#this post was about bourbon btw

[damazcuz]

He's sopping wet. He's pathetic. His dick game is terrible. He looks bad. He cries at the slightest provocation. Hes trembling in fear. He's unreliable. His personality is sad, just sad. I didn't say a name but he popped into your head, didn't he? ☺️

#this post was about bourbon btw #bourbon... ough.... i miss him. i see him in my dreams. #bourbon #two paws up

[archduchessofnowhere]

THE ROYAL BAPTISM AT THE PALAZZO FARNESE

Rome, 29 December 1869

I have just left the Farnese Palace, and I really believe that one can say without exaggeration: Naples is no longer in Naples; it is all in Rome today.

It is doubtful indeed that, even in the middle of his capital, Francis II would have seen himself surrounded by a crowd more numerous and better representing, not only the elite, but all the ranks of the nation of which he is the legitimate sovereign.

Certainly more magnificent pomp could have shone in Naples around the royal cradle. But first of all, could the young princess have hoped to have more august godparents before God and at her entry into the Christian life? The Holy Father, the first and greatest of the world's monarchs, the very Vicar of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and in whom the crown of suffering and misfortune heroically borne is added to the majesty of the tiara and the halo of sanctity; The Empress of Austria, who occupied the throne of the Habsburgs and whose sister was that great and pious Queen whom the people, anticipating in some way the judgment of the Church, like to proclaim "the Saint".

(...) The birth of the princess was a universal joy in the kingdom, and for two or three days hundreds of the most eminent people flocked to Rome. At the same time all the trains brought deputations chosen by each province and which the Piedmontese government allowed to pass, for want of being able to oppose a movement which was the expression of popular feeling.

From noon onwards, the vast halls of the Farnese Palace, which is one of the wonders of Rome and has few rivals in Europe, were filled with an enormous audience, composed almost exclusively of Neapolitans. Hardly the Senator of Rome and some Roman princes had been invited. The King, who, like all Bourbons, identifies his family with his country, had wished to be surrounded, with very few exceptions, only by his subjects and servants.

(...) With a delicacy worthy of his great heart, the King had asked the Bishops of the monarchy present in Rome to abstain from appearing at the ceremony: it was not necessary that a mark of religious fidelity should excite against the Episcopate of Naples the passions already so violent of Unitarianism and of the Revolution. On the other hand, fourteen Cardinals had come to pay homage to the majesty of right and wrong.

The number of young men mixed with the defenders who had been whitened in the service of the monarchy was particularly gratifying. After so long an exile, and in the midst of the temptations and seductions which are not spared, the presence and confidence of this generation, which is only just being born into public life, is a most favourable omen. Tradition is perpetuated, and hereditary devotion offers the Crown renewed phalanxes.

All the hope and all the future are there.

The Holy Father was represented by Cardinal Antonelli; the Empress Maria Anna, the godmother, was represented by Her Majesty the Empress [Elisabeth] of Austria, brilliant in beauty, grace, elegance and dignity. The procession of the princes was composed of H. M. the King of the Two Sicilies, H.R.H. the Duke and Duchess of Parma, H.I.H. and RR. the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Tuscany, H.R.H. the Count and Countess of Caserta, the Count and Countess of Girgenti, the Duke and Duchess of Alençon, the Duke of Bari and Princess Maria Immacolata, the Count and Countess of Trapani, the Prince their son and the two Princesses their daughters, the Prince of Hohenzollern.

The altar stood in the room decorated with the magnificent paintings of Salviati.

The young princess was carried on the arms of the Duchess of San Cesario. It was a touching honour for the illustrious and courageous Grand Mistress of the Palace, whose name is inseparably linked to that of the heroine of Gaeta and who deserved to receive the medal of that forever memorable siege; it was a touching honour for her to hold before the sacred font the royal child whose birth has just thrown a lightning bolt of happiness on the fortunes she has nobly shared.

S. Cardinal Patrizi performed the ceremonies and gave the young princess the names of Christina-Pia-Maria-Anna-Elisabetha-Natalina-Ephisa. The Neapolitan nurse in the magnificent costume of the women of her country, from the mountains of Avellino, was noted with interest near the font. These national clothes had a charm and a high significance in the midst of the brilliant finery of the great ladies and the insignia of the court figures.

The princess carried the magnificent christening gown, made of white lace, a gift from three hundred Neapolitan ladies, a masterpiece of taste and a guarantee of fidelity.

After the ceremony, the procession reformed. The Empress, the King, the Princes and Princesses went to the salons. The new Christian was brought to her august mother, whose emotion was deep. The Queen, with tears in her eyes, instructed the Duchess of San Cesario to thank all the faithful Neapolitans who had given, on this occasion, proof of a devotion that survives time, trials and persecutions. The Queen's emotion was so strong that duchess had to withdraw so as not to prolong its duration.

And, in fact, nothing honours a people and touches the hearts of sovereigns like these testimonies of a constancy above all perils, all perils and all sufferings.

The King was radiant with happiness. After ten years of proscription and in the midst of the joys of fatherhood, to find near him the servants who had been the companions of his misfortunes; to see a new generation rising up in the cult of right and duty; to receive the wishes of an entire people who aspire to become free again and to reconquer their nationality and their dynasty: what a consolation, and above all what hope!

Here, then, is at last a dawn of prosperity rising over the House of Bourbon and the kingdom of Naples! It is the harbinger of an even more beautiful day; it is the sign of a forthcoming triumph of good Law and Justice.

De Riancey, Henri (1870). Lettres sur Rome (Translation done by DeepL. Please keep in mind that in a machine translation a lot of nuance may/will be lost)

#this man was more optimist about the future of the bourbons than the bourbons themselves #the pictures are the salviati paintings in the palazzo farnese that de riancey mentions btw! #princess maria cristina of bourbon-two sicilies #queen marie sophie of the two sicilies #francesco ii of the two sicilies #empress elisabeth of austria #house of bourbon-two sicilies #on this day in history #long post

[sgiandubh]

Whiskey, not whisky

Kentucky bourbon it is, for McTavish, as formally announced on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvxuLwXBDgt/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D.

Website, here: https://mctavishspirits.com/. Very instructive: The Sassenach vs. The Warchief. How original.

With a hefty pricetag. Heh, and Mordor thought the Sassenach was a rip-off?

The similarities apparently also extend to the marketing pitch: young, struggling actor dreams big, goes to the States, finds relative critical success there, walks down memory lane. And shares with the world his real, real passion he's "been working on for a while".

Yes. I am selling it. I don't have to pay for it, but... you do. Ugh. I have no words, wow. Oh, the entitlement and the smugness. Completely expected.

Let's unpack:

This is by no means or stretch of imagination a whimsical, vanity project and is carefully differentiated from a white label, which would have meant that the guy was basically lending his beard and voice to the (generic) product, in the hopes it will sell well enough and for as long as possible. No: it is, to quote the leaflet, "meticulously hand selected". Oh.

This is also a long-shot, well prepared blow:

Sorry: the website thinks I am a robot, even if there's just one and only R2D2 in our universe, but you should be able to get more details by yourselves. It is an LLC (easy-peasy, no hassle), filed on July 27 2023.

For the moment, the SM reactions are rather glacial. Sam's crowd is not amused, and with good reason:

I saw it coming, now the elephant is on the couch in the middle of the parlor and I have to say I am still perplexed, in a way, even if I shouldn't.

Sam's project is not the only thing he copies, btw. Check this out:

Yes, it's a Scottish brand I know absolutely nothing about (all input welcome), but still (http://thespiritscompany.com/portfolio/sir-mactavish-scotch-whisky/?age-verified=4b7d1b53bb):

McTavish, Sir Mactavish... Potato, potahto. In Europe, and specifically the EU , it would go to court for trademark infringement in 4, 3, 2, 1, especially since it could cause confusion, deception, or mistake. For comparison, Sassenach's German lost legal battle was sparked by way less than that: a mere partial homophony with the (obscure?) Sasse distillery in Schoppingen, somewhere in Westphalia (https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/entertainment/celebrity/sam-heughan-loses-legal-battle-25578518 - this is the link I found first). But McTavish is clever enough to clearly go for the US market first and foremost.

And as a reminder, in S's situation, the European Union Intellectual Property Office (EUIPO)'s position has been particularly, and might I add, gratuitously, aggressive. I am intrigued enough and might get back to this in a separate post: don't hold your breath, though.

I still need to digest that and the question asked a couple of evenings ago remains open: what prompted S's sudden change of schedule? McTavish Anon might have been onto something, perhaps.

Tu quoque, McTavish? MIK, my earasaid. Now you understand why the sudden, subtle change on S's Twitter bio? Not only related to the SAG-AFTRA strike, I bet whatever you want on it (there's only a limited number of times I can bet my farm, heh).

[Much later edit, November 2023: It turns out this is an unashamed white label project. My bad for not immediately seeing it.]

#BoozeWars

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

I loved your post with your BuggyxLuffy headcanons, and I was curious what your headcanons are for your versions of the two as individuals 👉👈

Love the way you draw them btw!

I'm glad you asked. *Cracks knuckles"

Luffy:

100% learns swear words as he goes. He'll hear them being used and sometimes use them in the wrong context.

His eyes are only dark when he's angry. Any other time they resemble honey.

His favorite place to be touched is his face. It makes him feel safe.

He has a Brazilian accent that gets thicker the angrier or more worked up he becomes.

He will switch into Portuguese randomly. Mainly when he's trying to piss Buggy or anyone else off.

INFO DUMPS LIKE A MF.

He's super shy about his hair. His beautiful curls have been made fun of in the past.

He gets offended when someone who isn't him insults Buggy. He takes it personally.

Describes alcohol as spicy juice.

Sunsets are one of his favorite things to look at.

He will bring random ass bugs onto the Big Top and hide them to scare Buggy. The bigger the better.

Luffy loves to prank the other crew members too. He makes it a personal mission to be an absolute menace while he's on Buggy's ship. He'll hide in cupboards, switch out sugar with salt, stretch his hands to pants a crewmate, etc.

Luffy can't play cards for shit, but he can spot a players tell from a mile away. He helps Buggy cheat🤫

He wants to learn how to cook.

The very last level of the Big Top is Luffy's favorite place to be alone. The supply room has four large windows that reveal all the sea life around him.

Luffy likes to crossdress. Once he becomes accustomed to physical desire, he likes to bring it out in Buggy by wearing pretty clothes. Other times, he does it for himself to boost his confidence when he feels low.

Luffy is an exhibitionist. He's always lived for thrills and that is a major one for him.

