#zoe bakes

[melljam]

10th anniversary cake baking !

[bubblegumbullshit]

@danielhowell and @amazingphil on great british bake off when??

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

the problem with this cold is not even that it's a particularly bad cold, it's not, I had mostly a sore throat yesterday and today my throat is much better and my sinuses are way worse, but I think it'll blow through in another day or two. it is a baby cold. I would not constantly be bitching about it normally.

the problem is that very recently I put up with, I think, reasonable grace with (a three weeks of hospital-requiring stomach nonsense and (b a completely unrelated heart problem we subsequently discovered that required a pacemaker and also could maybe have killed me? although there's a possibility that the doctor who said that was just trying to scare me into going to the ER, it might not have been as life threatening as he said.

and I'm not saying I was in great spirits through all that shit! (dog bless Zoe who sat with me for three hours in the shitty ER while I was VERY worried about losing my job and also dying, and THEN she came and sat with me again after the pacemaker surgery when I was too freaked out from the anesthetic to be in a hospital room alone. many outstanding heroics by zoe this month!)

but, like, I got through it and I mostly don't think I was too much of a tantrum baby about it, on balance, with the possible exception of that third ER trip and they did tell me I might die and then make me sit in a room for five hours while they didn't do anything about the problem, so, you know, a certain amount of tantrum was maybe warranted.

but, the problem we are now having is, I am being extremely the world's biggest tantrum baby about this mild-to-moderate cold. I have complained to absolutely everyone available to listen to me about it, including you, gentle reader. I am not being a grownup. I am not keeping shit in perspective. I am slacking off on things I know I should be doing and can do, regardless of a little sinus pressure.

but also, I have used up all of my ability to deal with medical shit for at least the next three months! there is nothing left in me that is capable of behaving like a responsible adult in the face of moderate sinus pressure! you can use up your ability to do this!

so I'm going to be just the whiniest, least patient, most obnoxious human being there ever has been until my sinuses are done being like this. sorry!

[robertfettuccine]

❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ OBSERVE MY PIE ❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

[lilyware]

today is my youngest sister's birthday (now every sister is an adult 😩) so i baked her birthday cake and made homemade pizza

[literalite]

your roomies makeovers look so good!! you gave them so much more personality in their looks alone!

MAD HI thank u ily <33

[discoidal]

baking a peach and walnut cream cake 😳😳😳😳😳 girl she's so sexy

[awonderlandsystem]

Baked Thought Trains Rambles... On headmates pushing and pulling 🚂💨💨

Sharing the front is hard. No lie. I want to listen to music and draw. I want to get my workout in. Just lemme scroll mindlessly! I think we've spent more time fighting over getting anything done. Meh you made a picture already. It's a process Zoe. I only need twenty or so minutes. I don't want to lose my streak. The body already feels like it's been hit by a truck! Good. That means we're making progress. Everyday while the kids are gone it's like this. Facepalm.

[leviiackrman]

Happy birthday Ms Margot💚

Tag list (ask to be added or removed): @carrionsflower @statichvm @risingsh0t @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @kanos @confidentandgood @unholymilf @florbelles @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @roofgeese @aezyrraeshh @faerune @tekehu @jackiesarch @minaharkers @sergeiravenov @carlosoliveiraa @rosenfey @nokstella @queennymeria @heroofpenamstan @virginlucanis @jamessunderlandgf @d-esmond @solasan @bigbywlf @delzinrowe @fenharel @imogenkol

 MARGOT DURAND (Attack on Titan)

[020755]

Baked Salami (Oldie but Goodie)

Here is an amazing appetizer if you are looking for something to hold everyone over till dinner. This is an oldie but goodie recipe, and everyone loves it always. Rarely is there a piece left over. Good Old Fashioned Kosher Salami. (the kind in the package from Hebrew National is what I’m talking about)   A-Mazing! I have to say this is my #1 post on my blog hands down since 2011. People love…

[writers-potion]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

[drunkinyourbenz]

drunk arguing w billie?

i went slightly overboard i am so sorry anon

୨ৎ i don't wanna talk right now. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: angst

୨ৎ content: fighting (duh), billie's drunk, toxic relationship, emotional abuse (?), billie's a bitch, dont wanna spoil anything else js read it babe <3

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes

୨ৎ note: sorry in advance <3

you were anxious, to say the least. you knew it had gotten bad again for billie, that much was obvious. but you’d expected her to maybe… talk to you about it. after a year and a half of dating, you felt like perhaps you could be someone she trusted enough to turn to. but you weren’t. 

it was nothing personal, you supposed. she wasn’t talking to anyone about it—not finneas, not zoe, not even maggie. she had a tendency to close herself off, and you knew that was something she had to work through herself. 

