#what can i say my mother raised a quitter

[tweedfrog]

Pompey's men in book II after he treats them to a 69 verse speech abt the justice of his cause and they respond with awkward silence:

[imasexypotato]

Lucerys: Stop trying to take my eye!

Aemond: What can i say? Mama didn’t raise no quitter

Lucerys: ....Technically your mother didn’t raise you, or your father

Aemond, shocked: ....I-!

Lucerys: Your parents were extremely neglectful and abusive

Aemond: ....

Aemond: Ok I feel really attacked right now!

[theotherrichardpapen]

okay, so anyone who knows me knows well enough by now that i'm more than willing to talk your ear off regarding the relationships both Nigel and Alex have with their fathers. however i've been more or less avoiding taking too much of a deep-dive into the relationship between Nigel and Helen (largely because 1. it means addressing the events at the end of the film which are, less than savoury, shall we say; and 2. because i'm still a firm believer that Greg only threw that ending in there because he needed to drum up some sort of conflict between Nigel and Alex that led to their final confrontation - essentially standing drunk in front of a dart board - and that in terms of narrative, Nigel should have been Alex's maraclea in the end. but i digress). my parents may have raised an idiot but they sure didn't raise a quitter so here i go anyway

moving on from those two issues, the thing that had always bothered me in the beginning was the fact the film has Nigel claim Helen as his maraclea, a title which carries with it an implication of love. and that is a crucial point here; a huge part of the myth rests upon the fact that the girl was loved by the great lord. and we know how important that story is to Nigel! it forms a crucial part of his belief system; it underpins his entire worldview. he wouldn't just hand out that title to anyone who he bore no emotional attachment to, or else it would lose all significance. So Nigel must love his mother in some form or another (whether it be familial or something more; there's enough in the film to imply something else may have been going on between the two but that's up to individual interpretations). how then, if he loves Helen so much, could he be willing to orchestrate her death at the hands of his father?

the answer to that question essentially boiled down to the fact that Nigel simply does not view death the way other people do. It's not a finality to him. Nigel very much so sees death as transformative - what is dead may never die, only through death can one achieve immortality. You can see it with his interest in taxidermy, the idea that something can be preserved forever, and with Alex's admission that Nigel 'got what he wanted' (i.e. eternity) only by taking his own life.

So you have this notion developing that in a way, Nigel sees this as the highest honor he can bestow upon his mother; the greatest gift he can give her. Through death, she'll live forever, and she'll become a part of something much bigger than either of them. A part of something more important to Nigel than anything else.

[fitnesspizzainmydiet]

NEVER SAY NO TO PIZZA AGAIN

Growing up we had pizza at least once a week. My father was born and raised in Brooklyn and man, did he love his pizza. He would call home every Thursday and ask, “did your mother cook?” to which I would always sarcastically reply “of course not, it’s pizza night!” and then he would say “call up Dickie Dees, order a large pie with extra cheese and pepperoni, well done. Tell them ‘Jimmy’ will be there in ten minutes.” Some of my favorite memories with my dad include us either ordering pizza and watching WWE, or stopping at random hole in the wall pizza joints to see what they were about.

I’ll never forget, two weeks after getting my tonsils removed my mother got called into work for an emergency meeting and my father was responsible for feeding my siblings and I dinner that night. Guess what he ordered?

A large, extra cheese and pepperoni pie, well done from Dickie Dee’s in Newark, NJ.

The problem? I couldn’t eat solid foods yet!

Did that stop me? NOPE. My father and I sat there and cut up two slices of pizza into the tiniest, bite size pieces and I chewed them up until they were soft enough to swallow. It may have taken me thirty minutes to eat two slices of pizza, but Dad didn’t raise a quitter 💪🏽

When I decided to start losing weight as an adult, I knew I would never be successful if my meals were limited to baked chicken and broccoli or boring Cesar salads.

That’s when I learned about flexible dieting and calories in VS calories out.

For years, the media has glorified weight pills, surgeries, or overly restrictive diets for weight loss. I’m living proof that you can lose weight without giving up your favorite foods (or getting surgeries that restrict your diet for the rest of your life anyways).

I’ve been counting calories for the last two years, and I’m watching the pounds shed off week by week. I recommend everyone try this method at least once and try to do it for three months to give yourself time to see results.

The first thing you need to do is calculate how many calories you should be consuming. I recommend using this website to do that. These are going to be your maintenance calories. In order to lose weight, you need to be in a calorie deficit (meaning you need to eat less calories than you burn.) If you’re just starting out, I recommend a 3-400 deficit.

So let’s say your maintenance calories are 2400 calories per day. Subtract 400 from that, and you have the amount of calories you should be eating in a deficit, 2000 calories. I like to think about these calories as dollars (bare with me)

So let’s say you have $2000 (or 2000 calories). How you chose to spend those $2000 is completely up to you.

If you have a nice, low calorie breakfast and you want to go to McDonalds for lunch and order a Big Mac with large fries, a large coke and an apple pie go for it. Just remember that you still need to be within the 2000 calorie range in order to see results. So if you had that nice, low calorie breakfast, and then you ordered everything off the dollar menu at McDonalds for lunch, chances are you’re going to have to make some sacrifices and eat that boring old cesar salad for dinner.

It all comes down to calories in VS calories out.

With all that being said, there are plenty of ways you can make some of your favorite meals at home for half the calories without sacrificing flavors. One of the ways I’m able to eat pizza three times a week while losing weight is by making my own at home! As promised in my previous post, I’ll walk you through the recipe and leave the macros below!

Ingredients

1 Cup of self rising flour (this is super important!)

¾ Cup of Non-fat plain Greek yogurt

¼ cup of your favorite pizza sauce (homemade is best!)

56g of low fat or fat free mozzarella cheese

17g of turkey pepperoni (optional)

4g salt

4g garlic powder

Preheat your oven to 420 degrees Fahrenheit. 

Start by adding ¾ cup of your yogurt to a bowl, along with the salt and garlic powder. You can feel free to add whatever seasonings you’d like here, but I feel like the salt and garlic give the dough that classic NYC pizza dough flavor. Add in ¼ cup of flour at a time and stir until combined. If you have a stand mixer, use your dough hook to make this part a little easier on yourself. If not, a wooden spoon is fine! I tend to use a little less than a full cup of flour, but I keep the remaining to the side to sprinkle on the counter while kneading/rolling out the dough.

Once your dough comes together and is still a little tacky, flour your work space and start rolling out that pizza dough to your designed shape and thickness. Place the dough on a nonstick oven safe pan (I got my 10” pizza pans at Big Lots on sale for ten cents!! Check your local discount stores’ sale sections!) and place in your preheated oven for ten to fifteen minutes. It is important to cook the dough before adding any sauce or toppings so it can cook evenly. Once the dough starts to rise a bit, remove from the oven and start adding your toppings.

I like to use homemade sauce because it just taste the best in my opinion, but you can use whatever you’d like! Keep in mind that the calories will differ depending on what brand you use.

Once you have your pizza assembled, place it back into the oven for an additional 10-12 minutes or until the crust is golden brown. I like to spray the crust with a little bit of cooking spray for that beautiful golden brown color!

Take the pizza out of the oven and allow to cool for 3-5 minutes before cutting. Slice your pizza into 6-8 slices and enjoy!

If you follow these instructions to the T, you will have an entire pizza that is only 620calories, 2.3g fat, 102g carbs and 48g protein!

Give this recipe a shot and let me know how you like it!

[cakeinthevoid]

if you're willing to share, id love to hear about your OC flange gusset cowboy extraordinaire (i actually just acquired a few cowboy OCs myself recently)

Oh you have opened the floodgates, but I don't even know where to start... I hope my rambling below will make sense haha...

Flange Gusset, Cowboy Extraordinaire!

...and the closest thing West Hinge has to an engineer.

Flange became an 'official' cowboy as a teenager, about 15 years old, but growing up on the ranch in the budding city of West Hinge, he's been training all his life for it. Genuinely, he's one of the most cowyboy cowboys who ever cowboyed. West Hinge knows his name—often as Gus, or, nowadays, Mr. Gusset, which he always tries to wave off. Everyone knows that he's a dependable lad. He works hard and is always there to help—and he's your guy if you every need a cheap repair or a little thingamajig to make life a little easier.

Family:

His mom is Mexican, so he had plenty of Vaquero stories from her side of the family. While she's proud of the man her Flan Cake (her sweet nickname for Flange <3) became, she will always worry about his safety as a cowboy. She knows the life is hard. Flange sees his mother as the kindest and most generous person in the world, and aspires to be like her.

His dad was an american farmer who didn't raise no quitter!!! He taught him the importance of true courage and loyalty. Flange worked the fields and did repairs around town with his dad growing up, which is where a lot of his most practical skills came from. Flange feels like he could never replace his dad as head of the house. He misses his dad.

He's the oldest sibling, so he knew he needed to get a job asap to help provide for his family. "Inventor" wasn't exactly a career path he could dedicate himself to, so he took up ranching and cattle herding—he took to it like a duck to water! (There's a reason he's one of if not THE top cowboy in the town at his early 20s).

