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nothanksimnothungryrn · 2 months ago
Calories of popular alcoholic beverages
Vodka: 97 calories per shot (0 carbs, 0 sugar)
Beer: One 12-ounce bottle contains 153 calories (13 carbs, 0 sugar)
Rum: 97 calories per shot (0 carbs, 0 sugar)
Tequila: 105 calories per shot (0 carbs, 0 sugar)
Whiskey, bourbon, scotch: 105 calories per shot (.03 grams of carbs per ounce, .03 grams of sugar per ounce)
Gin: 110 calories per shot (0 carbs, 0 sugar)
Champagne: One 4-ounce glass contains 90 calories (3 carbs, 1 sugar)
Wine: One 5-ounce glass of wine contains 123 calories (4 carbs, 1 sugar)
Baileys: One shot contains 147 calories (11 carbs, 9 sugar)
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hiboudecheshire · 4 months ago
Soviet restaurants: range and prices
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Hello comrades, I found a thing that can be interesting for you - lists of prices from USSR restaurants! First of all, I would like to remind that average salary in 70s-80s was about 150-160 rub. for common people, like engineers or employes, also there was a system of “allowances” for length of service or special experience or “merits to the state/party”. People with high titles, including scientific, earned a lot more - I’ve heard that Legasov’s salary was about 500-600 rub. per month, and this is extremely big money for that epoch! 
So here we can see prices in an average cafe in 1975 - this is a simple confectionery, quite cheap. The “branded” ice cream is 0.86 or 0.50 or 0.34 rub (I think the main difference is toppings), ice coffee “glasse” is 0.15 rub, simple “black” coffee - only 0.06, coffee with cognac - 0.30 rub. Glass of juice (tomato, birchen, apple or mandarin) - from 0.10 to 0.28 rub. Cake - 0.26. No much alcohol here, but you can order a cognac (10 cl) if you have 2.60 :)
There’re few cocktails here! First is “Tango” and it cost 1.78. Ingredients: 5 cl of cognac, 5 cl of port wine, 4 cl of lemon liqueur and 1 cl of sweet cherry compote. Second is “Amber” for 1.32 rub and it includes 15 cl of champagne, 3 cl of lemon liqueur and 3 cl of mandarin jam. And the third one is “Sunbeam” for 0.31 and here we have 10 cl of apple juice, 2 cl of “foreign liqueur” (what is this, I don’t know) and 4 cl of ice cream.
Sounds nice, don’t you think so? So let’s go to the restaurant “Havana” in Moscow, this is the list from June 1980. Unfortunately I didn’t find the whole menu, but we can see prices for starters and drinks:
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The most cheap salad is “Salad of fresh cucumber” for 0.28 rub, the most expensive - “Chicken salad in Cuban style” for 2.48. Also we have here “Cocktail of seven seas” that is obviously assorted of sea food (3.60), and some fish starters for 3.80 or 3.84. Red “granular” caviar costs 4.97 and caviar of dog-salmon - 3.64. 
The list of drinks is not very impressive - although there’re a lot of positions printed (I think it was a common form for Moscow restaurants or smth), in fact they had only three - vodka (1.72 for 10 cl or 8.60 for bottle), rum (1.60 for 10 cl or 12.00 for bottle) and Moldavian semi-sweet wine Fetiaska (0.51 for glass and 3.57 for bottle).
Do you want to see pure chic? Here is the menu of “Metropol” one of the most prestigious restaurants in Leningrad, printed in 1982.
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Here is the list of “branded” dishes: starters, main courses and desserts. The most expensive position is “salted salmon with lemon” for 4.14. Filet “Metropol” costs 2.13, chops “Hunter-style” - 1.69, fish “Hamburg-style” - 1.52. For desserts here are “Olympian” apple for 0.82, “Metropol” ice cream for 0.63 or “Surprise White night” (don’t know what is this) for 0.53.
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We don’t have alcohol here (don’t know why, because “no alcohol law” remained in force in USSR only from 1985 to 1990), only tea and coffee. Simple tea costs 0.02, with sugar - 0.04, with jam - 0.12, with honey - 0.27. Simple coffee is for 0.19, with sugar - 0.21, with milk - 0.31. There’s also “coffee with cognac” for 0.91 and with a mark XXX - may be it was prohibited. 
The first proprietary restaurant in Moscow was opened in 1987 and it was called “Kropotkinskaya, 36”.  This is their menu for 13 May:
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Fresh vegetables for 2.00, salted vegetables for 2.00 too, cold veal for 4.50, smoked tongue for 2.50, a portion of shchi (cabbage soup) - 0.70, baked veal - 5.50, meat on a spit - 6.00 and “drink” (what drink, who knows...) for 0.30 and coffee for 0.50. 
That’s all for today! I hope it can be interesting or, you know, useful for fanfiction ;)
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@4everflowercore @connihd​ @borislegasov @elenatria​ @rbmk-ana​ @litttlesilkworm @johnlockismyreligion​
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theshelbyclan · a year ago
Am I bothered?
Summary: Domestic bliss in the Shelby household means taking bullets out of each others arms, while lecturing each other constantly
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A/N: Requested by anon, based on the random prompt list: can I ask for some 13;15;19;35;39;49 with Tommy shelby where the reader got shot? please? btw I really adore your work 💕💕💕🌺 love and kisses 13: “I really want to kiss you right now.” 15: “Where did all those bruises come from?” 19: “Stop whining. It’s just a bullet.” 35: “Are you flirting with me?” “It took you long enough to notice.” 39: “Is that blood on your collar?” “…No?” 49: “Make me.”
This was the longest list of prompts ever requested all at once, but I gave it a go best as I could ;) Hope you like it! Words: 1275 ***
As soon a Tommy saw the love of his life lying lifeless on the ground, he broke out into a sprint. He could feel his pulse in his ears, his heart pounding in his chest and the world surrounding him had disappeared. Without really noticing it, he pushed people aside left and right and fell down at your side. “Y/N!” he urged, “Y/N, talk to me! What the fuck happened?” You grumbled something in reply, but it was impossible to make out the words. Relieved by the fact that you could still talk a little, Tommy picked you up in his strong arms and carried you inside the Garrison. With one arm he wiped a table clean and bellowed for everyone to leave at the same time. Then, ever so gently, he put you down on the table. Now the world was quiet again and you opened your eyes slowly. The smell of blood penetrated your nostrils and for a moment you wondered whose it could be. “Y/N,” Tommy said again, softly, “What happened?” Concern was written all over his face. “Fell over,” you replied, feeling suddenly more annoyed than anything. Tommy frowned a little and he stepped back in confusion, “You fell over?”You sighed deeply now, “I got shot, Thomas, in case all the blood escaped your attention.” The last thing he’d expected at a time like this was your sarcasm, though he should have, because this was your usual way of communicating any emotion really. “Howdid you get shot?” “A man pointed a gun at me and decided to squeeze the trigger.” Another irritated grumble escaped his lips, “Tell me the man’s name, Y/N.” You decided you could try and sit up a little, but Tommy urged you back down at once. Craning your neck, you looked at your arm that still had the bullet lodged firmly inside it. It hurt like hell, to be honest. So, Tommy started to tear your lovely dress to pieces, to get to the wound. Then he noticed how your arm was starting to turn black and blue in other places as well, “Where did all those bruises come from?” he demanded. “We had a bit of a scuffle, before he pulled a gun,” you explained, as matter-of-factly as you could manage. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” Tommy rolled his eyes, “What did I tell you about keeping that mouth in check, eh?” “You tell me lots of things, Thomas.” He raised his voice suddenly, “And look where it gets you when you don’t listen! You. Never. Fucking. Listen!” Each word was accentuated with another rip at your clothes. Trying to lighten the mood a little, you smiled at the man and said, “Stop whining. It’s just a bullet.” Tommy turned around a went in search for a knife in the bar, “You could’ve been killed.” Hurt crept into his voice. “But I wasn’t!” you called out, “Now, stop acting like a little girl and get this bullet out of me!” “You’re sounding more like your brother with each day,” Tommy muttered to no one in particular, as he grabbed the nearest bottle for you to drink before the make-shift surgery. You took one look at the chosen bottle and commented, “Not that one.” “I’m not taking you out on a date!” Tommy shouted out full of exasperation, “I’m trying to numb some of your pain and clear the wound. It doesn’t fucking matter which bottle!” “Not that one,” you repeated, adamantly. “How about this one, eh?” Tommy complied and held up a scotch whiskey. You scrunched up your nose in disgust, “Is this how you treat a lady who just got shot?” He pointed at you from behind the bar, but you could see some mirth had crept into his eyes, “Behave.” “Make me,” you winked. And so Tommy grabbed a third bottle and held it up for your approval. You nodded slowly. Rum was always the way to go, in your opinion. “Drink this,” he ordered, “Because this is going to hurt like hell. Now, I know you, Y/N, I know you’ve been acting tough from the start, but that bullet’s in a bad place. Might take some time to get it out. Keep drinking, go on, good girl.” You smiled at him, “I trust you, Tommy. Besides, I know you’re good with your hands…” “Are you flirting with me?” “Took you long enough to notice!” Again you tried to lighten the mood, not just for Tommy, but the erase some of your own fear as well. “Ready?” he asked, and you nodded bravely. When his knife entered your arm and he starting feeling around for the bullet, a scream filled the air and it took some time for you to realise it had come from you. White-hot pain tore your arm apart and you would give anything to just be allowed to slip away. But that would upset Tommy, so you couldn’t do it. There was nothing to do but feel the pain, every long second of it. “Is it done?” you asked, when it suddenly ceased. He held up the bullet with a triumphant look on his face, “But now comes the worst part.” “Oh joy,” you joked, “Just get on with it. Quick.” As he threw the rum onto your arm, you were absolutely certain you would pass out. But then you felt his hands cupping your face and his lips brush against your ear as he whispered calming words. And for the first time ever, you did as he told you: you breathed, breathed, breathed… and the pain lessened. Lying down on the table, you stared up at Tommy and discovered the small smirk that played around his lips, “What are you grinning about?” “I always knew you were tough,” he shook his head slowly and lit a cigarette, “But you took that better than most men I know did.”“It fucking hurt, Thomas.” “I know it fucking does,” he smiled down on you again, “Maybe that scar will serve as a reminder to keep out of trouble the next time, eh?” You rolled your eyes again, “Thomas Shelby, when will you learn: women don’t want to be told what to do.” “You do sometimes,” a mischievous twinkle came into his eyes and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Fine,” he said, in a more serious tone, “What do women want?” “I really want to kiss you right now,” you said softly. He sighed dramatically, “What does a man have to do to get you to take a bullet wound seriously?” “Between kissing you and some minor injury, I’m not bothered much about the bullet wound,” you said, pulling him closer. And taking enormous care not to touch your arm, he bend over and kissed you. And just as his sweet lips had left your again, he ruined the mood, again, by asking, “I still need that man’s name, Y/N.” Opening your mouth to give him another witty reply, you suddenly noticed some red, standing out against his pearly-white skin. Full of indignation, you stated, “Oh, you’re one to lecture me about getting into fights! Telling me to keep my mouth in check and having the audacity to tell me to fucking behave?” Tommy let his head fell forwards, receiving this lecture as well like a child used to them, “What is it this time?” “I had that shirt cleaned the day before yesterday,” you pointed at it, with a look that tolerated no games. “Yes,” Tommy confirmed, clearing his throat. 
So you stared at him pointedly, “Is that blood on your collar?” And Thomas Shelby actually crumpled a little, “…No?”  ***
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goodybagblog · 2 months ago
Russia x England Fanfiction Rec List (all fics completed)
Last Updated: August 5th 2021
Disclaimer: Based on my own tastes. Many of these are NSFW but I’ve included ratings and content warnings.
*If any author wants their work removed from this list, I’m happy to comply!*
1. Chubby Chaser - KassyMalone
Rating: K+
“Arthur Kirkland knows there's nothing wrong with his friend Ivan Braginskis weight, but he'd been told he's bias, especially since his ex Alfred was a big boy too, until Francis came along and stole him. As Arthur and Ivan grow closer, it becomes clear that Alfred and Francis aren't done with Arthur yet.”
Note that this contains past USUK and one sided FrUK.
