#people that need feeding: 1400

[alltherelicsofalifelonglived]

what if i just lit the entire kitchen on fire

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Courtroom Obsession pt.1

y/n is an ADA assigned to Special Victims Unit. She’s been dating Olivia Benson for the past couple of months and despite their crazy workload things have been going great between them. This is until y/n’s office is flooded with mystery flower deliveries that don’t seem to stop.

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: y/n has a stalker, it's mild in this one tho, lil makeout sesh.

Genre: Mostly Fluff, will lead to angst.

Word Count: 1400+

A/N: Would you look at that, I finally wrote something! This is a part 1 of what will probably be a 2/3 part mini series. Covers a square of my bingo.

It started with flowers. You didn’t think much of it, after all being an attorney meant that sometimes you would receive gifts from grateful families for getting a conviction. But the flowers kept coming throughout the week, all kinds of bouquets bound together with ribbons, sometimes even placed in white twined baskets, with no notes attached. You looked at the colourful petals displayed in your office, the white lilies perfectly complimenting the vibrant colours of tulips and irises. The types of flowers varied in each of the bouquets, but it was never roses. You hated roses. 

After a few days you started thinking it was your girlfriends doing, who else would have known this small rose-hating side of you. 

When you finished work on a Friday evening, you headed straight to Olivia’s apartment, hopeful to finally get a free weekend after closing multiple cases during the previous week. Considering the field both of you were working in and the recent increase in cases you’ve barely seen each other outside of the precinct for the past couple of weeks. You’ve only been dating for a few months, although things were official between the two of you, you opted to keep the relationship private from work. You aimed for your professional relationship to remain unchanged and as far as you were aware it was working. After all the last thing either of you have wanted was to become the centre of attention of the 16th precinct and 1 Hogan Place. 

The uber ride, although long, was very peaceful. You looked out the window at the streets of New York City that were beginning to fill with the darkness of dusk, taking in the sight of people rushing down the streets, probably hurrying to their homes before the city was consumed by darkness. After what felt like eternity you finally arrived at your destination, thanking the driver and handing him the cash, with a few extra notes as a thank you for not bothering you too much during the ride. 

You used the key Olivia gave you just a few weeks earlier to open the apartment door, just as you entered the space you smelled the array of scents of what you presumed to be Olivia’s cooking, wafting through the air, filling the space with warmth. You smiled to yourself while taking your shoes off, before following the aromas deeper into the apartment.

Olivia was standing in the kitchen, fully consumed by preparing on of your shared comfort meals and as it turned out, one of her specialties. You always begged her to teach you how to make the signature mac and cheese, but she always joked that if she let you in on the secret you wouldn’t need her anymore, hence keeping the recipe hidden away from you.

 You took in the sight of her, she was wearing a checked apron on top of her comfy clothes, her hair was in a half-up-half-down style, with a little bun on top back of her head. The domesticity of it almost melting your heart.

“You’re staring, again.” she said softly as she turned around to face you, with a warm smile on her face.

“I can’t help it; you just look really cute.” you laughed, as you kept shamelessly staring at your girlfriend. 

“Here, try this.” the detective reached out to you with a forkful of the broccoli she roasted to go with the dish, always adamant to up your vegetable intake. 

 You gratefully accepted the food, opening your mouth and letting Olivia feed you. You practically moaned at the tease of the perfectly roasted broccoli, making her smile. “This is so good.” you added when you finished chewing the food.

“I’m glad you like it my love” she whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead before getting back to cooking. 

You watched Olivia gracefully move around the kitchen for a little longer, before wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on the back of her shoulder. She hummed and gently leaned into your embrace, happy to finally get to spend some time with you and you had no plans on letting her go now. 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, Olivia effortlessly finishing grating the additional cheese and you only restricting her movements a little bit.

“You can stop hugging me now, you know?” she laughed while you only tightened the grip you had around her.

“No, I don’t think I can” you giggled and placed a kiss in the crook of her neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too sweet girl.” She turned around in your arms to face you, cupping your cheek she placed a soft kiss on your lips. One of your hands moved from her waist to the back of her head deepening the kiss. Her lips moved against yours in perfect harmony, you pulled her closer to you, desperate for the contact as she traced your bottom lip with her tongue, making you smile into the kiss. She reluctantly pulled away “If you keep this up the dinner is gonna get burned”  

You giggled and placed one last peck on her lips. “You know I wouldn’t mind, I’m sure it would still be better than that disaster of a carbonara I made before”

“It wasn’t that bad” she laughed before getting back to the task she was occupied with before you successfully distracted her.

“Oh really? How about I make it again this weekend then?” you asked raising your brow at the detective. The carbonara was indeed that bad and both of you were fully aware of it.

“Okay maybe I’ll stay on the food duty for now, but you can watch!” you laughed at her statement, happy with the offer as you didn’t want to risk poisoning your girlfriend with your cooking.

You moved around the kitchen in silence, while Olivia continued working on finishing the meal, when everything was either fully out of the oven or with only a few more minutes left to go you finally broke the silence in the room.

“Thank you for the flowers by the way.” you whispered looking at her, a warm smile spread across your face. “they’re beautiful.”

“What flowers?” she questioned, not having a clue what you were referring to.

“The ones that were coming into my office the whole week?” you raised your brow, now also confused. “I assumed they were from you since there was no notes and none of the bouquets had roses in them.”

“No, they weren’t from me but now I wish they were.” she looked at you, a slight glimpse of worry in her eyes. “Is there someone I should be concerned about?”

“If by that you mean whether there is some rookie detective or ADA waving their eyelashes at me then absolutely not” you assured her, brushing her through her hair with the tips of your fingers. “I’m sure they were from the families from previous cases, you know they like to show their appreciation for getting the perps convicted.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” she said letting out a deep sigh.

“Hey, no need to get worried.” you gently cupped her cheek as you looked into her eyes. “I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”

“I know you are.” she ducked her head down a little “But you are also my girl, so I am going to get worried regardless.” Her hand softly rubbed your back as she burried her face in the crook of your neck.

The rest of the evening as well as the following days passed and before you knew it you were getting ready to return to the office on a Monday morning. You and Olivia slept in that day so both of you hurried to get ready and rushed out of the apartment, taking your respective rides to your workplaces.

When you entered your office, a white basket filled with tulips, lilies and dahlias as well as small strands of forget me nots was nestled in the middle of your desk. You examined your surroundings before examining the basket itself. It looked like every other one you received the previous week, although this time it came with a small envelope attached to it. You opened it, finding a rather simple card inside, with a handwritten note. 

“Can’t wait to see you again, V.”

***

Taglist: @bratty-subby-girly @ashbones

Join my taglist here, or DM me to be added <3

[sirfrogsworth]

I like how the activity page truncates bad takes.

TERFs are so efficient that their argument turns to shit almost immediately and you literally only need a sentence and a half to see it.

Who said there is no biological sex?

Also, another person said "my numbers were wrong" because I didn't post the number of people on blockers and hormones.

Because I was talking about surgeries.

Those are different things.

But even if I did include teens on blockers and hormones, you're looking at about 6,000 folks. That is still statistically nothing. My point would have held just as true.

And then they said my surgery numbers were wrong because they only included people who used health insurance.

Yes, I'm sure there are tons of extra uncounted surgeries from independently wealthy trans teens.

They said there are 42,000 diagnosed with gender dysphoria every year. Which, again, is minuscule. There is no reason an issue this small should be getting the attention it is.

Like, 42,000 is almost exactly the number of auto accidents that kill people each year.

We do almost nothing about it.

We still get in our cars every day. We don't try to ban driving. There isn't really any effort to decrease that number. As a society, we have accepted that number of people is worth losing so we can get from place to place.