Cowboy Life:

Flange started working for ranch owner Mr. Lewis at 15, doing your typical beginner cowpoke chores. His skills and talents weren't going unnoticed though, and he was quickly rising the ranks, joining the older cowboys on round ups and cattle drives. The other cowboys on the payroll are some of his closest friends.

Cowboying around gives him enough quiet nights during travel and time off to pursue his not-so-secret passion: inventing. He’s come up with plenty of doodads to improve the lives in West Hinge—in addition to doing repairs n stuff. He treasures his simple yet purposeful life, but privately wishes to do good on a greater scale, to invent something truly marvelous… but right now, he has a job to do. 

So he does what he can. He’s no doctor, but he tries to help in other ways. He respects the trades and rolls his eyes at big business. Down right pisses him off when those mega-ranches try to scam or buy out the hardworking little guys.

He adheres to his own cowboy code, which is everything in the unwritten Code of the West and more. He scowls at those who taint the cowboy name, but he won't go picking fights unless the situation is truly dire. He also truly don’t mind most outlaws, unless they’re one of the ransacking and killing types. He would much rather everyone get along and sing by the fire, but he isn't naive.

He's run into enough outlaws and wicked cowboys to know better.

Fun facts!

Flange's #1 horse is a beige and white spotted cutting horse named Chico! He's the cowboy who can ride him best, and thus does the cattle cutting. He's prevented his fair share of stampedes, to say the least.

Flange is scary good at poker. The man never gambles, and seems to hardly know what is going on, but he's never had a bad loss.

Flange can play the harmonica, banjo, and guitar. He's real shit at piano though.

Flange is scared of being well and truly alone. He's also irked by wasps.

~ ~ ~

Oh man this was fun. Yes I got a little carried away and there is still so much I could go on about (realizing I barely spoke on his engineering endeavors) but AAA thank you for this ask <33 I hope you enjoyed

AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

[luvrxbunny]

It like really hurts because I don't have my dad in my life, and I have a little sister I don't even know because we're separated.

Granted my dad was an asshole to my mom and I don't condone any of it. My step-dad who's really my brothers dad but I consider him my step-dad is such a nice person.

He comes out from New York on my birthday, He wishes me a happy birthday and everything.

I love him so much and it's just like, why can't my mom be like that.

And whenever I just give up on school she's always like "Your being a quitter" And "You need to be more like your brother because when I was a kid my mother would never except this."

Well I'm sorry, I'm not my brother! I never will be! Were different human beings!

Than she always blames her actions on her mom, like oh my mom raised me like this and I'm trying not to be like her, but you are Mom!

i'M ALREADY INSECURE BECAUSE HE'S A DIFFERENT SKIN COLOR THAN ME.

Were all black but there lighter skin tones than me so everybody already looks at me like i'm adopted.

Then she always compares me to my dad and it hurts cuz my dad wasn't the best man.

He tried I guess but he wasn't the best. And it hurts so much. I struggle so much already and it hurts when I feel like she doesn't appreciate me like she appreciates my brother.

And I'm crying right now typing this because it hurts so much...

yeah same

SO much tmi under the cut guys and not even the sexy kind

my dad isn’t around either (who’s is?) and my dad was also an ass but like.. i miss having a dad— not him specifically but i’ll see dads just smiling at their daughters and just be in pain at what i don’t and never will have

ur step-dad sounds amazing tho! i wish he could talk to ur mom abt the way she treats you and i HATE when parents compare children, my mom does that and she compares me to a sibling she KNOWS i don’t like so it feels so evil cus i know she’s just trying to upset me.

she also compares me to my dad (she doesn’t do it that much anymore) even though she’s the one who told me all the bad things he’s done and she knows that our family usually says i look like him too which also upsets me

and just like u i’m the darkest out of all my siblings so i feel a bit alienated from them but then on top of that my mom kinda expects me to be a second parent to them? so they don’t even really feel like my siblings anymore, more like some kids i’m in charge of— which is fine now cus i’m 18 but this started back when i was like— 12

aahh this is so much information that no one asked for 🤪

i’m really sorry you’re in the situation, no one should feel like that in their own family. i hope you’re able to find a group of ppl u can call family, or your mother improves her behavior <3

[lazycollectionchaos]

Just an update on how I am doing

I'm just a mess right now, inside me there is such a heavy sadness. My life is empty and my disordered relationship with food is the only aspect of it that brings me any happiness. This is a statement that holds so much irony for this is the tool of self-destruction I use to hurt, ruin, and punish myself. At the same time, it is the "walking cane" of my life, it is what allows me to be productive, to meet the basic requirements of survival. My standards are really low. The slight high I get from successfully completing the goal of not eating is what I label as "happiness", being able to hold my life together enough to be able to afford my living expenses is what I call survival, when in reality what I am doing is slowly ending me. Thankfully for me (or rather not, I am saying this in a sarcastic manner) for the past few days I have been consuming far above my required intake for maintenance. Yes, I have been binge eating. Yes I feel bad. This is my emotional support disorder my good fam. My choices are simple, I either try to fall asleep while thinking about how little worth I have and about how much of a dis*ust*ng in*omp*tent failure I am or I let myself fall into this whole further and that way i can at least force myself into a delusional state where I consider myself to have the potential for worth, the potential to not be ignored by society, the potential to have people see worth in me, the portential to suceed, the potential to be someone. My life is so empty and lacks markers for true happiness to a level where this is all that I have. This is how hollow my life is. In my life I have met a lot of people and made a lot of temporary friends who of course replaced me sooner or later due to how lacking I am in the personality department. At the moment i have one friend, she is kind and a good person, my closest person in a long time and most likely the ony friend I will have for a long long time. I have a mother who does not care for me as a human being or my emotional state, a father I have not spoken to for years (which I do think is a genuienly possitive thing for me), and a sibling that is a child. Other than that, I have maybe 3-4 aquitenance who I may speak to for a few minutes each month. I do not expect others to make me happy and I will not treat them as a means of emotional support. While friendship should be a positive aspect in my life (and with my one friend it is), happiness comes from the inside. Prehaps I will find it one day. In a sense this is my sick attempt to do so. I don't think that reaching a certain scale number will make me happy but the benefits that come along with it should make it easier.

When I was younger I have thought and made plans to end my life artifically and thankfully I never went through that. Right now I am not actively in such a mind set and I plan to stay away from it. Anyways, tomorrow I will be restocking my safe foods and restarting again. Mama didn't raise no quitter. She didn't really raise me, instead she mantianed a pattern of emotional, physical and finicial neglect that left me to be an emotionally stunted adult with no self esteem or expectation to rely on others, who is currently doing the only thing they can do to keep themsleves together in an unhealthy attempt to hopefully one day live a better life.

Hopefully I will regain my power tomorrow. The sooner i get to my UGW, the sooner I think this whole struggle will come to an end. I don't be able to stop untill I'm there.

[elleirbagsstuff]

"Runaway Girl"

Pair: Isabela x Fem!reader

Genre: Romance, fluff, a bit of angst

Summary: Where in Isabela Madrigal also known as Señorita perfecta, gets tired of being perfect and just wanted to live a normal life, escaped their home as while doing so, she met a girl that can probably help her.

This is going to be a series!

Chapter 1:Escaping

Next Chapter: 2

••

"Señorita Perfecta Isabela"

"Most graceful of all the madrigals"

"Our perfect Isabela"

She has heard it all, every compliment every praise you could think of, she doesn't blame them, i mean come on, a face like Isabela's, a graceful move as a swan in the lake, hair soft as you can imagine, who wouldn't want to praise her?

She's not gonna lie, she loves the attention she gets. But she hates the fact that she has a reputation to keep, being perfect. She knows she's not, who in the world is? No one's perfect and as much as she hates to admit, Isabela Madrigal is not prefect.

Her abuela made her think she is, now she has to keep up the act, to impress the people in encanto and to impress her abuela.

And the one way to impress her abuela is to marry a perfect man, and that man is Mariano Gúzman. Let's say he's rich yeah, handsome, kind and overall perfect for Isabela.

But she didn't love him, she didn't love any of the guys that her abuela chose for her, but she had no choice but to agree.. she was doing it for her family. As the eldest cousin, daughter, sister, niece and grandchild. It's her duty.

She doesn't even know how love feels like.. like genuine love, not forced love or forced feelings. She wants to fall inlove, to feel her stomach flutter when she sees the person she loves, to feel her chest about to burst whenever she's with the person she loves, to have corny conversations and pick up lines, to go on multiple and unforgettable dates..

Isabela wants all of that, a kind of love that will make you go "oh my god i love them, i want to be with them forever" a kind of love like her parents. But she'll never get that, as much as she wants to. It's not what her abuela wants.

The proposal with Mariano was ruined by her youngest sister Mirabel, she didn't know if she wanted to thank her or to be mad at her for ruining it. It was all going well..

Her abuela was happy, she's going to make her family proud and then poof! It was all ruined because of her sister!

Her family is now distressed, trying to find Mirabel and also worried about the cracks in their casita, oh their precious casita

Isabela stared outside the balcony of her room, it was getting dark and Isabela realized she had to suffer another day of being 'perfect'. She was tired, she was so tired of it, if only there was a way to escape.

