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adrianastrix · 4 months ago

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I love the subtle ways Van Helsing's law background show up during the novel, because it shows that Stoker had the same levels of "I'll obsess at every minutia of the logistics of this vampire hunt because this is fun" that I usually have in writing, and it's weirdly validating to see that you share something with a great writer.

It also ties down in one of my favourite past times when conceptualizing Bram & Vlad: speculating about that "beta" cast of characters present on Stoker's notes, what remains of the ones that were cut, and what it says about the ones added later.

According to those notes, in earlier forms of the manuscript, there was no Van Helsing, but there were three different characters that disappeared: a German professor (Max Windshoeffel), a detective (Cotford) and a paranormal investigator (Albert Singleton, a "psychical research agent", in the notes). I suspect that Stoker dispersed their roles among the other characters and gave the professor what wouldn't fit anywhere else, and that he did it when he started to consider the logistics of a theater adaptation (let's not forget how Dracula's detailed description miiiight be a nudge into getting Sir Irwin to play him on stage).

Since film adaptations usually cut the cast of hunters even more, it was the right call. It created a character that impacts the plot in a major way and remains relevant through most of the book, instead of three that only shine in small parts: the professor would only be relevant in the fight to save Lucy, and maaaaybe in dispensing obscure vampire folklore when needed, the psychic researcher would be relevant in the field work of freeing Lucy of vampirism and in hypnotizing Mina, and the detective would be mostly relevant in that franctic pursuit of Dracula, plus those bits of documental investigation and any law troubles that could arise.

Now, I have seen people assuming that Van Helsing is simply a composite character of those three, and that's why his behavior changes drastically here and there, but I beg to differ. Like I said, you can see residues of the roles of the detective in most of the crew, and more specially on the Harker couple, once they join the frey. Then, whatever seemed to be legal knowledge too advanced for a young solicitor and his enthusiastic geeky wife went to the resident smart guy, the professor. One has to wonder if Van Helsing jarring "compliment" of Mina having a "man's brain" isn't an inside joke pointing to the fact that most of her role used to be attributed to a man (and kudos to Stoker for not hesitating in giving her the deductive powers of the detective, instead of any of the others).

The "psychical research agent" seems to have blended mostly into Van Helsing, but here I think that Quincey (and in some parts, Arthur) also absorbed the action parts of this role, leaving to Van Helsing the brain part, the leadership part and a bit on the final act (that I won't spoil x3). And, amusingly enough, as a result of that, I really think that part of the professor's role went to Seward. You see, Van Helsing is a full blown scientist with research papers on the brain matter and all. And he is the one lamenting the faults of modern science in the face of Seward's reasonable skepticism. I wonder if that wasn't going to be the main dynamics between the original professor and the paranormal investigator until the latter was vindicated, and that's why the suspicion of vampire activity doesn't reach Seward (who used to be Lucy's fiancé, btw, no wonder he was so devastated by Lucy's death, much more than her actual fiancé): his mentor, the professor, is the one shutting down the paranormal researcher's conclusions, to the detriment of Lucy's health.

While I think it makes that misunderstanding part work better narratively in this light, I do like the final solution of a scientist being open-minded to the paranormal stuff, adding to the themes of science and progress steam-rolling Dracula's imperialist/colonialist overlord brain, even if it comes at the cost of this scientist being a bit too coy to suggest to a psychiatrist that penny dreadful monsters were involved on a real life matter.

(Bonus pondering: note how Renfield's mania sometimes fall into religious ramble out of nowhere, then it comes back to a very naturalistic/materialistic form in the eating of bugs - could it be a symptom of him originally being an academic that went mad, since he is familiar with Van Helsing's work, and then was fused to the "silent nun" character?)

My main motivation in this speculation was to use it in Bram & Vlad's version of how things in Dracula played out, but I also do that because I think is fun. We will never really have a definitive answer (and that's fine!), but this is still the sort of thing that tickles my creativity centers something fierce.

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

October 17th

Everything is pretty well fixed now, I think, to welcome the Count on his return from his tour.

This is giving “If you think it’s funny to call my wife’s blood a ‘refreshment’ I’m about to be hilarious” and I love this for him

Godalming told the shippers that he fancied that the box sent aboard might contain something stolen from a friend of his, and got a half consent that he might open it at his own risk. The owner gave him a paper telling the Captain to give him every facility in doing whatever he chose on board the ship, and also a similar authorisation to his agent at Varna. We have seen the agent, who was much impressed with Godalming's kindly manner to him, and we are all satisfied that whatever he can do to aid our wishes will be done.

Ah yes, Arthur’s superpowers:

Being universally liked

Being an English lord

The Professor says that if we can so treat the Count's body, it will soon after fall into dust. In such case there would be no evidence against us, in case any suspicion of murder were aroused.

I appreciate Van Helsing’s commitment to not getting the gang arrested.

< Prev 🦇

#dracula #dracula daily #bram stoker's notes for dracula #van helsing #dr seward #renfield #mina harker #lucy westenra #vampires #bram and vlad #I still have the draft for the Bram and Vlad booklet detailing Bram's crashing into the Vampire Society's Ball #Bram has to come up with a pseudonym on the spot and his brain goes DIRECTLY to “Max Windshoeffel”#Vlad mocks him for it and a comic strip flashback reveals that this was also how OG Van Helsing came up with it when contacting Stoker #now WHY OG Van Helsing had this super specific German surname at the tip of his tongue to offer as a pseudonym is anyone's (funny) guess

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asharasasylum · 5 months ago

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♡ drabble booklet - entry 1

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ warnings: step-cest. corruption kink. dry humping. smut. 18+

Step!Brother Rafe finds you irresistible as you try to make yourself comfortable on his lap. You’re wearing that sheer slip, the one that practically leaves you bare in front of him. It’s stupid, he thinks but he tries not to comment on it, knowing it’ll only make you pout at him and try to slip away from him again.

Like the way you're softly pouting now as you look at him. “Rafe,” you fearfully whisper, staring at him with wide doe eyes. “I don’t think we should-”

He shushes you quickly, fingers threading themselves through the strands of your hair as he pulls you forward. “Relax,” he tells you, nudging his nose against yours. “Just like I taught you, remember?”