But with trans youth NO ONE IS DYING from gender affirming care. The parents and the kids/teens *want* this healthcare. They are satisfied with the outcome. And when they finish their transition as adults, nearly all of them have no regrets.

Yet we are passing laws banning everything from going to the bathroom, to kids playing soccer, to a few *thousand* teens taking medications, to a few *hundred* getting top surgery, to even wearing the wrong gender clothing out in public.

We do almost nothing about 40,000 dying in auto accidents.

But this is the reaction to gender affirming care?

The priorities are ridiculous.

They are trying to save people who don't want to be saved.

And we could totally reduce that auto accident figure. If we put the same time and energy and money into that, we could lower that number. We could fund research for safer cars. Build safer roads. Create smarter traffic systems. Fix road infrastructure. Treat alcoholism more aggressively.

But no. We need to hold weeks of legislative sessions on gender affirming care. We need to pass hundreds of laws. We need to ban 8 kids from playing sports. We need to stop 300 teens from getting top surgery. We need to prevent 4000 from getting hormones and another 1400 from getting blockers.

Meanwhile, those same politicians are voting against free school lunch programs. 11,000,000 kids are food insecure. Why in the hell did we spend months stopping 6,000 young people from getting healthcare they want and need instead of feeding MILLIONS of kids?

Make it make sense.

[teaandransacking]

okay hear me out; the concept of five times… and the one time.. with lockwood and reader, where they are in a secret relationship, maybe reader could be kipps sister to give a reasons why they can’t tell anyone. and then just five times (or less idk) they were nearly caught and the one time they were?? i think that would be amazing, also i’m a sucker for forbidden romance trope so…

I love this. I hope I did it justice for you.

Words: 1400 ~ Content: angst, kissing, forbidden relationships

clandestine meetings and longing stares

This is a public place. We’re not doing anything wrong.

It’s true. The Archives is a public place. Where people go to study.

Except that’s not what you and Lockwood are doing.

Not that you’re defiling the books here or anything. You’re just stealing a moment together.

Towards the back of the first floor, in the stacks of the Ancient History section, where hardly anyone goes, Lockwood has you pressed up against rows and rows of leatherbound books.

He’s so close that you can see tiny flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes, make out a few stray hairs on his jaw that he missed shaving this morning.

You settle your hand over his heart, feel the rhythm of it beating.

You’d like to do this in public. Hold his hand in front of everyone; claim him as yours.

There’s just one problem: Quill Kipps is your big brother, and if he found out, there’d be hell to pay.

Lockwood’s nowhere near good enough for you, he always mutters.

And isn’t Anthony’s life hard enough already? An orphan by the age of 6, and responsible for Lucy and George (not that they need taking care of) at 17, he has worries galore without adding sneaking about with you to the list.

But he loves you. You feel it in his hand at the small of your back, hear it in the timbre of his buttery smooth voice when he says your name.

“Lockwood-” you begin, but he presses a gentle finger to your lips.

“Shh. Listen.”

And sure enough, you hear it. The swish of rapiers against clothes. Other agents are here.

You spring apart, you tucking yourself around a marble pillar just in time to see your brother approach.

You’re safe. 

This time.

—- ---

The second time, it’s George who saves your bacon. He’s known for weeks; he was the first one to figure it out, because of course he was.

The three of you are in a little cafe a stone’s throw from Covent Garden, drinking tea and sharing cake. Lockwood feeds you bites from his own fork and you reciprocate, while George playfully rolls his eyes about how sickeningly domestic it is.

You’re laughing and brushing a bright pink angel cake crumb from Lockwood’s mouth when George suddenly knocks his cup of tea right into your lap, and when your gaze cuts to him he mouths: Go.

A second later, you hear your brother’s voice at the cafe counter and you disappear into the bathroom.

—- ---

The third time is a very close call.

Lockwood’s shimmied up the tree outside your window. Your heart jumps into your throat every time he does this, especially because it’s usually after dark.

When he taps on your window, you let him in right away. He’s windswept and his skin is cold from the winter air. He smells of crisp fallen leaves and earl grey tea, and you kiss the confident smile off his face.

“Lockwood,” you say when he’s safely seated on your bed. “We have to stop this.”

He tugs you close, pulling you between his legs so your back is to his front. “Don’t ask that of me. Please.”

You turn and kiss him. “No. I mean, sneaking around. Quill will have to just deal. I mean, we face terrifying Visitors on the daily, but him finding out you and I are together is worse? I don’t buy it.”

“He hates me,” Lockwood murmurs, tangling his fingers with yours. He sighs. “And maybe he’s right. You can do better.”

You twist in his arms. “You shut up right now. You’re the best person I know.” He still looks so sombre, so you add, to make him laugh, “Except George. Of course.”

“Except George,” he agrees, but his seriousness is for show now, and the little glimmer of happiness on him makes your heart soar.

He leans down for another kiss, and his mouth is delectable, and you turn fully in his embrace to line your bodies up.

You’ll never get enough of him, you think as you slide your hands into his hair, pulling him closer still. Your tongues tangle, and when he breaks the kiss you lean back so he can drop kisses down your neck.

The sound of your name from outside the door makes you go rigid.

It’s your brother.

He knocks. “Are you in there?”

“Shit!” You breathe.

You practically push Lockwood off the bed. “Hide. Hide!”

He scrambles under the bed and you stuff your quilt in behind him just as Kipps opens the door to find you reclining on bed with your over-ear headphones on.

“Would you knock?” You exclaim.

He frowns. “Sorry. I - why is your window open? Aren’t you freezing?”

—---

The fourth time, everyone’s in the dark - literally.

You’re all working together, Lucy, Lockwood and George, and Kipps and his crew, including you. The basement of the creepy old church is silent around you. You only have the one torch, but Kipps wants to survey the space without light at first, to get the lay of the land.

By some divine providence, you’ve ended up crouching next to Lockwood, and you startle when he takes your hand, only to relax when you feel his familiar rapier-callused palm.

You don’t dare to speak, but you rest your shoulder against his. 

His fingers start to move on the flat of your palm, and you’re confused for a second until you realise that he’s tracing letters on to your skin, with full stops in between to demarcate the words.

I.

Love.

You.

It makes your heart swell as you imagine him saying the words, imagine his gaze holding yours, strong and sincere.

And then Bobby loses his nerve and switches his torch on, and all hell breaks loose, and the moment is lost.

—--

The fifth time, you don’t even try to hide it.

It’s the aftermath of a huge battle. Several Type Twos. Not enough agents.

When the fog from the salt and smoke bombs clear, Lockwood’s lying on the ground a few feet away, next to your brother. You crawl over, see your brother stirring, but Lockwood isn’t.

Desperate, your heart clenching, you kneel by his prone form, cupping his face with both hands.

“Lockwood. Anthony,” you beseech softly.

Kipps sits up, but you ignore him. You settle your fingers on Lockwood’s pulse point.

It’s sluggish, but it’s there.

Relief makes you weak as Lucy, George and Bobby crowd around.

“He’s just playing-” Kipps begins.

“Shut up,” you snap. 

He recoils but says nothing else.

“Lockwood, wake up!” You plead, patting his face.

Around you, Lucy and George look stricken and pale.

You wait for what seems like an eternity, but then Lockwood lets out a little cough.

“Help me sit him up,” you tell your brother, and to his credit, he responds right away, and between you you prop Lockwood up against Kipps’ chest.

“You’d better not die,” Kipps mutters. “My sister will never be happy again.”

Your gaze flits to your brother’s face.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Neither you or Lockwood are as clever as you think you are.”

Lockwood’s eyes flutter open at that moment. “Good to hear that normal service has resumed, Kippy,” he groans.

You lean in and kiss his dear face. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been thrown around like a ragdoll.” But he smiles, and some of that Lockwood bravado lights up his eyes. “But getting to kiss you in front of everyone just might be all I need to recover.”

