.S. officials think will result in fewer civilian casualties and, for that reason, Biden won’t oppose," Ignatius added.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation army says it has displaced approximately 950'000 Palestinians in the Rafah area, where more than 1.5 million civilians had gathered to seek shelter from the occupation's ongoing violent bombardment of Gaza.

According to the Israeli occupation forces (IOF), some 300'000 to 400'000 Palestinians remain in the city, whose population was less than 172'000 prior to the start of "Israel's" ongoing genocide of Palestinians.

Previously, the IOF ordered the evacuation of the eastern neighborhoods of Rafah, dropping leaflets over the city that demanded Palestinians uproot themselves and their belongings for the umpteenth time and move their families to the already obliterated city of Khan Yunis, as well as the equally destroyed Al-Mawasi area.

The Israeli media claims the occupation army never ordered the rest of the population leave the city, and that hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have "chosen" to leave Rafah of their own volition.

Although IOF soldiers and armored vehicles have stopped short of entering central Rafah, their bombing and shelling has NOT remained contained within the easternmost neighborhoods, but has repeatedly hammered central and northern Rafah as well.

In other news, the humanitarian aid organization ActionAid International has issued an urgent appeal to the international community to intervene on behalf of the Al-Awda Hospital in Jabalia, in the northern Gaza Strip, which has been besieged by the Israeli occupation army for several days.

"Al-Awda Hospital, one of our vital partners, is currently under siege by the Israeli army, resulting in the complete blockade of access to and from the facility. This blockade severely impedes the hospital's ability to provide essential medical services to the most vulnerable populations in the north of Gaza," ActionAid warned on Tuesday.

Previously, the Israeli occupation forces laid siege to Al-Awda Hospital for 18 days in December, 2023, during which, three medical staff were shot by Israeli snipers.

According to ActionAid International, whose headquarters is based in Johannesburg, South Africa, the hospital is "struggling to meet the urgent medical needs of the community, with 80% of injuries requiring immediate orthopaedic intervention."

"The capacity of Al-Awda Hospital has been severely compromised due to the bombing of its accommodation floors, resulting in the deaths of three doctors and the loss of 48 beds. Despite these challenges, 93 medical personnel continue to work tirelessly under extremely difficult conditions," the appeal said of the conditions at the hospital.

According to the acting Director of Al-Awda Hospital, Dr. Mohammed Salha, the hospital remains "under siege again by the Israeli military, with shooting and shelling in its vicinity, ambulances unable to leave the hospital and injured people unable to enter."

"We were surprised today by the siege of Al-Awda Hospital. [There was] shooting fired in the vicinity of the hospital and many shells," Dr. Salha is quoted as saying.

ActionAid goes on to emphasize that "the crisis unfolding at Al-Awda Hospital demands immediate attention and action. We urge leaders and governments across the world to leverage their diplomatic influence and take actions to address this urgent crisis."

"Specifically, we call on you to demand an immediate end to the siege imposed on the hospital by the Israeli government, allowing for the free movement of patients, medical staff, and essential medical supplies and fuel. Furthermore, we implore you to ensure the protection of civilians and medical staff both at Al-Awda Hospital and across Gaza. Swift and decisive action is imperative to alleviate the suffering of those affected by this humanitarian crisis," the appeal concludes.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation army continues massively bombing and shelling various axis of the Gaza Strip, killing and wounding many scores of Palestinians and their families, while destroying the little remaining infrastructure and the few residential buildings still standing in the enclave following nearly 8 months of non-stop bombardment.

Today also marks the 15th consecutive day the Israeli occupation authorities have closed the Rafah and Karm Abu Salem border crossings, south of Rafah, preventing the passage of humanitarian and medical aid convoys, compounding the humanitarian catastrophe unfolding in Gaza.

The occupation army forces holding the two crossings have prevented more than 3'000 aid trucks from entering the Gaza Strip, while also preventing around 700 sick and wounded Palestinians from leaving Gaza for treatment abroad.

At the same time, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) continued their assault on Jabalia, in the northern Gaza Strip, pummeling the city and camp with constant airstrikes and artillery shelling, while also hammering various other areas of northern Gaza.

On Tuesday morning, occupation warplanes bombed a residential building belonging to the Al-Kahlot family in the Beit Lahiya project, in Gaza's north, killing at least 12 civilians, while another 14 martyrs and 42 wounded resulting from IOF raids in the city were transported to Kamal Adwan Hospital over the previous 24-hours.

Several casualties were also recorded following the bombing of IOF fighter jets on a house belonging to the Al-Kahtib family, also in Beit Lahiya.

Simultaneously, Zionist military forces closed the entrance to the town of Beit Hanoun, also in northern Gaza, besieging the town and a nearby school filled with displaced Palestinian families.

In the meantime, occupation aircraft bombed the Zaharna family home, in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood, east of Gaza City, murdering three Palestinians and wounding a number of others.

Occupation fighter jets also bombed a civilian residence belonging to the Qandil family in the Al-Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of four civilians who were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Occupation artillery shelling also hammered the eastern areas of the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City.

Elsewhere in Gaza, occupation Merkava tanks advanced beyond the Salah al-Din Gate along the border south of Rafah, while also demolishing several residential buildings using intense artillery shelling in the Brazil neighborhood, east of the city.

Tanks and armored vehicles were also stationed in the vicinity of Al-Najjar Hospital in Rafah.

Meanwhile, IOF warplanes bombed and destroyed several entire residential squares in the Yabna Camp, in central Rafah, while occupation forces targeted a group of people near the Awadallah Junction in the same camp, killing at least 5 civilians.

Zionist air forces went on to bombard several neighborhoods east of the Khan Yunis governate.

Previously, on Monday night, Israeli occupation forces bombed a Palestinian home belonging to the Abu Azoum family in central Rafah, massacreing three civilians and wounding several others, while yet another bombing targeting the Tabasi family home, which resulted in a number of casualties.

In further atrocities, occupation aircraft bombed a residential house belonging to the Abu Tair family in Abasan Al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of three Palestinians, while many others were wounded or remain missing under the rubble.

Military gunboats with the Israeli occupation army also fire machine guns towards the coast of Khan Yunis, while an Israeli quadcopter opened fire on a gathering of civilians behind the Association for the Disabled near the border with Egypt.

In central Gaza, the slaughter continued when occupation raids targeted the Bureij Camp, while Zionist soldiers killed two young men with gunfire in the Netzarim military axis, north of the Nuseirat Camp.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the current death toll now exceeds 35'647 Palestinians killed, including at least 15'000 children and over 10'000 women, while another 79'852 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 21st, 2024.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[rotandguts]

✶ ┄ CRAZY TOGETHER

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader

summary: during a quiet lull on that tumultuous night, danny realises this may be one of the last few moments he'll ever spend with his best friend.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, sexual content, masturbation (fem receiving), mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of panic attacks, possession and death. praise kink if you squint, bittersweet best friends to lovers. mentions of underaged drinking.

A/N: helllooooo, so this is my first ever fic on this blog wowowowowow i'm nervous. i hope you all like it bc i am DOWN BAD for this mfer. pls let me know what you think!! DANNY IS 18 IN THIS.

publishing date ―  may 17th, 2023 |  © rotandguts

✶

Through all the horror and dread that had inevitably arisen from the events of the past few hours, Danny would argue that despite the demonic presence lurking in the hallway - it was the guilt of his own actions that was currently feasting on his soul.

The noises from beyond the bolted door of apartment 85 had grown to a momentary halt, the initial attack keeping everyone still alive on edge. Bridget was in the living room temporarily calming her younger sister Kassie with promises of a doctor coming to help their mother, hesitancy evident within her voice as she struggled to believe the words coming from her own mouth. Her wound on her cheek - as much as she had tried to ignore it - was starting to ache. Beth had been raiding the apartment for something to help her hand that the quick relief of duct tape was unable to provide.

And all this because he found that stupid fucking book.

The thing that was making the empty sick feeling in his gut feel like a stab wound of his own, was your lingering presence in the corner of his room.

You were here because of him. Regardless of the book or not, if he hadn’t insisted you come over that night for pizza you would be sitting across the city in the comfort of your own home right now. You could’ve been with your family when the earthquake happened. Fuck, they don’t even know if you’re alive right now.

Beth could now be heard stomping around all the windows in the apartment, shouting to anyone that could hear her that they needed help.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, Dan?” Your timid voice snapped him from his internal ongoing panic attack. His gaze, still concerned, softened when you turned around to look at him. It had been the first time you’d spoken in a long while, your voice providing an almost immediate comfort to the blonde boy. He began biting his nails with furrowed brows, a habit you’d usually chastise him for.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, eyes still on you. Your hands were trembling. Your hands were fucking trembling because of him, the thought led him unable to look you in the eyes momentarily. Tears began to form as you clenched your fists, trying to fight the breathless in your chest as it began to truly sink in how much shit you were in. Your phone had long been out of battery, with Danny dropping his in the vault where he'd found that book. Neither of you had been able to comprehend the necessity of the devices a mere few hours ago.

