#and you got me writing for this straight away you FIEND

[babyhatesreality]

hello hello! i hope you’re well!💕 imagine the following:

baby being a hot chip fiend.

the thought has not left me. i’m plagued with thoughts of it on the daily.😭

since katie cat is a modern little, the thought of her enjoying and munching away on takis or hot cheetos while steve and/or bucky just recoil at the spiciness of it just makes me laugh.

especially since steve and bucky were just raised in a completely different time, a stomachache waiting to happen for them, is literally just a casual little snack for her.😭💀

however, there’s also the possibility that at least one of them…bucky would like the spice.

OMG @spoopynortherndownwhore!! So this is hilarious for a multitude of reasons. The first being- I adore this idea and it makes me laugh so hard- you are a genius. Also I'm so sorry for the delay. The second- I am the absolute opposite of a hot chip fiend. Like some of the Taco Bell mild stuff is too much for me. So I have absolutely no idea how to write it because I am literally that person that get a whiff of a spicy scent and starts making faces like a two year old confronted with broccoli.

So all that being said....Imma make some stuff up because it makes me laugh and because you are amazing and I hope it makes you laugh!

This one time you were grocery shopping with Bucky, and a package of Flaming Cheetos caught your eye. You thought the cheetah with the fire behind him was pretty, so you asked if you could get it.

Bucky wasn't sure about this. "Baby, these are hot and spicy. I don't think you're gonna like 'em." But when your face crumpled with disappointment, of course he couldn't handle that. He tossed them right into the basket. "What the heck. Let's live a little."

Your cheering and giggles was all he needed to know it was the right move.

Once you got home, you were desperate to try them, but Bucky insisted on you eating a normal lunch first. Once you finished your pb&j and carrot sticks, you both decided to try them together.

At the first taste, your eyes widened from the burn, your nose wrinkled as it ran, and your tongue felt like it was on fire. And you liked it a lot. You didn't care for the burn, but once you got past that the taste was really good! You reached for another one, but your hand was intercepted.

Because Bucky, who had popped one in at the same time as you, was nearly gagging. He felt like his face was exploding, his guts were on fire, and he didn't even want to think about what was happening in his colon.

"Absolutely not," he wheezed at you, keeping a hold of your hand while snatching the bag. He put the offending fire chips from hell in the top cabinet above the fridge where you couldn't reach even with your step stool before grabbing the gallon of milk. He sloshed some into your glass quickly, before drinking straight from the jug himself.

Once he tamed the burn, he became aware that you were just watching him curiously, having not touched your milk at all.

"Didn't that burn?" Bucky asked, his voice still hoarse from the spice. You nodded.

"Yeah but it was fun!"

"FUN?!"

"Yup! Can I have another?"

"No, baby, I don't want it to hurt your tummy."

"Doesn't hurt!"

"It might not hurt now, but it'll hurt later. No more flaming hot cheetos."

"Dat's no fun."

"You'll thank me later."

"You didn't like dem, Daddy?"

"They're not gonna like ME, munchkin. Drink your milk please."

After you had obeyed and had a milk mustache, you tried again. "Dey didn't taste good to you?"

"They tasted fine, but that burn....yikes," Bucky mumbled as he wiped your face.

"I like da taste too!"

"The taste WAS good, but it's not worth it."

"Please, Daddy? Just one more?"

"Sorry Trouble, it's not happening again."

"But what if Papa like da taste? Can he has them?"

"Okay, now THAT'S a fun idea."

Later that night, Bucky had convinced Steve to try one, and relented on letting you have another- mostly so he could watch Steve's reaction to you having no reaction.

It went exactly how you think it would go.

Steve banned them from the house after watching you down three cheetos in a row in absolute horror.

When you asked what was going to happen to the rest of the cheetos since they weren't allowed in the house anymore, Bucky brushed it off, saying they'd take care of it.

What you didn't know, was after Steve had tucked you into your bed that night, he caught Bucky sneaking a handful of them in the kitchen pantry with a tub of ice cream next to him.

Bucky just blinked at him innocent. "Don't you judge me, Rogers."

"Fine, Barnes. But you either point your ass the other way in bed tonight, or you're sleeping on the couch."

[vemaro]

how the tables have turned

Summary: “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”

He’s suddenly being yanked back by his shirt. On instinct, he pulls out a dagger, ready to attack, but Jaheira, the perpetrator, takes out her own and holds it at the ready. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Little Star,” she says cheekily.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~1800

Notes: Here I am on my day off wanting to write fluff and I end up writing about the whole Haarlep ordeal. That situation is bizarre and uncomfy, but full of so much angst. As per usual, this is written with the context of my AU, so Astarion and Tav aren’t actually together (yet) and this takes place within the context of the game plot. The vampy boy just got back from the ditching the posse in a hissy fit and discovers some disturbing changes.

…

“Rendezvous back here at the Elfsong when we’re all through, got it?” The party converges on the door of their suite, Tav at the lead, but just as it opens, she freezes. A tingle runs down her spine and a flush comes over her cheeks. No no no. Not now. Not again. “Oh no,” she mumbles before shoving her way past her friends and running straight to her bedroom. The door shuts with a resounding thud and a loud silence follows.

Karlach grimaces. “Fucking Haarlep,” she says, spitting the fiend’s name.

Astarion, who was at the back of the group, looks between Tav’s door and the tiefling. “What … was that about?”

No one gives him an immediate answer, but something about their silence feels off. He’s the only one who appears lost. In other words, they know something and they don’t want to tell him. Most likely as payback from when he left their group. Even he has to admit it’s somewhat warranted, but he’s here now, damnit. Then again, it’s been less than 24 hours since he came back.

Gale, unofficial second in command, awkwardly steps into the center of things. “Tav requires a, er, moment of privacy.” He clears his throat. “We should allow her that by going out and doing as she asked of us. Supplies won’t collect themselves.”

Astarion stares at the door. “But is she alright?”

The wizard falls silent once more, pointedly looking down at his boots and clearly done talking. Okay … Astarion can’t tell if he’s more annoyed by the situation or concerned for the person locked in the room. Fine. If they’re not going to provide him any information, he might as well get it from the source.

His expression must’ve given away his intention because Wyll grabs his shoulder before he can move. “Don’t, Astarion. Leave her be.”

“Don’t touch me.” He shrugs off the warlock's hand and continues on his way. Just as he touches the door knob, a noise escapes the room. A moan. A moan? And he knows that moan. He’s made people do it before. This—this can’t be right. He must be delusional. But then there it is again, a sound of ecstasy passing through Tav’s lips. “What in the fucking Nine Hells is going on in there?” he demands out loud.

Gale's face is bright red and he’s white knuckling his quarterstaff. “I told you she needed a moment,” he mutters, eyes pleading. “Now please kindly step away from the door.”

Astarion does move away from the door and gets right in his face. “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”

He’s suddenly being yanked back by his shirt. On instinct, he pulls out a dagger, ready to attack, but Jaheira, the perpetrator, takes out her own and holds it at the ready. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Little Star,” she says cheekily.

As frustrated as he is, Astarion is in no mood to fight. Although he has apologized for his dramatic departure, he’s not so naive to believe everyone has entirely forgiven him. He stashes his knife and holds up his hands. “I yield.”

She snaps at the others. “You all have a job to do, don’t you? Shoo.” They all file out slowly, a couple of them tossing a final glance in Tav's direction. Once it’s just the Harper and the vampire, the former gestures signals for him to follow. “Come.”

He grits his teeth, but obeys. Jaheira leads him downstairs into the tavern. It’s still mid morning, so there’s not much business yet, only a handful of people sprinkled across the space. The pair bypass the bar entirely and find an empty table in a secluded corner. She sits down first then nods towards the empty seat. “Sit.”

Astarion doesn’t fancy being told what to do yet again. “Tell me now; are you actually going to explain or should I just walk away?”

In lieu of properly answering, Jaheira lets out a world weary sigh and instead asks, “You are aware that we now possess the Orphic Hanmer, yes?”

He rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should leave. “Yes, I’m aware. How is that relevant to this conversation?”

“You recall where it was being held?”

His patience is wearing thin. “The House of Hope; that devil, Raphael’s, domain. I was told you lot took care of him.”

“Indeed. Raphael was defeated by our hand when we tried to escape with the hammer,” Jaheira says plainly. “However, prior to that battle, there was an incubus, Haarlep. He agreed to help us, but it came with a steep price.”

He reaches for his dagger again. “Is he up there right now?”

She shakes her head. “No, fortunately not.”

“Then what are we even talking about?”

Jaheira has never been one to mince her words, something Astarion respected her for. So it isn’t a good sign if she hesitates before speaking. The elder woman clasps her hands together and rests them on top of the table. Still, she pauses first. “Haarlep gave us a code to a safe and the hammer in exchange for having his way with Tav.”

Astarion feels his stomach drop into the sewers. “What?” He bangs his fists on the table. “Why the hells didn’t you kill him?”

“Honestly, we weren’t around to stop it from happening,” she confesses. “Tav split off from the group at some point and by the time we found her, a deal was struck and the deed was done.”

He points towards the stairs. “That still doesn’t explain whatever that is.”

Again, she hesitates, which is very unsettling. “He is a shapeshifter, much like that bloodthirsty Orin girl. Whenever he uses Tav’s form to seduce someone, she can feel everything with her own body.” The High Harper scowls. “It seems he’s been using it quite frequently.”