He can be very sensitive at times, and when he doesn't know how to cope with confusing feelings, he gets aggressive.

He secretly enjoys reading.

Buggy:

Isn't afraid to kill a crew member or bystander for the smallest inconvenience.

He works out and tends do do most of his workouts on deck.

Hates docking anywhere that doesn't have a bar.

His favorite whiskey is Litchfield Cinnamon Bourbon and he keeps a stash in his office.

Despite what people may think first glance, Buggy keeps himself clean. He's extremely vain and doesn't like to smell bad.

He enjoys the taste of blood.

If anyone besides Luffy pops off at him or puts their hands on him, they won't live.

He won't say it out loud, but Cabaji and Mohji are like brothers to Buggy.

Despite being extremely egotistical, he doesn't mind being degraded in moments of intimacy.

If he feels like he's losing control of himself, he'll hide away in his office so he doesn't unintentionally hurt someone.

He's not human.

Buggy loves to gamble. He will bring Luffy along with him because Luffy can read people better than Buggy can.

Buggy is a skilled painter.

His favorite place to be touched are his arms or his chest. He secretly likes to be felt up in those areas.

He lives for shock value and will scare the shit out of anyone anywhere.

He absolutely fucking hates bugs and will plot ways to get back at Luffy for bringing them into his ship.

The crossbones on his face is a tattoo.

He's secretly impressed if someone stands up to him, but he'll still knock them on their ass.

He takes on a lot of responsibility on his ship because he wants things done right.

If anyone puts their hands on Luffy, it's death on sight.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece ask #anon ask #answered #buggy the clown #monkey d. luffy #my op headcanons #buggy #luffy #bluffy #my artwork

[solarianvoidthearoace]

Just an idea but

How about a “Now You See Me” AU for DCMK?

BTW if anyone has written this already, I’d love to read it – same goes if this post inspires you to write it

Spoiler Warning about “Now You See Me” (2013 movie), obviously

I figure Shinichi and Kaito would be twins in this

Shinichi obviously works for the FBI

And Hattori working with Shinichi for law enforcement

Hakuba could be the Interpol agent

Kaito keeps in the shadows or at least hides his relationship to Shinichi

They are the Fifth Horseman because of Toichi’s death

With Kaito and Shinichi being the instigators, that disqualifies the Gosho Boys as the Four Horsemen

Though both Kaito and Shinichi use identities that disguise their relation to each other and to Toichi

Suzuki Jirokichi could be the rich sponsor, although I’m not entirely happy with that because of the company history being relevant

Kudou Yuusaku could be the man analysing and revealing magician acts; he had no ill intend and would be more rueful about what happened with Toichi;

Yuusaku would honestly regret and mourn what happened with Toichi because they were friends and he didn’t mean to push him to that

Shinichi and Kaito acknowledge that Yuusaku wants to do penance, so they decide not to frame him for everything

Whoever rich bastard is at fault and sponsoring them has it coming though

I’m really annoyed over who would be the horsemen because I feel like Kaito, Hakuba, Masumi deserve that spotlight but I also think Hakuba fits perfectly for Interpol

Sonoko could be an unlikely magician for the Four Horsemen, I think that works

We also always could swap Hakuba for Aoko, so that she’s Miss Interpol (but I just hc Hakuba as an Interpol man, I’m convinced he’d end up there)

Haibara – or maybe Shiho – could also possibly fill out the Horsemen

So Shinichi and Hattori are FBI, Hakuba is Interpol, Kaito under a fake identity is one of the Horsemen (steering the group from within), the remaining three Horsemen could be Masumi, Sonoko, and

Kaito would be the one that “dies” in the high speed chase; obviously

I really really want to stick with Shinichi’s age range, I don’t want to bring Vermouth, Bourbon, or anyone older into this, not even for the washed-up has-been magician

I’m really drawing a blank as to who could/ would be the rich insurance mogul

I had one idea for the sponsor but I need to put that under the cut because it’s a massive spoiler for DCMK if you aren’t caught up

The sponsor could be the Karasuma Group

#now you see me spoilers #movie spoilers #now you see me #au fanfiction #au fanfic #Now You See Me AU #writing ideas #fanfic ideas #dcmk fic #dcmk fanfic #dcmk spoilers #ramblings #fanfic ramblings #bold text #my au ideas #my au stuff #writing stub #my writing #my fanfic

[vulcan-bourbon]

hi hey hello

my name is Nathaniel

(he/they)

here are my fanons on my hyperfixations

i'm socially anxious, but I don't bite

modest, but I can talk about my favorite things for hours on end.

later, I hope to make a good fix with my hyperfixes and kinnie list, but I'm not really sure if anyone needs it ...

and, yes, there are more retweets than ordinary posts.

sorry. maybe.

p.s: I am fluent in all google translate languages.

btw m'y Cosplay acc: @vulcan-bourbon-cosplay

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Sunday,  8  January,  2023....... Warmup.....Deadlifts.....”Take Five”.....

It was 50 degrees, which would otherwise be cold only according to Herb.  But with a heavy grey overcast sky and no sunshine, it seemed much colder.  We fired up all the heaters.  Many thx to Tom who toted in some propane this morning.

Sweet Dana Rebecca was the demo model and leader of the complicated 8 exercise warmup. 

Warmup:

5  Alternate Elbow to Instep

5  Alternate Hamstring Scoops

10  Kang Squats

10  HR Pushups

15  Jumping Jacks

15  Mountain Climbers

20  High Knees

20  Butt Kickers

Strength WOD:

Deadlifts:     5 / 2 / 2 / 2 / 2       Post 2 Rep Max

Shane=415     Ed/Nathan=365     Warren G=315     Zac=300     Smoothie=285    Herb/Paul=265     Tom/Lew=246     Dana=250*     Coach=245     Yates=235    Warren A=225    Joe=175     Sue/Alicia=145     Cheri=135    Kayla=125*     Tripp/Elisa/Linda/Holly=125     Faith (The girl)=32

Metabolic Conditioner

Since there are 5 Minute work sessions alternating with 5 minutes rest,  it would be convenient to do this in “WAVES”.   That way nobody would have to run.    If you don’t understand, ask Timmy (who was absent).

“Take Five”

                       5  Minute Cap

40  Calories Any ERG     (Run 500 if no ERG)

Then AMRAP in time left 

12  Deadlifts     (E=185/135/85)

12  Burpees

                     REST  5  Minutes

                        5  Minute Cap

30  Calories Any ERG     (Run 400 if no ERG)

Then AMRAP in time left

9  Deadlifts     (E=225/155/105)

9  Burpees

                      REST  5  Minutes

                       5   Minute Cap

20  Calories Any ERG     (Run 300 If No ERG)

Then AMRAP in time left

6  Deadlifts     (E=275/185/125)

6  Burpees

SCORE:     

Total combined Deadlifts  +  Burpees

Elites:

Dana=174     Shane=133

RXers:

Ed=153     Herb=120     Sue=135     Yates=121     Nathan=119     Zac=110    Paul=108      Smoothie=106     Alicia=68     Coach=65

Scaled:

Kayla=158     Holly=131     Elisa=124     Cheri=122     Joe=78      Tripp=“A Lot”     Faith (The Girl)=“A Little”     Tom/Lew/Linda/Warren A & G=Personal Journey’s

Notes:

Sincere apologies are hereby offered in print for failing to BLOG-mention that in the heat of yesterdays WOD,  athletes Timmy and Ed heard “Thunderstruck”, by AC/DC, and could not refrain from ripping off a Burpee every time they sang “THUNDER”.  If YKYK.

The Girl’s sometimes have a Girl’s-Outing-Thing after the workout, so the Boy’s were not to be outdone today.  Smoothie arranged a trip to a nearby watering-hole for burger’s and brew’s and about 7 of us came.  Smoothie/Herb/Lew/Coach/Warren A/Shane/Nathan had a great fun time.  Paul said he was coming until Susan put her size 5 1/2 foot down, so Paul had to pretend to have some emergency to attend.

Herb put a date for the next Bourbon Tasting on a white-board at the Barn.  I never plan much beyond a few hours ahead, so it didn’t register on me when he wrote down a date that is so futuristic that our trees will have green leaves once again.  Linda thinks she and a few others including  144,000 Jehovah’s Witnesses, will certainly be raptured by then.  Wait a few weeks and check the white-boards.  It will be listed as THE BORN AGAIN BOURBON TASTING.  

Big Lew (who actually is a paying member at CFEN and mooch’s workouts at the free LHCF) is undergoing shoulder surgery tomorrow afternoon.  It is notable that Big Lew is not favoring the services of any of the 3 famous Orthopedic Surgeons who attend LHCF.  It is also noteworthy that Dr Paul L. will be his attending Anesthesiologist, promising to take Big Lew “to a point as near-unto-death as humanly possible, yet still revive unharmed”.  That’s re-assuring.  Miss Linda will be offering up prayers for Big Lew, and her prayers are the best money can buy.

The quote attributed to Paul L. was actually a plagiarism from Dr David Alfery’s (LSU Dave) latest book SAVING GRACE.  If 5 or more of you guys would please buy it and leave a gushingly good review (reading is not required),  LSU Dave will take the Buck’s to a fine dinner outing.  The book is being released this Tuesday, January 10.  BTW, all new book releases are on a Tuesday.  But everybody knows that....   

If you are supposing that the 144,000 mentioned above is a fictive number, you’d better speak to an Elder from The WatchTower Society or risk being left behind.  Heavenly admission has so many obstructions I’m afraid to go to sleep at night.  Like, what’s more damning, eating beef and dairy together, or getting a blood transfusion from a total stranger ?  Thoughtful notes from a born again agnostic.

Tuesday at 4 PM.   Maybe...       

[acommonloon]

Beer Advent 10. Was waiting for this one to hit local shelves and it's a beaut. Will likely buy more tomorrow.

TLDR; I did get shouted at yesterday when I checked in at my first regular stop, looking for this Taxman release. They didn't have it, though their sister store posted a pic of it, so I asked about a couple of bourbons I noticed on the shelf behind the counter. The store clerk went off on me!

<background >

My wife's boss asked me to help him find a bottle of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof as a Xmas gift for his son. I readily agreed as I'm in multiple bottle shops nearly every week. ECBP is allocated, meaning stores get limited quantities. It's released 3 times a year though so it can be got.

I saw a bottle of ECBP on the shelf behind the counter, so I asked for the price. I could see the woman swallow her annoyance but she picked it up saying it was $99. TBH, that wasn't nearly as over-priced as I expected. Maybe $25 over retail. Before stopping here I'd purchased a bottle of Alberta Premium Cask Strength for $61.99 at a nearby store. This store priced it at $199 initially so the ECBP pricing seemed reasonable by comparison!

