On Saturday, I explained she must now earn every orgasm. Each week she had the chance to earn an orgasm ticket by completing a list of tasks. I made a red ticket with the words “one orgasm” printed in gold. Her eyes fixed on the ticket as I waved it around, then slipped it into a drawer.
“This week’s task list is short. Wake me with a blow job twice, edge yourself once a day and send me two naked photos of yourself from a public location.”
She was more than eager. I had a very nice alarm clock and two new photos taken in a department store change room.
When the next Saturday came, she vibrated with excitement, or perhaps just arousal. I could see she was waiting for me to say something and trying not to ask.
“OK, go get the ticket from the drawer.”
She quickly ran off and returned with the ticket in her hand. Dancing back and forth on her her tip toes, staring at the ticket, she asked, “How do I use it?”
My face darkened. As she turned to me, the smile dropped from her face
“Who owns your orgasms?”
“You do, sir,”
She knelt at my feet and presented the ticket.
“I earned this for you,” she said meekly.
I retrieved a large vase from the cupboard and placed it on the mantel.
“This will be a symbol of your devotion to me,” I said as I dropped the ticket into the vase. “I may save them up, filling the entire vase. When I choose to reward you with an orgasm, I will remove a ticket. I may use them all at once. When it’s empty, you know you will not cum. If you misbehave, I will destroy a ticket. Perhaps I’ll burn one, just to see it burn. But if you orgasm without permission, I will burn every ticket.”
prompt: ‘Flower shop AU Prompt: Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says ‘How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?’for @treehousesandpoohbears
word count: 1783
Bellamy Blake, small town florist, is used to sharing in the big moments of his customers’ lives. He’s seen them through everything from first date jitters to the stages of grief. But this–Clarke Griffin storming into his shop, furious, asking for a hate bouquet–is still something of a surprise.
Two weeks ago, at the Bi-Monthly Downtown Arkadia Small Business Association meeting, Luna, from the nature store on the corner, looked at him very seriously, took his hands in hers, and told him that he had been a warrior in another life. “A brave warrior-king,” she said.
Yeah, okay. Maybe in another life.
In this life, Bellamy’s just a guy who knows a ton about flowers.
Because he knows flowers, and because Arkadia is the sort of small hamlet where people greet each other by name on the street, Bellamy also knows everyone’s business. He knows about every engagement, wedding, baby shower, and funeral. He knows which high school kids are going to prom together. He keeps records on his more forgetful customers’ anniversaries. And when someone screws up and actually feels bad about it, Bellamy knows about that, too, because nothing says I’m sorry like a purple hyacinth bouquet.
The people who come into his little shop are sometimes ecstatic, sometimes despondent, often nervous. They’re not usually angry, though. Even less often are they absolutely furious. So when Clarke Griffin stomps in, shoving the door open so roughly that even the friendly tinkle of the welcome bell sounds agitated, slams a twenty down on the countertop, and asks, “How I do passively-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” it’s a bit of a surprise.
He stares at her for a long moment, and pauses in arranging the daisies in Harper McIntyre’s get-well-soon bouquet. “It sounds to me like you want to aggressively say 'fuck you’ in flower."
Summary : Imagine being Sherlock’s girlfriend and your the head of forensics. Anderson tries to win you over, but never understand why you turn him down.
You walked into you lab and there was a large vase of flowers on the desk. You rolled your eyes as you picked up the card. They were from Anderson. You groaned as you read the card that had some poem he had written for you.
Tags: Slight Angst, Possible break up, but then no break up
“It isn’t over - We are not over yet.”
Tom had begun to pull away over the past two months. Harry had looked in the other direction as he didn’t want to be one of those clingy types of lovers who have to be all up in the business of their significant others all the time. But it finally came to that point in time where he could no longer be complacent.
“Tom, be honest with me. You’ve been paying more attention to your books and your precious Slytherin heritage to really focus on anything else. I can only be supportive for so long until I feel like I’m being ignored.”
The Slytherin Heir glared, obviously not seeing the situation the same way Harry did. “I took you out to Hogsmeade last week.”
“Correction - I took myself to Hogsmeade and you invited yourself along and proceeded to write in your diary the entire time. You barely spoke to me and you didn’t even eat because you were so focused on whatever it was that you were writing.”
He found himself enjoying how put out Tom was at having his actions thrown in his face so relentlessly. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that Tom had the beginnings of an obsessive disorder. The teen needed to learn how to split his attention better, otherwise he would lose a lot of important opportunities in his life.
And still, Harry hadn’t yet touched upon what was really bothering him the most.
“I get that you’re proud to finally know that you have something you think is important about you, but you’ve been a dick about it.”
Tom’s affronted gasp wasn’t surprising.
“I’m the only person who knows your heritage and I know what you’ve been trying to do, and I’m not happy about it. Especially since Dumbledore watches us all the time anyway and you haven’t been as discreet as you think you’ve been.”
“Dumbledore has no id-”
“I was called into his office, Tom!”
Harry sighed as Tom demanded to know exactly when such an interaction occurred.
“Two weeks ago,” he stated, hating the memory. “As I’m a Gryffindor, he tried to word it like he was worried about my wellbeing when under your influence. He said some things and asked me if I knew anything that I should be telling other people.”
“What did you say?”