Astarion comes to a horrific realization. He covers his face in shame for her and finally drops into the open seat. “So right now, he’s fucking somebody else as her?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. This is too much. This is too familiar. Cazador is dead. Cazador is gone. Astarion stabbed him himself. This isn’t even about him, it’s about her. That stupid, selfless woman. He always warned Tav that her acts of heroism and martyrdom would eventually bite her in the ass one day, but he never thought it would be something like this. This is so much worse. What was she thinking? Jaheira allows him some time to gather his thoughts. When he does, he lets his hands fall away. “And … how often does this happen?”

“If I had to guess, every few days.” She sighs yet again. “You know how she can be though. It could be more. It hasn’t happened during a fight.” There’s an implied yet that hangs heavily in the air.

By now, a few guests have started to trickle in. Their private conversation won’t be so private for much longer. “How is she? Really.”

Jaheira stands. “Well, with an incubus violating her body, a mind flayer invading her mind, and a vampire spawn who wished her dead, how do you think, Little Star?” She doesn’t give him the opportunity to answer. She just walks away and out the front door, leaving him to stew in his thoughts and emotions. Which can be perfectly summed up as what the fucking hells.

It doesn't take too long for the druid to descend the stairs. At the bottom, she scans the room and her eyes connect with a familiar red pair of eyes. For a split second, she breaks into the sunny smile she’s known for, but one look at his expression sours hers. Tav heads for the door.

“Tav!” Astarion scrambles up from the chair and chases her outside. “Wait!”

She does not wait. “They told you.” It’s not even a question.

He catches up and puts himself directly in front of her. “I was going to find out eventually.”

Tav starts stabbing him with her finger in the chest. “Hey, you don’t get to judge me. You weren't there and it was the only way that no one would get hurt and—”

He lets her do it. “Out of everyone here, I have the least right to judge you.”

She laughs, but the sound lacks any humor. “Out of everyone here, you’d have the most right to judge me.”

Astarion frowns at the accusation. “Why would I judge you at all?”

“Because I had a choice, and you didn’t.”

Technically, technically, she’s not wrong, but that doesn’t make this any less fucked up. “I’m not judging you, Tav.” Gods below, is this what it was like for her when she was trying to get him to open up? “Your body is being used in such a dirty, nefarious way against your will, the toll on your mind and body is unfathomable. I’m the only person here who truly understands that.”

“I’m fine.”

Her nonchalance on the subject is pissing him off, but a small voice (that sounds awfully close to hers) reminds him this isn’t about him. “No, you’re not.”

Tav crosses her arms. “You went through this for two hundred years. I’m not going to compare my tendays of discomfort to your literal centuries of torture.”

“By the Gods, Tav, it’s not a bloody pissing contest for trauma!” He wants to grab the druid and shake some sense into her. If the issue at hand was literally anything else, he would. “Whether it’s been happening for a day, a week, a month, or a thousand years, it’s a shit predicament for anyone.”

He notices her fists clenching and unclenching. She’s digging her nails into her palms. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

That’s a lie, plain and simple, but he won’t push the subject any further. From his own experience being on the other side of things, specifically during their discussions, it made him dig his heels in the dirt and shut down. Ironic how the tables have turned. “Alright,” he concedes. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m willing to lend an ear.”

Tav closes her eyes, takes a very deep breath, and lets it out very slowly and loudly. When she looks back at him, she seems slightly less frazzled. “Thanks, but I’m—”

“Fine?” he says with a smirk.

She snorts. “I am.”

“Of course you are.”

With an unimpressed eye roll, she pushes him away in jest. “I am, for the millionth time. Now drop it and let’s go. We’re already running behind.”

“Coming, dear.”

As they walk side by side, Astarion can’t help but wonder when he became the emotionally mature one in their friendship. The one attempting to crack open the shell of the other person. Ugh, he fucking hates it. Being the petty and bitter one is much easier. And yet he wants to try to be supportive and open. For her.

The things you do for love, right?

…

Thanks for reading!

[theoriginalspaceexpeditionist]

Treasure Planet Shorts: Scrapes

Kate shifted in her seat behind her stateroom desk that afternoon as she worked through a report regarding her last voyage. No matter how she adjusted her posture, she couldn't seem to get comfortable. Just as she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, hissing a bit under her breath, a knock came at her door.

"Come in," she beckoned, a little irate that someone was disturbing her when she'd specifically asked her first mate to keep any distractions away for the time being.

The door had hardly cracked open, however, before a blur of pink suddenly shot through the crack straight for her.

"Wha—? Morph?" Kate blinked as the protoplasm attacked her with licks. "What are you—? Jim!" Kate broke out into a wide grin as Jim laughed, approaching her desk.

"Hey, Kate. Surprise," he greeted. His hair was mussed up like he'd just been in a wind tunnel, his blue commander's coat disheveled. Kate stood up, carefully, before she circled the edge of her desk and caught Jim in an embrace, his arms slipping around her waist to hug her back.

"What are you doing here?" she smiled, pulling back some as Morph buzzed between the two of them. "Did you just arrive?"

"Yeah, our mission wrapped up a little early, and rather than Crescentia, we thought we'd report in at Port Ivy. The Doc asked if I could take a detour after our latest patrol because he's been working on something regarding the map scanner I found," Jim explained. "I didn't know you were here until the harbormaster mentioned the Pathfinder."

"I returned three days ago," Kate said, easing her arms down so that her hands rested on his forearms still circling her. "I was just finishing writing a report and planned to head to Mains to submit it. Is that where you're off to?"

Jim nodded, "I just dismissed the crew for a couple days of shore leave. I was going to meet Doctor Doppler and Onyx for lunch if you have a chance to join."

"If you're willing to give me ten minutes to finish this write-up, I'd love to," Kate beamed, about to turn away to scratch off a few more lines, when Jim stopped her, tugging her close once more and resting his forehead against hers.

"I missed you," he whispered as Kate's own eyes slipped closed, she leaning into him.

"I have you for a couple of days?" she asked.

"I'm not wasting a minute," Jim breathed, his hand catching her jaw as he drew her in for a kiss. He loved these moments when the stars aligned allowing he and Kate to just be. With their ongoing careers in the navy, any time span they had together had to be cherished in full. As Jim's lips met hers, Kate felt his hand that had been on her waist slide to her lower back, thumb making small circles there. She leaned into him, excited by the contact when something pulled suddenly on her side. A flare of pain flashed across her ribs causing her to gasp against his mouth.

Jim broke the kiss at once, blue eyes searching her amber ones as his brow furrowed.

"Kate?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Mph, nothing," Kate grunted, adjusting her stance as her hand automatically went for her side, clamping over it.

"It's not nothing," Jim argued, taking her elbow as he guided her toward the chair behind her desk. Morph who had been making teasing kissing faces at them, now released a nervous coo as he eased against Kate's cheek.

"I'm fine, really," she waved them both off. "Just a scrape."

"Kate, c'mon," Jim pressed.

Kate unbuttoned her coat and removed it, Jim taking it and draping it over the back of her chair while Kate explained, "We were tasked with clearing out a pirate base, and one of the fiends got a little close."

"How close?" Jim demanded as he knelt in front of her. "Can I see?"

Kate sighed, realizing her cover had been blown. She really hadn't wanted Jim to worry. As she said, she would be fine, but knowing Jim, he'd never let her leave the room until she showed him all of it. So, with some adjustment, Kate untucked her shirt and rolled it up just enough to reveal the array of stitches that ran the length of her lower ribs, the skin still red and angry. Jim's eyes widened before he shot her an unamused look.

"Just a scrape?" he parroted.

"A scrape! A scrape!" Morph giggled before sobering at Jim's look.

"My medical officer stitched it up, now it's just a matter of time before it heals," Kate said crisply. "You don't need to worry."

"I don't need to," Jim agreed. "But I will. It's called caring."

"You know what I mean," Kate huffed as a small smile danced at Jim's lips before it slipped once more.

"Are you sure you're okay? That looks like it hurts."

"It's not exactly the definition of fun if that's what you're asking, but I am alright. Truly."

Jim pressed his lips together before he nodded and got back to his feet while Kate lowered her shirt once more, grateful for the privacy of her cabin.

"I take it the other guy got it worse," Jim teased as Morph shifted into a pirate keeling over.

Kate chuckled, "Let's just say the score was evened."

Jim produced a faint smile, glad of it. Much as he knew Kate could handle herself, it was never easy to learn the people he cared about were in danger.

"I, uh, I guess I'll let you finish your report then. You probably don't need this squidge here as a distraction," Jim laughed, tickling Morph who shifted into a fish and attempted to squirt Jim's face with water. At the last minute, Jim ducked, eyes alight with playfulness. "Nice try!"

"Nice try! Nice try!"

"It would be ideal if you two could take this outside," Kate said pointedly just as Jim managed to snatch Morph out of the air, index finger swirling around Morph's little gelatinous body to tickle him once more.

Just as Kate tucked back in before her desk, she was taken aback as Jim leaned down once more and kissed her cheek.

"Be back in a bit, then," he assured her. "Don't hurt yourself while I'm gone."

"Ha-ha," Kate said dryly as Jim laughed again, stepping out with Morph in tow. Just as the door shut behind him, Kate allowed a slow warmth to drip over her insides, her face warm from the brush of his lips.

Shaking herself, Kate stared down at the paperwork before her.

"Right..." she trailed off, the pain of her injury momentarily forgotten in lieu of seeing Jim again. "Back to work."

[lildevyl]

Hey, Guys, Gals, Demons, Ghouls and Multi-Fandom Fiends!

This isn't a theory as a matter-of-fact it's going to be long but I need to get this out there. So, I have been on this decision for the past week. And here it is. So, we all know what's been going on with the whole William "Wilbur Soot" Gold situation that's been all over YouTube, Twitter, and just about any other Social Media Platform out there. I'm 100% behind Shelby/Shubble. I think she was very brave in coming out against what she experienced so, please go show her some support.