…but that didn’t stop the fact that you were up at eleven thirty at night, wondering when your girlfriend would come home. you felt sick with worry, your stomach turning in the most heart wrenching way. what if something was going really badly wrong? what if it was worse than you thought? 

you couldn’t take your mind off it, no matter what you did. you’d even dragged yourself into the kitchen to bake some cookies, thinking that maybe having something else to focus on would ease your worries. but no, after every cup of flour and every pinch of salt, your mind drifted back to her. you almost burnt the cookies because of how heavy your heart was with worry. 

recently, she’d been getting home later and later, and although you acted as if nothing had changed, you could remember vividly every hour where you wondered where she was, if she was okay. most nights, she would get home around ten pm, crawling into bed with you and wrapping her arms around you. the feeling of her head buried in the crook of your neck brought far more comfort than it should, considering the situation. 

earlier in your relationship, she would get home at around six, maybe eight. either way, you’d have time to spend together. you ate dinner together like a normal couple, and sometimes you had movie nights. it didn’t matter what you did, because you were together. 

but now, you weren’t sure if you’d eaten dinner together once in the past two weeks. 

each time she got home late, you could smell the alcohol on her. it wasn’t that strong, but it was the pattern that worried you. all signs were pointing towards a downward spiral, and she wouldn’t even talk to you, her own girlfriend. 

upon hearing the door open abruptly, you looked up from where you’d been staring blankly at the chocolate chip cookies as they cooled. you pursed your lips as you heard the door slam, and you suddenly didn’t want to see billie anymore. you’d been so anxious about where she was, so eager to finally see her again, but… you didn’t want to see her, not like this. 

but it was her house too, so soon enough, stumbling footsteps could be heard through the hallway, and you heard her lazily kick her shoes off at the door. it didn’t take long for her to come into view as she walked into the living room that was connected to the kitchen you were in. she dumped her bag on the couch, shrugging her jacket off while she was at it. 

she did a double take when she saw you, as if she’d expected you to just be fast asleep in bed. she froze for a second or two, before letting out a heavy sigh. 

there was no other sign of acknowledgement, she walked to the sink and grabbed a glass of water, looking past you as if you didn’t exist. you could’ve sworn you felt your heart sink—this was worse than usual. 

closing your eyes briefly, you inhaled deeply, you were well aware she hadn’t been talking to finneas or maggie about this—you’d just gotten off the phone with a very concerned maggie, and you felt so guilty for not being able to assure her that everything was fine, that her daughter was okay. because you truly didn’t know. 

the silence that hung over the room was heavy and uncomfortable, making you feel strangely claustrophobic. you knew that the silence would have to be broken eventually, so you spoke. you skipped the usual ‘how was your day’ and simply got straight to the point. “...are you okay?”

her head snapped up as if she’d been snapped out of a daze, and she looked at you as if she were suddenly seeing you for the first time. you watched as she swallowed, and finally forced herself to speak in a whisper. “...i don’t know.” billie replied blankly, and you felt your heart ache at her tone. it was as if she had already accepted that fact, and wasn’t going to do anything to drag herself out of the pool of endless self destruction.

“is there anything i can do, my love?”

in the past, that sentence would have had her collapsing into your arms, letting you hold her until she felt even a little bit better. this time, however, just she looked at you for a moment. behind that cold facade, you could’ve sworn you saw something flash in her eyes–hope? love? you weren’t sure, because it disappeared as quickly as it’d flashed over her face. 

her voice came out harsher than you’d expected when she spoke, “you could leave me alone.” 

you simply blinked in surprise. you weren’t going to push her to talk to you about it, obviously, but it confused you that she was resorting to this…meanness. she didn’t just say it like she needed space—which, in reality, was something she had gotten a lot of lately—she said it like you were the issue. like you had caused everything wrong in her life at the moment. that stung more than you thought it would. 

however, you didn’t want to be that pushy girlfriend who couldn’t let things go, so you just nodded slowly, trying to hide the concern still in your voice. “i mean, if that’s what you need…”

the two of you stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours—it was probably just five minutes, but the tense silence was suffocating. you wanted to say something, to help her, but what could you do that she wouldn’t just scoff at and ignore? 

abruptly, interrupting the strangling silence, billie stood up. in her haste, she knocked over a glass on the table, and you flinched as you watched it fall to the floor and shatter. billie didn’t spare the broken glass a single glance as she snapped, “you know what?”

your eyes dart between billie and the glass before settling on your girlfriend, looking at the uncharacteristic anger in her expression. “what?”