Then I noticed a bottle of Old Barton's "Sweet Heat" a bourbon I especially enjoy. I asked, "How much" and she immediately said $149. She didn't have to pick it up so I knew many people were asking about it. I said wow. I think it a common reaction.

She immediately gestured to herself and said, I DON'T SET THE PRICES in an elevated tone. WHAT I DON'T THINK YOU GUYS WHO COME IN HERE ASKING ABOUT THESE WHISKIES UNDERSTAND IS T.H.E.Y A.R.E A.L.L.O.C.A.T.E.D. MEANING WE DON'T GET MANY BOTTLES! She was very agitated.

Wow. her outburst surprised me I wasn't offended...yet. I said I understood allocated bourbons, I was only surprised it was more than the ECBP as typically, Heaven Hills short releases cost more than Old Barton's. This really set her off. WELL, WE MAY HAVE ONLY GOT A COUPLE OF BOTTLES OF THIS ONE, she said pointing at the Barton, AND MAYBE TEN OF THIS ONE! she pointed at the ECBP. Then she turned away and stalked off to the side.

Really? I understood she wasn't being rational and, while a part of me wanted to tell her I'd been buying allocated bourbon a lot longer than she'd been selling it, I understood her frustration wasn't really about me. I left without buying anything. I went to their sister store, and bought the beer I wanted.

BTW. I've got two bottles of the first release of ECBP and two bottles sold at only the brewery prior to it's distribution. I'm good.

At my next stop, I found a bottle of ECBP for $88,99 and called D's boss and told him. The store agreed to hold it for him and he later sent me a pic of it. He's good.

#I got problems but bourbon aint one

[wkemeup]

Hi Kas! Meg here (I’m also @loving-bucky-is-easier btw). I saw a post that you reblogged about wanting to have written a fic that someone’s comfort fic, that they stay up for, that they come back to, etc.

I just wanted to drop in and say that you have. No question, at least for me. The number of times that I’ve revisited your masterlist. Reread multi-chapter fics and one-shots alike in full (Eclipse, Back to Bourbon Street, By Any Other Name, and Guiding Light in particular), or clicked through chapters or bonus pieces looking for one specific moment that I adored and really just wanted to read again.

And girl, your playlists. They’re my go-tos. They’re incredible. I love them so much.

I appreciate you so much, and I just wanted you to know 🖤

Meg!!! You are so sweet omg 😭 That means the world, seriously. And the love for the playlists just hits me right in my soul! My face seriously hurts from smiling. This was seriously so kind. And I’m so happy that I get the chance to start reading your fics too because you a wonder my love!!

#inbox #yall making me CRY!!! #loving-books-is-easier

[hannah-deactivated20220725]

Reasons Why I Love You

Now, I know that I have already started showing appreciation to people through TPP and BotW, but you guys (well, most of you) know me... when I get to drinking, I get to loving.

Well, okay, I haven’t even opened my bottle yet, but this is some pre-drink love. :p

(btw, I recommend every blog on this list to you guys!)

Okay, so there’s a few people that have really stuck things out with me through an amount of time. And I know generally when I make these, I try to make them about new friends (and I will probably end up doing one of those today as well, but for now...), but right now I just want to make an appreciation post for people that have stuck it out with me through the highs and lows of this blog, because trust me... I am not ALWAYS so social and chipper.

So! Without further ado...

The first person I wish to recognize is @franky-ts. She is one of my first friends I made on tumblr, if not THE first (out of the people I still talk to). We call each other our twins/sisters because we’re so alike and are both Tauruses with water moons (mine’s Pisces; hers is Scorpio). She is so fun to talk to and she is always willing to lend a listening ear, no matter if it’s good bad or ugly. She’s been here for me for years! Since like 2014 or 2015! I’m so grateful to have a friend who’s always there for me and who lets me return the favor. We have picked each other up from so many lonely nights and so many tears and such... and I’m so grateful to know you. I hope to get to know you in person one day, that would be such a dream!

Next I wanna talk about @mvcreates. Mina, much like Franka, is a woman that has been here to talk me through a LOT. And she is incredibly patient and understanding. And intelligent! And wiiise. She always knows what to say and how to say it to make me feel better or to calm me down when I’m freaking out.

But it’s not just that. She’s so in love, and it’s so obvious and so inspiring. I love and look up to her relationship in ways that very few relationships have ACTUALLY inspired me. I love this girl and I’m so grateful to the interweb Lord for putting her in my path because I can’t imagine tumblr without having such amazing friends such as her.

@leave-her-a-tome is next. Our friendship started with a comment on an idea post of mine about Death Has a Face, when Ikuisuus was only a concept, a random idea that popped into my head. She said she loved the idea and that it’d inspired her to draw something, and the beautiful friendship blossomed from there. Now it’s been over a year (can you believe that!?) of friendship and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Eris inspires me in many ways. Her kindness, her friendliness, her TALENT!!! I mean, have you seen the drawings she made for that WIP? Good god is she talented!!! Eris is amazing through-and-through and I’m so glad to have her in my life. We haven’t chatted as much as I’d like, but that’s probably a lot my fault. I focus so much on making new friends, sometimes I’m not the greatest at maintaining my current friendships. I hope to end that trend soon.

Then there’s @dawnoftheagez. Dawny-poo, as I call her. ;) Dawn is one of the first people to show my new writing on this new blog the enthusiasm and support and LOVE that she did. But it was more than that. She shows ME love and support every time we talk. She’s always checking up on me. She’s always making sure I’m okay. Yes, I have other friends that do it too, but she does it every time we talk. She genuinely cares about me, as I do her. And I hope she lives the happiest life she possibly can.

Next up is @jade-island-lives. Good god. Jade. My girl. My little mermaid-loving girl. One of the people I got closest to the fastest (along with Franka and Dawn). She is so friendly, so talented, and it breaks my heart when I see her suffering or doubting herself. She has so much to offer this world, and I wish the world would reciprocate the love and effort that she puts out. I hope that you live the happiest life possible as well, Jade, because you deserve to be happy, to feel safe and to feel at home. You deserve to be HAPPY with your life and to have confidence in everything you do, because frankly... everything you do leaves me speechless and awe-inspired.

@gloriousdevourerofstories - we haven’t spoken much lately. But I still consider you a dear friend. A wonderful mutual since the days of my old blog and so fun and exciting to talk to! Her love for reading and writing knows no bounds and she will support you no matter what. She deserves to have the same love and support and enthusiasm that she gives to others. I hope that you are happy. We haven’t really spoken in a while, but I hope whatever you’re up to, you’re happy doing it.

@confundere. Girl. Another great friend that I received through the blessing of support. You are... amazing. Such a blessing on this world. You are so warm and friendly and sweet, so fun to chat with and get to know. Someone I feel like I can open up to, even when you say the wrong thing or don’t know what to say... I still know you have my back because you genuinely care and I not only appreciate that about you, but it’s only one of the many reasons why I love you. You are an absolute sweetheart and I’m so glad to have met you on this damned site. I’m so grateful to everything you’ve done to me over the last 1+ year(s) and I’m so glad that we’re friends, even if we, too, haven’t really chatted in a while. Thank you for being a friend.

Another one I’ve known for a while, though I’m not really sure if you consider me as much of a friend as I consider you, would be @fatal-blow. Your art... is inspiring. It’s SO BEAUTIFUL! You are SO full of talent that it just warms and amazes me. You are so friendly! Even when I’m having self-doubts and feeling like my enthusiasm is annoying you, you are right there to reassure me, as many times as I need, that it’s not and that you appreciate it. And I love that; people that are willing to explain and re-explain their thoughts and feelings about things, even though they’ve said it ten, fifteen times... are my favorite kind of people, as a person with pretty damn bad anxiety. So thank you. Also, you’re just awesome.

@ofvisitorsthefairest, we haven’t chatted in a while but I still consider you my friend. People get busy, life happens and I totally get it. But I do appreciate you and your friendliness and how great you are. (: Thank you for being my friend and I hope things are going well for you right now. I hope you’re happy, because you deserve the world. No, the universe. (: stay healthy, friend!

@ramblingsofabourbondrinker is another person that I found again after I came back to tumblr. Though he now goes by his first name instead of his middle name, it was easy to find him because his blog name remained the same. That same ol’ bourbon drinker. :p if we ever meet up, I am totally going to a bar with you! I feel like you’d be such a fun person to drink with and swap random stories & story ideas with. (: I get SO EXCITED every time that I see you on my dash!! I’d be lying if I said you weren’t one of my tumblr crushes. You’re too amazing and wonderful not to be. But I hope that we stay friends, and keep our social life for a long time, because you’re one cool stud xD

@pens-swords-stuff was another of the first people I met through my writeblr, back on my old blog. We used to have long chats via her ask box, long enough that I’d keep having to wait for the hour to be up because I’d always send her all 10 asks within the hour and be too shy to message her. However, Undine is FAR from being a person to be scared of. She is warm and friendly and so helpful! She’s always there for the people that look up to her and that ask her questions, but it’s more than that. She’s isn’t Google for writers. She isn’t here to be used to get ahead in your writing. She is a wonderful, funny, friendly and kind-hearted person that deserves so much out of this life, and I hope she gets it! Thank you for putting up with me all these years, friend. <3

@theshadowsofthenight is someone that, maybe I haven’t spoken to A WHOLE LOT but I still consider a friend. Shadows is so friendly and nice!! And they’re always there to play my prompt games with me (they used to have so much fun with me, playing my 4 random words games, especially when I first started playing them), and I’ve loved every interaction with them. Stay your wonderful, beautiful self, friend!

And I’m sure there are so many that I’m leaving off. But I’m afraid this post is long enough. To every one of you, new and old, thank you so much for following me. Thank you to all of my friends for being my friends and thank you to all of my followers for loving my writing/blog/games/events enough to click that follow button. I hope you’re all having a wonderful week this week so far and now... after this long-winded post... I’m going to finally open my liquor and take my first shot. xD

Thank you, everyone. Good day.

~Hannah S.

#blogger love #blogger appreciation #friendos #tumblr friends #old friends #posting love #whiskey #drinking #liquor #alcohol #long post

[pynkhues]

I just have ask, cause I need to just voice this.. (BTW I do love the show no worry) Am I the only one who thought it was such a stupid reason that the new FBI decided that the fake money was made by women was because they used fuckin' NAIL POLISH?!! I legit sat dumfounded, I mean... wtf? What, men can't think to add nail polish to their fake money?