You were both essentially isolated from the world as you knew it.

Danny sunk onto the bed, sitting upright with wide eyes and quick breaths. You couldn’t bare to see him like this. Sure, was there a part of you that was totally pissed off at him for tempting fate with that old vinyl? Of course. But hell, the worst thing you’d been expecting was tetanus, not satan herself cooking eggs in the kitchen.

You approached his hunched over figure, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He still can’t look you in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You spoke with the same hesitance as Bridget in the connecting room. Danny was grown up enough to know otherwise, and yet still for a brief moment took solace in your words.

The mattress sinks beside him and when he turns you’re looking at him through wide, concerned eyes. Your clasped hands are still shaking, despite your best efforts to stop them.

His own hand hovers over them. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when he finally clasps your hands with his.

Eyes connect in the moment, his own drop briefly to look at your lips. They’re a little bloody from you biting them. Your tongue skates across them, letting the metallic taste fill your mouth. The smell leaking through the damp walls of the apartment itself after the bloodbath caused by Ellie outside.

You might both die tonight, he thinks. This could be it. All those years of friendship over because of him. In fact, he thinks it might be even worse if he survives and you don’t, because he’d be haunting the earth still searching for you at every corner in his life. He considers it for a brief moment, mentally punishing himself with twisted thoughts for the hundredth time that night.

Danny’s stomach drops at the thought of the immense unsaid in your friendship. Every lingering gaze and hand hold, every hushed secret and late night embrace under covers. He lived for those moments, but it was starting to dawn on him that they may remain just that. Fleeting moments of will-they-won’t-they peppering your decade long friendship, the what ifs of tomorrow darkening overnight.

He thinks about the first time he knew he loved you. It was your tenth birthday, a milestone. Your mom had intended on throwing you a lavish party and inviting all the kids in class with the little money she’d had. You’d never been one for showing off or making a big fuss and insisted you just wanted Danny there. The night was spent huddled together in fancy dress costumes, he was a pirate and you were a princess, telling each other spooky stories from the safety of the pillow fort your parents had helped build. He wished this nightmare they were currently experiencing was just that, a spooky story told under the flashlight lit fort.

He could still remember the close proximity you both sat in. The quiet, different from the buzzing playground, had allowed him the opportunity to see you up close. There was something in your words that made his heart beat faster, and when your bright eyes lingered on him while telling your stories he knew deep down that he wanted you to look at him like that for the rest of his life.

You were looking at him like that now.

“Do you remember that night we got home from Oscar’s party?” Your voice was barely a whisper, he almost thought he had made it up in his head. All of a sudden he was very aware of just how close you now were.

Oscar, a classmate and barely a friend, grew up in the richer part of the city. Everyone jumped for a chance to go to his parties for his large pool and the flowing liquor, you had both jumped at the opportunity.

“Yeah.” Danny responded after a beat, still taking the opportunity to inspect your face.

That night you had partaken in your usual drunk hand holding and cuddling, nothing too different from what you’d do sober but with an added possessiveness. You had danced with him like you wanted everyone to watch you together, to know that you were his and he was yours. In those moments, lips had lingered for moments too long at ears and mouths. But ultimately, the night ended with your usual walk home.

If Ellie, Danny’s mom, had known you both weren’t tucked safely in bed in your house she would’ve called a search party to track you down through every nook and cranny in the city. Luckily, you both ended your night in bed by 4am.

“Do you remember what you asked me?” Danny spoke again after a short moment of silence. You were looking at the floor now, your feet occasionally grazing his.

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Danny?” You asked, he thought you were teasing him but you showed no signs of mocking. Pensive, you rolled to face him. He was frozen in place. The lights were out in your room and your bodies, undressed to different extents that you were both familiar with during an after party sleepover, radiating an addictive warmth that made him want to hold on to you skin to skin.

“I didn’t know that was something you wanted.” His fists were clenched, he was still waiting for this to be a big joke.

“I want it.” The light from the moon illuminated some of your face. He licked his lips.

“Why didn’t we like, ever talk about it after?” If tonight was it, he needed to know. He needed to tell her. He’d rather she hate him and be alive and know than be dead and have the wasted opportunity follow him forever.

“I was scared, I guess - I thought you didn’t like it.” You shrugged.

Soft lips on your own, hands gripping your waist under covers. You’re using all of your self control to not grind yourself into him. The only evidence left of your night together were various lilac bruises scattered on your necks. But neither of you spoke about it. So it was never brought up.

“I liked it.” For the first time tonight since the earthquake, Danny softly smiled. Your eyes lit up, returning the smile to him.

“You never said anything-“

“Neither did you!” He countered, the smile giving away that he wasn’t actually angry. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Touché.”

As much as it embarrassed you to admit at a time like this, your thighs were pressed together at the thought of you and him that night. Both of you had been virgins prior to the encounter

His left hand tangled through your hair as lips danced, you can still remember how you thought you had a temperature from the summer heat and the sweat coating you both. From his gentle, wordless persuasion of a soft push, you were on your back and his frame was on top pressing into you. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist and pull him in. His hips grinding to your core, it’s so messy and quick but you can barely think because his other hand is traveling to your thigh to pull you in even closer.

He breaks away from the kiss to trace his thumb across your jaw and your swollen lips. Eyes blown out and wide, jaw slack at the sight of him. You’re spread out under him, the material of your crop top and shorts seemingly oh-so thin now that you’re in this position. Your tongue appears to softly lick the digit of his thumb, his eyes almost rolling back at the sensation. He can feel your thighs clench together around him, seeking a temporary relief from the throbbing between them.

He thinks he might die if he can’t feel it, if only for a second.

Removing the thumb from your mouth, your face immediately portrays your disappointment with a slight pout. Danny lightly smirks, lowering himself down again face to face with you. He reaches down to your thigh, trailing the inside of your leg.

“Can I feel you?”

“I think I’ve been thinking of that night every day since it happened.” He admitted, soft smile lingering. You could feel something stir inside you. Here he was, your best friend, in his oversized shirt and silver chain. He ran his hand through his hair. “I dunno. I just know that I can’t stop thinking about it. And you.” Danny continues.

There was a fucking demon outside the apartment door and quite frankly all you could think about was how badly you wanted that silver chain in your mouth.

Your hand reaches for his jaw, which grows slack at your touch, his gaze seemingly possessed by the thought of you. The summer night heat from that encounter stirred inside of you again.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Apprehensive, you continue to trace your thumb over his cheek, until following his jaw and lips just like he had done that night. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long while.”

He was hypnotised under the touch.

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you. You’re my best friend, man.” Danny felt like fucking crying and you could tell through his voice. Was this a dream? Was that demon back to taunt him for all the time wasted?

He felt consumed by you, like in this moment his purpose was to do anything he could to make it all better. He leaned in to finally press a kiss on your lips, slow and still hesitant. You chase him for another when he pulls away, noses still connected and eyes closed tight.

You wanted to stay like this forever. His fingers laced with the hair behind your ear, grabbing a section and softly pulling. The involuntary moan that left your lips sent a shiver through him, he wanted more, more, more. Your neck was on display for him to reach down and attack with sloppy kisses and light teasing bites. He pressed himself against you, moving your back flat onto the mattress. His lips and tongue messy with your own, clashing to remedy the thirst for each other. Danny’s thigh pressing against your covered core, subconsciously leading you to grind against him.

“Danny, please-” When you were saying things like that, knowing that you didn’t know how much time you even had left together, he had to comply. It had felt so natural, it almost made him feel that guilty feeling again. Why hadn’t they just been doing this all along?

Lifting your skirt to expose the wet lace of your underwear, he asked the same question he did last summer.

“Can I feel you?”

Without hesitation you nodded, guiding his hands through the waistband. “Shit,” He paused for a second, raising his fingers back up to his mouth, spitting on them before returning them to their previous position.

The electric feeling of him on her clit, foreheads pressed together and eyes connected could make anyone forget about the horrors happening beyond the sanctuary of the doors to his room. His fingers filling you, curling and strumming to a syncopated beat, reacting only to your stirring beneath him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet babe,” He was amazed at the feeling itself, your slick softness. You choked out a gasp, you groping him in an attempt to give him the same ineluctable pleasure he was giving you. He was too preoccupied with you to worry about anything he might be feeling, not when he was the one that got you in this situation. And besides, hovering over you when you looked this fucking good with his fingers stuffed inside you, that was more than enough for him.