“i hate that you do this! you never push me to talk! you never help me! you never…” she trailed off, running out of words to say but certainly not running out of anger. 

“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow, “haven’t you noticed the way i’ve been doing absolutely everything i can to help for months? everything. no matter what i do, you push me away. you push everyone away—i just got a call from maggie, who was crying because she’s so worried about you. i can’t do shit to help if you don’t want to be helped, billie. no one can.” 

her mouth fell open, and she spent a minute just staring at you. you could see the debate she was having with herself in her mind, the way she was wondering whether to follow the rational or emotional part of her brain. you could tell that she knew you were right, but it looked like her frustration was too intense and her mind was too clouded by alcohol to actually think properly. 

the anger won, as it had been a lot recently. you were right, of course. you always were when it came to her—you knew her better than you knew yourself. 

“shut up! you’re not helpful, and you can’t fix me! you can’t fix anything!” her voice was only raising in volume, and she stepped closer to you, a finger jabbing the air between you to emphasise her words. 

you subconsciously took an instinctive step backwards as she stepped towards you, your back hitting the countertop. “then tell me what i can do!” 

billie scoffed, “you can leave! you can ignore it like you usually do!” she was yelling at this point, “you can be useless like you usually are!” 

you visibly flinched at those last words. part of your brain reminded you that she’s drunk, she doesn’t mean it, but the other half was shouting at you about how drunk words are sober thoughts. your mind was racing at this point, was that really how little she thought of you? you swallowed heavily before speaking softly, “do you…do you really think i don’t care?” 

momentarily, she seemed to recognise the hurt on your face, and something like guilt appeared in her eyes. said guilt didn’t last, and the anger was rushing back even more all-consuming than it had been before, “of course you don’t care!”

you stared at her in disbelief—did she genuinely believe you didn’t care? did she not see all the effort you put in for her? you opened your mouth to speak, but she bet you to it. 

“you know what?” she didn’t give you time to speak, she just rushed into her point. “i wish you weren't even here. i’d be better off dealing with this alone. without your stupid, useless attempts to help.”

yet again, you stared at her in shock. you didn’t think you could be more hurt in one night even if you tried. she’s drunk, you kept telling yourself, but deep down you knew that wasn’t an excuse. if she loved you, she wouldn’t say these things. once again, she continued before you could get a word in. her anger was consuming her in her drunken state, there was no thought behind her words, just the first insults she could find. 

“you’re a fucking burden, you know that? i don’t need you, i don’t want you, you’re just in the way. always in the fucking way!” 

just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, she went there. you froze in place, taking a long moment to just stare at her in disbelieving silence. “...what did you just say?”

noticing that her words finally seemed to hit a nerve, she only pushed further, “you heard me. you always have been.” 

that hit like a slap in the face, leaving you speechless. you truly didn’t know what to say, it didn’t feel like you were looking at the love of your life anymore. this was a stranger, someone you knew so well but at the same time knew absolutely nothing about. you weren’t sure when the first tear had fallen, but they were now streaming down your cheeks. 

“you–” billie opened her mouth to continue, but you interrupted her. 

“that’s enough.” your voice was shaky but surprisingly firm, and at your firm tone, billie pauses. her mouth was still open to continue, but then she looked at you. she really looked at you, and saw the tears on your cheeks and the look in your eyes.

it was as if she were seeing you for the first time in the whole night, and you watched as the angry mask crumbled right in front of your eyes. after watching her for a moment, your eyes trailed down to the floor as you took a deep breath, wanting to look anywhere except for her. 

“fuck,” she murmured, her breathing shallow as she seemed to actually realise what she’d just said.  

“i-i’m sorry–” billie whispered, her voice weak as she looked at you, reaching out for your arm and only causing you to shift away from her so she couldn’t touch you. you watched as her eyes widened in panic at your avoidance of her touch, as the weight of her words seemed to sink in. “i didn’t mean it–you know that–”

you give her a look, raising an eyebrow, “really? because you had a lot to say.”