With that said, I know many people on here have either made the decision to either,

A) Orphaned or Delete their FanFics that have c!Wilbur Soot in them. If have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

B) Have decided to stop writing anything with c!Wilbur Soot in them. If you have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

C) Have decided to continue to write c!Wilbur Soot because it was never about the Content Creators, but the Characters that we, the fans, have created ourselves. If you have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

So, with that said, I'm sure many people have been wondering about what I'm going to do. Here's my decision on this.

What I'm going to do:

I'm going to continue to write. Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic is still going to be written. As selfish as this is going to sound, it was never about the Content Creator William "Wilbur Soot" Gold who owns the YouTube/Twitch Channel. But it was always, always, always, about the character he played. I love c!Wilbur Soot from the Earth SMP, Dream SMP, and Origins SMP. I even love the character he plays in Sorry Boys. And that's the Character I will be writing!

I know when I first joined the DSMP, it was already starting to go downhill. By that time, Covid was over, and the "Over Night Success" of the DSMP was over for a lot of fans. To the point, if you were still a fan of the DSMP during the Prison Arc and beyond then you were in the "So 5 Minutes Ago"/Cringe Territory. I also know that serval people have stopped writing, and got out of the DSMP/MCYT Community when Technoblade passed away. I can't blame them since many fans started watching the DSMP b/c of Techno and why bother watching something if the reason you even started is no longer there. I fully respect everyone's decision on that. And I know now that so many people will be leaving b/c of this being the "Last Nail in the Coffin" for a lot of people. Again I fully respect your decision if you decide to never write c!Wilbur Soot or just straight leave the Fandom entirely.

But I'm not. I'm not leaving. c!Wilbur Soot belongs to us fans and yes, this is 100% selfish of me, but I'll be damned if I let someone take away something that I find so much joy in doing! I've been writing FanFicion for the last 30 years and have been posting for the last 20 years.

I've been in many different fandoms and yes, many of them have had pretty toxic gatekeeping fans. But for once with the DSMP, I actually felt well safe for my writing. I didn't have to worry about if I was writing the Character right or not.

So, with that said, Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic is still underway! I have a few more chapters already written but it's going to be a major story and for once, I'm fucking motivated to finish this! For once, I'm not four to five chapters in and can't seem to figure out what to write b/c I'm so stuck on what others kept telling me how to write certain characters. But with this, no one's doing that. I want to write to these Characters how I want to write them!

I am NOT supporting the Content Creator! This has always been about the Characters. As far as I'm concerned, William "Wilbur Soot" Gold can go step on a pile of Legos for all I care!

However, with Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic, it's going to be until Summer that I will be able to fully start to update again. Right now, I think I'm just going to concentrate on School since my class started a month ago. And I might be focusing on other Writing/Art Projects until then.

So, when Summer hits, expect to see updates for Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic! Until then, Guys, Gals, Demons, Ghouls and Multi-Fandom Fiends! I'll see you later! HAPPY CREATING!

[unreadpoppy]

song as old as rhyme - chapter 3

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

A/N: I'm so nervous about this chapter but it's here. Also part 4 might take some time cause I have the idea for what to do but I need to write it down, so hang on tight. Anyways, I think we're finally done with the set up!

While it was still nighttime, on the 8th day that Audifax hadn’t returned, Elize ran the streets of her town, heading straight to Mr.Antoine’s home. She knew this wasn’t appropriate but if there was anyone who could help her, it was the old librarian. 

She knocked on his door several times until he finally opened. 

“Mr. Antoine! I’m sorry to wake you but I -” Elize began speaking rapidly, until she was interrupted. 

“Goodness gracious girl, can’t you wait till morning?” He grumbled, eyeing her up and down  and it was then that Elize remembered she was still in her night clothes. 

“I-” 

“Get inside, before you catch a cold” He got out of the way and allowed her to enter his home. 

Although Mr. Antoine was a dwarf, his home was rather large and tall. He once mentioned it was due to his ex-wife being a human as the reason, but he didn’t like talking about that. 

When Elize tried to start talking again, he raised one hand up. “Hold a second, young lady. Go sit down while I make some tea and then you can tell me what’s so urgent.” She nodded her head and did as he told her.

The girl went to the living room and sat on the couch, but she struggled to stay calm. She kept shifting in her seat, crossing and uncrossing legs, and she began to bite her nails. As Elize did that, she looked straight ahead, her eyes focused on the wall, while her mind replayed the nightmares she had had. 

Suddenly, she felt wrinkled hands remove her fingers from her mouth and put a teacup between her hands. She nodded her head, as a thank you. Before she took a sip, Elize blew the cup a bit, just like her parents had taught her to do with hot drinks. 

“Now, tell me, child, what is bothering you?” Mr. Antoine asked, sitting next to her on the couch. 

She took a deep breath and said “Father’s missing.”

“What?” He made a face of disbelief. 

“He told he was going to Baldur’s Gate for some business, and that he’d be back in a week’s time, but it’s been 8 days and nothing, and I had a terrible nightmare and I feel like he’s in danger and-” 

“Breathe, Elize, breathe.” He put a hand on her back, rubbing it up and down. Elize took another sip of the tea. “What did you dream about?”

“My dad, kneeling in front of this man, begging for something, and then he was engulfed in flames and I could hear him scream.”

“What did the man look like?”

Elize closed her eyes, remembering what she saw. “He was sitting on a chair. He looked human, brown eyes and hair, with a few wrinkles on his face and a stubble. He had a smirk on as he talked to father, and he was dresses in fine clothes, like the ones nobles wear ” 

Antoine looked terrified. “Oh no, this is no good news.”

“What do you mean?” Elize put the tea cup down and faced the old man. 

He took both of her hands in his. “Listen carefully. I believe your father might be dealing with a cambion and a powerful one at that.”

“What?”

“This description, it fits the one of a cambion named Raphael. If what you saw in your dreams is true, your father is in serious danger.”

Elize furrowed her brows. She didn’t understand what any of this meant. “But… what even is a cambion?” 

Mr. Antoine let go of her hands and walked away, coming back shortly with a huge book in hands. Elize got up and helped open it on the table. He started flipping through pages until stopping on one with two drawings. One of a human person and the other of a devil. 

“They are the offspring of a devil with a human. Don’t be fooled by their human disguise, they are just as evil as any other fiend.” 

Her eyes skimmed through the pages while Mr. Antoine continued. “If you want to save your father, you’ll have to go to Baldur’s Gate.”

“But I- I’ve never gone outside the village. I don’t even know how to get there!”

Mr. Antoine once again left and came back with a rolled up scroll. He opened it and it showed a map showing the way to the city. “You can use this map to guide yourself and once you get there, you ask the people for directions.” 

Elize’s eyes were blown wide and she was struggling to breath. This whole situation was a nightmare in itself. Dealing with a fiend was bad enough, but the idea of leaving the comfort of her home to unknown lands was even worse. And having to talk with strangers didn’t make it better. 

She began to ask herself if she had done something to upset some god. 

“I…I…” She was speechless. Antoine put a hand on her cheek. 

“I understand this is difficult for you, but you must go, unless your father’s soul is doomed forever.”

“No!” She shouted. “I’ll…I’ll go. I have to.” She gulped. “But I don’t have a horse.”

“I can have that arranged for you.” He rolled up the map again and handed it to her. “Now, go back home, and pack your things. When morning comes, meet me at the gates.” 

Elize nodded her head and got up. She walked towards the door and opened it, the chill night air passing through her. They said their goodbyes and she headed home. 

‘Don’t worry, dad.’ She thought. ‘I’ll get you back home.’ 

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

One week ago. 

A man unknown to the city arrived at a brothel named Sharess Caress. 

When approached by the drow twins who owned the place, he said he had business with a certain Raphael. They led him to a room called ‘Devil’s Den’. The human gulped, as he knew this wasn’t a good sign. 

And still, against his better judgment, he walked in. 

It was a simple deal, really.

“I will give you 10,000 gold pieces for you to go to the gambling house a few streets from here.” Raphael explained. “There, you shall make your own fortune. Double, triple, what I’ve given you and in exchange, seven days from now, you’ll pay me back what I am owed.” He paused. “You are, of course, allowed to keep the rest that you earn.” 

“And what if I fail?” The human asked. 

Raphael made a face of fake concern, while giving him a pouch containing the money. “Don’t be so pessimistic, my friend. You will pay me.” With that, he got closer to the older man, a smirk forming on his face as his eyes darkened. “If it’s with your money or your soul is what is yet to be seen.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving a smell of sulphur in the air. 

[imaginespazzi]

Hi bestie 🥰

Sorry it took me a lil while to check in but I wanted to make sure I formed some sensical thoughts after reading part 1! Although, this might actually all be non-sensical because I’m still reeling from it all and I’m nowhere near as articulate but anyway, here goes (side note: am I listening to if the world was ending while writing this? you bet I am):

WOW WOW WOW, the beginning? My heart broke immediately and as the biggest angst fiend, I was like oh- this- this is gonna be immaculate I already know.

And of course it was. OF COURSE IT WAS.

The photos of them on the wall?? And Paige’s realisation of how much she fucked up cos Azzi never once let go even though Paige ignored her for a WHOLE FUCKING YEAR!!!

The flashback to when Azzi broke the UCLA news to Paige; yeah you ATE that. I know you said you might take inspiration from my suggestion and that’s pretty much how it played out in my mind, only your version was a hundred thousand times better- like the talent is just unmatched.

Paige’s first reaction being “BUT YOU NAMED YOUR DOG STEWIE!!!!” Is so fucking real lmao, I laughed and cried.