You nod, leaning further into him and being the good step-sister he had taught you to be. You press your lips to his, gentle and almost unsure at first when they connect, only to grow hungrier when he reciprocates. It’s always the same, you pretend to not like it, to not be that into it, only to become desperate from his touch. You soon find yourself eagerly parting your lips when his tongue swipes against them, letting his tongue roam freely in your mouth.

Rafe thinks he likes the little game you play, you acting coy every time he comes into your room, only seconds later for you to be whimpering into his mouth. He likes the idea that he is corrupting you.

“I’m going to guide you, okay?” Rafe tells you, with a smug smile. His hands fall to your hips as they grip onto them, kneading his thumbs into your flesh as he prepares you for what he’s about to do.

You nod bashfully, barely taking notice of what he’s actually doing until you feel it. Your crotch rubs against him as he rolls your hips, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“You okay?” He asks, cupping your cheek with one hand. You nod again, only this time your eyes are half lidded as you dazedly stare at him. “This okay?” He rolls his hips upwards, his hardened cock pushing up against you in the process and watching how your lips part to take another steady breath.

“Yes,” you mutter, reacting to him as you follow his movements. As always you’re a quick learner, taking what you want and letting your desires guide you.

“There you go.”

You barely register his words, or when his hands start to roam over your body. You’re too lost in the feel of him rubbing against you, your clothed pussy becoming slick every time he nudged upwards into your clit. You can’t even think about kissing him, and you love kissing him, you’re just too focused on the feel of him underneath you and the way your stomach knots in delight.

The clothes between you don’t lessen the friction and yet you still really want to take off your shorts. You think he can tell, reading your fucked out expresion as you stare at him through hazy eyes. If he can’t see it written over your face, he can hear it in your sharp breaths as you move your hips faster.

“Rafe,” you whimper when he stops, pulling your hips up off of him.

“Give me a sec,” Rafe hisses, hand slipping down to his shorts.

You follow his hand, watching as he adjusts himself in his shorts. You’ve never seen it before, not even like this, his hardened cock a thick outline in his shorts. He’s big, you can tell even though you have no other guys to compare it to.

He groans, when he manages to get it into a more comfortable position. His cock slaps forward, the tip peeking through the waistband of his shorts. Bright red and leaking.

“Take it out,” the words fall from your tongue catching you both by surprise.

“You sure?” He asks, with furrowed brows.

“Please,” you pout at him.

His hand slips back into the waistband of his shorts with no hesitation, and you watch with wide eyes as he pulls it free. It seems bigger for some reason and you can’t help but stare as he gives it a few strokes.

He’s quick to yank you back down on top of him, bringing you both back to moments ago. Only it’s better now, Rafe can feel how wet you are, literally dripping through the sheer panties you call shorts. He groans at the sensation, grinding himself harder up into you and eliciting a moan from your lips.

“You’re soaked,” he tells you, hands roaming over your body once again.

“Your fault,” you mumble, bringing your lips down to his. You don’t kiss but your lips part as your moans slip from your tongue and into his mouth. It feels good, too good. Especially when your panties get caught, sliding to the side and your bare pussy ends up gliding over him.

“Shit,” Rafe hisses at this, the sensation and the way you’re panting like some bitch in heat, driving him insane.

You’re close, your toes curling as your stomach begins to stir and you begin to clench around nothing. He can tell when your hands grip onto his shoulders, and you bite back at a noise that threatens to be too loud.

He helps you through it, using his hands to keep you sliding up and down his dick, watching how you finally crumble when your orgasm washes over you. He watches the way you fight to keep your eyes locked with him and the way your teeth sink into your lips to hold back your moans.

But Rafe doesn’t stop there, prolonging the overstimulating feeling as he continues to grind against you, grazing over your sensitive clit repeatedly. He uses you, groaning into your lips as he chases his own high. He doesn’t even think when he starts to spill out onto his stomach, thick ropes coating his abdomen, completely forgetting that he’s still rubbing you over him, coating your pussy in his cum.

Even as he does realise he’s too shameless to care, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you down against him. He knows he should clean you up, but he doesn’t want to as he presses his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. And he thinks you don’t want to either.

#dark rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader

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spencereidluver · 1 year ago

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I is for "I Knew It!"

november 07, 2008

summary: You and Spencer are caught going out by an all-too-familiar face, causing the two of you to have a talk about the logistics of your relationship.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: the fluffiest fluff anyone has ever seen

“Hey hey, put that wallet away,” Spencer says as you pull your wallet out from your purse. He never let you pay for dinner, even though you begged every time. You will admit, it is nice to always have your dinner paid for, however, you felt bad having him spend so much money on you.

“No. I want to pay tonight. You always pay,” you said and opened your wallet.

“My payment is having the world’s prettiest girlfriend. I’m paying for dinner, that's final.” He gently grabs your wrist from across the table, stopping you from making any further moves with the wallet. “Got it?”

“Fine, but I’m buying you a coffee in the morning.” You put the wallet back in your purse and give Spencer a smile. You playfully click your shoes with his underneath the table and take a final sip of your drink. Spencer places a credit card on the small black booklet on the edge of the table.

The waitress comes and collects the booklet, giving the two of you a quick smile and says she’ll be right back.

Spencer hands her a five dollar and two one dollar bills as a tip, and she makes her way to the register.

Spence lets go of your wrist and points his finger at you. “You,” he says, waves his finger at you as he says the words, “should come hang out at my apartment tonight.”

The waitress comes back and hands Spencer his card. “You guys have a good night,” she says as she backs up to let the two of you out of the booth then proceeding to clear off the table.

Spencer laces his hand with yours as the two of you weave through tables to exit the restaurant. “We can watch a movie or something,” he leans into your ear as you walk.

“I would love to, Spence,” you say and open the door to exit.

“Spencer Reid?” a familiar woman's voice says as the two of you walk out hand-in-hand. You feel his grip tighten.

The woman was blonde and very pregnant. She was with a thin goateed man.

“Oh, hey JJ,” Spencer says, stopping his step. “How’s it going?”

