pasta strainer

How to: Making moon water

Hello friends, it is I and I am here for yet another “How to”. This time I will show you how to make moon water. Moon water is a must have for me in my craft. My craft revolves heavily around the moon and almost all of my energy comes from her (the moon, cause she is my babe). Moon water is specially charged water that has a lot of magickal energy. It can be used to clean crystals, used in spells, you can put a little in a bath for an extra boost of energy, you can even drink a little bit to get re-energized, or put some in a spray bottle and use to cleanse a room. Moon water is good for everything! This post will teach you the steps in how to make it. The way that I will show you is not the ONLY way, but it is my way, that I want to share will you all.

Step #1:
Find a jar (witches love jars) preferably a glass jar. You really shouldn’t use plastic cups because the chemicals in the plastic will fuck up the energy of the moon war. I always use a VERY large mason jar because the more water you can make the better. Also the mason jar is easy to store and they are super cheap, you can literally get the anywhere. WITCH TIP! You can go to goodwill and find a SHIT TON of nice ass jars and glass containers for like $2 each. Just make sure you clean them well when you get home, also check and make sure they don’t have any cracks.

Step #2:
Fill your jar with water, spring, filtered, distilled or tap water. I own one of the refrigerators will the thing on the door that filters water, so I always just use the water from there. I personally never like to use tap water because it normally has a lot of chemicals in it, but if that’s all you have then that is fine!

Step #3 (OPTIONAL):
Okay so this step is optional, but sometimes I like to do this if I have a specific purpose for the moon water. Sometime I put herbs/plants/fruit in the water to infuse the water with the magickal qualities of that herbs/plant/fruit. BUT if you are planning on drinking the water be careful with what you put in it. Some herbs/plants/fruits are POSIONOUS! If you want to know what the magickal quality of a specific herbs/plants/fruits then you can check out my other post on my blog that list all of that for you!

Step #4:
Bless and cleanse the water with incense (Personally I use sage). I cleanse the water by letting the smoke of the incense engulf the container. When I do this I really focus my intent of wanting powerful, energizing moon water.

Step #5:
I consecrate the water by holding my hands over the jar and focusing my energy into the water. If you are a beginner and it is hard for you to focus your energy I would try repeating a saying over and over. You can say something like “Let this moon water be free of impurities and full on positive energy”. It does not have to be those exact words, but just remember to speak from the heart.

Step #6:
Leave the water out side on the night of the full moon. Preferably try to not leave the jar in a place where it is covered by trees and shade. Then just let it sit outside and soak up all of the energy. Then that’s it you are done! The next day go collect your water and be on your mary way UNLESS you did step #3. If you did step #3 then you have to continue to step #7 (sorry, not sorry).

Step #7:
Okay, so you put the herbs/plants/fruit in the moon water. Now you have to fish it out of the moon water. I suggest straining the water with a pasta strainer. Or if you only had big pieces of fruit you can just scoop them out with a spoon. Then that’s it and now you are done!

I hope this helped you guys a lot, please message me if you have any questions I am more than happy to help! Happy witching and I wish you all the best <3

-Tsuki (The gay green witch)

Cheeseball Cake

Ever wondered how you too can make a cake with cheeseballs on it?

I mean, no, you probably didn’t, because a) who thinks of these things and b) it’s pretty obvious that you can just…get a cake and put cheeseballs on it. But never fear! Just in case you wanna do things the hard way, I’ve got a recipe for how to make your own!

I love baking and wanted to make something cool to bring to my friend’s house for when we watch the Wanted special together, but I’ve already made most of the obvious choices.

And then I decided. Remember when the most bizarre Gem Fusion we’d seen was Alexandrite? Steven was making a CHEESEBALL CAKE while on the phone with Connie planning the dinner with her parents.

So I’m doing it.

The thing is, you can honestly use ANY cake recipe, and the cake is essentially yellow cake with vanilla frosting, so this is basically going to turn into a basic baking lesson. But follow along!


Three round 9-inch cake pans, a small bowl and a large bowl, a fork, and measuring cups. Hand mixer optional. And you might want to have some wire racks for cooling.


You will need flour, baking powder, salt, butter, sugar, vanilla extract, eggs, and milk.

If you hate yourself and want to make your own frosting (more on this later), you will need something to pipe frosting, an icing knife, slightly more butter, and some powdered sugar.

And let’s not forget the most important ingredient.



First, let’s make the cake. You will want to grease and flour three round 9-inch cake pans.