“You’re so good, such a good boy.” He quietly whines at your words, pressing rough kisses to your neck again.

You tug his hair back to grant yourself a better look at him. His other hand wrapped around your neck, not restricting your breathing but still lightly grabbing it. When he could tell you were about to make a loud noise, the same hand swiftly moved to cover your mouth. Your eyes wide with his, silently watching each other desperate to moan.

The silver chain resting on your chest, its cold metal grounding you in the moment. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He murmured, still so preoccupied with the feeling of filling you.

“Needed you for so long Dan,” He bites his lip as his pace grows quick, your fingers finally finding their way around the chain that was taunting you all night.

“Thought about you every night. Couldn’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ wet you were.” It was true, in the shame of their last encounter he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Not when he’d been thinking about it for half his life. “Still so so wet baby.”

Looking at his arms, his tattoos and veins. The way they moved in and out of you, the glint in his eyes as he watched his own work. The overwhelming view and feeling lead to the inescapable wave. “Fuck, Dan, I’m gonna-”

And with that, he holds you tight as you hit your orgasm. Your hands fly to his hair and shoulders, trying to remain grounded as your back arches. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You try your hardest to whisper, but your heart is pounding and all you can feel is the dizzying sweetness of Danny all around you. You have to remind yourself that this is real, you’re real.

He watches you, your heavy breathing providing the soundtrack to the moment. He pressed a light kiss to the top of your breast that was on show from the top you were wearing, before moving back up to place a kiss on your lips. Lying beside you, staring into your eyes with a warmth you’d always thought was unimaginable but realising that it had always been there. It has always been him.

So for that moment, you just lay there. And yeah, there was still so much unsaid regarding their long friendship. But for now, in the uncertainty of the night, they’d managed to say enough. For the first time since finding that book, Danny would feel optimistic about the future, despite all the shit going on with his mom. For a second it felt like they could really do this, they could really be fine. If only they could make it to tomorrow, then everything else could be resolved. He could apologise to Bridget, he could ask you out on a real date. You could let your parents know you were alive, you could fix the mistakes of last summer and go all the way again with Dan instead of pretending it never happened.

Unfortunately, as optimistic as they currently were, tomorrow would not come for either of them.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Thinking of Ludwig slowly becoming a yandere after being in a relationship with his s/o for years and s/o just accepts it because they love him so much. They take every punishment he gives, and feel torn between wanting to escape but they love him too much to leave. They’re timid around him and he takes advantage of that, teasing them for his own pleasure- that’s what I’m thinking about 😅

Hello there you beautiful human. Thanks for waiting in purgatory for your ask to be answered. I hope it satisfies you ✨

Gonna put the warning here : Totally touches on things like toxic relationships that are abusive so if that’s triggering for you then yeaaaah skip this one.

How you first encountered Ludwig: 

You were having a blast at a small German town's annual summer festival. You’d gotten separated from your friend group as you spotted some fancy Deutsch wine crafted by a family doing it for over 200 years. You hadn’t realized that you were pretty drunk when you’d bumped into the German General & spilled your cherry red wine all over him as you took a tumble to the ground. 

“Oh Sheibe! Es tut mir leid! Ich kann diesen Kleidung sauber helfen.” Panicked, you pulled out many napkins and water bottles to assist him with removing the stain. Ludwig may have been annoyed but became relaxed & spellbound by your beautiful face, perfectly framed by your freshly trimmed hair. 

‘Humph. Well, at least they’re remorseful.’ 

“Es ist okay. I have dry cleaners I can drop this uniform off at and more to wear, but…” Ludwig reached into his back pocket to pull out his business card. 

“If you’re around in Berlin & want to get the best Wurst in all of Germany, call or text me. Ciao” 

[He learned his rizz from Italy.] 

The first date was a smooth yet fantastical affair. The two of you dawdled through the sprawling city of Berlin. From the Brandenburg gate to the TV tower, & down to the River Spree. You got to be fully immersed in the capital city of Deutschland by none other than its resolute representative, Ludwig Belischmidt. 

You were dazzled by all the history he knew of, down to tiny details you knew couldn’t be found in a surface-level history textbook. Your admiration of him, combined with your cute face & intellect, make it much easier for Ludwig to catch feelings. 

As the two of you moved past the honeymoon phase and into the waves of a long-term relationship, you began to notice subtle changes in Ludwig. 

He wouldn’t complement or encourage you as much. Instead, his adoration would be criticism or telling you whatever you accomplished wasn’t good enough / didn’t meet his skyscraper-high standards. This breaks down your self-esteem, so you’ll doubt yourself more. Ludwig will want you always to be pining for his approval. 

When you do something that significantly displeases him, he will have you do something that will physically break you down. Ludwig is like a loving but stringent drill sergeant. Here is a short list of things you’ll have to do in order to get back into his good graces: 

50 Push-Ups 

100 Jumping Jacks 

Hold the ‘T’ pose for 30 minutes to an hour 

Planks 

5 to 15-mile runs (depending on how Sadistic he’s feeling, if someone tried to get close to you, and your level of non-compliance will depend on how long you’ll have to run for) 

These are all things that will exhaust you and prevent you from wanting to talk back, argue with him, etc. This rigorous training also mitigates 80%-85% of your free time to socialize with others. 

Ludwig does his best to avoid putting his hands on you because you’re a human. You’re incredibly fragile. You weren’t meant to withstand him at his maximum strength. However, when you cross him, he has a leather belt to put you back in your place. For the most part, it's not something he takes great pride in, but he needs to keep you under control. He’s realized over the years that once you’ve become emotionally attached to him, he could get away with more & more problematic behavior. All he had to do was hit you with the line: “Es tut mir leid, Liebling. I had to. It was for your own good. I’ll make it up to you.” Ludwig will give you a chastised kiss on the forehead. This gesture never failed to make you turn bright red and send butterflies pouring through your guts. Your heart would sprint due to feeling the adrenaline that comes from being in love. However, your nerves would be feeling a dry stick rubbing against them gaining friction that produced a thick smoke. 

Your typical response to his apology would be followed up by a brief: 

“Kein problem. I forgive you, Ludwig.” 

Even though Ludwigs' smile touched your skin like an early morning Fall sunray heating up your chilly skin, the glaring truth about him and his progressively toxic tendencies became far more difficult to ignore as time continued. 

You evaded his gaze this time when you accepted his apology. You wondered how many times he’s said that to you now. 

‘But all relationships are like this. I shouldn’t have upset him in the first place.’ This was one of the many rationalizations that you told yourself. 

You often wondered how many more times you’d hear him say “sorry” when you cried out for him to “stop” or say “Ludwig, please! It was just a mistake!!!” As more lashes came swinging through the air & made the all too familiar crack against your soft skin. It never failed to vivid crimson 4-inch whiplash there. 

‘Is my relationship with Ludwig actually normal, though?’ Came the uncomfortable question that came to your mind every now & again. It normally materialized after you’d faced another grueling punishment of military-style exercise, a lashing, being denied access to friends, fun, and family, a disagreement, etc. You longed not to have to walk in a minefield of broken glass, eggshells, & razors when navigating conversations with him. 

“Y/N?” Ludwig says sternly with a touch of concern. Your lack of eye contact with him when accepting his apology was a subtle signal to him that he had to go all out when he planned your latest couples' make-up trip. It had to be something spectacular. 

“Yes?” You say in an exhausted tone that was weighed down by the conflict between your heart and your head. You continued to stare at the concrete of the garage. 

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” 

Ludwig would ignore your gradually growing frigid demeanor since you’d been together for such a long time. 

‘It’s just a rough patch. They’ll get over their hesitations soon enough. A well-planned and thought-out day always wins Y/N back.’ 

This is what Ludwig tells himself in order to keep up the delusion that he’s doing nothing wrong and that your relationship is normal. It’s always been this way. 

Why would it be any different now? 

A vacation was the only thing Ludwig needed to get the two of you back on track. 

Usually, Ludwig relished in silence, but not when you refrained to talking to him at all. You would at least give a few compliments about something or try to start a conversation. Only having spoken the basic pleasantries of “Guten Morgen” or “Guten Nacht” with no attempt at speaking more did make him feel uneasy. But not enough to make him rethink where he was going next. 

“Y/N, while planning our trip, I thought we could do something far more exciting.” You stopped staring at your food to move your eyes up to meet his. “We’re going to climb up Watzmann.” Ludwig knew damn well you hated heights. 

“And …..why, for the love of God, would you think I’d enjoy that?” Not being able to hold back your disbelief and irritation. 

“Well, all that training you’ve done. It’s time to test your mettle Y/N! You can’t let all of my hard work go to waste!” Utterly oblivious to the fuse he’s just ignited. 