“Great, I can’t believe you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me!” JJ looks at you, her mouth immediately becoming agape. “Y/N?”

Yeah, no one knew you and Spencer were seeing each other.

“Hey, JJ…” You say, happy to see her, but in a little bit of an awkward situation.

“How long? How long has this been going on?” She says, looking over at her boyfriend, Will excitedly.

“Um about a month,” you begin to say before being interrupted by Mr. Exact.

“35 days,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.

“That’s crazy! Oh my god I can’t believe this. Does anyone else know?” JJ would probably be jumping for joy right now if she wasn’t 9 months pregnant. Will just looked at her lovingly.

“No, we haven’t told anyone yet, we wanted to wait until our relationship was solid.” Spencer said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Seems pretty solid to me,” you say under your breath and lean into Spencer.

“You have to tell the team! They’d be so excited,” JJ exclaims.

“Yeah, we’re going to, we’re just not sure when.” Spencer says.

“It better be before I come back from maternity leave. If you guys aren’t BAU official by the Christmas party you will be sorry.” JJ playfully threatens before being dragged to the door by Will who waves goodbye.

You and Spencer begin walking to his car. “You know, That felt good. To finally tell someone,” you said and lean further into Spencer as your steps match up.

“Yeah, it did,” Spencer says, “What movie do you want to watch?” “The Red Circle is always good.”

“Yeah, but I think I want to watch more of an immature movie. I need a break.”

“How about WALL-E?”

“WALL-E sounds awesome.”

Spencer let go of your waist when you reached his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you in by your hand, then hurried around to get in the car himself.

_____

“I think we should tell the team,” Spencer says. You were sat between his legs on his couch leaned against his shoulder. One of his arms was wrapped around you, the other hand was playing with your hair. He halted his movements once the words came out of his mouth. It was almost as if he didn’t mean to say it outloud.

“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. The lighting from the t.v. hit his face, bringing attention to the rosy blush bleeding through his cheeks.

“I um… I want to tell the team we’re together,” he repeats. Your mouth falls open, unsure of what to say. “I know it’s early, but I just, I don’t want to have to hide you from them. You’re so special to me.”

“Spencer…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I know it could put a lot of pressure on a new relationship, but I…”

You need to shut him up. You lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, letting your breath linger on his mouth. “No, if you’re ready to tell everyone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” His eyes light up. He looks so happy.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He leans his head into your shoulder and gently pecks a kiss on your collarbone. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He looks up at you and smiles, resting his chin against your chest.

You loved when he let you baby him like this. It took him a while to be comfortable enough to let his guard down like this around you, but once he was able to, he basically never stopped. He loved being able to have someone to care for him as it was something he never experienced, even as a child.

WALL-E is playing in the background, the scene where he is showing EVE around his house illuminating the room. Spencer looks up at you, eyes glowing. He nuzzles into your chest, careful not to bump your breasts. He was so respectful; the sweetest boy.

“What, Spencer?” you ask, keeping your voice smooth and calm. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but you had to make sure not to seem annoyed as he was sensitive.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, then buries his head in the crook of your neck.

That’s not what he wants to say, but you comb your fingers through his hair and say, “thank you.” You feel him mumble something into your chest. “What, baby?” you ask him.

“Y/n,” he says, you hum in response, “I think I’m in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Spence,” you say, grabbing his chin and leading his face up to kiss him.

_____

next chapter: J is for "Just So You Know"

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

_____

a/n: hiii :3 i'm currently on break from school and have the next two days off from work, i'm going to try to grind so hard and try my best to get the christmas part out on the 25th, but if that doesn't happen please don't get upset at me... it will 100% be out in december, as the new years part is for sure being posted on the 31st. have an awesome night guys !!

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie

@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss

@random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

@hookergutss @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33 @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden

@mellowdreamerbanana @readbydayana

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencereidluver #spencer reid a-z

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shiftythrifting · 8 months ago

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Got a bullshit bag full of cookie cutters and found this gem inside

Neato! Vintage-looking cookie cutter with a cute card still attached!

Wait, what’s that?

Spices inside? Oh hey, it’s a booklet!

Recipes, tips, and, yep, a spice packet.

How old is this thing?

1994

This is a twenty-year-old spice packet stapled to a cookie cutter.

Anyway here’s the recipe for sunflower sunshine cookies

#shiftythrifting #thrifting #submission #cookie cutter #very old spices #vintage #cookie recipe #value village #food #expired shit #recipes

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emilieautumnarchives · 1 month ago

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Orkus International (Nov/Dec/Jan 2007/2008)

This English edition of Orkus featured EA's "Mad Tea Party." It was printed in black and white, but colored versions have been floating around for a while. The magazine also included a Laced/Unlaced Poster.

Speculation: Because the scans I have are in German, I assume this also appeared in the December 2007 issue of Orkus Magazine.

Note: I typed out the German myself. Excuse any misspellings or weirdness; I don't speak German.

EMILIE AUTUMN: MAD TEA PARTY Taking time out from the madness to enjoy teatime doesn't mean you have to be sane...

Treue Fans wissen, dass Emilie Autumns Welt nicht hinter ihrer wegwelsenden Musik aufort. Mit ihrem Asylum hat sich die bildhubsche, arbeitssuchtige Victoriandustrial-Prinzessin einen ureigenen, geheimnisvollen und faszinierenden Kosmos kreiert, and dem man bisher nur auf ihren Live-Shows oder in den fabelhaften Booklets ihrer CDs teilhaben konnte. Nun jedoch offnet Emilie die Tore in ihre Welt und bittet die Orkus-Leser zu einer unvergesslichen Teestunde im einzigartigen Emilie Autumn-Stil. Kostliche Kuchen, unerwartete Dinge aus Marzipan, gar rosige Bonbonbs, Schoko-Schlemmereien... wenn Miss Autumn schon ze einer Teestunde ladt, dann aber bitte mit sehr viel Stil und Genuss. Und damit diese Teestunde im viktorianischen Asylum-Stil kein Einzelfall bleiben muss, hat Emilie gleich ihre Lieblingsrezepte mitgebracht, die wir fur Euch aufrgrund ihrer unvergleichbaren Sprache in unveranderter, englischer Form gesammelt haben.