Nika standing ten toes down for her twin always, I respect it.

And Jealous Paige? Yeah my favourite trope fr ✊ (also the fact that she already got jealous of carol of all ppl?? lmao, i can't even imagine how she'd react to seeing Azzi with someone that's actually into her 😭)

And then the ending?? You’re sick for that cos see now that’s all I’ll be thinking about until we get the next part (making your fics my roman empire? it’s only fair)

Thoughts on what might come next (which you should totally ignore if it's not what you have in mind bcos again, your brain >>> my pea-sized brain):

Imma need Paige to suffer a lot bit LMAO, like sorry to her but girlie deserves to pay for freezing out princess FOR A YEAR.

Like I know that’s the love of your life Azzi babygirl, but you better make blondie work. beg. grovel.

I also feel like Azzi’s teammates wouldn’t be so accepting of Paige straight away? They’d be super protective of Azzi cos like that’s pookie, who wouldn’t be?? And they were the ones who witnessed just how much she was hurting during her freshman year and how often she waited for a call that never came, so yeah Paige really gonna have to prove herself 😌

Anyhooo, to sum it up, you outdid yourself and then some bestie. Your stories genuinely give me the best escape from reality and I cannot express how thankful I am for you taking the time and effort to write masterpieces like that for us.

Oh finally, the tagline for the story being "everything changes, except the ending" - pure genius, in my humble opinion.

Until next time 💗

-🙋‍♀️ (I’ve decided to fully stick to this as my signature)

Hi bestieeee, I'm so, so, so, glad you liked it. Like I wanted everyone to like it of course, but you especially, it's very important to me that you like it.

Bestie, you helped so much with how Azzi would reveal it/Paige's reaction, like so much of that is your brain work, I just put it into words and I'm glad it turned out how you imagined it.

Lmao I wanted Paige's initial reaction to be so random and I was like WAIT, how is she going to bring a dog named Stewie to UCLA (again more proof that it was always gonna be UConn for her).

Jealous Paige is my favorite version of Paige because it's a) really fun to write and b) really hot to imagine. And it's only going to get worse for her.

Nika needs to be team Paige because I fear Azzi's teammates are about to be menaces to her and not in a good way.

I was actually gonna end it with Azzi running out and then have none of the stuff outside but I think it was important for them to have that conversation and I wanted them to kiss teehee

My current (loose) summary for the next part in terms of plot is "Azzi goes on a date and Paige goes insane" so trust bestie, blondie will in fact suffer. 😈

Always so happy to see you babe, come back with more suggestions or just to ki-ki whenever. 💗💗💗

[missacidburn928]

Feeling Sneaky Peeky...

I'm in a bit of a writing slump this week (due to a book hangover). So I felt I'd share a peek into one of my WIP's from one of my ongoing series. Today I felt like sharing from Sandalwood, Leather, Mead & Honey. My Thor/Bucky/Steve Rogers x POC!Singer!Reader "Honey" series.

Under the cut you'll find a sneak peek for installment 5: (divider by @firefly-graphics)

I'm a sucker for a shot of dopamine straight to the bloodstream

Fiending for Honey GC

Thor: Video attachment (Honey with a drunken Val dancing and singing to Bohemian Rhapsody on the bar. Getting the whole Asgardian filled tavern to sing along at the top of their lungs. Seems you've got the whole place to harmonize and are directing them like a chorus. It's a magnificent watch.)

Steve: Is she on the bar?

Bucky: More importantly is V dancing AND singing with her on it?

Thor: She has the entire Tavern under her spell.

Bucky: As they should be. Enticing little thing. Wish we were there instead of stuck doing all this press crap.

Steve: I'm usually happy doing press but I think I may be coming down with some FOMO.

Thor: What is FOMO??

Bucky: Fear Of Missing Out.

Thor: Understood. 

Steve: Enjoy your time at home with her Thor.

Bucky: Because once you make it back home she’s not leaving our side for days. Gonna make her the filling in a super soldier sandwich. 

Thor: You’ll find no objections here. I’ll more than make sure to get my fill while I have her to myself.

Steve: Don’t go too overboard. We need her to be able to at least walk.

Bucky: Actually I’m fine if she needs to be carried around.

Steve: Smh. It’s time for us to get back to doing interviews. Give our girl extra love from us.

Bucky: And an extra swat on the ass from me specifically.

“May we sing for your fallen? It would be our honor to offer a tribute.” You kindly ask the grieving widow sat idly at a table surrounded by loved ones. 

The maiden looks to Thor sitting at the head of the table before answering. “It would be an honor to receive such an offering, milady.”

You whisper into Sy’s ear the song you wish to sing as you make your way over to the small altar set up for the fallen warrior. You take a deep breath, squeeze his hand and begin to sing. 

Carry me home when the light in my eyes does fade Carry me home when the shadow comes to take me away Lay down my bones knowing I'll be in a better place Release my soul, carry me home Carry me home there's no sorrow down in the ground Carry me home don't you weep for I am freedom bound Lay down my bones there is peace within the light I've found Release my soul, carry me home

By now the tavern has filled with the rhythmic tapping of Stein’s on wood, keeping beat with Sy’s fist drumming against his chair. Your eyes are closed and you let the music take over. It sounds very close to something Thor would have grown up hearing when honoring their fallen warriors. 

He can’t take his eyes off of you, once again a siren in her element. Offering the gift of her voice to escort the fallen on their journey to the afterlife. It was the final piece he needed to see before he formally asks for your hand in marriage.

It is not long now, until your hand is fasted with mine. I will need to discuss this with Rogers and Barnes first, but fear not, you will become not only be my Queen but New Asgards as well.

Song:

[freshie44]

Disventure Camp All Stars Finale Spoiler

Alright a season in the can let take a stock and let me given my opinions on the use of all the characters this season

The Great

Ashley came out shining this season, she got to last longer was shown to be very competent and beat the jobber allegations from Season 1. If you are an Ashley your happy to see your girl be treated as the threat you believed she would've been I was a doubter on the Yul & Grett story line, I won't pretend I wasn't. Though Grett really shined and honestly she got snubbed for the finale. I think she quite over performed and was a bright spot during the late episodes. Good, I guess

Tess got more screen time and was important several arcs before her elimination. I came out feeling something about her and hey that something more than S2. Tom was shaky at the start but he had an alright back half dealing with his nonsense and I did like him being a challenge fiend and in the finale so hey good on him. Yul got time to really shine as a villain, he got some good lines and moments and hey we all loved seeing him eat shit. Good use. Conner almost went into Mix Bag but but he got screen time, storylines, and character dynamics with the others. Did he regress that one episode, yes. Did it feel like a slap in the face, yes! but overall I think there was more good than bad. Mix Bag

Aiden I feel had some good moments and he was important to plot points but like it feel like there was more. Not 100% sure, but it felt like his story was in the service to Jake's and not really his own showing and I think he could have a stronger role in this season. Ally, man she made finals and had some good stuff but it didn't feel like she got finalist screentime. Did she have a strong show late, maybe. But man she wasting away before that and the wishy washy writing when she was being a flip flopper in my opinion wasn't great. Maybe that an opinion thing, but I still feel nothing strong about her and that a failure for a top 3 member.

Gabby had a great post merge, but before merge she had no screentime! Like literally nothing for like 9 episode straight and that not right for a popular character like Gabby! If she had more easy spot in the upper tiers but with what we got it a mixbag.

Jake, he need at least one moment of being a strong player, he can't be choker early, mid, and late. He had good character moments but for a finalist in ALL STARS, did he really have an All Star performance or was it a lot of interesting choices and making a lot of unnecessary rivals and haters.

Oh Alec, my beloved. You were robbed, great early and mid performance but that late game UGH. So much missed opportunities!

Ellie as a player was interesting and I think she was a good inclusion but just kind left a wish for more than what she did get. But we at least got some stuff and that saves her from being wasted.

The Wasted

Fiore was here, and hey she at least made up with Alec. But I can't really remember anything besides leave Yul speechless in the first episode as a standout Fiore moment. Hunter S2 was a challenge monster. S3 Hunter was an idiot who loss a feud to a child and was in a middling storyline. Kind of a waste if you ask me. Lake sure was in this season, and if that all I have to say that a god damn shame. Miriam & James were former champion and had to be here but they did pretty very little in the grand scheme of things.

Riya Tier

Oh boy the big dawg got her win, she Miss Main Event, the ALL STAR, The first villain to win. But who cares, who really celebrating a Riya win when we could of had a Grett win, an Alec win, an Ellie win, or even a Fiore win if we want a Villain to win. You could of even crafted a new villain for the win, because besides Yul, she was the villain we discounted from the running the most, and at least Yul was entertaining. All Riya did was give us the most boring winner story out of the final 3. Congratulations Riya, you help made me lose part of my hype for Disventure Camp. You were forced like Roman Reign instead of organically and see you win was the wet fart it was when WWE tried to do it with be pre tribal chief Roman Reigns.

[moseslikellamas]

Cinders in the Dark pt.9

Pairing - Benjicot Blackwood x Whent!OC

Summary - Following a harrowing accident, Lucinda demands answers of the Blackwood Lord to varied results.

Warnings - Magic, delusions, trickery, frightening imagery, forced marriage, mentions of death, blood, mention of suicidal ideation,depiction of burns, depictions of panic attack, anxious thoughts, grief, not canon, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2.5k

Surprise! To me and to you, I was not intending to write this today. But here we are anyway!

