#the thirst is strong and unfiltered

[tumbleweed-palmer]

[shisasan]

Picking a single favourite quote might be an impossible task so which quote (or quotes) do you seem to come back to more often than others?

Picking a single favorite quote might truly be an impossible task because there are so many brilliant writers out there whose words have deeply influenced my life. These extraordinary souls have breathed new life into me when I was ready to give up on everything. Without any particular order, these quotes are not intended to enlighten or educate anyone but offer a brief insight into the words I turn to for comfort, inspiration, or understanding when I'm not at my highest self.

I'll begin with my most dearest Hermann Hesse, whom I like to call my Alpha and Omega. He transformed my life from a young age, opening mysterious portals to other worlds and making me feel deeply understood, embraced, with a true sense of belonging. His writing not only awakened my mind to new realms of thought and emotion but also offered immense solace and companionship through his exploration of the human spirit:

"A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal, and sterile life."

"I have always thirsted for knowledge, I have always been full of questions."

"We have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness."

Rainer Maria Rilke, a beautiful and tender infinite soul, whose writings deeply resonate with the complexities of the human condition and the relentless quest for understanding:

"I am dark, I am forest."

"I grow strong in the beauty you behold. And with the silence of stars, I enfold your cities made by time."

"Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

Novalis, who occupies a cherished place in my heart for his poetic and deeply insightful exploration of life and love.

"We are eternal because we love each other."

"I often feel, and ever more deeply I realize, that fate and character are the same conception."

"Sometimes with the most intense pain a paralysis of sensibility occurs. The soul disintegrates—hence the deadly frost—the free power of the mind—the shattering, ceaseless wit of this kind of despair. There is no inclination for anything anymore—the person is alone, like a baleful power—as he has no connection with the rest of the world he consumes himself gradually—and in accordance with his own principle he is—misanthropic and misotheos."

Egon Schiele, whose intense and raw portrayal of human emotion and beauty has deeply moved me, revealing the unfiltered essence of the human experience.

"I must see new things and investigate them. I want to taste dark water and see crackling trees and wild winds. I want to gaze with astonishment at moldy garden fences, I want to experience them all, to hear young birch plantations and trembling leaves, to see light and sun, enjoy wet, green-blue valleys in the evening, sense goldfish glinting, see white clouds building up in the sky, to speak to flowers. I want to look intently at grasses and pink people, old venerable churches, to know what little cathedrals say, to run without stopping along curving meadowy slopes across vast plains, kiss the earth and smell soft warm marshland flowers. And then I shall shape things so beautifully: fields of colour…"

Anaïs Nin, a force of nature and embodiment of feminine strength, whose deep exploration of inner life and boundless creativity has left an indelible impression on me. Her work continues to inspire and challenge me to embrace the fullness of my inner world:

"She was colour, brilliance, strangeness."

"I have the power to multiply myself. I am not one woman."

"Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous."

"I can only connect deeply, or not at all."

Carl Gustav Jung, one of the most brilliant psychiatrists, psychologists, psychotherapists, and empiricists in history. Jung's exploration of the collective unconscious and shadow self has offered me invaluable tools for self-awareness and personal development. His legacy continues to inspire and guide those seeking to understand the depths of the mind and the path to self-discovery.

"A man who has not passed through the inferno of his passions has never overcome them. As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being. Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves."

"People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."

"The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are."

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the maddening genius with profound understanding of human nature and morality:

"If you want to overcome the whole world, overcome yourself."

"People speak sometimes about the 'bestial' cruelty of man, but that is terribly unjust and offensive to beasts, no animal could ever be so cruel as a man, so artfully, so artistically cruel."

"People. People. Endless noise. And I am so tired. And I would like to sleep under trees; red ones, blue ones, swirling passionate ones."

"I exist. In thousands of agonies—I exist."

"If there is no God, everything is permitted."

Virginia Woolf, a literary giant whose deep introspection and exploration of the human condition have left an indelible mark:

"No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself."

"What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one."

"I want to raise up the magic world all around me and live strongly and quietly there."

"Reality? Reality has never been enough for me."

Mikhail Bulgakov, a masterful writer and playwright, another troubled soul who faced censorship and persecution in his lifetime, with immense talent and a deep soul, fascinated me with his imaginary worlds that blend reality with fantastical elements, feeling both familiar and boundlessly expansive:

"But would you kindly ponder this question: What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and living beings. Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light?"

"Kindness. The only possible method when dealing with a living creature. You'll get nowhere with an animal if you use terror, no matter what its level of development may be. That I have maintained, do maintain and always will maintain. People who think you can use terror are quite wrong. No, no, terror is useless, whatever its colour – white, red or even brown! Terror completely paralyses the nervous system."

"Everything passes away - suffering, pain, blood, hunger, pestilence. The sword will pass away too, but the stars will remain when the shadows of our presence and our deeds have vanished from the Earth. There is no man who does not know that. Why, then, will we not turn our eyes toward the stars? Why?"

"There are no evil people in the world, only unhappiness disguised as evil."

And then there is indispensable Franz Kafka. Although I have shifted away from his writing in recent years and no longer resonate with it as much, he was a dear friend and frequent company during my darkest, loneliest, and most challenging times. His work, full of raw honesty and insight, offered a kind of companionship that felt both intimate and enduring:

"The way he can risk everything and risks nothing, because there is nothing but truth in him already, a truth that even in the face of the contradictory impressions of the moment will justify itself as such when the crucial time arrives. The calm self-possession. The slow pace that neglects nothing. The immediate readiness, when it is needed, not sooner, for long in advance he sees everything that is coming."

"I, for the most part silent, had nothing to say; among such people the war doesn’t call forth in me the slightest opinion worth expressing."

"You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." Of course, there are many more authors who deserve to be on this list, but I chose these because they have touched my life in ways that are both unique and deeply personal. I hope that at least some of you will read to the end and find a bit of inspiration and insight in these quotes, just as they have given me. If you’ve made it this far, thank you. 🌹

[vividwritinglove]

You're always worth it - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: fem!reader x Lewis Hamilton

warnings: smut (mdi), choking

words: 1K

————————————————————————

"Really, Lewis?" You sigh to yourself after seeing the notification of a new post in your boyfriend's story. He was just working out and once again sharing his fitness with his community.

Actually, you weren't surprised. He has always been very public about himself. But not when it comes to his love life and especially his relationship with you, he seemed to protect you from the public or the press at all costs. You are so infinitely important to him.

As time goes by, it becomes harder to keep your love a secret. You rented an apartment in the same apartment complex, so that you could move in together without anyone suspecting. In the first few months, everything was so new and exciting, but now it felt like a sort of gilded cage. Your love for Lewis is so strong, but you miss all the things normal couples do: going for walks, going out to eat, shopping, traveling, or just working out together at the gym.

You would love to accompany him to his races. Just be there for him physically and not only via cell phone and in front of a TV. Lewis has been in the public eye for years and knows the downside of being famous. You're not used to it, you've never been in public life before. This is just another reason that he loves about you. This little bit of normality that you gave him as soon as he entered his 4 walls. With you he can be totally himself. No mask, completely unfiltered.

The next moment you hear the front door to Lewis' apartment open. Lewis has returned from his workout. Conveniently, the gym is located a few floors below his apartment.

"Babe, I'm back!" you hear him say and a few seconds later he enters the living room. Sweaty and grinning. That damn smile with that tooth gap. You have to grin as well and hold your smartphone out to him. On your screen the picture from his story.

"Another thirst trap, babe?"

"It's in the eye of the beholder." he still grins, pulling his tank top over his head. You immediately forget what you were going to say at the sight of his muscular and tattooed torso. God, this man just knows how to handle discussions with you. You love his tattoos. A passion you both share. How many times have you traced the dark ink on his skin with your fingers.

"I'm going to take a shower." he says casually, now stripping off his shorts as well.

You swallow hard and press your thighs together. He knows exactly what he's doing and how he could drive you crazy, "I would really enjoy your company."

You don't let him tell you twice. You get up from the sofa and walk towards him, brushing your sweat jacket off your shoulders. As you stand directly in front of him, his eyes immediately move to your lips. He loves to kiss you. Your hands travel up his abs to his pecs. You feel the slight goosebumps forming on his skin under your touch, "This is supposed to be for my eyes only..."

Greedily he presses his lips on yours. His kisses are dominant, you give yourself to him. His hands also wander along your body and linger now on your ass. The next moment he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his middle. With a lightness he carries you into the bathroom, not interrupting your hot and intimate kiss. He is everything you have ever dreamed of and more.

Only a few minutes later you are under the big rain shower. Cool water pours down on your heated and naked bodies. His every touch makes you see stars. Before him, there was no one who touched you like this. Lewis has experience, did things with you that you would never have dreamed of in your wildest dreams. Just like in this moment. His fingers are magic. You let him play you like an instrument and in return you gave him the most beautiful melodies. He adores you and especially the look on your face when you cum, "Lewis, I... I..."

"Not yet." He murmurs and your grip on his shoulders tightens. He lets go of you, turning you around and you feel his muscular body pressed to your back. He pushes you forward slightly, making you bend over a little, only to enter you right after. Gently and determinedly. Pleasurably you moan, also Lewis throat escapes a growl at the familiar feeling of being inside you. You quickly find your rhythm together. One of his hands moves up to your neck and his fingers wrap around your tender skin like a necklace. The other travels down your torso over your breasts, pressing you even tighter against him. His thrusts become more imprecise, your mutual moans increase and again that comforting warm feeling forms in your abdomen.

