#not a sick victorian beauty

[sadlynotthevoid]

KRS would refuse to do any exercise unless he absolutely has to. Otherwise he's only skin, bones, and bland squishy barely existing muscles.

Og!Cale would exercise daily, increasing the difficult everyday until he ends up with a ridiculous maito-gai-approved work out routine, just because he wants muscles.

[drunkeddiediaz]

Benjamin Franklin is that you?

[l3monsoda]

I have this stupid romanticized fantasy where I have a teaparty book club. It's a normal book club that meets periodically but when they do it's a tea party and everyone sips teas and eats finger sandwiches and has fun being dainty while talking books.

This dream will never come true because it requires a set of impossible to achieve conditions. First a friend group or social circle of similarly inclined individuals large enough to pull from to get a group of 4-7 people big enough for interesting conversations. Second all members of said group would have to have the necessary amount for free time to actually read the book AND a consistent enough schedule to plan for and attend meetings on a regular basis. Third the only way to maintain sustainability for something like this is if either each member takes turns hosting or there is some kind of money pool and or distribution of tasks for setting up tea which is another time and resource factor that members would have to be able to afford.

And even if by some far away and out of reach middle class dreams miracle all these factors DID manage to come together it STILL wouldn't work because literally no one in my social circles like any of the books I do so I would have to read books I don't like every month or no one would join. Or more likely I'd try it for a few months just get tired of the book choice and eave and every one else would go on living my fantasy without me because just like how I never get the aux cord, no one is letting me curate the book club reading list.

[corvidacryptida]

Laughter lines are beautiful because they show everyone the joy you've known.

Frown lines are beautiful because they show everyone the hardship you've overcome.

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt! Vulnerable post-case Scully. She can be prickly (because I love your Scully) but also delicate. Case-related vulnerability is my most favourite vibe in the series and every so often I get sad that there are no more moments to watch. Thank you 💜

By the time she gets around to taking it off, her blood-soaked starched blouse has all but melded with her skin. They have to peel it from her body with a crackling sound. Her jacket is already stiffly tented in the corner.

He will burn those items later, he will burn and burn and burn.

***

Acrid scent of gunpowder in the air still. Blood like pennies baking on hot tarmac. Cortisol, adrenaline.

Terror.

Her grasping fingers, her grasping hands, her wracking sobs even as he pried her away to check for wounds.

***

Mulder helps her to his bathroom, holding her elbow as she staggers beside him like a fawn. Her hair is dried in ragged, bloody clumps.

He settles her onto the toilet lid, gets the bath running at her preferred level of scald. He squirts in a few blobs of his pine-scented body wash, which begin to foam. Scully smiles a heartbreaking smile in thanks.

“Bubbles,” he says, inanely.

Scully’s chest is caked with blood, even with her shirt removed to reveal the stained satin of her bra. Her belly is streaked with it, her black trousers rusty and stiff.

How is there any blood still inside her? How is she still here?

She has her arms crossed at her lap, her head bowed. He cannot see anything but her white shoulders and her draggled hair and her dark, narrow thighs.

“Scully,” he whispers.

She gazes up, hollow-eyed. “He didn’t…” she begins. “We never….”

She looks away, lower lip between her teeth.

“Oh, Scully.”

His hands are gentle at the clasp of her bra; he turns his eyes from her breasts even though he’s seen them.

He unbuttons the fine wool trousers at her waist, slides them down with her dark panties. He doesn’t look or touch or breathe more than he has to because the idea of connecting any of this to lust makes him sick.

Her hips, the dark triangle of sunset hair between her thighs, are also sticky with blood. The lace clings a little and she winces. Her trouser lining tugs. Finally, she is nude. She is so small and so bloody and so bare, like a newborn creature.

Mulder guides her towards the tub, averts his eyes like she is Artemis bathing. Tries not to think the name Diana.

Scully, breast-deep in bubbles. Scully dripping rusty rivulets in the steam. Her tears are silent now, streaking paths down her blood-smattered kidskin face.

Mulder fills a scuffed blue plastic Knicks cup with water, curves his palm around her eyes. “Look up,” he murmurs, and she does, distant, outside of herself.

He sluices water over her head until it runs clear, until she is sleek as an otter, a siren, a goddess. She gasps a little, spreads her fingers against her skull.

Her freckles are magnified by the falling water, her eyes a little too big. A little too round. Her nose is straight and queenly throughout however; her lips parted like a budding tulip.

He massages pearly-blue Head and Shoulders shampoo into the rare, persimmon beauty of her hair. He massages her scalp until she purrs a little. He touches her until his nerves are settled.

“Mulder,” she says, and grasps his forearm in her fine, pale hand. Her face is pre-Raphaelite. Her face is like a D below middle-C; a plucked bowstring, still quivering.

Agent Mulder is already in love.

“Padgett was crazy, he was -“ she begins.

“Sshhhh,” he says. “I have conditioner.” He holds the bottle out, a drugstore brand promising THICKNESS!!! and SHINE!!!

She laughs and it warms him like a hot toddy, like the sun in August, like the sand at Ninigret Pond.

***

Scully is clean, finally, even her smudged makeup rubbed away. They’ve drained and refilled the tub with fresh water, with fresh bubbles. She seems like herself again, not so dazed.

He passes her his robe, turns his head to hold it out when she stands.

“You’re so Victorian.”

“Oh, you know how much I love to lie back and think of England.” He glances over. “The memories are so nice, Phoebe and all.”

Scully ties the too-long belt in a big square knot. “It was kindly meant.” Her smile is soft.

“I know.”

They shift awkwardly for a moment in the small space. Scully looks like a kid dressed up as an angel for a Nativity play in that enormous robe, her bare face and bare feet and tumbled halo of hair.

“Thank you,” Scully begins finally. “I couldn’t have-“

“I’m sorry,” he says at the same time.

Scully frowns. “Why on earth are you sor-“

“My neighbor. So I feel like I..I don’t know. I led him to you.” He picks at a non-existent hangnail.

Scully sighs. “Oh, Mulder.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t… I didn’t mean to make it about me, I know these are your choices, that you’re not some damsel in distress. I just hate when these things hurt you.”

Things is such an inadequate word, but no word ever could be adequate.

Scully blinks. She opens the door, wafts into his bedroom with the steam. Trails his bathrobe like a court gown.

Mulder follows after, wary. Watches her sprawl on his bed, far from the blood stains in the living room. He’s already called the crime-scene cleanup company.

Again.

She pats the bed next to her. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

He laughs a little at that, remembers her looking a lot like this years ago in Bellefleur, in that awful motel with that terrible brown Clairol wash on her hair. He flops next to her. “Any mosquito bites you want me to check, Doctor Scully?”

She thumbs his cheek. “I was a child.”

He kisses her nose so that he doesn’t kiss her mouth. Though why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t they?