You laugh and kiss him again. Kipps makes a face, but doesn’t protest.

“You don’t mind?” You ask, still cuddling in close to Lockwood.

“Hard to mind when he saved my arse literally ten minutes ago.”

“Aww,” Lockwood coughs, still weak. “Kippy and I are having a moment.”

Kipps shoves Lockwood off him. “As long as you never, ever refer to us having a moment again, we’re good.”

The whole hang of you walk home together, you and Lucy supporting Lockwood between you, and, you think:

We’ll be all right.

[bitter-panacea]

Goultard's backstory, comparing the Dofus manga and the special episode Part 4 - The Horrors part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

(Look at this little shit, what an absolute bastard. Teehee I killed everyone you love.)

Katar keeps joking and mocking him "Hello? See, I didn't lie. They will never want for anything anymore.". This line calling back to what he says earlier "I assure you they want for nothing" works better than what he says in the manga imo. More personality, more unhinged.

Katar : Ah yes, I lied a little earlier... I had to eliminate them before your arrival. / Goultard : Kiki... Talk to me... Children, daddy's here.. I... I'm going to take care of you...

Goultard : Please! Tell me I'm dreaming... No.. My children

In the manga, Katar goes on about how he got rid of what was holding Goultard down, that Goultard should thank him for freeing him of all this weight he had chained himself to, that he's a warrior and not meant to be a family man.

There's a recurring motif/symbolism with Goultard and chains... The one used to kill his family that he still carries with him, but also his own literal and metaphorical chains when he was posessed and imprisoned. Showing he's made his pain into his strength, or possibly showing how these chains are such an integral part of who he is that he even fights with them.

He's still a prisoner. He craves a simple family life but as the son of Iop he's doomed to never be able to achieve it/keep it. Too strong for his own good. This power and responsibility inherently make him a target. Something something the sword of Damocles hanging over his head... People who'd try anything to dominate him to prove themselves more powerful, people who want to manipulate him so they can use him like a living weapon. Even when he's idolized he's always dehumanized and reduced to a nature he cannot control and does not want. I'm listening to Literally My Life as I'm writing this and losing touch with reality I do not know whhy I'm doing this??

In the special episode Katar doesn't ramble for hours like he does in the manga. Katar gets his sword, Mashwar, out of him (gross).

I love watching him fight. His moves are always so fun and elaborate. Just look at him go. Yippee!

In the manga, Goultard has a little moment in the middle of the fight where he says this.

Goultard: Everything... Everthing is my fault...

Totally normal conclusion. Yes Gou, everything bad that's ever happened to you and everyone you love is entirely your fault and blaming yourself is both rational and helpful.

He's in despair/rage mode and Katar doesn't last long.

Get on top of him and strangle him with a chain... Cool. I'm loving that 3d chain also

The manga, tragically, doesn't have the iconic headbutts :(

Goultard : Before I kill you... Tell me why!

Then, for a whole page, Katar explains why he had to kill Goultard's family, he had been trying to make "him" leave for so long, but for this he needed to make Goultard evil, he needed Goultard to be strong and angry. He even apologizes to him for what he's about to go through.

In the special ep, Katar only says one sentence, "because it feeds on anger".

Enter the Symbiote.

Oh baby, you are in trouble...

Goultard : Something is inside me! I feel... Different!

Goultard understands Katar gave him his curse and kills him. (No worries, he'll come back as a zombie 1400 years later)

Oh my god is this finally the end? Yes.

Conclusion : Help. I can't even remember why I started this.

[bikinginthetardis]

Day 46

Tuesday

191.8

Water- plan 64 oz- HIT goal! Might drink more water later though. Hope a lot of this water retention is going away- sure am peeing a lot. Isn't it weird that drinking water actually gives you less water weight?

Exercise- plan going on a walk. Walked the dog for 30 minutes with hubby and kiddo. My friend that I walk with on Tuesdays is super sick with a fever.

Food- tracker put me at 1401 cal 81 g protien 143g carbs 53 g fat. But I had less. I couldn't finish my dinner and I didn't adjust it.

Well, it sure is easier to trust the process and view my gains and losses as a science experiment when I am back on the losing side of it 😅

Funny thing is I don't feel like I weigh less weight today 🤣 I feel sore from my work out, weighed down by eating a ton of pot roast late at night, and I feel exhausted because I drank coffee last night late and didn't go to bed til 3am. I got like 6 hours of sleep last night. I would still be asleep but I have some important calls coming up. One I am confused because I got a text that I am invited to a secure call at 10 but I am 100% sure I was scheduled for 1pm. So I have to be up incase it is at 10😭

With me volume eating I think it is going to be super easy to make my calories lower when I get smaller and need less. Seriously I have to eat my dinner in two parts today because it is so huge but I have the calories for it (bumped up my goal to 1628 this week because I am going to work out 5 days this week and the PT said I can eat that much and still lose about 1lb a week with exercise). I could totally turn this 666 cal dinner into the 400 cal range no problem.

I think next week I will drop it to 1400 calories since I won't be ovulating or on my period.

I'm also just playing around with the mental aspect. When I had calories set to 1175 I had a few days of serious binging. Idk if it is bc my body needed more food, bc I was on my period, or just because I had events (saw my brother/a wedding) - let this science experiment continue!

1 am now and I am going to try to go to bed. I LOVED my night time snack- yogurt, orange, shrimp with cocktail sauce. It is the type of movie snack my body loves too.

BUT I did the nastiest food thing I ever did in my life. Yesterday after costco, somehow, my case of yogurt got put in the pantry 😬😭😱 I didn't notice until today, almost 24 hours later. But I smelled it and tasted it, and it seemed fine. So I put it in the fridge. 🤫Don't worry, I won't feed it to other people, and I will toss it if I get sick.

[jamieroxxartist]

Thanks, everybody for your continued patience in regard to www.PopRoxxRadio.com We (my wife Dani and me and some various other very helpful people) have been having a ton of brainstorming meetings etc.

It's a big job, with lots to do (we have over 1400 shows in the archive that have to be remastered, cleaned up, and scrubbed of any branding that no longer applies.) It's a big job doing that and moving those. Changing all the feeds to over 800 podcasting streaming sites etc..

And then Learning how to do Video! I feel like I'm back in school and cramming or something. Oh and also getting the new equipment and tools and everything, figuring out how that works. Remember folks I don't even have a cell phone, so I'm a little behind when it comes to heavy-duty tech stuff. But I am experienced enough to know that I need to learn all of this myself, so I'm not relying on someone else and keep and overhead watch on all the moving parts. But we are making progress. There is a forward Movement. And that's a good thing. We are looking at the official launch mid-June.

You know, on top of this always at the same time whenever anything is happening is my commissioned painting work (that's the 'Day Job.' So many people think I am a podcaster who paints on the side. Nope! it's the opposite. I am a Painter who has a podcast. Always been that way.

[the-firebird69]

สตาร์ทเท้าในตำนาน #harleydavidson #motorcycle #bigbike #bigbikethailand ...