He glared at his soon-to-be-former-lover. “Nothing, you twat! I like him about as much as you do and there’s nothing he could do short of law breaking to get me to say anything.”
Tom’s loosening shoulders went tense again when Harry added, “I could have told him what I know about the Chamber and your connection to it and the incident, but I didn’t.”
A stiff jaw. “Why did you keep it to yourself if you’re so angry with me?”
Harry was practically growling. “Because I’m a bloody gem and while I’ve wanted but to kick you in the bullocks most recently, I’m not so petty as to cause you problems. Besides, I still care about you, even if you don’t reciprocate those feelings any longer.”
Tom let out a curse that shattered one of the large vases to their right. It was good that the Room of Requirement held so much junk, lest Tom get into trouble for his actions. His good boy image would be ruined, much like that poor vase.
“I never stopped… caring for you. I am simply attempting to work some things out. I figured if I dedicated all available time to my plan, then it’ll come to fruition faster.”
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help you know.”
At Tom’s exasperated look, Harry shrugged. “You know I’m right. I have told you this constantly. Hell, if you had just come to me, we could have been doing this together instead of me having to deal with my sadness as well as and Fawcett and Smith bothering me constantly to see if I’m a ‘free man’ again.”
Another stiffening of the jaw. Tom was so easy to rile up.
“Chang asked me out for the next Hogsmeade trip,” Harry said, knowing how annoyed it would make Tom.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t speak with you about this. I’m not used to asking people for help you realise?”
How Tom managed to turn Harry’s anger into sympathy within second, was an unknown power. He hated it, but he also realised the truth in those words. Before Hogwarts, Tom had had no one and had to look out for himself, so it wouldn’t cross his mind to ask his boyfriend for assistance.
Still… “I’m still annoyed over being ignored. Fifty-eight days without even a kiss, Tom! Fifty-eight days!”
His face flamed. “Don’t turn this on me! This is about your neglectful actions, Riddle!”
Tom wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders in order to pull him into his embrace.
“I apologise for hurting you, Harry. I’ll just have to make it up to you in any way you’d like.”
This could be very good if he played his cards right.
“And I must make sure that Chang, Fawcett, and Smith are put into place once more.”
through the narrow streets, you squeeze your bags in your hands. I’m
late. I’m gonna be too late, and he’s going to leave me here, out of
spite… You turn a corner,
bumping into an elderly man casually walking down the alleyway.
watch where you’re going!”
sorry! I’m so sorry!” you shout in passing, hurrying down the stairs
on the alley that leads towards the main road.
Summary- Where Tony needs more people on his side, so he brings a convicted murderer, and ex-assassin/acrobat onto his side, and Peter takes more of an interest in Velma Kelly than he’d like to admit.
Warnings- Descriptions of violence, blood and murder, and strong language.
AN- Enjoy! can’t wait to fully write this story! Also, I see Velma Kelly as Ariana Grande or someone like that, and then another character later on (Mona Faye) would be Rihanna
VELMA KELLY had her claim to fame when she was charged and found guilty of the murder of her sister, Veronica and boyfriend Charlie. Not that played innocent for a second, she never denied she did the crime just stated she blacked out, and had no memory of the event.
It took fifteen minutes for jury to agree that Velma Kelly was indeed a murderer, at the age of seventeen.
She wasn’t ashamed of her crime, it wasn’t something she backed down from. Instead she reasoned with the judge, telling him he would’ve done the same if he walked in on his wife doing a spread eagle with the neighbour.
She was sentenced with life in prison and a tariff of twenty-five years. Not to breathe proper air or feel the sun on her skin until she was forty-two.
Just before she walked out of the courtroom, and to the car that would take her to her home for god knows how long, the judge asked her for any final words.
She spoke, loudly and clearly, making sure the journalists at the back would be able to hear her.
“How come I am sentenced to life, when the people you call ‘Earths mightiest heroes’ are no better-”
Taking one look around she noticed the man dressed exceptionally better than those surrounding him, tinted glasses covering his eyes, as if they would dramatically change his appearance.
But Velma was far too smart, also his iconic facial hair was recognisable even from the stands.
“Take your golden boy and best science experiment. Captain America, the man who would save us all, yes?”
She heard multiple murmurs, but all she cared about was the man in the Tom Ford suit, who leaned forward.
“Then how come he’s protecting one of the most wanted men in the whole world. Shouldn’t you be after the Winter Soldier rather then me? Or do you really put that much trust into your 'heroes’?”
Tony watched her leave, no sign of regret or fright, instead a smirk. Because she knew she made everyone in the room question who they thought was protecting their country and world.
So it didn’t surprise Velma much when she was escorted down the hallways of the prison, that had been her home for six months, towards a very impatient Tony Stark and a cautious Thunderbolt Ross.
“Well, are we going to stand around all day. Or are you going to explain to me why the golden boy is now a fugitive?”
Heart and Daggers part 2! Hope all enjoy
After Klaus left I went to bed feeling drained. I didn’t have to pack, everything that was at the apartment I had bought either, all my other belongings were at the house in the quarter. I laid in bed second guessing myself until I fell asleep. Early in the morning there was a knock on my door then Rebekah’s voice, “rise and shine Juliana.” She waltzed into the bedroom. I let out a groan, “did you have to come this early?”