“i love you. you know that.”

those three words didn’t feel like they held the same meaning as they used to, they weren’t giving you the butterflies you used to get. actions speak louder than words, and her actions were greatly lacking. “then start acting like it.” 

“how?” her voice was a whisper, barely audible. 

you swallowed, looking down at the floor and then back at her. it felt like her fist was in your chest, ripping your heart out. it physically hurt you to have this conversation. 

“i can’t spell it out for you, billie. you used to show it, you’ll figure it out if you want to. if you really can’t, i think that says something for itself.”

in your mind, you silently wished for her to say something. to say she can try, she can fix this. but you weren’t sure how much was even left to fix, after all these months of cracks spreading through your relationship and pushing you further apart. but you remembered. you remembered when the two of you use to dance through the kitchen just because you felt like it. you remembered staying up all night cuddled up in bed having whispered conversations about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. it hadn’t been like that in a long time, but you knew that both of you remembered it as if it were yesterday. 

and despite it all, despite how much billie wanted to beg you to stay, to do everything she possibly could to cling to you until she somehow mended all the broken patches in your relationship, she knew you were right. she couldn’t let you tell her how to fix this, she’d have to figure it out by herself.

and she didn’t know how, so she let you stand up and walk out the door. 

which, its own cruel way, was an answer in itself. 

[marsbutterfly]

Headcanons: The Five Senses Of The Human Body After Losing Hanji Zoe

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since last year, since part 3 part 1 came out. I miss them. I miss them a lot :(

warnings: fem!reader, grief and mentions of hanji's death. NSFW once you get to touch: masturbation, dildo riding, praising, crying afterwards.

You see Hanji in the old books that collect dust in the old shelves in your room. The pages that never got the pleasure of being touched by their fingers, the words on the pages that never once got to see those whiskey brown eyes.

You see Hanji in the apron that hangs in the kitchen, still covered in flour from the cake they tried to bake not long ago. They kept saying they would wash it and get it clean before baking again but they never actually got the chance to do it.

You see Hanji in the box of extra sets of glasses that sits on top of the dresser. Actual frames and battle frames, broken glasses and brand new ones they never even got the chance to wear.

You see Hanji in the stack of paperwork they left behind. Unfinished drafts for new flying machines, titan experiments with Armin's Colossal Titan, a few half-written love letters dedicated towards you that you had never read until a few days ago.

You see Hanji in the dark corners of the bedroom, where their jacket hangs from the chair. A spot you haven't touched in weeks, if not a month. Not since before the rumbling even started because you know they were very particular about the places they kept their things.

You smell Hanji in the dirty bed sheets they left behind. The covers are still messy and thrown around, half hanging from the bed as you haven't had the courage or the strength to fix it. You can still clearly see the image of their body laying around naked, an arm over their face while their leg is on top of yours.

You smell Hanji in the half empty bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. In the soap bar that has been broken in half because they couldn't find a replacement, so they tried their best to make it last.

You smell Hanji in the field of flowers right outside the city, a place where the two of you would go whenever they needed time away from the job as the commander. Sunflowers had always been their favorite.

You smell Hanji in the rain that pours outside your window. The memories of when they would go outside and allow themselves a few minutes of peace and quiet, just feeling the water against their clothes and their skin, moments that the two of you could share together.

You smell Hanji in the dirt, no matter where you go. Gardening had always been an activity the two of you shared, even if you were not the biggest fan of dirt and grass. But you could never deny them anything, not when it caused such a big smile to take over their face.

You taste Hanji in the leftovers you got from their favorite restaurant on the very last date the two of you went on together. A small place hidden behind all the buildings of the capital, where the waitresses knew you by heart and already knew your order.

You taste Hanji in the bottle of wine you had saved for the day the two of you got married. You never had the chance to savor it together so you take it to the area where you built a small gravestone for them and pour some on the empty ground, knowing that not even their body is down there.

You taste Hanji in the dragon fruits that Levi brought back for you. He knows those were their favorite and therefore he knows you, more than anyone, need to taste them again to feel connected to the person you had grown to love the most.

You taste Hanji in the food you accidentally made slightly too spice for you because you were so used to making it like that for them. You end up adding too much pepper and you are all too used to drinking lots of water during meals to make sure they are happy. But they aren't here anymore.