Haha, I get why you don’t like it, anon. As a functional plot device it’s a little hammy, but I appreciate it as a thematic plot device so much that I actually like it a lot overall. 

This show doesn’t really have a lot of recurring objects like many shows do, but when they are introduced, they usually serve as a means of underlining the gendering of spaces, crime and life, which is a theme this show is about as obsessed with as I am. I talked pretty extensively about the gendering of spaces and how the show uses them in this post (man, I should update this with the delicious new spaces in s3, because they continue all of these trends in such interesting ways!), and briefly touched on the gendering of objects too (namely Rio’s golden gun, and the dubby), but it really does extend well beyond that.

So let’s break that down a little!

(Under a cut to save your dashes!)

Functional vs Thematic Plot Devices

Plot devices take a hundred different shapes and forms throughout a story, and of course, always serve to drive narrative forwards, tell the audience something about a character, or drive home a narrative theme. Plot devices aren’t always physical – in many cases they can be a trope, expectation, lie, red herring, among many other things, but for the sake of this post I want to talk about physical plot devices.

So basically, I want to talk about the way this show uses objects.

It might not seem like it on the surface, but this is a show that uses objects as plot devices a lot. Sometimes these are obvious – the money for instance, the Boland Motors car Turner drudges from the lake back in s1, the dubby (and ho, boy, I have a lot to say about that last one, but I’ll come back to that), the guns, Lucy’s phone, etc etc etc.

While these are, of course, essentially props, this is a show that typically lends a lot of weight to them, and in particular, it lends a lot of weight to feminine-coded objects that would in other shows frequently be dismissed as inconsequential.

A pearl necklace, an old lady’s porcelain figurines, a smear of lipstick on a pen cap, a child’s blanket, a new engagement ring, a pregnancy test, vials of botox, and nail polish, among many other things, become objects of narrative and thematic importance.

When it comes to these sorts of physical plot devices, I generally separate them into two categories: functional and thematic.

Functional plot devices are ultimately what they sound like. They serve an often purely functional purpose in the story. Things like the Boland Motors car that the girls took to Canada, dumped, and then was drudged up by Turner. It was used as a means of re-directing Turner’s attention on Beth, while also revealing to Dean that Beth had been the person who’d robbed him back in 1.03. More recently too, the hockey jersey that Ruby stole was a means of ultimately giving us a fun heist as the girls scrambled to get the money to pay for Beth’s life, as well as getting us to the pawn shop where Ruby would see the pen that Sara had stolen.

Functional plot devices – at their most basic – move plot forwards, bridge the gaps between characters and accelerate the action and drama of a story.

Thematic plot devices on the other hand serve a different purpose, and are often less bogged down, I find at least, in perfect logic. While they need to do what a functional plot device does, they also carry the extra weight of underpinning character arcs and often punctuating the key themes of the story. The sled in Citizen Kane is a really good example of this – as a functional plot device it’s just a specific sled and a sort of silly thing for a multimillionaire to want when he can buy as many sleds as he wants, but as a thematic one, we lean that it’s the key thing in his life connecting him back to his childhood, his innocence and his humanity, and comes to represent the central loss of the film.

Similarly, Harry’s lightning bolt scar in the Harry Potter series serves as a functional plot device to tell us and Harry when Voldemort is near, but it actually evades logic to eschew a greater purpose – which is reiterate the theme of motherly love and protection in the story.

Sharp Objects

Good Girls uses objects this way a lot and frequently shifts them between the two purposes, and it has done that since the very beginning. Using toy guns on the very first Fine & Frugal robbery for instance, was a silly plot point used ultimately to get them into the situation with Boomer at the end, but it also thematically represented the naivety of the girls in the robbery, and Annie and Beth’s powerlessness overall, but especially in the scene with Boomer (something immediately juxtaposed with Beth hitting him with the bourbon bottle). It also works effectively as a means of showing how far Beth would come across the first season as she held a real gun at the end of it, and the further slip of her moral character and what she’s capable of across season 2 and 3.

Sometimes they seem to appear as purely functional too, but evolve into thematic ones – meaning they are enriched with weight and purpose as they transition in their design.

A good example of that is Boomer’s cell phone in 2.03 which was purely functional – serving as a means of tricking the girls into believing they were disposing of Boomer’s body, not Jeff’s, before it was pivoted in the last scene to be used on a thematic and character level. By Annie listening to Marion’s voicemails through it, it served to re-link Annie to her own humanity, and underpin her arc with Marion that would ultimately lead to betrayal, redemption, grief and guilt.

The Dubby: a quick aside

The best example though, at least to me, is, of course, the dubby. The dubby does a lot of heavy lifting on virtually every story level, and I could honestly wax lyrical about it until the end of time.

On a functional plot level, it’s there to ultimately get Beth shirking Rio’s instructions and throwing her weight against him in their partnership. It forces her to confront the fact that she views herself and Rio as equals, when the reality is – in situations like that – they’re not. It also gets us to confrontations between Beth with Dean, Rio and Ruby, as well as Annie and Ben (I told you it did a lot of heavy lifting!), served as the means to which Noah and Annie met (boo), revealed Rio’s hand emotionally, and forced Beth to face on a textual level (as opposed to subtextual level) her changing relationship with her home, with her role as a mother, and ultimately her children.

On a thematic level, it explores all that and more! Not only is it deeply, deeply symbolic of a loss of innocence (a baby blanket in a drug den!) – something that’s reiterated by the girls almost being raped in that house – but Rio’s desire, for whatever reason, to give it back to her (something actually reiterated in 2.08 when he tries to handle the baby hitmen for her) – a really, really interesting beat for a character that seems to revel in her moral decline. Rio has, I think, always wanted her to be both. Again, something that is the clearest we’ve ever seen in this episode – he wants her to own up to what she is (a drug dealer) during their fight, while simultaneously trying to restore her to a seemingly frivolous comfort as a mother. It’s complicated! And I love it!

It’s also a highly feminised object that is weaponised against Beth twice. Firstly, by Jane as a means of guilting Beth (she lost it in the drug den), then criminally (by the, y’know, criminals), and then Beth actually weaponises it herself against the woman in the craft store in a female hierarchical sense which is totally fascinating to me and feels very true of Beth as reiterating the sort of alpha woman she is.

I could keep talking about this, but let’s move on, haha.

Claws

It’s not just about character arcs though.

Thematic plot devices are also often used as symbolic touchstones to re-emphasise the key themes of the show overall, and it’s in this sense that the nail polish operates – to me – really effectively. The writers aren’t saying that nail polish is only used by women, they’re saying that it’s a feminine-coded object deemed frivolous or silly by a patriarchal society (which it is, even when men wear it), and that women can use that dismissal as a weapon.

In other words, the key through line of the show.

The girls have operated with this sensibility since the show began, acting within underestimated, feminine-coded spaces and using them, basically in a way that messes with people’s expectations. It doesn’t always work in their favour, but that’s not a bad thing, and I don’t think that that’s the story this show is trying to tell. Rather I think it’s simply trying to say that these things are active, and can be powerful and used in interesting ways. They’re not passive or frivolous as history has told us.

They’ve frequently actually tried to use female-coded objects in crime before too – namely Marion’s figurines, the secret shopping scheme, the botox – all of which failed in unique ways (all of which too were briefly entertained but ultimately rejected by Rio, and it’s interesting that a key transition in Beth and Rio’s relationship occurred around Boland Motors – a masculinised space that Beth feminised on her takeover of it – I spoke about that quite a bit in the gendered spaces post I linked to above!)

The nail polish though has been the first true, pure success of a weaponised, feminine-coded object in the crime storylines, and it’s not an accident that that has coincided with the launch of the girls’ operation and their pure success without Rio. Being able to use it to make the money has been key to representing their feminisation of the crime world and the crime space on a thematic level, and I’d argue represents a ‘full circle’ moment with the success of their returns-for-cash scheme working with Rio originally (again, a feminine-coded operation).

Like I said in my gendered spaces post – Beth, Ruby and Annie are at their strongest and smartest when they’re utilising the familiar, feminine-coded world and weaponizing it, as opposed to copying Rio’s highly masculine-coded world (one of the clearest examples of this ever on the show was this season actually when Beth realised she couldn’t intimidate Gil like Rio, but could blackball him in PTA mom mode). The nail polish is actually a key symbol of that too, and the fact that it’s identified by a female FBI agent is about reiterating the same themes. Phoebe has a chance to take down the girls and close in on them because she doesn’t underestimate that world like Turner did and Rio’s still prone to doing.

The nail polish in that sense formed not only a functional plot device (with making the money in the first place), a thematic one (the underestimation of feminine-coded objects by men), but a bridging device that makes Phoebe a real enemy to the girls. It also serves as a great narrative underscore as Phoebe removes that nail polish from circulation, not only indicating that Phoebe operates in that space as well as Beth, Ruby and Annie, because she’s a part of that world in a way Turner wasn’t, but forming a terrific narrative parallel where as Beth loses further control of her operation, she also loses control of a key ingredient which gained her that operation in the first place.

So yes! Less function, more theme, but I don’t know.

I’m pretty into it, haha.

#gg 3.08 #gg 3.09 #set dressing #beth boland #ruby hill #annie marks #rio #gg 2.07 #gg 1.01 #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

[elisabeth515]

“The General’s Mistress” reaction/review (part 3)

Content warning: explicit scenes

(Part 1)

(Part 2)

(Part 4)

It’s 6am and I have been staying up for hours now. I’m pretty much afraid that I could not finish this before Christmas but there you are, part 3 of our reaction/review of “The General’s Mistress”.

In this part, we are going to speak of the chapters 26-28. Basically, we see Ida and Michel finally be sitting together and have dinner and talk (and subsequently, their first night), and I have a lot of things to talk about.

Before I start, to be honest, I struggled to read chapter 27. Not because of the anachronistic terms on garments featured in earlier chapters (btw me and @suburbanbeatnik talked about this book some days ago and we have spotted more inaccuracies in terms of clothing), or maybe some other gross stuff, it was just... I don’t know, I was just about to throw up even though in terms of writing the explicit scene is actually very well-written. Thus, you can see my initial reaction is “I don’t know why but this is horrifying KEEP THIS AWAY FROM MICHEL”.