Escape..

Yes! That's right! She could escape their house and go- huh, but where would she go? It's not like Encanto is very big. And what would her family think once they found out she left? And Dolores might hear her escape.

She groaned in frustration as she is stuck on what she could do. But she really need to do this, she had to, she's so sick of it, she needs to do this. For the sake of her, she just wants to be selfish for once and think about herself, not others, not her family, but herself.

So she waited, she waited until it was night time, the time her family goes to sleep, the time where Dolores is fast asleep, so no one can hear her.

She climbed up her window and took one glance at her room. She took a deep breath and jumped, vines catching her so she wouldn't fall straight to the ground.

A sigh of frustration escaped her lips as she didn't know where she would go. I should've thought this through what do i do now?

Isabela can't just go back, she's one step closer on escaping.. or maybe a thousand step closer. One thing's for sure, her mother didn't raise her to be a quitter, so she has to think.. think Isa! Come on, think!

As she was in the middle of thinking, she heard something like a stick snapping as if someone has stepped on it. I'm being watched she thought so she immediately ran straight to the forest not knowing where to go.

"Isa?!" A voice called her out and she recognized it in an instant, it was Mirabel's voice, her youngest sister. Of course she had to know Isabela was escaping, of course she had to ruin everything again. "Isabela?!"

She tried to outrun her sister but her voice was only getting closer, both of them will be in trouble if Dolores woke up. Mirabel was still running to where she thinks her sister is and Isabela is panicking.

Thank god she remembered she had powers and the younger girl didn't so she grew some vines in the near tree and she used that as a ladder to hide up in the tree so Mirabel won't see her.

She got up the tree just in time for Mirabel to be standing on where she was a few seconds ago, she saw Mirabel's confused look. "Isa?! Come on you can't stay in here, you could harm yourself!" She scoffed at her words, of course she knew that, she isn't dumb.

Minutes passed that felt like hours, Mirabel was still searching for her eldest sister, boy was she a tough one for still being out here in the forest.

"Just leave." Isabela whispered, she knows her sister won't hear her that's why she said so. Worried was plastered on Mirabel's face, the sky was getting darker and she hasn't found her sister yet.

She didn't want to leave yet until she found Isabela but it was getting dark and it could be dangerous for both of them if she didn't go home and ask for help. She sighed as she walks away hoping Isabela will be safe.

As soon as Mirabel was out of sight the flower girl decided it was her chance to get down of the tree and decide where she would go. Using her vines as her ladder she got on the ground safely.

Now she was about to flick her hand to make all the vines dissappear when she heard a soft gasp on her side, not knowing what to do, she grabbed the unknown person using her vines.

"AHH-" Before the person could scream any louder, Isabela puts a vine on that persons mouth and she dragged them in front of her.

Isabela got a good look on who it was. It was a girl, strangely it was a unfamiliar girl, she hasn't seen her in encanto, not to mention encanto is a pretty small town.

She was taller than Isabela, her hair was by the shoulder and it was in the color of y/h/c. Her skin color was a little lighter than hers, she was wearing a traditional sumbrero and a ruana on her shirt, and unlike any other girls, she wasn't wearing a skirt, instead she's wearing some pants.

The girls reaction was mixed of shock, confused, scared and amazement at the same time, she can see her clearly because the girl is holding a small lantern, when Isabela was sure that she won't harm her or she has no bad intentions, she lets her go, unwrapping her vines from her.

"Oh... mis.. flores." The girl spoke, still shock, her scared expression was no longer visible, it was replaced with a curious one. "Y-you're one of the madrigals!" The girl shouted, Isabela gave her a confused look, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

"Uhm, yeah i assume that was obvious." The girl was still in shock, this is weird Isabela thought, i know people in encanto adores me but i haven't met someone who looks like it's their first time meeting me.

"Perdóname, i know you're one of the madrigals but.. i don't exactly know who you are..." And this is the part where Isabela got furious. How could one person not know who Isabela Madrigal is. She was about to snap but the girl spoke again. "Lo siento, i'm not from here, but i do visit once a week that's why i know the madrigals."

"Oh.. you're not from here?" The girl nodded, and this is when Isabela came up with a not so brilliant plan that may or may not work, nontheless she needs to try. "I'm Isabela, the eldest grandchild of Alma Madrigal." She reached out her hand for a handshake which the girl gladly accepted with her free hand.

"Ah.. i see. Nice to formally meet you i'm Y/n L/n, uhmm not to sound rude but, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

That's where my plan starts. "This may sound weird but, can i come with you?" Isabela had pleading eyes as she did that, which she rarely does, Y/n eyes were widened at the request of the shorter girl.

"Don't you think you're family wo-"

"Por favor.. i just.. don't want to be around them for awhile." Isabela whispered the last sentence, it was the whole truth but the latter was still not sure on whether she brings Isabela with her.

What if this is a trick. Y/n thought, then again why would she trick her? When the girl literally has everything. Plus Isabela seems really sad and bothered so she agreed.

"Oh.. well. The journey to my hometown is 2 days away.." Y/n mumbled causing Isabela's face to fall. Of course, why did i think my plan would work. Y/n noticed this and decided to say; "buuut, i do have a farm near the mountain, if we leave now.. we'll be there in an hour or so, and you can stay there for the night."

Isabela's face lightens up but it fell when she heard the word 'farm.' She knows what a farm looks like, she has seen some in encanto but she hasn't been in one. Will she like it? Will she be comfortable? Wait, is this decision right? Is she gonna regret it?

"Lead the way then."

••

Chapter 1 is up! I'll try to post the second chapter this Sunday, if not then maybe next Sunday.

Have a nice weekend!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

okay so weird question, but theoretically could you create a puppet that goes on the penis that functions as both a puppet and a condom that is safe to put inside the human body? asking for a friend and the friend is three people in a group chat

hi Kai, first I just need to make sure you know that this was deeply distressing for me to read. but while I wouldn't go so far as to say that my mother didn't raise a quitter, she did raise a freaky little man with a morbid sense of curiosity and a love of the hypothetical, so I really can't pass this one up.

first, we have to define what we're talking about when we say "puppet." in the broadest sense of the word, a puppet is any representative construct that can be manipulated by the hands or other body parts. certainly one could take a sharpie, draw a little face directly into a condom, and call it a crude sort of puppet. on many levels, such a thing would not be meaningfully different than forming a puppet by pulling a sock over one's hand.

now, if you want something more elaborate, you're going to have a considerably harder time. nothing worthy of Jim Henson is going to easily enter a human body, certainly not in the capacity you're describing. if you were to, say, build a full-sized fuck puppet complete with functional dildo-wrapped condom that would certainly be your prerogative, but again, I don't think that's quite what you're asking for here, since you specifically requested something that could go on the penis.

I guess there's the question of turning the penis itself into a puppet and having a third party stand about the penis-haver in question to control their dick with strings, but that seems like it's not very sexy. well, okay, that's sexy to somebody, actually. I know that. someone just read that and discovered a fetish. but it's going to be pretty impractical for actual fucking, I'll tell you that right now. even if someone else is pulling the penis strings, as it were, you'll still need the person actually attached to the appendage to thrust if you want to get anywhere. I guess you could put the receptive partner on top to handle that, but at that point what's the point of the penis puppetry anyway?

I suppose the most reasonable (a word that is admittedly being stretched pretty thin here) option would be taking an ordinary latex condom and maybe giving it a few simple accessories made out of flexible, waterproof, body safe materials. could be a fun little arts & craftsy date night, if you have a partner who's extremely open-minded about what enters their orifices and down for a bit of a sexy disaster. I will say preemptively that I wouldn't expect that puppet to last beyond one use, and that it would best be utilized with a secondary form of birth control if the partner being penetrated is someone who can get pregnant - I have some major concerns about how well the integrity of the condom would hold up to getting puppetized.

in conclusion, I think this is hugely inadvisable and probably not possible to achieve in a way that's particularly functional, but could be alright for a laugh as long as proper precautions were taken.

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Mention This To Anyone - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader (SMUT)

Request: Hi can u do a luke x reader smut with an enemies to lovers storyline? Maybe they’re at a party and they’re playing truth or dare and luke and the reader get dared to play too hot to handle and later on at the party they get drunk and hook up? // can you do rough sex with luke?!! // Can u do a luke x reader enemies to lovers smut? //  Would you make a Luke and Y/N smut and just make it whatever you want but super smutty?

Word Count: 2163 words

Summary: Your best friend Julie invites you and Flynn to come over to hang out with her bandmates, and a game of too hot to handle ends up making you re-evaluate your relationship with Luke Patterson

Warnings: swearing, mention of underage drinking, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, dirty talk, grinding/groping

A/N: hopefully this makes sense, i’m editing it half asleep lol  i’ve also put together a masterlist which you can find here anyways hope you enjoy :) 

You should have said no when Julie batted her eyes and asked you if you wanted to come hang out with her bandmates after school one Friday night. 

You should have said no when she used alcohol as a bribing tactic to get you to come. 

You should have made up an excuse not to go. 

Don’t get the wrong impression, you loved Alex and Reggie. The two boys had become close friends of yours since the day Julie first introduced them to you and Flynn. 