"Come on, baby girl. I need to hear you." Lewis murmurs lustfully in your ear, lightly squeezing your air supply. As if on his command, it overcomes you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your knot bursts. Shortly after, Lewis is ready, too. His grip on your neck loosens and quickly he kisses the slightly irritated skin of the crook of your neck. Exhausted, you nestle your face against his. A blissful smile plays around your lips.

After the shower, you two linger a bit in the bathroom. You sit down on the vanity in your bathrobe and rub your hair dry with a small towel. Lewis, with a towel hanging loose around his hips, stands in front of the mirror and puts lotion on his body.

"I want to work out with you tomorrow."

Lewis looks over from his reflection to you, a little puzzled. But then he smiles and nods, "Agreed."

The Next Day

lewishamilton and y/username

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

Menphia being wrath should go without saying, she is called the fury. She is characterized by her anger. I think she has a really strong sense of justice, and easily gets really upset over injustices to the point of anger. Causing her anger issues.

Enki is gluttony but not for food. Gluttony means the excessive and unfiltered consumption of something beyond reason. Enki is that for knowledge. He wants more and more knowledge, so he takes in more and more knowledge. Sometimes for multiple days on end without breaks. He is always "thirsty for knowledge". This thirst is never swayed and as time goes on he has less and less self-control over it.

i love reading these asks it brings me joy

[k0na-core]

Okay, I have an AU in my head rn. Its Evil Kai centric obviously but I wanted to push his elemental power to the limits since it's very obvious that his limits are way over than what we've been shown. If he defeated a whole ice dragon at his weakest, imagine what he could do at his strongest.

Maybe it'll be in the same vain as Nya merging with the sea but not really. Its more of, Kai's powers goes to the point where anything related with fire can be controlled which doesn't sound like a lot but remember, I'm saying ANYTHING. I was gonna say lava is too but that's also in Cole's reign and I'm not really sure how to flesh that out yet. Maybe something like manipulating him into joining forces out of desperation or like a self sacrifice.

I'm planning this to come after Nya's merging with the sea and a way to delve into his grief better. So here's how his arc is planning to be:

Kai always protected any of his younger siblings, Lloyd or Nya or anyone really. After he failed to protect his own sister, his own blood, he thought himself as powerless. During possession, he knew there was a way to get Lloyd back but after Nya's presumed permanent merging, he knew he couldn't do anything. He doubted himself and his capabilities. Out of this self-loathing, he started training harder either out in the open or in his own room.

Everyone was grieving obviously but failed to see Kai eye-to-eye since he just kept it to himself: not wanting the others to see his weakness out of that obsession with being stronger. He couldn't grieve properly or get help or anything like that, bottling it up inside him and with that bottling up of his emotions he started getting more and more angry. Upset at himself, upset at Nya, upset at everyone because they did nothing.

Kai took a breather and thought on how he can't do his job if he's like this. So, with a heavy heart, he left despite him being an essential part of the team. The team stayed strong, even without them and now had to put in extra effort for the empty space left behind.

In his own life, Kai kept training however. He still wanted to be strong, feeling a need for revenge. Even if he saw Kalmaar being eaten and Wojira destroyed, bringing him with her. Kai essentially disappeared, cutting ties with his friends, family and just didn't talk to anyone. When the team try and look for him, they got reports of him being sighted doing ordinary things, as if he wanted to put the Ninja life behind.

Then, one night on the day of the departed, Kai sat by the sea like usual until he heard a voice, so beautiful and majestic and felt like home. It sounded too much like Nya. He thought he'd finally lost it until the waves responded to his heart. It sounded as if the sea was speaking to him. Be one, be with me, together. And then, silence.

This took too much of a toll on him, it's as if the spirit of his sister was haunting his mind, telling him to be stronger so he could be one iwth his element. He started training more, working harder, getting stronger until one day he decided to give his powers a try one more time. He denied himself of its use, years of associating elemental powers with the loss of his sister. Her powers being the exact reason she left. What came through was huge fires of unimaginable strength, it could've easily decimated an entire acre of greenery. And he didn't even try.

That thirst for power became more sinister, he wanted more, to be more. So he set out to find a way to truly be strong again. Until, he looked up and saw the sun. This glowing ball of hot fire, metal and gas that pulls everything in space around it, being so far away yet it's smothering heat could burn ones skin. Anything that comes close is instantly incinerated, untouched. If only he was as powerful as the sun, pure unfiltered power of fire. He didn't want to be one with it, no, he wanted to get a hold of its power.

And so, the crown for the King of the Sun was placed on his head.

Now, this is just the basic premise, some of it is not completely fleshed out but I wanted to know if any of yall would actually want content of this. Kai being like a fire emperor except the staff is his own mind. He also starts a cult at one point as well as raising an army. Not sure how but there must be some sort of religion in Ninjago that worships the sun, right? His arc is all gonna be about how not everyone can be strong for everyone all the time, not only giving himself a break and understanding that rest is vital but also, an obsession with being better or stronger can push yourself away from others. I wanted to make Lloyd the one to make him accept that not only because he is closest to him, but also because he is like his other younger sibling, making him realize that he pushed away the one he was supposed to protect.

[simplyclary]

You Made My Life Immensely Better

(Edit by yours truly)

[To be completely honest and somewhat candid, this is just a product of me thinking how the heck am I gonna beat the sentiments I wrote in the Thanksgiving letter and not sound repetitive]

To my dearest TZP Squad,

Here's a letter...

As 2023 draws to a close, I find myself thinking about this rollercoaster of a journey we've shared over the few months that I've been in this beautiful fandom. To each and every one of you who has become a part of my year, I want to express my deepest gratitude.

This year, especially the last 4-5 months, has been a wild ride with ups and downs in between, and in those moments, you have given me warmth, laughter, and a profound sense of connection. From shared smiles to small but lovely interactions, you have brightened the latter part of my year with your presence.

To quote our dearest Alex Claremont-Diaz: "You have made my life immeasurably better".

My dearest TZP Squad, thank you for being the the source of my smile during both the sunny days and stormy nights. Like I said before, if Taylor is the sunshine, you guys are the solar energy. You simply further ignite the positive energy that Taylor gives and I love you all for that.

To those who let me speak my unfiltered thoughts, big or small, know that your support has warmed my heart and your short and sweet replies have made it more meaningful. I am grateful for the shared joy in our collective achievements as a fandom, and what we've achieved this year (a.k.a Taylor seeing the birthday project) is only just the beginning of a beautiful fandom journey.

For the moments of solace and comfort and the unspoken reassurances, thank you. Your empathy and virtual love always melts my heart, and I'll always cherish the sanctuary of this little positive corner on the messy world of the internet.

To the people that I've been interacting with recently and since I joined this lovely fandom family (Josie, Nae, Kay, Lee, Bia, Kate, the admins behind my dearest @/InfoTZP and @/tzpsquads Mari and May), thank you for the meaningful insights, the unexpected laughter, and the undying support and love. You've added yourselves to the fandom chapters of my life story and I am forever thankful for each of you. I may not see your faces, but know that I see you and I appreciate you and everything that you do for the fandom, whether that is organizing projects or providing updates. It's the little things and gestures that matter the most.

Special mentions to @/InfoTZP and @/tzpsquads for sending me DMs after I sent out that Thanksgiving letter last month. Those DMs will forever hold a special place in my heart.

As a new year approaches, I'll carry forward the memories that I've created with you. May we continue to laugh and smile despite the troubles that came our way and will probably continue to come our way.

In a world that can feel chaotic and uncertain, your presence has been and will continue to be a constant source of light and love. December has been a mix of the light and the dark, but I'm glad that we stuck together and united against the dark forces. To quote one of my favorite literary characters (who shares the same name as me), Clary Fairchild: Alone, we're strong. Together, we're unstoppable.

Here's to the moments we've shared, the memories we've created, and the bonds that have made the latter part of this year truly unforgettable.

My dears, all I can really say is thank you! In the many years that I have been in multiple fandoms, I have never been in such a beautiful fandom like this. This is probably the one fandom that I'll forever treasure until time ends. I am lucky to have you (as virtual friends) and for sure, Taylor is lucky to have you who is always there to love, support, cherish and defend him.

Let's continue to share and express the mutual love we have for TZP, whether that be by simply appreciating how good he looks or thirsting over him on a feral level (oh yeah, I see TZP thirst posts daily), let's just continue to do it because it's one of my most favorite things about this little fandom family of ours.

The fandom is just as special as Taylor and I’m excited to spend the future loving and supporting him with you guys. The TZP squad is one of the best fandoms with the sweetest people and I’m just having a pleasant ride with you. I’m here for the long run and I promise to stand by Taylor and you guys until time tells me that it is already time to stop.

Wishing you all a new year filled with love, laughter, and the continued warmth of cherished connections.

I'll (virtually) see you at the fashion weeks, movie premieres and magazine photoshoots in 2024 ;)

All my love,

Clarissa

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Hi, it's Moonlord, and can it be more than one request? For the trick-or-treating? For example, Finrod became a werewolf, in a Finrod/Celegorm (with or without Curufin) or Finrod/Turgon

Hello dearest!

You didn't say whether you wanted a trick or a treat, so I stayed with the vibe of the previous story!

🎃Trick🎃

Have another ficlet about Finrod, Curufin, Celegorm, AND Turgon.

This is Part II of this idea. (Part I)

Have 600 words of Wolfinrod.