“I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea…” he quotes. Trails off. What are they doing, this isn’t a partnership. This is strange and awful and gorgeous. Her dying baby in his arms, her ova, her-

“In her sepulchre there by the sea…” Scully murmurs. “In her tomb by the sounding sea.” She closes her eyes.

They breathe one another’s air. They breathe artificial pine scent, dryer sheets, warm nitrogen. Faded cotton, old paper.

“Are you okay?” he asks, so he doesn’t slip a finger between her thighs. So he doesn’t say I love you the way oysters love the morning tide.

Her finger at his lips, her breath on his lashes. Her sweet, warm skin and her extraordinary brain and the scarred palimpsest of her body right here.

“No,” she says, stroking his jaw. “But I will be.”

****

She stays with him all night and he stays with her all night and they are arranged like the Lovers of Valdaro.

His coffee pot is programmed. His carpet is soaked in her blood, her gun is going to be the subject of an investigation.

He and Walter will protect her.

***

She loses the robe at 2AM, mumbling something vague about being tangled and too hot. Her naked body is now asleep against his chest and he lets go, finally, in the sweet vulnerability of her slim arms that can heal and kill.

[morsmortish]

pandora rosier is not gentle and sweet and delicate. she may look like a beautiful victorian doll, but in reality she is like one of those sets of matryoshka dolls, where you open one up to see another inside. the outside doll may resemble a fragile looking, doe-eyed beauty, but the one inside is a Terrible Person. she is selfish and vicious and only acts for the sake of herself. she is not airy and dreamy and kind (she is not luna!!!), and she is capable of unimaginable cruelty towards those who wrong her. she is the definition of morally grey: she is not outwardly evil, she does actively seek to destroy the world, but she would not risk a thing to save it either. she is ruled by a sick sense of self-preservation, and she makes decisions based off of what is best for her or for those she loves. she is perhaps less sadistic than her brother, and finds less enjoyment in the torture and killing of animals in the back of their family garden, but she does find it fascinating. she observes evan when he experiments, and she will always be the one to clean up after him, carefully wipe the blood off his face, hide the evidence, bury the corpses. she holds no reservations against the atrocious acts he commits, both towards those animals but also later in life as a death eater, and if she wasn’t so concerned with protecting herself, perhaps she would have joined up. she certainly never cared either way if he was murdering innocents or not. she is beautiful on the outside, both of the twins are, but both of them are also rotten on the inside.

[afeelgoodblog]

Best News of Last Week - July 3, 2023

🐕 - This dog is 'disc'-overing hidden treasures! Get ready for the 'paws'-itively successful fundraiser, Daisy's Discs!

1. Most unionized US rail workers now have new sick leave

More than 60% of U.S. unionized railroad workers at major railroads are now covered by new sick leave agreements, a trade group said Monday.

Last year railroads came under fire for not agreeing to paid sick leave during labor negotiations.

2. Missing teen found after being lost in the wilderness for 50 hours

Esther Wang, 16, had been hiking with three other people through the Maple Ridge park on Tuesday.

The group made it to Steve’s lookout around 2:45 p.m. that day.However, when they headed back down to the campsite, after about 15 minutes of hiking, the group leader realized Wang was missing. They returned to the lookout to look for Wang but couldn’t find her. The leader headed to the trail entrance to notify a park ranger and police.

“Esther Wang has been located. She’s healthy, she is happy and she’s with family.”

3. A dog has retrieved 155 discs from woods. They’ll be on sale soon, with proceeds going to the park in West Virginia where they were found

Meet Daisy, the yellow Labrador retriever with a unique talent for finding lost Frisbee golf discs at Grand Vue Park in West Virginia. Four years ago, while on a walk with her owner Kelly Mason, Daisy discovered a disc in the woods and proudly brought it back. Since then, Daisy's obsession with finding stray discs has grown, and she has collected an impressive cache of 155 discs.

Mason and park officials have now come up with a plan to return the discs to their owners if they are labeled, and any unclaimed discs will be sold as a fundraiser to support the park's disc golf courses. Daisy's Discs is expected to be a success, with many excited about the possibility of recovering their lost discs thanks to Daisy's remarkable skills.

4. Australian earless dragon last seen in 1969 rediscovered in secret location

A tiny earless dragon feared to be extinct in the wild has been sighted for the first time in more than 50 years – at a location that is being kept secret to help preservation efforts.

The Victorian grassland earless dragon, Tympanocryptis pinguicolla, has now been rediscovered in the state, according to a joint statement issued by the Victorian and federal Labor governments on Sunday.

5. Detroit is going to power 100% of its municipal buildings with solar

All of Detroit’s municipal buildings are going to be powered by neighborhood solar as part of the city’s efforts to combat climate change – check out the city’s cool grassroots plan. Meet Detroit Rock Solar City.

The city has determined that it’s going to need around 250 acres of solar panels in order to achieve 100% solar power for its municipal buildings.

6. Canada Officially Bans Cosmetic Testing on Animals

The fight for cruelty-free beauty in Canada has seen a significant breakthrough as the Canadian government legislates a full ban on cosmetic animal testing and trade, marking a victory for Animal rights advocates and eco-conscious consumers.

This landmark decision is part of the Budget Implementation Act (Bill C-47), not only prohibiting cosmetic animal testing but also putting an end to the sale of cosmetics that use new animal testing data for safety substantiation.

7. Belize certified malaria-free by WHO

The World Health Organization (WHO) has certified Belize as malaria-free, following the country’s over 70 years of continued efforts to stamp out the disease.

“WHO congratulates the people and government of Belize and their network of global and local partners for this achievement”, said Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO Director-General. “Belize is another example of how, with the right tools and the right approach, we can dream of a malaria-free future.”

----

That's it for this week :)

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[merakiui]

victorian era doctor riddle rosehearts and his darling patient suffering from hanahaki disease.

dr. rosehearts who is the finest medical practitioner in town, renowned for his expertise and intelligence in the field. so it's only fitting that, as a noble and only child hailing from a wealthy set of parents, you are given the best treatment available. riddle sees so many affluent families and so you're no different. this disease, however, is an oddity. it's very scarcely documented in old texts, and most of the information regarding it has been lost to time. supposedly, the cure to this flowery ailment remains unknown. for riddle, this is as much of a challenge as it is an inspiration. he will cure you; that's his promise as a proud doctor.

so to better monitor you and keep track of your condition, riddle suggests you be moved into his home. a temporary arrangement, of course. it's not nearly as grand as what you're used to, but it is quite spacious. it's half hospital and half home, a place in which patients come to him. for isolation purposes, if their illness is particularly dangerous, amongst other reasons. and what reason would anyone have to doubt the great dr. rosehearts?

your parents are desperate. they'll do anything if it means you'll stop coughing up petals or complaining of a throat scratched sore by persistent thorns. riddle collects samples of the petals in hopes that the town's botanist rollo flamme can identify the exact species, where it commonly grows, how to safely manage it, and so on. it's a peculiar case, one riddle has only ever spied remnants of in old notes.