2. Unwanted - KassyMalone
Rating: T (by author) but I’d say it’s more M - Sexual assault, mentioned domestic abuse, murder and non-consensual drug-use.
“When Francis' mother got married again, he found himself with four rowdy, dirty boys for brothers that he never wanted. As time passes, he notices that being unwanted is something the youngest brother, Arthur, knows pretty well. He tries to be a good big brother, but nothing is ever as easy as it seems, especially as romance and yet more new brothers get in the way."
Includes one-sided ChinaxEngland.
3. Mine - KassyMalone
Rating: M
“France had always loved England, but not in a romantic kind of way. His feelings started to change when he noticed other nations with their eyes on his Britain. Now France has what he wants, but those other nations aren't willing to give up on having England to themselves so easily...”
NOTE: This is not a RusEng fic but contains RusEng scenes. In this story several characters, including Russia, are in love with Arthur. Also in the final chapter there is a hypothetical scenario in which England and Russia end up together.
4. Ya Tabya Lyublyu, I Think - GrasperGroupie
Rating: M (highest rating allows) but this is entirely smut and is actually E.
“A few of the Allies hit up a bar after a meeting. Arthur wants nothing to do with the insistent Frenchmen, and everything to do with a certain Russian.”
5. Darker Than Morning - CreamPuffBunny
Rating: M (highest rating allows) but this is smut and is actually E. Includes non-con, torture, murder, death.
“Post Apocalyptic World. Humans and demons are at war. General Arthur is captured by demon general Ivan and made into a slave. After forming a plot with his ex-lover Arthur plans to seduce and destroy the demon Ivan. But will he succeed?”
This is a HEAVY story and I don’t recommended it if you are sensitive. This story also includes past USUK, GerEng and RusPrus.
6. Neighbour - Fire_Bear
Rating: E - Smut and dom/sub undertones.
“Arthur ends up in a lift with his neighbour, Ivan, who he apparently drunkenly declared his love to. Despite wanting desperately to escape the awkwardness, the lift stops working and they're stuck together for a few hours. Whatever shall they do...?”
7. Date - Fire_Bear
Rating: E
Sequel to Neighbour (above).
8. Holiday Bookworms - Fire_Bear
Rating: G - omegaverse
“Arthur has to work over the holiday period alongside a fellow student librarian whom he's never really spoken to before. With their supervisor called away to deal with a family emergency and a storm raging outside, he finds himself having to speak with the alpha...”
9. Walking the Wire - corbaccio
Rating: E - Gun kink.
“England likes a little danger, albeit not in the same way America does. He likes cold things the same. Rain. Snow. Metal. Russia is both cold and dangerous, and it was with Russia that this started.”
10. Minutes to Midnight - Anonymous
Rating: E
Russia/England smut with the bonus that England is cheating on America.
11. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum - Anonymous
Rating: E
Russia fucking England with a bottle of rum.
12. Off-Record - Anonymous
Rating: E
This is a FrancexEnglandxRussia threesome.
13. The Language of Flowers - CreamPuffBunny
Rating: M
“Ivan is a slave who tends to the gardens of the Bonnefoy family castle. Arthur, a young bastard lord, is always in the shadows of his half brothers: Francis, Alfred, and Matthew. In love with Arthur, Ivan tries to show the unappreciated least favorite son how special and important he is through the meaning of flowers.”
14. Play - Cameleon
Rating: E
This is the story that introduced me to cockwarming.
15. The Fic Where APH Characters Are Monsters and England Goes Into Heat - Anonymous
Rating: E
“Arthur is a Naga. A Carrier Naga, to be precise, and during a very boring meeting, he goes into heat. Luckily, Ivan's there to help him.”
16. Freedom is a Burden - GoodyBag
Rating: M - Includes kidnapping, referenced drug use.
“Imprisoned by Russia, can England hold out long enough for rescue to come?”
The RusEng in this is Stockholm Syndrome, but it’s RusEng nonetheless. (This is my own story and I don’t particularly recommend it, so I’ve tucked it away at the bottom.)
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43sparrows · a year ago
r e j e c t - {Five x Reader} AU!
Read Part 1 & Part 2
WARNINGS: drunkenness
Word Count: 2,133
Note: let me know what you think of this development!
It's a huge ass diamond.
The newspaper is still open on your coffee table, and you can see the grainy black and white picture from your spot on the couch. You shouldn't be able to spot the ring from this far, not with your eyes as puffy as they are, not with the tears constantly clouding your vision, but the small white spot practically glows amongst all the grey. It's probably all the carats.
You snatch a tissue from where the box sits at the end table, running it under your eyes to collect tears and make up. There's a part of you that wishes your roommate was here to bitch about how ugly the girl was and how dumb he was. To remind you of how the sex was only ever good and help get your mind off of it.
But she left for her parents' last night and wouldn't be back until tomorrow evening. So it's just you and Laura Williams' from Channel 13, whose story about a soldier returning home to surprise his pregnant wife is doing absolutely nothing to ease the shaking breaths that leave you.
A knock sounds from the front door, stopping further descent down the spiral. Instead, you push yourself up from the couch and haul yourself over to the door, one shuffling footstep after the next. There's another knock as you undo the deadbolt and pull the door open.
Five stands before you with eyebrows raised. His look shifts slightly as he takes you in, his gaze intensifying as he studies your face. A wave of anxiousness crashes over you, leaving a gut twisting feeling of embarrassment in its wake. You've never cried in front of Five. There's never been much of a reason to, but even when you've stumbled into things or had a bad day, you've always been so careful to keep it in. It seems like just your luck that he'd walk in on you feeling your absolute lowest.
"Bad time?" he asks.
"Kind of," you say, wiping at the tears under your eyes once more with the tissue that's still in your hand. You hope you don't resemble a raccoon, but you have a feeling that the powers that be aren't taking any of your requests at the moment.
"What happened?" He's direct and to the point, like always. No offer to kill someone for you or gently asking if you want to talk about it. Still, it's a bit surprising that he's waiting for an answer as opposed to teleporting away.
"Just a long day. A long bad day," you needlessly clarify. His head tilts slightly but he doesn't press you on it. He doesn't need to. "Work is rough," you offer up.
"That sucks," Five says.  He either doesn't know you well enough to tell you're lying, or doesn't care enough to try. Either way it cuts deeper than it probably should. You blame it on the fact that you're emotionally raw right now because there are only so many truth's you're capable of facing at once. And you're already feeling overloaded. Your head keeps cycling through the same five truths.
You'd been with your ex for two whole years and he'd never even broached the topic of moving in.
It only took him eight months to fall in love and get engaged to someone else.
In the same eight months all you got was a friend with benefits minus the actual friendship.
All you want is to be hugged and there's nobody around who'll do that
You're all alone.
The near silence between you seems to exacerbate this last truth, only the sound of Laura Williams' voice in the background announcing a new birth at the zoo cuts through the quiet. It's almost a full minute of willing your eyes not to water before Five speaks again. "Do you want me to leave?"
You're not sure if he's being the world's biggest asshole or doing his best at being considerate. You are sure there's absolutely no way you can make it through a session with him without bursting into more tears. You're also sure that you don't want him to leave. Not at all.
"I'm not really up for anything right now," you shake your head, looking down at the crumpled and stained tissue that's still in your hand.
Five doesn't say anything, and you bet he's either nodding or still staring at you like he's trying to read your thoughts. And then you see his feet angle themselves away from you, ready to leave. Your heart sinks in your chest. You shouldn't have expected him to offer to stay. To comfort you. You need to stop hoping for things that he would never--could never--deliver. Because being warm and caring--that's not Five. It never has been.
"Hey." His voice calls to you, and you hate how quickly your head snaps to him. "Make some coffee, take a bath, and put on something other than the news."
You nod as he offers a ghost of a sympathetic smile before turning and vanishing.
You close door, walk back into your apartment, reach over for the remote and turn off the news.
It's approximately six hours later, and you're still on the couch but at least now you're surrounded by all of your new closest friends: Jack, Jim, Johnnie, Jose--all of the J's  and of course remnants of the Captain from last time you and your roommate made mojitos.
Who the fuck needed people when you had these guys and a playlist of 2000s hits.
Not you.
It was a good thing your roommate wasn't home. There's no way she wouldn't have made fun of your dance moves as you let the beat of the Black Eyed Peas' "Don't Phunk With My Heart" take control of your limbs. And while to the outside eye it might look as if you'd lost control of your motor skills, it felt good just giving in to the influence of the music and your friends.
You turn more quickly than your legs are ready for, stumbling over yourself to face the person in your apartment. You just barely catch yourself by throwing out a hand and bracing yourself against the coffee table.
"Five?" you ask, squinting your eyes at him. You can't tell if his face is more amused or bemused. For some reason all you can focus on are his raised eyebrows. He nods at you, tilting his head slightly.
"What are you doing?" It takes a minute to parse his voice out from's rapping.
"Dancing. What are you doing?" You return back, pushing yourself back up to your feet. His eyes run over you and your apartment, seeming to take in the scene more fully. From the fact that you're only wearing a bralette and sweatpants (which has never been your style but you spilled one of the whiskeys on your shirt) to the various pages of the newspaper scattered around the floor and the song pulsating through the apartment.
Don't you worry about a thing, baby / 'Cause you know you got me by a string, baby.
Five takes a step forward, examining the assortment of bottles on your coffee table.
"You called me," he says, picking up the bottle of Jack Daniels that doesn't have more than a swallow left in it. "Eight times. Did you drink all of these?" he asks, gesturing towards you with the bottle.
You scoff at the ridiculousness of the question. As if you could drink five handles of liquor and still be on your feet. "No, they were mostly empty."
He nods, putting the bottle back down on the table and then looks at you out of the side of his eye as the song ends.  "Are you going to tell me what’s really going on now?" Five asks, turning slowly to face you fully as the intro for the next one picks up. You pause, staring at him as your brain tries to piece together what he's asking you. It's not until the verse picks up that it clicks. You nod, reaching for the nearest page of the newspaper. It's cartoons. It takes a few more tries to find the right page before you thrust it at Five, the beat continuing to increase the anticipation, and you find yourself rocking to the song and waiting for him to finish reading.
Never meant to make your daughter cry / I apologize a trillion times.
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson--
"Ooh," you sing along to the one part of the song you're able to keep up with. Five tosses the paper onto the table.
"Your ex?"
You nod, bouncing your shoulders to the beat.  "He's getting married,"  you sing at Five despite the fact that it is not a line to the song and you are horribly off tune.
"Statistically, it'll only last eight years," Five responds, but his eyes continue to linger on you, watching as you make a horrible attempt at lip syncing the rap. He pauses, narrowing his eyes lightly before asking: "You're still…in love with him?"
This elicits another scoff from you. "No," you say as if he's stupid for even suggesting it. "No, no, no-no." You stumble towards him. "He--no," you shake your head, grabbing onto Five's arm so you can brace yourself. You pause, squeezing at his tricep, momentarily distracted by how muscular he is.
"Y/N," Five prompts, and you look up at him and into his green eyes.
"I just wish I had something to shove in his face," you say, withdrawing your hand from Five so you can cup your hands to hold this imaginary item. "Something to show him how wrong he was about me. You know? I'm fucking future material," you say shaking your hands in Five's face. You step back, grabbing the handle of Captain Morgan from the coffee table. "But it looks like he was right," you mumble, looking down into the clear liquid that sloshes at the bottom of the bottle. "The fucker was right. I'm a reject." You lift the rum to your lips to take a swig only to find it yanked from your grasp.
"Hey!" you shout in protest, reaching for the bottle, but Five shakes his head and finishes it off before you can get it back. "Asshole," you mutter, brow furrowed.
"You didn't need it," he says, placing the bottle down as you glare at him. Five turns and begins to walk away towards your bedroom. He pauses half-way there and looks at you. "Are you coming or not?"
You almost trip over the couch in your hurry to follow him.
You do tumble over when you make the poor decision to try to take off your pants on your way to the bedroom. Five's head sticks out your door at the sound, and seeing you on the ground, pants wrapped around your left ankle and right calf, he sighs and comes back out. After a few moments of furious kicking, you're free of the pants and Five is bending over you. It takes a second to realize what's happening, but the next thing you know he's hoisted you over his shoulder and is hauling you off into the bedroom. The act sends tingles racing through your body in anticipation despite the fact that your head feels significantly more cloudy, and it's hard to focus on much.