Celegorm frowned as he entered the clearing—as an accomplished hunter, he relied on his instincts unhesitatingly, and the musky scent making his nostrils flare now set his teeth on edge.

Something was here, and it was hungry.

Pushing his younger brother—Curufin, for all the things he might have been to him throughout the ages, would never not be a youngling in need of protection—behind his broad, muscular back, he squared his shoulders and advanced cautiously.

“Cousin,” Turgon looked up sharply, his full, sensual lips contorted into a mocking sneer. “I did not expect thee to come.”

The derision dripping like blood from those white teeth was so maddening that Celegorm almost failed to notice the bright golden eyes—tinged with ocean green and sky blue—that settled on his approaching form voraciously.

“What—” he cried out in alarm as sleek limbs untangled and silver fur rustled in the eerie quietude of the remote meadow—even blinking rapidly did nothing to dispel the nightmare he seemed to have fallen into unwittingly.

In Turgon’s lap lay a wolf. Nay, Celegorm knew dogs and wolves well enough to know that there was nothing natural or legitimate about that overgrown, sharp-fanged monstrosity now rolling to its massive paws and stalking towards them leisurely.

“Don’t toy with them,” Turgon warned softly, but there was no real reprimand in that exhortation.

“What sorcery is this?” Celegorm groaned. His body melted into a defensive stance as he heard Curufin gasp breathlessly behind him, and he patted his hip in search of the purely decorative knife he wore on his belt.

“It is he, this is our cousin Finrod,” Curufin hissed. “The Valar have returned him to us…changed.”

The canine creature, intelligent eyes flickering with something akin to dark humour, paused and settled on his strong haunches as if waiting for the appropriate reaction.

“It cannot be,” Celegorm panted, but his hand extended against his will to touch the soft fur of the mysterious he-wolf.

Yes, Celegorm trusted his instincts, and he had never crossed an animal he had not been able to connect with.

Freed of the necessity of polite words and proper turns of phrase, he could let his raw thoughts and unfiltered emotions flow through the unique, inexplicable bond that could only ever be established between unguarded, feral souls.

On that primal level of hunger and survival, he finally managed to convey his shame and debilitating regret. They were pack animals and letting one of their own face danger and death on his own meant unbearable infamy for those who had stayed behind to usurp a position they had not deserved.

Finally, the creature that was Finrod and yet resembled their ridiculously cheerful, strongminded cousin only vaguely inclined its heavy, lethal head in mute acceptance of their contrition.

Then its ears perked up and it gave a short, commanding yap that brought Turgon to his feet and made Celegorm’s skin tingle with the old-familiar thrill of the hunt.

“Stay here,” the silver-haired savage hissed at his forge-bound brother as the scent of a disoriented deer that had been separated from its herd flooded his awareness. “There will be blood.”

“I am no longer afraid of blood,” Curufin laughed, fey and ferocious, and pulled a thin, deadly blade from the sleeve of his formal tunic. “Let’s go!”

As one, the fallen descendants of righteous Finwë fell into a run, their steps all but inaudible, in pursuit of yet another innocent, clueless victim to satiate their thirst for slaughter that even the grace of the Valar had not erased from their guilty souls.

Ah, this was fun! Thank you so much for your amazing prompts!

-> Masterlist October

[thecruie]

Wheat Beer: What To Know

Wheat beer is a type of beer that originated in Bavaria, Germany. It is typically a top-fermented ale that contains at least 30% wheat in the brewing process and is available in a variety of styles. Wheat beers are typically light in colour, have a low to medium alcohol content, and can appear cloudy or clear. They can be brewed with or without hops, depending on the variety, and lack bitterness, making them more approachable to those who are intimidated by hops.

The terminology within Wheat Beer can be puzzling; here’s an explanation of the terms you’re likely to encounter.

Wit means “white” in Dutch/Flemish, and it refers to Belgian-style wheat ale or witbier, also known as bière blanche in French.

Weisse is the German word for “white,” and it often refers to the sour Berliner type of beer, but it can also refer to the Bavarian type, as in weissbier. It is often used interchangeably with Weizen.

Weizen is the German word for “wheat,” and it is most commonly associated with the Bavarian wheat beer style.

Hefe simply means “yeast,” referring to an unfiltered beer served with its yeast, which is the most popular type of Bavarian beer.

Dunkel (“dark”), steinfarbenes (“amber”), bock and doppelbock (“strong” and “double strong”), and kristal (“filtered”) are some other terms that you can come across.

AMERICAN-STYLE WHEAT ALES

American-style wheat ales are golden-coloured beers that are clear or hazy, clean and crisp and fermented with a non-European yeast strain. Although they resemble German weizens in appearance, they do not taste the same. phenolic and estery Aromas and flavours of German weizen yeast are not typically found in these beers. Beers in this category use American hop varieties with varying levels of bitterness; they are typically available only during the summer months, but some are available all year.

BERLINER WEISSE

A Berliner weisse is technically any wheat beer brewed in Berlin. However, the name has become more associated with a more lactic profile than that found in southern Germany. This tart, thirst-quenching ale, dubbed “the Champagne of the north” by Napoleon’s soldiers, gets its sharp flavours from lactic fermentation. True Berliners will cut the sharp acidity of Berliner weisse with raspberry syrup, woodruff essence, or caraway schnapps.

DUNKELWEIZEN

These dark wheat beers get their character from the use of darker malts in the non-wheat ingredients, which results in a richer, darker-coloured beer with fuller malt flavours. Dunkel weizens retain the floral, estery characteristics of pale weizens. Dark weizens can be made with or without a secondary fermentation in the bottle, and they can be yeast sedimented or unsedimented, depending on the brewer’s preference.

HEFEWEIZEN

Weizen bier is a top-fermenting beer style from southern Germany, specifically Bavaria, that is brewed with at least 50% wheat in the mash. Hefeweizens are light, carbonated beers that are ideal for quenching summer thirst. Secondary fermentation occurs, frequently in the bottle. Traditional hefeweizen yeast strains can impart spicy, clove, banana, or bubblegum flavours. The word “Hefe” (German for yeast) on the label indicates that the bottle contains yeast sediment. The average alcohol content is 5-5.5%. The body of these beers ranges from medium to medium-full. Hop flavours have a negligible impact on the flavour profile.

HOPFENWEISSE

A more hop-forward version of a Hefeweizen. Not a combination of styles like a White IPA, but a Hefeweizen with the bitterness and aromas hops can add to beer.

KRISTALLWEIZEN

A kristall weizen is a weizen ale that is not hazy. A weizen labelled “Kristall” indicates that it has been filtered prior to bottling to remove the protein haze and yeast commonly found in such beers. Kristallweizens lack the yeasty and spicy complexity that hefeweizen beers are known for, and have a cleaner, more delicate flavour. Floral and fruity aromas are frequently noted in classic examples of this style, which has a healthy alcohol content of 5-5.5% and a medium to medium-full body.

WEIZENBOCK

Weizenbocks are winter wheat beers that originated in Bavaria. The colour can range from pale gold to brown. They have a higher alcoholic strength, up to 7% ABV, and a warming personality, though they should still have a noticeable rocky head when poured. These beers combine the characteristics of hefeweizens and dopplebocks, and as a result, they are rich and malty, with estery, yeasty qualities, and a note of wheaty crispness through the finish.

WIT/WHITE BEER

Wit beer is a flavoured wheat beer. It has a distinct Belgian origin and is still strongly associated with the country’s lowlands. Wits use unmalted wheat in the mash, but flavour is added in the form of Curaçao orange peel and coriander, among other things. A hazy white precipitate marks their appearance, and these beers typically have some sedimentation. These are typically very refreshing summer thirst quenchers.

WHEAT WINE

Wheat wine is a strong ale that contains wheat in its grain bill. Wheat wine, like barleywine, is sweet, malty, and high in alcohol (between 8% and 12% ABV). Wheat accounts for roughly half of the grain bill, or roughly 40% to 60%. The remainder is barley malt. Wheat wines are lighter in colour and body than barleywines, less aggressively hopped, and thus less bitter. Brewers use lighter malts in wheat wines than in barleywines, so wheat wines are softer and fruitier.

WHITE IPA

This style is more of a mash (pun intended) up of styles rather than a formal style. White IPAs are golden-colored beers that are clear or hazy, and are a cross between the hop-forward American India pale ale style and the traditional Belgian wit style. These beers have the yeasty spice profile of Belgian wits as well as the citrusy and/or resinous aromatic hop profile of American IPAs, with medium-to-high hop bitterness. They are typically only available during the summer, but as this style grows in popularity, many more are becoming year-round brews.

OTHER WHEAT BEER STYLES:

Gueuze, Lambic, & Fruit Lambics

Spontaneously fermented wild ales from the area in and around Brussels (the Senne Valley) stem from a farmhouse brewing tradition several centuries old.

It is a wheat beer, but lives within European Sour Ales beer guidelines.

Gose

Gose beer (pronounced “goes-uh”) is a pale, top-fermenting wheat beer flavoured with coriander and salt.

It is a wheat beer, but lives within European Sour Ales beer guidelines.

Gose has a low hop bitterness and a dryness and spice from the use of ground coriander seeds, as well as a sharpness from the addition of salt.

Lichtenhainer

Originating in Lichtenhain, in Thüringen (central Germany). Height of popularity was towards the end of the 1800s, and was widely available throughout Thüringen. Like a pre-1840 Berliner Weisse.

A smoked, sour lowe ABV German Wheat Beer.