you rely so heavily on dr. rosehearts, your way of life compromised. you beg him to help you, to get rid of whatever's causing this. it takes time, but rollo identifies the flower. it's a curious finding. such a flower is not native to this part of the country. in fact, there should be no reason for it to be here, for it cannot thrive in this type of environment. riddle is left puzzled. just how did such a flower find its way into your system? what is sustaining it? is it sapping your life away? so many questions arise, yet none can be answered in full.

most importantly, what does the timeline look like if death looms on the horizon? how long does he have before the worst strikes?

it has been some time and, though he knows he ought to remain impartial, dr. rosehearts has found himself infatuated with his poor patient. he tends to you like one might a rose in a garden, diligently and ever so carefully, pruning away signs of sickness in order to keep you somewhat healthy. it feels inevitable, even more so when your legs give out and, much to your horror, little branches with tiny leaves begin to poke through your ankles.

so now you're placed in a wheelchair, and that is that. most days he thinks you're more doll than human, especially since your spirits seem far more dampened than they once were. you wither in your chair, quiet and wistful, longing for good health. though it's in his profession to save, he's never seen you in a more beautiful state. like a statue doomed to exist in stiff silence. like a single flower struggling to brave harsh conditions. like a doll destined to be taken care of by his gentle, capable hands.

he was never allowed dolls as a child. such toys were distracting according to his mother. but now he has one for himself and, even if he thinks himself too old to play with dolls, you're one he just can't put down.

perhaps it's for the best that your legs are broken and your lungs are weak and your entire body is supported by this parasitic plant. with this, he's given the chance to finally indulge in one of the many things he was denied as a child.

the appeal of a doll is that they are versatile. they can wear an entire wardrobe of clothes. they can be bent into various positions. they can look upon you with glass eyes and smile with rosebud lips. and they can't speak. never speak!

riddle doesn't need to be traditional for something so unethical. weddings and rings and courtship mean everything in his dreams, but he is a man watered with logic and sensibility. and you are just a quiet, fragile rose drowning in unwanted, suffocating affection.

[hisokakissmeplz]

Halloween Special

Illumi and Hisoka (separately) I'll post hcs for the other characters maybe

Sorry I totally missed kinktober guys but I'ma try and make it up to you all

Also I don't own any of the characters obviously

Illumi as a Vampire

Poor, sweet, innocent little you. You just wanted some strawberries, you were craving them. But of course, your tiny little village was all out. After hours of asking if anyone had seen any bushes with the sweet red berries, there was only one place that came up.

The old Zoldyck place.

It was empty, had been for years. Unless you asked anyone from the village. According to them, the last surviving vampire in this town still lives in his family home. Which was total horseshit, seriously vampires? No such thing.

So off you went, unafraid. And it was so worth it, these bushes had the biggest red strawberries you'd ever seen in your life. You picked and picked and picked, plopping them all in your little basket and humming to yourself.

Which was fun until someone starting humming with you. At first you figured it was some townspeople trying to mess with you.

"knock it off guys!"

You jokingly called out but the humming didn't stop.

"Seriously, it's not funny!"

This time it sounded closer, almost right behind you. You spun around fast, but nothing. The humming continued, only getting closer.

You spun around again, this time tripping over someone and landing in the bush. Someone, the same someone who tripped you in the first place, stuck out his hand to help you up.

You accepted and stood up, dusting yourself off and thanking the stranger. You looked up, smiling sweetly before you saw his face.

You jumped back, trying to put as much distance between him as you could.

God, he looked just as young as he did in all the old photos you'd seen. Victorian family photos of the family. A family that should've been dead a long time ago.

Yet here stood, their eldest son. Still young as ever. Illumi Zoldyck.

"Miss, you dropped this."

He said, monotone while holding your basket.

Your voice shook, your face growing pale and your heart thumping at of your chest, barely able to put together a sentence you mumbled out a weak.

"You're dead."

"Yeah?"

He seemed confused, like if it was common knowledge. You supposed it was, all the locals believed it.

"Oh. What do you want?"

That perplexed him even more.

"What do I want?"

He repeated.

"You're on my property, what do you want?"

That was fair, his voice was soft and deep, yet alluring.

"I was just, I was just picking berries. I'm sorry I didn't know anyone still lived here."

You explained, your voice weak and shaky. What could you say, what could you do? What would make him let you go, was he going to suck your blood now like all those dracula legends?

"Take them, it's not like I need them."

Oh. That was easier than you thought.

"Though, I suppose that means, you owe me now."

This was it. You're dead. He's going to kill you.

You took off, running as fast as you could. There was no way you could fight back against him but maybe, you could reach the gate and be back in town. If you could just make it a little further.

There he was, right in front of you. There was no way, he was too fast for you to follow. One second he was behind you the next, right in front of you. Before you could think, he was behind you again much closer this time. He grabbed a hold of you by your wrists, pulling you inside the old mansion.

It was a beautiful place, old yes, but in great shape.

"You can't run from debt."

His voice echoed from behind you.

"You can if you're fast enough."

You struggled in his grasp, desperately fighting it.

"Clearly you're not."

God, his voice was hot. This was wrong, so wrong, but part of you was smiling inside. You could have ran faster, but you wanted to get caught didn't you? He is rather handsome. How sick you are, deliberately getting caught by a vampire just to let him suck on your neck. Disgusting. Still, you could feel the familiar warmth growing in your core as Illumi spoke.

"You never even asked what I wanted, you catch on a lot faster than the others."

He was treating the whole thing so nonchalantly.

"Stay with me, just a little while?"

This time he was asking rather than demanding, it was strange. Why would he want you to stay, maybe he's lonely, you thought. Maybe that's why he's lures people here, for company and the whole vampire thing just complicates that. Maybe if you just stay for a minute you can sneak out. Totally.

"Yes, of course."

You feigned an unafraid voice. You truly are brilliant.

"Really, that easy?"

You nodded.

It was nice actually, he invited you up to his parlor. You guys played pool and you actually started laughing at his jokes. He made you drinks, surprisingly skilled too.

He excused himself, and you thought this was your only chance. It was fun, hanging out with Illumi, and he was exciting and handsome, but at the the end of the day he still wanted to suck on your neck.

You made for the window, sliding your fingers over the glass and pulling it up. You cringed at the creaking of it but hurried you best to get out.

You swing both legs over the window seal, when you felt his cold hands on your back. Dragging you back in and tsking under his breath. Fuck.

"I thought you said you stay with me."

"I did, but I need to leave now."

He tsked again.

"Then why not excuse yourself, unless..."

His voice was directly in your ear, smooth and deep, whispering yet still so intimidating.

"you're scared of me."

Yeah, you totally were like who wouldn't be.

"No, of course not."

"No, it's fine. There's no reason to be scared, I won't hurt you."

He came closer to you, slowly approaching you. You stood still, rock solid with your heart beating and pounding in your stomach.

He was so close now you could feel the lack of heat coming from him, before he closed the gap between your lips and his.