It was Luke Patterson that you had an issue with. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms and the lead pain in your ass since the minute you met. 

If you had said no to coming you wouldn’t have been in this situation. 

Staring down at the bottle on the floor after you drunkenly agreed to a game of Too Hot to Handle, watching as the bottle slowly stopped and pointed at the one person you were praying it wouldn’t. 

Luke fucking Patterson. 

“Oh fuck no.” You exclaimed loudly. Luke shook his head. 

“No way. Not doing it.” He said, his tone matching yours. 

“You have to, the bottle chose you.” Reggie grinned. You rolled your eyes. 

“The bottle doesn’t know what it’s doing.” You spat. 

“It’s simple, if you don’t want to do it that bad just give in straight away.” Flynn raised an eyebrow, looking between yourself and Luke. 

“I’m not a quitter, Y/L/N can give up.” Luke said. Your eyes narrowed. 

“What makes you think I’m a quitter Patterson.” You stared at the boy across from you, venom in your eyes. 

“There’s only one way to settle this then.” Julie spoke up after a moment of silence. 

“Play the fucking game.” Alex finished, his head resting on Willie’s shoulder. 

You rolled your eyes, standing up and making your way over to Luke. You knelt down in front of him, glaring at him. 

“I still hate your fucking guts.” You told him. He smirked. 

“The feeling’s mutual princess.” His tone was condescending. 

You placed your hand on his thigh, leaning in and sucking on his neck. He scoffed. 

“Is that all you’ve got Y/L/N?” He teased. 

You pulled away, glaring at him again before moving your hand up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

You held back a scowl, frustrated that Luke was so good at this game. Standing up you sat down in his lap, grinding your ass into his dick. You grabbed his hand and placed it onto one of your boobs, and your friends whistled at the scene. 

Luke fake yawned and this time you couldn’t help but scowl. 

“Are you fucking kidding? Nothing? Maybe Carrie is right and you are in love with Reggie.” You said, and Reggie choked on his drink. 

“Guess you’re not as seductive as you thought, sweetheart.” Luke teased, ignoring the comment about Reggie. You moved again so that you were straddling his hips, and you could feel that his dick was slightly hard in his pants. Motivated by this you started rocking back and forth, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure shooting through your body. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t be watching this.” Flynn joked, covering Julie’s eyes with one hand and Reggie’s with her other.

“You guys were the ones who wanted this.” You reminded them, stopping and looking Luke in the eyes. You had always known that Luke was an attractive guy, his arrogance often outshining his good looks, but up close he was stunning. You hesitated and he smiled, glancing down at your lips. Your heart started to race and you mentally kicked yourself. 

This was Luke Patterson, the same boy who you had hated ever since Julie had first introduced him to you. 

The boy who was so self centered he couldn’t handle things not being about him.

The boy who you fought with every single time you saw him. 

He lent closer and you froze. Was he going to kiss you? 

“I- I give up.” You stuttered, jumping out of his lap and rushing back to your spot. 

“I knew you’d chicken out.” Luke sung, a smug look on his face. 

You were silent, and Luke’s cocky grin fell, concern flicking through his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Hey Julie, it’s getting late, everyone needs to go home.” Ray said, stepping into the studio and you stood up quickly, rushing to grab your bag as the others stood up slowly. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay the night Y/N?” Julie asked as you flung your bag onto your back. You nodded.

“Yeah I’m sure, my mum would kill me.” You said, and she nodded understandingly. 

“Can I walk you home?” Luke blurted out, and everyone turned to look at him in shock. He shrugged. 

“What? I may hate her guts but I still don’t want her to be murdered on the way home.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

“No it’s fine, my house is just around the corner, Alex or Reggie can walk me.” You replied, glancing at your two friends. 

“Yeah I can-” Reggie stopped, noticing the glare that Luke was shooting him. “Actually sorry Y/N, I really have to get home quickly before my parents realise I was gone.” 

“Alex?” You tried. The blond boy shook his head. 

“Sorry babe, Willie and I are heading in the complete opposite direction.” Alex shot you a sympathetic look. You sighed, turning your attention to Luke. 

“Fine, let’s go Patterson.” You said, giving in. 

Luke followed behind you as you left the garage and headed out onto the street, walking in silence for a few minutes before you decided to speak up.

“So what’s your motive?” You asked. Luke frowned.

“My what?” He asked.

“Why are you walking me home? You said yourself you hate my guts.” 

“Can’t I just be a good friend?” He tried. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re not friends.” You reminded him. He shrugged as you turned heading down your street.

“Okay.” He replied simply. You stopped in front of your house, spinning on your heels to look at him.

“So?” You questioned. He hesitated, his normally confident aura gone. He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, instead taking a step towards you. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the lust in his eyes.

“Luke.” You muttered quietly, and suddenly your back was pressed against the front wall of your house, his lips on yours.

Your brain short circuited. No one had ever kissed you with that much passion before.

You kissed him back with just as much force, the lust and alcohol clouding your better judgement.

He pulled away to take a breath and you wordlessly grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards your front door. You reached into your bag to find your keys, Luke’s lips on your neck sucking hard enough that you were definitely going to have a few marks to cover in the morning. You got the door unlocked and you kicked it open, spinning around to capture Luke’s lips with your own again, kissing him as you dragged him into your house.

“Are your family home?” He questioned breathlessly as he pulled away. You nodded.

“Just mum.” You told him as you lead him up the stairs, him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “But she doesn’t care if I bring people home to fuck as long as we’re safe.”

You reached your bedroom door and opened it, shoving Luke inside before shutting and locking the door behind you.

He roughly shoved you against the door, lips connecting once more in a passionate kiss full of tongues and roaming hands.

You kicked off your shoes and began to strip down, your lips never once leaving his, and he did he same. You briefly pulled apart for him to remove his shirt, but once it was off his lips were back on yours again.

“Fuck.” He groaned, as your naked bodies pressed against each other.

“Speaking of, can you please?” You teased, pushing off the wall and placing your hands on his shoulders, leading him to your bed.

You gave him a light shove so that he fell backwards, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, almost moaning at the feeling of his hard dick slipping between your folds.

“God Y/L/N.” Luke groaned as you began to move your hips, grinding into his boner.

“Shut up.” You told him.

He flipped you over, pinning you against your bed, his hand coming up to grab at your neck, choking you slightly.

You moaned loudly, not even caring that your mother might hear. She’d know in the morning by the marks littering your body.

“You like that? You like it when I choke you?” Luke questioned, placing a bit more pressure on your neck but not enough to hurt you or constrict your airways. 

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned in response.

“Of course you do, you dirty little whore.” His words made you even wetter, hips bucking up for some kind of contact.

“Patterson please just fuck me.” You groaned. He smirked.

“If you say so.” He sat up, hands running down your sides, before hesitating slightly.

“Do you have...” He paused, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Are you clean?” You questioned. He nodded. “Me too. Just fuck me.”

“But what about-” He started.

“I’m on the pill.” You cut him off. “Please Luke.”

He smirked.

“I think you need to beg a bit more.” He teased. 

“Fuck me right now or you’ll be jerking off in the street alone.” You threatened.

“Jesus princess, no need to be so pushy.” He said as he lined up his dick with your hole, pushing in roughly causing you to gasp.

“Fuck.” You exclaimed. He barely gave you time to adjust before he was pounding into you again, causing the both of you to swear loudly.

“Again.” You stuttered out, and he obeyed, slamming into you again.

“That feels so good.” You groaned.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, repeating his actions to see your reaction.

“Yes you cocky bastard.” You spat, and he grinned.

“Fuck you.” He said.

“Please.” You bit back. He grinned, before beginning to thrust hard, creating a rhythm. His hand went back to your throat again, pressing down causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck if you keep this up I won’t last.” You groaned. He bit his lip as he continued to pound into you.

“Me neither.” He admitted. He sped up his pace, the room filled with the sounds of slapping skin and your breathless moans.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, and you felt the familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

“Me too.” You said. He glanced at you, seemingly hesitant to say something.

“What?” You questioned.

He bit his lip.

“Could you... tell me that I’m doing good?” He questioned, somewhat shyly.

“You have a praise kink?” You asked.

“Maybe...” He replied quietly.

“God Luke this feels so good. You feel so good.” You moaned, smirking at his reaction.

“Okay yes, I have a praise kink.” He admitted, squeezing your throat slightly as a warning not to tease him. You gasped.

“Yes Luke. So good.” You praised, and he moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna cum.” He said between moans.

“Ugh yes, fill me with your hot cum like the good boy you are.” You moaned, and he came undone, hips stuttering as he came inside you. The feeling of his cum coating your insides was enough to set you off too, your walls clenching around him as you came hard.

“I hate you.” You moaned.

“I hate you more.” He replied breathily.

You rode out your highs together and he pulled out, flopping down next to you.

“Mind if I stay the night?” He asked softly. You hesitated.

“No, I don’t mind.” You eventually decided. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you, his hair stuck to his head with sweat, and you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t hate Luke Patterson as much as you thought you did.

You forced yourself to get up and clean off in the bathroom before climbing back into bed still naked with Luke.