Not as acidic as Berliner weisse, probably more like a smoked Gose without coriander and salt, or a Grodziskie with Gose-like acidity.

Piwo Grodziskie

Pronounced in English as “pivo grow-JEES-kee-uh” (meaning: Grodzisk beer). Known as Grätzer (pronounced “GRATE-sir”) in German-speaking countries, and in some beer literature.

A Polish low ABV beer. Lightly smoked oak aroma and flavour, with a moderate bitter finish.

Regular commercial production declined after WWII and ceased altogether in the early-mid 1990s.

Roggenbier

A Dunkelweizen made with rye rather than wheat, but with greater body and light finishing hops.

A specialty German rye beer originally brewed in Regensburg, Bavaria. Never a widely popular style, it has all but disappeared in modern times.

[sohin-ace]

Dio - Stolen Dance

For immersion, listen to the Dark Waltz Music - Vampire masquerade collection on youtube. Oh boy

Especially 'Tonight Ve' Dance' that shit hits the spot for this fanfic. Trust me.

"Would you honor me with a dance, Y/N?"

'Hell no', was what you craved to answer to this charming yet cruel man. Dancing with him meant selling your very soul. You were about to dance with the Devil.

But you had no choice.

You tried to run away from him, from his toxicity, from his poison, but he always managed to get you back and trap you in his web. And now he offered his warm, destructive hand for a dance, just a single dance with him.

And you had no choice.

You could not refuse. You had no right to. It was oh-so reluctantly that you had put your trembling, cold hand over his possessive one. He pulled you towards him as the music played in the luxurious ballroom.

He laid his large hand around your corseted waist, pulling you to him and bringing your bodies a little too close for your own comfort. Way too close for a gentleman to conventionally be from a lady.

But he didn't seem to care one bit as your heart pounded heavily in your chest. He could probably feel it from this proximity. And he most definitely drowned himself in it.

You hesitantly, and regrettably put one hand over his broad shoulder in what you could only call a ghostly touch. You barely wanted to touch him and potentially show him a form of validation from his wrongdoings.

He engulfed your other hand in his own, relishing in the adorable yet terrifying size difference. If he wanted, he could just close his entire hand on yours and claim it as his. Just how he could easily close the distance between you and claim you just the same.

People were around. The ladies and gentlemen of the World. High class society, partying mondanely through the night. Couples dancing, businessmen meeting, Madames chatting.

Oh but in these decorated mansions, the families yearned to see newfound lovers, for what a sight it was.

Some were watching you in earnest and maybe even admiration, glad to see how the charming, handsome Dio Brando of the Joestar Estate was gracefully swaying in rhythm with the gentle, beautiful Y/N L/N, daughter of the Lord L/N.

Your face felt warm, burning almost and it was not a comfortable feeling. Maybe it was the close proximity between him and you, maybe it was all the unnecessary attention you were receiving, putting pressure and forcing shyness upon you.

Maybe it was the rising anxiety that built viciously within you and made yout heart pump violently in your chest, or maybe it was the pure hatred you felt towards the blonde man holding you captive within this very dance.

It didn't matter what it was, it felt horrible, suffocating. You could barely breathe, the room was spinning.

You were always taught to look at your partner in the eyes when dancing, but now your partner wasn't just anyone. It was Dio Brando. There was no way you could look up at his soul-piercing amber, no, crimson red eyes. Like gems of blood.

If you looked at them, if you even glanced at them...

"You are quite tense, dear." He released your hand briefly to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, letting cool air hitting your now more exposed cheek and temple. "Relax and follow my lead."

You wanted to scoff at his words. How could you relax when your only wish at the moment was to run away from him? Your family was nowhere to be seen, Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. No one was there and no one would help you.

"You stole this dance, Dio," You growled quietly, not wanting to gather even more attention to yourself. "But it will be the last thing that you'll steal from me. Heed my words."

You finally met his eyes to grace him with a glare and he only looked down on you with mockery and a hint of fondness. As if your anger was endearing to him. He hummed in amusement.

"Hmmm...? Do I take it that everything else will be graciously given to me...?"

Before you could even gasp at his scandalous assumptions, you missed a step and fell forward, right against his solid chest. He of course didn't waste a second in wrapping his strong arms around your small form.

You could hear the other guests whispering and chuckling, probably drinking in the sight and preaching how cute you both were. The beautiful Y/N L/N clumsily falling into the arms of the very handsome Dio Brando.

Like a princess and her prince, right from a romance story. It was really fresh to witness and people just couldn't wait to see you both engaged, you looked so perfect together. After all, in this mondane society, it was all about looks.

If only they knew the truth.

You tried to push yourself off of him as you laid your palms flat on his chest, but he held you there firmly. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and the blonde leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"Let us go somewhere more private darling. I am tired of those curious eyes."

You felt like you were about to faint and really wanted to get out of that busy room, but surely not with Dio. As you didn't have much of a say in this, you let him guide you away, to one of the many chambers in the mansion.

He opened the door wide for you and you entered the empty, cold room bathing in darkness, not sparing him a single glance and went straight ahead to the large windows that lead to a beautifully decorated balcony.

You stayed inside though, as Dio closed the door behind him and went on his way to light a gas lamp that was laid on a night stand.

You gently pushed the silky curtains aside to glance at the moon outside. You stared at her magnificent silver light, completely forgetting where you were and that Dio was still in this very room.

You sighed, comforted by the moonlight. The moon was full on this cold night, it was the end of the year and it felt like the nocturnal satellite decided to show off all of her magic tonight.

Sometimes, you envied those legendary creatures who lived solely by the moonlight. Fantastical beings who could see the moon through all her phases and for as long as they lived. Werewolves, Vampires...

"...Beautiful, isn't it?"

You gasped, startled by his sudden deep voice so close to your ear. You swiftly turned around and glared at him, offended that his appearance tore you off your pleasant rêverie.

"Oh, please do continue. The moon reflects so deliciously on your skin, it is beyond mezmerizing."

"Yo-... you're losing yourself again, Dio!" You tried to sound strong and composed, but you couldn't help the slight whimper from escaping your throat.

"Maybe..." He lifted his large arm next to your head to fully open the curtain behind you, the sudden position flustering you as you felt trapped yet again.

You looked down as you contemplated fleeing. How many attempts was it now? You stopped counting after the 20th, but you wanted to flee again.

Not bearing the sight of his broad chest in front of you, you turned slightly back to the window and side-glanced at the beautiful garden.

There was a large maze in there. The thought of maybe trying to lose Dio there was very appealing. It turned your once melancholic and lonely expression into a softer, more relaxed one.

The moonlit maze alone filling your heart with an ounce of hope, the ghost of a smile reached your lips and eyes.

"What a sweet expression you are sporting, my love." The blond devil put his large hand on your cheek and turned your head to face him as he purred. "Although I delect myself more from your despaired expression."

Disgusting. This man was disgusting. You put a hand over his large wrist as a sign to tell him to let go of you, which he patently ignored.

He leaned forward, hovering dangerously over your face as he lifted your chin up, a soft smirk stretching his lips.

"Now tell me... what could my dove possibly be thinking about to make her look so beautifully blithe?"

You looked downwards to the red brooch on his tie, the ornament suddenly more distracting than his dominating burning gaze on you.

"I was thinking of getting away from you. It gets me going." You spoke the unfiltered truth with bitter sugar dripping from your voice.

The man before you froze upon hearing those words. Were you challenging him? Him?! The Dio Brando?

You drove him so crazy. Oh you drove him to such unfathomable frustration. His blood was boiling and pumping ferociously in his veins.

His entire body cringed, his fists balling tightly. He ground his teeth as his eyes widened in pure rage. Or was it rage? No it was deeper, more twisted than that.

It was lust.

He needed to gather all his self-control to prevent himself from breaking something or rather someone right this instant.

Yes... He could break you. Oh and it would be so easy and so satisfying, too. Nothing could quench his thirst more than destroying every inch of you at that moment.

You were such a nasty pest, you were so terribly problematic, no wonder he was so infatuated with you. So obssessed with you.

You were bad, maybe as bad as him. You pushed on all his buttons like no one ever did and yet, you played the cute little perfect girl in front of everyone else.

You made him so insane, so mad. He wanted you all to himself. He yearned for you to get your revenge on him, to be infuriated with him. He craved you right here, right now. He loved that you hated him.

Swiftly, he pressed his weight against you and pushed your body flush against the window as you gasped in surprise, barely able to even react at the forceful contact.

He was quick to catch your wrist and pin it next to your head as you tried desperately to push him away, your other hand uselessly resting on his much stronger arm.

You tried to squirm away, but his body meddled with yours in an emprisonning cage. You couldn't hide your panicked pants anymore.

"You damn woman..." He breathed in a shaky hiss right next to your heating ear, his tone way darker now and his eyes half-lidded. "Do you even realize what you are doing to me?" He spat with venom but also with dripping excitement. "You are in deep trouble, darling."

He nuzzled his face in your exposed neck, drenching himself in your sweet scent and you shuddered, his hot breath on your skin making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

Your heart hammered alarmingly inside your chest as his malicious hold triggered your Fight or Flight response. This was bad. Real bad. You struggled against his grip, writhing and pushing him.

But struggling against him was futile, useless. So useless, useless, useless...

"I hate you, Dio Brando. There's not a single piece of you that is remotely redeemable!" You growled in his ears through exhausted pants. "Hear me when I say this, I despise every inch of your disgraceful being, Dio-ugh...! I hate you with all my might...!!"