If you don’t know what that means, it means you spread shortening or butter very thinly into the pan (the sides too), then sprinkle flour in and tilt it around over the sink or a bin until the surface is coated. 

Do not skip this. Your cakes need to slide out of the pans after they cook, and if you don’t grease and flour, they WILL stick.

Next, mix dry ingredients together in a small bowl.

☆ Flour: 2½ cups / 11.25 ounces

☆ Baking powder: 2½ teaspoons / .3 ounce

☆ Salt: ½ teaspoon / .1 ounce

Set that aside and get a larger bowl. Next you’ll need these:

☆ Unsalted butter: 2/3 cup / 10.5 tablespoons / 5.5 ounces

☆ Sugar: 1¾ cups / 12 ounces

☆ Vanilla extract: 1½ teaspoons / .25 fluid ounce

Mix the butter. 

Whip it until it’s fluffy and add in the sugar and the vanilla extract.

You can use a mixer, but a hand mixer isn’t recommended after fluffing the butter because the mix is thick. Use a fork to whip it once the sugar goes in.

Add two large eggs, mixing the first in before adding the second.

Then you’ll be adding the dry mixture you set aside ALTERNATELY with milk.

☆ Whole milk: 1.25 cups / 10.5 fluid ounces

This means you add a little dry mix, mix it completely in, and then add some milk and mix THAT completely in. Then a little more dry, and a little more milk, until it looks creamy.

It should be thick and not runny, but thin enough to pour.

Distribute it evenly into three pans. You can use the back of a measuring cup to spread it in smoothly–you want it flat when it bakes, so if you spread it AWAY from the center toward the edges, it will bake flatter.

Preheat your oven to 375° Fahrenheit / 190° Celcius / Gas mark 5. Put the cakes on a center rack and bake for about 30 minutes. (Check at 25 to make sure they aren’t burning.)

Now, while they’re baking, you could make the frosting, or just do your dishes and clean up your mess, you slob. Don’t lick the batter bowl. Raw eggs can hurt you. It’s rare but it’s not just an urban legend and I know someone it happened to.

When the cakes are done, turn them onto wire racks to cool. If you are a lucky little butt they will slide right out, but you may have to run a knife around the edges.

Do not leave these cakes where they may be disturbed by pets, bugs, or evil siblings.


Now. I will say here that you probably don’t want to make your own frosting. Seriously, it is a pain. Just buy a freaking can of frosting. Steven’s cake looks like plain white icing, so unless you are vegan/have food sensitivities or you need to flavor it, making frosting at home is unnecessary and it’s lots of work for little payoff. There is no reason to make your own unless you want to hate your life.

Like me.


☆ Butter: 1/3 cup / .33 cup / 5.33 tablespoons/ 2.7 ounces

☆ Powdered sugar / Confectioner’s sugar: 4½ cups / 20.5 ounces

☆ Whole milk: ¼ cup / 2.1 fluid ounces

☆ Vanilla extract: 1¼ teaspoons / .26 fluid ounces


Beat the butter until it’s fluffy.

Then sift the sugar into the butter.

Let me tell you something. Do NOT skip this step. Frosting with unsifted sugar is lumpy and gross. When I was a wee foolish baker who thought skipping steps was cool, I found this out. Don’t be me.

Just go buy frosting, seriously.

If the sugar measurement sounds like a lot, THAT’S BECAUSE IT IS. There is a HUGE amount of sugar in frosting. That’s practically all it is! You can use a specialized sifter–I have one, it was dirty–or just use a mesh pasta strainer. I recommend using a spoon to rub the sugar through instead of jiggling it. It’s WAY less messy. If static builds up, that’s normal!

Sift about half the sugar in, mix in the milk and vanilla, and then stir in the other half of the sugar.

It should be creamy and not runny. If it is too thick, you CAN add tiny amounts of milk to thin it, but think hard about whether you need to before you do. If it gets too runny YOU HAVE TO ADD MORE SUGAR AGAIN and you do NOT want that.

The option is always open to buy a can of dang frosting.

Finishing the cake:

Now. The moment of truth has come. DON’T RUIN IT BY TRYING TO FROST THE CAKE BEFORE IT IS COOL. It must be COMPLETELY COOL when you frost or the frosting will RUN. You do NOT want that. Refrigerate the cakes to be sure if you have to. I swear if one of you makes this and jumps the gun to frost too soon I WILL FIND YOU

Put a (COOLED) cake layer on its presentation plate. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but I wanna be like Steven.

Put a THIN layer of frosting. Just enough to taste good and stick it together with the next layer.