He snuggled into your side and you pressed a soft kiss to his head, an oddly intimate gesture to someone you had claimed to hate up until an hour or so ago.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Luke whispered softly, his voice full of sleep.

“Goodnight Luke.” You replied, and with that the two of you drifted off to sleep, until the next morning when a shout woke you from your slumber.

“Oh my god did you two fuck?” Alex’s voice startled you, and you groaned, pulling the covers up over your head.

You were never going to live this one down.

[supercorpkid]

Under Pressure.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.

Word count: 2340.

“You have to pay more attention!” Kara says landing in the backyard. You make an annoyed sound, landing right next to her.

“I was paying attention.” You throw your hands up. You’ve been hearing this for five minutes now and you’re done.

“And still you nearly dropped it.” She follows you inside the house, and you make your way to the kitchen trying to lose her. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, momma. I’m listening. I have super hearing, so-”

“Ok, don’t be funny. You wanted to join more Supergirl missions and I went against my own principle of waiting until you’re 18, and then you almost dropped the most fundamental thing for our mission.”

“But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?” You huff, upset.

“I can’t bring you to missions if you’re not going to take it seriously.” Oh, so that’s her point. You should’ve known it was too good to be true. Lena said it was ok if you still went supering with Kara, but you know, deep inside, that wasn’t exactly how she was feeling about this. You know Kara, you know when she doesn’t actually mean something. And this is her not meaning a word she is saying to you.

“I call bullshit!”

“LANGUAGE!” She interrupts and you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t nearly drop it. I was paying attention the entire time and I can recite the entire conversation beginning to end. Besides-” You shrug. “Had I dropped it, I would be able to fix it on the spot, because I made it myself.” You look at her, crossing your arms. “So, why can’t you bring me to missions? The truth, Kara Danvers. Remember that we don’t do lies in this house.” You dare, earning a sigh from her instead of an actual answer.

“I guess you can still come.”

“Wow, don’t look so excited!” She doesn’t. She looks the opposite. Like she thought that her speech would work and she didn’t expect you to bite back. “And you didn’t answer the question, anyways.”

“There’s no reason-” Kara starts, but stops when you raise an eyebrow at her. “Ok, fine. Your mom thinks you need to focus more on other stuff.”

“Of course she does.” You narrow your eyes at Kara, looking deep inside hers. “What do you think I should do?”

“Focus on other-I-I think-” That’s how she leaves the sentence and you turn around, grabbing water and making your way to your bedroom. Before you leave the kitchen, though, you look behind with a sad smile.

“I won’t bother you with my presence anymore.” She tries to argue, but you’re too far away, and you pretend you can’t hear her.

You knew it. Lena tried to play it cool about you getting a bad grade, but you know her, you know Luthors. It’s not that easy and it’s not that simple. They don’t fail, they don’t raise quitters, they don’t accept nothing less than 100% at all times (or more).

Lucky for you, you had never failed anything before. But now, Lena’s true colors are shining and you can expect much more fire power coming. And you are correct.

“Um, what are you doing?” Lena asks, when she opens your bedroom door, and you look up from the game you’re playing on your videogame. You don’t answer, because it’s pretty obvious, you just blink at her, for her to go on. “Shouldn’t you be studying? Kara said you went on a mission with her this afternoon.”

“Yes, I did.” You agree, pausing the game, to look at her properly. “But it was earlier today and I already did all of my homework, and worked on a robotics project I had, so-” You show her the videogame.

“Great.” Except that she doesn’t look convinced. “Aren’t you grounded?”

“Yeah?” You ask, confused.

“Game.” She shows you her hand and you breathe deep placing your videogame on her hand. “If you have time to play, you have time to clean your bedroom.” She is almost closing the door, when she opens again and looks at you. “Dinner in 20, bedroom cleaned before it.”

You don’t answer, so she closes the door and you shuffle around in bed, upset. Too good to be true. You should’ve known.

The week goes on as you were expecting to. Everywhere you look, there’s Lena Luthor. It’s been getting kind of hard to ignore her constant presence. Now the great mother Luthor is back again and man, how you hate the great mother Luthor.

“Remember-” It’s Wednesday, she is dropping you off at school, and she doesn’t even have to say the words for you to know what’s coming after. You heard this every day this week.

“Focus your attention on your teacher’s voice.” You mimic her voice, and she looks at you, taking her eyes off the road.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asks, annoyed, and you roll your eyes, looking to the other side. “Because I don’t think is funny nor-”

“The car.” You say, pointing to the front, where the car in front of yours just stopped.

“Appropriate for you to be making-” She goes on like she can’t hear you.

“The car!” You say a little louder. “The car stopped!”

But it’s too late for her to stop now, and she’s definitely going to bump into the back of the car, whether she hits the brakes or doesn’t. You fly out the window and pick up her car, flying away with it. You land on an empty street behind your school, putting the car back on the ground. You open the door to pick up your backpack, throwing it over your shoulder.

“I get it. I can’t get distracted.” You wink, with a little bitch grin, and make your way to the school, leaving a trembling Lena Luthor behind.

You think that maybe that’s going to make her realize she’s being a little too harsh on you, but things don’t get better.

“What are you making?” Lena asks, going inside your lab on Thursday, and you look up from your prototype. Her voice is already accusatory, like you should be doing anything else, except what you’re doing right now, even though she doesn’t know what it is yet.

“Um, a solar battery for my-”

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” She asks and your face drops. Nothing has changed.

“This is studying.” You point to your book in front of you. “And I get extra points if I do it right and it works on the school’ scoreboard.”

Lena looks a little lost at the realization you’re not just playing around like she thought you were. She sighs, like she always does when she feels defeated, and agrees with her head, coming closer.

“You should change the resistor for it to have more power.” She points at it, and you look up, staring at her with a confused expression.

“I used the 4.7K, it should be enough for the scoreboard.”

“If you use the 100K you’ll have more power.”

“Mom, 100K is enough to power our house, I think I can make it work with the 4.7 just fine, if I just-”

“Fine.” She interrupts, making her way to the door. “Do it however you like it. But don’t blame me if you don’t get the extra points that you’re looking for.”

You hung your head low, thinking this feels a lot like you imagine living with Lillian Luthor would be like. The constant pressure, the picking on every detail of everything that you do. Lena leaves your lab and you put your head down on the table, feeling the tears coming. You shouldn’t feel so bad that she’s pushing you so much, but this feels harder and harder the more that you think about it, because she was never this tough on you until you got your first bad grade.

So, when Friday comes you pretty much had it with her breathing down your neck, and her aggressive attitude for absolutely no reason.

“I hope that’s homework.” She says, late at night, when she comes into the kitchen and sees you and Kara looking at something, and giggling together. It’s Friday night, she can’t possibly be serious right now.

“OH MY GOD, WILL YOU STOP?” You yell, and your eyes widen when you notice what you just did. You yelled, but yet you wish she somehow hadn’t heard you.

“Excuse me?” Lena raises her eyebrows at you. She heard you. Of course she heard you.

“I’m sorry I yelled, but God! You need to back off a little.” You regret saying that too, because her eyes are shooting daggers at you and you know you’re in deep trouble. It doesn’t really help either that Kara is looking shocked, mouth agape and wide eyes next to you.

“Do you want to repeat that?” Lena asks, giving you a way out. You should take it.

“I do not.” See. A lot easier. Except. Except the words are still fighting on your mind and you’re trying very hard to hold them back, but you just blurt out, instead. “Because I’m sure you heard me.”

Oh no. What the fuck are you doing?

Kara sucks on her breath, and you know she won’t protect you from whatever avalanche of words that are coming, because you brought this on yourself.

“You must be mistaking me for someone else.” Lena steps in a little closer. “Because I don’t believe you would be insane enough to disrespect me like this.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be disrespectful.” You say, trying to calm her and yourself down. “I really don’t, but you said you weren’t mad about my grade, but you’ve been acting like you are. And then you said I could go supering with momma, but told her she had shut me down.”

“I did no such thing.” She defends herself looking at Kara, who just looks down trying to ignore her look.

“Look, I-I get it. You think that I’m a failure.” You bite your cheek, trying not to cry when you say this. “And maybe I am, because I got a bad grade, but-”

“You are not a failure.” She stops before you go on.

“Well, that’s how you’re making me feel.” You breathe out deep. “It’s too much pressure. I don’t understand what I have done to deserve that. I got a bad grade, and that’s it. I know we’re Luthors and Luthors don’t fail, but-but I told I’ll do better next time and you believed me. Why don’t you anymore?”

You feel Kara’s hand holding your knee under the table. It’s her way of saying that she’s got you, even though she’s definitely not going to say anything. It doesn’t matter, you feel supported, anyways.

“I believe you.” Lena says, pulling the chair in front of you, and she sits down with a sigh. “I just want to make sure you’re doing your best in every area of your life, baby.”

“And you think that bossing me around is going to help that?” You’re still trying to hold back the tears, but it’s harder when the next phrase goes out your mouth. “FYI, this is the first time you called me baby all week.”

Lena looks a little lost. Like she hadn’t really noticed she was being this stern with you. You clean a tear that is running down your face, and feel another squeeze on your leg. You look at Kara giving her a thankful smile.