Highly Doubtful Teacake with Very Suspicious Crème

What makes this teacake so very “doubtful” is the addition of fresh lavender, the historical meaning for which is “distrustful”. So be careful whom you share it with…

Teacake Ingredients:

1 cup milk

3 Tbsp. fresh chopped lavender flowers

2 cups all-purpose flour

1½ tsp. baking powder

¼ tsp. salt

6 Tbsp. butter, softened

1 cup sugar

2 large eggs

Instructions:

Grease and flour a loaf pan, and no, I won’t tell you what size because it won’t matter anyway. You’re going to use whatever pan you have, and I’m not holding that against you, I do the same. Half of my recipes were created entirely out of being on the road touring, and really needing to make tarts, but having not the proper equipment. Baking is an adventure, so do treat it as such.

In any case! After greasing and flouring, kindly preheat your oven to 325°F. In a small saucepan, heat the milk, adding the chopped lavender and bring almost to a boil, then remove from heat and let steep until cool.

Sift flour, baking powder and salt together in a bowl. In another bowl, thrash the butter about until it’s light and creamy and gradually add sugar, then eggs, one at a time, thrashing even more until the whole mess is light and fluffy and much prettier than you ever imagined raw eggs ought to be. Add flour mixture and lavender milk alternating between each addition, and mix until batter is just blended, no longer.

Spoon the flowery goodness into your mystery loaf pan and bake for 50 minutes, or until a wooden skewer inserted in center comes out clean. Leave your cake to cool in the pan 5 minutes, then remove to a wire rack to cool. When completely cooled, dust with confectioners’ sugar and garnish with sprigs of fresh or candied lavender. If you don’t know how to candy lavender, then read ahead on the section on candying rose petals and you’ll get the idea. Serve with a dollop of Very Suspicious Crème.

Crème Ingredients:

8 oz. cream cheese

1 Tbsp. heavy cream

½ tsp. fresh chopped lavender flowers

3 Tbsp. confectioners’ sugar

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

Blend the cream cheese with the heavy cream until smooth and fluffy. Add in the lavender, confectioners’ sugar, and vanilla, beating until silky and very suspicious looking. Serve with Teacakes of all sort, but especially highly doubtful ones.

TEA TIPS: When serving tea to your guests, be sure to present a variety of sugars. Piping tiny frosting flowers onto heart-shaped sugar lumps and displaying rock candy sugar in various colours will set your table sparkling! Save some for the rats…

Cyanide Tea Scones with Clotted Cream

Ah, sweet cyanide…what can we say about cyanide? You surely know it’s historical impact as a popular ingredient of both murder and suicide. But did you know that cyanide is derived from almonds? Being my personal flavour, you’ll see a somewhat excessive if not altogether inappropriate use of it in the following recipes. And as for the clotted cream, well, that sounds bad enough. Doesn’t it?

Scone Ingredients:

4 cups all-purpose flour

4 tsp. baking powder

½ cup sugar

1 tsp. salt

8 Tbsp. very cold, unsalted butter, cut into ¼ inch cubes

1 cup milk

6 black teabags of the best quality you can find, I prefer Twinings

2 eggs, beaten

½ tsp. pure almond extract

½ cup sliced almonds

1 Tbsp. cream

¼ cup sugar

¼ cup finely chopped almonds

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400°F. In a chilled glass bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, sugar and salt. Using your fingers if you know what you’re doing or a pastry blender if you don’t, cut in the bits of butter until the crumbly mess is the size of smallish bees. Set the bowl into you refrigerator or out in the snow while you carry on. In a small saucepan, bring milk almost to a boil. Add tea bags, cover, and brew 5 minutes. Remove tea bags and cool. Beat in the eggs, almond extract, and sliced almonds. Gradually add tea mixture to flour mixture, stirring until just combined, no more.

Turn dough out onto a floured baking sheet and pat into a circle. Slice the dough into 16 triangular wedges. Alternately you can use heart shaped baking pans like the one I used here. Either way, brush dough with cream and sprinkle generously with sugar and chopped almonds. Bake 20 minutes or until golden, always best to sit right by the oven the first few times you try out a new recipe just to verify that everything’s going along as it should. Your oven is a unique creature you really should get to know, because no two are alike. Once done, cool scones on a wire rack. Serve with The Asylum’s Own Clotted Cream. Makes 16 scones.

Clotted Cream Ingredients:

½ cup cold heavy cream

3 Tbsp. confectioner’s sugar

½ cup sour cream

¼ tsp. almond extract

In a chilled bowl, beat cream until stiff peaks form, and don’t think you can’t do this by hand, because you can. As the cream begins to stiffen up, sift in the confectioner’s sugar. Gently fold in the sour cream, and almond extract, and voila! Clots galore! Chill until use. This fluffy topping for scones and crumpets is also called “Devonshire Cream,“ but it doesn’t quite have the same ring to it…clots clots clots clotty clots…

Marzipan Leeches & Plague Rats

Yes, more almonds…but that is hardly important when it is merely a delicious modeling tool for some truly gourmet bonbons. Marzipan rats will charm your guests, marzipan leeches will horrify them. Just let them wait until you’ve given them all names…

Ingredients:

1 package (8 oz.) Marzipan (baker’s almond paste, available everywhere)

¼ cup confectioner’s sugar

2 Tbsp. Amaretto liquer

1 tsp. unsweetened cocoa powder

1 thin-tipped paintbrush

To begin with, open your Marzipan and cover it with a damp cloth as it likes to dry out and then what have you got? Next, add a bit of the cocoa powder to a few drops of the liquer and mix it with the paintbrush, experimenting with ratios to achieve a palette of lovely browns that you can use to accent your rats and leeches. Sprinkle some sugar onto your hands and work surface and you’re ready to begin a life-changing adventure!

Leeches:

Leeches can be sculptured in myriad ways, but I will explain my method as a mere example.

Roll a small ball of dough until it becomes a rope, then roll the rope between your hands until it is thinner at one end.

Curl the rope to make your leech, posing him in whatever manner you find suitable, keeping in mind his station and lineage.