He kissed you, so warmly despite his cold skin. He let his hands trace along your arms to your shoulders to your neck to your back, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touched.

You held onto him, kissing back and tangling your fingers in his hair.

He kissed all down your lips to your jaw to your neck, his lips caress over the skin of your neck softly, gently. You play with his hair, enjoy the sensitive touch before.

"Shh, it's okay."

He mumbled, his fangs buried in your neck. You whimper at the feeling, his fangs tugging into your skin and sucking hard on your skin with his lips.

His hands still held you gently, despite the violent abuse of your neck.

"You're doing so well."

One of his hands slipped down to your thigh, resting almost under your skirt. Stilling suck your neck, he waits for your nod of approval before moving any further.

His cold fingertips slowly moving up your thigh and under your skirt. The slow drag of his long fingers, as they tread closer to your core, almost too slowly.

It wasn't long before he hand you over the pool table, his mouth still attached to your neck. You felt fuzzy from the blood loss but still wanting to go on. Your hips meeting his with every thrust has his sharp nails dug into your hips.

The table shook with the force of it, and you were sure it would crack at any second but you couldn't care less right now. Not with the slow drag of his dick, tugging against your slick walls before slamming right back in and hitting your cervix.

"Ill-lumi! Lumi!"

You chanted his name over and over again, almost like a prayer as he kept up his excruciating pace.

He just let out soft moans and grunts against your neck as his fangs hitched into the skin.

You felt the way his dick twitched inside you, letting you know how close he was. Not that you were far behind.

You felt his cold hand sliding in-between you two, sliding all the way down to your clit. Rubbing slow circles and switching direction every few seconds became your downfall.

Your body shook and you head spun, you hands gripping tightly at his shoulders. You hadn't even realized you were pulling his hair till you came down.

Illumi stood up, his mouth dark, deep red and his eyes seemingly glazed over.

He leaned in, kissing you softly. You moved your lips in sync, tasting your blood on his lips.

Maybe picking strawberries at the old Zoldyck mansion wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

Hisoka as Ghostface

"Seriously, you're just being paranoid."

Your friend's voice echoing in the house as she pleaded one more time for you to come with her to the Halloween party.

"You won't think so when ghost killer guy shows up!"

You shouted at her from upstairs, sitting on your bed and watching TV.

"His name's ghostface by the way, and you're missing out!"

You heard the thud of your front door shutting as she left.

Maybe you were paranoid, but you felt much safer at your house watching movies instead of being out with a killer on the loose.

Finishing one movie and deciding to take a quick break and get some more drinks and snacks before turning on the next one seemed like a good idea.

Your fuzzy socks made little noice other than the creaking of old steps as you treaded down the staircase.

You were getting together all your snacks when your heard your phone ring in your bedroom upstairs.

Sighing heavily, you pick up all your snacks and drinks and head up the stairs. The creaky steps squeaking at you pace.

You drop all the food on the bed and pick up your phone. You don't recognize the number so you let it ring. Only a few seconds later, you're phone rings again. Same number, deciding it must be important you answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey~"

"Who's this?"

"Guess."

You think about for a second.

"Danny? What do you want?"

"Wrong. Guess again."

"Danny, seriously this isn't funny."

"You really wanna waste your second guess on him?"

"I'm being serious, you're not funny."

Your voice growing a little shaky, it didn't sound like Danny on the phone but still.

"I find myself hilarious, who's your final guess?"

"I don't know, um, Eric?"

Maybe Danny and his cousin Eric were playing a prank on you. They were dicks and Danny knew how scared you were of the killer.

"Aw, wrong. I win."

"Okay, bye."

"Wait."

You hung up, sighing softly and laying back down on your bed to watch your movie.

The phone rang again and you answered.

"Look Danny this isn't funny."

"What movie are you watching?"

Your heart dropped, his deep, raspy voice ringing through you ears and other muffled sounds you couldn't make out.

"It's a comedy,"

"Don't lie to me."

"How do you know I'm lying."

"You're very pretty, such a pretty girl."

The muffled noices on the other line only got louder, still not clear enough for you to hear. Your hand shook with the phone, you grabbed the blanket to cover yourself.

"Oh no, don't do that. I was enjoying the sight."

"Leave me alone, please."

"Aw, keep begging, maybe you'll convince me."

The muffled sound getting louder, an unfamiliar noice but almost like skin slapping.

You hung up, scared and shaking under your blanket as you set your phone down. A loud banging on your window causing you to drop the phone and run downstairs.

The steps whined in protest as you did. Reaching the bottom of them and trying to catch your breath you look up at the front.

How could you be so fucking stupid.

How could you forget something so important.

You forgot to lock the fucking door.

You sprinted for it, as fast as your legs could take you slamming into the door.

Fumbling with your shaky hands and quickly locking the door.

You slid down the wall, your back against it as you relaxed finally. Pulling you knees up and resting your head on them. Shivering in the thin material of your nightgown, you hesitantly headed back upstairs.

Upon entering your room you heard his voice again.

"What about the back door? Come on you know better."

His taunting voice echoing from downstairs.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you rushed to find somewhere to hide.

You dropped onto the ground fast and slid under your bed. Curling up the best you could and trying to quiet your gasping sobs. You felt the fresh warm tears sliding down your cheeks as you hid under the bed.

You could hear his steps up the stairs, the creaky sound of each slow step. You heard it so many times, underestimating how scary it could be.

He finally reached the top of the stairs, turning to the left.

You could hear his footsteps around the second floor, he didn't know where you were. If you could just stay hidden, maybe he'd leave.

Your heart pounded in your throat, your stomach queasy as he entered your bedroom.

You could see his black heeled dress shoes as he walked through your room. He searched your closet, your bathroom and every other space in your house.

But not under the bed. Not under the bed where you were hiding.

You heard his footsteps leaving the room and the creaky stairs start up. He was leaving.

You were safe.

That was when your phone rang.

The loud ringtone blaring in your ears.

Quickly you shut it off, cursing your friend under your breath for her bad timing.

You didn't hear anymore footsteps though, nothing. He was gone, he left.

Just as you were about to slid out from under the bed your heard his raspy, sweet as honey voice ring out.

"Found you."

His long fingers wrapping around your ankle and yanking you out from the bed.

"No, please!"

You yelled and kicked and screamed, although it was all ineffective.

He pulled you close, sitting between your now spread legs and holding you there.

He was strong, strong enough to drag you around like a doll despite your fighting. You could see him now, by the light of your bedroom lamp.

He was wearing tight black clothes, ones that accentuated every muscle and curve of his body. His face hidden behind an old costume mask, a white screaming ghost mask.

He lifted his mask, just enough for you to see his mouth. His strong jaw line jutting out, complimented by the lamplight.

"You're so fun, you almost won too. If it wasn't for that stupid phone, huh?"

You felt more fresh tears slide down your cheeks.

"Aw, don't cry, we can play a new game."

He purred.

His voice filling your ears as you felt a familiar pooling at your core. That added feeling of his thigh rubbing against you every time he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, not helping at all.