Now pipe some frosting right around the edge. If you have a pastry bag then use it, but you can actually do this with a plastic bag jammed with frosting and a corner cut off!

Then squiiiish the next layer on like a hamburger. You want frosting squeezing out like Steven’s.

Then repeat. Frost the second layer, pipe around the edges, and add layer three.

Now! If you notice on Steven’s, there is no frosting coating the top layer. There’s just a ring of frosting he appears to be sticking cheeseballs to. So you need to just do the frosting ring on top.


And then the fun part. Put cheeseballs on while you talk to your best friend on the phone about how your guardians are magic, not radioactive.

But I mean…are we done? Is this all?

We never find out. Steven never finishes his cake decoration.

But it cannot be JUST A LONE CHEESEBALL, can it????

I decorated mine assuming I know where he might’ve been going with this.

If the snack sushi with cheese puffs and the together breakfast with popcorn are any indication, this will taste way better than people anticipate it will.

Guess my friend and I will find out!


Match Maker

Prompt from theycallmebecca ! Chris became a dad at age 25. He is the guardian of his 10 year old daughter (for what reasons I dunno). His daughter decides he needs a wife so she starts some sort of match making for him. Online dating profile? Trying to hook him up with her favorite teacher?

So I have no idea how long this will be, but Mckenna is going to be my face claim and I hope you enjoy it Becca <3

Tags: @theycallmebecca @iwillbeinmynest @whostheblondegirl

Chris smiles as he watches Lily color in her coloring book, his 10 year old mini me smiling and humming to herself while he makes some pasta. She’s everything he could have asked for- smart, silly, independant, and so strong. Though her mom passed in childbirth, she’s never complained about being motherless. She was always so grateful, so understanding and kind, and he couldn’t be happier.

Keep reading

cooking show idea:

Chefs are given a recipe and a certain amount of time to prepare it, but they have to do it in a college student’s kitchen with only the ingredients and tools currently in the kitchen.  The students who live there serve as assistant chefs.  Not only would you have some classic cooking show ingredient work arounds (using instant ramen powder instead of chicken broth, etc), but you would have GREAT conversations between the chefs and the college students, like:

“You don’t have any eggs???”

“Well, it’s Hannah’s turn to buy eggs, but she doesn’t have a car, so she keeps saying I should just buy them and she’ll pay me back, but she NEVER pays me back-”

“A carton of eggs is two dollars!!!”



“Now pass me the pasta strainer-”

“Oh, we don’t have one.”

“What do you mean??? All you eat is pasta!!!”

“Yeah, we just sorta pick the noodles out with a fork.”

But honestly the best conversations would be about the weird things that the students DO have in their kitchen, like:

“Okay, this recipe calls for parsnips, but carrots will work just as well, and I can probably make it work with broccoli-”

“Oh, we have parsnips.”

“You have parsnips??? But not eggs??”


In conclusion this would be a great show @Food Network please produce this


dirkjohn au where john accidentally finds dirks robot/sword/horse asmr channel and proceeds to donate to his patreon just so he can tell dirk to make more and more outlandish videos

holy SHIT. 

john keeps upping the ante to like horrifically large monthly donations just so he can make dirk do shit like. take two frying pans and rub them against each other slowly. NOT BANG THEM. just rub them. or to just pour an entire bottle of fabric softener into a pasta strainer. john uses a fake name so dirk is one HUNDRED percent sure that this is just some rando with a reeeallllyyyy specific fetish but, hey, he’s not one to judge or say no to money. meanwhile john is laughing his ass off


*** This was a cute request. 😊 This Years love is a great song and you should check it out if you’ve never heard it. ***

“Chibs stop!” You laughed and struggled to get your hands out of his grip to protect your face but he was much stronger than you and held you powerless as he smeared the tomato sauce on your cheek. He laughed as you pulled away and wiped it off, wiping it in his forehead. His face went completely serious then and he looked at you with mock anger. “Hey now.” You giggled and reached across the counter to grab a paper towel to clean up, his hands settling in your hips.

He pressed against you and rested his chin on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear. “You made a mess lass.” A sarcastic snort left your nose and you turned around in his arms, wiping the sauce off of his face and yours. “Me? I would’ve had dinner done already if you hadn’t come in here causing trouble.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly before pulling back and nodding. “Aye. That’s fair.”