Roll two tiny balls of dough for the eyes, and attach them to the top of your leech’s head, then make an indentation within each eye with a very small object.

After waiting at least 30 minutes to let the leeches dry, use your cocoa-liquer mixture to paint stripes and details onto your leech, and place him in a bonbon paper to be displayed proudly in your best leech jar.

Plague Rats:

Roll the rat’s body from a small ball of dough into an oval with one end pointed for the nose.

Roll two little dough bits into ear shapes and press them into the sides of your rat’s head in an appropriate spot.

Roll a thin snake of dough and attach to the rat’s body, curling it over his back for the tail.

Using the wooden end of your paintbrush, make the indentations for the eyes.

After waiting at least 30 minutes to let the rat dry, use your cocoa-liquer mixture to paint shadows and details onto your rat, and place him in a bonbon paper to be displayed proudly on your tea table.

Cucumber Hatred Tea Sandwiches

If revenge is a dish best served cold, then this is the dish they were talking about. The Historical meaning of basil is ‘Hatred’ and these delicate finger sandwiches are loaded with it…who’s cool as a cucumber now?

Ingredients:

8 oz. cream cheese, softened

3 Tbsp. cream

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. black pepper

3 Tbsp. fresh chives, chopped

6 slices wheat bread

6 slices white bread

1 English (seedless) cucumber

1 Bushel of fresh basil leaves (approx. 24)

Beat together the cream cheese and cream until smooth. Add salt, pepper and chives, blending well. Spread 1 slice of wheat bread and one slice of white bread with cream cheese mixture. Arrange a layer of cucumber slices on the wheat bread and top with basil leaves. Place white bread slice on top and smash sandwich down ever so gently with a rolling pin. Trim crusts, and cut into triangles. Repeat with remaining bread to make 24 hate-filled sandwiches.

Rose Petal Poison Sandwiches

Poison? Well, not if you go into your garden and pick yourself some fresh, chemical free petals. Otherwise, you’ll get sick and the sarcasm will be lost…

Ingredients:

6 oz. sweet butter packed in fresh rose petals1 overnight, softened

¼ cup confectioners’ sugar

1 cup fresh, clean rose petals (from your garden, pesticide-free)

½ sliced almonds

12 slices white bread

To assemble one sandwich, spread two slices of bread with rose scented butter. Sift sugar over buttered sides of bread. Arrange a layer of rose petals, followed by a layer of almonds. Top with the other slice of sugared, buttered bread, and press down with rolling pin. Trim crusts and cut into triangles, hearts, rounds to suit your fancy. Sift sugar over sandwiches and top each with a candied rose petal (petals dipped in beaten egg white and rolled in granulated sugar, then dried until crisp). Repeat with remaining ingredients to equal 24 sandwiches.

Royally Mad Tea

A standard British Royal Tea is served with a glass of champagne and one o’ sherry. Call me crazy, but for my Royally Mad Tea, I prefer champagne and absinthe.

#interviews #2007 #2008 #orkus #mad tea party #emilie autumn

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omgsecretsecret · 5 months ago

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I don't want to go !

Pairing : Lee Minho x gn!reader

Genre : fluff ; crack ; a liiiiiittle bit suggestive if you squint

Word count : about 650

Warning : mention of needles (for vaccines) ; making out

Author's note : I know this isn't great but I had fun writing it ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ ; the pics on top are not mine credits to the owners ; lots of love to my sweet @nmn-yty for helping me <3

Prompts : from the list made by @quokkareactions

54. "Get in"

"No"

"Get in"

"No"

"Now"

"Make m..."

"Trust me, love. That's a sentence you don't want to finish."

47. "Why am I on the ground?"

Masterlist || Part 2

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

You hate needles. You have always hated needles, these pointy little things made for injecting some products in your body. No, thank you. So when you checked your health booklet and saw that you need to get three vaccines done, you were not happy. Fortunately (or not), your lovely boyfriend is here to make (force) you to go to the doctor.

Right now you are in front of the car, he is trying to get you in the car but you keep refusing stubbornly. You are not going there.

"Are you serious right now ? You're like a kid ! he groans, getting frustrated.

— And ? I don't want to go ! you protest, crossing your arms indeed like a sulking child.

— But you have to ! he replies before sighing. Come on, just get in.

— No.

— Get in.

— No.

— Now.

— Make m...

— Trust me, love. That's a sentence you don't want to finish."

You raise a brow. You are in a provocative mood right now, and this definitely made you curious about what he would do. So yes, you are going to try it.

"Bet ? Make. Me. you look at him with a smug look and he isn't even surprised.

— Alright, babe." it's all he says before gently pinning you against the car, trapping you between his strong body and the door.

His eyes travel between your lips and your eyes as he inches closer to you. You're confused, but you'd never refuse a kiss to the hottest man on earth which happens to be your boyfriend. If what he plans on doing to make you regret your sentence is kissing you, you're not complaining. He gently cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb, yet he doesn't move closer to connect your lips yet. No, he stays like this, purposely making you wait. He smirks as you start pulling him towards you and finally kisses you.

It's slow at first, just to make you want more as he barely moves his lips. But as you get more and more impatient, he finally starts kissing you as you want. He gently pins you against the car, and you let out a surprised whimper. He kisses you more passionately, knowing how much he affects you. He pushes one of his thick thighs between yours as you close your eyes and grip his shoulder. Everything feels hot as he parts his lips as a request to deepen the kiss. You eagerly open your mouth, letting your tongues meet as he grabs your waist with one hand, the other one holding your wrist. It's all so good, but of course Minho is Minho and it can't last long.

You feel him pulling on your arm and tip you over his shoulder, and the next thing you know you're laying on the floor as he looks down at you with a smirk. You're not hurt though, it just made your butt a little bit sore. He carefully made sure to not just throw you down. But still. What the fuck ?

"Why am I on the ground ? you ask with a mix of confusion and annoyance. We were making out !

— I know, I was there. he replies in an almost mocking voice. I warned you. Now get in the car now."

You pout, not very happy, but choose to behave and get in. He sits next to you in the driver seat, watching you while you refuse to look at him. He chuckles at your sulking, you really are just a cute baby.