Rare picture of me after reading

Firstly, the table talk has a plenty of very noticeable inaccuracies. For instance, Michel Ney doesn’t have an older sister named Sophie, even though he indeed had a sister named Marguerite and two brothers (one older, one younger). Nevertheless, it seemed like the author really just using her own imagination to attempt to create a convincible portrayal of Ney—and in my opinion, she failed, at least to me who know quite a lot on him. The author is just literally throwing random names to Ney’s siblings when you can bloody find this at the very first chapter of the Michel Ney biography by A. H. Atteridge:

“There were four of them, three sons and a daughter. Jean, the eldest was bom in 1767. [..] He was killed on 19 June, 1799, in Macdonald's disastrous battle against the Austrians on the Trebbia.

The second son was Michel, the future Marshal of the Empire. The third, Jacques, born on 7 March, 1771, died in child- hood. The daughter. Marguerite Ney, was bom on 7 October, 1772. She was twice married. Her second husband, Jean Claude Monnier, held lucrative posts in the Civil Service of the Empire, and was a wealthy man when he was forced to retire by the Bourbon Government in 181 5. Madame Monnier died in 1819.”

Yeah probably the reason why she changed the name of Michel’s younger brother into “Charles” might have something to do with the plot (because, remember, Charles was the name of our dear MC’s alter ego), BUT this does not excuse from the possibility of a lack of research on the historical character, which is a big turn off to me. Honestly, it just feels like snapping me back into reality and reminded me that this Michel is a very fictional one, though both are very awkward (and cute).

Besides, another thing that I can never forgive the author is that she also get Michel’s age when he’s enlisted wrong. I am not going to comment some of his quotes in the dinner talk scene which I found a little bit weird to me, but how DARE you get his enlist age WRONG??? Yeah yeah yeah maybe just for the drama but WHY ARE YOU ALSO GETTING NEY’S ENLISTING AGE WRONG???? (Sorry, I can be so emotional sometimes.) Like, yes he longed for the soldiers’ life but he worked as a notary after secondary school, until when he’s 19, escaping from his boring job to join the army (despite his father opposed the idea).

So, let’s move on the chapter that I absolutely don’t really want to speak of—the very explicit scene of their first night. As I have already mentioned, in terms of writing it is really well. It escalated quickly from the peaceful dinner scene (albeit some sexual tension going on), as we see Michel being portrayed as the pious and angelic man beside the fallen woman (MC) that has been yearning for this white light. And alas, at last he suddenly succumbed to the woman’s seduction and revealed his well-endowed body in the night—fulfilling every single thirsty fangirl’s fantasy🌚👌🏻.

For the aftermath, I am fine with the fluff, pretty cute I may say. I’m not going to spoil here because my review might slightly incline to too much based on my own gut feelings... so yeah, stay tuned to the next part where we would hopefully seeing some bottom!Ney content🌚👌🏻 ((no

#Michel ghostwritten some parts of this if you all don’t mind #yes we read and review this together #Michel Ney is a bottom🌚👌🏻 *me be slapped* #historical fanfiction #i am so sorry marshal ney please don’t fuck my life up #I actually enjoyed reviewing it so maybe I should also do the sequels? #another day I shared the reaction sheet to ​@Histoireettralala and she’s like: that’s priceless pfffft #historical fiction #book review #Napoleonic ​historical fiction #Napoleonic #napoleonic shitposting

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

wild winter | right now; baron corbin [m]

PROMPTS USED:

LOCATION:

–uhh… in an elevator. against a wall.

TYPES OF SEX:

– sloppy dirty sex

– heavy makeout, grinding

– fingering / hand job

– first I Love You ( Baron said it first dawww.)

DIALOGUE & GIF INSPO

– “ You’re already turned on…?”

– gif inspiration for this is [ here ]

WARNINGS: uhh.. unprotected sloppy standing elevator sex. Fingering and handjobs, Baron being a bit of a sweet goofy cheeseball, shh!, bite marks, heavy making out…

PAIRING: Baron & Gemma

[ for more of them read this fake fic title : ditched under the mistletoe… this is somewhere towards the middle of their whole ‘story’ btw. I just haven’t written anything else for them… yet.]

The club was not his scene at all. If it weren’t for the lure that was Gemma dancing, he’d have told her hell to the no, he’d have begged out of this, literally anything. But all she had to do lately was turn on that begging pout and Baron Corbin turned from stone to putty in her hands.

Oh, he’d die a thousand slow and miserable deaths before ever coming close to admitting it to anyone, especially her, but the fact remained.

“Oh come on. Stop pouting and leaning on the wall you giant wallflower.” Gemma’s giggled command drew him from his current state of brooding while nursing a bourbon. He eyed the floor and then her again, leaning in, his hand at her hip to guide her completely against him. “They’re playin the wrong music for me to even consider gettin out there, princess.”

“This song fucks, okay?” Gemma informed him, suck popping a cherry flavored bubble as she dared to tap her foot at him impatiently.

Baron chuckled, shaking his head no and he held firm.. For all of two seconds. When Gemma started to walk her fingers up his chest, he groaned and bit his lip, trying not to react. When she started to rub against him, those hips swaying ever so slightly, staring up at him with the most innocent of smirks the entire time, his hands ventured down, gripping a double handful of her ass and squeezing, bucking himself into her right as she was about to rub against him. Gemma rose to tiptoe, her arm around his neck, fingers tangled lightly in the ends of his hair. “I thought this song was wrong for you to dance to, hm?”

“Well you’re the one who said, and I quote, this song fucks.. And fucking is a good thing, yeah?” Baron’s voice was the perfect velvet rasp against her throat as his mouth ventured boldly down the front of it. It didn’t matter that what he called dancing was more or less Gemma practically draped over his giant frame and standing on his feet to do so or that Baron Corbin had about as much rhythm as Carlton from Fresh Prince and maybe slightly more than Urkel from Family Matters. She lowered her hand, resting it over his heart and he squeezed her ass harder, drawing a squeak from her. “What’s on that chaotic little mind of yours, darlin?” Baron’s stubble grazed against her collarbone and she shivered while biting her lip. Every fucking time… He did this every fucking time he wanted to get out of something. She stared up at him with the vaguest hint of a smirk as she slowly shook her head no.

“Oh, we’re not leaving yet. I know exactly what you’re trying to do here.” Gemma purred, her lips lingering right over his pulse as she breathed in the scent of his cologne and smiled against his skin.

She wanted just one fucking night where he didn’t use sex as a diversion to get out of something he didn’t want to do. Just one.

“Aw, c’mon!” Baron grumbled, pouting because his attempt to get her to agree to leave hadn’t worked this time. Now he was going to have to figure out something else because clearly, she was catching onto him.

“Baron, you’re being a whole ass manchild. Just dance with me.. One more time… Please?”

Baron eyed her, a grumpy expression on his face that quickly turned to a smirk as he formed a plan of his own. Oh, he’d make her wish she’d taken him up on his offer to leave now. She wanted to dance?

Fine, they’d dance.

“Okay darlin.”

Gemma eyed him with a brow raised. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead and shook her head. “Okay, you don’t have a fever… You’re up to something.”

“Hey! I’m not always ‘up to something’ when I agree with you, princess. Sometimes I do it cos…” and he was dangerously close to saying those three words but at the same time, he was determined not to be that guy, the one who fell too hard and too easy and wore his heart on his sleeve. It wasn’t who he felt he was.

But he wanted to say it so bad.

“Because you’re up to something.” Gemma pouted, teasingly poking out her tongue at him as she rested her cheek against his chest and let out a contented sigh. “This feels nice.” her voice was giggly and muffled against the fabric of his tee shirt and Baron cleared his throat. The three words were still there, threatening to burst right out.

If he opened his mouth, he just knew they were coming out.

The thought had him tensing just a little and Gemma felt it the instant he did, raising her head to look up at him. “Everything okay?” with that soft and concerned look in her eyes. The same one that almost had him blurting out his true feelings on live television earlier when she’d pushed her way down to the ring just to make sure he was okay, post match against Roman Reigns. She shook her head. “You have got to stop thinking about shit that happens on the clock, do you hear me? Hey.. Focus, you giant goof.” Gemma was teasing gently, cupping his face in her hands, pulling his mouth against her own, rubbing herself against him. Her general thought process was that maybe if she made him focus his attention on her, then he wouldn’t think about it and get angry or upset all over.

He honestly disliked the whole gimmick but he’d never let that on. He missed the whole Lone Wolf idea he’d started with.

“If this is about that match earlier..” Gemma started, sighing as she shook her head.

“It actually has nothing to do with that.” Baron muttered quietly as his tongue parted her lips and he pulled her up his body so that he wasn’t bending too far and she wasn’t having to stretch herself out so much to kiss. Her legs circled his waist, squeezing and his hands gripped her ass doing the same as Baron deepened the kiss to a point where Gemma was starting to get dizzy from lack of oxygen.

The song continued to play in the background. Gemma whimpered into the kiss when she rubbed herself against him just a little harder and felt how hard he was through his jeans. Her fingertips raked his scalp and she went from mildly turned on to dripping wet as his mouth broke from her own to bite clumsily down her throat.

But she couldn’t just leave it alone.. That look in his eyes and the way he kissed her hard enough and dare say desperately enough to swell her lips and start them bruising when the kiss broke. “Oh? Well something is wrong..” she frowned as she tried to puzzle it out.

“Nothing is wrong.” Baron promised, grumbling lightly because she couldn’t just let it go. Very like her, actually. “Do you wanna dance or not, princess?” he didn’t mean for it to come out so impatient, but it did and he winced. “Sorry, just.. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it is earlier.”

… just say the words, damn…

The thought wouldn’t just be pushed out like usual and it wound up with Baron pulling her into another dizzying and bruising kiss. A step backwards had them sitting on one of the velvet covered couches that lined the wall closest to them and now Gemma was in his lap. She broke the kiss, backing away to look at him a few seconds as if she were contemplating something, but he was pulling her mouth back against his hungrily, his hand venturing up the ultra short hem of the little second skin fitting black tube dress that currently encased her body and showcased her curves and made him want nothing more than to pull her into a private and darkened room and rip it right off her body. One of her stilettos hit the floor with a quiet thud, followed by the other, the fact going unnoticed by both parties. Baron’s hand was now cupping her cunt, squeezing and he sucked in a sharp breath when he realized that she was practically dripping already. It only pushed him forward, his mouth dancing down the side of her neck, his teeth latching on to sensitive skin there and making her shiver all over as he left an even bigger mark on her.

By the end of the night, even if he didn’t say the words.. She was going to be covered in bite marks and handprints and little bruises here and there.. And preferably so damn sore that she didn’t dare ask him if he wanted to go out to another nightclub the next night because she wasn’t going to want to move.