"Yes!" He grunted hungrily as he put his free hand around your hips, leaving no space between your body and his, feeling all of yourself against him. "That's it, that's what I want to hear! One more time... Scream it."

"You disgusting bastard... You have no shame..." You squeezed your eyes shut, you refused to cry. Never for him. He didn't deserve it.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... Please." He was crazed, Dio lost himself, yet again. "Sweet Y/N, let me make you mine... Be mine... I know you want this..."

Just like that, the man above you craddled your body like his most prized possession, teasing the pulsing point of your neck with his lips, tongue and teeth. He clutched your hips and wrist in a bruising grip and you knew there was nothing you could do.

"I'm going to ravish you, destroy you..."

And so he did.

[nomtterwhere]

come back to me || marco peña x reader

a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!

request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”

summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...

word count: 4.4k

marco valentin peña.

newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.

it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.

but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.

he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.

you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.

“um, hi.” you say.

he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”

oh god, his voice.

you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”

he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.

your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”

marco nods.

grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”

he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”

“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”

grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.

marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”

you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”

marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”

“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.

marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.

“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”

you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.

marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.

marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”

you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”

the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.

you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.

“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.

you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”

you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.

so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:

“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”

you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.

“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.

“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.

“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.

the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.

you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.

“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.

“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.

you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.

never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.

“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”

you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.

“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.

you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.

and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?

eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.

“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.

“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.

“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.

marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”

you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”

grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.

“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.

“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.

“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.

“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.

“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”

you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...

“you what?”

marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.

the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.

“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.

apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.

you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.

he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”

you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.

“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”

you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.

“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.

you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”

he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.

“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.

“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.

you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.

“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.

“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.

marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:

“and shoot.”

you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.

marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.

“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”

you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.

when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.

and you were right.

ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.

and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.

“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.

“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”

“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.

“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”

“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”

he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”

your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”

you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”

you leave the classroom without another look at marco.

and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?

to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.

and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.

“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.

you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.

you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.

so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.

you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.

“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.

“what was that about?” jen asks me.

“i’m not sure...” you say, looking after her retreating figure.

but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.

you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.

“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.

you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.

“hey.”

he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”

“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.

marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.

“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”

he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.

and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”

“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”

you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”

“so?” he looked hopeful.

you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”

he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.

over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.

due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.

he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.

“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.

“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.

“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”

“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.

“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”

you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”

marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”

now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”

“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”

“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.

he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”

you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.

“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.

“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.

you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.

“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”

you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.

“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.

“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.

“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.

but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.

you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.

“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.

“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”

a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

[dirtycccat]

things that remind you of them w the demon bros+ (un)dateables

highkey tw for some unhealthy behaviors and uhhhhh maybe sensitive stuff idk just keep that in mind

lucifer

an impromptu orchestra concert in an abandoned church. a forgotten off key piano found at the back of an antique shop. tradition worth more than luxury. 

the crackling of fire. glittering glasses of wine. changing a vinyl with naked hands, brushing the dust off its hard body. a cold hand touching  the back of your neck in passing. whispered words of affection in the ear of your sleeping beloved.

running on air. falling with your lungs full of fire. trying to rebel against fate, against the inevitable moment the ground will break your bones for trying to cheat the laws of nature and its gods.

the heavy weight of perfection bending you backwards. counting down the moments until it will finally break you. measuring your worth in work, in being good at, in being useful, in being needed.

sticking up with family, with rules, with loyalty despite your own desires. acting like you’re the first but always putting yourself second. 

being afraid to dare to be selfish and to love. being scared of your own devouring passions. waiting for your beloved to take the first step and running the whole way to finally meet them.

mammon

the fluttering of wings in the silence of a white september afternoon. a sea of crows watching your every move from atop a nearby building. finding a black feather on the ground and keeping it in your pocket for good luck.

the friction between leather seats and leather jackets. heavy cologne mixed with the scent of sweat and leather. the purr of a motor. finding a half empty pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your old jacket.

winning second place so many times you’ve given up on first. still dreaming of clawing your way onto the top of the podium sometimes. 

the heavy burden of capitalism of having your worth monetized. having to constantly show the word you’re worth something. selling your soul for value. 

wanting everything you could never have before. overspending, oversharing, overwhelming. being too much but also never enough. 

finally being someone’s number one. strong arms holding you while you cry. a reassuring presence, a constant in your life 

leviathan

imposter syndrome. feeling like you’ll never fit in, like you’ll never be good enough.

replacing real life with dreams. looking at life from the outside. living inside your head.

playing games until 3 am on a school/work night. letting your passions consume you. still feeling guilty of not doing anything measured in money or public approval. calling all your hobbies guilty pleasures because you still care about what others think despite appearances.

finding comfort in the solace of the ocean. sitting at the bottom of the pool holding in your breath and your tears. crying in the shower. letting the water wash you clean and reborn. 

letting someone in. being accepted for what you are and the little you can offer. vast depths hidden by shallow waters.

satan

rage. pure unfiltered rage. the desire to stand up to authority figures.  clenched fists, heavy calming breaths, tightly closed eyes. tears of anger, of not being right, of never being good enough or smart enough.

subtle jabs. heavy sarcasm. veiled ironies. cruel eyes and bloody smiles.

putting your nose in a cat’s fur and smelling home. holding a small being full of love and feeling fulfilled. finally feeling like you want to protect and not just destroy.

having to put a book down after reading a certain line that perfectly described that unknown feeling you’ve had all your life. rereading the same line again and again and feeling the knot in your heart and stomach loosening. knowledge as power turned into knowledge as a way of truly becoming yourself turned into a shelter of understanding guarding you from the anger.

swearing in other languages under your breath. reciting poetry aloud by candlelight while drunk on wine and desire. heavy whispers full of hot meanings in the ear of your lover during dinner in languages spoken only by you two.

finally getting the happy ending you’ve always read about. finding your anchor. being a better you for your beloved. improving and helping each other with their shortcomings. balancing each other.

asmodeus

perfectly done make up that had you wake up 2 hours earlier than the others. using concealer to hide a pimple or any imperfection. pants too tight to walk in. the sound of heels in an empty hallway. 

caressing your desire while taking a hot bath. focusing on carnal needs, on your senses, on what you feel, on the present. drunk kisses. flirting with strangers at moonlit bars. red lipstick stains on blushing necks.  

drinking a glass too many despite the warning in your head. drinking to forget yourself. drinking to escape your fears, your inhibitions, your shortcomings. drinking to become the perfect you the others always expect to see you as. but also drinking to be selfish and feel good for yourself and yourself only.

the sad knowledge you’ll never be the best ever again. being compared to others and ending up comparing yourself to them. knowing your worst enemy is yourself, but trying to hide that fact with mean jokes and confident airs. feeling afraid of being known, but even more afraid of having no one knowing the real you.

beauty at a price. happiness sold for beauty. cruel beauty that devours its worshippers. 

the reassuring hands of a stranger holding your hair as you let it all out, the alcohol and the guilt. crying with your head on the cool toilet porcelain after you came home from a party that you thought would help you escape. 

help and love coming from where you least expect it. noticing the little things. noticing the person behind the character.

beelzebub 

an unknown hunger gnawing at your insides. trying to fill the empty inside but always choosing the wrong meal.

feeling satisfied after a good meal on a good day, feeling bursting on a bad one. devouring until you can’t. still feeling empty, still needing to fill yourself up but knowing it is useless.

feeling breathless and weightless after a run. being high on adrenaline and feeling like you can do anything. the smell of a sweaty used gym and leather boxing gloves. 

falling in love so slow and easy it feels like a meeting in the middle of an already drawn path.  

belphegor

living just to pass the time. living for others. living but forgetting how to live. being told to do better, to be better, to just get up and do something.

sleeping in. falling asleep at 6 am after a night of insomnia. hearing the world wake outside when inside you’re just going to bed.

strong emotions with no release. feeling full without escape.  dark humor. saying too much, revealing too much, being to much so you hide.

getting away with shit because you’re the smallest and feeling no guilt. 

the feel of fresh bedsheets. being covered in a blanket just right. feeling warm and protected in the comfort of your room.

love that comes like a question and an answer. love that feels heavy despite it’s light.

diavolo

a commanding tone bringing silence to a room. respect earned justifying the respect you were born with.

luck of birth. being born with a silver spoon. being sheltered, being always different, being untouched by the world outside and its people. 

being born with a burden. accepting your prescribed fate. believing in legends and asking yourself if you’re the hero or the villain of your own story. realizing that life is more complicated than fairytales.

abandoned castles. ivy walls and moss floor. a lit figure at the window of an empty mansion. the creaking of old staircases at night when you’re home alone. feeling like you’re from another time.

a strong hand squeezing your thigh under the table. the reassuring warmth of your lover’s presence in a time of need. being loved and not just desired. finally being touched where it matters.

barbatos

unwavering loyalty. living to serve. giving up on your individuality.

a shadow following you at night while you walk back home. sharp eyes locked onto yours from across the room. 

passive aggressiveness. hiding behind a smile. an impenetrable facade of public politeness.

the ennui of knowing too much, of living the same day, of being hungry  for a breakthrough. knowledge as a burden but also as a gift.

knowing everything about others but no one knowing anything about you. making small thoughtful gestures that remind others of your deep knowledge of their habits and wants.

finally being noticed and seen for yourself alone. getting the surprise you were craving. being taken care of.

simeon

living different lifetimes through your writing and through books.

the smile of a pretty stranger in the train that will forever visit your dreams.

a handwritten message in cursive on the fridge. a hastily written poem on the back of a receipt.

being the outsider. the watcher. being the director of the play of your life and not the actor.

tea that s just hot enough to warm your insides. falling asleep on an armchair with a book in your hand. sunkissed skin. the softness of summer. the fluttering of invisible wings.

ageless wisdom.

rewriting a cursed tale of history. going against tradition. trying to carve your happy ending. succeeding.

solomon

knowledge coming at the price of youth and life.

a thirst to know. devouring books. staying up until 5 am reading. eyes burning dry. feeling like you’re still not doing enough. head full of little nothings. feeling like you will never know anything however much you try read or learn.

notes in the margins of a book you took from the public library. wondering who is the person behind the words. fleeting attachments to the wrong people for the wrong reasons.

being the outcast. the kid at the back of your class reading a russian novel in the original language underneath the table during math class.

a house in the middle of the woods with smoke coming from its chimney. rituals in the dark. wet moss on your soles, the moon lighting up your eyes. the silence of night on a full moon. 

whispering prayers and praises to the earth under your breath as you go. feeling drunk on fire. noticing the magic around you. kissing the earth. finally grasping the knowledge you sold your soul for. asking yourself if it was really worth it and having no answer.

love as an adventure. finally feeling and not thinking. giving up on reason and embracing your heart’s guidance.