He leaned forward again, his thigh pressing against your core giving you small throbs in your cunt.

"How does i- what was that?"

His voice purred out again.

Your face lit up with embarrassment when you realized what he was referencing. The red heat of your cheeks and the continuous throbbing in between your legs making you turn you head to the side so you didn't have to look at him.

"Aw, shy baby. Did you get caught on purpose? Wanted me to find you, didn't you?"

He teased you with his jaunty voice. He laughed, turning your head to face him and holding it there. He used his other hand to lift up the mask.

God he was beautiful.

He wasted no time, leaning down to kiss you passionately. Hesitating at first, you quickly relaxed into the kiss, despite your situation.

His hands moved down your sides, tracing down your hips to your thighs. He let his fingers dance up your thighs, slowly. Kissing you softly, moving down to your neck.

His hand pulling up your night gown a bit, the other sliding up to feel at your soaked core.

"Oh, dirty girl."

He almost moaned in your ear.

You whined and squirm as his long, pretty fingers play with your clit before sliding one into your desperate cunt.

Slowly, his skilled fingers speeding up as he kisses at your neck and chest. Being sure to leave lots of marks for tomorrow.

You arms wrapped around him as he worked to please, grunting as your core tightened for his fingers.

He slipped then out, you let out a small mewl of disapproval.

You feel him tug at your nightgown, pulling it off before reaching for you panties.

"Name?"

You stopped him.

"Hisoka."

He answered, without looking up as he slid your panties off.

He fumbled with his own clothes stripping down the best he could before growing impatient and lining up with your cunt. He thrusted in fast, stopping to let you adjust to the sudden stretch.

"Ah"

You let out breathlessly, holding onto his shoulders.

"Good girl, that's it."

He set a brutal pace, thrust in and out, pounding into you. The slapping of his heavy balls against your ass filling the room.

You whined and cried out. Your desperate voice almost too hoarse for you to recognize.

Really, you thought. Here you are on your bedroom flooring begging this strange intruder to fuck your brains out. You didn't really care how it sounded though, just never wanted it to stop.

You felt the way your whole body tighten around Hisoka. The familiar feeling hitting you as he sped up his unrelenting pace. Your body shaking as you reached your high. He grabs your hips, holding tightly as he starts to chase his own high.

You feel him dropped onto you as he reaches his peak, his chest heaving in sync with yours.

Some how you managed to get into bed, figuring you'd just clean yourself up in the morning, you fell fast asleep.

"Hey! You up here?"

Your friend's voice woke you from your sleep.

"Yeah?" Your voice raspy.

"I was worried, you didn't answer any of my calls last night and- oh."

Her voice changed, along with a smirk adorning her face.

"You ditched my party for some dick?"

Oh yeah, the marks.

[httpstes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Random things that remind me of Venus in Water signs <33 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

: ̗̀➛ Cancer venus

Moon goddess, white cupcakes, soft makeup, pastels, twinkling stars, ball gowns, sleeping beauty, Bridgeton, velvet dresses, aurora borealis, moonstone, labradorite, ex lovers, childhood crushes, historical events that for some reason bring you a lot of nostalgia, warm cardigans, rosy cheeks, plump lips, angel wings, tattoos that are aesthetically pleasing but also have some rlly deep meaning behind them..in saying that probably has tattoos that are related to their loved ones, mini skirts, crescent moon, autumn leaves, picnics in the park, constantly getting hit by nostalgia then crying about your childhood, sad/serene resting face, calm river flow in forests, doll eyes, cathedrals, atonement, victorian homes and decor, mid-western gothic towns, struggling to live in the present because you’re in a constant state of reminiscing on the past, red and white candles, love spells, love sick, Ludus (playful love) and Agape (love for everyone), learning that unconditional love has its consequences.

: ̗̀➛ Scorpio venus

The mystics, love magick, killer smile, captivating love, people are addicted to you and the way you love, possession, the goth kids from southpark 😭, the hot detective in crime/horror films, small snowy village, probably went through a creepypasta phase, alex g, rlly cool piercings, coraline, uniquely shaped snowflakes, ending up on the scary side of Ao3, twitter, tumblr on multiple occasions, whimsigothic clothes, bela lugosi's dead, american horror story, finding solace in painful memories, joe goldberg (derogatory), exploring abandoned buildings, dark crystal, Evanescence, religious imagery, cathedrals, questionable taste in people, alluring eyes, creepy cute dolls, interest in the paranormal, sirens and pixies, deftones, obsidian, malachite, lavenders, twilight, overgrown houses.

: ̗̀➛ Pisces venus

shells, frozen lakes, Falls for the wrong people, likes the idea of light and dark energy.. yin and yang.. opposites attract type of beat, gives out too much love, normally the medic or healer in video games, always there for moral support, grandfather clocks, mermaids, poison tree by grouper, randomly remembering early childhood memories, angel numbers, spiritual/astrological tattoos, auras, maladaptive daydreaming, falling for the idea you create of people, kogal gyaru or Himegyaru, snails or turtles both seem very wise :), castles, the backrooms LMAO, angels, water lilies, american horror story (specifically the coven and hotel season), ENA, blindly following a cult or being the cult leader, playing in an empty park, rainbows, cottages, persephone and hades, blue lace agate, aquamarine, mazzy star, the cure, koi fish.

<<Hello everyone sorry for my long hiatus! It has finally come to an end!! School has already started for me so I’ll try post once a week however that’s just me saying shit and it’s not guaranteed 😭 I hope everyone has been doing well :))>>

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

brand new ficlet!!! now on ao3!

(okay tbh that was a lie... i wrote 90% of this 2-3 years ago... but i never finished it nor published it... so HERE WE GOOOO)

read day 18 here - was too tired to make a post yesterday. prompt: one of them is sick

i wanted to gift this fic to @justanobsessedpan because you requested it about 3 years ago 💀 but ao3 didn't let me (apparently you don't accept gifts?! or do you use a different username?)

summary: Sherlock got COVID and has to isolate himself from his family. So, what happens to a genius locked in? You guessed it right, he promptly saves the entire earth.

M, 2.776 words, Fluff. Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Parentlock, Sherlock is a Good Parent

tag list under the cut!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @booksoversleep

[necros-writing-stuff]

Eden sits in his old, rickety chair, an old book in hand. The fire crackles away, wind whistling through the tiny cracks in his cabin's walls. All of it familiar, the same things he'd seen, heard and felt for the past two decades alone out here.

All the same, but one thing. The sound of dishes being scrubbed behind him; clinks and clacks with splashing water as the wood creaks everytime you shift on your feet.

You've been such a breath of fresh air in Eden's life. A warm hand caressing his cheek on a winter's night. Even if you hadn't settled in quite so well when the huntsman had first carried you across the threshold.