The tense and uncomfortable silence choked any peace out of the atmosphere. It stayed that way for 90 seconds as the sparks set off the bomb. Its flames made its way through your veins. 

This was not what real love looked like. You pushed your plate away & slammed your fork and knife onto it. Your reaction hit Ludwig like a lightning bolt. 

“I'm seriously done with you, Ludwig!” 

With that, you went back to your hotel room in a huff. Some people stared silently at Ludwig, and others watched you march away. 

You never turned back. 

[forkfulofflavor]

Pumpkin Cinnasticks Ingredients: Pumpkin Cinnasticks: 1/2 cup warm milk (100-105°F / 125 ml) 1/4 cup granulated sugar (50 g) 1 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast (6 g) 1/2 cup pumpkin puree (122 g) 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (370 g) 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger 1 large egg yolk 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons melted butter, divided (85 g) 1/4 cup brown sugar (50 g) 2 tablespoons pumpkin spice seasoning 1 tablespoon cinnamon sugar Maple Cream Cheese Dip: 1/2 cup heavy cream (125 ml) 4 ounces cream cheese, softened 1/4 cup maple syrup (125 ml) Directions: Prepare the Dough: In a small bowl, combine warm milk, granulated sugar, and active dry yeast. Let sit for 5 minutes until foamy. Stir in the pumpkin puree. In a stand mixer bowl, combine the yeast mixture with flour, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg, ginger, and egg yolk. Knead the dough for 6-7 minutes until smooth (or knead by hand). The dough will be soft and slightly sticky. Place in a clean bowl, cover, and let rise in a warm place for 1 hour, until doubled. Make the Pumpkin Spice Butter: Mix 1/4 cup melted butter with brown sugar and pumpkin spice seasoning. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Shape the Cinnasticks: Lightly flour a clean surface. Punch down the dough and roll it into a 24x16-inch rectangle. Spread the pumpkin spice butter over half (12x8 inches) of the dough. Fold the dough in half lengthwise to make a 12x16-inch rectangle. Cut into 1-inch strips (about 16 strips). Twist each strip by holding both ends and twisting in opposite directions. Place on the prepared baking sheet. Cover lightly and let rise in a warm area for 30 minutes. Prepare the Dip: While the cinnasticks rise, whip the heavy cream in a bowl until stiff peaks form. In a separate bowl, blend the cream cheese with maple syrup until smooth. Fold in the whipped cream until well combined. Set aside. Bake and Finish: Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Bake the cinnasticks for 10-12 minutes until golden brown on the bottom. Mix the remaining 2 tablespoons melted butter with cinnamon sugar and brush over the baked cinnasticks. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving. Serve: Enjoy warm with maple cream cheese dip! Prep Time: 25 minutes (plus 1 hour 30 minutes rising) | Cooking Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 7 minutes Kcal: 200 kcal per serving | Servings: 16 cinnasticks These Pumpkin Cinnasticks bring together the comforting flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin for a cozy fall treat. Soft and fluffy, each stick is lightly spiced and brushed with cinnamon sugar butter after baking. Paired with a creamy maple cream cheese dip, they’re perfect for dipping and sharing, offering a hint of sweetness in every bite. Ideal for autumn gatherings or a cozy treat at home, these cinnasticks make an irresistible snack or dessert. The warm spices and touch of pumpkin make them festive and inviting, while the maple cream cheese dip adds a creamy finish that will have everyone reaching for seconds. Serve them fresh from the oven for the ultimate fall indulgence!

[jadeseadragon]

@jewishvoiceforpeace

@jewishvoiceforpeace

jewishvoiceforpeace JEWS SAY: STOP THE GENOCIDE OF PALESTINIANS! Over two-thousand Jews protested in front of the offices and homes of elected officials in NYC, San Francisco, Chicago, Seattle, Indiana, Florida, and LA to demand action to prevent the genocide of Palestinians. The protestors ranged in age from 20-85 and included elected state officials, descendants of Holocaust survivors, students, and rabbis. 80 protesters were arrested across five cities as they blockaded the pathways to the homes and offices of elected officials while thousands more supported them singing Jewish songs of resistance and peace. In New York City, thousands gathered at Grand Army Plaza and marched to Sen. Schumer’s house. Approximately 60 people blocked the road outside Sen. Schumer’s house until they were dragged away by police. In San Francisco, police arrested 15 people who locked themselves to each other in front of Rep. Pelosi’s office as 200 more protesters sang and chanted around them. In Seattle, 150 people gathered outside of Sen. Patty Murray’s office with signs that said, “Jews against genocide of Palestinians.” 15 people occupied Sen. Murray’s office and six people were arrested. In Los Angeles, 60 people including members of Jewish Voice for Peace, UCLA students, and members of If Not Now LA gathered outside the office of Rep. Brad Sherman. In Chicago, 30 protestors demonstrated outside of Rep. Jan Schakowsky’s office. On Friday, the Israeli military called for civilians of Gaza City — 1.1. million people — to relocate within 24 hours, as it amassed tanks for an expected ground invasion. The UN said evacuating everyone was impossible with power supplies cut and food and water in the Palestinian enclave running short after Israel placed Gaza under total siege. Israel has openly stated an intention to commit mass atrocities and even genocide, with Prime Minister Netanyahu saying the Israeli response will “reverberate for generations.” President Biden has indicated his full support, sending additional weapons to the Israeli military. As U.S. Jews believe that never again means never again for anyone, and that includes Palestinians. Never again is now.

📷 @zacharyschulmanphotography

[certifiedalbedoenthusiast]

I have crafted 2000 Woodland Dreams.

Around the time of Albedo's first rerun in 2021, I began a quest in Genshin: to craft the maximum possible quantity of his special dish, the Woodland Dream. Today, I finally hit 2000.

This has been around 2.5 years of daily fishing, milk and salt purchasing, butter crafting, and small lamp grass collecting. Never mind artifact grinding, this is the grind I had on my mind.

I was inspired by Youtuber Memorii, who crafted 1000 of Noelle's special dish for her birthday back in 2021. At first I thought I would just craft a hundred Woodland Dreams, which I figured was an impressive but manageable number. But, as I hit 100, I just wasn't satisfied. Why stop at 100 when the item limit is 2000? And so here we are today, 2.5 years later, with a full inventory of Woodland Dreams.

Fun stats, musing about optimised Woodland Dream production, and my attempt at cooking Woodland Dream in real life below the cut:

The Sunshine Sprat recipe uses 3 butter, 3 fish, 1 salt and 1 small lamp grass. Like any 3-star special dish, you have a 15% chance of crafting a Woodland Dream whenever you cook a Sunshine Sprat with Albedo. I was cooking Sunshine Sprats at a rate of around 100 per week, and while I didn't keep any exact records, we can use these facts to make some estimates.

I would have crafted roughly 13k Sunshine Sprats in total, over the course of around 133 weeks. 85% of those (around 11k) would have just turned out as regular Sunshine Sprat. Of course regular Sunshine Sprat has an item limit of 2000 too, which means I would have had to discard (consume) about 9k Sunshine Sprats in the process.

Crafting 13k Sunshine Sprats takes approximately:

40k butter

40k fish

13k salt, and

13k small lamp grass

I exclusively crafted butter from milk, as it was easier and cheaper to buy in bulk than directly buying butter. This means I would have bought around 80k milk, which cost me 7.2 million mora.

Fish can be gathered from the wild as well as purchased from various merchants around Teyvat. In the early days, I was very diligent about collecting fish in the wild, but towards the end I got a bit lazy and started buying fish more. Overall I bought roughly 10k fish, which is around 75 fish per week, and cost me around 2.2 million mora.

(Sidenote: I was using mora gained from expeditions exclusively for this Woodland Dream quest. This gives me a decent estimate of how much I spent on fish, since I can calculate how much mora I received from expeditions over 133 weeks, and my estimates for milk and salt costs are a bit more concrete.)

The other 30k fish were gathered from the wild. With the assistance of Kuki Shinobu and Yelan, who I discovered were very, very good at killing fish efficiently (helpful when you have high ping like me), the fish populations around Yujing Terrace, the western shore of Mingyun Village, and the Dawn Winery shoreline were absolutely decimated. There are many places to gather fish in Teyvat, and I didn't limit myself to these 3 spots, but these I found were the most convenient places.

(Klee, I found, was surprisingly not that good at killing fish. Her bombs are not very easy to aim properly, and the explosion AoE isn't that great.)

Salt cost me around 670k in total. Nothing more really to say about salt.

And finally, small lamp grass. I had an intensive teapot farm going, and grew nearly 2.5k small lamp grass. But the teapot farm could only give me 8 lamp grass every 3 days, so the bulk of lamp grass, the remaining 10.5k, was harvested from the wild. Whispering Woods and Wolvendom are good sources of lamp grass (17 and 19 lamp grasses respectively), and there are 4 west of Dawn Winery, which were also convenient to collect while I was fishing. Nahida was a blessing for easy lamp grass collection.