[thisisapaige]

The Ride or the Guy?

(For Suptober20. Day 10 Prompt: Sweet Rides. Word Count: 1896)

Language warning. This is pure, unfiltered Cas thirst (mine or Dean’s? I’ll let you decide). I wrote it to amuse one individual (known as thisisapaige) but y’all are free to read it here or on this convenient Ao3 link!

It all began with a haunted car dealership.

Yeah. That one was weird, even by Winchester standards. The ghost turned out to be a car mechanic who was crushed to death under a malfunctioning lift. The poor guy ended up becoming the ghost of OSHA compliance. Which was great, up until he started killing people for forgetting to wear gloves and shit.

Anyway, after the “thanks” (or, more accurately, the “please leave because you broke all my windows and scratched up the show cars”) from the extremely grateful owner, Cas wandered from the group. When Dean realized Cas hadn’t followed him and Sam back to Baby, Dean searched for the wayward angel.

Among the unsold and forgotten used cars, Cas found a motorcycle. It was dusty, old, and barely street-legal but Cas looked at it like it was the shiniest, loudest, and greatest hot rod on the market.  

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said as he approached, “we should head out before that guy calls the cops on us.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Cas patted the motorcycle’s seat, sending clouds of dust flying into the air, before he followed Dean back to Baby.

At the time, Dean didn’t think much of it at all. Cas was a weird, dorky little guy, after all.

⁂

The next part was one hundred percent Sam’s fault.

Sam introduced Cas to Craigslist.

“See?” Sam pointed out the search bar on the laptop. “Type in what you want here and you should get some results. Sometimes, it’s even what you want.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas said.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any more questions.”

Cas nodded as Sam left the room, his serious face shining in the light of the laptop. He tapped at the keyboard (pecked, actually, the dude could not type) his eyes flitting back and forth as he read the page.

Sitting across from Cas at the library table, Dean looked up from his phone and asked, “Why do you wanna look up stuff on Craigslist?”

Cas shrugged. “Curiosity.”

Dean accepted the answer. Cas always had a thing about studying humanity.

⁂

Then the packages started showing up.

Big box stores. Small box stores. Local places. Places from overseas. Store brands Dean had never seen in all his life. One time, Sam drove Cas miles to pick up something  (for some reason, neither Sam nor Cas would tell Dean what) from an old lady in the middle of nowhere.

A few days after that last trip, Dean figured out what Cas was buying.

Unfortunately, he was drinking coffee at the time.

Early one morning, Dean stumbled into the bunker’s kitchen, both sleepy and caffeine-deprived, hoping like Hell Sam had already made coffee (he did!), with his eyes still half-shut. He poured that sweet, sweet, wake up juice into a mug, leaned against the kitchen counter, and took that glorious, tongue burning first sip.

That was when Cas walked in.

And he was naked!

Okay, no, he wasn’t naked but he wasn’t wearing a trench coat which was pretty much the same thing. In fact, he wasn’t wearing his usual outfit at all. Gone was the ill-fitting suit, the sensible shoes, and the slicked back dad hair.

Oh, no. Cas wasn’t little. Not at all.

Cas wore jeans, slim cut well-fitting jeans, that showed off his powerful, muscled thighs. Fuzzy, warm, green and blue striped socks covered his feet (okay, at least he was still a dorky guy). He wore a t-shirt (his arms were bare! bare and so strong) in a shade of blue that complemented his eyes. His hair was tousled (was that product?), much in the style of when Dean first met him, and his cheeks were dusted in the perfect amount of stubble.

Oh, no. Cas was hot.

Dean wanted to shout, “Dude, put your clothes back on!” but he had a mouth full of coffee. Instead, when he tried to speak, the coffee spilled out of his mouth and dribbled down to the floor. Most of it ended up in his slippers.

Oh, no. That was hot.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said.

Cas walked past Dean and to the coffee pot, filling his a mug for himself. He didn’t really need the coffee (though that didn’t stop him from stealing the last bit and taking great amusement at Dean’s distress) but he said he developed a taste for it and enjoyed partaking in a morning routine. Cas’s words.

Cas settled into his favoured seat at the table, politely ignoring the long, drawn out “guh?” sound coming from Dean. Hopefully, Cas would attribute Dean’s inability to articulate the word “good” on the lack of caffeine.

“Morning,” Dean managed, deciding to forgo saying the “good” part. Words were hard.

Cas smiled at Dean (dammit, those itty bitty smiles were so cute) and not fair. No, not fair at all.

Dean needed to sit down. Dean needed to sit down before something else came up.

Fuck, Dean. Cas was just wearing clothes. Nice, good clothes, that showed off his–

Okay.

Cas sipped his coffee, eyes sparkling as he watched Dean struggle to carry his coffee to the table and sit without spilling another drop. Dean really hoped that wasn’t a knowing smile on Cas’s (damn nice) face.

Dean knew there was a God. He also knew that God fucking sucked. But, still: Lord, please have mercy on him.

⁂

Dean might have lost his mind.

Cas in biker boots. Cas in leather jackets. Cas in soft long-sleeved henleys. Cas in well-cut tailored suits. Cas in a short black trench coat that showed off his ass.

Yeah. Dean was looking at Cas’s ass. Sue him. It was hiding from Dean for so long. If Dean had only known about it all those years before. It was glorious. Every time Dean looked, it felt a lot like staring into the sun but it was so worth it.

The only things missing from Cas’s new wardrobe were a doctor’s coat and cowboy boots.

No, Dean. Bad, Dean. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

Oh, no. He was thinking about it.

Dean wondered if he still had Cas’s cowboy hat somewhere.

Sam cleared his throat, so loud that the other patrons in the diner shot dirty looks at the brother’s booth. Dean glanced up from his bacon omelette (extra bacon with a side of bacon, of course) and judged, from the look on Sam’s face, that Dean had been ignoring him for a while now.

“What?” Dean asked.

Sam probably wouldn’t be so bitchy if he’d ordered something other than the heart-smart egg whatever breakfast wrap. “Dude. Case? Dead bodies? Thinking it’s a werewolf? Am I ringing any bells here?”

Oh, right, case. Not Cas. Extra letter.

Sam sighed. “Seriously, man. What’s got you so distracted lately?”

Well, cowboy boots, but that probably wasn’t what Dean should say.

“Cas,” Dean said. Goddammit, Dean. That wasn’t any better. Go for the save. “Uh, I mean, doesn’t he seem different lately? With, like, the makeover and all?”

Pursing his lips, Sam stared down at his (sad, sad) plate. His shoulders shook, looking suspiciously like a (poor) attempt to suppress laughter. “Dean, he”– Sam snorted. Yup, definitely laughter– “he wanted some stuff of his own, since he’s permanatly moved in the bunker. I helped him out.”

“You helped him out? Why didn’t he ask me? You don’t have any fashion sense!”

Sam didn’t hold back his laughter anymore. The entire diner turned and glared.

⁂

Yup. It was werewolves. A couple of silver bullets and a few bruises later (god, Dean was getting old; he ached), the brothers made it home in time for dinner. Parking Baby in front of the bunker’s entrance, Dean was distracted with pleasant thoughts about pulling on his soft hot dog pants and warm dead guy robe and watching cowboy movies (that would scratch the itch, he hoped) so he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings.

When Dean stepped out of Baby, he was not ready.

He was not ready at all.

A vintage motorcycle (a fucking cool one), complete with the little round headlight on the handlebars, sat a few feet away. Curvy and sleek, it shone. Its paint and chrome was recently restored, and, on any other day, Dean would have whistled.

It was probably a good thing he wasn’t able to whistle because Cas, innocently sitting there (oh fuck, was Dean dreaming?) on the motorcycle, would have heard it. Dean choked instead, his throat suddenly dry. Behind him, he heard Sam slam the passenger side door shut.

“Hey, Cas! She’s looking good, man.” Sam walked over to Cas, because yes, that was indeed Cas on the motorcycle (oh fuck, Dean was not dreaming), and they started chatting about the vehicle.

Wait. Sam knew about this? The whole time?