And if he managed that, he’d happily carry her everywhere. Since he secretly enjoyed doing it and he often made up any excuse just to grab her up and put her over his shoulders or slide her up his body and let her wrap herself around him and cling… or scoop her up and carry her like he was carrying her over the threshold.

That last thought caught him by enough surprise that he actually stopped what he was doing and blinked a time or two.

“Baron?” Gemma questioned, her voice soft and panted against his mouth as she tried to take his face in her hands and guide his mouth back to her own. Baron’s hand stopped squeezing and rubbing her cunt and she pouted because at least with him rubbing and squeezing like he had been, she’d been getting some form of friction. When she went to rock herself right over the bulge strained and about to burst through the denim of his jeans, he chuckled and slyly shook her head no, muttering against her ear, “I thought you wanted to dance.”

“I do, but..”

“But?”

Gemma pouted and leaned in, rocking herself back and forth over his lap as his hand ventured up higher, to the waistband of her panties. She felt the second he ripped them away, tugging the torn fabric off her and shoving them into his pocket with a softer version of his usual smug smirk. “But I also want you. There’s just somethin about the way you’re touchin me and stuff right now, I…”

“I know, darlin.” Baron’s mouth buried just above the top of her dress, below her collarbone and as she rocked against him, he bucked himself up into her. “This is the only kind of dancin’ you’re really good at anyway.” Gemma sighed and giggled softly, making Baron give that cocky smirk as he stood.

“We’re leavin.”

“My shoes!”

Baron grumbled but let her hop down long enough to put her shoes back onto her feet and then he was pulling her back up his body all over again, and heading towards the nearest exit out of the club and into the lobby of the building.

His intentions had honestly been to at least attempt getting her upstairs to their room, but between what he was fighting to keep himself from saying and her just… Being the ultimate temptation, he couldn’t just wait a few lousy floors. So, the second they were inside an elevator, he was pushing the brake. Gemma eyed him, giggling.

“Baron?”

“Want you so fuckin much, princess. You don’t know what you do to me, do ya?” he grabbed hold of her hand and guided it down the front of his jeans, bucking against her palm. Gemma swallowed hard, nodding. “I… kind of felt that earlier.”

She got the feeling that Baron was trying to say something else entirely. Something that might just make him uncomfortable. She stared up at him a few seconds, head tilted slightly, gripping the waistband of his jeans as she tugged at the hem of his black tee shirt, tugging that upwards and over his head. Baron plucked it from her hand and placed it over the security camera aimed right at them.

“And I know what I do to you.” Baron muttered huskily as her back met the wall because he was pressing into her so heavily. His hand slipped back up the hem of her little black dress, squeezing her cunt, staring down at her as he breathed heavily. By now she’d gotten her hand into his pants and her hand was circling his cock, pumping long and slow and careful. His fingertip brushed between dripping folds as he nipped at her ear when leaning down “You’re already turned on…? I barely did anything.”

“You’re surprised?” Gemma panted as she rocked her hips against his fingers as they worked her open and buried past the knuckle. “ You’re just good like that.” she gasped, her strokes getting erratic as he added a finger and started to rub at her clit, working his fingers over the circle of nerves.

“I am, huh?”

Gemma bit her lip, staring up at him a second or two. “You don’t need me to tell you that.” she started, but stopped mid sentence, just… watching the look in his eyes. It wasn’t just sheer blind lust tonight like usual… there was something else there, something deeper lurking beneath the surface. Before Gemma could do what she’d been heavily considering, hitting her knees in front of him and tugging down his pants to blow him like she was dying to, Baron had her hand out of his pants and he was shaking his head, biting his lip. He withdrew his own hand from beneath her dress and raised the fingers just buried deep in her pussy to his lips, groaning as they slipped between, his free hand on her chin, fixing it so that she had to watch his reaction to tasting her, a lewd growl slipping out as he lowered his jeans and boxers and tugged her dress up to around her waist, raising her thigh so that it was wrapped around his waist, his hand gripping it there as he drove into her deep and slow, muttering breathlessly against her mouth, “I’m gonna make it up to ya later, princess. Just.. Fuck.. I need you now. So much, baby girl.” Baron’s breathy growl as his mouth crashed against her own had Gemma whimpering as he started to fuck into her a little faster, his hips snapping against her, her hips meeting his eagerly. “Fuck, oh fuck, Baron.. I love it when you get like this.” her head fell back against the wall of the elevator and she gripped his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin as he sank his mouth down onto the opposite side of her neck to the one he’d already left littered with marks.

Before he could stop himself from saying it, it was out. “Fucking love you, Gemma. So much, baby. Fuck. It’s all I can..” he started to thrust deeper and slower to keep himself from coming, groaning at the way it felt to feel the excess juices from her thighs covering his cock, dripping out of her lazily. “Think about lately.”

Gemma gripped him tighter, mouth crashing against his mouth as she muttered back, “I love you too.” a whimper dying on her lips as soon as her saying it back seemed to unleash something in Baron and he was really driving into her hard and deep, his hips smacking against her own at an almost bruising pace as he let his mouth linger over any part of her he could get it on. She guided his mouth back down to hers and her breath caught in her throat as she felt him filling and stretching her even more, bringing her dangerously close to an almost blinding orgasm. Baron felt her tighten around his cock and he growled the command against her lips, “C’mon, princess. Let go… Wanna feel…” as his tongue pushed between them, parting them and dominating her tongue in a slippery and sloppy and biting kiss. Her hands were all over him now and Baron muttered against her mouth, “Ever kissed somebody when you were gettin off? Because I haven’t.. And I wanna try.” his grip on her thigh slipping slightly only to have him correct that and grip it tighter, raising her leg a little bit higher and causing him to bottom out just as her orgasm shattered through and she deepened the kiss, her teeth clenching his bottom lip between as she muttered a quiet, “Don’t stop, fuck.. I wanna be filled up.”

“Oh you do, hmm?” Baron responded, letting her cling to her as he fucked her straight through her orgasm and right into his own, his cock throbbing and filling her up with his release, their juices mixing and dripping as they clung to each other, kissing and biting and trying to come down from it all.

Gemma tugged down her dress and Baron pulled up his jeans, tucking himself back into his pants, buttoning and zipping them and Gemma leaned against him heavily, trying to get herself together, staring up at him intently. He seemed more at ease.

“ I really meant it. Like… i didn’t mean it to come out like that, just…” Baron’s gaze dropped to his biker boots and Gemma took his face in her hands, making him look at her instead. “I know you meant it. I did too, by the way… I hope that means you’re gonna… Carry me?” she asked carefully, watching his lips turn upwards into a smile as he nodded and bent, scooping her up into his arms.

She winced as his arm brushed against her back and he eyed her in concern. “You okay, princess?”

“That rail dug into my back.. It’s whatever, I was not about to ruin the mood, it felt entirely too good to stop.”

“Damn right it did, princess. I’ll look at it when we’re in our room, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” Gemma mumbled as she pressed a gentle kiss against his lips and muttered in a quieter tone, “You’re an actual softie. I like it.”

“Only for you. Everybody else can get fucked, honestly.”  Baron shrugged it off as if it were nothing but honestly, just hearing her say that had him grinning like an idiot on the inside and definitely put him more at ease given what he’d said in the heat of the moment and meant with everything in him….

#baron corbin fanfiction #baron corbin fanfic #baron corbin fic #baron corbin oneshot #baron corbin imagine #// no one under 18+ #// fourseasonsofsm*tselfchallenge #// sm*t here #// in an elevator #// sloppy s*x ftw

[justtessasworld]

connected | kai parker

Guess who's back?? Btw I'm sorry for the format, Tumblr doesn't allow me to make paragraphs anymore?? Idk why but everytime I post it with paragraphs they're suddenly gone 🤷‍♀️

~

In which y/n sees Kai in her dreams.

~

“That was a good one!”, y/n laughed.

The young woman was sitting at the table in the kitchen of some house somewhere in Virginia. At least Kai said so.

Said man was sitting in front of her, they were playing some game but he had interrupted it by his corny jokes.

“So what are you up to today?”, y/n asked after her laughter had quieted down.

“Hm, we'll see”, Kai stated, pouring himself a glass of water. “Probably going to watch some TV, steal something from the store down the street. The usual for living alone in a world.”

Y/n sighed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “I wish I could be there for you. Be here.” She looked around the room, around this small piece of Kai's prison world she was in.

“Oh, don't you worry! I'm just going to wait till you go to sleep again.”

Y/n chuckled dryly, scratching her fingernail over the table.

“Yes, I know, but I just-”, she stopped abruptly.

Y/n felt the strange pull in her stomach, that weird feeling she still hasn't fully become comfortable with after all these years.

“Is it already time?”, Kai asked, standing up and swiftly walking towards the woman.

Y/n nodded, gripping his arms as her legs grew weak. “I frigging hate this feeling.”

Kai chuckled, holding her waist with one hand.

“See you tomorrow”, he said, gently caressing her cheek with his free hand.

Y/n felt her face grow hot, he was so close to her and he smelled so good and-

“See you tomorrow”, she whispered and then she was gone. Disappearing into thin air.

Y/n groaned annoyed as she stopped the ringing of her alarm. 7 am.

Kicking away her blanket, the young woman pulled the ring on her necklace to the front.

It always fell to the back when she was sleeping.

Turning the ring around in her hand, y/n thought of Kai.

The ring had been his once. All those years ago before he was put into this prison world.

Y/n's grandma had found it in the woods in Portland, where Kai had lost it in the night of his imprisonment.

The ring was her gift from her grandmother at her 14th birthday. And also the reason for her dreams. Or whatever they were. They started a few days after her birthday and just never stopped. At first y/n was scared out of her mind of this strange young man in her dreams, living completely alone in the world and being so incredibly rude too. But after some troubles they really got to know each other and y/n Kai became friends, somehow.

She thought she was crazy when she was younger and she still did, sometimes. But she just couldn't believe that her mind could make up such a realistic person. Y/n never told anyone about her dreams though. Not her family nor her friends, she knew better than to try it, she had watched supernatural movies after all.

Letting the necklace go she stood up, making herself ready for work.

“Elena! How are you?”, y/n exclaimed as she saw the Gilbert sitting in the Grill.

Y/n worked there in the summer to pay off her student loans, just as a few other of her friends.

“I'm fine”, Elena snapped. Wowie, y/n thought, someone was in a bad mood right now.

Elena's gaze softened and she turned to the other young woman. “I'm sorry, y/n. It's just-”

“It's just that Damon and Bonnie are still gone?”, y/n interrupted, she might not be one of Elena's best friends but they got along more than good and so y/n knew about the absence of Elena's boyfriend and her best friend. Even though y/n didn't exactly knew everything.