In total, I spent around 10.1 million mora on this quest. I don't want to try to calculate the actual number of hours I spent gathering fish and small lamp grass because that will make me cry.

This screen makes it totally worth it though.

I did take this quest at a pretty leisurely pace, admittedly, so just for fun, I thought I'd calculate how long it would take to craft 2000 Woodland Dreams at the most optimised pace. I'd say there are two cases, one where you have unlimited access to resources in co-op worlds, and one where you only have access to your world.

For the first case, you can assume unlimited fish and small lamp grass since these can be gathered from as many co-op worlds as necessary. The limiting factor ends up being butter. It takes 5 minutes to craft butter from milk, which means 288 butter can be crafted every day. (This takes 576 milk per day, which is not a problem, as 600 milk can be purchased daily across Teyvat as of version 4.2.) Additionally, 40 butter can be purchased weekly. Thus you can craft 96 Sunshine Sprats every day, plus an additional 13⅓ each week. This comes to about 685 Sunshine Sprats per week, and on average, 102.75 Woodland Dreams per week. Thus, it would take just over 19 weeks to craft 2000 Woodland Dreams at the most optimised pace possible, about 7x faster than it took me.

If you only have access to your own world, the limiting factor becomes small lamp grass. 77 lamp grass can be collected from the wild every 48 hours. Also, every 3 days, 8 lamp grass can be harvested from the teapot, and 5 bought from Flora. Thus, every 6 days, you can collect 257 lamp grass, and thus can craft 257 Sunshine Sprats every 6 days. On average, this gives you 38.55 Woodland Dreams every 6 days. Thus it would take you just over 44 weeks in total to craft 2000 Woodland Dreams at the most optimised pace when you only have access to your own world. This is about 3x faster than it took me.

But I was already getting quite tired of spending the measly few minutes needed every day to catch fish towards the end. I had no interest in doing it "more optimally" - it was a marathon rather than a sprint, to use a cliche.

Anyway to celebrate this historic moment, I cooked some Woodland Dream in real life. I followed the recipe in this video.

The fish used is barramundi fillet (which was the best size and shape out of all the fish at the local supermarket). I had just as much trouble drawing with the sauce as the guy in the video. But tastewise the dish turned out pretty good! The sauce especially was very nice (I slathered a lot more sauce on when I started eating). This is a dish I'd definitely make again, but I don't think I'd bother making it look fancy like this. So basically, I'd make regular old Sunshine Sprat in the future instead, which I suppose is fitting.

I shall now proclaim myself #1 Albedo Fan (culinary division) 🥇🎣

[patdkoala]

Backseat Serenade

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: Pet names (baby), unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, Dean Winchester being a total slut (yes that's a warning)

Sam had found a case for us all last night. Dean drove us halfway and then pulled into a skeezy motel for the rest of the night.

"Alright so, the lady messed up and gave us two beds," Dean said as he handed Sam and me both keys. "I don't see how that is a problem," I said as I took one of the keys and unlocked the door of the motel.

We stepped inside and it smelled like piss, beer, sweat, and menthol. The carpets reeked of cat piss, the curtains were stained yellow from people smoking inside, and the paint on the walls was patchy as if they'd been repainted multiple times.

And sitting on both sides of the room were two twin beds.

"But there are three of us," I said as Sam set his bags down on one of the beds. "I call dibs on the bed closest to the bathroom," He said as Dean and I glanced at each other back and forth.

"I will sleep in the car, you take the other bed," Dean said as he set my bags down on the other bed (He had carried my bags for me from the car to the motel).

"How is that fair to you? You're the one that drove for 10 hours straight. I can sleep in the car," I said as I went to pick up my bag.

"You're both ridiculous, why don't we just share a bed, Dean. Like we used to when dad would try to get the cheaper room when we were kids," Sam said as his older brother nodded and then we all got ready for bed.

The night went on per usual.

Sam fell asleep first, starfishing in his bed next to Dean, I was sitting up in bed watching a really bad romance movie on the tv, and Dean was sitting in his bed next to his little brother with his arms crossed and he sat there watching the movie with me.

"Do you seriously watch these every night?" Dean asked as I shook my head.

"No, only if the motels have cable but sometimes it cuts out and gets all staticky. Then I get a migraine so I have to turn it off," I said as the tv then turned to static and so I reached for the remote and turned it off.

"Why don't we all just try to get some sleep. We have a long car ride again tomorrow and we have to be well-rested for the hunt," Dean whispered to me as he looked at his sleeping brother.

I got under the covers but I couldn't exactly sleep because I wasn't very tired and I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Dean is sharing a bed with his little brother that is like 5 feet taller than all of us.

I started to laugh quietly in my bed.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked as I sat up and looked at him. He was laying on the very very edge of the bed and the blanket wasn't even covering 25% of his body. Sam Winchester starfishing in bed takes up 85% of the whole dang bed.

"Oh nothing," I laughed as Dean rolled his eyes, and then with one slight move he fell completely out of the bed.

"OH, SON OF A BITCH!" Dean whisper-yelled. "Dean! Shhhhhh!" I whisper-yelled back as I pointed to the sleeping Sam.

"Why don't you just sleep in my bed with me? I take up way less space than him and we both have insomnia so we can just stay up and talk anyway," I said as Dean nodded and then he got into bed with me.

The bed was still pretty small so Dean sat up a little and I rested my back against Dean's chest. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

I was pretty close to both boys so our cuddling up close was not a new thing. I'd been traveling with them both for months now.

We stayed up for a good four hours just talking to each other about the case, about Sam, about Castiel, about our past, and about how not tired we were.

"Wanna go for a drive?" I asked as Dean looked over to Sam who was still snoozing hard. "Sure," He said as he put on a hoodie and we left.

I stole one of Sam's hoodies since I didn't bring a late-night jacket.

We drove to a diner. We ordered pie.

"So, why do you and Sam do this?" "Do what?" He asked with a mouth full of pie.

"Why do you guys take these long drives? You could just as easily take a plane instead. You guys are practically loaded with all this credit card fraud," I said as he smiled and chuckled.

"Well, believe it or not, but Dean Winchester is scared of planes," He said as he spoke in the third person. "No, I believe it," I responded.

"What do you mean? I'm way too badass to be scared of anything," He said as he took another heaping bite of his apple pie.

"But, that's just it. You are way too much of a badass to be scared of anything that normal people are afraid of. Like ghosts, werewolves, witches, and demons. Because we fight things like that every day it would only make sense that our fears would be something dumb like planes, clowns, or heights," I said as he laughed at that last bit.

"So, is that what you're afraid of? Heights?" I nodded and he smiled back.

For a full hour of us sitting in that diner, it seemed almost as if Dean and I were a normal couple on a late-night date. It felt almost real.

"We should head back and see if we can get any sleep before Sam wakes up and decides it's time for his run," Dean said as I nodded.

And liked that the dream was crushed.

We drove back to the motel but we just sat in the parking lot.

"I don't want to go inside. I changed my mind," Dean said as I just sat there. "Okay? What do you want to do instead?" I asked as Dean just looked at me like I was the idiot in the car right now.

"Whatcha looking at me like that for?" I exclaimed as Dean then let out a huff.

"I just thought this whole night was you wanting to make a move on me but I guess I was wrong. I guess I've just been wrong for the past 7 months," He said as I looked at him with doe eyes.

"Oh, Dean. You are such a fool. Of course, I wanted you. I just knew that if we fucked early on in the hunting then I would be putting a target on my back and no one would take me seriously in the community. I'd just be the girl that fucked Dean Winchester and lived to tell the tale," I said as he smirked.

"Oh, don't worry. You'll still be able to tell the tale if you want," Dean said as he reached over to me and pulled me into a deep kiss.

We got out of the Impala and into the backseat. Dean took off his sweatshirt and then pulled off his t-shirt.

I removed Sam's hoodie and then my tank top. Only to reveal that I wasn't wearing a bra. "You spent the whole night with me while braless? You are a fucking minx," He said as he kissed my collarbone and then down my throat.

He held my body down as he moved his against mine with such force. I removed his belt and then slide his jeans and underwear down in one movement.

He pulled down my sweatpants and slid a finger inside of me ever so gently. I moaned out and arched my back. Then he slid in another finger.

Before I knew it, Dean Winchester had three fingers inside of me and I was moaning and falling apart underneath him.

"I know, baby. I feel you coming close." He said as he stopped and then he moved closer and pushed himself into me. I moaned at the sudden contact.

His fingers didn't even compare to the feeling of him inside of me like this.