Your back hits the mattress, and Five is bending over you, but something is off. He's not on the bed. And his hands aren't on you. Instead, he's creating a wall of pillows behind you. As he draws away, you catch hold of his arm and tug him towards you, lifting yourself up off the bed enough so that your lips connect.
Even though your world is fuzzy, the feeling of his lips against yours are enough to keep you grounded in the moment. You reach up with your other hand to pull him even lower, to deepen the kiss, to make him join you in this bed where he belongs, but instead he backs out of your grasp, gently breaking himself free. It would sting more if your limbs weren't so heavy, if your eyelids weren't drooping, if you weren't already half asleep.
You wake up the next morning feeling like shit.
Everything hurts and it seems like your skull is actively trying to split itself in half. Getting out of bed is a process that looks far more like coordinated falling than getting up and at 'em. You walk heavily, stiff legged into the kitchen, and there is one piece of mercy.
Sitting on your counter is a full carafe of coffee with a mug and bottle of aspirin sitting next to it.
You feel a little less like shit.
Read Part 4
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beautiful-and-terrible · 6 months ago
dazed ‘n‘ confused (part 3)
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A/N: 3500 fuckin’ words y’all lmaooo i am so stupidly invested in this dumbass and his hot neighbor.
Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC
Warnings: underage drinking / drug usage, dubious consent (both parties inebriated), swearing, etc.
Nicole shouldn’t have worried so much about what to wear. When she showed up in Rodrick’s garage, his friends Ben and Chris were there, both dressed in ripped jeans and flannel shirts paired over band t-shirts. By comparison, Nicole’s black skater skirt and combat boots felt almost fancy.
“Hey, I’m Ben,” the dark-haired one holding a red electric guitar came up to her and gave her a fist bump. She almost laughed, not having fist-bumped anyone since she was 13. “Nicole,” she replied, smiling.
“I’m Chris!” the blonde called over, waving, before turning back to adjusting his microphone and checking the settings on their audio.
Rodrick seemed to appreciate her style, at least. He came through the garage door, carrying a four-pack of Monster energy and whistled, giving her a quick up-and-down glance, “Hey, groupie.”
Nicole punched his arm as he walked by. “I came here to listen to you play, so… play.”
“Your wish is my command,” Rodrick said with a dramatic bow.
Nicole found a relatively comfortable spot as far from the speakers as she could get - this wasn’t a concert, but loud speakers could still be painful after an extended period of time. The clack of Rodrick’s drumsticks alerted her, and before she knew it there was a blast of noise and a blur of limbs.
Honestly, he wasn’t bad, Nicole thought to herself after they had played a few songs. He could use a little more control, but what musician didn’t get caught up in their music? Glancing outside, Nicole saw that it was finally growing dark out. The sky had turned a soft purple, and she could see a few fireflies flashing in the cooling grass. She checked the time on her phone - 9:15.
“Hey, do you guys know Caitlin?” she asked the group. They turned to look at her.
“Caitlin Irving or Caitlin Peters?” Ben asked, taking an impressive gulp of Monster before burping loudly. The boys fell into fits of laughter. Nicole couldn’t help laughing, too.
“I don’t know her last name, she works at Starbucks, though.”
“Ohhhhhh, Caitlin! Yeah, we know her. Why?”
“She invited me to a party tonight, but I don’t really know anyone but her. Would you guys wanna be my plus-three?”
Ben and Chris high-fived each other, and Rodrick saluted her with his drumstick, whacking himself in the head in the process. Nicole hid a laugh behind her hand, not wanting to embarrass him. “For sure, Nikky. As long as there's drinks, we’ll be there,” Chris said. 
“C’mon, we can take my van,” Rodrick said, shoving his drumsticks in his back pocket and running inside to grab his keys. The other boys started down the driveway toward the white van, garishly painted with the band's name on the side in bold, black letters.
When Rodrick returned, Nicole gave him a smug look. “I thought it needed repairs?”
Rodrick stopped walking mid-stride, looking like a puppet caught on its strings. “Uh. Yeah. Well. My dad helped, when you were over at your house. Getting ready. It’s fine now. He’s the best mechanic I know.”
“Uh-huh. You sure you didn’t just… want to ride home with me from work?”
Rodrick scoffed. “You wish.” But as he rounded the front of the car to the drivers side, you caught the scarlet color of his cheeks against his tan skin. As if he could be any more endearing, he even offered Nicole shotgun. Chris grumbled the entire time, but begrudgingly gave you the seat he had worked so hard to acquire. 
“First stop - Capital. Ben has a fake, so we can BYOB,” Rodrick said, practically peeling out of the driveway. Nicole clutched the seat for dear life, heart stuck in her throat.
“Are you sure this thing is secure?” she squeaked, feeling the seat shaking a little in its bolts.
“No one has been ejected yet, Nikky,” Rodrick laughed.
“Go-go gadget get me the fuck out of here,” Nicole groaned, planting her feet on the floor to try and stop herself from flying forward as Rodrick squealed to a stop in front of a seedy looking liquor store.
Ben barely avoided taking the sliding door off its tracks when he opened the door. Chris lit a cigarette in the back, the acrid scent wafting to the front of the van. Nicole didn’t mind the smell much - honestly it reminded her of her Grandmother's house - but she hoped the smell didn’t linger on her clothes. That would be hard to explain to her mom. Speaking of, she sent off a quick text to her parents telling them that she’d be back late. Luckily, Nicole had always been the responsible type, so her parents trusted her to make good decisions and as a result, let her have free reign of her life (especially now that she was 18).
Ben returned after a few minutes, carrying a 24 pack of Natty Light and lighting his own cigarette.
“You have the address?” Rodrick asked, and you showed him Caitlins text.
“Yo, that's in Heather Hill’s neighborhood. Maybe we can tee-pee her house later,” Rodrick said, already zooming off again.
“Heather Hills?”
“Major bitch,” Chris called from the back of the van. Rodrick shrugged. “She’s not a bitch she’s just… not very nice.”
Nicole laughed, “You don’t have to defend the honor of all women by not calling her a bitch. If she’s a bitch, I believe you.”
Rodrick looked at you out of the corner of his eye, thinking briefly.
“Yeah, she’s a stone-cold bitch. She ran over my foot once. With her car.” 
Nicole grimaced in sympathy.
“Last year, we played at her Sweet Sixteen party, and Rodrick broke her ice sculpture bust. It was awesome,” Ben said.
“Oh, so you aren’t always perfect?” Nicole teased. Rodrick flipped her off.
Soon, they pulled up in front of Caitlin’s house. Nicole could already hear loud music from outside the house, and there were rainbow strobe lights flashing in the windows. Swallowing her nervousness, she followed Rodrick, Chris and Ben up the front walkway.
As they walked in the house, Nicole was hit by the fragrant, herbal smell of weed. From far away, the music had seemed loud, but coming in the house the music seemed to vibrate her ribcage - it was something with a repetitive bass, stuff Nicole didn’t normally listen to but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She followed Rodrick further into the house, trying to find the kitchen, weaving between people dancing and couples making out.
There were people surrounding an island in the center of the kitchen, decorated with colorful bottles of liquor and sodas to mix with. Nicole spotted Caitlin talking to a tall black guy, drinking out of a red solo cup. Nicole gave her a wave, and Caitlin excitedly came over to greet her.
“Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”
“Yeah, me too. I haven’t actually ever been to a high school party.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Well, you’re gonna have one hell of a first high school party experience, girly. Let's get you a drink.”
Caitlin turned to the kitchen island and poured about four shots of rum and filled the rest with coke in a red solo cup. Nicole took a sip. She could barely tell it was spiked, so she took a few more chugs and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. 
“Do you wanna dance?” Caitlin asked, and Nicole nodded before following her back to the living room. Already, the rum was making her limbs feel looser and her brain fuzzy. She finished the rest of it in one go, enjoying the feeling of her nervousness and insecurities fading away. Nicole had never been unpopular, per say, but she tended to stay to herself and only had a few close friends at her old school, anyway. It was refreshing to feel included, and she couldn’t help feeling that this was the way her teenage years were supposed to be - loud and exciting and living moment to moment.
As they danced, Nicole swaying in place and occasionally spinning around, she couldn’t help but feeling a little awkward. Caitlin was actually a really good dancer - she knew how to move her body in all the right ways so they hit on beat with the music. Nicole envied her easy grace, but was quickly relieved when Caitlin accidentally bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink. Nicole stifled a laugh, not at Caitlin’s expense, just at the irony of the timing. At least Nicole wasn’t the only clutz. 
They had been dancing for only a few minutes before Nicole felt a hand on her waist, making her jump slightly.
“Hey, the guys and I are gonna smoke some weed in the backyard. Do you wanna come?” Rodrick said. His voice was almost in her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the blaring music, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. 
She turned around to face him - in the dim light of the house, he looked much more appealing than usual - she hadn’t even noticed he had put eyeliner on, but it made the dark of his eyes look even more obsidian. Nicole nodded, giving a thumbs up, and pulled Caitlin along with her.
“I need you for moral support,” Nicole said, making Caitlin laugh.
“Have you ever smoked weed before?” Caitlin asked.
Caitlin raised her eyebrows and pulled her closer as they walked to whisper in her ear.
“Okay, take a small hit the first time, don’t try to impress anyone. But breathe it fully into your lungs - I like to start by pulling it into my mouth first, and then inhaling fully. And if you cough, don’t worry, almost everyone does their first time.”
Nicole gave her a grateful look as they approached the circle of people sitting on lawn chairs in the backyard. Ben and Chris were already there, with two other girls Nicole didn’t know. However, there seemed to only be two more lawn chairs available to sit on.
Nicole was about to plop down on the grass before Caitlin grabbed her hand.
“You should sit on Rodrick’s lap,” she whispered, and Nicole almost choked on her drink.
“Dude, he’s totally into you - I don’t know what your sitch is, but I think he’s probably a little nervous about making the first move. Just do it, and if he asks, say ‘sorry, there weren’t enough seats and I don’t wanna get bug bites from the grass.”
Nicole stared at her, mouth agape. The alcohol in her brain was telling her it might not be the worst idea ever. And you know what? Fuck it. You’re only young once. Nicole made up her mind, and squeezing Caitlin’s hand, she walked over to where Rodrick was sitting before primly making herself comfortable on his thigh.
She felt him tense beneath her immediately, before his hand came up to her waist to steady her. Before he had the chance to say anything about it, the joint was passed to him, and he took an impressive hit, the cherry glowing red at the end for several seconds. Nicole watched him with interest, hoping she wouldn’t mess up too badly and embarrass herself. 
Rodrick looked up at her as he exhaled the smoke, holding the joint out to her. Not paying attention, and entranced by the eye contact they were holding, she reached out to take the joint without looking and promptly burned her hand on it.
“Fucker,” she hissed, shaking her hand to try and get rid of the pain. Rodrick just laughed.
“Do you want help?” Rodrick asked, before taking another hit of the joint. He reached up behind Nicole’s head, threading his fingers through her hair, before pulling her down close to his face, their lips inches apart. Nicole instinctively opened her mouth, half from surprise and half in anticipation of being kissed. But Rodrick simply blew a steady stream of smoke into her mouth, - their lips didn’t make contact. Belatedly, Nicole realized she was supposed to be inhaling, so she did quickly, trying to hold the smoke in her lungs for as long as possible. 
Somebody wolf-whistled in the group. Nicole was pretty sure it was Caitlin.
Eventually, she ended up coughing it out, Rodrick rubbing her back but still laughing.
“You’re a green at the green, huh?” Rodrick asked, and Nicole rolled her eyes.
“That obvious?”
“Yeah, but it’s cute. I’m glad you’re having your first high with me,” Rodrick said, smiling sweetly. Nicole’s stomach fluttered. Already, she could tell that this wasn’t alcohol she was feeling anymore - the buzz she had been feeling earlier was replaced by something much slower and velvety, like the world was moving through maple syrup.
“Dude,” Nicole said after a minute, realizing she had been staring at nothing. Rodrick looked at her. She looked at him. They both started cracking up laughing.