You taste Hanji in the tea bags that never got open, bags and exotic leaves that were confiscated from the military and the two of you stole from the Military Police, bag that you now have to try on your own because Levi is too busy traveling the world and rebuilding society and Hanji... Well, they aren't here anymore.

You hear Hanji in the old recordings Kiyomi Azumabito had saved from when all of you were having secret meetings away from Paradis. To be able to hear their voice again after witnessing their death, to be able to hear their laugh and the seriousness all combined into one recording. You could almost picture them next to you again.

You hear Hanji in the birds that sing outside. They would wake up as soon as the sun would rise and study the birds while sitting on the window ledge, a cup of tea in one hand while the other held a journal against their thigh, the pencil tightly gripped in between their fingers.

You hear Hanji in the way that you speak. After so many years as lovers and even more so as friends, you couldn't help but acquire some of their mannerisms. The jokingly pronounce T's at the end of your sentences, the loud burst of laugh when you first begin, the subtle roll of your tongue when you pronounce a few words.

You hear Hanji in the street music around the area that used to be surrounded by Wall Sina. Most of the performers know you by name, from times before the rumbling, when you and Hanji would walk together along these streets and slow dance to the sound of the instruments.

You hear Hanji in the moans you let out. Their name still falls from your lips and you can hear their voice, calling you a "good girl" and "what a wonderful job you are doing for me, Moonlight." Their praises still echo through the walls of your heart.

You touch Hanji every time you touch yourself. As soon as your eyes close, you lose the feeling that you are the one doing it to yourself as you begin to imagine their fingers inside of you once more, their thumb brushing against your clit.

You touch Hanji every time your fingers aren't enough and you have to resort to wrapping the strap they used to wear around a pillow. The way it slides inside of you and you cling to the pillowcase, imagining it's their shirt, you cry out their name and a few tears come out of your eyes against your will. You ride the strap until you are crying their name so loudly half the town can hear. You most likely cry afterwards.

You touch Hanji every time you run your fingers above your naked skin, trailing the hairs like a feather falling from a flying bird. You touch the areas of yourself you hate the most and you can almost listen to their words of love, about how beautiful you are and how they could never love anyone like they love you.

You touch Hanji every time the palm of your hand covers your nipples. Every time you squeeze your breasts at the exact same strength level they would and whimper at the feeling, lying to yourself that this is actually them, that they are still here and touching you in such an intimate manner.

You touch Hanji every time you close your eyes and you are finally able to dream about them. About a life in which they didn't have to sacrifice themselves, that you didn't have to see their body fall to the ground. You touch their face and see them smile once more, a sight you are so scared of forgetting, you smell their skin and you hear their voice in such a sweet tone you can almost taste it,

"I miss you."

[ribroses]

HALLOWEEN 2010’s NOSTALGIA

Here are some Halloween/Autumn videos for some 2010’s nostalgia if anyone’s interested!

Bethany Mota | September Favorites 2013!!

Bethany Mota | Beauty Haul! Fall & Halloween Goodies

Bethany Mota | DIY Despicable Minion Costume + Makeup!

Bethany Mota | DIY Halloween Life Hacks! – Last Minute Costumes

Zoella | Halloween Cupcakes with PointlessBlog

Zoella | Pumpkin Carving with Gabby 2015

Zoella | Halloween Pumpkin Bake Off Challenge

Zoella | Autumn and Halloween Home Haul

Zoe Sugg | Halloween Movie Night & Garden Centre Festive Feels

Zoella | Halloween Baking With Joe

Zoella | Turning My Brother Into Pennywise

Zoella | Halloween Party in London

Mark Ferris | Halloween Baking With Zoe

LaurDIY | DIY HALLOWEEN COSTUMES FOR TEENS

Hannah Meloche | CUTE last-minute halloween costume ideas for teens!

Hannah Meloche | Fullest House-Fall Festivities (Episode 2)

Alexa Chung | Alexa Chung Reveals Her Ultimate Halloween Costume

Let me know if you have any favorites or more to add!! My asks are always open!! 🖤🧡🎃👻

[jaydedstories24]

For who YOU are– Michael Langdon AHS apocalypse

Summary: after Cordelia kills Ms mead Michael Langdon kills the other witches but takes the reader hostage when he sees that the others have escaped. For the first time in Michael’s life, someone wants to know what he wants.