We both moaned and he moved with such vigor. We took turns crying out each other's names.

The sun was rising behind us. He pulled out and came on the leather backseat. He used his t-shirt to clean it up.

He then fell asleep practically on top of me.

We woke up to knocking on the window. Dean used his hand to wipe the window because we had created so much steam that it fogged up the glass.

"Let me know why you guys are dressed and ready to go," Sam yelled outside the Impala. Dean got off of me and pulled his pants back on. His shirt was unuseful at the moment since it was just used as a cum rag.

I put back on Sam's hoodie and Dean put on his own. We got out of the car and went to change in the motel together.

Sam came back from his run and Dean had packed up the car so we checked out of the motel and all climbed in the Impala.

Dean and I were silent.

"So, are we going to address the elephant in the room or just ignore the fact that you two obviously slept together?" Sam asked as Dean looked in the rearview mirror and just gave me a look.

"Well, if it's so obvious then why does it need to be addressed?" I asked as Dean chuckled.

"I guess you're right then," Sam said before changing the topic and spoke about the case instead.

[abirddogmoment]

A lot about Mav's decline and a little about how it makes me look at Rory.

I didn't talk about it very much here, but Mav was really subtle in his signs of pain when he was declining from his spine injury. Some of the things that tipped me off were changes to his gait, lower tailset, slower movement, reluctance/slowness getting on or off furniture, and needing extra cuddling. These things could easily be brushed off as him being tired or him being disinterested, and it really made me doubt what I was seeing.

I was sure Mav had something really wrong with him, but it was so hard to convince the vet of that. She said things like "are you sure you didn't just train him not to jump on the furniture?" and "sometimes dogs slow down as they age", meaning well but ultimately making things a lot harder for me. This, coupled with Mav's happiness at the vet and overall stoic personality, gaslit me into thinking I was imagining things. I googled things like "munchausen by proxy symptoms" because I needed to know if I was the real problem.

When Mav went for his OFA hips and elbow rads, I had them take spine rads as well, hoping it would answer my question and help find out what was wrong with him. When his rads came back normal, I cried. It was partly in relief that it wasn't something structural, but also partly desperation that I couldn't prove something was wrong.

I pushed my vet to refer Mav for a neuro consult. It took four months to get her to agree and then for the neuro clinic to schedule Mav in. In that time, I started tracking his decline with a special quality of life chart I made specifically for him. It showed a degeneration of his QOL, but I still thought maybe I was dramatizing things and imagining it.

When Mav went for his neuro consult, they took him back for tests for ten minutes, then came back and solemnly told me they were certain his problem was neurological. They then asked me if they could take him back and let their vet students do the (non-invasive) tests on him for practice because he was such a happy dog. Of course I said yes.

They told me he wasn't a good candidate for surgery. I could do an MRI, but it would be expensive and wouldn't add much besides a formal diagnosis. They recommended palliative care.

I sobbed while driving home. Part of it was relief that I finally knew I wasn't imagining things. Most of it was heartbreak.

I scrutinized Mav's final decline because I couldn't let him suffer. I had hard lines ("when he can't run" and "when the painkillers stop working") and he reached those, but he was still so happy. He still had so much joy in his life. I made the call anyway.

The day came. He trotted into the vet's office like he was meeting his best friend at a restaurant. The vet carried him back to get a port and he wagged his tail the whole time. He scarfed down an entire fistful of cookies.

It was still, without a single doubt, the right choice for Maverick. I have thought about it from every angle, torn apart every single decision, and there's nothing I would do differently if I could go back and do it all again.

Now Rory came to me with a weird gait. She came to me with occasional dorsal shivers (the skin thing horses do) and extremely occasionally bunny hops while running. Not enough for me to think there's something seriously wrong with her, but enough for me to send videos to her breeder. I tried to believe it was just a symptom of puppy uglies or that she just needed more time to grow gracefully.

I debated it for two months, but I finally took Rory for an assessment at a sports physio vet here in town. When I filled out the intake form, I made it clear that I could be concerned over nothing, that this could be a waste of $85 and an hour of our time.

She scheduled us in, did her hands on assessment, and found a knot in Rory's thigh. She gave us some stretches and we have a few more rechecks, but Rory should be totally fine and her gait should improved within the week. All the symptoms point towards a longterm overcompensation to reduce weight on her one leg.

I felt so stupid going into the sports vet today. I almost cancelled my appointment twice because I was sure I was imagining things. Even when she was examining Rory, I was preparing my apology for wasting her time.

Rory is going to feel better. She's going to get to grow up without the effects caused from an overcompensation from shifting her weight in a weird way. She probably would've been fine even without the appointment, but she's going to be even better now.

It's a whole lot of text to say something cliché like trust your instincts or don't overthink it, but it is what it is.

[nekohooch]

I promised I would provide some detail costume breakdown of my Azem summoning circle. It took me about 85 hours total over 19 days. The skirt is overlayed over a red petticoat (because it’s the only one I had long enough) I made the skirt about 7 in longer than floor length for me because I’m wearing platform shoes!

The skirt is two layers of black chiffon. The bottom layer is a normal circle skirt, top layer is a seven panel circle skirt. Figuring out the math for this part was hellacious I do not recommend it. The top was gold lamé with black chiffon overlay. The waistband circles are gold upholstery bolts that I used bolt cutters to remove the stabby bits of and the beams from the waistband are from a fringey door cover that I dissected. I then twisted the beams (fringe) and fastened them to the skirt.

The Ps and the filigree things are from bathroom wall decals that I cut into pieces. Then I added rhinestones, these triangle book decorations, and sequins for the designs and the giant summoning circles.

The rest of the designs are various additional pieces of fringe, rhinestones, and hand painted designs with gold calligraphy ink. I almost added my statics job symbols into the summoning circles but I didn’t have time.

There’s still more I want to add to this but I’m ecstatic how it turned out and felt like an absolute goddess.

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Kijimuna

CR 2

Chaotic Neutral Small Humanoid

Adventure Path: Jade Regent: Tides of Honor, pg. 84-85

These coastal cousins of the common goblinoids lack most of the malicious bent that can be found in goblin clans in the Inner Sea Region, for more than a few reasons; they don't want for food, they live simple lives, and their pyromania is considerably less destructive than that of their landlocked kin. Unlike many of the larger goblin clans in the Inner Sea, the Kijimuna are also cut off entirely from the wicked teachings of the Goblin Hero-Gods (this ironically includes Zogmugot, despite her dominion over goblin shoreline societies) and instead their culture seems to have been born from kindly spirits of fire and the sea... not that any of them remember it. Whatever story in their past happened to make them the way they are today is lost to time.

Combat-wise, the Kijimuna are nothing to write home about; this article is mostly about their lore and behavior rather than what they can do in a fight. They come armed with spears that deal 1d6+1 damage with one attack, and most of them carry around entangling nets to make their victims easier to beat to death. More often than not the spears are only used as deterrence, the Kiji rarely ever fighting to the death and preferring to render enemies unconscious, then steal their stuff and leave them tied up somewhere for someone else to find. Any fights to the end are always the result of someone attacking to kill THEM first, and in every other case, they prefer to take it easy.

The most shocking thing they can do is Steal Fire, calling any nonmagical fire of campfire size or smaller to their hand and turning it into a ghostly Dancing Lights at their command. The Kijimuna can command their orbs to crash into someone or something, either causing 2d6 Fire damage (and potentially igniting something flammable), or outlining them in ghostly fire (as Faerie Fire) for 5 hours. Both modes have their uses, but ironically, it's likely the Faerie Fire that's the more dangerous one! Any source of flame snuffed by Steal Fire cannot be relit for 24 entire hours, and Faerie Fire makes the victim glow like a beacon for every predator in the coastal forests the Kiji call home... predators they can no longer see coming or ward off with flame, because they can't relight their torches or campfires. Kijimuna are not especially dangerous on their own, but they can still cost someone their life indirectly... not that they're in a hurry to.

Kijimuna spend the majority of their days doing one of three things: fishing, planning pranks, and pulling pranks. Living on the bounty of the seas has given them a +4 racial bonus to both the act of fishing itself AND to Swim checks, giving them a total of +9 to Profession (Fisherman) and +10 to Swim, typically meaning a single Kiji can catch far more than it will ever need to eat on a given day. A portion of their catches, in fact, end up rotting on the shore when they inevitably get abandoned, the Kiji growing bored of the act and forgetting to store their food. They fish both for sustenance and for entertainment, and when fishing is no longer fun, they quickly move on to the aforementioned pranks.