My son list It lifted up the 1400 Harley Davidson motor and it was from a particular match and it's a chopper style hard not kicker 5150 like this but this is not it this is Donald Trump and this is about number 50 and it has a famous maximum engine the Mac engine that our son put in there and he didn't know who it was he was deceased and they got mad at her son and he didn't know anything and they're nuts but they didn't do too much because they knew it was forced and get more mad at them and they started acting they keep doing that horse s*** but it's not why it was because he did something that was hard not deadly or dangerous we're not getting picked on so it's kind of a psychological thing and really if the bike came back I mean what would you do not much sit on it and he has never sat on it by the way and the bike would sell and they'd be mad at him again cuz he was and it says I don't want to sit on that one just got your ass print on it so everybody started laughing cuz he says all these rude s*** things so it's not my fault it's Big Joe. Is Sasquatch is throwing trees in them then they started bawling they said no way there's a guy throw trees at you holy s*** watch out for that thing. He rides up there it is motorcycles going to throw the motorcycle at him they weigh about the same actually the motorcycles a lot lighter. It says about half and they started bawling with laughter he said what are we talking about he said the ships are still there you screaming like a maniac I got to tell you something the ships are still there and these Max are underground all over the place in these huge bunkers we have an emergency Trump says and we do but the original bike is somewhere in westborough and John remillard is evil but he wants to do what Randall text Cobb did and be a hero it killed Randall text car he couldn't survive it he's gone permanently and my son and daughter remind me once again and yeah we don't like him but he might let him get away with it he's in Italy underground and he's the enemy of the max in there holding there on purpose to get him back what he did.

So my son and daughter say whoopty ding dong they said it out loud. So the motorcycle had a place and Bob Jr put it somewhere and Bob seger knows where it is and no it's not in the grave with him that's funny though some people think that it's not in the movie Ghost Rider either they do find them they're in the movie easy Rider they find them but he should be the first to sit on it and Bob never sat on it no he did the famous Mac his bike it was he was a Big Mac okay a big fella and it makes sense for rank is what Bob said and he says yeah probably he's like a sergeant so he liked it he said he organized his troops and get something to do stuff and he goes in and that's what he was thinking and he was thinking about sergeant and he says I don't know I think it's about the rank although this big guy is a different guy but that's to come down the line sometimes get bigger but they do it on purpose I think they try to do it and so he says how are they doing that this is I don't know that's a good question so he asked around and he says they're from a bigger guy and that's what they say then we figured out that they're taking the growth stuff and they're eating very well and they nurture the baby and they feed them certain nutrients and that's what they're doing and people are going to try it but that's that's how it works to mutate him to become our son you have to know what you're doing but some people will try it it'll make him a little bit bigger each generation they get a bigger and bigger but it takes time and effort hardly anyone has it and this stuff is easier and needed. So our son says he probably has in the barn underneath the floor which is typical for Bob and for the big guys and it's Max barn and he still owns it and he probably has his dirt bikes there and would keep that there and it's probably not secure and it's probably true and his is there cuz he died before he could secure it and you couldn't get to move and Mac is going to go there and he says you can't do it yourself and I'll send it saying you can't you should let Ben Arnold do it he says you can't do that either I didn't say that he did I'm acting he says he says why it doesn't actually just come for you and to be over and he says I don't want you to say that I don't want you to sit on it and us to look bad anymore so he's going to head out there

Thor Freya

Olympus

[belamuse]

Saint Sinéad

Shuhada, May you fly free.

“Children say that people are hung sometimes for speaking the truth.” Joan of Arc, 1400s

“Put your fucking seatbelts on ’cause I haven’t finished yet.” Sinéad O’Connor, SPIN 1992

Singer. Banshee. Advocate. Priest. Theologian. Mother. Bold. Brave. Muslim. Life-long nonconformist. Feminist. Human.

I’ll never forget the SNL episode when she tore the pope’s photo in half after singing Bob Marley’s War. No one did that. No one was brave enough to speak truth like that.

I bought combat boots that year and later wore them out walking all over town during the national changes in 1992. Inspired to be a social sciences major and music minor because of the spirit of the revolutionaries, from the 1800’s and 1900’s—youth, women, men, poets, writers, the truth tellers, the artists and musicians who spoke truth- real truth- against hypocrisy, against insanity, against a system that would kill them or exile them for having the audacity to speak truth. To be a free thinker.

I thought the most incredible destiny at the time was creating art because of and despite the insanity of the lies, the struggle of the human condition. And the journey of the one, the artist inside a collective sea, despite and because of persecution or being gaslit, silenced and all manner of atrocity, yet living on through and beyond. Their art, an eternal message of possibility, freedom and hope.

I’ve been reading a slew of articles that paint Sinéad’s portrait and highlight the spectrum of her human journey through her music, political activism, mental illness, motherhood and spiritual truth finding. She journeyed deep and wide, high and low. She was that destiny, not ego in the harmful sense, Artist. She was not going to change or be what the industry wanted her to be. Her music, her songs lifted up so many of us— the voiceless, the broken, the afraid, the confused, the troubled. She gave feelings and words to millions. She was an angel and a waif, a punk and a rebel, a truth teller and her own wild wolf. She howled and gave us permission to feed and feel the moon.

She was unapologetic. She did not care that what she said or did for the sake of truth and freedom, impacted the socially constructed ideas of what fame or fortune in the music industry are supposed to looks like. That they impacted her musical ‘career’ as the industry explains it, mattered not. Sinéad was a woman of her own making.

“I didn’t have time to think about [becoming famous] before it happened,” she says. “I was singing in clubs and pubs, pubs and clubs… I was just singing for the sake of singing, ‘cause I had shit to get off my chest. I feel like that’s the only reason really [for anyone] to make an album is because they’ll go so fucking crazy if they don’t. If you’re making an album for any other reason you shouldn’t be fucking making it.”

I played her albums on repeat. Some songs and albums more than others, through my youth.

“When I sing, it’s the most solitary state: just me, and the microphone, and the holy spirit. It’s not about notes or scales, it’s all about emotion.”

I cut my hair short. Swore off my insecure, boy-crazy teenage low self esteem superficiality. There was Pre-Revolutionary Angie and then Post-Revolutionary Angie. Like Baba Yaga said, to know too much is to grow too old too soon. I saw too much about the human condition, the cost of freedom and it’s opposite on the human psyche, felt and saw one world dying and another world rising— a world that was being made a golden child— Capitalism! And all I could see and smell was lies and hypocrisy. Yes some of the old needed to die, but some of the soul of the old was being raped by the dollar and that seemed insane to me. I didn’t know how to put in in words or digest it. It was a bone to choke on.

I was only a kid. I struggled mentally with anxiety and depression. An awakening of sorts. But no bearings back home to make sense of it. Sinéad’s music and Russian literature, poetry and music of the revolutions of old helped tremendously during that time. Dr. Zhivago. The Master and Marharita. Anna Akhmatova. Learning about the artist/writer and the struggle for freedom amidst censorship and death. Life, the world didn’t make sense. All the things that didn’t make sense about being a girl becoming a woman, American capitalism, not speaking truth, following social norms, political bullshit, pretense, Beverly Hills 90210 and Melrose place… I rejected all of it. Mostly quietly, silently. While imploding inwards on myself because I didn’t understand transition or how to wake up fully boldly inside of it. Mental breakdown was the label that made sense. Yet it was more, it was that so much of the system was insane. So much of the conditions the inheritance the American myth the gender this and that —-it was insane.

Sinead was like a beacon of sanity amidst all that nonsense. They said she struggled with mental illness too, but she didn’t shut up. Did she have mental illness or did she grow up into a world that was completely entirely a nut job. Sometimes it’s a both and but sometimes the mental illness is the result of being fed insanity.

She didn’t stop saying through music what needed to be said. It was felt through my pores even if I wasn’t fully listening to the words. I freakin loved her. I cried to her songs. They resurrected me.

“Whatever it may bring

I will live by my own policies

I will sleep with a clear conscience

I will sleep in peace

Maybe it sounds mean

But I really don't think so

You asked for the truth and I told you

Through their own words

They will be exposed

They've got a severe case of

The emperor's new clothes

The emperor's new clothes

The emperor's new clothes

The emperor's new clothes”

Sinéad had a hard life. A difficult insane mother. A fucked up religion with its Massoleum of ghosts and secrets. She fought hard against child abuse, sexual abuse, hypocritical lies in the name of god and more. She became a priest. And she sang her own songs in her own way. In one interview decades ago, she said she thought Americans were wussies and needed to be more brave and speak out more against the lies and injustices. She was changed by motherhood. She lived through the painful suicide of one of her beloved children. That changed her. Some stories break you harder. And some stories don’t have a medicine that makes the pain go away.