Warnings: kidnapping, being held hostage, Burning someone at the stake, swearing, talk of abuse.

Word count: 1.6+

Tags: @ajokeformur-ray

Y/n POV

“where did you guys go?” I say to everyone that's just walked in the door.

“To take care of a problem, dear” Myrtle says.

“and is there a reason why you went without me but everyone else” I asked.

I take a look at Zoe, Madison, queenie, Mallory and Cordelia they're all dressed in black.

“ You burnt someone at the stake didn't you” I accuse.

“Yes y/n if you must know we burnt someone at the stake” Cordelia walked passed me.

“Who” I asked.

Cordelia hasn't really spoken to me or has been really arrogant since Michael came into our lives apparently I'm the only one here that doesn't see him what everyone else says he is.

“Who” I yelled.

“the old lady with the black hairstyle” Madison answers.

“Ms. Mead you killed Ms. why on earth would you do that” I freak out.

“To show Michael that I’m done messing around with him” Cordelia says

Taking her by surprise I put both of my hands on the side of her head and forced myself into her memories.

Flashes, the burning, the smell of charred flesh.

“I will kill you all” Michael promised.

I take my hands off of Cordelia.

“I am your supreme you may have gifts that the others don’t but you will not use them on me” she orders.

“Some supreme you are you’ve practically signed our death certificates with that you do understand right? At least Fiona would’ve made a truce with him” I yell.

“Do not use my mother against me y/n” Cordelia scolds.

“I have gifts you don’t that is correct it’s also why I told you not to attack Michael everything I saw everything I warned you about” I told Cordelia.

“What you saw maybe true but that side of Michael is long gone I gave him a chance today and he turned it down” Cordelia replied.

“Of course he did you killed the one person he thought who loved him what did you think that you were going to walk off arm in arm, embrace the coven that killed the closest thing to he ever had to a mother. I don’t think he would want to bake cookies with you Cordelia” I spat

“I’m strong enough to take him y/n” Cordelia says.

“That’s a laugh” I smiled.

I turned around to walk back up the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going Missy?” Cordelia questioned.

“To paint my nails so that they’re fresh for my inevitable death, are you coming Madi? I invite her.

“No, this shits crazy I’m out for what it’s worth y/n I hope you live you’re the only one I like around here.” She walks out the front door.

“When Michael comes here and trust me he will. I won’t fight him and I won’t protect you” I warn

I walked upstairs.

Red.

Red I think is a fantastic colour to paint your nails before you die. I think painting them black is just a little on the nose.

It has started my blood runs cold I can hear the witches downstairs especially the younger ones calling out for me. But if I have any chance of being able to really meet Michael for who he is I can’t do anything. So I put my headphones on and paint my last nail.

I look up when I smell the metallic scent that blood gives off.

Michael stands at my door my breath hitches. It’s different looking into Michael’s eyes they’re look hardened much unlike the sweet past version I saw him as in murder house. However they still have the Same jaded look on his face

He stands there for a moment before racing towards me I only flinch when he blows black dust into my face.

Floating? I feel I’m floating I don’t open my eyes I’m too tired and strangely I’m at peace.

I feel someone put me on what feels like a wooden chair and put something on my wrist.

My head rolls forward and I wake up.

“Thank Satan I thought you were going to sleep forever then you wouldn’t have been very helpful to me” Michael says.

“Yeah well that stuff smells like goats ass” I say half smart.

“No that would be me actually” he tells me.

Now that he says that it gives me a moment to take in his appearance disheveled, dirty but mostly he looks broken.

“Listen Michael I know you’re going through a hard time–“ I start.

“A hard time your witches killed my Ms mead and now you’re going to help me” he yells.

“I’m not going to be much help to you” I say quietly.

“You will help me whether you like it or not” he towers over me.

To my surprise I don’t quiver when he stands over me.

“You see when the witches when they notice you’re gone they will have to come out of hiding and look for you” he tells me.

“No they won’t we got into a disagreement. I’ve been arguing with the coven for months now” I disagree with him.

There’s a look in his eyes that proves he wants to believe me but some part that thinks he can’t after everything he’s been through.

I struggle with the rope’s around my wrists. They start burning.

“They’re cursed ropes they won’t hurt you unless you try to escape” he says.