Time stopped making sense for Lucinda. She writhed in bed, feeling the lick of flames over her body. At times she could see the burning man in the corner of her room. It had always been there , usually just out of her sight. Maddeningly it was there and not there. That changed when she came back from her escape attempt. She could see its horrible lidless eyes, half melted and dripping, staring straight into her soul. It was his fault she had been burned, she'd decided. The sword had caught flame and burned her. Who else but this wretched fiend would wield such magic? Though she was not discounting the Lord Blackwood, who appeared periodically. She would hiss at the sight of him every time he appeared but he kept returning anyway. When he came this time, she resolved to ask him a question or two. He hadn’t been burned by the sword and that didn’t make any sense to her. Did he know the burning man? Was he the burning man?

The rattle of bones in the corner made every hair on her body stand up. He’d had muscles and tendons the last time she looked at him. It took every fiber of her concentration not to look at the horrid thing wanting her attention. Her good hand clutched the sheets and her jaw was tight at the effort. It had never spoken to her but she got the sense that were she to look at it right now, that would change. Her skin felt prickly and the walls pulsed in a grotesque way that matched the frantic beating of her heart.

A light knock sounded at her door and she was thankful for once when the wood melted away to reveal her captor. She was shivering, though she was not cold. She was sweaty and uncomfortable at his entrance despite her relief at banishing the bag of bones haunting her. She focused on not hissing at the man while he changed the bandage on her hand. Though she swore he rubbed something on the new bandages, she allowed him to wrap her hand with it. He was as quiet as he always was, saying nothing. She wondered what was going on in his head, if he had thoughts. Maybe he was like any predator and thought only of being.

“There’s a burning man that follows me around. He gave me that sword.”

The only indication he heard her was the slide of his eyes to meet hers. A chill went through her under his gaze. Then he reached up to place his hand on her head and she let him, warily eyeing him the whole time.

“You have a fever.” His voice was disembodied and husky. She never saw his lips move, just heard the words from somewhere far off.

“I might have a fever but there is a burning man. His eyes are half melted, gave me that bramble crown too.” She insisted, growing irritated with his casual attitude.

“You should sl-“

“Stop!” She cut him off, scowling.

It had become clear to her that he had some power of suggestion over her and she did not want to sleep right now. She wanted some fucking answers, real and detailed ones.

“I don’t need any more sleep, thanks anyway.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips. “I want you to explain what the fuck is going on here!”

Her desk had been disturbed, she could see that now as he leaned against it. Had he been snooping through her things?

“You’re not well. We should talk some other-“

“We’ll talk now.”

The two of them stared at each other equally annoyed. She wanted to sit up further as she was only propped up on pillows. She was frustrated that he was standing, or rather half leaning on her desk, while she was stuck laying down. After an intense staredown that lasted longer than it should have, he relented.

“Fine. What do you want to kn-“

“Where is my father?”

He sighed and then walked around the desk to pull out her chair, sitting in it before answering. She watched in contempt, silently fuming. He could lay claim to anything in this castle, except anything inside this room. His casual use of her things made her irrationally angry. Of course he saw her stuff as his, they were married. She was simply property like everything else here.

“Your father is dead, though I think you already knew that.”

She had begun to suspect her father was dead but she was holding out hope anyway. She didn’t pause to let the information sink in though. She couldn’t bear to process it, so she barreled into her next question.

“What does the crown think of this whole ordeal?”

She maintained eye contact with him the entire time, hardly blinking as she tried to gather a read on the man.

“The crown is busy at the present moment with much bigger issues.”

“And if I managed to get word out to them?”

His countenance then was for the first time smug. “Not a worry I have.”

Inside she felt like she was burning, like she could rip her own skeleton out to reveal flaming bones. Her combined frustration and helplessness grew at his self assured words. But she swallowed the rage threatening to consume her and moved on to another topic.

“Why did that sword not burn you in the woods?”

That wiped the smug look off of his face to her satisfaction.

“You shouldn’t have tried to leave.”

She rolled her eyes, wishing she could throw both hands up but settling for one. “You shouldn’t have stormed the castle. You shouldn’t force people into isolation after you murder their family. You shouldn’t wander around like a fucking creepy specter. We all have flaws. How about you make one your strengths answering the gods damned question?”

He regarded her silently, expression once again unreadable. She was getting really tired of being confused all of the time. Now she would carry the scars of that confusion forevermore.

“You’re not allowed to leave. Remember the cut I gave you during the wedding?”

She nodded, dread gripping her tightly as she began to understand what had happened. “You’re doing blood magic?”

He didn’t answer her but she hadn’t really said it to him. She knew the Blackwoods made sacrifices to the weirwood trees and that the lord in front of her was a skin changer. But blood magic rituals were a different matter, especially when it was her blood he was using. He’d evidently bound her to the castle grounds and that’s why she wasn’t able to leave. It didn’t explain the sword bursting into flames. She glared at him, still unhappy with what she knew.

“What about the sword?”

He stood now and she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything else. As he began to walk away from her she groaned in frustration.

“You can’t keep me in the dark forever!”

He turned back to her as he opened the door, she could barely make out his form behind the curtains of her bed. She could hear him perfectly clear though, as if he were right beside her.

“You should sleep.”

Darkness enveloped her completely then. The irony was not lost on her as she drifted off into unconsciousness

***

When Lucinda woke she felt mostly fine. She could see from her window that it was still dark out though she could not discern the time beyond that. Her hand throbbed much less this time around and she saw no sign of the crackling bones in the corner of the room. Both were a relief. She hadn’t been awake a full five minutes before Lord Blackwood knocked on her door.

She knew it was him and considered sending him away. But he brushed into the room without waiting for her to reply either way. She longed to see any other face than the one staring down at her from the foot of her bed.

“And what do you want this time?” She snapped, tired of his piercing eyes and silent mouth.

“You need to get up.”

“You have such a way with words. Incredible bedside manner, truly. Give up the sword, you’re wasted in the field.”

He stared at her a moment longer. “Do you feel better now? Can you answer me or have you got another quip?”

Her cheeks burned faintly with embarrassment and stubbornly she doubled down.

“As a matter of fact, I do have another. Why don’t you jump out of that window really quick, I’ve attached it to the second to last brick at the bottom of the wall. You can’t miss it on your way down.”

He walked around her bed as she spoke, causing her tone to pitch up in fear as she went on. By the time he reached her at the head, her heart was racing.

“Either I can assist you out of the bed or I can assist you out of the bed.”

“Any variation between the two?” She was pushing her luck but what did she have to lose anymore? He needed her, enough not to openly kill her. And that meant she could be as annoying as she wanted.

“Quality of care.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, whatever. Do you want to annoy me to death slowly over time? Cause I promise, I’m okay with a quick demise.”

She swung her good leg out of the bed and grasping the lord's hand she slowly began to pull herself upright. The pain was not unbearable but still there throbbing to life the second she moved. She gasped, breathing heavily, once she finally stood up completely.

“Not true. You came back from the watery halls.”

She had almost forgotten he was there in her effort to stand. She shuddered at his words, remembering the icy cold void that longed to have her in its clutches again. Slowly they began to walk across her room, back and forth.

“Please don’t remind me of that place. It wants me back, you know.”

He frowned at that, asking, “Do you feel the cold again?”

She shrugged. “I kind of always feel it.”

She was winded and tired from the few laps they did around the room. So he led her back over to the bed, though she was loath to return.

“Can I not see anyone else? Surely a handmaiden could come in to help me wash.”

“How cold do you feel exactly?” He ignored her question completely.

Huffing as she dragged herself back under the covers she said, “I don’t know! It’s just a sliver, deep inside me. Now about that handmaid?”

He looked deep in thought at her words. “Does it feel as if you left a piece of yourself behind?”

Now she groaned, he wasn’t listening to her at all!

“Look man, you send someone to their death they aren’t supposed to come back. You did this. I don’t know what to tell you but I would appreciate a bath. So if you could send someone in, that would be great.”

His eyes met hers again and she wanted so badly to pitch him out the window. He was shadow staining her life, he shouldn’t be here.

“No one else is coming. Help yourself or wait it out.”

She did not gape at him or even tense her jaw in anger. A thousand insults filtered through her mind in a second, each more devastating than the last. But instead she sat very still and engaged him in his silent showdown. She would manage on her own and then she would start exploring the castle again. There was only one way to figure this mess out and it involved that sept beneath the ground. He couldn’t watch her every minute of every day.

“What’s your game, Blackwood?” She didn’t expect him to answer in any capacity. She just couldn’t stop herself from asking. Nothing he did made any sense to her and rarely did his words clear any of it up either.

“If you make it out of bed, come and find me.”

When the door slammed close behind him the air grew ten, fifteen, twenty degrees hotter. A crackling and snapping noise rattled from the far corner of the room. Worst of all were the shadows thrown by the raging blaze of flames to her left. She had no choice but to turn her head and confront the flayed man.

He was there just as she expected but oddly enough, he was covered in armor. She could see where the metal grew white hot in places from the flames underneath. He was baking inside that armor and somehow it was worse than seeing the muscle and sinew. Other bits of the armor glowed red from the heat but the sword in his hand was melting, dripping molten metal on the stone floors. Then the clank and shuffle of metal could be heard as it lumbered towards her. The sounds of burning flesh intensified the closer it grew and she found herself wishing it were all bones today instead. A funny thought in a hollow way, which burning horror would you prefer today? Would you rather it be fleshy or calcified?

She still didn’t know if the thing was real or imagined. Surely real as it had given her tangible gifts. But how could it be real? And why wouldn’t Lord Blackwood acknowledge it? The last question was of less consequence as she thought he just enjoyed being difficult. She wanted to ask the witch in the tall tower but she had not heard a single whisper of her since she last spoke with her about the Lord. Whether it was real or not was of less importance to her when it was standing a foot away from her bed, the sound of sizzling flesh fresh in her ears.