“I agree that I shouldn’t be listening to you while I was taking a test, but I got an F in French, and still managed to help you with your experiment. So, why can’t that be a win? A tiny little ‘let’s not drive our kid to madness’ kind of win?” You breathe deep, putting one hand under the table, and holding Kara’s. She is there. She supports you.

“Ok.” Lena finally lets out, after what it feels like minutes. “Ok, yeah. I’ve been acting a little too severe for my own liking too.” You agree with your head. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re a failure because you got a bad grade. And, you’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“Not only at school.” Kara adds, earning an agreeable look from Lena. She holds your hand up, and kisses it with a smile. “You know, failing it’s not about not making mistakes. But rather stop trying. Failure is just a price to pay for success.”

“Wow.” You look at Kara with teary eyes, but a playful smile on your lips. “Where did you read that?”

“Shut up.” She jokes pushing your shoulder with hers.

“Well, even though Kara clearly just quoted someone…” Lena also jokes, making Kara stick her tongue out, in a very childish attempt to defend herself. “She’s right. I don’t want you to think you have to be right and successful all the time. What I want is for you to never stop trying to be better than you were before.”

“I can do that.” You agree with your head to make your point. “If you just let me breathe a little.”

“I can do that.” Lena parrots, and you smile a little. She calls you with her hand and you let go of Kara’s hand, rounding the table and going to her. She pulls you into her lap and hugs you tight. “I love you, babygirl. You’re not and never will be a failure to me, ok?”

“Promise?” You beg, and she kisses your forehead whispering softly onto it.

“I promise.”

And it’s not like they’re never going to pressure you to be better again. You know that this will probably happen at times. You belong to a family of heroes. Super or not. Your best is different from everyone else’s best. You were always aware of this fact, and nothing is going to change that. But you will get better with dealing with this and hopefully they will too.

Notes:

Thanks @youngjusticeimaginesus for this prompt. I hope you enjoy it :)

[sylverstorms]

Donna x Elena ----From Winter to Spring

This is a commission written for the lovely @saltwatereulogies and I cannot thank you enough for all your support! I hope you enjoy the story :)

She doesn’t know how she escaped that nightmarish inferno. How she still draws breath. Why her body keeps running despite its condition and despite the fact that she has lost everything.

The village is gone. Everyone she knew is either dead or a monster. She watched her own father growl like a beast and cleave a woman in half, then soon after wail out her name and succumb to the flames swallowing up the building. There is nothing left. There is nothing left for her.

Why? Elena wonders. A trail of blood marks her path through the snow, towards the unknown. Why still fight?

It will be easier to surrender to the agonizing burns, to the open gashes and wood splinters stuck in her skin. It will be far, far simpler to stop pressuring her rattling lungs to provide oxygen and fall into the snow, instead. It looks… peaceful. Soft. Pure.

It will welcome her to a quiet death, she thinks, so she may join her friends and her father.

Her father. The man who had never reached his hand out to help her when she fell –either on the fields or when she tripped over hardships— yet had always been there in his own stubborn, strict way, telling her to pick herself up.

“I didn’t raise no quitter.”

Ah, is that why.

Perhaps part of her feels it owes it to him to try. She did miraculously survive the fiery wreckage she’d initially thought would be her grave. But… the odds just aren’t with her.

Elena is only human. She’s lost too much blood, been through too much punishment. Her vision is growing blurrier by the second, her legs more sluggish. When she steps on grass instead of snow, she believes her mind is now playing tricks on her, too.

Something smells sweet, like wildflowers.

That is the last thing Elena is aware of, before she drops to her knees and blacks out.

-

-

When she blinks her eyes open, she is… confused.

She never thought heaven nor hell would have a wooden ceiling. She wouldn’t have guessed pain follows one into the afterlife, either, yet there she is, prone and throbbing with every weak breath on a bed too comfortable to be her own.

Unless…

Unless she’s not dead. Unless, against all odds, she survived a second time only to suffer some more. Elena wants to cry. What cruel game is the universe playing with her? The luck she never had in life is suddenly gracing her in extreme bursts now that she doesn’twant it.

“She’s awakeeee!” an overly excited voice exclaims somewhere around the room. Elena is too dizzy to tell.

“Shh.” A second presence makes itself known, calming the first.

“Who…” Who are you, Elena tries to say, but the words never make it past her dry throat.

Heels tap against the floor, until a black-clad figure comes to peer down at her. Elena expected to see the face of her savior, yet all she sees is a ghost, its visage hidden behind a mourning veil. The image is jarring; it sends her heartbeat skyrocketing, which doesn’t help her condition.

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord what… Elena wants to tell herself she’s dreaming. It isn’t real, none of this is real—

Until a doll jumps into the edge of her bed and says something she doesn’t hear over the sound of her hoarse scream.

The ghost flinches backwards as the world turns dark once more.

-

-

The second time she opens her eyes, hours or days later, the pain has subsided somewhat.

Elena can feel her body, at least. All the wounded parts are carefully wrapped in gauzes and all her burns are covered by a soothing salve. Her lungs no longer hiss when she inhales, so long as she does so slowly, evenly.

That, of course, is not so easy to do when she turns to her left and sees the ghost sitting there, an open book in her lap. The veil is still on, obscuring her features, but Elena takes note of her fingers as they cradle the spine of the tome, long and pale, manicured black.

Appearances aside, there is a certain calm about her that doesn’t feel threatening.

“I… I’m not hallucinating, am I?” she whispers, not trusting her voice to go any higher.

The mystery woman tenses as though her voice has startled her. “…No.” she eventually replies. Her voice is quiet, like the rest of her.

“Did… you save me…?” A single nod is all she gets in return. Her company doesn’t seem very comfortable speaking, but Elena has questions that she needs answered. “Where am I?”

“The Beneviento estate.”

Elena would gasp if she could. I made it that far? And this woman… is she really Donna Beneviento? Her father told her all she needed to know about the four Lords residing at the outskirts of the village. He had also told her to avoid them at all costs.

“Um. I’m Elena—” A cough cuts her off. The sudden motion causes every injury across her body to burn.

“…I know.”

She is too much pain, in that moment, to ask how Donna knows.

-

-

In the following days, Elena comes to accept a few things that would have normally made her question her sanity;

The doll is alive. Her name is Angie and she is Donna’s friend. Donna is the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, who, upon the former’s request, has given her permission for Elena to remain in the mansion. When she asked what would have happened had she denied, the doll only sing-songed that she doesn’t really want to know.

It still plagues her mind, probably because she has far too much time to think and this is the only thing she can focus on, lest she starts crying over and over again.

When Donna comes to change her bandages, it is a relief.

The woman sits at the edge of her bed, at the absolute maximum distance. Elena slowly brings her body to a semi-reclining position to assist. Angie hops on the bed and pulls the covers to the side… and that is when they arrive to a standstill. Donna doesn’t move, Elena doesn’t know what to do.

“Um. May I?” the veiled woman motions with her –admittedly very elegant— hands. It’s… endearing, how she approaches the subject of touching her.

Elena nods and tries to be a good patient for her. Tries being the key word. When she’s not fighting for her life, she is not nearly as brave in the face of pain. Her teeth are gritted as Donna’s cool hands unwrap the gauzes at her right arm, her eyes closed, breath held.

“…Am I hurting you?” Donna asks, quiet as ever.

“No.” Elena forces herself to exhale. “No, you’re… very gentle.”

Donna nods and continues with the same measured movements. Elena doesn’t want to look at her wounds, afraid of what she’ll find there, so she turns to the veiled visage of her companion. She wishes she could see her face. Wonders what she may look like, what flaw she’s trying to hide.

Until a bandage catches on a particularly bad burn and Elena cries out.

Her whole body jumps—

Donna’s hands fly to her shoulders, keeping her steady with surprising strength, yet she steps away the very next second as though she’s been scorched.

Elena bites her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. There you go, making her uncomfortable…

Angie takes over for a while, also quite precise. Elena peeks down to realize she isn’t in as terrible a condition as she may have imagined. Scars will be left, no doubt, but she will probably heal well enough.

Then the last difficult spot comes up. She knows it when Angie warns: “You need to stay still here.”

“No, no wait!” Elena pleads. “I—I can’t.” I can’t, I can’t deal with this again, not again—

But Donna sits back next to her and her mere presence calms her down. “You are very strong, Elena. This is the last one.” she says.

“Hold me down.” Elena requests.

Donna doesn’t seem to like the idea. Still, she slowly brings her hand back over the uninjured part of Elena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” she whispers.

“On three.” Angie says. “One… Two…”

She pulls the bandage on two and Elena would jump high enough to burst through the ceiling if it wasn’t for Donna. When the agony subsidies she realizes she’s sobbing helplessly, clutching at the dollmaker’s sleeves for dear life.

“Shh, I’m sorry, it’s over now. It’s over.” Donna’s slender fingers comb through her unruly hair.

The brunette closes her eyes and lets her head drop back down into her pillow, but she doesn’t let go of the dollmaker right away. She smells like the flowers outside her house,she thinks.

She feels like a safe space, steady, in a world that’s broken and tilted for Elena.