“What are we laughing at?” Nicole hiccuped through her laughter.
“No idea,” Rodrick said, wiping his eyes free of tears of mirth.
“Rodrick, pass the J,” Ben called out, breaking the two of them from their trance. Without thinking about it, Nicole leaned back onto Rodrick’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his body. It wasn’t a cold night, per say, but Nicole was only wearing a skirt and a t-shirt, and she had always had poor circulation. She shivered involuntarily.
“Do you want my flannel?” Rodrick asked, already taking it off. Nicole sat up, ruffling his hair playfully.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just want to show off your arms,” Nicole said, slipping on the warm blue flannel and resting her hand on Rodrick’s exposed arm, once again in a cut-off tank top. Rodrick gave her a funny look.
“What do you mean?”
Nicole suddenly found herself tongue tied. “Uh. I mean. You just wear a lot of tank tops.”
Rodrick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Nicole leaned back against him again, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and exhilarated. They had never touched for this long before. She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but she liked the direction it was going. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Nicole felt more comfortable with Rodrick than she did anyone else - even though most of the time she had known him, he had been a nuisance to her. Well… maybe not a complete nuisance.
It was funny to think that only a few days ago, Rodrick was just an annoyance she dealt with at her job and admired from afar, and now she was sitting on his lap, wearing his flannel. She leaned her head back, looking at the stars. She hadn’t noticed that Caitlin had left, but suddenly she appeared over her line of vision, grinning.
“Do you want a beer?” she asked, holding a cold can over Nicole’s forehead. Nicole reached out to take it, sitting up before cracking it open. She wasn’t in the habit of enjoying beer for the flavor, so she’d rather get drunk off it quickly. It tasted like wet cardboard, but Nicole managed to chug it down.
“Damn, girl, where’d you learn to drink like that?” Chris asked, laughing as Nicole belched loudly. 
“Years of rigorous practice and intense concentration, young padawan,” Nicole replied.
“Do you wanna shotgun one with me?” Chris asked, half-joking, but Nicole was feeling overly confident from the buzz she was feeling and readily stepped up to the challenge.
“Whoever spits it out owes the other ten bucks.”
“Fuckin’ deal,” Chris grinned, Ben cheering him on as he threw a beer toward Nicole. She (surprisingly) caught it.
“Wait, gimme one,” Rodrick said, making grabby hands in Ben’s direction, who threw him a beer.
“On three, okay?” Ben counted. They all started to crack open their beers, Nicole with her house keys, Rodrick with his car keys, and Chris with his pen knife.
“One.. twoooooo…. Three!” Ben yelled, and they all tipped their heads back, drinking from the hole in the side of the can. Nicole’s eyes watered, but she was too competitive to back down now. Foam spilled out of the side of her mouth, but she kept drinking. She could hear people chanting her name as she finally threw the beer can down on the ground, raising her hands in victory. Both Rodrick and Chris were covered in beer foam, but Nicole somehow stayed relatively clean, minus the beer she wiped off her face.
“Ten motherfucking bucks, Chris,” Nicole slurred slightly, grinning at him as he pulled out a crumpled bill from his pocket and threw it at her. 
“Rodrick, how the fuck did you lose, dude? You were the one who taught me how to shotgun,” Ben said, causing Nicole to throw her head back in laughter, before letting out another massive burp that lasted for several seconds. The whole group dissolved into laughter. 
Eventually, the joint got finished, and people started to move back inside. However, Rodrick and Nicole stayed outside, talking about whatever came into their heads.
“Were you ever into Greek mythology as a kid?” Nicole asked, watching Rodrick’s eyes go comically large.
“Does Percy Jackson count?”
Nicole pretended to consider it deeply for a moment, before shaking her head. Rodrick pouted. 
“I only got into Greek mythology because of Percy Jackson. So, I think it still counts.
“Fine. But do you know shit about the constellations they’re associated with?”
Rodrick pointed at the sky, at a random cluster of stars.
“For sure - that's Dingus Humongus, he was a Greek hero with the fattest ass known to man.”
“Sounds like my kinda guy,” Nicole replied, sticking her tongue out as Rodrick squawked in indignation.
“Besides a fat ass, what do you look for in a guy? Not, like, that I care. Just. Wondering.”
“Very good English, Rodrick,” Nicole laughed, “I guess my type is… someone kind. And funny. Someone who tries to be cool and is actually a huge dork. And musical, that's always a plus,” she said, feeling very bold as she looked directly at him. It took Rodrick a moment, but eventually his mouth formed a small “oh” as he realized who she was talking about. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Then he frowned, “I am not a dork.”
Nicole rolled her eyes, “And I’m totally not waiting for you to kiss me right now.”
Nicole watched as the color slowly rose in Rodrick’s cheeks, turning them rosy pink, visible even in the shadow-drenched backyard. Nicole decided to pull yet another risky move, and adjusted herself on Rodrick’s lap so that she was facing him, her thighs on top of his arms around his neck. For such a seemingly confident boy, Rodrick seemed more nervous than she had ever seen him, even when he asked her to come to band practice earlier. Hell, he hadn’t even been that nervous to shotgun the joint into her mouth.
“Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I don’t wanna be bad at it,” he confessed. Just as Nicole thought she couldn’t be any more endeared by this boy. She slid her hands into his hair, thick and soft. She leaned in and gently nosed at his jawline, placing small kisses against his warm skin. Right at his jugular, he smelled like cologne and nighttime and boy, the right mix of clean and sexy. Seemingly gaining his courage, he grabbed Nicole by the back of her head and brought her up to his lips.
It was soft, at first, merely a press of skin to skin, but the two gradually deepened the kiss, moving against each other like they were made for it. Nicole felt like her heart might beat out of her chest - or maybe she was just that high.
Feeling emboldened by Rodrick’s enthusiasm, she slipped her tongue between his lips, gently tangling their tongues together. He let out a low moan, and Nicole could’ve blacked out from how turned on she was by that simple sound. The warmth of his body against hers and the slickness of their mouths together caused a rush of liquid heat to form between Nicole’s legs. Goddamn, he was good at this. Nicole wasn’t sure how many girls Rodrick had kissed before this, but if he was a rookie at this she was damn impressed.
Rodrick’s hands, which had been resting on her waist, slowly moved down her ass and under her skirt, causing Nicole to gasp as he started to knead and grab at her cheeks - not hard, but enough to get her even more hot and bothered than she thought possible.
“Is this okay?” Rodrick asked, his voice low and rough. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” Nicole replied, running her fingers through his hair and scratching her nails down his neck. She felt him shiver beneath her, sending a heady rush of power to her stomach and lower. He pulled her closer to him by her ass, so that their crotches pressed together. Nicole was taken aback by the sensation of his bulge pressed against her, but didn’t pull back, instead grinding down on him.
“Are there still people out here?” Rodrick asked shakily. Nicole pulled back and looked over her shoulder - the backyard was empty, thank god.
“No, just us,” Nicole said, turning back and bringing her lips to his ear, biting and licking the sensitive flesh. Rodrick whimpered, grinding up to meet her, and Nicole almost lost it then and there.
The alcohol and weed in her system were slowing her reactions, but also kept her from thinking too much about what she was doing - all she could think about was how much she wanted this. Sober, this might’ve never happened - she was too nervous about what he would think if she ever made a move, constantly overthinking her every word and action. This dumb boy, who rode with her to work, who stayed to the end of her shift and bought her slushies, had wiggled his way into her every thought and every beat of her heart. She knew she was fucked.
She only wished it was literally.
Nicole opened her eyes briefly to catch Rodrick’s gaze, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the red-and-blue flash of police lights. Rodrick caught sight of the lights at the same time.
“Oh, fuck.”
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lullabaesstuff · 5 months ago
2 + 13 from the fluff sentence starters list with thomas x reader? ty, i really love your works!! <3
i love u too lovely!
Team up [Thomas]
Thomas x reader
#2 “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”
#13 “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”
from the fluff promt list here!
Word count: 1.1K
Warnings: none(?
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"You want to do what?"
"It's kind of risky, I know," Thomas replies staring at me. A smile hides behind the pout on his lips making me growl "Sometimes I have really crazy ideas but they end up being good at the end of the day, right? That's what you all say. I just...I want you to come with me."
"Why? That's a good question" Thomas is silent, thinking. His brown eyes lose themselves in the horizon leaving me a perfect view of his incredibly aesthetically pleasing profile and his upturned little nose glistening in the moonlight "A very good question. Ah... the only good thing that comes to mind is because I'm an idiot and I need you guys by my side so I don't die trying, what do you think? Was that a good answer?
"Almost. I thought you were going to talk about the importance of friendship?"
"Yeah, that too."
"Uh-huh, so, you guys want to go to a city full of Cranks with the possibility, or not, of bringing Minho back even if you're not entirely sure he's there?"
"No way."
I pick up the bottle of liquor I've been drinking from for half an hour now. Campside is a very boring place if you don't have specific tasks within the different areas this place is divided into or if you finish those tasks too quickly, I do the latter cause there's nothing else I can do while I'm locked up.
Thomas, Newt and Frypanhave been very busy helping Vince to free the wicked wagons that transport kids to their facilities in order to continue with their research regarding the cure for the flare, so we don't see each other that often as we all have very different tasks. I am in charge of engineering along with Jorge and sometimes with the help of Brenda. This is one of the few moments where I can relax, steal a bottle of rum from Jorge's prized collection and hopefully lose consciousness until tomorrow morning. However, my plans are thwarted by the presence of Thomas who, sitting next to me, gives me an amused look as he watches me drink.
"And you guys need me cause..."
"You're part of the team."
"No shit."
"Yes you are. We've been so far apart lately, haven't we? Not just between us, we've even lost some communication with the others. I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay. It's the circumstances, I guess."
"Still, I wish I could have some time for you, I mean, for us. Like it used to be."
"Thomas..." he clicks his tongue taking the bottle of rum from my hands giving it a big sip. His Adam's apple twitches from the alcohol in his throat making me swallow hard, looking away. He understands how much it makes me uncomfortable to hear him talk that way, where it involves both of us in a relationship that doesn't exist. Thomas and I are friends and it should stay that way. Not because we don't want to have a relationship, but because I feel it's not the right time to do so. Later on when all this craziness is over, maybe....
"Okay, I forgot, but you have to admit I'm right."
"You are."
"Fine. So, will you do it, are you going to join us?"
"I must hear the plan before I make a decision."
"Trust me, it's better not to know" he says with a chuckle handing me back the bottle. I take a big sip wanting the liquor to burn my throat "The less you know the easier it will be."
"Oh my god, I'm not drunk enough for this".
Thomas lets out a laugh holding a hand to his chest. I really like to see him laugh. His eyes close almost completely, his hands fly straight to his chest and his white teeth glisten in perfect white rows. The wind ruffles his ashy hair and I don't know if it's like that on purpose or if it's a very timely coincidence. When he finishes laughing he takes the bottle of rum from my hands again, drinking more than half of it in one motion. A little of the liquor escapes from the corner of his lips down his chin and then down his neck where it takes an unknown direction. His brown eyes scan me up and down returning the bottle which gets caught between his hand and mine. Then his naughty fingers snake around the nozzle of the decanter trapping my trembling fingers in his so warm ones. He pulls his body close to mine and even through the wind ruffling our hair I can feel his breath combined with the rum directly on my face making me blush.
"Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" Thomas laughs wickedly, knowing that his presence causes me to have a series of reactions that embarrass me.
"Are you flirting with me?"
"Since first day, you finally noticed?"
"Thomas, you're crazy."
"I am, but maybe you are more so for even thinking about helping me" he says, changing the subject because he knows it makes me uncomfortable "Still, there's a good reason to do it".
"Minho" I say because Thomas can't seem to say his name out loud. I understand his pain, it is the same pain Newt is feeling, Frypan and the same pain I am feeling. We are a family and without Minho we are not complete. I hold his cheeks, noticing the sadness in his hazel eyes. They struggle to hold back tears. He misses Minho. He misses him so much "He's fine, Thomas."
"How could you know?"
"I just trust that he is."
"You still have a lot of faith."
"At this point it's all I have left."