She waited tensely in anticipation of its actions. Every muscle in her body was coiled intensely, ready to move at a moment's notice. But the thing just stood there, melting sword in hand. She felt compelled to hold her own sword against all reason and logic. The feeling grew to such a pitch she could not ignore it and so she dragged herself out of bed. She walked past the blistering armor and grabbed her sword from its spot on her desk. The moment she held it in her hands she turned to face the knight, both holding their swords at the ready. Inexplicably they moved towards each other until at last steel on steel, the world shifted and bent around them.

Lucinda felt dizzy and disoriented, the clash of steel was still ringing in her ears. But everywhere she looked the image in front of her was wrong. The knight was upside down or was it her that was upside down? Nothing was where it was meant to be and somehow their swords were still clashing together. Time grew thin and weak again.

[rejectofsociety]

idk how you feel about ednancy, but could you do a little rockstar!eddie x college student!nancy blurb please? I really like your writing

flatter works on me, dear anon. I will literally write anything if you’re nice to me. hope this is alright, I had way too much fun writing it. also putting it here on Ao3!

Of all the Corroded Coffin album covers, Nancy really adores this one. Not just because she’s in it, but because of the way she smiles in it— and Eddie is mirroring the little, suppressed smile.

She remembers when the photo was taken and, with Eddie’s lips and teeth tickling her neck, she couldn’t keep a straight face. There were giggles she tried to fight back, but then Eddie would chuckle, and they would both burst into laughter, like they were so funny.

The idea was to drape Nancy in red robes and gold jewelry— to dress her like a queen— with her hands laced through Eddie’s wild and untamed mane. Not to paint her as a damsel in distress having fallen victim to a beast— although her back was arched and head was tilted back as such— but to portray her as the queen of hell, having seduced the king. The king being Eddie, in tattered black garbs and steel rings and chains decorating his body. With his body hunched over hers and his arms wrapped around her waist, he was designed to be the king of hell having completely given into his seductress.

But, they couldn’t do it. Not because they didn’t want to, but because Eddie kept muttering “are we done yet?” Which made Nancy giggle— which made him say it again. And because his warm lips tickled her cold, sensitive skin and he kept lightly nipping at her neck, just to make her squirm.

So, by the time they finally gave up, there was nothing seductive or royal about the image. Instead of hell’s royalty, the pair appeared more like devilish fiends— the lowlifes— who just got away with some sort of mischief. With smiling lips they tried to hide, they looked simply like a couple happy to be together. Not as if they’re trying to get something from each other, but like they’re excited to show their love for each other.

It’s a perfect picture— Nancy’s favorite Corroded Coffin cover. She keeps it by her bedside and has a shirt with the image printed boldly on it. While she rarely wears the shirt out and about, she wears it on nights like these— when she really misses Eddie.

With the shirt being two sizes too large for her, she tucks her knees inside it as she curls up on her bed. Her head buried in a book, the dorm room is perfectly silent, seeing as her chatty roommate is spending the night who knows where. While usually she prefers the quiet as she reads, this is too quite. So, she sits up, setting the book off to the side as she reaches for her Walkman.

But, she pauses when she’s met with a faint tapping sound. Five taps in a rhythmic pattern that makes her brow furrow and her head tilt to the side. The same pattern Eddie used to tap on her window before sneaking inside late at night.

“I’m losing my mind,” Nancy scoffs to herself, shaking her head.

Smile still faint on her lips with fond memories, she picks up her Walkman. More than anything right now, she wants to hear Eddie’s voice. While the gentle hum of the low voice he used as he was careful not to alert anyone of his presence is what she craves— the roar of his singing will do.

But, before she can slip on her headphones, there it is again: the tapping. Five taps, in the same rhythm.

“What the fuck,” she whispers to herself, brow knit tightly together.

Habitually, she sets the Walkman and her book off to the side and slides off the bed. And just like she did so many years ago, she paces over to the window— although it’s too dark for her to really see through it— and slides it open.

“Eddie!” She gasps with wide eyes.

As he stands on the small space of the fire escape, Eddie leans through the window and lands an eager kiss on her lips. Just like that, the rest of the world is snatched away, and she melts into his warm lips. One of her hands wanders to his cup his cheek, and he rests his hand on top of hers, stroking her skin lightly with his thumb.

Then, she pulls away and steps back to gawk at her boyfriend, “Eddie,” she hisses, “what the hell are you doing?”

Tucking his hands into his jacket sleeves with his shoulders so tense they’re almost raised to his ears, Eddie requests, “before I explain, it’s really cold out. Can I-“

“Get in here,” she steps back and he exhales sharply in relief, making his breath visible and swirl in a cloud.

He takes hold of the windowsill then slips inside, taking Nancy’s hand to hold himself steady— although he doesn’t need it. The moment his feet hit the shag carpet, Eddie slips his hands under Nancy’s shirt and wraps his arms around her torso.

She lets out a soft gasp at the iciness of his hands as they cradle her back. The leather of his jacket is cold against her skin, making her shudder as she buries her face in his chest and slides her arms under his jacket. She feels Eddie bury his face— cheeks bitten by the cold— into the crook of her neck, and he gives a heavy sigh of relief.

“Mmph, that’s better,” he hums, his breath tickling her neck.

“Good,” she lays her head on his collarbone, breathing in the sweet scent of marijuana that clings to his clothing. “Now what are you doing on my fire escape—“ she pushes herself away from him so he can see the interrogative look on her face “—on the third floor, while you’re supposed to be on tour.”

“Well, you see, officer,” Eddie nags lightheartedly, then laughs as Nancy scrunches her nose at him and gives his shoulder a little shove.

Running his fingertips along her arm, he continues more seriously, “the gang and I left the last city an hour early. I figured since I had a little extra time, and we’d be in the area, I could use that extra hour to say hello to my beautiful, beautiful girlfriend.”

Nancy presses her lips into a thin smile, trying to avoid a goofy grin, “you left early so you could see me?”

“Psh, I never said that,” Eddie scoffs in a way that makes it all too obvious that’s exactly what he did.

Rolling her eyes, Nancy takes his hands in hers and pulls him towards her. She stands on the tips of her toes and presses a kiss to his cold lips. Maybe it’s just lingering ghosts of the Upside Down, but she swears his lips haven’t felt as warm as they did before he died there.

But she won’t let herself think about that. Even as she ousts herself from the kiss to see the pale, twisted scarring on his cheek and neck.

“Now, why didn’t you just go through the front door?” She questions gently, brushing his overgrown hair out of his eyes.

“For old times’ sake,” he replies, a victorious and mischievous grin painting his lips.

Nancy arches her eyebrows with a short laugh, “how did you even get up here?”

His playful grin grows wider and he shrugs nonchalantly, “does it matter?

Nancy folds her arms across her chest in an attempt to be stubborn. But, Eddie only mocks her stance and leans back slightly, looking down his nose at her and still baring that stupid smile.

If there’s anything dating Eddie has taught her, it’s not to over-question things and to accept the unorthodox. So, she holds out her arms, accepting that whatever bizzarre spider-monkey shit he pulled to get to her fire escape quite frankly doesn’t matter.

Satisfied, Eddie embraces her and lands a few icy kisses on the side of her neck. Wrapping her arms around his back, Nancy sighs and practically melts into his touch. She feels his hands trail down her spine and trace the curves of her thighs.

“Eddie,” she breathes with a light chuckle, lacing her fingers through his hair.

“You know,” he says, heaving her off the ground and she wraps her legs around his waist, “I gotta little problem.”

“Yeah?” Nancy lets him carry to her bed where he lays her on the mattress, “what is it?”

“I was writing a song this morning-“

She furrows her brow, “shouldn’t you be focused on the tour?”

“Hey,” he arches his eyebrows at her as he props himself up with a hand by her head, giving himself the perfect view to admire her, “I can’t control when I get inspiration. Now, I’m writing this song and I cannot— for the life of me— think of anything that rhymes with angel.”

“Angel?” Nancy props herself up with her elbow, “not exactly your usual material.”

He shrugs, his eyes flickering up and down her face, “trying something new.”

Nancy hums thoughtfully, reaching up to trace the shapes of his face, “well, what’s the song about?”

Eddie presses a kiss to her fingers as they outline his lips, then explains, his eyes never leaving hers, “it’s about a barbarian with a pretty face—“

Nancy’s chest swells with that cliche yet painfully true swarm of butterflies.

“—she’s got a smile that makes your heart race,” he continues, his voice almost sing-songish, “she’s got a heart so kind, it livens up my dying mind.”

Cheeks warm and tinged with pink, Nancy soaks in the sight of him. His breath is smokey as it washes over her face while his eyes are wild and full of a fire that will never fade— even if he dies (and he has). But between the flames, and quite possibly the fuel that keeps them burning, is a passion and adoration that runs deep— for Nancy.

While’s she’s always been quick on her feet, Eddie’s eyes alone have always tripped her up. And his words, like poetry when he’s not even trying, can stop her in her tracks completely. It’s ridiculous after years spent together, he can get her tongue tied and heart skipping beats like a school girl.

“And where does the angel come in?” Nancy asks after too long of a pause.

“I went through hell, and found an angel,” he utters, then tilts his head to the side with his brow furrowed, “or does that sound stupid?”

“I like it,” Nancy quickly assures, cupping his cheek in her palm.

“Mm, good.”

He ducks his head and lays a warm, embracing kiss on her lips. Nancy’s hand finds it’s way to his shoulder and she pulls him closer, and he settles his body on top of hers.

“Devil.”

Nancy says it rather suddenly as she ousts herself from the kiss.