Once again his attention returns to the novel in his palm. It's one of his oldest, a prized 2nd edition of a Victorian romance where a rich Lord's child would sneak kisses with their stable boy. The two would confess their love in the dead of night, with hay in their garments and horses sleeping peacefully despite the danger the two were in because of their affair.

There's a creak in his neck as Eden sneaks a glance at you. You have that look, he thinks, of a noble person. Of a gentlefolk who should be sat in a parlour drinking fine wines. While he had all the appearance of a brute - a hired hit man - rather than even the stable boy in the story. Did you think that too? When he had you beneath him at night, did you have to hide your disgust at how he looks?

You smile when you catch him staring, drying off the final fork with the towel as you make your way over. He wishes he were a poet, or good with words in any way. He'd tell you all of the feelings he gets when he sees that smile. He'd tell you how he still get butterflies when you touch him, just like now when you're climbing into his lap.

"Heya, handsome," you whisper as you press your soft lips to his cheek.

Eden's eyes flutter shut as he waits for you to shuffle into a comfortable position, your forehead resting beneath his chin as he tucks you in close.

He isn't handsome. He truly is the brute, you're just lying to him to keep him happy. He knows that he's just a freak playing pretend, it's all he's ever heard since he was a child.

It's a reality reflected in how he treated you. He doesn't regret any of it - not even when you'd ball your eyes out and scream. But Eden can't deny how ugly it has been.

Your head tips back, lips once again meeting his skin to pepper kisses down his throat and send shivers down his spine. His fingers itch with a need to touch you back, the book being slipped onto his little side table so that he can cup your stupidly beautiful face in his palms.

"You stuck in your head again Big Bear?"

A loud groan rips from Eden's throat, sick of that stupid nickname you'd thought up a couple of weeks ago.

"No," he huffs, only serving to make you giggle into your next round of kisses, these ones ending with three in a row on his lips.

"You're a terrible liar, but I'll let you off for a price," you tease, wriggling your hips as your face pulls away from his own.

His attention fully bought, one eyebrow shoots up, his head tilting to the side. The hunter can certainly guess what you have in mind. "Go on, love. What do I owe you?"

Slowly, your body climbs off of his own and sinks to the floor in front of his chair, your hands stroking down his chest as a cheeky smile tugs at your sweet lips.

Eden may be a brute, and you a beauty far above his station. Yet, in moments like this he can choose to believe that you see him as the gentleman he wishes he could be.

[marzipanandminutiae]

have you seen kaz rowe's video essay on the fashion in crimson peak?

Yes. I...didn't like it much.

For one thing, the idea of "tuberculosis chic" seems wildly misrepresented in a lot of Pop HistoryTM. From my research, it was less that women tried to look or act like they had consumption and more like the symptoms of consumption could mimic pre-existing beauty and behavior standards. It didn't change fashion; fashion led to the romanticization of the disease.

I also feel like the idea of the beautifully consumptive heroine doesn't apply here because:

Nobody has consumption. Edith coughs blood into a handkerchief, sure, but we know what's wrong with her. There's no mysterious Victorian novel disease going on.

Edith doesn't look more beautiful when she's sick. She looks sick: hobbling around crouched over, hair dry and frizzy, eyes red and squinting. There's no point being made here about the ~beauty of illness~ if the ill woman looked much better when she was well.

They also kept mentioning mourning, which surprised me because mourning only appears twice in this movie: at the funerals of the Cushing parents. Lucille's black dress would not have been suitable for deep mourning due to its red rose, shiny silk underskirt, and brown acorn passementerie. And later/lighter mourning would really only be recognizable as such in context, given that black was also just a fashionable color.

That video honestly turned me off of Rowe's content in general, though I could be persuaded to try it again given that that was one of their earlier pieces.

[kcrossvine-art]

Hey folks n blokes! A few days ago ya might've been one of the people who helpfully responded to my question asking which LotR recipe we should cook next, and you all had great ideas. Including a golum salmonella sushi platter. There were a few that twinkled directly into my eyes, but only one fish gets fried at a time! Thanks @vensre for the suggestion!

Today from Lord of the Rings, we will be making Bilbo Baggin's Seed Cakes

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Seed Cake?” YOU MIGHT ASKIf you're an amer*can like me, you might have never heard of a seed cake outside of the context of bird feeders.

Salted butter

Fine sugar

Whole milk

Eggs

Almond flour

Vanilla extract

Brown sugar

Caraway/fennel seeds

Ground anise seed

Ground nutmeg

The real key ingredient here is the caraway seeds. The factor that ties all recipes together. Important note, anise seeds and anise stars are 2 separate things!

AND, “what does a Seed Cake taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKTastes like what an old bookstore smells like.

Smells like warm licorice

But without the chemical-y aftertaste

Take a shortbread and make it denser and with less airpockets. Thats your texture.

A little bit like gingerbread but nuttier, earthier

Very rich

Beautiful crumbly brown outside, soft teddybear-brown inside

Pairs well with a glass of milk hahaha

"A wonderful blend of sweet and savoury, seed cakes make a perfect after-supper morsel."-LotR Online. Mentioned both in the books and the MMO, being served after dinner ties into their real-life origins! Before caraway seeds in cakes became popular in the victorian era, they were often candied and served as dessert because caraway seeds help with after-meal indigestion.

. used an herb grinder for the anise seeds . used light brown sugar where brown sugar called for . used blanched almond flour . if i made this again, would probably use higher quantity of nutmeg or add cinammon

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From entering the kitchen, to having this in my stomach, it took roughly 2 hours? Ish? Definitely make sure to let your 2 sticks of butter and 3 eggs sit out a bit beforehand so they reach room temp, it helps them whip together the warmer they are.

The most difficult part of this recipe was finding the seeds. Everything except the caraway/fennel and anise seed i already had, and maybe its a recent thing but since when did grocery stores start charging such an obscene amount for a regular bottle of spices? Is it not enough to have everything else infected by price-gouging, now we'll be scraping pennies for our little flavor heavens? Bleh. 

The seed cake is a new experience for me also, and many pardons if some sacred seed cake rule has been broken today. It tasted fantastic! The licorice was a strong flavor I've never experienced in this form before, it suits itself well. If you're baking for children or have a sweeter palette, the bitterness may be a bit much, but just have them dunk it in milk honestly. It did feel like there was some 'empty space' on my palette while eating- if that makes any sense? It couldve been layered with another flavor but i still can't put my finger on what that missing flavor could be.

Definitely be careful to put the eggs into the butter/sugar a little bit at a time. I got impatient the first-go, and the eggs incorporated less, and it led to a greasier cake. People seem to say that storing these and eating them the next day makes them taste better, i cannot attest as i ate both within the same day of making them. 

This recipe has earned itself a glimmering 7/10, for making my kitchen smell nice but also making me use a standmixer if i want my arms to stay attached (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

220g salted butter

225g fine sugar

16g of milk

3 eggs

175g almond flour

2 drops vanilla extract

Pinch of brown sugar

1tbsp caraway seeds

1 1/2tbsp  ground anise seed

1/2tsp ground nutmeg

Method:

Pre-heat the oven to 320F. Soften the butter and let eggs come to room temperature. 