"You're right "Thomas lays his head on my neck letting out a sigh. There are few moments when Thomas is this vulnerable, afraid and letting his tears fall a little at a time. I stroke his back and after a couple of minutes he wipes the tears away, gets up from my shoulder and pretends nothing happened. I smile at him, taking the last sip of Jorge's rum "Well then, what do you say, are you in?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No, not really" he replies, sniffling "but Minho needs us and leaving him in that place is not an option.
"Of course not."
"All we have to do is try to get into the city, watch out for the cranks and then... we'll improvise"
"Yeah, right" I sigh, sensing this is going to go horribly wrong "This is the stupidest plan I've ever heard of in my life, when do we start?
Thomas smiles, stands up and offers me his hand. I hesitate for a moment to follow him, but I know this is the right thing to do. He brings the back of my hand to his lips leaving a small kiss, pulling me with him towards the entrance of the camp where Frypan and Thomas are already waiting for us.
"Right now"
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captaindawsey · 10 months ago
Day 13 of 25 Days of Christmas- Kevin Atwater
Description: You and Kevin have been flirting for a while now, what happens when a new girl comes in. 
Words: 2158
Warnings: slight cursing, child death, jealousy 
A/N: Happy day 13☃️! Holy guacamole, this imagine took me a couple of days to write, but I am so happy with how it turned out. This one is going to be long, so I apologize in advance, lol. But, I hope you all enjoy! Much love! -A
You and Kevin flirted constantly, ever since you joined the intelligence unit well over a year ago. It was no secret to anyone. Anytime he got coffee, he was bringing you one. He’d take you out to breakfast sometime or bring you breakfast at the district. Anytime there was a case that got to either one of you, you’d stay with each other until you felt better. You’ve never felt a connection like this with anyone.
You walked up the stairs to Intelligence and made your way to your desk. You put your coat on the back of your chair, then sat down and logged into your computer. You, Jay, Hailey, and Voight were the only ones there.
“Where’s Kevin and Adam?”
“Worried about your boyfriend?” Jay said with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes. “I’ll whoop your ass.”
Hailey threw a pen at him. “Kevin and Adam went to meet a CI.” She answered you.
You nodded your head. Not a minute later you heard laughter and heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs.
“Well, speak of the devils.” You said.
As soon as Kevin and Adam got to the top of the steps, Kevin instantly spotted you and a bright smile graced his face. He made his way over to you, extra coffee in his hand.
“Hey, mama.” He said walking over towards you.
“Good morning, Kev.” You smiled.
He sat the cup of coffee down, and as soon as he did that, peppermint instantly swirled your nostrils. Your favorite drink of the season. It always reminded you of Christmas and made you have even more Christmas spirit.
“They have the peppermint mocha, already, and you remembered this is my favorite?” You asked with excitement.
“Yes and yes. It just came out today.” Kevin chuckled lightly.
“Hey, we got a case. Let’s go.” Voight said quickly walking out of his office.
You all grabbed your jackets and walked briskly behind Voight. Arriving at the crime scene, you saw a body covered up and another person in an ambulance. You and Kevin walked over to the body, the coroner lifting the sheet as he saw you and Kevin approach. You slightly stepped back when you saw it was just a child. Kevin rested his hand on your back, then bent down to examine the child. After you and Kevin were done, you walked over to Voight, to see what information he had gotten.
After explaining what was going on, you all headed back to your vehicles, then made your way to the district. When you walked up the stairs, you saw someone waiting in Voight’s office. Voight quickly brushed past all of you, each of you looking at each other with confusion. A moment later, he walked out of his office with the mysterious girl.
“This is Detective Aria Carson, she’ll be filling in for Kim, while she’s on maternity leave. Kevin, get her up to speed and you’ll also be partnering with her. Y/N, you’re with Adam. Alright, everyone get to work.”
You looked over at Kevin with disbelief written all over your face. You walked back over to your desk disappointed that Voight partnered the new girl up with Kevin.
Over the next several days, you could slowly feel you and Kevin drifting apart. He hadn’t talked to you since Aria arrived. He didn’t bring you coffee in the morning, instead brought some for her. He hadn’t invited you to breakfast, and the one day you invited him, he said he was with Aria. You bushed it off, not wanting to seem jealous, but everyone could definitely tell you were upset.
Finally, Intelligence had wrapped up on the case, and everyone was ready to head out to Molly’s, this case taking a toll on everyone. Kevin stood up, fixing to head out.
“Carson, you coming with us to Molly’s?”
“Yea, sure.” She said with a smile.
“Alright, I’ll see you there.” He said as he returned a smile.
“Y/N, you coming?” Hailey asked as she got to your desk.
“Uhm, I’m not sure yet. I’m really tired and just want to catch up on sleep.”
“Oh, come one. Don’t let that get to you.” She whispered.
“I’ll think about it.”
She nodded and walked off with Jay. Both of them giving you sympathetic smiles. You turned your computer off and grabbed your jacket, heading out to your car. On your way home, you decided to just stay at home for a moment, then head out to Molly’s. When you got home, you stripped out of your clothes and hopped in the shower. After your shower was done, you got dressed in something a little for comfy casual and then headed out. When you arrived at Molly’s, you noticed Hermann had changed the lights of Molly’s into more festive ones and Even had a little Christmas tree in the corner, that alone brightened your mood up a little. Walking further into Molly’s, you saw Jay and Hailey sitting at a table.
“There she is!” She yelled excitedly when she saw you.
You laughed, taking a seat in front of her. “Where is everyone else at?” You asked looking around.
“Everyone said they’d be here in a minute.” It’s as if on cue, Adam, Kevin, and Carson all walked in.
They all said their hellos and sat down. Kevin kissed the side of your head and tried putting his hand on your back, but quickly brushed him off, letting everyone know you were going to get a drink. You walked over to the counter and greeted Stella.
“Hey, girl. Whatcha drinking tonight?”
“Give me a shot of tequila, please.”
“Oooh, starting out heavy. Everything alright?”
“Not really.” You said.
She handed you the shot. “Trouble in paradise.”
You downed the liquid, feeling it burn your throat and chest. “Something like that. Can I get a rum and coke, please?”
“You wanna talk about it?” She asked as she made your drink.
“Nah, I’ll be ok.” You said giving her a soft smile.
She returned one, but you could see the sympathy in her eyes. She finished up your drink and handed it to you.
“Thanks, Stella.”
You grabbed your drink and walked back over to the table. As soon as you sat down, Kevin’s hand was on your lower back again.
“You didn’t grab me a drink?” He asked, hurt laced in his voice.
“You didn’t ask.” You said shrugging your shoulders.
Kevin just kind of stared at you, confusion written all over his face. He leaned into you, whispering in your ear.
“You alright?”
You simply nodded, taking a sip of your drink. Kevin shook his head, he knew something was wrong but wasn’t going to push you.
“Alright, then. Adam, Aria y’all want something.”
They gave him their orders and he walked off.
“So, Aria. How are you liking Intelligence so far?”
“It’s good, especially getting to partner up with that hunk over there.” She said nodding in Kevin's direction.
Your head quickly popped up from looking at your phone. Hailey quickly kicked your foot, basically telling you to keep your cool.
“Oh, yea Kevin’s pretty great to work with.” Hailey laughed awkwardly.
Kevin came back over and handed Aria and Adam their drinks. He then placed his hand on your thigh, normally you would lay your hand on top of his, but you kept your hands upon the table. He squeezed your thigh to get your attention, when you didn’t turn to look at him, he did it again. You turned your head to look at him.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” He whispered.
“Not really.” You said, averting your attention back to the conversation.
Most of the conversations were just Kevin and Aria flirting. You just stared at your glass, swirling it around every once in a while. Kevin then started telling a story of how Aria tackled a big dude down on the ground.
“Such a badass moment, if you ask me.” He said laughing.
A blush crept up on her cheeks. “I mean it was kind of badass.” She said shrugging her shoulders non chalantly.
At that, you removed Kevin’s hand from your thigh and quickly hopped off your chair and grabbed your jacket. “I’ll see you guys later.” You quickly darted out of Molly’s ignoring everyone calling your name.
Kevin turned back to the group. “Wait, where’s she going?” He asked confused.
You quickly walked to your car. Driving home was the worst, tears threatened to fall and it made it hard for you to see. You stopped at a stop sign and sat there for a minute trying to compose yourself. You finally got yourself together and made it home. Upon entering, you put your stuff down and dialed Kim.
“Kim, can you come over?” You asked as more tears made their way down your face.
“Yea, yea. I’ll be over in just a bit.”
You were lucky Kim lived in the same apartment complex and same floor. She was over in about two minutes, quickly coming to hug you. Sobs wracked your body as Kim held you. After a moment, you got yourself together and Kim pulled away to look at you.
“I’m gonna go get some wine, alright.”
You nodded and shuffled to the couch. Not a minute later and Kim came back with two glasses and a bottle of wine. Kim poured you both a glass and handed one to you.  
“He’s ignored me all week and all of a sudden he wants to be touchy and actually talk to me.” You scoffed.
Kim laid her hand on your knee. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can kick his ass when I get back.”
You shook your head and laughed, something you hadn’t done all week.
You and Kim continued to talk. You talked about the case you all worked on this week since you weren’t able to talk to Kevin about it.
“Damn, sounds like that was a tough ass case.” She said grimacing.
Your conversation was interrupted by someone pounding on your door. Kim glanced over at you with a confused look on her face. You shrugged, not knowing who was pounding on your door. You set your wine glass down and started making your way to the door when some knocked again.
“I’m coming.” You shouted.
You unlocked the door and opened it to see Kevin on the other side.
“What do you want?” You asked anger evident in your voice.
“I want to know why you dipped from Molly’s early, you didn’t even seem like you wanted to talk to me tonight, and you really hadn’t talked to me all week. Did I do something wrong?”
“First of all, you hadn’t talked to me all week, actually, you hadn’t even looked in my direction all week. Secondly, I invited you to breakfast since we hadn’t done that this week and instead you were with Aria. And finally, you waltzed into Molly’s and acted like everything was fine.” You listed off, getting angrier with everyone you listed off.
You heard Kim’s footsteps making their way towards you. “I’m going to go.” She said giving you a small smile and rubbing your arm. She walked off, going straight to her apartment. You everted your attention back to Atwater when he cleared his throat.
“Y/N-“ He started out, but you quickly cut him off.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” You said going to shut your door, but Kevin quickly put his foot in the way.
“Oh no, we’re talking about this. What is going on?”
You huffed letting everything out. “Kevin, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been in love with you for over a year, and I thought you felt the same!’ You exclaimed. “But apparently I was wrong. You’ve done nothing but ignore me all week, and that hurt. It felt like you were going to pick her over me.” You said tears pricking your eyes.
Kevin was stunned, he didn’t know what to say. “Y/N. I- I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just trying to show her the ropes of everything. I wasn’t trying to pick her over you. You’ve been my day one since literally day one, I could never replace you.” He said placing his hands on your cheeks, wiping the tears that had fallen.
“Then why hasn’t anything gone further between us?” You questioned.
Kevin looked up and chuckled a little. “Well, maybe this is a sign to take things further.”
You looked up, noticing the little mistletoe that hung above your door. You had completely forgotten about it being there. You both looked back at each other, Kevin leaned in, stopping right above your lips, he was so close you could feel his breath.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You said closing the gap between you two.
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sl-walker · a month ago
1 5 7 13 14 15 for Adding shadows to the walls of the cave (going old school! Also commenting on that was basically one of my best decisions ever because that's kinda how we met...)
OMG. That is old school. LOL! But I am also so glad you commented on it. <3
1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?
Mostly, I was writing it because I was inspired by a.) all the Legends materials I'd caught up on by that point, b.) because there were still people shipping it in the year 2017??!!!! and c.) because this is literally the pair that clued me in that whoa, shit, I'm queer, way back in like 1999/2000. As to the how, there's no specific reason? I've been writing a long time. The flashbacks/forwards in the story were because I wanted context included for how Obi-Wan and Maul can sit with a bottle of rum and not kill each other, and that they weren't always that easy. I didn't know I was gonna write more as I wrote that one, even though it only took .2 seconds for me to do it anyway.
5: What part was hardest to write?
Maul's initial dialogue. Because like-- Obi-Wan's voice was very easy for me, and we hear a LOT more of it. But Maul's so quiet that I was worried I wouldn't be able to really nail his cadences. Obviously, I got over it. LOL!