She converted to Islam and changed her name several times. She took on the Muslim name Shuhada' Davitt – later changing it to Shuhada Sadaqat – but continued to use the name Sinéad O'Connor professionally. Shuhada means martyr.

From what I understand, Islam was the culmination of her spiritual journey as a theologian. She felt home inside of it. She found contentment.

“I never made sense to anyone, even myself, unless I was singing. But I hope this book makes sense. If not, maybe try singing it and see if that helps.”

I haven’t yet read her memoir. I somehow forgot about her in my 30’s and as I lost touch, I didn’t pay to much attention to her music. Her death wakes me up to her story, to my story, to our story of waking up inside a machine, waking up to truth, to life/death/life. May she fly free. May her passing be a wave of wakefulness over our heads, reminding us to be more bold. More truthful. More real.

And lastly, Shuhada… May the words of the great truth teller Pasternak carry you into the arms of Allah and beyond.

“And now listen carefully. You in others-this is your soul. This is what you are. This is what your consciousness has breathed and lived on and enjoyed throughout your life-your soul, your immortality, your life in others. And what now? You have always been in others and you will remain in others. And what does it matter to you if later on that is called your memory? This will be you-the you that enters the future and becomes a part of it.”

Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

[candy-floss-crazy]

8 Heart Attack Burgers

Everyone loves a burger. Well almost, there are some people who replace the beef with patties made from green stuff. Whether that is still a 'burger' is open to debate. Looking around the internet we across this monstrosity below; World's Biggest Burger Containing almost 1800lb of beef (Thats over 700 quarter pounders) this was built to get into the Guinness book of records. It needed a custom built over creating out of a shipping container to fit it in, and comes with 300 pounds of cheese, tomatoes, onions, pickles, and lettuce, sandwiched in a 250lb bun. It is actually on the menu at Mallie's Sports Grill & Bar in Detroit, and costs nearly $8000. Realistically this was a one off burger. Created for a specific purpose. But what else is out there, on regular menu's and considered a normal burger, but comes with enough calories to shorten your lifespan for you pretty smartly. The Heart Attack Grill company make a number of burgers, with names such as triple bypass that contain upto 16000 calories. But this is a gimmicky burger joint, where the whole premise is you are eating unhealthy burgers. What about the regular chains. we are taking a look at what they place on the table; Wendy's Bacon Jalapeno Cheeseburger Triple 1330 Calories Wendy's Bacon Jalapeno Cheeseburger Triple Made with 3 of their famous square patties, it comes with jalapenos, crispy fried onions, cheese and bacon (though being American cheese and bacon we use those terms in the loosest possible sense) and cheese sauce, lots of it. Weighing in at 1330 calories, it also packs a ridiculous two grams of salt, and 4.5 grams of that lovely, heart strangling trans-fat. Carl's Jr. Triple Western Bacon Cheeseburger 1380 Calories Carl's Jr. Triple Western Bacon Cheeseburger Clocking in at an extra 50 calories is Carl's Jr. offering. Famous for their adverts featuring skimpily clad models. Carl's als have a stake in the feed your customers to death stakes. This has almost three grams of fat, though is does cut the trans-fat score down a little, yay! Three charbroiled patties, two strips of bacon, 'American' cheese and crispy fries onion rings add to the experience. Hardee's Monster Double Thickburger 1400 Calories Hardee's Monster Double Thickburger Tipping the scales at 1400 calories, this again has nearly three grams of sodium, but it has upped the Trans-fat score to level with Wendy's at 4.5 grams. 2/3 of a pound of beef, four strips of bacon, three slices of American cheese, and mayonnaise. To put it into perspective its recommended that you consume no more than 2300mg of sodium in a day, this has 2750mg. Wendy's Pretzel Bacon Pub Triple Cheeseburger 1520 Calories Wendy's Pretzel Bacon Pub Triple Cheeseburger The iconic Wendy's square pattie makes a second entry in our list. Three patties, bacon, honey mustard, beer cheese sauce, fried onions, pickles and muenster cheese wrapped in a soft pretzel bun. This manages to break the 1500 calorie barrier at 1520 calories, though surprisingly, the sodium comes down a little to under two grams. Steak 'n Shake 7×7 Steakburger 1660 Calories Steak 'n Shake 7×7 Steakburger We are jumping up the ladder rapidly now, with a 1660 calorie offering from Steak'n Shake. Seven beef burgers, along with seven strips of orange/yellow plastic stuff, sorry American cheese. Added to the calories are 3,800 mg sodium and a whopping six grams of trans fat. This one just looks a mess Whataburger Triple Meat Whataburger 1885 Calories Whataburger Triple Meat Whataburger Climbing ever closer to the magic 2000 calorie barrier, this one looks positively clinical at the side of our last burger. Three patties, layered with the ubiquitous American cheese, topped with a bit of salad. This nudges the 1885 calorie mark, but is surprisingly low in sodium at 2080 gm and only 3 grams of trans fat. (By low we are speaking relatively. It's low in the burger world). As they say 'Whataburger'! Burger King Bacon King 2020 Calories Burger King Bacon King The first of our contenders to break the 2000 calorie barrier. Though the UK version of this is only about two thirds the size. two ¼-pound beef patties, a hearty portion of thick-cut bacon, American cheese, ketchup, and mayonnaise on a sesame seed bun, A full half pound of beef, thick-cut bacon, American cheese (again), ketchup, and mayo on a sesame seed bun, Over four grams of sodium and seven of trans fat. This is a whopper indeed. Heart Attack Grill Quadruple Bypass Burger 16000 Calories Quadruple Bypass Burger You only have to look at it. Nearly 16000 calories. God alone knows how much sodium, trans fat etc they have. It shortens your life just looking at it. All in all there are some real nasty heart attack burgers out there. Read the full article

[riseofthedark]

Self-care

There's a post that just showed up on my feed that I want to discuss. The reason I'm not using the original post in this is that op comes off as somewhat abrasive [now if they truly are or aren't that I don't know].

In their post they say the recent mantra we don't owe anyone anything is a damaging mentality. As life is a collaborative event and we rely upon others we thus owe to others as much as we have to give. I'm not here to attack them (another reason why I'm making this a separate post), but rather am here to give my own thoughts and perspective.

I struggle with words and while I can use them properly in context their definitions tend to be fuzzy at best. As whoever may read this post might have the same issue with words I will define the word owe below.

Owe (verb) - have an obligation to pay or repay (something, especially money) in return for something received

definition taken from Oxford Languages

I struggle with what OP said mainly because I do that. I give in ways of my time, commitments, effort, all of that until I have nothing else to give. This need to give parts of myself until I have nothing else I can give has been instilled in my by my parents since I was a child. As a result giving has become the main way I show affection to people.

As a result i'm burnt out and struggling to survive. Not necessarily money wise (though that's also a struggle) but physically and mentally. OP says "we owe all we're able to give". But that's just the thing, all we're able to give and all that we can reasonably give are very different things.

Think in terms of money, I'll use my own situation as an example.

After taxes I make about $1800 a month total

Taking out every single necessary expense I have about $400 left over. For me to live paycheck to paycheck I only need $1400 on a good month. I am technically able to give my entire paycheck, but someone once told me when you have to say technically it's wrong.

So let's work with what I have, $400. I could give all of that money away since I don't need it. But, this leaves no room for anything else. If that $400 is always given away anything that comes up that I have to pay for that's not accounted for in necessary purchases, has to be bought with the $1400 I do have.