"But if you're good while we're with the doctor, maybe I'll let you kiss me as much as you want. Sounds good ? he offers as he turns on the car, making you look at him cautiously.

— Yeah... Okay. you mumble and he laughs again. Don't laugh ! I'm gonna kiss you so much you'll regret offering that. you protest, making him raise a brow.

— Sure."

You may be a little annoying sometimes, but he loves you and you'll always be his baby.

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

Many bisous to @giddyfatherchris

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

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beegalactica · 2 months ago

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How to be an A* Student in 2025

2025 is the year of THE academic comeback, but it's not just a comeback, it's a full academic GLOW UP. The best part about these tips is that this is not meant to be short-term, this is meant to help you create long-term hot girl habits that will help you year after year after year.

Imagine being a student is like training in the gym: if you want to see long-lasting results, you don't go to the gym for a while and then drop off and get lazy, so why do we see studying as a long-term chore, when it's a long-term privilege?

So many people worldwide dream of having an education, but do we really want to waste it all by scrolling on social media and rotting in bed? I don't think so.

Get organised: Get your notes in order. Turn a subject topic into a cheat sheet or revision booklet. Update your notes after each class. Get your homework out of the way as soon as possible. Create a list of all your topics for each class and rate each topic Red/Orange/Green based on how confident you feel - when it's time to study, start with the red topics.

Create a schedule: If you like things being super organised down to the last detail, try time-blocking and schedule specific time slots to complete your tasks. If you like being more flexible and fluid, set subjects to focus on each day and write a rough to-do list (I set one main task per subject). Make sure you do the subjects that you hate more than you do the ones you like, revising is meant to be uncomfortable, that's how you train your brain and overcome challenges.

Stick to it: Use the Pomodoro technique if you struggle to sit down and start. Start on a 5-minute break to train your brain to slowly stop what you're doing and get started. I would recommend 25/5 repetitions but if you're like me and can deep work for hours with full concentration, do what works best for you but do not end up working for hours without breaks or water. Make sure you take breaks to move around, hydrate and rest your brain and eyes.

Just sit down to start: if you really struggle with procrastination, set up all your work, put your phone away, and just stare at your work - that always gets me to start working because I get bored.

Prioritise long-term gains: Top students focus on studying little and often rather than cramming the night before. This can be 1 hour a day for 5 days prepping for a test vs 5 hours the night before. If you have a period where you don't have any tests right then, but you know you have a long-term exam coming forward, why not spend just 15 minutes to make sure your notes are organised? Always think about the big picture. The topic might not be the most important thing right now, but you know it will be important in the final exam, so if you have some downtime, why not make sure you're confident in it?

Work-life balance: Whilst it's good to be an academic weapon, your social life doesn't have to suffer at the same time. This is why scheduling is so important - it helps you utilise your time efficiently, and limit how much time you waste trying to decide what to study, so you can have more time to spend on things you love. Dedicate 1 hour a day to something you love to do and make sure you do it!

Find what works for you: Experiment with different techniques. Just because one technique works for one subject doesn't mean it will work for another. Just because it works for even just one topic doesn't mean it will work for another. Don't be afraid to switch things up and curate your study habits to suit your tastes. Always remember - the only person it has to make sense for is YOU.

Let me know if you would like more tips or a more in-depth explanation about any of these! I am really passionate not only about education but also about how we can all harness it to become well-rounded people. I have also been a straight A/A* student my whole life so I have many tips to share!

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veryinnovative · 1 year ago

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@jegulus-microfic | january 3, prompt: ruthless | word count: 1.422 featuring pornstars jegulus! NSFW

“They’re going off-script, why are they going off-script?” Barty grits out, confined to the sidelines since he’s part of the camera crew and not the main act, one hand firmly gripping the tripod’s handle as the other waves the booklet in front of Evan’s face.

Because Regulus is sprawled out on the bed on his back, his harness and strap-on discarded on the floor, purple rubber still glistening from where it had been seven inches deep inside James moments prior. His thighs are spread wide by the broad palms and pinned to the mattress as his set partner crawls between them, face still flush from exertion and hair in total disarray as a result of Regulus’ constant pulling and shoving.

The position is not a total mystery, no. Regulus had been in the industry for over a year now, a short span of time during which he had climbed the rank listings and breached the top ten, now striving after the top five together with James Potter, arrogantly self-proclaimed oral king by the looks of it, always needing something in his mouth to satisfy him or shut him up, take your pick. The entire set had been arranged by both their managers, going off on tangents about how they have impeccable chemistry on-screen (combined with Regulus’ superb acting abilities). It’s their second time shooting a video together, considering how their first had broken the record just three weeks ago, and neither Pandora nor Lily had wasted a second to get them together in a room again.

“What are you doing?” Regulus hisses as James’ mouth works a burning trail down his chest, tongue laving over the latticework of bruises and the lovebites blooming. He tries very hard not to lean into it, wards off the urge to chase after the hot cavern the ventures dangerously low.

“Going down on you,” James whispers into his stomach, quiet enough for the microphones not to pick up. Even if they did, it could be edited out afterward.

“I was supposed to go down on you, remember?” Regulus retorts, mentally convincing himself he’s only keeping his legs open for the camera. It’s not like he’s been wondering if James’ mouth is the real deal as many others have made it out to be. Not at all.

“I already came and you didn’t, so I’m just returning the favor before we move on,” James mumbles into his thighs, masking the speaking movements of his mouth by kissing the skin.

“You’re wasting your energy.” Then, the little light of Dorcas’ camera across them flickers, indicating it’s Regulus they’re focusing on. He makes a show of letting out a pleased sigh, craning his neck, and throwing back his head so his face can’t be recorded. It allows him to talk. “I don’t feel like cumming, so just let me do my job. Besides, I doubt you could get me off like this anyway.”

Blatant fucking lie. James undoubtedly notices because he stifles a snort into his leg.

“Sure thing, love.”

Regulus’ jaw ticks and he winds his fingers into James’ hair, reprimand ready on the tip of his tongue, dying off into a choked gasp when the flat of a thick, broad tongue runs a long stripe through his folds.