Dean wanted to stomp over there and ask what the hell was going on, but his legs didn’t work. Dean leaned against Baby’s door (he totally did that on purpose to look cool, okay), and drank in the sight of Cas.

Oh, no. Cas was hot. Hotter.

Cas wore a leather motorcycle jacket, decorated with a pair of wings (there was Cas’s weird sense of humour, again) on the back. His long (so long) fingers, poking out from a pair of fingerless gloves, held a helmet steady against his hip. He had on a pair of seriously cool biker boots (Dean should totally ask where he got them) and another pair of nice, thigh hugging jeans.

The worst part, though, was that those thighs straddled (straddled!) the motorcycle seat, holding it upright no problem.

Wait. Was Dean jealous of a motorcycle? Those thighs could straddle him like–

“Hey, Dean!” Sam waved from his place next to Cas. “Everything okay over there?”

At that, Dean’s legs cooperated. He joined the other two.

Shit. Hot. Hotter. Hottest. Dean could see that now that he was up close and personal with Cas.

“Yeah. Uh, sweet–” Dean cleared his throat. Shit, it was dry. “Sweet ride, Cas.”

Sam burst out a laugh. Dean subtly flipped him off. By doing it right in Sam’s face.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said. Dean swore Cas’s cheeks were flushed. Cas’s eyes were definitely wide and bright and blue (so blue). “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled. “Love it.”

 All of it. All of you.  

Okay, Cas’s cheeks flushed now, for certain. “I’m going to take her for– how does it go?– for a spin.”

Oh, no. Hot and cute and a dork.

Dean was so done for.

After strapping on his helmet, Cas started up the engine with a satisfying roar. He peeled away from the bunker. Dean bet Cas’s wide smile could be seen from outer space.

Sam slapped Dean on the back. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's shit-eating little brother grin.

“Sweet ride? Seriously, Dean?”

“What?” Dean shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugged. “Looks good.”

“The ride or the guy?”

Dean sucked in a breath. He choked on it. While Dean coughed up both his lungs, Sam didn’t even help him or show concern. His grin only got wider and more shit-eatery (that’s totally a thing). Some brother. Once he shoved his lungs back into their proper place, Dean finally managed to say something. He gulped down air, ready to unleash his deadly comeback.

“Shaddup.”

[bogusavathepit]

Why Edward Otherwise Can’t Resist Bella

Disclaimer: This is what I think Meyer sets up when we’re reading the novel, Midnight Sun.

It took a lot for Edward to even regard Bella apart form the crowd of annoying humans, most of it a more intricate and sinister web of a sensory experience than “she smelled good”. That’s par for the course for Edward, because in case you haven’t noticed...

1. Edward is a vampire from Twilight.  

Twilight vampires are distinct from other vampire figures and depictions of blooddrinkers of the past many centuries in that their bloodthirst has the quality of animalistic addiction. 

They are more compelled by all their physical instincts similar to, I think, how humans are compelled by their fear instinct. They live by and rely on their sense of smell first, then their eyes and hearing. Like the vampires of the past few decades (The Vampire Chronicles, Buffy, etc.), they are also a bit hedonistic; they derive pleasure from their sensory experiences--drinking blood and having sex with their partners only it seems, though. 

And I can’t really blame them since they have nothing meaningful or compelling else apart from their mates/strong relationships and this thirst that feels like acid, fire, or an unbearable dryness. They can’t interact with the broader world besides jobs and positions that have them not interact with humans close enough that humans will notice them. The same thirst they hate because it will always remind them of their first painful transformation. 

If there is nothing they do for eternity other than stay very still forlong periods of time and maybe deep-think, hunt, fight, kill, and have sex (most of the time), I imagine that their lives aren't as dynamic as humans' can be. Which goes into the next point...

2. Edward is hella BORED!

And jaded by the time the Cullens land in Forks. His gift is unfiltered mind reading at a distance, and he can’t just turn it off at will. He can only concentrate on something else to not get overwhelmed, or as overwhelmed as vampire can get. 

Because of the nature of his gift and his status as golden boy, he has gotten used to the idea that he knows everything about how and what people think. So he also doesn’t bother to directly engage with others other than Carlisle, who he looks to as a role model in self possession. 

So he’s emotionally detached from most people, humans and vampires alike.

3. Edward doesn’t like himself very much...and he likes himself too much.

Edward lives with a strange condition. 

While he prizes his mind reading giving him the ability to discern others’ intentions and feelings so he can alert his family of, he also claims to hate being a vampire. I can buy into that. Although his vampirism allows him to have a gift in the first place, it also compels him to kill people for sustenance. (Edward is still kind of the exception since he made the exception for himself hunting the depraved and most evil of humanity for a while.) 

If I were to compare it to my feelings about being part of the human species, I’d say that though my humanity/human brain allows me to innovate, create, and use tools, it also makes it so that I’m capable of great cruelty and stupidity towards others and even myself. 

Twilight vampirism grants super enhancements and, for some, an extra ability, but it also can present moral quandaries.

Edward’s “I will triumph because I should” attitude and Protestant Christian-inspired beliefs the buffer it makes it so that he despises the idea of vampirism and thus himself. Or believes that he should despise vampirism, so he acts in that belief. 

He seems afraid of losing all of his carefully-built control, and control is more than just saving humans’ lives for him. It is the way he preserves a semblance of what he believes makes him humane/human, i.e., having no (even “evil”) blood on his hands. 

And all this comes from his admiration and love for Carlisle as the embodiment of goodness and moral perfection. Edward wants to be “good” and thus strives to be the “good” to those he perceives as morally perfect, specifically those who are gentle and compassionate, i.e, Carlisle and Bella.

So, the only things he truly likes/embraces are his gift and his ability to run faster than the others. As his gift allows him to at least be one step ahead and to protect his family, it makes a sort of sense that he’d be very protective of it, as he is in Midnight Sun. 

It is one of the two only things that define his self-worth as he already defines that worth. 

As for running really fast--well who wouldn’t like to run faster than everyone else? 

Then in comes this human girl who he can’t easily read from the jump. 

Yeah, I can see the appeal (non-romantically) Meyer’s trying to sell. Not only is she different (she’s not like the other girls, yuck) and a challenge of his self control (yuckier, rapey), she is also a kind of a reprieve while also being an opportunity for him to actually engage with things outside of the trap that is his changeless eternal life and his own self-hatred.

So Why does Edward like Bella? 

Why can’t he resist her or stay away? Ultimately, I think it chalks up to her as the only way for him to:

“be brought back to life“; emerge from the horrific monotony of vampire life and to be more engaged, which in itself defines living vs. surviving as a principle

have a safe haven or space to be himself without hating what he is--find self love or self acceptance

discover/reconnect with the veracity and depth of with his own humanity/goodness

P.S.

To me at this moment of writing this post, Bella and Aslan (The Narnia Chronicles) are two Jesus-like figures for different reasons and in different forms and functions. But they are still both characters modeled after the Christian savior in some form as they are people whose presence and character inspire others to think differently about themselves, their own values, their purpose, and the world/society at large.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

The Outsider Chapter 10

Ganondorf x reader

Word Count: 1295

Summary: Bad Times, Bad Times, are ahead, I tells ya.

Serious note SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THIS STORY, but also Trigger Warning: Character death, like bigtime.

It had been a month since you left, and the Gerudo kingdom was all the worse for it. During your absence, even the people that hated you came to realize what a calming presence you were on their king. He was prone to making harsh decisions; things that used to be met with patience and a want to mediate were now being ignored or even punished for taking up his time. He was quick to anger to the point that Nixa had once had to physically restrain him–as much as she could until he came back to his senses–from lashing out with his sword against some shopkeep. There were no parties, no festivals, no feasts. The few local holidays that fell within the month of your absence went completely ignored. It seemed, in their haste to be rid of you, the faction against you had failed to realize that they never really knew their king without you affecting his mental state.

Little did they know that they had it easy, but they would soon learn.

Ganon was slumped in his throne like he’d been every day since your departure, unhappy and wanting nothing more than to have you by his side. There had been no leads on the culprit that drove you to take the cursed trip to Hylia, and there was still another month to go until you finally returned. Needless to say, he was not a happy king. He rolled his eyes openly when he saw a messenger that seemed to be shaking with fear approach followed by a covered, horse-drawn cart. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, voice booming through the large room.

The frightened woman cleared her throat nervously as she raised a paper so she could read from it. “Your-Your Highness. A letter has been sent by the Hylian king with this cart.”

That garnered his attention enough that he sat forward in his seat, forearms resting atop his lets. “Well, what is it? More ridicule from a man that keeps chasing off his wives?”

“No, s-sir. I-it says, ‘I am s-sick of entert-taining your thieving ways. Is it not enough that the l-legacy of your pe-people is one no b-better than a band of ba-bandits? Now you steal one-one of our o-own and b-brainwash her to be your wife.”

He paid no heed to her terrified yelp as he roared, “What does he know of her?! We did not steal her!”

“Sir, perhaps if you let her finish,” Nixa spoke patiently, eyes not leaving her temperamental king in case she needed to protect the messenger from his wrath. 

His next order was in a growl so low that all present could feel it reverberate through their chests, “Continue.”

Nixa could only toss the girl a small smile of reassurance.

“‘A-as king of Hylia,’” she continued, voice shaking even more than before, “‘I have ordered her to be,” her eyes flicked between Nixa and Ganondorf for a breath, showing how truly terrified of finishing the letter, “‘t-t-terminated. Allow her b-body to be a less-lesson against your true n-nature.’”