Consummate pranksters, Kiji can spend hours concocting their jokes, their homes literally littered with diagrams and sketches of their next big prank (whether they have the same belief about the written word as landlocked goblins is not stated), making their huts, caverns, and tree-houses look like the lairs of some maniacal villain. When it comes to launching them, things rarely go as well as they hope for, but part of the fun is trying at all! Besides, if they DO end up working, then it's all the better.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Kiji pranks run the full gamut of harmless but inconvenient to legitimately dangerous, with the Kiji having difficulty grasping why anyone wouldn't want to be a part of their comedy acts (which, again, points towards them having fey origins). To the Kiji, being included in the bit is an honor, and anyone who grows angry or resentful over being pranked--even if the prank caused them actual harm--is just a spoilsport who clearly needs to be pranked even harder until they can see the actual humor in it, in much the same way a comedian who offends someone with an off-color joke may attempt to double down on them until the soured audience member either leaves or laughs. In this case, though, the poor target may eventually die... though in the Kiji's defense, this isn't on purpose.

Kiji are not killers, you see. They try and avoid directly causing deaths to any creature that doesn't wish them death first, with only the dreaded octopus (a creature they are, as a whole, irrationally terrified of) earning their lethal ire no matter what. Any settlement living nearby a clan of Kiji never fears for starvation, as the goblinkin will gladly stock their storerooms with fish (even and especially if they have to break in to do it), and the Kiji will even come to their defense as guardians if a true threat actually arises. There are a few reasons why they do this, mostly because if their friends and neighbors die, they'll have no one to share fish and jokes with!

Perhaps their lackadaisical and mischievous approach to life also has something to do with the fact that they have a maximum lifespan of 15 years, with most of them passing away at around 10, an absolutely ephemeral pittance when half the playable ancestries can easily hit 100 and still have life left in them. With their own histories lost to their kind, Kijimuna may be subconsciously motivated by the need to be remembered by someone else. A single human being can see four, five, or even six generations of Kiji come and go, so they can remember pranks pulled in the past, acting as unintentional living libraries of things the Kiji have already done and essentially forcing the next generation to come up with new material, because the old jokes won't work on them anymore.

You can read more about them here.

[corralinesage]

Portrait of a wounded heart (3/8)

CHAPTER 3 All night long 

The book was mind-numbingly boring, or maybe it was the fact that you, quite frankly, had better things to do, better people to get to know than the ones in the provincial town of Middlemarch. Had Natasha been one of those people, you would have surely binged the book in five seconds total, but unfortunately that was not the case. You skipped paragraphs, skimmed through entire pages, all so that you would get faster to her, the book nearly flying out of your hands the second you finished the last sentence of the first chapter. You dug up your phone, opening a new chat and typing her name in it.

Y: First chapter down :)

You couldn’t believe it, you simply could not believe that you were texting her, texting the woman of your dreams. Oh, you wanted to scream, you wanted to run around your room, or jump up and down on your bed to release some of the exhilarating thrill that you felt, and then you wanted to scream some more when you saw that she had read your message. Your body was buzzing from anticipation as you waited patiently for what she was about to respond to you.

N: Good job! How are you liking it?

It really shouldn’t have had such a huge effect on you, but the sole fact that you were texting her was enough to make you lose your mind. Receiving praise of any kind was bound to make your heart gallop. You refrained from letting out a girly squeal and typed up your response instead after getting over the full-body wave of excitement, letting her know what you thought of the book, although you made sure not to say anything too negative in case it was a favorite book of hers or something of the sort.

N: You better hasten your pace if you want to finish it by morning. You’ve got another 85 chapters and a finale to get through.

Fuck. You stared blankly at the book on your bed, unable to grasp how it was even possible to fit that many chapters into a silly, little book. You knew it was long, but it was slowly starting to dawn on you just how long it was. You felt a wave of despair wash over you. There was no way you were ever going to finish it on time. You felt like crying, you were far too loaded up with intense emotions to be able to regulate yourself, and so, for a moment you just lay on your back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating your options, like any sane person, instead of actually doing something beneficial to accomplish your task. You wasted an unnecessarily long amount of time on everything else that you weren’t supposed to be doing, the uncomfortably intimidating task shadowing you like a whiny ghost that lacked attention. You organized your notes for art history, found yourself a snack from your poorly stocked cupboards, and wiped down your kitchen counters all the while you kept up a conversation with Natasha. Dozen minutes later, or –let’s be honest– maybe even an hour later, you were back to skimming through pages, trying your best to absorb any crucial information that you might have discussed in class the next day. It took you three whole hours to get to chapter 10. God, the book was unnecessarily long. By the time you turned the page to the last one of chapter 10 your eyelids were half-closed. All the characters and places were messed up in your head. You didn’t know who was who, or what was where. There were too many new names, too many relations, too much of everything. You wanted to give up, you really did, you even told Natasha that you were going to fail the assignment, clambering up from your bed as you waited for her to respond to your pathetic whining. You headed for your small kitchen once again, switching your coffee maker on despite the fact that caffeine had lost its kick on you long ago. It would do nothing to keep you awake, but at least you would get an excuse to have a large mug of warm coffee with additional toppings that you chose to hopefully make yourself feel better. You squeezed some caramel sauce on the inside of the mug before adding the steaming coffee on top, you stirred it briefly, hearing a soft ping from your phone. You didn’t even try to resist checking her message, a smile finding your lips at the sight of her name on the screen.

N: You are not giving up, not if I have a say in it.

You felt warm again, your sorrow subsiding for just a moment. You poured some milk into your cup to fill it to the brim, searching for a comforting snack to get you through the hours of reading you had ahead of you, settling for crunchy pretzel bites to ease your hunger. The kitchen flashed with blue light, the soft pitter-patter of rain that sounded from the windowsill soon accompanied by thunder. It was still raining, and it seemed that the storm would only be getting stronger if the harsh wind was anything to go by. The building you lived in was old, wind howling outside, clattering things around. As much as you hated your poor plumbing and fickle heating system, the house did have a few very aesthetic, comforting features that soothed your artistic soul. You returned into your room with a small smile on your face, sipping on the creamy coffee on your way, the scalding drink burning your tongue. You sat back down on your bed, placing your mug on the bedside table before finally responding to her message.

Y: Come on Nat. There’s just no way. I’ve barely read an eighth of the book.

N: Call me.

Y: What?

N: Call me, sweetheart. I’ll tell you the story.

You froze completely, staring at the screen with your jaw hanging on the floor, eyes fixed on the endearment. You glanced at the time, unable to understand what could’ve possibly prompted her to suggest anything of the sort to you at two in the morning. What did she do for a living to not only be up and awake at such an hour but also willing to call someone to talk about English literature? Your finger trembled slightly, heart skipping a beat from nerves as you hovered your thumb over the call-button. Was she being serious, or was she just messing with you? Would you dare to call her? Without giving yourself the chance to hesitate for any longer you dialed her number, squinting your eyes shut as you waited for the telltale ring of the phone to sound. It came only once before you heard her pick up.

“Hi, krasotka.” Her voice was smooth, silky, the words sounding right in your ear, your gut churning with butterflies. You felt breathless, flustered by how intimate the entire situation felt.

“Hi.” You nearly gasped the greeting, somehow unable to believe that she had even picked up the phone. You felt your heartbeat accelerate, your mouth drying up from more than just the salty pretzel snacks. “What are you doing?” You sounded dumber than you had intended to, silently cursing yourself in your head for your awkwardness.

“What am I doing?” She repeated the question as if wishing to tease you a bit.

“Yeah, you know, up at 2 AM, and all that.” You tried to save it by sounding less like you were accusing her of something.

“Well, I’m telling a story to a pretty girl”, she hummed, clearly amused by your shock. You laughed out of nerves, your fingers finding your sheets to fiddle with the fabric. She was going to be the death of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m more than sure. She’s pretty as a picture.” You went completely silent, unable to find a response to her words. She was unabashedly flirting with you.

“N-no, I meant that… that- Are you sure you want to spend your night like this?” It was almost starting to sound like you were the one who didn’t want her to spend her night with you. “Just that I don’t wanna interrupt anything.” You butted in quickly before she had the chance to get the wrong idea.

“Don’t worry, milaya, I have nothing better to do.” It was hard to believe that a woman like her had nothing on her schedule, but you would’ve been lying had you said that you weren’t pleased to know that she was choosing to spend even more time with you that day.