7: Where did the title come from?
OOOOH! Hozier's Sedated. It's a more raw song than the story turned out to be -- the song is about addiction -- but I wrote the story to the song regardless of how gentle the story ended up being by comparison. 'Any way to distract and sedate, adding shadows to the walls of the cave.' Another part really jumps out at me, which is the bridge, 'Darlin', don't you stand there watchin', won't you come and save me from it? Darlin', don't you join in, you're supposed to drag me away from it.'
13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?
Just answered! XD Hozier for all the earliest parts of the series. I branched out as I was going through SIOF, but for Adding shadows, it was Sedated and Take Me to Church.
14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?
I was really keen on proving you could do a full canon-divergent AU where Theed did go down as in canon, and the only difference is Maul not ending up on Lotho Minor, and still make them a credible pairing. And I think my storytelling was good enough in Adding shadows to pull it off, though I think SIOF is where it really gets cemented. I also really, really wanted to show people how awesome Maul was when he wasn't losing his mind. There's plenty of fic about Obi-Wan, but I wanted to highlight Maul; his sharpness, his curiosity, his opportunistic and irreverent sense of humor, what he could look like with some space between himself and his abuser. And I wanted it to make perfect sense that Obi-Wan would want to kiss him. XD
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
-snorts- That I can't stop at just one. Because like-- what, a day or two later, I was working on SIOF. But technically speaking-- I'm not sure, honestly. I've been a storyteller a long ass time. Maybe how to effectively use in-line flashbacks?
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lmanberg · 2 months ago
was someone in dreams family an alcoholic? how the hell did dream accidentally drink rum when he was like 13 because it was in a pop bottle. Unless it’s totally different in Florida isn’t it normal for people to keep their alcohol in the original bottle? Unless they’re trying to hide the fact that it’s alcohol
I don’t think they can rum, at least I’ve never heard of it. It could possibly have been in a glass bottle but I don’t know of anyone packaging rum in bottles like that. Wouldn’t be shocking if someone in his family was an alcoholic though, it would explain his hatred of alcohol
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ellynneversweet · 8 months ago
How to make pâté.
1. Start where all such endeavours start — as an enthusiastic eater and indifferent cook, disgruntled at the cost of some particular item or other. In this case, pâté. The good stuff is expensive, even on sale, but the budget liverwurst in the lunch meat section looks uncannily like dog food. There is seemingly no in-between.
2. Notice that the butchers has a slimy, amorphous pile labelled chicken livers, by far the cheapest meat on sale. Remember that pâté is made of liver and wonder why it’s so expensive. Maybe the recipe’s complicated? Buy something you know how to cook, instead.
3. Google pâté recipes, and discover that it’s basically butter and liver, with a few flavourings, fried and blended into a paste. Find a recipe that includes orange zest — your preferred pate, when it’s on sale, has orange in it.
4. Next time you’re at the greengrocers, buy an orange. Don’t bother with onions and garlic — there’s always some in the kitchen. It’s amazing how many onions there are in the kitchen.
5. Go next door to the butchers, ask confidently for chicken livers, having checked your recipe to be sure how much to ask for. Unfortunately, today of all days, they don’t have any. Leave, despondent, with your orange.
6. Go to the supermarket (you were going anyway). Notice, in the crowded meat section, some weirdly dark meat tucked in the corner of the poultry section. Liver! You can’t remember how much you need, and everyone in the store seems to want to be exactly where you are. You can’t find the tab with the recipe you had open. Try not to overhear the conversation of the couple standing by the kebabs. You start to worry that you look like the sort of person who doesn’t know what to do with liver, but is buying it anyway. In a rush, pick up two containers — six dollars worth of liver. That’s about as cheap as pâté on sale gets, surely that’s enough?
7. Get distracted. A day and a half later, remember the liver in the fridge. Panic. How long does offal last, anyway? You’d better cook it all tonight.
8. Spend a fruitless half hour looking for cointreau — you know you had a bottle and it’s only for cooking, how can it have been used up? Give up and settle for some brandy that’s gone all dusty behind the rum and tequila.
9. Pull out the containers of liver.
10. Find the recipe. Realise that it calls for just 250g, and you have somehow bought a whole kilo of liver. Do some quick maths — there won’t be as much orange zest, but you can add some extra juice. Guesstimate four small white onions into two huge Spanish onions. Crush some garlic. Cry, because you’re wearing glasses and you’re used to the protective effect of contact lenses when chopping onions.
11. Realise your phone is about to die, plug it in on the other side of the room.
12. Open the containers, smell the livers. They seem fine, although the smell of chopped onions is so strong you have to get in close. Pick them out one by one — you need to cut the tendony bits off. You’re not sure what you expected chicken livers to look like, individually. They’re bigger than you expected, but not as gross or as slippery as you thought.
13. Find some butter. There’s not enough in the fridge, but there should be some in the freezer. Hack 400g of butter off the frozen brick with a clean knife. It’s a LOT of butter. You feel mildly worried, but put in the frying pan to melt.
14. Cook the onions, garlic and zest in what is basically a bath of butter. Resist the temptation to turn the heat up to a roaring boil.
15. Retrieve your phone — you need to time this, and your patience for slow cooking onions is seriously limited. Check the time. Go on tumblr. Check the recipe again. Tumblr, again. Realise it’s now a minute past the time you were waiting for.
16. You need to remove the onions with a slotted spoon. Retrieve about 70% and give up on the rest. Surely they won’t burn — they’re not even touching the bottom of the pan.
17. Realise that your suspicion that all the liver you have won’t fit in the pan was correct. Divide it in half, watching the time like a hawk. Worry that they’re meant to be frying on the base of the pan, rather than simmering in butter. Resist the temptation to leave them longer, since the usual concern when cooking chicken doesn’t apply here — they’re still meant to be pink on the inside. Wonder why people complain about how bad cooking liver smells. It’s not that strong.
18. Check the recipe — how long do you need to let this rest? Realise you’re meant to boil the brandy into the butter, and turn the heat back on. Eyeball the brandy, glug glug.
19. Find the blender. You need to let it cool, but presumably not so long that the butter in the pan turns back into a solid, so the time taken to find all the bits of the blender and assemble them is probably enough.
20. Put half the ingredients in the blender, awkwardly ladling liquid butter out of the pan. Realise, about this time, that the recipe called for half of the butter to go in the pan, and the other to be held back until you get to the blending bit.
21. Put the lid on, check the seal, pray you’re not about to be sprayed with hot butter.
22. Blend.
23. Open the lid. It smells...pungent. Definitely a pâté smell, but, uh, warm. It’s liquidy, which you didn’t expect. The last time you tried something like this was making marzipan, which has the consistency of play dough even when fresh.
24. Pour the pâté into a bowl, and add the rest of the ingredients into the blender. There’s more butter this time, because you abandon the ladle in favour of picking up the pan and pouring. Blend, again.
25. This is meat soup.
26. Pour it into the bowl with the first lot of pâté. Realise too late that the bowl is too small, and spill what would be a whole serving of store pâté on the counter. Transfer to another (bigger) bowl and stir.
27. Offer the dog, who has been watching in astonishment, a taste off your finger. He sniffs it, declines, and licks your clean thumb instead. He’s a fussy eater, though, so you ignore his opinion.
28. Taste test — it tastes right, even if it needs to set.
29. Consider your enormous bowl of pâté. Is this too much? Possibly. You’ll have to bribe other people with it. Put it in the fridge.
30. Go to the bathroom at the other end of the house. Come out, realise your whole house smells like pâté. Realise the liver smell really is that strong, and, like a Lush employee, your nose had simply turned off.
31. Enjoy???
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horansqueen · 10 months ago
It Feels Like Christmas - Part 2
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It feels like Christmas Just like Christmas It feels like Christmas with you...
Click Here if you want to be on the update list
Have you ever felt like fate was on your side? Have you ever felt like someone, even after just meeting them, was going to have a big impact on your life? It's not like the sky opened and a light beamed down on them or anything. It's not like an angelic song started when they appeared. No, it felt more like a stomach twisting, heart jumping kind of thing. Like there was this certitude inside of you, some thought that turned quickly into a fact, the fact that the person taking a seat next to you, in your taxi, was going to change your life one way or an other. Call it faith, call it intuition, call it a blessing... all I knew was that I had to try something.
"Alright, you're the mysterious kind, I can go along with that." I replied, letting my lips curl slightly, still staring at her.
She smiled back gently and somehow, I could read a 'thank you' in the way she was looking at me. Perhaps she didn't want to tell me too much about herself, but her eyes became soft and I could swear it was not anything against me.
Her eyes left mine and she grabbed the straw in her glass to bring it to her mouth. I stared at her, trying to find the right words to tell her to make sure she wouldn't run away, and I noticed how shy she was. It didn't seem like it at first glance. In fact, you could think she was quite outgoing and social but it was the little things that made me realize she was timid. She didn't mind talking but she tried to avoid my gaze. She accepted my invitation but tried to remain as far away physically from me as she could. She made jokes and laughed at mine but played with her straw nervously when I looked at her.
"Look, I'm gonna be very honest with you Niall..." she held her breath and shook her head before licking her lips. "I really hate Christmas."
Her confession shocked me. I hadn't expected something like that to come out of her lips. I thought she'd tell me she was not interested, that she wanted me gone, or that she was too tired to stay... but her spilling her feelings about Christmas was something I would have never guessed. I mean, I didn't think that was even possible.
"Who doesn't like Christmas?" I asked, a bit baffled, shaking my head and frowning.
"Me. Mimi Armstrong." she chuckled, raising her eyebrows. "Seriously. The lights, and the snow, and everyone rushing in the streets to buy gifts for people they pretend to care about. And the songs... the SONGS. They're driving me insane. All these Christmas trees appearing in malls, kids crying to sit on Santa's laps because their parents lied to them all year long about being nice so a fake magical man will reward them... oh, and the horrible Christmas movies with orphans who find families on Christmas day? All crap."
I stared at her when she stopped talking. She was shaking her head, looking at her drink as she moved the straw in her glass before taking a sip. I just stared at her angelic round face and when she turned on her stool a bit, I noticed her facial expression and something in my heart twisted. Why wasn't Mimi Armstrong happy?
"That's a very cynical way to imagine Christmas." I simply said in a gentle tone.
Slowly, she turned to me, and when her eyes met mine, I felt my heart jump in my chest. Have you ever felt like someone was a total enigma, yet something attracted you to them as if you had known them for decades? Maybe we had met in an other life, maybe her aura just connected with mine or an other weird shit like that... or maybe I was just completely crazy.
"Perhaps I'm a cynical person, Niall Horan, you don't know much about me."
Her lips curled shyly and she chuckled. I don't know how I managed it, but by one in the morning, Mimi was genuinely laughing with me after an intense debate about Christmas, and a funny sharing of Christmas stories.
"Would you like to have one last drink in my room?" she asked, putting her empty glass on the counter and turning to me on her stool.
I felt my lips curl slightly and she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, waiting for my answer.
"Are you trying to get in my pants?"
She chuckled and raised her nose up in a cute way. "I would never do that. I barely know you."
We started laughing at the same time and I let my head fall slightly on my shoulders before we got up. I left a bill on the counter to cover for the tip and followed her to the elevator, staying slightly behind her as she walked. She kept turning around to make sure I was still there, sending me a small smile every single time, and when the doors of the elevator closed in front of us, I leaned on the wall, holding myself with the small banister behind me.
"Are you really inviting a stranger to your room?" I asked in an amused tone, hoping my words wouldn't make her change her mind.
"You're not a stranger." she argued, turning her upper body to look at me. "You're Niall Horan, from Ireland! The guy who's got a guitar for his fourth Christmas! Who gets a guitar when they're four?"
"It was a toy." I laughed. "I didn't get a guitar of my own before my teen years. I used my brother's to learn."
"Alright then!" she gave in with a big smile and a shrug. "Perhaps I don't know everything about you, but that doesn't make you a stranger."
The bell of the elevator made a 'ding' and we both heard the doors open. She took a few steps back and I walked with her as she laughed. "I'm not going to sleep with you though, I just want to make sure you're aware of that."