Turning back to the stove, you went back to stirring around the pasta in the water the way you were when he had gotten home and helped you start cooking before distracting you by making a mess, Chibs disappearing to the living room. While you complained, you actually loved his playfulness and it was one of your favorite things about him and he knew it. He was older than you but you made up for that with you’re wisdom and old soul while he compensated by constantly pulling pranks and being childish with you.

Today however, he’d been excessively happy and playful from the moment he’d come home and what should’ve been a 30 minute dinner prep was already going on an hour. Suddenly you heard music playing through the house and began nodding to the beat, your Old Man coming up behind you again. “I like this song.” “I know you do my love.” He wrapped his arms around you again but this time let you continue cooking, simply watching you quietly until you broke the silence.

“How was your day?” “It was fine. Jackie’s trying to get us out of this Galindo shite. It’s not easy but he says he think they’ll let us go after our next muling.” You nodded and moved to the sink, dumping the pasta into the strainer before tossing it into the sauce and meatballs in the pot on the stove. As you began stirring it around, Chibs reached over and pulled the spoon from your hand, setting it down on the counter and pulling you into his arms as This Year’s Love came on.

You melted into his arms and let him hold you, a warm smile on his face as he looked down at you in adoration. Being in the club wasn’t easy even for him at times so he could imagine the stress you felt and yet you always had nothing but love and support for him, a clean house and a warm meal. The love you two had was real and these moments were his favorite. He loved his brothers but being somewhere with only you, the look of pure love in your eyes as you looked up at him, nothing could beat it.

He placed one hand on your lower back and held your hand as he swayed slowly around the kitchen with you, your head falling forward to rest against his chest. Tranquillity was in the air as you danced. Time seemed to have stopped and you danced in each others arms, his lips pressed against your hair, leaving kisses every now and then. Your eyes were closed and you breathed in the scent of his cologne, relaxation coming over you. You took another breath and wrinkled your nose at the sudden sour smell, your eyes widening as Chibs cursed and pulled away from you, running over to the stove where the pasta was smoking, charring in the bottom of the pan.

He quickly pulled it off the burner on the stove and poured water in it while you grabbed the kitchen towel, waving it at the smoke detector as it went off. Once you got it to turn off, you turned and saw Chibs poking around in the pan, trying to see if any of it was salvageable. Not finding any and facing you again, he shrugged and frowned. “Pizza?”

Today's Cultural Education
  • Me: [looking at school menu] "Today they're serving pasta. Do either of you want that for lunch?"
  • Luke: [age 11] "Sure, I'll have that."
  • Beth: [age 7] "Oh yeah. I loooove pasta!"
  • Me: "Maybe you're Pastafarian."
  • Luke: "Pasta what?"
  • Me: "Pastafarian. You've never heard that before?"
  • Beth: "What the heck is that?"
  • Me: "It's a made-up religion for people who are trying to make fun of other religions like Christianity or Islam. Pastafarians wear pasta strainers on their heads and worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster."
  • Luke: "Are you serious?!"
  • Beth: "What's a pasta strainer?"
  • Luke: [to Beth] "You know, a colander?"
  • Me: [gets out pasta strainer and puts it on my head] "Like this. They wear this on their heads for drivers license pictures and any other time they want to make a point about religion."
  • Beth: "That's really strange, Dad."
  • Me: [gets out smartphone, types 'pasta' into Google] "Here, look. All I have to do is type in 'pasta' and the fourth suggestion from Google is 'Pastafarian'. Or try this...." [types 'flying'] "...if I type 'flying', the third suggestion is 'Flying Spaghetti Monster'." [submits search, pulls up images]
  • Luke: "THAT'S the Flying Spaghetti Monster?!"
  • Beth: "Oh my gosh."
  • Me: [in a preacher's tone] "Have you been touched by His Noodly Appendage?"
  • Luke: "His noodly what?!"
  • Me: "Appendage. Like a tentacle."
  • Beth: "I can't believe people do this."
  • Luke: "I can't believe Dad knows about this."
  • Me: "This concludes today's cultural education."
  • Beth: "What will we learn about tomorrow? Is there a religion about chocolate?"
  • Me: "Yeah. We call it America."
The signs as things my Alaskan friend has texted me
  • Taurus: "Do you ever think about how weird necks are"
  • Gemini: "go watch all their videos immediately or I will never smell again"
  • Cancer: a picture of him making out with a crucifix
  • Leo: "apparently I won the geography bee at school. So now I have to bee in it."
  • Virgo: "I wrote you this card in fifth grade: "slipping propofol in your pizza, slipping propofol in your pizza". I didn't know."
  • Libra: "I'm now wearing a pasta strainer to scool"
  • Scorpio: "if God exists it's Andy Biersack"
  • Sagittarius: A fanfic about the girl I liked and shrek
  • Capricorn: "some people have the mutual interest of dick"
  • Aquarius: "I made a homophobe cry today because "I'm not respecting their beliefs and I'm a missionary from Satan to turn them from their faith"'
  • Pisces: "I just got a virus on my computer from looking up dank memes"
Only If For A Night [Pt. 2]