“Well, Damon's back”, Elena stated. “I'm actually meeting with him here, but Bonnie's still… away.”

The way Elena's said ‘away’ made y/n frown. Bonnie wasn't missing, was she? No, if she really was missing, y/n would know. All of Mystic Falls would know.

“Well I hope she comes home soon”, y/n said, smiling brightly and said goodbye.

On her way to the bar she saw Damon and waved, a small grin forming on his normally frowning face.

After a long day at the Grill and with her friends and studies, y/n was more than happy to change out of her clothes and fall on her bed. Looking at her clock, she saw that it was already 10 pm.

Snuggling into her blankets she clutched her fingers around Kai's ring and fell asleep.

There was the feeling of falling and then suddenly she stood in the same house as last night, the sunlight bathing the dark room in bronze colors.

Turning around, y/n couldn't spot Kai. Hm, normally she would just appear in the same room as him, where was he?

“Kai?”, she shouted, walking into the hall. No answer.

“Malachai? Where are you?”, still no answer.

Without a warning the front door opened, nearly knocking y/n off her feet.

“Hey!”, she cried out taken aback, stepping back a few steps.

“Y/n? What are you already doing here?”, Kai snapped, glancing behind him. What the hell?

“Wow, Kai. I'm happy to see you too”, y/n snarled, putting her hand on her hip and looking at him suspiciously.

“You can't be here right now”, Kai growled, slamming his hand against his head.

Y/n flinched, grabbing his hand and hiding them tightly.

Kai always had the habit of punching his head and everything when something was with her, as if that would make y/n disappear. Because even though they knew each other for years now, Kai still thought that she was just a hallucination, a way of making him feel better in this lonely hell.

“Hey, Kai. Kai!”, she shouted, catching his attention. “You know I hate it when you do that”, she said quietly, her eyes sad. It hurt her so much, when she saw him in pain.

“Kai? Who are you talking too?”, a feminine voice said, standing behind the door. Before y/n could react the woman walked into the hall, looking at Kai and then at her.

Y/n knew the woman. It was-

“Bonnie?”

“Y/n?!“

Gasping y/n sat up in her bed. Fuck, her head hurt. In all these years of having these dreams she never had left them this abruptly, being more like pushed out of them than slowly pulled out.

What the hell happened?

She saw Bonnie and then she suddenly woke up. Oh God, Bonnie! Her shirt had been full of blood and she'd looked like hell. And most importantly she had been in Kai's prison world. Kai had told her that he was there because of murdering his family (with which y/n was still not comfortable with), so what had Bonnie done to get imprisoned there?

Or was she accidentally there?

Glancing at her clock, y/n saw that it was only midnight yet. Not too late to hit up Elena.

Standing in front of the massive Salvatore mansion, y/n snuggled more into her warm jacket and ringed the bell.

She had picked up Elena here a few weeks ago, the two of them wanting to go shopping with Caroline.

Now she was waiting for someone to open up, Elena or one of the Salvatores, she didn't care.

The door opened and y/n saw Damon, looking annoyed at her with an open shirt. Apparently y/n interrupted Elena's and Damon's sexy time.

Y/n smiled shyly. “I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have to talk to Elena.”

The vampire looked at her sceptically.

“It's about Bonnie.”

“So you saw her in your dreams?”, Elena asked slowly.

Y/n nodded slightly, maybe it wasn't the best idea, now they probably did think she was mental.

“And in your dreams you are in a prison world with Kai?”

Y/n nodded again.

“How do you know that psycho-boy?”, Damon looked at her closely.

“Psycho-boy? Do you know him?”, y/n asked surprised, turning to him.

“I was in that prison world with him for months. I only escaped alone because your murder-boyfriend shot Bonnie in the stomach!”, the man spat, his face furious.

Y/n gaped at him. “No, he- he wouldn't do that”, the woman whispered, then cringing.

“Well, he did kill his family, so… “, Elena mumbled and y/n frowned. She was right, though.

“How do we get her out of there?”, Damon asked annoyed.

“Well-”, y/n interrupted Elena. “What do you mean ‘her’? We have to get both of them out of there!”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no”, Damon laughed pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

“We won't help that psycho-murderer get out of there!”

“But-”

“No!”

Y/n frowned deeply.

“Well, I don't know how to get anyone out of there”, y/n snapped, “so I'll get going.”

She stood up, taking her coat from the couch.

“You may not know a way but you can help us with the witchy-woo”, Damon said.

Y/n turned around to the two of them. “Witchy-woo?”, she asked.

“Well yeah, or whatever you witches call your magic.”

“Damon, I don't think-”

“You- you think I'm a witch?”, y/n spluttered.

Damon nodded confused. Elena rubbed her temples.

“I'm not a witch!”, y/n laughed hysterically, “We're not in some kind of fairy tale!”

“Y/n, you have to have realized that these dreams aren't normal”, Elena said in a soft voice. “They're pretty common for witches.”

“I mean, of course I know that it's not normal, but I'm not--I'm not a witch.”

Y/n shook her head vehemently. “If I'm a witch, what are you? Vampires?”

Elena and Damon went silent, looking at each other.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me”, y/n groaned, having to sit down again. “I'm in a damn Twilight fanfiction.”

It had been a week now since y/n found out about the supernatural world. And her probably being a witch. They couldn't confirm it yet, y/n couldn't actually use her ‘magic’ specifically but Elena and Damon and all the other vampires, y/n had met this week (well she did already know them, she just never knew that they weren't human) were sure that was a witch.

God, it felt so weird, saying that. Her, a witch.

There's also been another weird thing. In this whole week y/n had never dreamed of Kai. Not once. Sleeping, actually sleeping and not spending time with Kai, was strange for her.

It was like he didn't want her there, with him. As if he pushed her away.

Y/n awoke, in the middle of the night again, she had slept, like a normal human being but it felt wrong.

She grabbed the ring, thumbing it around.

“Kai, please, let me in”, she whispered, near tears. She couldn't sleep and not being able to dream of him, to be with him with her visions, she didn't just feel like she couldn't relax she felt like she had lost her best friend.

Crying out, y/n pulled off her necklace, throwing it into her room.

She couldn't sleep that night.

A few weeks later, y/n was walking home from the Salvatores, having spend the whole day trying to find a way to use her powers, as she saw a man standing on her front pouch.

“Can I help you?”, she shouted, pulling her keys out of her jacket.

The man turned around and y/n let go of her keys, clanking down to the ground.

That tall frame, dark hair, these dark intense eyes. Malachai Parker.

Y/n gasped, looking at him shocked.

Kai smiled. “Hello, love.”

The young woman cried out, letting her bag fall to the ground and running towards him.

He laughed deeply as she threw her arms around of him, picking her up. Her legs wrapping around his waist.

Kai sighed, burying his face into her hair.

“Why! Why would you keep me out? I was so worried, I thought- I-”, y/n sobbed, clutching his back.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry”, Kai mumbled, squeezing her thigh.

She looked at him, into these deep brown eyes. God, they were shining and so full of emotion. Her smooth hands stroked his jaw, up to his hair, pushing some strands back. He was so handsome and he was here.

“I can't believe you're here”, she whispered, fingernails lightly scratching his neck.

He nodded, his nose nearly touching hers.

Suddenly she was more than aware of their closeness, her legs around his middle, their faces only inches apart, his grip on her thigh.

Y/n breathed shallowly, her gaze flicking to his lips, just as his did the same.

Both of them flinched as the sound of a horn echoed from the street.

Y/n coughed slightly, awkwardly getting off of Kai.

The man grumbled something quietly.

“Let's- let's just go in”, y/n mumbled, picking up her stuff and walking to her apartment, making sure not to meet his eyes.

He was hot on her heels, following her into the small apartment y/n was able to afford.

They had spoken about that exact home once in one of her visions, Kai had never listened that closely. He was happy he did, otherwise he wouldn't have found her.

“Home sweet home”, y/n chuckled, shrugging out of her jacket.

She walked into the kitchen, drinking some water.

Kai appeared in the door frame, leaning against it.

“Love”, he started.

“How are you here? Why are you here? Why didn't I have these dreams the last weeks? You once said you're a witch? Are you a witch? Am I a witch? Elena and Damon said so but-”, y/n rambled.

Kai laughed lowly. “Breathe, y/n, breathe.”

Y/n nodded, sitting down.

“I'm going to explain everything later”, the young man said, walking to where y/n was sitting.

“But firstly I have to get some magic.” Right, y/n thought, she remembered that he was a siphoner and now being in the real world again, he could get magic again.

“Right, of course. I don't know how, though.”

Kai kneeled down in front of her, gently grabbing her wrists.

“Let me try something, that way we also find out if you really are a witch.”

Kai watched her closely. Y/n nodded, she trusted him with her life.

His grip on her wrists tightened and a hot feeling shot through them. It traveled up her arms and spread out until her whole body was hot and prickled.

“Kai”, she moaned, her body growing weak.

He stopped abruptly, letting go of her and nearly falling on the floor, his eyes dark with ecstasy.

“Y/n”, he groaned. “Well now we're sure you're a witch.”

“Why?”, she asked, slumped again the chair.

“Because I just took a bit of your magic and you have more magic than any other witch I've ever known.”

“If you want to stay you can take the bed”, y/n said, putting their dinner in the fridge.

They had spent the entire afternoon with talking, catching up with what happened in the last weeks.

Kai nodded thankfully.

“Elena called, they found Bonnie but they don't know where you are.”

Y/n felt bad for lying to Elena but she didn't want the vampires to do anything to Kai.

"Thank you", the siphoner smiled softly. "And I can take the couch if you don't mind."

"OK", the young woman whispered, turning to her bedroom door. "Goodnight, Malachai."

"Goodnight, love."

Y/n was a light sleeper, so when she started to hear mumbling from the living room she was nearly instantly awake.

"Please- I- father, please", a voice groaned loudly. Kai.

Y/n slowly stood up. He had to have a nightmare. He told her about those years ago. Moments of his childhood when his family would punish him for, well, living.

"Kai?", she called out, standing at the door. The young man was laying on her couch, his tall frame nearly to much for the small couch. He was withering under the thin blanket, hands gripping the sheets, his face sweaty and hair clinging to his forehead.

"Let me go- I'm sorry- please don't- father, please, why-", he muttered, feet kicking away the blanket.

"Kai, hey, Kai!", y/n said loudly, sitting down next to him and touching his chest.

"Kai, wake up, Kai!", she shouted, she couldn't see him like that, it hurt.