I smiled more and put both my hands in my pockets. "Noted."
I waited as she unlocked the door and she rushed inside, bending down to look at the bottles in the bar. She brought a bunch of tiny ones and put them on the bed before going through her bag, taking out a red and white gift bag.
"Wine?" she asked, opening the bottle. "God I'm so glad I bought them a twist cap."
"Is that a gift for..."
"My parents." she cut me, nodding quickly before shrugging. "It's okay, I can buy an other one."
We ended up sitting on the bed, face to face, hitting out plastic cups together before talking a long sip of wine. It tasted expensive but I didn't mention it as she leaned against the wall, tilting her head. She seemed to study me and I let her, finishing my glass and filling it again, doing the same with hers.
"What's your favorite Christmas song?" she finally asked before my eyes got smaller as I took the time to think.
"Baby It's Cold Outside."
She frowned and chuckled, shaking her head. "Is that even a Christmas song?"
"Actually, yes it is."
"Do they even mention Christmas in that song? I don't think so." she laughed with a shrug. "It's a winter song alright, they do mention it being cold outside, that much is obvious, but that girl singing clearly didn't go on a date with that man on Christmas."
"Why not?"
I was starting to be intrigued by her theories and even if they always ended up being pessimistic, they were still interesting and I was curious.
"She would clearly be with her family. That girl's got the family values." she pointed out, making me laugh. "Also don't you think that man's a bit pushy? He insists so much after she told him a million times she had to go. He won't let her leave and that is seriously creepy."
"Maybe he feels like she doesn't really want to leave?"
"That's what a rapist would say."
This time, I laughed a bit louder. "Well, I can't say you're wrong!"
"You should find a new favorite Christmas song." she finally said, leaning closer to grab one of the bottle waiting on the bed before looking up at me again.
Her cheeks were red, her smile was immense, and her eyes seemed to shine. It could be just alcohol but she did invite me in her room, didn't she?
"Will do, I promise." I whispered, making her smile turn into a fond one.
We stayed in silence for a while, finishing the wine bottle and glancing at each other. I wanted to tell her something clever but nothing would come to mind. Actually, a lot of things did, but nothing smart or relevant.
"You know, my parents are not really my parents." she finally admitted, making me look up at her quickly. "I mean technically and legally, they are, but biologically, they're not. I was adopted."
"Mmhm," she continued, pressing her lips together and pouring some vodka in her glass. The taste with the wine must have been weird but I didn't mention it. "I was 13 when I was adopted. Which makes the whole thing even harder because, I remember my real parents, you know? When you're adopted as a baby, it's different, but when you have an actual past... a story with your real parents and then you get adopted, there are way more questions left unsaid. It's not that they couldn't afford to have a baby, or that they were too young. They knew you and decided you just weren't good enough."
I felt something twist in my chest as I watched her facial expression change and her eyes water. She cleared her throat and swallowed all the vodka in her glass before making a grimace.
"So you grow up bitter, and become a rebel, because if your real parents couldn't love you, then how could two strangers do? And if they were not going to love you, then you'd at least give them reasons not to." she shrugged and her eyes finally met mine. "But hey, I didn't turn out too bad, considering."
"You're an amazing young woman, Mimi." I let out in a very soft tone. "Whoever doesn't love you is a fool."
She stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes fluttering and her lips very lightly curled into a gentle but tiny smile. She passed her hand in her hair and suddenly. the moment was over.
"What about you? What's your story?"
"Nothing like that." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and grabbing a bottle of rum.
"Perfect family? I'm not surprised."
"No family is perfect." I corrected, opening the small bottle in my hands. "My parents are divorced but they don't hate each other. I don't really get along with my brother but I love him."
"You have people who love you. People who will love you despite everything, no matter what you do, or say." she whispered, licking her lips. "That must be great."
I waited but we both remained motionless. I watched her swallow hard, trying to keep her tears in, and slowly, I got up, took all the bottles left from the bed to put them away, and walked up to her. She let me take her empty glass from her hands and I sat down next to her. She hesitated but let herself fall in my arms, pressing her face in my shirt as I held her close. I leaned my cheek on the top of her head and closed my eyes. She smelled like cocoa and candy cane, and the irony of her smelling like Christmas while also hating it made me squeeze her harder against me. When I saw Mimi, I thought she would change my life but perhaps, I was the one who could shine a little light on hers. And I would do anything I could to do it.
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draphrawrites · 6 months ago
Tag game: WIP Folder 💜
Got tagged by @amidst-stars @juurensha and @silverwordswrites
Rules: Post the file names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous the name. Send me an ask with the title that intrigues you the most and I’ll post a little snippet or tell you something about it! Tag as many people as you have wips!
Sorry I took so long with this 😂 My WIP folder is monstrous, and I was afraid of being Perceived 😂😂 This doesn’t include all of the completed fics that haven’t been posted, just the WIPs skhdjs
1. Canon Fix-It Idea (DabiHawks week may 2021)
2. Doctor, Doctor
3. Something New
4. Mecha Idea (DabiHawks week may 2021)
5. Amnesia Dabi (Dabihawks week may 2021)
6. Hero Student Idea (Dabihawks week may 2021)
7. Cary’s fic
8. Fire Fighter AU
9. When the wolf is at your door (invite him to dinner)
10. Sanctuary
11. Lines Crossed
12. Kiwiii’s fic
13. Manga Dabi
14. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better
15. One Thing After Another
16. Loving You is a Losing Game
17. Who Are You
18. Soft Dabihawks
19. Double Trouble
20. For Your Entertainment
21. Wide-Eyed Dabi
22. Kiwiii collab for DH Bang (aka: Project Trigger)
23. clones
24. A Matter of Perspective
25. The Seas Be Ours
26. A World Apart
27. The Murder of Touya Todoroki
28. Dabi and Natsu Road Trip
29. Everybody LoVs Me
30. Chasing That Horizon
31. Port in the Storm
32. And a Bottle of Rum
33. Dead Men Tell No Tales
34. The BeLEAGUEred Healer
35. Up a creek, with a paddle
36. DH Racing AU
37. Oh, Poolboy!
38. Hijacked
39. Hawks’ Moving Castle
40. Kacchako Mulan AU
Tagging @ohmoka @eraserhawks and @blueskiddoo if y’all wanna do it! 😊 I am not tagging as many ppl as I have WIPs tho 😅😅
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bellatrixxmarierose · 5 months ago
Possibly an Addict *Trigger Warning*
Not sure how to start this but here we go. When I was 10 I drank for the first time not knowing what it was my mother never told me about things like that I guess she didn't feel the need to until moving to a certain place where she said I became a "trouble maker". But anyway a new friend of mine had brought Rum and Coke to school and offered me some and we had a few classes together so her, myself and another friend of ours were passing this drink around for a couple classes. I didn't get drunk though I didn't even learn what exactly I was drinking until I got home that day. That was a fun talk I had to have with my mom about alcohol. I got drunk for the first time at a different friends slumber party about 2 months later, I turned 11 a few weeks prior, anyway her cousin was 4 years older and had a couple bottles of Jack with her and me always wanting to grow up way to fast drank with her. After that night I continued to hang out with her even sneak out at night, which the first night she literally cut my screen open to get me out of the window because it was not budging trying to be pulled up or out(that was fun to lie about to my mother later). Yes, at 11 years old I was sneaking out to go drink and other things this post is not about. I will admit I did other things that did become a problem in my life and I know I was addicted to and thank goodness I have been clean from it for almost 8 years now. With that being said this post is about alcohol as you can see the pattern. She and I were close friends at night mostly with the occasional skip school to go get totally fucked up days or get totally wrecked before school. This friendship lasted for several months before she went away, not by choice. But after that I started to sneak my step fathers rum straight from the bottle and back then I didn't think to replace it with water. He noticed but never confronted me on it. At 12 he allowed me and my new best friend, who I am still friends with to this day just not as close life and all that, but anyway on holidays and special occasions he allowed us to have one drink and one night I got really drunk. My mother and step father didn't realize I had already been drinking prior to the dinner we were having, that was the first time they had seen me drunk and told me I needed to stay home for the rest of the night. After that it wasn't so bad I could control myself a lot of the time. So my mother and step father didn't think it was a problem. I moved yet again this time back to my birth state at 12 and like I said before I was good at controlling myself a lot of the time with alcohol anyway. The times where I wasn't so good at controlling myself were the parties my family would have or occasionally steal tequila from my step father. When I was 13 at one of my Aunt's big parties my step father put my uncles 30 something year old nephew(No relation to me)up to getting me really drunk so I wouldn't want to drink again. It backed fired on him in more ways than one I ended up doing things(not sex but other sexual things) with this 30 something year old man while very drunk and also woke up the next day completely fine no hangover whatsoever much to his dismay. My step father eventually decided if I was going to drink it's better at home where I can't get into trouble. So he stopped caring if I stole his liquor because I was home doing it and not out getting myself into trouble. I had friends over once got drunk and hooked up with a friend who was a girl and apparently straight and lets just say after that night we weren't friends anymore. Things just got awkward after that drunken night together. Well for her I had been openly bisexual for a bit by this point. When I was 15 I started getting drunk with a very good friend of mine, who I am also still friends with, but anyway this time it wasn't at home it was at her house and while drunk we always and I do mean always ended up walking from one town to the other. I still to this day have no idea how we didn't get caught or die. At 16 before I moved again I got drunk with this
friend, her bf, and his friend this time we just stayed at her house, but her bf went from having sex with her to trying with me in front of her his friend had to pull him off me and out the door because neither me or my friend was okay with it even drunk me was not having it. After I moved I had started controlling myself again...a bit. I moved in with my Omie(Grandma) I had a bottle that looked like a bowling pin that was empty when I moved in with her so she would think it was just something I thought was cool. I ended up pouring southern comfort into it later she never knew. She had only caught me drinking one night when I was across the trailer park at my friends she had gotten a phone call saying I was drinking and while drunk I lied through my teeth and made myself so convincing that I was sober she let me go back over for the night. 17 comes along and I am drinking before school again literally walked down the road to my friends house did several jello shots then got the bus to school. Same friends house had a party I not only drank but did a certain drug I had a huge problem with already like I did more than usual of both that night. My lips turned dark blue, I was shaking uncontrollably, and threw up a few times this was also not too long after I had surgery so yeah not the best idea. There's a lot that wasn't said things too hard to talk about that have happened to me and things I did while intoxicated. But being a kid and teen I thought maybe I'm just being a normal teenager and so did my step father and mother. Looking at my adult years I have been so much better at controlling myself with alcohol except when my mental health is really bad...most of the time. I spoke about how the love of my life was an alcoholic in my post "How I lost my mind again" but what I didn't say was my own struggle I constantly want to drink but don't other times are easy not to, some aren't. But since losing the love of my life in October I have just wanted to escape the pain in any way possible. I got drunk off and on until Christmas. Then just completely threw myself into Teen Wolf that I had already watched all the way through a few times before and was in the middle of again because it's my favorite show. But I have been keeping my mind busy off the pain of everything with this show and reading fanfiction about Thiam and reading into all these things about the show...until a couple days ago when I realized that it's getting closer to our 8 year anniversary(May 26). Now it has become harder to keep my mind busy and all I want to do is down bottles of vodka. Funny thing is I had a decent day today, but then night came and I found myself buying 2 bottles of Kissed Caramel Vodka that wont be delivered until tomorrow morning. I don't know if I have a drinking problem because I can control myself at times and then other times I can't. But I do know when I start drinking I have a hard time stopping.
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doctorslippery · 8 months ago
A mermaid.
A merman.
A shark with 2 heads and tentacles where its tail should be.
The net has been chewed through.
A skeleton with different gold bones.
A school of singing fish.
The tentacle of a kraken.
A bunch of crabs with weirdly shaped claws. Some look like they have hands, paws, knives, trident, etc.
A kraken toddler.
The kid of a mermaid & merman. Around 6 or 7 years old.
A 20ft. white lobster.
A severed ear with an attached golden earring.
A message in a bottle.
Dragon-turtle egg.
A poisonous fish that deals 1D8 damage when eaten.
A school of quippers.
A locked chest.
Fragments of a wrecked vessel.
Eggs of a Sahuagin.