Cream the butter by itself for around 5 minutes with a standmixer on med., until light in color. Add sugar and continue until the mixture is pale and fluffy.

In a seperate bowl beat the eggs until 'frothy'. 

Stir a small amount at a time of the eggs iinto the butter and sugar mixture, making sure each portion incorporates as you go.

Add the caraway, ground anise seed, ground nutmeg, and vanilla extract.

Gently fold in the almond flour. Careful not to overmix.

Add a tablespoon of milk, or until the batter keeps its form but drips off an upside down spoon.

Pour into a greased 9-inch round cake pan, if not available muffin/cupcake pans should also work.

Sprinkle a bit of brown sugar on top.

Bake for 40-50 minutes. Cool for 10 before serving.

[bellemorte180]

WIP Wednesday

No idea if this is going anywhere or if I have the energy to keep working on it.

The doc is called *Victorian Ghost Story* has I do not have a title as of yet.

London, England

September  1841

When Caroline was a small child, no older than five, her mother had told her a bedtime story. The specifics of the story she could not remember but as she listened to the rain splatter against the glass of her window, she only hoped that it was true. Having it rain on one's wedding day was meant to be a good omen. If she was honest, Caroline needed something good in her life. 

Even if it meant marrying a man she barely knew. 

Peering at herself in the mirror, rust lingering in the upper corner and the small crack just to the side that showed the vanity’s age, Caroline wished that her mother was there to hold her hand. She would do anything to hear the whispered reassurance that she was doing the right thing. That this was more than some act of desperation. The white lace gown, a new fashion among the Ton, was beautiful even if the high neck collar felt choking. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head with ringlets hanging in her face. She was beautiful, but as she looked deep into her own blue eyes, she could see her own uncertainty peering back at her. 

Life had gone from black and death, to white with possibility in the span of a few weeks. When she had dreamed about her marriage before knowing who her groom would even be, this was not how she envisioned it to begin. Once she had been the envy of the Ton, a debutant to rival royalty only to be pushed from her pedestal and to crash to the ground, broken and injured. Time had moved onward, the rumor mill fresh with something new and Caroline was left to grasp the first hand that was outstretched to her. 

A soft creek of the door hinge echoed loudly and Caroline’s head snapping upward, watching as the door open in the mirror. Her heart skipped for a second only to feel relief to see Elena looking at her as though she was about to shed the silent tears she was known for always having ready. Caroline did not know who was more terrified of this union, Caroline or Elena. It should be Caroline, as she was the bride but something told her that Elena won that particular competition. 

“Stop looking at me as though you’re about to attend my funeral. I’m not wearing the right color.” Caroline told her, trying to keep her own voice from shaking. She watched as Elena’s shoulders tensed, the reply just on the tip of her tongue but Caroline cut her off. “I’m sick of black if I’m honest.”

“This isn’t a joke, Caroline.” Elena snapped, walking across the bedchamber and stood just behind her. She placed a soft hand on Caroline’s shoulder. The last year had been nothing more than a nightmare, forcing Caroline to rely on Damon Salvatore’s kindness. “You do not have to do this. It's not too late..”

“The bans have been read and I made a promise. I can’t break it.” She peered into Elena’s brown eyes that looked at her in the mirror. “And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a burden anymore. No one is forcing me down the aisle. I chose to accept him and I’m not turning back now.” 

“You’re not a burden! We love having you. Grayson is devastated that you’re leaving and-”

“I’ll miss you and your little boy but I know Damon is ready for me to be gone. You’ve been kind to me this past year, letting me spend my mourning with you-”

“It’s bad enough that Katherine has married into that family but you?” Caroline let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. She hadn’t been in attendance for Katherine’s wedding. It wouldn’t have been acceptable given that she was draped in black and in mourning but it had been the topic of Elena’s fury for months. “You can stay here. We’ll figure something out-”

“For me to be your governess? Or perhaps the maid?” Her tone was bitter and the slight wince on Elena’s face made her feel slightly guilty for her words. Elena had been nothing but kind to her. She reached up and took her friend’s hand into hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry. That was rude but it's true. This is the best chance I have and Katherine has been kind enough to arrange it.”

“But you know what the Ton says about him!” Elena cried, the same argument she has had since Caroline’s engagement was announced three weeks prior came tumbling out again. “Mr. Castle vows that Klaus Mikaelson is a monster and that he-”

“It's nothing more than rumors. The Ton feeds off scandal and gossip. Look what they said about my father in the wake of his death! Almost all of it was untrue. Sure he was drunkard after Mother died, murdered in a back alleyway behind some gaming hell and the entirety of our estate went to pay off his debts, including my dowry but the rest was fiction and Katherine assures me that so are the rumors about Mr. Mikaelson.” 

“But Lucian-”

“Hates him. I don’t know why but he will see Klaus burn if he could.” Caroline was not proud to admit that she once had been as shocked and scandalized at the rumors of torrid Mr. Mikaelson and the horrid acts he may have committed in the north of England. “I don’t want to argue about this anymore.”

“But you don’t even know him!” Elena cried, not willing to give up the fight. She was like a woman possessed, wanting nothing more than to thwart her sister's plans and schemes. “You’ve had what? Four conversations with him? That's it? That is not enough to make a marriage, Caroline.”

“Women have married with much less!” Caroline placed her hand back on the vanity and curled her fingers, gripping the wood tightly as she grew more and more annoyed with Elena’s persistence. “A marriage of convenience is better than not having a place to call home.” She knew that Elena was itching to state that this was her home but Caroline did not allow her to utter the same thing over again. “I have nothing to my name and he wants to marry me anyway. That is enough for me.” She stood, bravery born out of spite and annoyance cursed through her veins. “Now. Enough of this. There seems to be a break in the rain and we need to get to the church.” 

Caroline didn’t look back as she left the chamber that she had slept in for the past year but she felt Elena’s mournful gaze on her. 

The wedding itself was simple. Damon held her arm as he walked her down the aisle, a cousin on her mother’s side and the nearest male relation she had to give her away. Only a few people lingered in the pews as she said her vows, her hand placed in the crook of her new husband’s arm as he guided her back down the aisle.  The faces peering at her as she passed held expressions more suited for a funeral than a wedding. 

Katherine was kind enough to throw the wedding breakfast. Her husband, Elijah Mikaelson’s home was bigger than Damon’s and seeing that Elena was against the marriage all together, she was more than happy to play the hostess. Caroline leaned back in the chair that was still and uncomfortable, the plate of pastries sat uneaten in front of her and watched how smug Katherine appeared in the aftermath of the vows Caroline had just spoken. 

Elijah sat quietly, holding a soft smile as Katherine enjoyed the attention the successful wedding breakfast brought her. One would think she was the bride and not Caroline. It was small and intimate but it was enough for Katherine to beam in pride; a smirk that only grew bigger as Elena glared at her twin sister from across the room. The sound of thunder rolling through the room as the storm continued to rage outside.