“Yes, Elijah’s still asleep. Now come on, Klaus has everything ready, your room all set up.” She pulled the blankets off and left the room. I got up and dressed rather quickly not wanting Elijah to wake before I got there.
“Ready now?” Rebekah asked by the door. I nodded grabbing a coat, “yeah.”
“Good, my car is out front.” She left swiftly and I followed locking the door behind me.
“Now the room Klaus picked out for you is on the other side of the house, near his, and it’s big.” Rebekah talked through the drive to the house, I answered every once in awhile with a nod, or a few words.
“Here we are, come on I’ll show you to your room.” Rebekah took me inside, up some stairs and down a hallway to some rooms.
“Here’s yours.” She opened a door and let me in. She wasn’t kidding when she told me the room was big, it had cream colored walls, a large bed with purple covers opposite the door, a wardrobe, desk, and its own bathroom. I soon found that Klaus had indeed moved everything of mine into the room, clothes, pictures(none of Elijah, which I was grateful for), new blankets, and covers.
“Will it suit you?” Klaus asked suddenly standing in the door. I turned and nodded, “thank you Klaus.”
“We’ll leave you to get settled. If you’re hungry just let us know.” Rebekah said walking back out shutting the doors. I let out a shaky breath as I was left alone. Looking over my room, it looked like I had lived here for a long time. Klaus had even put a few books on my night stand. My stomach was turning from nervous and anticipation. I sat on the bed trying to read and listened to the household wake, Klaus had been yelling at someone or about something. Suddenly there was a knock on my door.
“Juliana?” Cami’s voice questioned.
“Come in.” I answered and smiled as she entered.
“Hey.” She says kindly, “what’s up?”
“Nothing really, just reading.” I responded.
“I was wondering if you’d like to get a coffee? Walk around town for a bit?” She asked.
“Sure, just let me get my purse.” I hopped off the bed and grabbed my purse from the closet. I was dressed in jeans with brown boots, and a violet colored top, my brown hair lying loose upon my shoulders. We made it out of the house unnoticed.
“So who asked you to do this? Klaus or Rebekah?” I asked Cami as we walked down the streets to a coffee shop.
“No one, I figured I’d come out and hang out with you. I know what you’re going through.” She explained. I smiled slightly, “thanks.” We went and got coffee, window shopped walking around town, and laughing all afternoon.
“Thanks for cheering me up.” I smiled brightly.
“No problem, it was fun.” She smiled back, “I’m sorry to leave but I gotta start my shift.” She said apologetically.
“It’s okay. I had a really good time.” I reassured her, “I’ll see you later.” With that she left. I slowly made my way back to the house. It was quiet and everything in the house seemed still. I began up the stairs when I heard other footsteps coming down. I glanced up and walked faster passing Haley. I turned a corner and was gone not stopping until I reached my room. I pushed the door open and walked in slowly seeing the figure looking around in my room.
“Can I help you?” I asked as Elijah turned around.
“I was wondering why all your things had disappeared from our room…now I know. No doubt Klaus did it.” He said looking around then to me, “he left all the pictures of you and I with me…” I saw the hurt in his eyes.
“Yes, well I think he thought it was for the best, and I agree.” I opened the door more moving to the side inviting him to leave. He didn’t.
“I’m glad your back.” He said softly coming closer.
“Klaus asked, so did Rebekah.” I responded holding my head up.
“Is that all?” He questioned.
“Klaus said I should come and hold me ground.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” He was inches from me now.
“Yes, in the process of.” I said firmly, “now I’m sure you have many things to do, so please don’t let me keep you.” I ducked away and walked further into my room. I kept my back turned to him and heard his footsteps retreat. I closed the doors to my bedroom, took a hot shower then began a new book. Suddenly I hear a loud crash followed by Klaus yelling. I looked up slowly waiting for a response. Soon another crash came followed by more yelling. I got up quickly and jogged to Klaus’s painting room. I looked in and saw Klaus bursting with rage, Elijah was in the room his back turned towards the door, so was Rebekah. Klaus suddenly hurled a large old vase out the door narrowly missing my head.
“You know now I’m gonna have to explain that to the museum.” I said as it broke on the ground. I walked further into the room.
“Niklaus please calm down.” Elijah said.
“What’s happening?” I asked standing next to Rebekah.
“Klaus lost Lucian.” She answered clearly bored with her brothers’ attitude.
“I DID NOT LOSE HIM!” He shouted, “IT-IT WAS THOSE IMBECILES! THE THINGS THAT THINK THEY ARE WORTHY ENOUGH TO SERVE ME! THE STUPID IGNORANT VAMPIRES HAVE LOST LUCIAN.” He gritted his teeth, “now I have to pick up they failed, I have to stop my search for the witches, who are trying to kill my child, and chase after a LUNATIC!!”
“We are all protecting her, Nick.” Rebekah answered, “nothing is going to happen to her.”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” He yelled stepping closer.
“Niklaus please. Let’s be rational about this,” Elijah spoke, and I looked straight ahead, “we can track down the witches then Lucian.”
“I can track down Lucian.” I spoke up earning looks from all three of them, “if we split up we can, we can get both things done faster.”
“No, not alone it’s too risky.” Elijah said before turning back to Klaus, he began to speak again but I stopped him, “you don’t get to decide that.” He looked at me again stepping closer, “he is too dangerous, you are not going out there alone.”