Something will have to give on my side but it can't be that $400 because it's already given away. So maybe i'll go without food for a week or even two because I have to replace something I can't afford otherwise. Anything unexpected I'll have to sacrifice something I need because i've already given something I need to give.

Reasonably what can I give from that $400? Maybe $50. Which, $350 is a lot of money so why did I say I am able to give it away? Because it's not necessary to my survival. But when I can afford it I'm paying for doctors appointments, medication, and currently physical therapy. Now im poor so a lot of that is covered but some it isn't. When all $350 isn't used up I put it in savings so next time something breaks I can replace it without hurting myself in the process.

Now let's talk about time, commitments, and effort. I can't really say no to people so my schedule has to include sleep or i'll try to go without it. Every minute of my day is planned if something unexpected happens I'll just get less sleep, maybe skip eating. After all who really needs hygiene?

When anyone asks me to help or to do something that time-wise I am able do, I do it. If I don't there's this overwhelming feeling of guilt and self hate that I couldn't even do such a simple thing. Typically, showing someone my schedule they ask me how I'm still functioning. It's because the way i've scheduled myself if I miss anything it builds to the point where even trying to get back on track takes at least one mental break down like a "you should come in twice this week for therapy" type of breakdown.

Huh, that got a bit dark for me.....

The phrase "you don't owe anyone anything", is true.

While the context it was originally formed in (general perception) was breaking away from toxic situations. I don't owe my parents my appearance, ideals, or sexual expression because they raised me. I don't owe my work soul breaking labor because they pay me. I am allowed to leave without feeling like I owe them a debt.

One also doesn't have to support the system or try to change the system even though it's done things have either benefited them or been detrimental to them. This isn't to say that life isn't transactional. To get money one has to work. To get services done you have to pay for it. To receive affection you also have to give it. Do I personally think that giving to or helping others is something you should do? Yes. There is no one way of thinking that covers every exception or every circumstance so my way of thinking is just that. My way of thinking.

But for me, I believe that one does not owe tall their able to give just for existing.

[certifiedsolar]

Buying a Solar Panel System in Brisbane Can Cut Your Electricity Bills by Over $1400 a Year

The Sunshine State of Queensland leads the way in solar energy generation. With over half a million roof top systems installed, Brisbane is a popular choice for households who want to reduce their environmental footprint and save money on electricity costs.

Buying a solar energy Brisbane can be a big financial decision. However, it’s a wise one that will pay for itself in the long run. The best solar panels are designed to last for 25 years or more, while the installation is low-maintenance and can be done at a relatively affordable price.

A Solar Panel System in Brisbane Can Cut Your Electricity Bills by Over $1400 a Year

The price of electricity is rising faster than the cost of gas, causing businesses and homeowners to search for ways to control their energy expenses. The average Australian household spends around $1400 per year on their power bills, and in Queensland, this figure can be more than twice that amount.

When you switch to solar power, your energy bills are reduced – and you can even get credits for the excess power you produce in the form of feed-in tariffs. In addition, you can help reduce your carbon emissions by switching to solar.

If you’re considering purchasing a solar panel system in Brisbane, you may be wondering which provider is best for you. We’ve put together a list of some of the most well-known and reliable solar companies in Australia to help you find the perfect fit.

Bradford Energy

This Brisbane-based retailer has been in business for more than 80 years, and offers a range of solar products for both residential and commercial properties. Its products include solar panels, storage units and inverters, as well as monitoring systems.

Its 'Solar Pack' is an ideal option for first-time solar installers, as it includes everything you need to get started with your system. It also has a range of off-grid options for those who need to be completely independent from the power grid.

REA Solar

This Queensland-based provider is a great option for people looking for a new roof top solar system, and is accredited with the Clean Energy Council. Its products include LG and Tesla solar systems, as well as microinverters.

They offer a free quote to customers in Australia, and the prices they show on their site can be quite competitive. Their prices are based on the number of panels and their capacity.

You can calculate the cost of a solar power system in Brisbane by visiting their website and entering some details about your home. This information will be used to generate a quote for the size of system you need.

The Solar Panel Installer in Brisbane You Need to Choose

It’s important to choose a solar company that has been around for a while and takes pride in their work. This will ensure you receive the best value for your money.

There are many national solar companies that advertise on television, the internet and in newspapers. These companies often sell their solar systems at the lowest possible prices, but they’re not designed to last as long as a quality solar panel system.

Certified Solar specializes in providing solar energy and energy storage system installations for commercial and residential projects. We transform our clients’ energy needs by helping them drastically reduce and eliminate their electricity bills, aiming for the maximum return on each investment.

[xoknowssmut]

Portaled Away, Part 3

Jackson was in line in the Bursar's office. He planned on putting in a loan for an apartment for next semester.

His cock was still captured. And he had to get the money to get it back before 7 PM. Convert it to untraceable cryptocurrency. Or this asshole would feed it to his dog.

It was the only way he could figure to get the money in time. He had half. He didn't think half would satisfy his captor.

Three people were ahead of him. It wasn't a time crunch so much as he had to convince the person across the desk he needed the money today for a deposit.

He wasn't expecting the feeling on his dick as he was in line. A pair of lips? A wet tongue? Tracing just under his foreskin?

He was getting a blowjob in line. He'd never get used to this.

The person in front of him moved forward. The hungry mouth on his head was still working. One hand pumping. The other hand cupping his scrotum. Slowly churning his balls. He felt the suction. He felt himself harden. His length wasn't impressive, but he was a bit girthier than most men.

His mind was in a completely different place, and the person behind him gave him a push behind the back. He would be next in line.

The mouth didn't care. It kept sucking. Nursing his manhood. It certainly knew what to do. How to keep him on edge. It felt so good.

The shove again. It was Jackson's turn.

He got to the window, his fingers clutching to hold himself steady to the mouth's ministrations.

"How can I help you?" He couldn't help but stare at her lips as she spoke. He wondered if it was a woman's mouth on his dick right now. He hoped it was. He wasn't homophobic, but he'd never felt attraction to men before. And he couldn't tell from the voice if it was male or female.

"How can I help you sir?" The voice was insistent, irritated. "I need money for an apartment deposit for next semester," Jackson stammered. "I have a roommate and an apartment, but need to put money down for a deposit." He struggled to get the words out without a moan, feeling the hands, lips, and tongue working harder to coax his seed out.

"You realize, sir, that your financial aid package does include full residency in the dorms. You don't need to get an apartment. So this would be at the higher non-essentials rate." He didn't hear, didn't care, just a quick "Yes," before she completed her sentence. "$1400 covers deposit and first month rent. What do I need to sign?"

The clerk's eyes squinted, but Jackson didn't notice. He was so close, trying to keep his composure. She noticed his sweating. "You sure you're not being coerced? There are student services to help you." He gulped, then said, "No. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather." He wiped the sweat from his brow, and wiped it on his jeans. He was literally less than a minute from cumming from the phantom blowjob.

"I'll get the paperwork. Wait here." She left, and he hunched over the window, feeling his seed shoot somewhere. He wasn't sure where.

He felt a thud in his scrotum, and felt a terrible pain a half second later. The asshole has slammed his balls against some surface. He couldn't help but cum though. That jerk had given him the best blowjob of his life, only to torture his balls.

His phone buzzed. "When do you plan to learn?" the text message came up.

"Sir?", the clerk said, "I have your paperwork and your check."

[simptasia]

ohhh it didn’t occur to me that they’d be actual ppl named daniel faraday

[lilkermit14]

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar 

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”. 

Chapter 5: Garlic 

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

Oh

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

----------------------

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including  heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate. 

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.  

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma. 

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

[slashingdisneypasta]

Inkubus x Vampire!Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Always There

Notes:

I think outta all Englund's characters on this blog, I like writing for Inkubus the most. Which is criminal seeing as I write for him the least. I need to change that haha.