Knitting his eyebrows together, Eddie leans away from her.

“Hey now-“ he frowns.

Nancy laughs slightly as she strokes his cheek, “no, I mean I think you can rhyme devil with angel.”

Eddie looks off to the distance, rolling the words around in his mind. Nancy watches the calculative look in his eyes, seeing the gears turn. Then something clicks and his eyebrows raise as he meets her gaze again.

“Well shit, I think it works.”

She beams at him, pecking his smiling lips, “I can’t wait to hear it. But I really want you to focus on this tour, okay?”

Shaking his head, Eddie lightly disagrees, “in—“ he checks his watch “—forty five minutes. Forty five minutes, and then I focus on the tour. Until then? I focus on you.”

“I think I like the sound of that,” a smile curves onto her lips and she draws him closer.

“That’s good. Because I really fucking missed you.”

“And I really, really fucking missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their lips mold together and, through her nose, Nancy lets out a heavy sigh of relief. She really needed this— needed him. Needed to feel his weight on top of her and hear his voice, which is usually loud but he keeps it soft and low just for her.

Between her classes and his tours, they don’t get as many of these moments as they hope for. Until the lengthy summer break hits and Eddie declares he won’t touch a stage until “that damn school kidnaps my girlfriend in a few months,” they rely mostly on phone calls and occasional weekend visits in the rare event that they both have enough time.

But, they’re stubborn, they’re willing to bend the rules, and Eddie’s lost his damn mind a bit and maybe (just maybe) Nancy has, too. So they make it work. And they make it worthwhile.

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

All the very best for your exams bestie!!! I hope you're taking care of yourself, drinking enough water and getting plenty of sleep along with studying <3

I was wondering if I could please get a ❤️ and 🦉from your event?

I'm a straight female and my pronouns are she/her. I'm an infp, a taurus sun, gemini moon, and scorpio rising

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and fairly large eyes. I also have these dimples that I really like!

I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw and my enneagram is 4w3.

Thank you very much, I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️

thank u bestie 🫶 (sorry this took so long)

for the Taylor Swift song, I have to go with the last great American dynasty.

As for the ship,

You sound incredibly smart. You are someone who values knowledge and you must have a big imagination. You bring comfort to those around you, they feel safe enough to open up to you and seek help.

Your ideal partner would be someone who listens to you in return, someone who is quiet but kind and once you get close to them warm -like a fire lit in the coldest of winters. You want someone smart, someone you can talk to about your books and interests. You want someone who hates your favorite book, but keeps reading it because you love it, so it must be good, they just havent understood it yet (this is a trope from a dramione fic called Wait & Hope btw)

You want someone that admires you, someone that looks at you in awe while you talk about Dostoevsky and Tolstoi.

You want a partner- an equal. You want to be a team with your significant other, you want to help eachother get better, be the best versions of yourselves.

The best person for you would be Theodore Nott, and let me just write a little something about you two.

You were dragged at a party by your friends, immediately as you step inside the big house you seek a quiet corner, somewhere away from all the drunk people around you.

You find an open door that leads to the balcony, the night is beautiful, the stars are shining bright and you can hear music playing in the background.

You are lost in thought when you hear someone curse to himself and you turn your head startled.

It's Theo, of course, so tall that he hit his head on the door frame and stumbled lightly, spilling his drink.

He wanted a quiet place to sit, not wanting to be at this party in the first place, just like you.

Long story short, you spend the night talking, bonding over your loud friends- and your love for them.

By morning he has sobered up and offers to give you and your fiends a lift home. You agree and after dropping everyone off he asks you, "Do you want to get breakfast or something?"

You end up in an empty diner, drinking coffee and splitting pancakes and waffles with him, because you couldn't decide between the two.

He ends up being the love of your life.

fin

Please tell me what you think- I'm sending you the most positive of vibes- may you find your Theo and may you split pancakes and waffles with him every Sunday morning as a tradition <3

also, im terribly sorry, I didn't have time to proofread this, I took a small break from studying, but now I have to go eek

[nerdychick13]

Hi lovelies! It’s your girl Finesse. I’m finally back in the main villa after Casa Amor. I have so much tea to spill so get your cups and hold ‘em tight!

I know you’re all wondering why I didn’t share with you last week. Well, I needed time to really process everything myself before I brought it to y’all. Like how Amy is all over Marshall and she knows Ozzy is my man! That pisses me off to no end. Marshall has been speaking so ugly about Ozzy at every turn. And Amy doesn’t think anything of it. She’s love drunk on Marshall. It’s giving me so much ick I can’t be around either of them, much less when they are together. But that doesn’t stop her from pulling me into a private chat every five minutes. She is blocking the graft and yet she wants to know if I’m sticking or switching. I don’t even know.

Chloe tells me she likes Francis, so I stepped back from him and got to know Andy a bit more. Okay, you got me. I got to know Andy quite well, even biblically. I took Andy to the hideaway and he took my breath away. I have been to the hideaway before but it was heavenly with Andy. He is such a sweetheart! He even offered to turn down the opportunity so I could take Chloe instead. Yes, Chloe is still very much in the picture. I told her I want to keep it casual between us. I don’t want to close the door on us completely, but I know she hasn’t found anybody she’s falling for yet either. Maybe we could make a go of it.

Hamish. The self-titled “Ham Man.” He doesn’t want me but he gets mad when I say I don’t want him. Okay?? Then he picks up my note I dropped next to my bed the night before. I don’t snoop around your bed, drama fiend! I still don’t know who wrote me the note. I wish I knew. I really hope it was Ozzy. I need some reassurance I’m still the girl he wants. I know he’s still the man I want next to me in the final. But back to Hamish - he and Grace have been kissing. But he told the Casa boys (or led them to believe) that he and Grace went all the way. Of course Grace set the record straight that it was only kissing and touching. I don’t like guys that make it seem like they did more with a girl than actually happened. If you wanna write a fantasy story, write it! Don’t go telling your mates it happened for real!!

Marshall and Amelia are the most extra couple I have ever met. They made a public announcement during our losers’ party in Casa Amor that they were switching together. I know. I KNOW!! The world doesn’t revolve around you two!! I don’t care if you decided you’re taking my boo’s disgusting brother to the main villa. I don’t care that you’ve gotten “serious” after a couple of days. Go bother someone else dammit!

In other news, I told Grace I might take Andy into the main villa with me. He is such an angel to me. He’s not about a lot of drama, he’s mature and secure in himself. Andy is quite the gentleman and I could be very happy with him. But I don’t want to give Ozzy the wrong impression.

I can’t believe the Casa boys couldn’t tell I’m a better kisser than Amy! It was a tie?! I just want something to myself. And now I had to go on a double date with Amy and Marshall, the walking red flag. Speaking of flags, apparently all of the boys are walking green flags to Amy (which should be a red flag to Marshall but he is only using my twin to get in the main villa).

So when we get into the main villa Amy, of all people, gets the first text. Whoop-di-do 🙄. And against my advice, she picks Marshall. But in a shocking twist of fate, Jamal has brought Helen of Troy (sorry, she is goddess-like), I mean Flo into the villa. The surprised look on Amy’s face was so worth it!! I’m proud of Jamal for that. He didn’t need Amy dragging him along any more. Chloe and Roberto both stuck to each other as friends. Such a lovable duo, they are. Ozzy and Grace both stuck and Hamish threw a fit and stormed out of the villa! I can’t blame him. Grace led him on after he put all his eggs in her basket. But I’m glad Ozzy won’t be leaving anytime soon. I need him to pick me at the next coupling! I chose to stick with Elliot, but I don’t know what he has decided. In the postcard it looks like he’s admiring a girl in the shower. A very familiar looking girl. She looks like Ivy but I could be wrong. I don’t need her coming after my partner in the villa. I am all the queen this villa needs. Well, if Elliot switched, I hope I can ask Andy or Francis to couple with me. I don’t want my summer of love to end here.

Well, that’s all for now. See you next time!

Xoxo, Finesse

[kookies2000]

So I just heard that Nickalodian released a Monster High live action movie. Saw a review and I'm greatly disappointed.

One, Frankie is non binary. Great! Thank you! It makes perfect sense for them to be non binary because they're made up of different body parts. So who knows where those parts came from. I like it. But the reason it upsets me is because the people in charge make it feel like forced representation. Why? They 100% ignored the lesbian coding on Clawdeen. Wasn't it confirmed as well that she's a lesbian? It feels like they ignored that fact about her and made her straight and gave the LGBT+ representation to soemone else. It just feels off.

Ghoulia, why? They had her talking english instead of speaking zombie. And she's not even besties with Cleo! Why is Lagoona Cleo bestie? Ghoulia and Cleo were super close in the show.

And Cleo, what did they do to her? She's the stereotypical mean girl. Now don't get me wrong, I love the roles of mean girls. They always have the best stories to tell and the best charater developments. My favorite being Sasha from Amphibia. Not to mention how fun it is to write them. But Cleo was never the stereotypical mean girl. She was a spoiled diva, there's a difference! She was rich, pampered, and cared about looks, yes. But she was also generous and the top girl who'll support her freinds no matter what. She genuinely cared about others and spoiled her fiends as well. Didn't she make the sweet 116 birthday party for Draculura? What about the Boo York Movie? Wasn't that her movie where she shined the most? How she's willing to put her feelings aside and give everyone what they want? She's too sweet and kind to be in that mean girl role. What was that cat girls name? The orange one that loved being mean and bullied Draculura? She was the mean girl, not Cleo!