“Well, in that case… Tell me all about Middlemarch. I was just reading about Dorothea getting married to that grandpa”, you said, trying to bite back your smile so she wouldn’t be able to hear it through the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Casaubon. Dorothea was yet another victim of daddy issues”, she said jokingly. “This is gonna be a bit of a ride. I hope you’re taking notes.” You were in fact not because all you could focus on was how low and velvety her voice was. “So, as you know, Dorothea is very headstrong. She’s religious and thirsty for knowledge. She marries Mr. Casaubon over Sir James in the hopes of broadening her intellectual horizons.” She chuckled softly at herself, her tone insinuating that Dorothea’s dreams might have not come true after all. “The Vincys are another family that the book is centered around. There’s Mr. and Mrs. Vincy, Fred –lazy kid– and Rosamond, who’s the girl that everyone wants. She’s dainty and very ladylike, a girly girl if you will.” At first you found it more than difficult to follow along with what she was saying because a huge part of your attention was stolen away by the sound of her voice. It was rather surprising how much you could learn about a person just by listening to their voice. You could not help getting hung up on little details, noting each little inflection in her tone and style of speech, wishing to memorize the rasp of her voice, the way it sometimes squeaked a little as if breaking from exertion. Sometimes she would chuckle or even laugh, the gorgeous melody sounding right next to your ear as you lay on your back, staring at the ceiling with a huge grin on your face. “At this point we already know that Will Ladislaw and Dorothea have chemistry.”

“Wait, who's Ladislaw again? Wasn’t he the doctor they shit-talked?” She laughed again, the gesture somehow coming off as affectionate, your heart soaring at the sound of her beautiful laughter.

“No, honey, Ladislaw is the artist. Mr. Lydgate is the doctor, and he marries Rosamond Vincy”, she reminded you again, her smile audible.

“And will they end up together, Ladislaw and Dorothea?”

“You’ll just have to listen to my story and find out.” You couldn’t help but to grin so widely that your cheeks hurt. There was something about the way she spoke to you, the way she treated you that made your insides melt. She was gentle, but assertive with a hint of playfulness to her. She made you want to hear more, to learn more, so, you listened. You listened and listened, clutching a pillow to your chest as she told you the unfolding of events in her own style, allowing you to state any questions that might have arisen along the way. There was a lot of talk about money and class, marriages and relations, so much so that it was sometimes hard to keep up, especially when more characters were introduced, but she did her best to include small reminders like monikers and titles to help you follow along. “After the fight they have, Mr. Casaubon ends up having a heart attack and later on dies, which is when we learn about his will that says if Dorothea is to marry Will Ladislaw, she is to lose her entire inheritance.”

“No! I wanted them to end up together”, you gasped, nearly bouncing up from the bed.

“I know, me too”, she lamented, a soft sigh sounding from the other end of the line.

“That’s it? She has to choose between going broke or being with the one she loves?”

“Not exactly because as of now, Dorothea doesn’t think of Will that way and she is appalled by her husband’s lack of trust in her”, she explained, continuing on with the story, filling you in on the lives of all the characters involved in the current events of the book, giving you insight on what each of them thought about the situation. You noticed yourself fall into the world of Middlemarch, getting thoroughly invested in the characters that had seemed so plain and boring at first glance. Natasha had a way of describing people and events, she knew how to word things eloquently, the story falling from her lips like she knew it by heart, like she would have been reading an abridged version of it to you. It made you wonder why the book meant so much to her because there was nothing she could say anymore to convince you otherwise. There was a connection between her and the book, something that spoke to her personally, something that created emotional value. You would have wanted to know the story behind her and Middlemarch, but you didn’t dare to disturb her. “They solve the money affairs, and Dorothea offers to pay Lydgate’s debt to Bulstrode. She goes over to the Lydgates to bring the check, but she ends up finding Will Ladislaw there with Rosamond.”

“What? Wha- what- Doing what?” Natasha chuckled at your question and the obvious disbelief in your tone, pleased to know that you weren’t just following along to the story, but you were also entertained by her manner of retelling.

“Holding hands.” You gasped, the sound followed by yet another discreet laugh from her.

“How dare they? Might as well show him her ankles too!” You couldn’t help the wide grin that found your lips when you heard that your comment only prolonged that wonderful, melodic sound of laughter that came from her.

“I know, right? Rather scandalous if you ask me. However, this sends Dorothea into a fit of internalized rage which later on comes out in hours’ worth of crying.”

“Feels a bit dramatic. I mean it’s just hands”, you reasoned quietly, although you had no room to judge, not when you had cried over a stranger you had fallen in love with at first glance. “Couldn’t they have talked it through?”

“I get it”, she hummed, somehow in an even softer tone than before. “Hands are intimate. You do everything with your hands. You connect to the world around you through your hands. You feel, you touch, you leave a mark. I wouldn’t let just anyone hold mine.”

“Oh… when you put it like that. Yeah… yeah.” You both sat in silence for a while, in a comfortable, serene silence that could only be found in the middle of the night before she spoke again.

“If I saw the very hands that were meant to touch me, hold me, love me, in someone else’s…” She didn’t finish the sentence, failing to find words adequate enough to describe the feeling. “I don’t blame Dorothea in the slightest.” You thought about her hands, recalling the way she had held yours when she had smelled your wrist. Her touch had been gentle, delicate, so intimate especially when you looked back on the memory with the new information you had just acquired. You could tell she felt deeply. She was soulful, someone who understood sentiment, someone who perhaps saw more than others. “There were two living forms that tore her heart in two.” Her tone shifted, turning more formal. “As if it had been the heart of a mother who seems to see her child divided by the sword.” You realized that she was reciting the book, reading a passage to you, or maybe even voicing it from memory. “And presses one bleeding half to her breast while her gaze goes forth in agony towards the half which is carried away by the lying woman that has never known the mother’s pang.” The line went silent again for just a moment. “That’s how she describes it.” You didn’t know how to respond, the heaviness of her words taking up all the space in your cozy bedroom as you went over the passage in your head. You would have to actually read the book after your assignment was over so that you could give it the time and energy it needed –required.

“That’s beautiful”, you whispered after a while, feeling in awe of the sense of vulnerability that she had created. “Kind of gut-wrenching”, you admitted softly, hearing her hum in agreement.

“It’s a good book. Hopefully you’ll get the chance to actually read it sometime.” She was moving at the other end of the line, quiet rustling sounding through the phone.

“I will. I’ll make sure to read each and every word.” You wanted to promise it to her, you wanted her to know how much you valued not only the book but also her willingness to share her thoughts on it with you. “It’s a shame you have to spoil it for me.” She chuckled.

“A shame indeed. Do you have an assignment due tomorrow?” She asked.

“Oh no, tomorrow is class discussion and then I’ll have to write a small essay on a topic of choice”, you explained, hiding your yawn by moving the phone away from you as you rubbed your eye, your blurry vision making you feel like you were going partially blind from how tired you were.

“Well, in that case, I’d say you’re doing okay so far.” You huffed softly at her comment.

“I just wish I had more time, but I have three other assignments due next week, so this one will most likely end up being generic crap that the professor has heard a thousand times before.” It was not typical of you to feel bad about poorly done assignments, but the Middlemarch assignment had suddenly acquired a whole new meaning to it. You had someone much more important to impress with your work. You wanted Natasha to know that you were good at what you did. You wanted her approval more than you wanted your professor’s. You wanted to discuss the book with her, you wanted her to think that you had good opinions, that you were smart.

“Are you free tomorrow?” You struggled to process her words in your tired brain, trying to recall your schedule for the following day.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Come to the library after your lecture. We can write the assignment together. I’ll bring coffee.” You paused completely. Had she dived into your brain and dug through your daydreams? There was no way she didn’t know all the stupid fantasies you had of her. It couldn’t just be coincidence, but how could she possibly know when the only person aware of the things you dreamed of was you?

“My lecture is pretty early though. It ends at 11:45. If you have work or something…” You wanted to know what she did with her time, if she had a career of some sorts, but to your dismay she hadn’t said a word about any possible profession or studies. She was still a huge mystery to you.

“I’ll be there. How do you want your coffee?”

“Hmm, surprise me.” You smirked a bit groggily, adjusting your position to get more comfortable, the phone screen that was pressed to your cheek burning up from the length of the call. You were sure your battery wasn’t far from running out. “So how does the story end?”

And so, she continued spoiling the ending for you, finishing her retelling with a happy and satisfactory ending, at least in your opinion. You yawned quietly, nuzzling into your sheets, so comforted by the warmth they provided you, her soothing voice right by your ear, your eyes shutting on their own, the large mug of coffee you had consumed hours ago doing nothing to keep you awake. The world went quiet, silent, even the little sounds of the early morning, the pitter-patter of rain, the wind, the creaking of the old house, fading into oblivion as sleep took you, swallowing you whole into the dark abyss of dreamland.

“Y/N?” Natasha’s voice sounded from the other end of the line, but you didn’t budge. “Y/N?” She tried again but heard no response. She waited for a moment longer, an affectionate smile playing on her lips as she listened to your even breathing. “Good night, krasotka”, she whispered eventually when no answer came, ending the call right before the clock had the chance to strike six in the morning.

A/N: I just posted another chapter of my smut collection that is a sequel to this story on my ao3!