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Speak carefully, little messenger, or your next words will be your last. That cannot be what that letter says; now, you speak the truth of what the king had to say or I’ll feed you to the Molduking.”

Nixa, however, was left shaking both in her hands and her head in a slow denial of the words that were just spoken into being. While the messenger cowered before their king, she slowly approached the cart, torn between not wanting and needing to see what secrets it held. Her hands were vibrating so hard that she had trouble grasping the black cloth overtop the wagon. When she pulled back the draping, she couldn’t help the scream of horror that left her mouth.

Instantly, Ganondorf was on his feet and storming to her side. The messenger barely had time to jump out of the way before he could shove her to the side. Wisely, she made a hasty exit before the king could reach the cart. He paid no mind to the fleeing girl because he only had eyes for the contents of the cart.

Inside, he saw something that would forever haunt him. Something that would never allow him to sleep peacefully again, something that would drive him to the deepest, darkest parts of his soul. Something that brought forth the beast that had been prowling at the edge of his vision, clawing at the back of his skull in an attempt to escape ever since he could remember, held back only by the ray of light that you brought whenever you were near.

Inside the cart, was you.

You were beaten, bloodied, and broken.

One hand was missing, and the dancing attire you were wearing was practically shredded from what he could only assume had been the desperate fight for your life. I knew she never should have left my side.

Beside him, Ganondorf was only vaguely aware of the fact that Nixa, his ever-strong personal guard, was openly weeping, crying out and grasping at your face as if that would make you wake up. “Leave, Nixa,” he snarled in a low voice, only barely managing to keep control of the purple energy that had started writhing around his hands.

She turned teary golden eyes to him. “I won’t leave her,” she insisted. “My baby. My baby! MY BABY! WHAT HAS HE DONE?!” she screamed her anguish as if it would bring her answers.

Ganon’s voice was controlled the next time he spoke, frighteningly so considering the sheer, unfiltered rage that was twisting his otherwise handsome face, “Leave this place, Nixa, or you will be buried here. Find those that did this; find the assassins that took her from me. Find them and kill them. I will handle the king and the rest of Hylia.”

It was Nixa’s turn to let her fury distort her beautiful face, turning her into what could only be described as a monster that thirsted for vengeance and would settle for nothing less. In an instant she had vanished in search of the blood of those who killed her daughter.

It was then that Ganondorf allowed the real magnitude of his rage to take control of his mind, body, and soul. A roar ripped its way from his throat with such ferocity that it could be heard to every border of the Great Gerudo Desert. Dark, purple energy erupted from him in a wave that leveled every structure in the city, killing every inhabitant in one fell tsunami of evil power. There was no chance of escape for anyone that was caught in the warpath as the blight of Ganon was reborn into the world. Skies darkened all the way to Central Hyrule, alerting the king to the plight that would soon be headed his way.

And at the epicenter of all this chaos was him, cradling your corpse as he wept.

“I will kill him,” he swore. “I will tear his throat out with my teeth, and eat his precious daughter’s heart in front of him while his wife watches.” His voice cracked as he murmured those words against your temple, fingers tangled in your hair like he always did when he held you.

It had been a normal scouting mission when a simple Gerudo guard stumbled across a crying little child. Anyone with eyes could see that you were destined to be close to the Gerudo King, Ganondorf. Many said that you were going to be his reason to break the cycle, the reason to save him from the beast that haunted his soul.

No one realized that signing your death warrant was the same as signing their own.

[chrystalyxpoetryportal]

The Protector

Beacons of light Created through my souls’ power Of bright hearted care, visions of clear accomplishments, magnetic self-confidence, and unfiltered sounds of a thunderous power of true goals in loving reason Such energy shot from my heart Flying like the colors of the rainbow Seeking out hearts weakened. Those hit the hardest… At their weakest hour Those who have had their blissful natures battered by darkness’ treason. And their peaceful notions replaced with the haunting shrieks of darker horror. It scours… All bright particles from its victims. A creature of destruction… A blood thirsty vampire. in need of another’s soul In which to nourish and quench the endless evil thirst Your memories of brighter days. Your bright emotions… Such are fluids of power. Shedding darkness as it attacks…Exchanging such dark energies for the more powerful bright ones In which to feed him… By the entity’s black storm of ” non creative, self-hearted selfishness, – a cold arrogance, and shallow hate.” As it feeds upon you. The beast steals the valuable and great powers that are the inner warmth of beauty and self-hearted strengths… Inside of your heart. Weakening a soul as it floats away Leaving a comatose heart in darkness Once such which was bright and true. Exchanging the Happiness and Kindest of your soul Filling your beating heart. Strengthening’ the hatred, dark filled impulses, and destroying your self-empowered energies… This beast is “cheerleading the darkness” as it has once sucked from your soul. Replacements of the evil, in which in your soul, was empty. This beast enjoyed to have ,started a “Depository of A Parasitic Empowered Stride” As deep, within your secret portions of your soul’s closets, in which you have dark moments held there. Locked, inside this vault. A Means in which to maintain an “empowering and healing self stride” You remain. Stripped of love and burning with anger. I witness such and fight for your honor. Upon my “white horse” I ride. Chasing the “Beast of Sorrow” I have armed myself with the ” sword of tomorrow.” With ” Truth’s Scepter of Selflessness..” I chase this beast and wish to vanquish it from your soul… I charged up and stabbed the enemy visitor’s energy source. A cloud created of pain, fear, and the energies of despair A foul creature who feeds upon his victims. No more energy as my Scepter blasts it back inside of your battered will. Until your soul is clean and bright “ You can “build your newer kingdom “ From the ashes of darkness and the building materials of light… Through Sucking all your happy, blessed, and loving memories from your soul. Through Sucking the energies, which his fangs feast upon, he starts shooting the “blood of the darker visions and fears” Exchanged from becoming light. You start to grow to the dark… within your soul. Into it’s void… I struck hard and destroyed the monster. Once bitten and dark I had to fight and prepare for the fight I was one who would overpower and destroy. That ” One, who has feasted and plagued… a now bright heart leaps before you. Sheltering you from his touch and presence. A “Trojan Horse” acting with a script until this evil partnership is ended. Protection of others feeds my energy as it refills yours…New rules to employ. Fighting to the end Battling this Greedy Monster In protection and ensuring that innocence will never be forgotten. A fight worth the blood, sweat, tears, and a broken truth “bender” Through ” Blind ignorance.” Energies which are that of PURE Evil. So that loyalty, love, and the caring, and stronger wills Beings, once strucken by him or once darkened by his feast upon them Such forces Can be restored. Or remain as such… I stay strong. I enjoy. Fighting for those ” stricken and now weakened.” True Souls… Stripped of Truth and the honor of “Dignity’s Flag…” I conquered the beast of Darkness by the light of the Scepter. I wield my sword and shot it into the “vacant area” that once was this beast’s heart. Your soul was renewed out the dead one’s. from my own ” Heart’s energies shared with your weakened will and fighting for true care for you and Humanity I return to my “Fortress of Valor.” My “Happy Place” and My “Strongest Fortified Lair .”

[imaginestardewvalley]

Can you do the Bachelors as their zodiac signs?

(I’m gonna assume you mean me guessing their zodiac signs, so I’ll do my best since this is right up my alley!

I’m also going to do both bachelors + bachelorettes)

Bachelors

Alex: Leo! Alex is absolutely a fire sign with a strong personality. He’s got a lot of confidence in him, and can come off big-headed at times, but he has a heart of gold and is extremely loyal to family and friends.

Elliott: Libra! He’s a great lover of beauty and harmony, and loves to take part in the arts (preferring writing but appreciating other forms). He also enjoys being social when he has the time.

Harvey: Capricorn! Harvey is very level-headed, calm, and serious when it comes to his life; he knows what he wants, and he works hard to achieve his goals.

Sam: Cancer! Sam is emotional, bold, and very family-oriented. He’s been that way since he was born, loving to spend time with his parents and then in turn loving to hang out Vincent (even if he gets busier as he gets older).

Sebastian: Aquarius! Sebastian can seem a little odd or off-kilter to some people who don’t know him well, but in the end, he’s strongly independent and good-hearted, even if he appears aloof at times.

Shane: Taurus! He feels like he leans a little more into the stereotypical sloth side of Taurus, with none of the stability earth signs are known for. He is, however, patient and dedicated to those who are close to him.

Bachelorettes

Abigail: Scorpio! Sometimes it feels like she’s unnecessarily secretive, mostly when it comes to her parents, and she can be rather explosive when confronted, but she’s just very passionate and full of strong emotions she can’t always control.

Emily: Taurus! Emily is rather stubborn, which can cause her to clash with the more fiery Haley when it comes to having to make decisions. She’s also very caring and motherly, deeply connected to music and loving to cook.

Haley: Aries! Haley is incredibly honest, and can come off rather rude when stating her unfiltered opinion; her thoughts are often unfiltered, but this can be a charm point to some.

Leah: Pisces! She’s very in tune with her creative and emotional sides, and is also rather intuitive when it comes to other people. But sometimes, she can be overly trusting, which can lead her to get hurt by those with bad intentions.

Maru: Virgo! Maru is very practical, thoughtful, and organized, knowing what she wants out of life and the path she wants to go on. She can appear high-strung and stiff, but she knows how to relax around those she trusts.

Penny: Sagittarius! She loves to learn new things, and thirsts for more in life than just living in the trailer with her mother. She loves to collect knowledge, even if it’s for things that are seemingly useless in her daily life.