-

-

Gradually, Donna talks to her more. Gradually, Elena tests her body’s limits until she is strong enough to walk around the house on her own.

Angie is with her, most of the time, but she knows it’s less a security measure and more one for her safety. Her mental connection to Donna is something Elena cannot grasp nor understand, but she tries to.

The first time she manages to get to the living room, Elena stops and stares at the painting of Donna adorning the wall opposite her.

“…is that her?” she asks Angie.

“Of course!” the doll replies excitedly. “I am so proud of that one, the artist did a great job! Mistress Donna looks splendid, but it is me who steals the show!”

Elena can’t look away from the canvas. Why is she so familiar…? “Is that what she looks like?”

“Well, excluding a scar she wishes to hide. Kind of like my face. We match.” Angie answers, giving her version of a grin.

For the rest of the day, Elena sneaks glances at Donna, then the painting. It isn’t proper, she knows, but she’s curious. And… surely, no scar is enough to justify hiding that cute face from the world?

-

-

Weeks pass. Elena has healed well and she owes it all to Donna.

The two of them have grown closer in the time the former’s injuries have forced them together, close enough to have tea in the mornings and brief chats over common interests throughout the day.

When the weather grows a tad warmer, Elena asks the dollmaker to take a stroll with her outside. She sees the decorated graves, of course, but she knows better than to ask. She doesn’t want their time to be poisoned by grief. The scars of losing loved ones run deep, she knows this too well and they never really heal.

The two of them are basking in comfortable silence for a while, until a thought that feels impossible not to be voiced strikes Elena.

“Donna.” she speaks.

“Hm?”

“When I first woke up and I told you my name… you said ‘I know’.”

“…yes.”

“I’m sure we’ve never met before…?” Elena stops and turns to face her companion. Donna mirrors her.

“How certain are you?” she asks. Upon Elena’s obvious confusion, she elaborates; “As a child, I used to visit the village with my father. In one of those visits, some of the kids made fun of my scar. A boy, especially, was saying some very mean things.”

Elena starts to recall one such incident in the blurry images of her childhood.

“You stopped him.” Donna says. Pauses. “…with a punch to the face.”

Elena raises a hand to her mouth, but a quick laugh escapes her anyway. “I did?” A nod. “No way.”

“You did.”

“It couldn’t have been a strong one, though.” Elena giggles.

“I don’t know. Rumor has it he still hasn’t gotten up, to this day…” The little exhale of a chuckle that escapes Donna makes something in Elena bloom and flutter.

She wants nothing more in that moment than to lift the damned veil and see the face of the gentlest, kindest woman she’s ever met.

-

-

The winter eventually gives way to spring. The earth heals from the wounds of the cold like Elena has, under Donna’s care.

She no longer has doubts about what she feels, what she wants. It is only a matter of overcoming her fears and nervousness. Only a matter of finding the right timing and the appropriate setting.

Elena has rehearsed the words she needs to say many times in her dreams and thoughts, yet she finds herself tongue-tied and completely lost on what to do in reality. She has asked Donna to walk with her, taken her to where the waterfall calms into a river… and now struggles to summon her voice.

“What is it, Elena?” Donna, ever the sweetheart, asks. “You know you can tell me anything… right?”

“What if…” she hesitantly begins. “What if I can’t tell you? …can I show you, instead?”

“Of course.”

Elena takes a deep breath and chastises herself to woman up. One little step brings her into Donna’s personal space. Her hand raises to the edge of the veil, blue eyes searching for a sign she should stop. The dollmaker is tense, but she hasn’t made a move to back away, nor lower Elena’s hand.

She trusts her.

And that’s all Elena needs to finally, finally remove the barrier separating them for months. The cute girl she defended as a child is a beautiful woman now, looking back at her with gentle, dark eyes. The jagged scar running down the right side of her face does nothing to retract from that beauty.

“You don’t need that.” she breathes. “You never did.”

Donna glances to the side, a hint of color spreading over her pale cheeks. Elena chases her chin with her fingers, then slowly inches closer, making sure the dollmaker has ample time to decide if she wants this, too.

When their lips meet, color blooms behind her shut eyelids, within her chest. Donna’s mouth is as soft and sweet as her personality, Elena discovers. It is a short, chaste kiss but it is also a promise for many more to come.

It is the gratitude Elena will eternally hold for Donna, who found her at the ending of her life and nursed her back to this,

A new beginning.

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

[rithmeres]

I, personally, would be enthralled to hear of how your cousin rendered you into a partial vampire.

ok this got long so it’s going under a readmore

i LOVED garlic. as a teen i once at a garlic brie that was more garlic than cheese and enjoyed every bite; garlic bread was my delight. i wanted garlic in and on everything. part of this is due to the fact that my mother strongly dislikes garlic and i was a contrarian teenager and an enjoyer of whatever pissed her off -- but also garlic is Just That Good.

at youth group winter camp when i was 11th grade my cousin kenny (who is a few years older than me and is not actually my cousin but actually he is my cousin) was on staff at the time and he ran this game called ‘kenny’s kitchen’ that we could play to win bonus points for our camp team. at any point we could approach him and say ‘what’s cooking in kenny’s kitchen’ and he would pull out this giant canvas sack from the back room and to get the points we had to eat whatever he grabbed from The Sack in its entirety. if you back down or don’t finish within your time limit, you lose points.

my team was in 4th place by day 2 and because i hadn’t seen anything truly nasty come out of The Sack yet (the worst thing to date was a pair of whole key limes that had to be eaten rind and all) i was like whatever i'll do it. dad didn’t raise no quitter. so i say 'kenny what’s cooking' and he’s like 'yoooooooo i know you can handle anything so im gonna get you somethin good'. see kenny KNEW i wasn’t gonna back down and lose points for my team and he was probably tired of hearing wimpy kids ask if they can have something easy. so he pulls out a jar of minced garlic from The Sack. and im like 👁️👄👁️. and he’s like nah you only have to eat a spoonful. and im like oh ok :) this will be easy. and he grabs a spoon and scoops out An Amount and im once again like 👁️👄👁️. there’s probably a quarter cup of garlic stacked on the spoon. more substance than i have ever seen a regular plastic spoon uphold. allow me to illustrate:

but i ate it all and it wasn’t really that bad, despite the burning in my ear-nose-throat system from the sheer amount of unadulterated allicin. what was really bad was the aftermath. when i walked outside my poor friend daniel, who was at least a couple yards away, turned and looked at me with abject horror and confusion and i was like ‘can you smell it from there?’ and he was like ‘good lord whadda heck….?” the stench is just radiating off me in waves. i walk past a volleyball game in the courtyard on my way to my cabin and people are giving me side eye. i ask my friend if it’s really that bad and he’s like im sorry but ………yeah :|

i brushed my teeth 3 times and mouthwashed and drank a bottle of water and chewed several pieces of gum at once but the smell was unrelenting. my IBS was in its early stage at the time and i could feel my intestines start to revolt against the trauma they’d just been put through. i sat in the back of the mess hall that night for dinner and study. i could not stop burping garlic. there was no escape. it was like that episode of spongebob. that night for reasons unknown one of the girls in my cabin turned the heater way up and i realized that my sweat. smelled. like. garlic. my farts. smelled. like. garlic. my stomach churned and my dreams were bizarre and disturbed in the way that dreams only are when one is feverish and ill, but this was no fever. just garlic.

in the morning i had a cup of tea and felt a lot better but ever since that day i feel sick and sweaty and slightly feverish if i eat more than the barest amount of raw garlic. and it’s a really fickle reaction too, because cooked garlic in normal portions is usually fine, but sometimes it’s not. i can’t chop garlic without gloves bc the smell stains my hands and nothing i do washes it away and i have to sit in garlic hell for three days until it fades on its own. it’s unfortunate. my greatest love, turned against me. even though in my mind i still adore the taste of garlic, the body keeps the score and repeats the same ills of the Garlic Incident if i’m exposed to too much. so yeah thanks kenny lmfao

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag AU

There was a genuine smile on Kagome’s face as she sat on her bed quietly while her family and friends did what they could to try and jog her memory. It was about 3 months since the accident and today the bed was littered with photo albums, old letters, newspapers from her college days that Sango had saved, or her mother pulled from her old bedroom, really anything they could think of to provide visuals. She didn’t want them to feel bad for her predicament, so thought it best to go along with it. They probably knew— she didn’t recognize any of it but bless them for playing along as she nodded or chuckled at appropriate times or patiently waited as she stared at certain items longer than she should have. Because Kagome really wanted to remember.

But in reality, all the words and images were viewed through a strangers lens. Yes, she recognized certain people, but not everyone or the situation in the photos. For Kagome, her last recollections end shortly after graduating college. She knew Sango since they’d been friends, but barely remembered Miroku. To her Miroku was still the boyfriend of less than a year, not a husband and certainly not a father to the couples 1 year old twin girls. Sango was her best friend, so to not remember the wedding or the birth of the twins who based on the photos were precious to her... hurt. There she was in those pictures holding one newborn in each arm, beaming at becoming an aunty, and no recollection of it.

“Tomorrow is the weekend, so we can video chat with Sota,” Mrs. Higurashi reminded her daughter. “I’ve been keeping him updated by text.”