“And why are you the one that gets to decide what I can and cannot do?” I hissed stepping up to him, “I got rid of him once before when you could not.”
“She has a point Elijah.” Klaus stepped up, glancing at him then looking at me, “you can go. Take Marcel. The last of my vampires heard of him, he was near an old farm house.” He handed me a piece of paper with an address on it.
“Thank you.” I grabbed the slip of paper and walked out, and down the stairs.
“Juliana.” I heard Elijah call, “Juliana, wait.” I kept walking. Suddenly he flashed in front of me. I stopped with an irritated sigh and looked up at him.
“Don’t do this.” He said, “not alone.”
“I’ll be with Marcel.” I answered.
“And what protection will he offer you? Lucian is stronger than him.” He continued, “let me come with you.”
“Why do you automatically assume that I will fail? I got rid of him last time.”
“Does it not strike you as odd at how easily he backed off last time? How do you know this will not be a trap?” He stepped closer his voice soft. A shiver went down my spine having him so close.
“I don’t expect it to be anything less.” I answered, “I’m not an idiot, neither is Marcel. Now let me go. You can do what you’re good at and stay here with Hayley.” I turned on my heel and left.
“So I trust you have an address?” Marcel asked sliding into the passenger’s seat.
“Yep.” I handed him the slip of paper.
“Alright let’s go.” He buckled as I drove off, “so Klaus filled me in a bit, you think it’s a trap?”
“Don’t know what else it would be. He gave up too easily last time.” I kept my eyes on the road.
“Mhm…so how are things?” He asked, his voice sounded hesitant. I glanced at him, and shrugged, “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
“Understandable.” He nodded patting his legs, silence filled the air.
“We’re here.” I said after about twenty more minutes of driving. We had stopped outside of town at an old rundown farm house, “lets go see what we can find.”
“It looks empty.” Marcel answered walking up the stairs.
“I think that’s the point.” I answered looking in the window.
“So, are we supposed to bring him back alive? Or not alive?” He answered trying the door, it was locked.
“Alive, Klaus wants to talk to him.” I answered, then went to the door and pushed on it until it opened breaking the hinges. We walked into the house carefully hearing nothing at first, it looked like no one lived there.
“This place looks deserted.” Marcel said walking around a corner.
“Remember what I said about trap.” I answered looking around.
“Juliana-” Marcel called but was cut short ending with a gurgle. I raced around the corner, and froze, Lucian stood with his arms around Marcels neck.
“Lucian don’t.” I spoke softly stepping closer.
“Not another step.” He hissed tightening his arms around Marcels neck. I stopped and raised my hands slightly, “alright, I’ll stay right here.”
“Good.” He smirked, “well since that there has been nothing thrown at my head, I assume that you two came alone.”
“They know where we are.” Marcel choked out.
“Now now, you are in no position to talk.” Lucian answered, he looked back at me, “I assume you have come here to capture me? Bring me back to Klaus?” He chuckled, “I don’t plan on seeing him again, unless it’s to kill him, and Elijah. Then after that the rest of the Mikaelsons.” He smiled smugly. I swallowed roughly, took a deep breath, then suddenly I was beside him clutching his neck.
“Let him go.” I hisssed.
“Snapping my neck won’t kill me.” He his voice tense.
“No.” I replied smoothly, “but it will give me time to bring you to Klaus…or rip your heart out.”
He chuckled and Marcel go, “do you really think I’d be doing this alone?” He mused then sent out a shrill whistle. At first nothing happened, then suddenly a large brown dog jumped on to Marcel, he screamed in agony as the wolf bit into his shoulder.
“No!” I screamed, “call them off Lucian!” I jerked him closer.
“Do you really think you’re the only ones with wolf allies?” He laughed cruelly, “try getting out of-” I snapped his neck letting him fall to the ground limp. Marvel threw the wolf off of him smashing him into a wall. I turned quickly at I heard a growl, several more wolfs moves forward. Quickly I slammed one into a wall as it lunged forward.
“There’s more this way.” Marcel breathed out.
“Try not to get bit again…” I replied. Side met all the wolf’s lunges towards me. I tossed one away as another bit into my arm. Tossing it into another room, then suddenly my body jerked downward. I held a wolf back as s it lunged at my throat. Marcel and I kept fighting as they kept biting. Finally they stopped, no more came.
“I think they’re gone.” Marcel said weakly falling towards a wall. I caught him by the arm and helped him sit.
“They bit you sever times.” I looked over his wounds.
“I think you got more.” He answered beginning to breath heavily, “I don’t think it’s good to have that much werewolf venom in your system.”
“But it won’t kill me.” I answered then glanced over at Lucian, he was still unconscious, “stay here. I have a vile of Klaus’s blood in the car.” I got up slowly and vamped towards the falling against the door. I looked threw the console until I found the bottle.
“Got it.” I stumbled back into the house and to Marcel. My chest was rising and falling rapidly as I felt my body begin to heat up. Marcel took the blood, I sat next to him against the wall, “you need to drive us home, get Lucian in the trunk.” I handed him the keys. After a few moments he got up, got Lucian and put him in the trunk. I walked to the car slowly and dizzy, Marcel helped me into the passenger seat, then he got into the driver’s seat.
“How are you feeling?” He asked starting the car.