Plot: You meet up with a very old friend of yours and you spend some time catching up. And he's so clearly in love with you, its unbelievable and torturous to him that no matter what he does, you don't notice.

Warnings: A very unreliable narrator (In terms of particular other peoples clear feelings for her), BLOOD, DRINKING BLOOD, DRAINING SOMEONE OF BLOOD (But in a sort of polite way? Hah), MENTIONS OF AN ABUSIVE EX PARTNER, vampires and incubus'.

The smell of iron and petrichor fills your nostrils, disgusting and refreshing and also, just... relieving... in equal measure filling you up as you kneel by the victim - the man you'd chosen, - for tonight; A needle and tube attached to a blood bag between your fingers and digging into the poor mans neck.

You hate doing this, knowing this guy will be weak and sick feeling for the next day - maybe two depending on how much you take from him, - without understanding why. But, its for sure better then the alternative- which is just digging in right here and now with your teeth. That's messy, and the marks you leave behind aren't easy to explain away as 'animal attacks' anymore.

You need the blood, but you aren't a savage, jeez. You always catch any new vampire movies or shows together with your daughter and watch those actors with blood all over their chins, and think... How old are these vamps supposed to be?? 300 hundred years old!?

And they don't know how to eat without getting it all over their face?

Pfft! Rolling your eyes, you gently shake your head at the memories of bloody Edward Cullen and Lestat and Damon Salvetore swimming around in your head as watch the man's breathing. To be fair, you love them all - Twilight, Interview with a Vampire, The Vampire Diaries, Nosferatu, Vampires Vs the Bronx, etc, - but that's just because its more fiction then truth- and that's coming from an honest to goodness bloodsucker.

Finally deciding you've taken enough without truly hurting the man, you put pressure on his neck and pull out the needle, carefully wipe away any mess with a cotton ball from your bag and put a band aid on him.

"Now," You talk firmly, softly, as you look into his eyes - which are dull, almost sleeping. A nice touch to the docile state you put your victims, in so they can at least not feel any pain or fear while you're collecting your feed, - , hands on his shoulders. "You're not going to remember this, or me. You're going to get a taxi home," You tuck some money in his shirt pocket, a thank you for his service; Its the least you could do. "Then get into bed and have a wonderful sleep with lots of lovely dreams. Thank you so much."

After you watch the man get up, still in a bit of daze but shaking it off - and not even noticing your presence, crouched down by where he's standing, - and leave the alleyway, you carefully pack away the blood bag and the tube and needle (In a separate plastic bag, for you to clean and sanitise when you get home) in your satchel and finally get back up, wrapping the strap over your head and resting it on your shoulder.

Brushing a hand through your hair, you turn to leave the alleyway and go home- when a familiar voice speaks up from the very back of the alley- and immediately your hopes rise.

"You look even more beautiful every time I see you."

You smile, peering into the darkness. "Oh, that's very sweet... but you and I both know I look like trash. I haven't eaten for a week!" When he just chuckles back, you tilt your head and waive him over. "Come out here so I can see you!; When did you get into town?"

Gracefully - more so then even you can manage, being a goddamn vampire, - Inkubus slips out of the darkness and you're happy to see he looks well. Its been forever since you say him last - 40 years? 70? - and you always have it in the back of your head for some reason that next time you see your friend, it'll be the last time. So its always lovely when he turns up and looks just as healthy as he always does.

"Oh I just got here; Thought I would come see you immediately. Otherwise you might nag at me." This time you chuckle, rolling your eyes. His eyes flicker to your satchel. "Collecting our dinner our we?"

"Yep! Smells like A Negative, my favourite. When was the last time you ate?"

"Ohh, a couple weeks ago. I'm due for my next fill soon, though... any suggestions?"

"No," Scrunch up your nose, you put a lot of emphasis on your response; See, you don't subscribe to the notion that monsters like the two of you have to act all blasé and cocky about the terrible things they must do. Apart from these night time trips to find breathers to bleed, you live a... mostly... normal life! So no- you definitely don't know anyone he can make his next victim.

And Inkubus knows this, which is why he laughs and you roll your eyes again at him, fixing the satchel on your shoulder. "So- " Again his eyes flicker to your bag, this time with meaning. A cheeky grin flits across his lips. "Want to get a drink?"

Smiling, you turn on your heel, you loop your arm through his and lead the way. "So have you been?"

___TIME SKIP___

4 hours later and the two of you are still stewing at a 24-Hour-Diner you frequent - seeing as you don't really sleep that much, - and are onto your 9th drinks at this point. You two may not see each other too often since the 1400's and went your separate ways in the world, but you never go longer then a hundred years - preferably 80 maximum, - without seeing each other and when you do- you have a lot to say. Filling each other in on what you've missed in each others lives is always a... disorientating experience, at times, but you must do it. You couldn't survive in a world where you didn't know what was happening in your best friends life. That would just be too lonely.

See, Inkubus is the only one you know - still, to this day, - who knew you when you were human, aside from the man referred to very nearly exclusively as 'Dick for brains' - being your daughters father, - and while having human friends who can make you feel normal again, is wonderful... so is feeling normal, in what you actually are currently. And that's not human. That's thousands and thousands of years old and a mystery to scientists. And, seeing as he's a literal demon... that's a very easy service for him to provide.

A waitress walks by to pick up you empty glasses and looks oddly at your personal tumbler. You clearly weren't meant to notice, but you do of course, and unassumingly shrug. "Bloody Mary... don't tell." You give her a conspiratorial wink, and she chuckles, walking off.

When you look back to Inkubus, he looks ready to make a joke so you give him a timid shrug. "Well, there is vodka and Tobasco sauce in it!... " He smirks, but lets it go- seeing as your words were funny enough.

"And how is Bethany? Has she seen her father lately...?" Your eyebrows arch, hearing Inkubus ask about him; Dick for Brains, Beth's father and the bane of your long, long existence. Obviously, seeing as the bastard impregnated you with his literal spawn of hell causing you to die during childbirth at age 26 so he could then turn you into a vampire, made you raise your daughter alone- and then returned 20 years later just to turn Beth into a vampire as well and claim that you can all be a 'proper family now'... you aren't a huge fan of the guy. And talking about him you don't do often, as it causes a horrible clenching feeling in your stomach and heart. Luckily, Inkubus is one of the few people who is allowed to make you feel that way. Him, and Beth.

You sigh, taking a slow sip of your drink through the matching metal straw and metal tumbler set Beth got your last mothers day (So as to hide the fact that its blood inside), you wonder what to say... "Beth's great, as always... she's fallen in love with a human, though. That can only end brilliantly." Shaking your head, you look to Inkubus to see his reaction and catch him rolling his eyes, smirking. Yep. "Um, and... yes. There has been contact with Dick for Brains... He recently, like... 20 years ago? turned up at her place in Egypt, and wouldn't leave till I had to fly down there and shoo him away." You grit your teeth. There is so much wrong with that man- you do honestly with you had never met him sometimes. That's horrible, you know, as if you hadn't met him you wouldn't have had Beth and she's the light of your life, but... at times like that instance? When he troubles her?

Its hard to not wish his existence away.

"Do you want me to speak with him?... Again... ?" Your gaze returns to Inkubus again, feeling at ease the moment your minds back in the diner with him and not in your head with Dick for Brains; Eyes softening. The idea is tempting, unbelievably tempting... And it would keep your friend around awhile longer. "That always seems to win you a couple hundred years of reprieve."

Taking a deep, needless breath - an anxious habit, - you set down your tumbler and shake your head. "No, that's okay... thank you for the offer, though. He seems to be giving up, slowly, finally. But damn, its taken him long enough to get the hint, huh?"