In this moment I found that interesting he doesn’t intend to hurt me. I stop resisting and relax.

“You say that the coven has had a disagreement with you. What could possibly cause that much of a rift that they wouldn’t protect their own” he asks me.

Michael sits down on a wooden box waiting for my answer.

“You, we had a disagreement about you” I answered hesitantly.

He leans forward slightly, “what about me?”

“They think you’re evil” I answered.

Michael seems suspicious for a moment, “you don’t”

I shake my head.

“Why” he scoffs.

“Because after you performed the seven wonders and the extra challenges Cordelia made us look into you. She sent Madison and I to the house you grew up in”

“What did you find there?. Did you find whatever proof you were looking for?” He seems intrigued.

“The others found what they needed to crucify you but I don’t agree with them” I answered honestly.

“If you went looking then you would have also found that I am the Antichrist” he says.

“But that doesn’t make you evil Michael it makes you powerful. I know about your upbringing, about Constance’s abuse, trying to get to know Tate as your dad and your interesting relationship with Ben. Michael I know a lot about you and I understand it but everyone your entire life has done nothing but force their opinions on you” I say softly.

He takes a moment to comprehend everything I just said to him.

“So you know full well everything I am so you understand why I’m so upset about Ms. Mead she is the one person who didn’t force anything on to me” he says softly.

I sighed. He hasn’t realised it yet but she was using him too.

“Don’t suggest otherwise to me don’t lie to me” he orders.

“Michael I’m not I promise to you I’m not” I tell him.

He seems to be waiting for an explanation.

“I have a particular gift that allows me to adsorb a memory and share it with other people would it be okay if I could share it with you” I asked him.

“That’s a trick I know better than that do not take me for a fool. You just want me to untie your hands” he says.

“No, Michael I use touch to transfer the memory using touch. I don’t want you to untie my hands until you’re ready, until you trust me and only then. I’m asking for permission to touch you” I explain.

He walks over to me and kneels down to my level, “do whatever you have to do, show me”

I lean forward the smell doesn’t really bother me anymore. I lean forward far enough that I’m barely touching him. I just need confirmation that he’s okay with this.

He stares at me with his blue eyes that seem to be staring into my soul. “Y/n it’s okay, kiss me.” This is the first time he’s said my name.

My lips touch his and lock my touch is as light as feather. I whisper the spell I need to to show him the memory.

He stays there absolutely shocked for a moment tearing and shaking.

He quickly undoes the ropes.

“I don’t even know what to say as shocking as it is I am thankful for the truth how can I thank you,what can I do for you ” he tells me.

Tears slide down his face.

I hug him. “Michael I want to get to know you for who you are.

The end

Author’s note this is my first post on my new account hope you like it. Anyway this is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend sorry I didn’t get to it sooner I’ve been busy

Requests are open

[turn-my-hollow-purple]

What the AOT Characters Get Armin for His Birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVELY ARMEEN (guys I love him so fucking much it's not funny... I wish he was real)

Eren: a stack of random books... he knows nothing about the books, nor does he know if Armin wants them but he gets them nonetheless

Mikasa: she gets him a little notebook and pen set, a classic stationary combo, along with a beautiful seashell (because she knows how much he loves the sea)

Jean: gets him a collection of historical books and atlases to appease Armin's love of geography and history... tries to play it off cool but really wanted to get Armin this heartfelt gift

Sasha and Connie: they make a homemade card for Armin as well as baking him a cake (it's absolutely horrible but it's the thought that counts right?)

Levi: "doesn't do gifts" but he does wish Armin a happy birthday and says something very sweet when the two are alone; "I'm proud of you, Armin."

Erwin: gets Armin something vintage and rare like a pocket watch or compass, as they share their love of historical stuff

Hange Zoe: they share a crap ton of notes and drawings with Armin that they claimed they "made just for him", but in reality they kinda forgot it was his birthday...

Annie: a kiss heheh (jokes guys); she loves him obviously but is sooooo bad at gift giving, so she gives him this cool like switchblade that she fashioned herself

Reiner: also goes with the stationary route to get Armin something like some cool pens and papers

Bertholdt: also isn't the best at gift giving but he's also a creative little pookie so he hand-makes Armin like a bracelet out of some sea shells

Historia: wants Armin to be a plant dad soooo bad so she gets him a cute little flower to take care

Ymir: just gets Armin a rock... she doesn't really care that much