“Like crap.” I grumbled sinking into my seat.
“We’ll be home soon.”
I closed my eyes as the car moved. Sounds seemed a distant muffle, every jolt that the car made felt like nails digging into my bones. I heard someone saying my name, but soon it drained away into nothing.
I touched the soft fabric of the draped in the room as I looked around. I turned as the door opened, Elijah walked in. I could tell by the look on his face he was concerned.
“You’re worried.” I said softly. He looked up sitting on the bed, “we are putting our lives in the hands of a stranger. It would be unwise not to worry.”
“Rebekah seems happy to be sleeping in a bed. So does Finn. We could stay here.” I replied walking closer.
“If Kol behaves, if they do not find us out, if no one is suspicious. There are too many things that could go wrong.”
“Nothing has yet.” I set a hand on his shoulder.
“That does not mean nothing will.”
“Well nothing has.” I sat next to him, “Kol seemed pleased to have a warm place to sleep. No one suspects us, how would they find out? The family we are suppose to be, are…taken care off.”
“Lucian is, if he decides to betray us, if that-”
“Elijah.” I cut him off turning his head towards me, “nothing has happened yet, take a breath. Today, was a good day.” I gently pressed my forehead to his.
“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered. I smiled softly, “I love you.”
“Always and Forever.” He kissed my lips.
Light flooded my vision as my eyes opened slowly. Blinking I recognized the ceiling. I was back in my room, I swallowed my throat sore.
“You’re awake.” I heard the voice before I saw who it belonged too. Elijah walked forward and gently put a hand on my forehead, “how do you feel?”
“Drained.” I answered.
“You were out of it for a while.” He answered, “this is why I wanted to come with you.”
“Where’s Marcel?” I tried to sit up but Elijah gently pushed me back down, I stared up at him.
“He’s fine. You need to rest. There was a lot of-”
“Venom in my system, I know.” I finished for him. He nodded slowly, bent down to kiss my forehead, but I turned my head away.
“Rest.” He whispered gently before leaving.
“You’re suppose to be resting.” Klaus said walking into my room as I finished dressing in new clothes.
“Bed rest never suited me. I feel better.” I answered turning towards him, “do you have Lucian?”
“Yes, thanks to you and Marcel he is safe and secure in the basement. Ready for me questioning him.” Klaus nodded
“Well I’m glad you have him. How did it go with the witches?”
“It was…eventful.” He said prolonging his words, “they won’t be giving us any more trouble for a while. Now I must get back to Lucian.” He went to the door but turned, “please do take it easy…and if you must know, when Marcel brought you back, Elijah? He never left your side.” With that he gracefully left the room. I sat on the bed, replaying Klaus’s words in head…honestly I didn’t know what I was thinking. I was still furious at him, hated him…but how could I hate someone that I could loved for hundreds of years. But how could he forget what we had for hundreds of years?
reading about famous artists/writers/etc complimenting or criticizing other famous artists/writers/etc back in their day always strikes me as the coolest thing
In November 1888, Van Gogh wrote: “Gauguin was telling me the other day—that he’d seen a painting by Claude Monet of sunflowers in a large Japanese vase, very fine. But—he likes mine better. I’m not of that opinion.”
Here it is! As @deelitefulsimmer can tell you, I’ve been
working hard to get this set finished and released! I’m really so happy with
the way it turned out. You can thank @deelitefulsimmer for the painted wood
texture idea! I had to redo almost*all*
the textures when she suggested it, lol.
The robin’s egg blue one is dedicated to her.
The curtains in this set make me happy. I love them. They
are my favorite thing I’ve ever made. I’m trying to get them to be able to take
alpha so I can make some sheer ones, but those aren’t done yet. Soon, I hope.
They are cloned from a poster so they don’t snap to windows, sorry to those of
you who prefer snapping curtains!
I hope you enjoy this set! Let me know what you think!
1. The scream. Ingredients: one large glass of vodka, one mime artist. Method: fill glass with vodka. Instruct mime artist to remain on the other side of the glass at all times. Any time you look into the glass, the mime artist makes that face. You know the one. Later on, the mime artist will trap you in an invisible, ever-shrinking box while she finishes off the vodka. You will regret that you ever ordered The Scream.
2. The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living. Ingredients: 5% formaldehyde solution, shark. You may need to use a dwarf lantern shark or similar to get it to fit in the glass. Method: fill large glass with formaldehyde, add shark. Note: do not drink this, you will die.
3. Piss Christ. Ingredients: piss, Christ. One of the few cocktails that one may make whilst stranded at sea on a makeshift raft. Depending on religious sensibilities, availability and level of desire to blaspheme at the horror of your fate, Christ may be substituted by other objects to hand, such as bits of mainbraces, yardarms, etc. Serve in a conch shell whilst cursing the relentless sunlight.
4. Sunflowers. Ingredients: your favourite cocktail, sunflowers. Method: make your favourite cocktail. Place in large vase. Fill with sunflowers. No, you can’t have a straw. Is there a straw in the picture? No. Just put your face in there. This is art.
5. The Persistence of Memory. Ingredients: a dazzling and regrettable cornucopia of intoxicants, a clock. Method. Place the clock on the edge of a flat surface. Consume the intoxicants. When the clock flops over the edge, you will have successfully accomplished this cocktail. Put a tick in your artbook and pat yourself on the back of your curious doughnut-head.