"Far too long." Inkubus' voice is bitter and dark, talking about your ex- and his eyes are reading much different. You know if you let him, he would kill Derek... but you cant do that. If anyone's going to kill him, it would be you or Beth, and neither of you are there yet. Inkubus takes a deep breath, relaxing again like a chameleon changing its colours. "Anyway, love; Onto prettier business. How did that thing go, that you had with that Djinn half a century ago. You seemed quite optimistic about that one."

A fluttering of laughter immediately comes out of you and Inkubus' truly cheers up at the sight of it, and you just look at him and shake your head; An awkward toothless smile on your lips. Ha! No.

His brows arch, laughter in his eyes. "Didn't end well?"

"That ended up being the shortest affair I've ever had and that's saying something." Brushing hair back from your face, you chew on your bottom lip. "You'd think after nearly 10 centuries, I'd learn... Oh- wait- make that 10 and nearly a half, centuries... Boy, am I clueless."

"Clueless about what, love?" You're just breathing in to respond, when a cheeky look crosses Inkubus' familiar face. "I mean, you are quiet clueless- about plenty of things. But specifically, this time."

You scrunch up your nose at him in response, grinning, before once again chewing on your bottom lip. "... I'm just not the woman that gets proposed to." You shrug, as if its no big deal; Even though your heart bleeds saying it out loud for the first time, to someone that matters and not just your ex-therapist, Julie. Setting your drink on the table in front of you, you idlily twist it. "Obsessed over and stalked, yes." You grin, a tinge of sadness to it. "Fucked, yes. Dated even, yes. But married?... Ha, no... "

His eyebrows climb up his forehead even more, before he softly smiles and pats your hand. "I asked you to marry me, all those years ago, sweetheart. Remember?" He reminds you gently, and you cant help giving a soft smile back at your well-meaning friend.

"Oh, yes of course I do. That was very sweet, but... I mean for love, you know? Not because I'm pregnant and alone."

Inkubus sighs, slightly frustrated, and leans back in his seat. "Mhmmm... " Rubbing a finger under his nose, he quickly clears his throat. Then he reaches his hand further up your arm to lay it on your forearm, running his thumb comfortingly across your skin. "Love, I'm sure that you'll find someone. Perhaps multiple someone's. Or, maybe, you don't need to find anyone new."

A little smile twitches at your lips as you pick up his hands and hold it on the table in both of yours. "... Maybe." For a split millisecond, your friend smiles. Sighing wistfully, you shrug. "Maybe I can learn to be happy alone. I mean, I like my life. I like my daughter, I like my job, I like my patterns... Maybe I don't need a man." Immediately his smile disappears and he rolls his eyes.

"You definitely don't need a man." He sighs, frowning. "But one can be good for a few things, no?"

"Hey." You set him with a stern look. "I thought we were making me feel better, about not having one?"

"Oh, you're right. I rescind my comment."

"You better." A cheeky grin crosses your face.

He looks back at it, the cheeky grin of yours, and the smile returns to his face.

~

The sun is warming up when you're on your way home, Inkubus beside you with his arms folded carefully behind his his back and your hands stuffed in your leather jacket pockets; One arm linked affectionately through his. You're an odd sight, you're sure, to any early morning commuters. You, and your barely-out-of-college looking self walking so close - and so domestically. A fact that is lost on you but not on the smug demon walking beside you, - to a man that currently looks to be in his 60's-70's age-wise.

Not that either of you care.

"Well, this is my place! Whatdaya think?" You ask, letting him go in order to unlock the door or the townhouse apartment and push open the door. He walks on in past you, looking around and you watch a soft smile grace his handsome features. "You like it?"

"Much better then the hole in the wall you thought was a good idea to show me in Transylvania- took everything in me not to sweep you away somewhere safer... with fewer mould spores... " He turns to look at you over his shoulder, a mischievous smirk on his mouth as you scrunch up your nose at him, before smiling.

"Well then, Mr Judgmental... I guess you don't want to know, that I chose this wallpaper cuz of you."

That definitely catches his attention, more then anything else you've said. He turns around in a full 360, assessing the wallpaper before looking curiously at you. "You... you chose this wallpaper because of... me? How so?"

You shrug, still leaning back against the open front door- sunlight filtering through the doorway. "The colour is very you. Its got 'Inkubus' vibes. You know," Raising your brows at him, you smirk. "Eccentric, full of itself." At that cheeky remark, he says 'Ha ha', sarcastically. "And, I guess, I missed you. Sooo... yeah... wallpaper."

"Hm... " Looking really far too pleased about this, looking a lot more engrossed by the home then before- but mostly the wallpaper. "This place is looking better, suddenly... "

"Like I said- Full of itself." You roll your eyes, laughing. Then you push off the door, push it closed with your foot and then go to pass by Inkubus to hit the livingroom. "Oh! The book! The one we were talking about at the diner- I'll find it for you! Come on- "

"Y/N." A hand curls gently around your arm, at the perfect moment so that you don't get yanked back with the force of your travelling and instead you just coat to a careful halt at Inkubus' side.

Blinking up at him curiously, wondering what he needed you for so suddenly, you tilt your head to the side. "Yes?"

For a good moment, he just looks at you whilst you become worried. What is happening? Every second that passes by, more and more ridiculous ideas cross your mind.

Finally, the man tilts his head slightly in sincerity.

"Sweetheart, are you ever going to see how ridiculously in love with you I am?"

And... for all of the disastrous and ridiculous possibilities that came to mind when he was saying nothing, you had a response. To this, you just stand their dumbly, your shoulders dropping and just looking at him in total shock. "... wel- uh- um... a few more hundred years?" You feel like a ton of bricks has just been dropped on top of you. "Maybe?" You squeak. You actually squeak.

And of course, you squeaked. You'd be surprised if you had managed to keep your composure after a confession like that. Here's this beautiful man, who against all foreseeable odds understands you, and cares about your kid, and whom you love... and somehow he's telling you that he loves you? That, for some reason, he wants you?

Is there something wrong with him?

There must be. Something terribly, horrible, irreversibly offensive that you aren't already aware of.

But you rack your brain and theirs nothing. Nothing, at all, that you can figure that would make you turn away from him right now.

He smiles a little bit at your awkward reaction, and lets go of your wrist in favour of tucking some hair back behind your ear. "Do you quite mind if I kiss you now?"

Your breath hitches, it actually hitches, like a tiny shy anime girl who's giant crush just got down on his knees in front of her for whatever reason, and you have to fight to pull yourself together; Rolling your shoulders back, hands on your hips. Totally, and translucently fake confident. "Um- you know? I don't?"

God, you are a centuries old vampire; Your vernacular should be yards better then this.

And then kisses you.

Oh god- And then he kisses you.

Because you're suddenly struck hard in the face with a million words and phrases, from current to boomer-speak to old fashioned to forgotten, to describe it but mostly you're just wondering why in the world you hadn't been doing this the whole damn time. Your hands find the sides of his coat in order to steady yourself, and pull him closer as you carefully tilt your head into the kiss. It comes so naturally, the kissing does. Between you and him. Its like, despite the bounds of your relationship never having reached this level before, you know exactly how to kiss each other. There's no awkwardness or searching. You just fit.

When finally, you slowly end the kiss, you fail to open your eyes for a good moment, before cracking them open slightly, half lidded and flickering up to his eyes.

And you take a deep, unnecessary breath and step away, torturously out of Inkubus' personal space. "... holy shit." You have so many questions... None of which touch on how exactly you're feeling because you get that much, at least.

But you cant help but wonder why- and for how long this has been brewing and how long exactly that you missed it- and how the hell this is going to work-

He follows you, thank god, a roguish yet soft look on his face. "Maybe we should take this to the livingroom, love. I promise, I can explain everything to you."