And the thing is, it’s not just his mouth. Because James’ hands wander, alternating between gripping his hips and roaming upwards to flick his nipples, taking them between his forefinger and thumb to stimulate—rub, pull, gently squeeze all the while his tongue dips in and out of him, gathering the wetness there, swallowing it, moaning at the taste, stopping and only letting the hotness of his breath ghost over Regulus’ dripping core. Building anticipation. Teasing. Lips slick and just as swollen as he is, spreading him open wider just so the camera can get a clear-cut image of how James leans in again, thumb pulling up the hood, mouth this time aimed at Regulus’ cock.

James’ tongue is ruthless.

Licking, sucking, humming around Regulus and sending the vibrations roiling through his spine, static shooting into his skull, paralyzing the rest of him. Using his nose for friction if it’s his tongue that’s too occupied fucking in and out of him, thumbs eagerly pressed into the divots of his hips.

“Jesus fucking Chr—” The words pathetically drop in pitch, bleeding into a low whine as Regulus’ hips buck, James’ mouth only following the undulations. He swirls his tongue, pulls him into his mouth, and sucks until the wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth no longer rise above the ringing flooding Regulus’ ears. He moans, fingers pulling onto the thick curls until it leaves James whining between his legs as well. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, indeed,” Barty whispers from to the side. “Holy shit, he’s making it look so real.”

“Am I about to tell you something,” Evan mutters, adjusting the sound settings.

Regulus arches off the bed, writhing in place against the steel hold on his hips, the balls of his feet digging painfully deep into James’ back when he feels the pressure building low in his stomach, pleasure pooling low below his spine.

“I’m not going to cum,” Regulus gasps out, not giving a fuck how loud it comes out. Between his clenched thighs, James chuckles, its rumbling reverberating through each and every one of his nerves as he pulls off his cock with a wet pop.

“Yes, you will,” James answers, kissing his cock before biting into his thigh. “Because I’m going to make you.”

The mouth leaving him punches a little, pitiful sound of protest out of Regulus, one he will most certainly deny and demand be edited out. Though, right now, he’s too strung out to care. Regulus’ eyes droop down, watching how James leaves the little space between his legs, strings of spit and wetness breaking off into the air as he crawls up onto his knees.

Everything moves rather swiftly afterward. The excited noise filling the room might have either been his or Barty’s, but none of it matters when James grabs Regulus by the back of his knees and pins them down, nearly folding him in half before he continues his mouth’s assault, urging the tightening knot low in his abdomen to unravel.

There’s the tongue inside of him, on him, in him, around him—circling, pulling, teasing, drawing out the most guttural of moans when he feels the graze of teeth. The entirety of Regulus swallowed by James’ mouth, consumed with the sort of deprivation only the taste of him can alleviate if the desperate sucking is anything to go by. Regulus’ legs shake, body twitching in place, fingers curled so tightly around handfuls of curls when he chokes out a weak, “I’m not—I’m not going to—”

James groans a muffled command, fingers digging deep into his thighs, the splay of stray strands across his stomach, muscles pulled taut, the fluorescent lightning above, that stupid fucking tongue, the sole bane of his existence—

Regulus cries out a soundless rasp, like his voice has left him together with his soul, entire body convulsing, head thrown back on the arrangement of pillows as his eyes roll back into their sockets.

Worst of all, James doesn’t stop, only grunts in response as Regulus gushes over his tongue, making a dangerous sound stuck low in his throat when the hand on his head tries to push him away.

“Stop,” Regulus squeaks out. Squeaks, because that’s how terribly low he’s fallen. The overstimulation is a lot, pleasure overwhelming like his brain is threatening to come oozing out of his ears, and next thing you know the video will be titled ‘James Potter managed to make exalted Regulus Black cry with his orgasm’.

“Please, please s’too much—” Regulus tries again, almost sobbing out a breath of relief when James does finally lift his head with a gasp, his entire fucking face slick from where it had been buried inside Regulus.

“Fucking hell,” Barty hisses in the back, vocalizing Regulus’ internal monologue. “Cut! Fucking, cut the cameras! Pause! Water! Bring this fucker some water before he passes out—”

A flurry of movement in the background, the noises fading into white noise as Regulus’ legs are lowered back onto the bed. James hovers above him, the spit-slick grin almost blinding, or that’s just the stars blinking in Regulus’ vision.

“You were saying?” James asks, teasingly touching Regulus’ puffy cock, laughing when it rewards him with a full-body shudder.

Regulus weakly wacks him in the chest. “Go fuck… Yourself.”

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #marauders #marauders au #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders fanfiction #this one is also for mil #happy birthday babygirl #hope u enjoy reading this and building the lego flowers #ino microfic tag!

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leafsbabe · 1 year ago

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Vince Dunn- thigh riding (SMUT)

Vince and you had only just started dating when you came up with the idea. The two of you had spent every waking moment going at it like bunnies, so it was no surprise that your Valentine’s Day gift to Vince was something related to sex. Granted, maybe the sexy coupons were a little self serving, but so were the multiple sets of lingerie he had gotten you.

Now, several months later, you had worked your way through most of the little booklet (and more than one pair of lacy nothing). The spark was still very much present, but Vince liked peeling you out of a pair of sweatpants just as much as he liked unwrapping you out of lingerie.

You were camped out on the couch when Vince came home from hanging out with the boys. He looked so good, even if he insisted on wearing shorts in the chilly autumn weather.

You watched as Vince toed off his shoes before he made his way to the couch, lifting up your blanket so that he could crawl in with you. The tip of his nose felt cold against your skin as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“Did you have fun?”

He hummed against your skin before lifting his face so he could look at you.

“I missed you though.”

Vince looked so cute as he said it, rosy cheeks and pretty curls. You wanted to respond and tell him that you missed him, too, but then he shoved his cold hands under your hoodie so you had a few less than sweet words for him.

A little time passed with the two of you laying there. Vince had his hands still buried under your hoodie while yours alternated between combing through his curls and stroking his back. It was a cozy evening for the two of you, and you were half convinced that he had fallen asleep on you when Vince lifted his head again.