6. The Garden of Earthly Delights. Ingredients: strawberry juice, cherry juice, buttocks, a bagpipe. Method: Mix ingredients. Serve in a giant bird-headed monster feasting on human corpses.
~Ingredients: storm water, rose thorns, nails, and protection herbs. My additions*: fingernails, black pepper, bay leaf, cloves, cinnamon, basil, oregano, parsley.
~Incantation 1: “Strong as lightning, thunder & rain; all attempts to harm me will be in vain.”
~Incantation 2: “Tough as a nail, sharp as a thorn; through this spell new strength shall be born.”
Original Instructions: 1) Add protective herbs to your jar. 2) Add
storm water to about halfway up the jar. While you add it, say Incantation 1. If you can’t say the spell out loud, write it down on a piece of
paper and add that into the jar. 3) Add the thorns and nails
into the jar and say Incantation 2. If you can’t say the spell out loud,
write it down on a piece of paper and add that into the jar.
My Personal Steps: (Added moon element and channeling of the Mother Goddess and Moon Goddess)
-At the onset of the storm, I went outside with a large vase and held it up to the sky; asking the moon goddess to bless the storm and it’s water with her power to bring into my spell. I let the rain catch as I prepared the rest.
-I filled the jar with the herbs, and wrote each incantation down on a piece of paper.
-I went outside to see the storm had stopped and I began to pour the storm water from the vase into the spell jar while stating Incantation 1.
-After pouring the water in, I dropped the paper with Incantation 1 written on it into the jar and shook it around a bit. I held up the jar to the moon once more, asking for her blessing.
-While in between the two incantations, and following each one; I appealed to the moon goddess to protect me from something specific on my upcoming trip.
-Added nails and thorns and spoke Incantation 2. I swirled the jar many times, and then walked out onto the grass to channel the mother goddess as well. I continued to chant Incantation 2 a few times while doing this. I also held up the jar to the moon goddess; thereby channeling the mother goddess of mother nature through my feet in the grass and extending up to the moon goddess in the sky with my hands. I asked for each of their blessings and did this until I felt satisfied.
-I returned and slipped the paper with Incantation 2 into the jar, sealed it; and then left it out all night to be blessed and infused with the moon power.
-The following day, I preformed a small offering and calling to the Mother Goddess and sealed the jar with the wax from the candle for that offering.I also charged a quartz crystal necklace in the spell jar to infuse it with the protection charm.
*Reasons for my spell jar additions:
-Fingernails: I didn’t know honestly if it was regular nails or nail-nails…so I figured I’d do both *shrug*
-Cinnamon: good luck, peace, prosperity, protection, psychic
development, success, communication, happiness,
harmony, healing, meditation, purification,
spirituality, tranquility, wisdom. Cinnamon is
important as a purification incense in China.
Artist: Giovanni Battista Cavalletto and his son Scipione Cavalletto, in the style of.
Figurative Decoration: Large illuminated initial on fol. 100r in the design of a classical vase; very large historiated initial on fol. 1r (about 105 mm. square) showing the Annunciation, within an elaborate classical surround and with full illuminated border including classical vases and birds (very cropped).
Other Decoration: Rubrics in red, some calligraphic initials with decorative penwork including human profiles, etc.; large and small initials throughout in alternating blue with purple penwork and red with blue penwork.
Source: Bloomington, Indiana University, Bloomington, Lilly Library at Indiana University, Poole 17
You played around with the food on your plate, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach. Making small talk with Isaac’s father around the dinner table always made you want to curl up into a ball and stay there for the rest of eternity. He had that kind of effect.
“Um, so far, it’s an A in French and a B- in econ.” Your boyfriend of eight months said shakily as his dad asked him about school, it made you enraged that the ‘what are your grades right now?’ question always came before the ‘how are you, son?’ question. It was like he didn’t even care about how Isaac was, about how he’s barely coping.
Sometimes Isaac’s dad insisted you came over for dinner but as much as Isaac tried to discretely tell you ‘say no’ you always cracked under his father’s harsh glare, scared for what could happen if you disobeyed him.
Afraid that if you told him no, Isaac might get hurt.
Isaac glanced at you; you nodded and smiled encouragingly at him. And even though you’d met Isaac’s dad before, quite a couple times; your hatred for him never lessened.
You had tried to get Isaac to tell someone about what was happening at home but he shot down the idea every time. Always mumbling something inaudible about his mom and brother.
“What about chemistry?” His father asked with a hard expression. You shifted nervously in your seat, Isaac took your hand from under the table and you immediately squeezed it to try and comfort him.
“I’m not sure, uh- midterms are in a few weeks so it could go up,” Isaac mumbled, his eyes filtering around the room in desperate need not to make eye contact. You could tell his dad didn’t seem impressed with his answer.
“What’s it at now?“
“Grade?” Isaac asked anxiously, noticeably gulping.
“Well, yeah.” His dad laughed mockingly and you couldn’t help but cough quietly as the tension continued to rise in the enclosed kitchen. His father’s head snapped over to you; he raised an eyebrow in questioning. “Anything you wanted to add, [Y/N]?”