“Where is he again?” Kagome asked.

“In Hawaii, at the University of Hilo.”

“Oh... right,” Kagome chuckled. “I forgot.”

“That’s okay, dear. Sota is in his senior year now and will be coming home in December after graduation.”

“I hope I’m well enough to fly there for the graduation.”

“I think you will be,” her mother smiled softly. “There’s always hope.”

Yeah... hope. It was the only thing keeping Kagome from breaking down. Each night as she drifted to sleep, she’d remind herself of the temporary nature of her condition. Truth or not, it was worth clinging to. Earlier her mother told her of how she’d flown to Hawaii to help Sota settle into his dorm. As the big sister, she was so proud of him, but again Kagome had no recollection of this event and only Hawaiian vacation pictures to prove its truth. Still, she was happy that her brother had grown up so much. The sense of pride she must have felt at the time was renewed in the new knowledge.

She didn’t remember a lot, but there were moments that brought tears to her eyes for more than one reason. Take the other day when Sango and Miroku brought the twins for a visit. The children remembered their Aunty Kagome and quickly reached out with their small hands to her. It brought out tears from the happy emotions such adorable faces could provoke in anyone, yet also tears of frustration for not knowing them at all. Clearly, they loved her, and she wanted to love them too. Bless them, showing concern for her tears, reaching out to Kagome’s face as if to soothe the adult. So, realizing her effect, she quickly smiled and told them she was just happy to see them.

“It’s still a little weird,” Kagome confided to Sango one day, “because my only memory of Miroku is of an annoying guy following you around while still checking out other girls.”

Sango laughed, “he still an annoying guy at times, but it’s true, he has settled down since those days.”

“What was it that finally changed your mind about Miroku?”

“Oh, um actually we’d had a fight... a really big fight over his behavior and I put my foot down. It was me or them because I wasn’t gonna put up with it anymore. I guess the proverbial slap to his face woke him up.”

Kagome chuckled. “It does appear to have worked. But it was obvious how much he loved you despite the stupid things he did.”

Sango nodded. “True. If I didn’t think so too, I would have just walked away and not looked back. Sometimes guys literally need a harsh wake up a call to realize what they’re about to lose.”

That made Kagome think about the supposed fight with Inuyasha on the night of her accident, because it resembled the predicament Sango went through. She frowned. “Why are guys like that?”

Sango shrugged. “If we ever found an answer to that question, we’d be rich.”

Kagome snorted a laugh. “Agreed. We could make money writing self-help books.”

The girls shared a laugh before moving on to other subjects, but as the day grew late, Kagome suddenly sank down on the bed. There was a question she’d been wanting to ask, and though Inuyasha would be the better one to ask, he was still a strangers in her eyes. At least with Sango, she knew she could trust her friend to tell her the truth.

“Before you go, Sango, I have something to ask about.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Could you tell me how I met Inuyasha? Tell me what you know about our relationship?”

Sango’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hasn’t Inu told you anything?”

Kagome looked down. “He has told me things, but I— I still don’t know if I should trust him. I mean... I know my mom loves him and that tells me a lot, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s just a stranger at this point for me— it’s,” she shrugged, “awkward.”

“Oh... Guess I never thought of it that way.” Sango reached out and took her Kagome’s hand. “I’d be happy to answer your questions. It’s okay that it’s awkward, that’s understandable so don’t push yourself to accept things just to accept them, but even I would agree with your mom, he’s probably told you the truth.”

“You think so?”

Sango squeezed her friends hand and chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t like him at first, but the guy really grew on me. Try it, test me,” she coaxed Kagome. “Ask me about something he told you and let’s see if my answers are the same.”

Kagome smiled and sat back for a moment in thought. “What’s something questionable...” she tapped her chin. “The first date he took me on was to a ramen restaurant. Which is not very romantic if you’re trying to woo someone. So, it sounds true and preposterous at the same time. He said he was so nervous that he accidentally spilled a drink on me. I wondered if he told me that just to be funny and endearing, but it never actually happened.”

“Oh,” Sango burst out laughing, “it definitely did happen! You’d told him to pick somewhere he loved to go and Inu’s favorite meal is ramen, so that’s what he picked. And the drink. It was a pink cocktail that stained your dress. You were so annoyed!” She giggled again. “But it was obvious how nervous he was, and I remember how you told me it was cute to see him get all flustered.”

“Oh, wow,” Kagome laughed too. “I guess I have to believe it now. Tell me more.”

“Hmm,” Sango pondered. “He was so nervous to even ask you out, Miroku had to ask you for him.”

“What?!” Kagome gasped and snorted a laugh. “And I’d still said yes?!”

“Yeah, because by then you liked him too. It took... if I remember correctly a year of interactions just for him to gain that much courage.” At that point Sango’s voice quieted. “I don’t know if he’s told you this part yet but, Inu was a broken person when you’d first met.”

“No, he hasn’t.” Kagome leaned forward with interest. “What do you mean?”

“At the time he’d already been broken up with Kikyo for 4 or 5 years I think, but he hadn’t fully moved on yet. I can’t say he still loved her. I think it was more just loneliness. His mother died when he was young as well. So, I think the combination of losing the two most important women in his life left him depressed.”

“Wow...”

“I knew him as Miroku’s brooding coworker, how my husband tolerated that I have no idea, but they were close friends. When we’d introduced you to him, things slowly began to change. You almost made it a mission to help him get out of it.” Sango chuckled lightly. “You know how you are, always trying to help people. At first, Inu resisted, but you didn’t let up and slowly but surely broke through his defenses. He became a puppy dog around you, totally head over heels in love.” She smiled. “It was fun and so cute for us to watch it all happen.”

“I wish I remembered any of this,” Kagome sighed.

“You will. You’ve never been a quitter, so I truly believe you will get your memory back.”

“Thanks, Sango. All of your guys help really means a lot to me.”

Sango reached out and hugged her friend. “I know you’d do the same for me.” She sat back in her chair. “It’s tough now, and I know you described Inuyasha as a stranger, but treat it as if you’re dating a new guy with all those heart racing, excitements that come with it. I see how you look at him.” She teased. “You must at least thinks he’s cute?”

Kagomes cheeks flushed pink. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sango giggled and squeezed her friends hand. “If all you do is focus on this situation, you won’t start to live again. They’re releasing you to go home in a couple weeks, so have a little fun with him. Create some new memories.”

“Maybe you’re right... maybe I will try to think about it that way.” Kagome tips her head slightly. “It is kinda fun to feel those giddy girly emotions when I see him.”

Speaking of. The girls hear a knock at the door and turn to see Inuyasha walking in with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take-out food. “Hey gorgeous and Sango.”

It set off another rush of heat to Kagome’s face. “Hi,” she squeaked out.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Sango stood up with a wink. “See you tomorrow.” She hugged her best friend and left the room.

Inuyasha took the seat beside Kagome and handed her the flowers. “How are you feeling today?”

“Mmm, it was good chatting with Sango.” She held the flowers up to her nose to smell them while keeping her eyes on him. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful women deserve beautiful flowers,” he smiled back and held up a bag. “Hope you’re hungry. I brought dinner since hospital food must be getting boring by now.”

“Aww, that’s thoughtful of you, cause yes,” Kagome sighed, “it is.”

Inuyasha chuckled, then pulled out the containers of food. He handed Kagome a plate. “It’s salmon nitsuke.”

“Oh, yes!” Kagome almost moaned in delight as she opened the container and surveyed the food. “And it smells so delicious!” But before Inuyasha opened his container. “Wait! Let me guess what you got.”

“Okay?” Inuyasha chuckled.

“Ramen.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “How?!”

Kagome giggled. “Sango told me it was your favorite.”

To her guessing was funny, but she didn’t expect the pained expression that instantly fell over Inuyasha’s face. It didn’t take her long to realize. “Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think I got my memory back!”

“I-It’s okay, really,” he tried to reassure her. Yes, it hurt, but, “it’s nice to see you smiling and happy.”

“Are you sure? I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Kagome, it’s really okay.” He smiled with eyes clouded over. “You’ve been... stand-offish till now, so it makes me feel a lot better that you’re comfortable enough to joke with me again.”

“Yeah... about that... I’ve been talking with Sango and she’s been encouraging me to give you a chance. I do want... to take her advice, but...” her voice softened, “could I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“For me, this is all like meeting a new guy and, you know, the whole crush, dating steps, and such whereas for you, it’s different and must be frustrating.”

“If I’m being honest, yeah,” Inuyasha scratched his head, “it is, but I don’t know, also a bit exciting too, like a challenge, but a fun one if that makes any sense. I get to date you all over again— I-I mean if you’ll let me.”

“They’re releasing me soon, so I think...” Kagome’s cheeks flushed. “I’d love to go out on a date with you Inuyasha.”

“Whoo Hoo!” He pumped his fists in the air. “I feel like a teenager again,” Inuyasha laughed.

At that, Kagome giggled, her mood significantly lightened, and a weight lifted. It was the first step towards a sense of normalcy. Forget the fact she couldn’t remember a chunk of her past and live in the now where a handsome hanyo sat waiting.