And the one thing that gets me, like really really really really reeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaly gets me. Cleo and Duce. They aren't a couple in this movie. Why? WHY!? They were the power couple of the school! They have a great relationship and a wonderful dynamic. They have nothing but love between them. The only issue they had in their relationship was class status. Duce was a lower class and that's why Cleo family didn't like him. And to add salt to that wond on my childhood is that he dates Clawdeen. Not the charater that was confirmed lesbian!!! ( Was she confirmed lesbian? I don't remember.) But it just feels wrong. Clawdeen just doesn't give me that feeling that she's into guys. Didn't they have a whole episode where she rejects every guy in her school during a speed dateing moment.

And then the representation in the show was taken away. Every monster had an accent to determine where they're from. Abby is Russian I believe. Draculura is from Transylvania. Cleo is Egyptian. Even Clawdeen had some kind of accent. It just feels off.

And the fashion. Monster High was a fashion line for dolls. Where's the fashion in the movie? Where is it?! No glitter, no ruffles, where are the 12 inch heels!?!? The over the top make up. Every charater at least had some make up. And Lagoona wasn't blue but Frankie is green?

Ok! I got that out of my system. It's just, why? How? How do you mess up a popular franchise like this?

[i-sauce-u-blog]

Stardate - saucedate_01

Saucedate?

Daily journaling on tumblr?

Maybe then you can get yourself a horse and carriage. Floatin’, floatin’, hopin’. I can find peace somewhere. 

Reading got really boring all of a sudden. It appeared as though each paragraph became about one thing, no matter the topic. Eventually every single sentence. Then a mere whisper could tell me everything I needed to know. One purr. 

Writing seems to be a much more fun way to express myself. I can take the reader in any direction I want to. Empowerment at it’s finest. But don’t read my work, otherwise you give me power. Now you know. I’m what you need. You’re fiending now. Ravenous fiends, foaming at the mouth. 

My body heals from its daily trials. Some pains slow to heal, while others will never go away and occasionally return with sharp reminders. Ironically experienced in a similar fashion to emotional damage. Emotional Damage. 

Mr. Terry, the fearless homeless man. Sounding like a Superbowl commentator. GOT THE JOB. He told me to stay away from a bar called Pour Choices. Said there’s nothing to worry about. Anyway, homeboy was out hustling at midnight in the middle of a goddamned winter storm. Motherfucker was straight hustling people in the dead of winter. Anyway, I gave him a ten dollar bill in exchange for his advice. And I’d like to think that in some way, shape, or form it helped him get the job. On an exiting note, he told me I look like I really know how to ‘talk’ to people. XD

[peepingtoad]

It was always over such superficial things that they seemed to quibble. Maybe an achievement in itself given how affable and gregarious the so-called Sannin was supposed to be. Exerting that subduing aura of his, eyes locked with the man, Madara's head canted in a predatory consideration while closing the proximity between them, seeming to have effectively rendered him speechless with that predator's gaze. "A frog always quails before the falcon, doesn't he?"

// @asaraltu

Jiraiya was no stranger to those who considered his outlook–and especially those who presumed to know his outlook based on everything but his own plain words–to be cheerful nonsense of an insufferable sort. He’d persevered through many years of best friendship with exactly the sort, and found himself rather adept at dealing with it as a result.

But the question on his mind here and now was as follows: was this particular brand of doom-and-gloom bastard the type who could roll with his return punches, or would he strike?

So curious was the potential answer to that question that Jiraiya had bitten back at one remark, as fast as lightning did strike sky-reaching treetops, and in a manner that the great Uchiha may have found surprisingly brusque.

… And that was the moment he would learn two things: first of all, that Uchiha Madara had moves other than simply rolling and striking, which brings us very conveniently to the second; Uchiha Madara was gorgeous.

But by no means was this a regular type of gorgeous. No, this was a switch flipped so suddenly in his awareness that although those eyes remained dark as jet, he immediately presumed it was a particularly misleading genjutsu. However, when he tried to release it, there was… nothing.

Nothing at all. No chakra disturbance that he could speak of, although he was no sensor in his usual state, and to make matters worse, the aforementioned switch-flipping rendered him unable to fathom changing that circumstance. His entire world was consumed by that face–the noble cast of his jaw and nose, the curve of his mouth, the way errant dark hairs brushed his cheek as he loomed closer and closer…

The worst thing he could possibly have done, he realised in a small internal voice (which was barely even audible beneath the thick fog that clouded his brain) was to draw away from those eyes. It allowed the Uchiha to force his back up against the tree trunk where he sat, staring with wide eyes made wider by the angle as the man leaned down to ensnare him more completely in his overwhelming aura.

And what’s this?

His hair, mainly the finer follicles on the back of his neck and forearms, stood up from his skin the very moment Madara spoke. That man’s voice was music, Jiraiya had learned that much the very day they met–but it was the content, the blatant threat and condescension of it, that made him shiver with antici…

But wait. Didn’t he usually need a little more obvious chemistry with a person to start fancying the verbal beat-down? In most cases, this was the sort of animal kingdom, predator-prey Orochimaru-esque bullshit observation that would agitate him thoroughly–coming from anyone but Orochimaru himself.

With immense difficulty, after a pause between question and finding his wits, the sage cleared his throat–although still, found himself quite unable to tear his eyes away from Madara’s.

“Ahhh, on the contrary,” he managed to utter, albeit through a far drier mouth than he’d had moments prior, after which he continued with rather forced cheer, “a wise old toad who understands the world around him will simply remain still, blend in with his surroundings, and allow the impatient predator to bypass him entirely!”

That said, Jiraiya did not remain still. There wasn’t a great deal of space between them, but it was enough that he could push his elbows into the bark and crane his neck forward without bumping noses (or worse). Anything to show that there was absolutely no quailing going on here, madly thrashing heart or not.

“Failing that, when the foolish bird strikes, the unaccounted for venom means both will probably die. Either way, just goes to show what underestimating others does for anyone…” His mouth cocked up into a crooked smile. “And also that someone doesn’t have a very good understanding of herpetology. D’you think licking toads will do anything but give you a really bad stomach, too?”

[rachello344]

OKAY, so as a former lit major (with, to be clear, a master's in literature), I have some really fun information to share with the class for this last installment of Daily Dracula.

Now, first thing's first, I'm going to post the section I'm talking about specifically so we can refer back to it more easily. Namely:

In a voice which, though low and almost in a whisper seemed to cut through the air and then ring round the room he said:— "How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:— "You yourself never loved; you never love!" On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it almost made me faint to hear; it seemed like the pleasure of fiends. Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:— "Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done." ... They simply seemed to fade into the rays of the moonlight and pass out through the window, for I could see outside the dim, shadowy forms for a moment before they entirely faded away. Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious.

Now there is a Lot to unpack here, and a lot of people have already pointed out the surface layer homoeroticism (I mean, he says "love" outright and clearly means it), but there's some stuff I haven't seen anyone mention yet.

First of all, if you haven't seen it yet, please take a look at this post which shows Bram Stoker's notes on the novel. The important takeaway is that Bram Stoker had one line of dialogue from pretty much the very beginning: "This man belongs to me." It repeats thrice, and well before the characters are more than "Old Count."

What this says to me is that Stoker was, like any of us, writing his novel to write that One Scene that just fucks so hard. This scene was written to be horny. It is meant to be. Stoker wrote this scene with his whole dick in the way of all the horror greats. He's my hero. By this time, Stoker had already at least acknowledged his own leanings (see Stoker's love letters to Walt Whitman, the first of which was written well before he wrote Dracula), so we can guess that he had this image and wanted to see it on paper for himself. (Good for him, and Same.)

Straight audiences would have seen Jonathan's feminization by the narrative and the Count's clearly sexual interest in him as horrifying (cowards), but queers are and have always been queer. And I suspect they all read this scene in the same way we're reading it now. BUT they had an extra bit of info that we've since lost track of.

In the peak of epistolary writing, there was a bit of well-known shorthand. (If you've seen Mamma Mia, this is the equivalent to the "dot dot dot" in the mom's diary from her slut phase.) In epistolary novels, when your heroine is alone with a man, and she says she swoons... She got laid. Now, how far it went, I couldn't say, but this was At Least heavy making out, if not full on sex (I suspect it may have been up for interpretation, but I don't know). My professor pointed this out with a young woman swooning while alone in a carriage with a guy she was kind of seeing. "She says she swooned because this letter is to her father figure, but the audience would have known exactly what she meant."

So Jonathan swoons, and when he wakes up, he is undressed and in his own bed. The readers at the time would have immediately read this as a sexual assault.

For a long time, I was confused by how passive Jonathan is throughout this part of the novel, but he is playing the role of the maiden fair, trapped by the diabolical (and much older) seducer. And then, he is in survival mode as he is assaulted more than once, his virtue stolen before he can marry his beloved.

I mean, God, you have this whole romantic build, the count saves the maiden Jonathan and plans to "awaken him, for there is work to be done." And then Jonathan swoons, and the Count carries him to bed? Not to put too fine a point on it, but... well, it really only makes sense if Dracula DID wake Jonathan up and... made his claim abundantly clear. Clear enough, too, for Jonathan to feel like his "gloomy" rooms are in fact his only sanctuary. And like... Jonathan was undressed by the Count. That really does mean exactly what it sounds like.

So uh. Yeah, after that supremely possessive display and declaration of love, the Count fucks Jonathan (as with all maidens of the time, his consent is... dubious. Would he consent if he were able? We'll never know tbh) and carries him (undressed) to bed. Bram Stoker knew EXACTLY what he was doing, and I hope you all enjoy that fact. I know I will. ;D

ETA: Sources for my information about swooning are in my reblog, but you can also find them here, here, here (this blog post is referred to in more than one article), and here, and this one references this exact scene directly.