A coral/barnacle-encrusted magical weapon/armor.
A concrete block with the remnants of two humaniod legs sticking out. If the players break the concrete, a ring of waterbreathing can be found on one of the toes. Kinda makes you wonder how the person died if it wasn’t by drowning….
A ships intricately detailed figurehead.
A chum bucket.
A pineapple with a sea snail crawling all over it.
A lobster trap containing a crab, a squid, a sea sponge, and a starfish.
A glass ball containing a live squirrel.
A broken leg bone.
A letter in a bottle. Written on the letter is a recipe for a very delicious sandwich.
A painting of a pirate and his parrot.
A bloated corpse that looks exactly like you.
The net is empty, but coated with gritty, pitch-black oil.
A perfectly intact but not fossilized dead animal that has been extinct for millennia.
A fist-sized, segmented black metal pyramid that causes everyone around it to vie for possession of it with increasing violence unless it is submerged in salt water.
A skull of the fishman species with noticeable gouges and cuts around the eye sockets.
The most beautiful piece of driftwood you’ve ever seen.
A rune-covered iron flask sealed with a silver band.
A wooden doll without clothes.
A grapefruit sized stone sphere that mysteriously floats in salt water.
A key carved from bone.
A fine/expensive looking cloak that hasn’t begun to rot yet.
A large cod. (Gold ring in its stomach)
A scroll case with a now-indecipherable treasure map.
Your net is torn from your hands: a DC 25 perception check from on the ship, or a DC15 from in the water, reveals an immovable rod that it got caught on.
A sentient jeweled necklace which appears to be worth several thousand gp but tries to convince the wearer to kill themselves.
An ornate wooden statue of some god or goddess, now covered in barnacles.
A bottle containing one copper piece and a note reading “spend it well”. The coin is too big to leave the bottle.
A sleeping human girl wearing barnacle/seaweed covered clothes that look incredibly old. Once she is relatively dry, she wakes up.
A strange stone tablet with a map etched on it, and writing in Aquan.
A live crab, but made of solid gold and encrusted with gems.
The anchor of a legendary pirate vessel.
A talking fish that offers to grant a wish in exchage for being set free.
A rusty sword that seems to glow, but only when you look at it from the corner of your eye.
A carved stone talisman on a broken cord, tangled in seaweed.
A bottle of rum.
An ancient bottle of wine, encrusted with barnacles.
A brass oil lamp – maybe you should try rubbing it clean…
1d8 spiky green fruits. It will cause you to vomit sea water (and just sea water) if you eat it.
A golden compass and astrolabe.
A sea-elf offering slightly damp sea scrolls for sale. Very handy during storms.
Giant 30ft. clam. 50% chance for a pearl.
Giant lobster being ridden by a sea goblin.
A talking sea turtle.
A reverse mermaid. (Top half fish and human legs).
A bottle with a (d100)potion inside.
A school of fish that cause hallucinations when consumed.
A giant 25ft oyster. Cracking it open reveals a Sea Dragon egg instead of a pearl.
A chunk of meteorite that fell into the ocean.
A glass helmet that grants darkvision and waterbreathing.
A trident.
A shipwrecked sailor.
The leftovers from a sauhaugin attack.
Large orbs that appear to be made of pure water, which are slightly gesticulating (an aquatic variant of gelatinous ooze).
A baby in a basket (race can very based on DM descretion).
A pirates peg leg. Made of two parts, a wide brim that attaches to the leg and the actual peg. Unscrewing it reveals the leg is hollow, with a map on the inside.
A Demigod who had one too many to drink. Return him to their dad to get a reward.
A shackled live Triton.
Several large pieces of perfectly polished sea glass.
An old boot mimic.
A bag of coins from different civilizations, not all of them are from recent civilizations, but all of them are covered in a black, viscous ooze.
A clam that’s sealed shut, with an unbreakable shell. If the shell is pried open, the clan starts signing sea shanties in the wrong key – very, very loudly.
A bottle with a map in it.
An entire campfire, still lit, that doesn’t burn anything.
A small red crab that speaks fluent Common with a melodic accent. Once in the boat it demands to be placed back under the sea.
A barnacle clad silver hand mirror, miraculously still intact. When you try to look at your reflection, you see yourself as a bloated dead corpse.
A sealed container with an important letter inside.
An odd & very fancy looking coffin that is sealed.
A sextant made of coral, covered in kelp.
A harpoon.
Gold coins that are (20d10 x 100) years old.
A whale screaming bloody murder.
The eggs of a kraken.
A very large squid. Could easily be mistaken for a kraken.
The skulls of Giants. 8 to be precise.
The Kraken
A shark with half-formed legs.
A shell inscribed with runes (a mermaid’s love poem).
A giant that was out for a swim. He got tangled in the net.
An octopus with a knife and a salty look in her eye.
A mysterious egg that doesn’t belong to any known species.
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adie-dee · a year ago
I’m having way too much fun with the Lies in the Lilies chapter titles
1. Please Don’t be Dead Dead
2. She’s Like, Obsessed With Me or Something
3. The Inevitable Guilt Trip
4. Thirsty in More Ways Than One
5. Of Course He Was Too Good To Be True
6. No Such Thing as a Straight Answer
7. RIP My Bottle of Rum
8. Dear Gods, What Is That Smell?
9. Finally, Someone Who Can Actually Help Me
10. Is My Real Name Tattooed On My Forehead Or Something?
11. I Did Not Just Say That (Oh Gods, I Did)
12. I’m Not Missing, People Just Don’t Know Where I Am
13. Such the Hypocrite
14. Why Are Prophecies Always in Latin?
15. Time To Go Play In Traffic
16. How Can Someone Not Know They Have Magic
17. Not The Worst Date I’ve Been On
18. Cardio and I are Not Friends
19. I Never Want To Feel This Way Again
20. I Didn’t Know ‘Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire’ was Literal
21. Oh My Gods, Is He Dead?
22. Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty
23. Not One Of My Best Ideas
24. Something Actually Went Right For Once
25. And Then Everything Went Wrong
26. Yelling Is The Only Way To Properly Share Feelings
27. I Think I’m Turning Into My Mother
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fandomvariousness · 8 months ago
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Prompts 5, 13 & 17 - You mean absolutely everything to me/I might have had a few shots/Have I ever lied to you?
Pairing: Jack Sparrow x daughter!reader
Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol
Request: “5, 13, and 17 with jack sparrow, with the reader being his child?”
Word count: 330
“Dad, are you pissed-drunk again?” you whined as you approached your father, who was sitting by the huge bonfire with the rest of his crew.
You were only 14, but your dad took you everywhere with you – maybe he wasn’t the best parent, seeing that you always ended up in serious and dangerous situations, but you certainly inherited his stupid charm to escape even the trickiest situations.
Expect nothing less from the daughter of Jack Sparrow.
“I might have had a few shots.” He swirled the half-empty bottle of rum in his hand.
You rolled your eyes and snatched it away from him, putting it behind your back in the sand. “Enough for today.”
He huffed, but didn’t argue. Everyone else was conversing merrily, but you were just staring at the fire.
“Now, now, dear, what are you worrying about? It’s written on your face.”
You looked at him a bit surprised, but he always does this – surprises you when you least expect it. Even if he seems a shallow and whimsical man to those around him, you know that he actually cares.
You sighed. “Dad, I don’t like this. What will we do when the redcoats finally catch up to us?”
His eyes became wide like plates. “Us??” he gasped. “Honey, did you forget what vessel we command?”
“No. The Black Pearl. What of it?”
He raised his eyebrows at you, as if it’s self-evident. You rolled your eyes.
“We’ll be fine, I mean.” He assured you with a mischievous smirk. “Have I ever lied to you?”
You sighed, your gaze becoming softer as you looked into your father’s deep chocolate eyes. “No. Never.”
He draped a caring arm over your shoulder playfully and brought you closer. “You mean absolutely everything to me. I would bring every fleet of these seas to the bottom of the ocean for Davy Jones to pick apart if it meant your safety.”
You looked at him, and you were absolutely sure he would.
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outlikethat · a month ago
scent: olympic orchids chevalier vert and salamanca
my bottle of aveda pure-formance men (the third one I've bought, which says something) is nearly running dry, and aveda's discontinued it, which has set me on a quest for "something... summerish". my collection in general leans to the heavy, the incense-y, the rich with wood or honey or tobacco, or all of those at once, and quite a bit of it is extremely and suffocatingly unsuited to the kind of hot, humid summers we get round here.
in poking about, and looking at aveda’s supposed note profile and what people thought of it, I found a lot of mentions of "bay rum" (which, actually, really? I like bay rum, and have bought a few bottles of it here and there, but I wouldn't have said, that much...?)
anyhow. "modern bay rum". maybe. so I looked around for "bay rums". I found pho*nix art%san accoutrements and a few fairly enthusiastic reviews on basenotes for their atomic age bay rum — and then found a whole lot of rather thrillingly juicy posts about their founder’s rich history of shady behaviour and emptied my cart. then I found olympic orchids. which I’d run into mention of awhile back because I was talking to someone about zoologist perfumes, and the founder of olympic orchids created their original, apparently-iconic, bat. (which sounds appalling, honestly, and more like the weird blue food we gave our fruitflies in grade 13 biology than anything else, but hey, life’s rich tapestry.)
but I digress. as usual.
I didn’t feel much pull to their bay rum, but they did have a reasonably priced sample pack and a lot of other interestingly-described aromas, so I ordered six and sat back. and here they are!
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look at that! nice, generously-sized spray samples, too, not those useless little phials with the reluctant plastic stoppers with sticks.
I sprayed on some paper tags, and started off with the ones I disliked the most on my skin: chevalier vert on the back of my right forearm, salamanca on the left.
the notes of chevalier vert (was that choice influenced by my current fascination with a film I still have not yet seen? perhaps!) are supposedly citrus, rhubarb, tomato leaf, armoise (I wonder what the fuck “armoise” is?), violet leaf, violet, orris, and peony, Sichuan pepper, and soft woods. anyone who’s seen my previous forays into the subject already knows that my relationship with “notes” in perfume is tenuous at best. I will say that on the blotter at first spray, it was something I would describe with the extremely technical language of “gross” — pretty much cat piss on leaves.
I figured it’d be an instant scrubber, and I might as well get that over with. well, it wasn’t; on me, it had an initial atmosphere of “someone is smoking weed out the back door of the hippie shop” — pot, plus that cheap nag champa aroma that absolutely soaks all the tie-dyed clothing on the racks. in, weirdly, what felt like two very distinct streams — like, the pot sat on top of the “nag champa” in a very “we are not friends” sort of way.
well, it’s been an hour-ish, and they’ve made friends now, with a result that’s still faintly hippie shop, but now more makes me think of a cross between white grape juice (you know, the very grape-y kind, welch’s) and elderflower syrup (of which, in fact, I am very fond). it’s fine. a very enthusiastic springtime-fresh girl kind of aroma. I wouldn’t wear it, I don’t think, but I don’t hate it.
now, on the left, salamanca. this one is allegedly an attempt to capture the midsummer aroma of the spanish town, with notes of hay absolute, tonka, mitti (an attar made in India by distilling the scent of clay), vetiver, immortelle absolute, African helichrysum oil, labdanum absolute, opoponax, a leather accord created especially for use in this fragrance, and yellow mimosa absolute. (I looked at that note list after spraying my paper tests and thought “why the fuck did I pick this one??” and then saw “distilled scent of clay” and said, “ohhhh.”)
now, this one went onto paper as a shout of “bitter! green!” with a bizarre but distinct little undernote of “person who ate a lot of salami two hours ago and now has old garlic coming through every pore”. no idea which of those notes is making that happen. the helichrysum maybe?
on skin, the bitter green rapidly took over, in a sharp-cornered way I almost liked, but which seemed to have no... legs? all surface, no base. now, after developing, the garlic-sweat smell (which isn’t quite as horrible as the real thing, somewhat intriguing, though piercing) is starting to come through, and the bitter green is smoothing over. really not sure about this one. don’t hate it, either, but it seems to be teetering on the edge of some decision between “does it turn completely mainstream and boring, or go full acrid-weird?”
they complement each other, in an odd way. the sharp, almost disgusting, plus the greenish. interested to see what, if anything, develops later.
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