“Do you want to use up another coupon this weekend?”

You gave his curls a tug, smiling as he let out a small moan before smiling back.

“We can do that.” Sex with Vince was always fun, but the times you tried new things just stood out. “What do you have in mind?”

There were several coupons left, but it had been a while since you looked over them.

Vince’s smile didn’t leave his lips as he leaned down, letting his mouth ghost over your skin and pressing the softest kiss to your neck. Another one followed, this time against your jawline, before he finally spoke —not in a whisper but in a low tone that you listen closely.

“What’s your fantasy, Bunny?”

He pulled away without kissing you again, but when he saw your pout he relented and leaned back down to kiss it away.

“Need me to get anything for it? Special lube? New toys?” He paused to kiss you again. “A costume for roleplay?”

There had been a certain fantasy in your head when you had written it down. One you hadn’t yet tried even after months of dating. It was a simple fantasy, but something about it just made you feel awkward.

But if Vince could be brave and choose to fulfill a fantasy not knowing what it was, then you could be brave enough not to shy away.

“No, we don’t need any of that. I just need you. And maybe some lube.”

He bit his lip, so wonderfully Vince that you wanted to pull him down and kiss him again, but the look in his eyes made you pause.

“You don’t want to put something in my ass, right?”

“Not until you want to put something in my ass.”

The relieved look on his face lasted for maybe three seconds before his face fell and the pout returned. He’d survive.

You sat up properly and Vince followed. The blanket you had been laying under fell away through the movement, giving you the best view of Vince’s pale thighs where he was spreading them on the couch.

At least you managed to catch yourself staring.

“You’re not allowed to judge, okay?”

Vince nodded, holding up his little finger in front of your face.

“Pinky promise I won’t.”

Instead of linking your pinky with his, you leaned forward and gently bit his finger. He laughed but let you climb into his lap.

“I want to ride your thigh.” You said, sat across both of his legs. Vince looked like he was about to say something so you quickly continued. “And I know it’s selfish, but I promise I’ll get you off right after and you don’t even have to do anything, you can just lay down and let me do the work. It’ll be fun.”

You definitely rambled at the end but you couldn’t help it. You were so nervous for his reaction.

“That’s so hot.”

That wasn’t the reaction you had imagined.

“Fuck, Bunny, please. Yes. Whatever you want.”

Vince’s arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer against him. This also caused your laps to touch, making you gasp when you realized that he was starting to grow harder underneath you. Vince seemed into the idea though, rutting up to seek out the contact. Oh.

“You’re into it?” It felt like a stupid question but you needed to hear him say it.

"Yes. Take off your pants.”

He was already tugging on your waist band, one large hand sliding inside to palm your ass and pull you closer again while he leaned in for a kiss.

Laughing, you pushed against his chest to get some space between you two. “You’re going to have to let me get up if you want me to take them off.”

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of Vince that you realized how fucking beautiful he looked. Wild curls, flushed cheeks, oversized hoodie, and these tiny shorts you wouldn’t even need to push up in order to ride his thigh.

It didn’t take you long to take off your pants and sit down on Vince’s lap again, this time with only one of his thick thighs between yours.

The first touch of your pussy against his bare leg made you moan, the feeling of his warm skin against you nearly enough to make you miss his own moan, echoing yours.

“Fuck, Bunny. You’re so wet.” His voice sounded so fucked out already. Low and needy. So pretty.

You slowly started to move your hips, riding his thigh like you had fantasized about. At first he only looked at you, but it didn’t take long for Vince to start moving, too.

His hands found your hips, your waist, the soft part of your middle. Everywhere and nowhere at once as he pulled and pushed. You moved with him, riding and grinding, getting yourself off on his thigh.

It was almost funny how fast you got yourself worked up, but the feeling of finally getting what you wanted overshadowed it.

Vince leaned up to kiss you while his hands gripped your ass and pulled you harder against him. His hips seemed to move on their own, fucking up to let you feel just how hard he was for you and mindlessly chasing his pleasure not unlike yourself.

The change of angle made you moan but Vince wasn’t deterred, mouth moving from your lips to your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a tender mark within seconds.

“Please, Vinny, please.”

He kept on guiding you, dragging you against his thigh and against his hard bulge, not hard enough to hurt but enough to give you all the friction you needed.

You picked up your pace, riding him like you needed to, not following the rhythm he was trying to set. It was so easy to get lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You barely managed to get your hand into Vince’s curls to pull him up and unto a kiss before you fell apart, still grinding against him, continuing the pressure on your clit.

You didn’t know how long you continued to move —no control over the way your hips rolled against his skin— but at some point the overstimulation stopped and you sat there with shaking thighs, still straddling Vince’s lap. When you looked down you saw it were his hands that were holding you still, the soft surface of his skin between your bodies shiny from your wetness.

Your voice was still shaky when you spoke after what felt like an eternity. “Thank you. That was…” You trailed off, not knowing how to describe the experience.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That.”

Vince and you smiled at each other before both of you laughed, a short sweet giggle that made you want to lean down and kiss him. So you did.

It was only when his hands on your hips tightened that you remembered something.

“Hey, let me…” You tried to reach for his shorts but Vince stopped you.

“You don’t have to.”

“I told you I’d get you back. It’s fine just let me…”

He just chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I’m good. Give me like… ten minutes to recover.”

When you just looked at him he relented. “Maybe fifteen.”

It was only then that you noticed the dark spot on his shorts. At first you assumed it was from you grinding against him but then you realized.

“Did you come in your pants?”

“Did you expect me not to?” One of his hands came up to ruffle through his hair.

That and the look on his face —a perfect combination of bashful and cheeky— just made you clench around his thigh again.

“Fuck, Vinny, that’s so hot.”

“I try.”

You let yourself fall against his chest, cuddling closer when his arms curled around you. At some point he picked up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around the two of you before relaxing back.

“We’re getting you those shorts in every color.” You finally decided.

Vince just pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his head on yours.

“Whatever you want, Bunny.”

#vince dunn #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey smut #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn smut #...so this is twenty-five

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unholyhelbig · 7 months ago

Note

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

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