“O-oh uh, just that we haven’t been told our grades in chem yet.” He had caught you off guard, your nerves being noticeable by the stutters and rough lies you told. He stayed quiet for a while and you couldn’t tell if what you had said had made things worse or better.
“Okay, but Isaac just said that it could go up.” He pointed out and you bit your lip as you realised he may have seen through your lousy lie.
Isaac ran his free hand through his curls as he stuttered out, “I-i just meant, like, generally.”
His father’s eyes drifted to yours as he stared at you expectantly, said uncomfortable feeling in your stomach grew as you gulped apprehensively. “Has Isaac ever told you that you’re a terrible liar, [Y/N]?” He asked casually but you thought it felt anything but casual at this point.
Your eyes darted to Isaac before you glanced back at his dad. “Oh, I-uh.. I don’t-”
”[Y/N] just said that we haven’t been told our grades yet.“ Isaac cut me off with his almost inaudible mumbles but it was so agonisingly and awkwardly quiet that you could hear just about anything.
“Do you want to take this conversation downstairs?” His father asked and you felt Isaac’s jittery hands freeze in fear as he shook his head at his dad.
“I don’t think-” You started but got cut off by him addressing Isaac firmly.
“Tell me the grade, son.” Isaac and his father began talking over one another and you couldn’t help but notice the terrified look in Isaac’s eyes.
You couldn’t count on one hand how many times he had shown up at your doorstep covered with blood, bruises and tears falling too fast. He would cry and you would just hold him tightly until he calmed down.
He would explain what happened and you would continuously tell him to move in with you in your apartment to get away from his dad but he would decline. Saying that he couldn’t burden you like that. Although, he would never feel like a burden because not only was he your boyfriend of eight months but he was also your best friend of about ten years.
Except, you’ve only ever witnessed the aftermath of what had happened, never had you actually seen his father hurt him.
“It’s- it’s a D,” Isaac muttered, defeated. Then everyone fell into silence for a couple seconds.
“Alright. I’m not angry.” His dad said and you looked over at him with a somewhat shocked expression on your face. “Although I am going to need to punish you, it’s my responsibility as a parent.”
Isaac eyed his father nervously before he added, “so tell you what, you do the dishes and clean up the kitchen.” Isaac let out a breath of relief as he looked over at you, you caught his eye and smiled slightly. Maybe everything would be okay.
“Good. Because I would really like to see this entire place spotless.“ He added before the sound of shattering glass filled your ears and you rapidly jumped back in your seat. Isaac’s tightened his grip on your hand and your eyes shot over to him in worry. You were wrong.
His father snarled at you and Isaac before smashing all the glass on the table making you gasp and flinch away from him; your heart thumped against your chest in fear. His dad shot up from his seat, teeth bared and Isaac yanked you out of your seat before he shakily pulled you behind him as you both coward in the corner of the room.
"Absolutely spotless.” He grinned menacingly before snatching a large glass vase from on top of a cabinet. Your eyes widened as you saw him raise the vase above his head, and then everything else happened in what seemed like slow motion.
“Isaac!” You shouted before pushing him with all the strength you had, he stumbled to the side and you were thankful that he did: you didn’t want to witness Isaac’s own father hurting him. The vase shattered against the wall and you tried to cover yourself with your arms but you felt a piece of the glass slice your skin just under your eye.
You winced as you looked up slowly, Isaac’s fear turned to concern as he rushed towards you, taking your face in between his large hands. His eyes darted all across your face as you pulled the fragment of glass out with a sharp breath.
“Well, that was her fault.” His dad’s smug voice was heard from across the room. That’s when Isaac’s concern for you promptly turned to rage as he turned to his father who had a bitter smirk on his face.
“You could’ve blinded her!” He shouted as he stalked closer to his dad.
You swiftly followed after him as you wiped the blood off your cheek, “Isaac! Isaac, it’s okay. I’m alright.” You stood in front of him; putting your hand on his chest in an attempt to stop him from revealing the pack’s secret
“Shut up! It’s just a scratch!” His father rolled his eyes in annoyance and that sparked something in Isaac as his jaw clenched and his eyes started to glow a vibrant yellow. Your eyes widened at the sight as you spun around to see if his dad had seen his sudden eye colour change and you quietly cursed as you realised he had.
“Listen to me, I’m okay.” You whispered as you tried to stop him from losing control. You noticed his claws grow from his fingertips so you discretely took his hand in yours.
“Isaac?” His father asked with confusion but you ignored him, pulling Isaac out the Lahey household and down the path.
“Isaac!” He continued to yell as you pulled him round the corner before stopping him abruptly, you made sure that his father had gone the other way before turning towards your boyfriend who had his eyes shut tightly and was breathing heavily.
“Hey,” Your voice was soft as you took his hands in yours.
“No, [Y/N]. He hurt you.” Isaac growled adamantly as he snapped his eyes open, the still yellow colour glowing and you knew that because he was only just recently bitten that controlling the urges was difficult.
You couldn’t think of anything else to say to stop the process so you took a chance and pressed your lips to his. It took a couple seconds before he started to kiss back. You moved your hands from his hands and put on the back of his neck and the other tugging at his curly, blonde hair.
His hands travelled down before they rested at on your hips, he pulled you closer than thought possible before pushing you against the wall. He tapped your left thigh to tell you to jump but you pulled away, smirking at him before letting out a small chuckle.