Gasping, Kai sat up, his chest heaving and his eyes scanning the room disoriented.

"It's okay, it's okay", y/n mumbled like a mantra, hugging him close.

Kai sobbed lowly, gripping her waist and pulling her even closer.

"Oh God", he groaned quietly, his body calming down slowly.

She let him go after he calmed down mostly, still holding his hands.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", y/n asked, watching him closely.

He shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

"Where-", he cleared his throat, "Where is my ring", he was looking at her neck where his ring would normally hang since she was 14.

"Oh that. I- I'm sorry, I took it off when you didn't let me in anymore. I was so angry and worried.", y/n whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I'm sorry that I did that, I only pushed you out for a few days and after that you never appeared anymore. I was worried sick, myself. Ask Bonnie, I was really grumpy the last weeks", he muttered and y/n laughed quietly.

"It's OK", she said, "And I'm sorry for taking off the necklace."

Kai smiled, squeezing her waist.

She was sitting nearly on top of him and when she realized that, she blushed.

"Oh, shit, sorry", she whispered, making a move to stand up again.

Kai shook his head, pulling her back so that she sat in his lap.

She gasped, grabbing his shoulders. Oh God they were so close.

His arm wrapping around her waist, he pulled her even closer, their chests touching.

Y/n's eyes were wide, her cheeks rosy and her hair falling out of her braid.

Kai smiled softly, his hand touching her neck and cheek.

"God, you're so beautiful", he mumbled leaning towards her and before she knew it their lips touched.

Y/n moaned lowly, her hands gripping his shirt. Angling her head, she kissed back, slipping her tongue between his lips.

Kai's grip around her waist tightened, his hand teasing her braid.

His kiss turned more passionate, her hand clawing at his back, his neck.

"Fuck", Kai gasped as he pulled away, his eyes nearly black.

Y/n nodded shakingly, her lips swollen.

"I've waited so long for this", he chuckled, pecking her lips. Y/n grinned heartily, closing the gap again.

They were finally together.

~

Kai Parker taglist:

@kikii-stfu @panic-naran

#imagine #alaric saltzman #bonnie bennett #chris wood #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #fanfic #josette parker #josette saltzman #kai parker #legacies #malachai parker #oneshot #stefan salvatore #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdedit

[noladrinks]

New from https://noladrinks.com/broadcast/noladrinks-show-turning-tables-foundation-jan20ep2/

NOLADrinks Show – Turning Tables Foundation – Jan20Ep2

On this week’s episode of The NOLADrinks Show with Bryan Dias, we chat with leaders and students from the Turning Tables Foundation. It’s an organization that seeks to train underserved youth in becoming bartenders giving them practical skills and assisting with job placement.

Pictured above from left – Bryan Dias of The NOLADrinks Show, Ronnie Richardson, Touré Foulkes, Jaz Bradley, and Faith Shepherd of Turning Tables.

NOLADrinks Show – Turning Tables Foundation – Jan20Ep2

We start things off with some thoughts on when it’s too late to say, “Happy New Year” and what’s up on this week’s show. We also acknowledge Martin Luther Kind Day as well as the upcoming Chinese New Year. We let you know about the New Orleans Bourbon Festival happening in March.

Then, we’re off to Pax New Orleans, a coffee shop located on Claiborne in the Tremé (note – they will be re-opening soon, which is great news – we’ll keep you posted!) for our featured interview with the Turning Tables Foundation. This excellent program seeks to train underserved youth, with an emphasis on people of color, on getting into the bartending profession.

We’re joined by program director and local bartender, Touré Foulkes, one of the program mentors and also a local bartender, Jaz Bradley, and two students, Faith Shepherd and Ronnie Richardson. We talk about the program, including how it got started and its initial funding from the Tales of the Cocktail Foundation as well as sponsorship by Liberty’s Kitchen, a local non-profit.

Also, we discuss the curriculum and training, the mentorship component, and the breadth of education and hands-on experience the students gain. We get a sense from Faith and Ronnie about what they have gained from participating in Turning Tables and where we might see them “behind the stick” in the very near future.

Additionally, we talk about the importance of the program on numerous levels. This includes touching on the need in the industry for skilled bartenders and how, yet, the unemployment rate of young persons, particularly persons of color, is very high in New Orleans. We discuss some of the barriers and lack of opportunity that can be present for many seeking to work behind the bar. Of note, we chat about how the benefits of what having a local bartender in-the-know about NOLA can mean for an employer, too. (As we often say on this show, information is transmitted in bars, especially here in New Orleans!)

Pictured above from left – Bryan Dias of The NOLADrinks Show, Faith Shepherd, Jaz Bradley, Touré Foulkes, and Ronnie Richardson of Turning Tables.

We continue the conversation on our exclusive podcast-only segment, “Another Shot with NOLADrinks.” Here, we continue some of the threads we chatted about in the previous segments. We also touch on the idea on the “front of house, back of house divide” and, perhaps, some news ways to consider that as well as other salient issues such as wages and tipping.

(BTW – that’s just another heavy New Orleans downpour you hear for a bit that gave us pause!)

We close things out with our “Parting Shot” reflecting on Martin Luther King Day and some connected thoughts.

If you would like to support the Turning Tables Foundation with a donation to keep this terrific program, you can do so by visiting this site here.

The map below shows the location of Pax New Orleans. They currently host regular pops-up and are set to re-open very soon! Thanks to them for hosting us! Check ‘em out!

You can subscribe to, stream, and download The NOLADrinks Show with Bryan Dias podcast using the links and player at the top of the post. Hey – we’re now also found on Pandora and Deezer!

Cheers, You All!

~ Bryan

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#Bartender Training #Inclusivity #Liberty's Kitchen #Sustainability #tales of the cocktail #Turning Tables #Youth Success

[my-52-weeks-with-christie]

My 52 Weeks With Christie:

Hallowe’en Party

Random (And Almost Relevant) Facts: 

Anyone out there ever heard of Snapdragon before? Yes? No? Well, prior to reading Hallowe’en Party I never had. The only reference point I had was the British tradition of dousing a Christmas Pudding with brandy and setting it alight at the end of Christmas dinner. But Snapdragon, from Christie’s description, sounded far more boisterous, chaotic and merry compared to my single point of reference.

Fun Fact: Apparently Christmas/Plum Puddings never caught on on this side of the pond due in large part to the U.S.’s Puritan & Quaker roots, as they considered it, “the invention of the scarlet whore of Babylon”. Which seems a rather harsh view of a pudding.

Anyways...

Since Snapdragon played such a crucial role in Hallowe’en Party, by giving the murderer the perfect distraction/opportunity to commit their dastardly deed, I decided to investigate.

And much to my surprise I discovered this description in an 1855 party guide called:

Home Games For The People: A Collection of Family Amusements For The Fire-Side, Parlour, or Pic-Nic Parties; Consisting of Games of Action; Games simply taxing the Attention; Catch Games, depending on the assistance of an Accomplice; Games requiring the Exercise of Fancy, Memory, Intelligence and Imagination. For The Use of the Old and Young.

(Yes, that’s the title.)

This guide’s instructions (along with several others I discovered) tallies with Christie’s description of events at that fateful Halloween Party attended Ariadne Oliver - pretty blue flames which posed a slight risk of injury, alcohol saturated raisins which cause a mess when plucked from the bowl and participants who enjoyed the diversion immensely.

However, what I found most surprising, after reading the lengthy title page, was the fact the publisher was located in New York! So with a bit more perusing, I discovered Snapdragon was played from about the 16th to 19th centuries in England, Canada, and the United States. (Apparently, the Puritans and Quakers found fault with a pudding but filling a bowl full of spirits, raisins and fire then sending their children to play in it was fine.)

Raisins were the preferred treat. However, currents, figs, grapes, plums or almonds could be substituted if needed or suited the audience better. Originally a Christmas Eve activity it eventually evolved into a Twelfth Night and Halloween diversion as well - which Christie’s mystery illustrates.

Fun Fact: Our esteemed authoress keeps great literary company, both Charles Dickens and Lewis Carroll mention Snapdragon in their works as well.

Three guesses why this tradition died out...and the first two don’t count.

While the liquor, flames, and fruit delighted the younger set and made holiday parties a smashing success, these very same elements often made the day after a bit of a misery for the unlucky. Who wants to spend Christmas Day nursing singed fingers and blistered mouth? (And depending on how quick you snatched the raisins out, the younger participates might get a slight hangover - the spirits don't burn off as quick as you'd think.) So around the beginning of the twentieth century the observance of this custom begun dying out.

Interestingly, its decline in popularity coincides when Christie was growing up - so perhaps she played Snapdragon as a child? No clue. But due to its waning popularity, it explains why the none of the Halloween party-goers notice the killer leading their victim from the room - because Snapdragon could indeed have been a rare treat by 1969!

Fun Fact: According to Atlas Obscura, Snapdragon had an adult variant called Flapdragon. In Flapdragon a lit candle was dropped into a mug of ale, then the individual attempted to down the contents without setting their mustaches, beard or hair on fire.

Now to give you guys a complete picture of this Victorian holiday tradition, I took it upon myself to play a game of Snapdragon.

Purely for due diligence purposes, you understand.

I did, however, decide against playing Flapdragon. Which either proves I am now an adult with an iota of common sense or am merely reluctant to explain to every ER doctor/nurse/lab assistant on duty that I sustained my burns by willingly drinking a beer with a lit candle in it - could go either way.

Plus I already have enough outrageous emergency room anecdotes, thank you.

When I proposed my thrilling new Wednesday night adventure, my husband regretfully declined my invitation. Stating that watching me dip my fingers into fire, popping something on fire into my mouth, while undoubtedly standing to close to the fire was incompatible with one of his primary drives - my safety.

BTW - he did not find Snapdragon a safer alternative to Flapdragon.

So while he sat in the other room playing video games, and definitely not making sure the fire extinguisher and car keys were handy - I played Snapdragon on our balcony!

The flames were lovely. And even better? No burns or blisters to report! Though I am glad, I decided to light the bourbon (we didn't have any brandy) outside, because a little bit goes a long way, and I used a bit too much! The flames got a bit higher than anticipated but other than that it went great!

I can definitely see why both the children & adult's full attention was on the Snapdragon in Hallowe'en Party! It's entertaining and scary all at the same time!

*BTW - Don't try this without a Responsible adult present! Fire is still dangerous, the Victorians were just plain crazy or bored, either way, while this post (is hopefully) funny - this activity is not to be taken lightly. Burns and/or real fires can result. So be it on your head if you try it.

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