“It is strange how they can look identical but have such different personalities.” A whisper echoed from beside her, causing her to turn to gaze into the ice blue eyes of her new husband. Her skin prickled from the warmth of his breath and she froze at the sight of his dimples creasing, his smile appearing to be calculating and cold. His blonde hair was curlier than hers, a few strands hanging down into his eyes while the rest was a purposeful mess. “I get the feeling that your cousin’s wife does not like me very much.”

“That is an understatement, but you knew that when you came to ask Damon for my hand.” Klaus gave a chuckle and not for the first time, Caroline wondered what had occurred in that study between the two men. “You seemed annoyed that particular afternoon despite the fact that Damon agreed.”

“He is a rather unlikable man, no offense as he is your family but it is true.” Caroline couldn’t help but laugh, a small but genuine smile growing on her lips. She noticed, for a second, Klaus’s grin grew slightly warmer. “And I cared little for his permission. It was your acceptance that I wanted. Not his.”

“So, if I would have said no, you never would have asked him?” Caroline remembered the day that Klaus asked for her hand. It had taken her by surprise, as she was not expecting it. They strolled through St. James’s Park as Katherine trailed behind, ensuring that their movements were anything but chaste and innocent. It had been the third time he called upon her, conveniently arriving every time she had gone to pay Katherine a visit. He had taken her hand into his, pulled off her glove and ran his thumb along her knuckles. The small touch was enough to cause her hair to stand on end, an unfamiliar caress that she was not used to. His words were not long or eloquent but simple and to the point. 

Marry me, Caroline. 

“No. I wouldn’t have because the choice was always yours.” She felt her skin flush under his gaze. The shade of his eyes grew darker for a moment, his gaze flickering to her lips but he did not lean in, the memory of their small kiss in the church playing on both of their minds. She had never been kissed before, but a man had never touched her hand either. “I remember the first time I saw you.”

“It was in this very room if I recall correctly.” Katherine had invited her around for tea, only to introduce her to her brother in law mere moments after they sat down. It was painfully obvious what Kahterine’s agenda was and with Klaus appearing both charming and interested in her, it was hard to turn away his advances. Especially when she had so little options. 

“That is when we met but not the first time I saw you.” Caroline turned to look at him in confusion, her body shifting in the chair in order to make gazing at him easier. “I had just returned from my estate in Leeds and Elijah was freshly engaged to Katherine. He wanted to attend a funeral of a man he never met because he knew she would be there.” Klaus reached under the table and took her hand into his, pulling off her glove just as he had done in the park three weeks earlier. “There you were, draped in a black veil with tears streaming down your cheeks. Both Katherine and Elena on either side of you as your father was lowered into the ground. I didn’t know you but I wanted to.”

“I don’t remember you being there. No one had really come-” Words failed her but she continued to look at him. Memories from that day were hazy at best. Her vision was blurred with tears and she wasn’t able to look away from the casket that held her father. His death felt different than when her mother had died. It was brutal and harsh. She remembered how warm the sun had been on her skin and the smell of dirt as it was tossed into the grave.

“It was a hard day Caroline, I didn’t expect you to remember me. That's why I asked Katherine to introduce us.” 

“You waited a year for me to come out of mourning?” The confession was confusing at best and terrifying at worst. Suddenly Katherine’ insistence that Caroline accept Klaus’s advances were so clear. Caroline only knew him for the span of a few weeks but he had been thinking of her for over a year. This was not as sudden for him as it was for her.

“You were not the only one in the midst of grief Caroline. We both had our share of mourning to do.” He lifted her hand to his lips, the kiss felt as though it was burning against her skin. She did not care that there were a series of whispers echoing around them or that that rain had slowed to a drizzle outside. All she could feel was his lips and the heat that coursed through her body. “But I promise you that I will do everything to make you happy.”

Outside, the sun broke through the clouds and a ray of sunlight streamed through the windows.    

[samiwife]

I will always say that I love the way you write because it's really beautiful (I've read them about 10 times) Could you write some headcanons with Robert Plant or Jimmy Page? Because you're really cool at writing headcanons (I admire you😓😓)

Oh my god thank you so much!!!!! I love writing headcanons! Thanks 4 the support <3 Hope you enjoy <3

Headcanons and Preferences 𓆩⟡𓆪 (Ft: Robert Plant)

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

𓆩⟡𓆪 = Headcanons

Would always sleep in and you'd bring breakfast in bed for him

Collects records of his favorite bands

Walks around the house with a half-opened shirt exposing his chest

Great with kids

Always asks for kids

Cares a lot about his hair

Has a lot of hair products

Dances a lot in the living room

Constantly moving around otherwise he goes insane

Loves nature

Loves going on walks

Wears a lot of jewelry

For some reason he loves goats

Tries to work out but just gives up

Loves traveling

Would sing for you when you're sad

Would take care of you when you're sick

Sometimes he plays soccer in the backyard

Reads late at night

Loves fruit, especially oranges or apples

Always smells like tea, especially Earl Gray Tea

You always play with his hair

You also always mess with his hair

You tie up his hair in different ways

When he's sick he always drinks tea and listens to records

Sometimes he makes his own bracelets and necklaces

Rides his bike down the street to go to a nearby cafe

Tries to play guitar for you but gets mocked by Jimmy for not being good

Smokes cigarettes outside so he doesn't bother you

Gets jealous easily

Craves attention from you

Would stare down the person he's jealous of

Would make it known he's mad or jealous

When he's horny, he pulls you in closer and whimpers in your ear

Very slutty in bed

Moans so LOUD

VERY good during sex

He always loves it when you pull his hair during sex

Loves swimming

Eats scones a lot and drinks a lot of tea

Loves clothes shopping for you and himself

Holds your hand a lot

Has SUPER warm hands

SIngs anytime and anywhere

Would stare you up and down when taking off your clothes

Sometimes you cut his hair

He always talks in big words

Has the softest lips

Also, he has the prettiest eyes

HAS MAJOR BIG DICK ENERGY AND HE DOES HAVE ONE

Loves buying paintings and making some

Sleeps like a sick Victorian child (HAHA I'LL STOP)

Wears tight pants to show off his "size"

When you're injured, he'll carry you on his back and take you to safety

Always makes tea for you

Loves lying in the grass with you

Stealing his shirts is a must

Makes funny faces while singing

Winks at you constantly

Kisses on the neck and cheek are constant

Would say "baby" 20 times a day

Sometimes he calls you "mama"

You think he has a mommy kink (HAHAH I'M SORRY)

You sometimes think that he and Jimmy have a thing with each other

Sometimes he wears big fur hats to cover up his bad hair days

Lastly, he always cares about you. Even if you're mad at him. He'll try his best to make you happy again. He'll buy gifts, he'll hug you and kiss you to make you feel better. He will do everything in his power to make you love and notice him

THANKS 4 READING <3 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES <3333