“Not now,” You breathed, both you and Isaac trying to catch your breath as he leaned his head in the crook of your neck.
“Thank you, so much.” He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your neck before pulling away slightly to face you.
“For what?” You asked with a slight smile on your face at how close you two were. Normally, he hated small spaces because of the freezer situation but when it came to being close to you, he thought nothing felt safer.
“For being there for me, tonight and every night when things like this happen. I’m just sorry you had to see that and get hurt. I hate him,” Isaac announced but you just shook your head, the smile gracing your lips never lessening.
“I love you.” You mumbled and Isaac’s frown instantaneously vanished as he grinned at you; he pressed his lips to yours once again before pulling away just seconds later.
You hadn’t lived in the bunker for long, but seeing Sam had sworn it wasn’t him and Dean was, well, Dean, the only one who had any sort of access to your room, at least enough to arrange a few (absolutely beautiful) flowers in a vase and put it next to your bed was the angel.
But then Cas gave you this look when he walked in and saw you holding the vase and fiddling with the petals. The look he carries when he sees something peculiar - the tilt of his head, the parting of his lips. Even then, you still thought it was him, until Dean walked by behind him, saw you, and didn’t even comment on the large vase in your lap - just nodded and walked away.
He kept humming under his breath, going through the fridge for what you assumed was a very late dinner.
“Ha - what?” he asks, his voice low, stable. Too low, too stable. “Didn’t see you there. You, uh, want some pizza?”
Sure, Mr. Thirty-Years-A-Hunter, you didn’t see me there. “No, we humans have dinner before midnight. I’m good.”
“This ain’t dinner.”
“This is pizza.”
“Oh of course,” you said, “Pizza has its own special stomach that never ever makes you fat,” you said, “Or causes heartburn.”
He rolled his eyes. “God, it’s like you’re Sam and Dr. Oz blended together,” he said, stuffing his food into the microwave, “Only shorter and a lot more annoying.”
“Is that why you brought me flowers?”
He raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat and so casually crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that why I what now?”
“Flowers,” you repeated, mirroring his pose, “Small and fluffy and oh-so-pink.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, “I don’t do flowers.”
“No, you just do the people you bring flowers to.”
He blinked, face a shade of red he’d never admit to ever being without the external presence of blood. “I - no - what? No. That’s not - I -” He cleared his throat one more time. “I was just redecorating, Jesus.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, a smile dancing on your lips, “Because, you know, they’re pretty awesome flowers.”
“I -” He blinked several other times, eyes fixed at his feet. “I, uh, you - um - said something,” he said, “the other day, about them, and I just - I just - uh - fuck, um -”
“I just need to get my pizza!” he said, relief washing over his features, “Mm, pepperoni,” he said, pulling the microwave door. “Delicious.”
You laughed. “Alright,” you said, “Why don’t you think that over, and maybe let me know if you, I dunno,” you said, “want to redecorate any time, eh?”
Author’s Note: This was also supposed to be a drabble… I am known for going above and beyond. The prompt was “I needed someone… And you were the only one I thought of.” I made up a cousin/family members for Clint. As always in my fics, Clint’s wife and kids do not exist in this.
Makeup scrubbed off, freshly showered,
hair pulled up, pajamas on. Your bed was calling your name, and as far as you
were concerned, nothing was going to pull you away from it. You had just laid
down, pulled the covers over your body, and found a comfortable position when
you heard your cell phone’s text alert sound go off. You groaned, tempted to
ignore it, but it went off twice more almost immediately afterwards. You
figured that if it was an emergency, whoever it was would have called you
rather than texted… But then again, who would text you three times in a row
when it was almost midnight? Your curiosity got the better of you, and you
found yourself rolling over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You smiled
when you saw the messages were from “Merida.” You had a fierce love for all
things Disney, and maybe a little crush on a certain archer friend of yours, so
that was what Clint’s number was saved as in your contacts. You quickly
scrolled through his most recent texts to you.
I NEED YOUR HELP ASAP –Clint
well… It’s not really an emergency but I would appreciate your help –Clint
Sam x Reader Warnings: mild language, sexy smut time with Sammy (you can skip this section if you like! It is delineated by “xx” before and after!)
Requested by naughty-wincest-lover A/N: *fans self* You guys. I hope you like this.
Summary: Y/N works in a flower shop and helps Sam out when he comes in asking about something related to a case. Y/N is plus size and a little self-conscious about it, but Sam doesn’t care at all. Things quickly heat up…
Dean let out a delighted chuckle at his brother’s incredulous face.
”You always throw scissors!” Sam said.
”And you shouldn’t have pointed that out. It made it almost too easy to win,” Dean said with a smirk, examining his fingernails and shining his fist on his jacket.
”Once, just once I would like to get to canvas at the local bar,” Sam complained as they walked towards the Impala.
“Heh heh heh,” Dean laughed mockingly, a spring in his step. He placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and looked at him with a smug expression. “Maybe someday, Sammy. But that day… is not today. Bar for me. Flower shop for you.”
Sam rolled his eyes and climbed into the passenger side, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.
”Oh, and don’t forget to take those petals with you. Whoever did this had to buy those flowers somewhere,” Dean added as he turned the key in the ignition.
”Yeah, yeah. I’ve got the stupid petals,” Sam mumbled, staring out the window.