Hi all, so I’ve finished Part 2 (a lot earlier than I expected tbh and here is the link to pt. 1: and this one focuses a lot more on Stefan’s pain and emphasizes the angst and the connection between Stefan and Elena and what it means. I wanted to contrast fluff with heartbreak this time and raise the stakes so hopefully I did that and hopefully you all enjoy it because I did have a lot of fun writing this and I really like giving you guys things to read that you find interesting so here we go, people to tag: @thewitchandlonerdiaries @stefan4president @theeverlarkfamily @stefan-is-too-sexy-for-you @savagetore @emjo029 @demetrias-stelena @melissasbamonromantictales @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @christinaelena-1 @stelena-forever-and-always @stelenamagic @stelena-lover-forever @youareatypo @everythingdobsley @tvtaughtmehowtofeel @fiftyshadesofstelena @nor-20 @girlmeetsbamonsdescendants @denisa-diana @1000-to-1 @tea-moonn @sunnydrive92

And I heard your voice
As clear as day
And you told me I should concentrate
It was all so strange
And so surreal
That a ghost should be so practical
Only if for a night

– Florence & the Machine, Only If For A Night

The pain was constant. It didn’t come in waves. His body never gave up fighting, never tired into acceptance that he was in fact drowning, never allowed him to drift away into death. No, instead Stefan struggled to break free of the lock box, shaking his head frantically, coughing and inhaling at the same time, snorting in water that blocked his nostrils, gasping in water that flooded his airway. He banged his fists against the metal, cutting open his knuckles; his arms were cramped and sore, his legs were stiff from being unable to move them, his chest was heavy from the feeling like it was going to cave in or combust. Agony was his state of being. Agony was beginning to drive him mad; he could feel it. Feel his mind begin to splinter, fragment into oblivion. And he wanted to let it; he wanted to give up fighting so desperately so he could find some sort of peace in insanity. But every time he tried he instantly remembered when he’d yearned for the same defeat two years earlier. Every time he tried, he instantly heard her voice echo in his head, reverberate through his chest:

           You can fight it, you just have to want it bad enough.

           Why? Because I love you?

           That’s right, Stefan, because you love me. You’ll fight because after everything we’ve been through, you owe me that!

           He couldn’t. He couldn’t stop waiting. He couldn’t disappoint her like that, he couldn’t disappoint himself like that. He’d have to hold on.

           More water.

           Stefan felt like his entire body was on the verge of shattering and yet would never actually break; his throat was swollen and raw. He had to do something other than struggle. He had to do something other than drown. And even though it took everything he had in him, even though it felt like he was wringing his very brain painfully tight, Stefan squeezed his eyes shut and forced his mind into a different place, a different time.

           The Salvatore Manor. His manor. His kitchen.

           There was steam everywhere. The smell of garlic and onions. The sizzling of ground beef. The innocuous bubbling of boiling water. Copper pots. Copper frying pans. A wine bottle. A wine glass. Music in the background. Stefan was in front of the stove, moving quickly but gracefully, stirring here, seasoning there. He picked up a spoon and dipped it in the largest pot, moving it upward toward his mouth and then —

           Darkness. He couldn’t see. The feel of a palm against his eyes. He grinned.

           “This is how accidents happen.”

           “C’mon, Stefan. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this kitchen. Don’t you trust me?”

           “The words ‘Elena Gilbert’ and ‘kitchen’ don’t exactly inspire confidence.”


           Elena moved her hand away from Stefan’s eyes and he craned his neck back to see her head rested on his shoulder; his grin widened as she slipped her arms around his middle.

           “What’re you cooking anyway?” she said. “It smells incredible.”

           “Spaghetti Bolognese. A Salvatore Family recipe. I’m just worried that the sauce doesn’t have enough garlic.”

           Elena put her hand on Stefan’s and moved his wrist so that he guided the spoon into her mouth.

           “Mm,” she groaned as she sampled the sauce. “Tastes perfectly good to me.”

           “You could be lying.”

           Elena leaned forward and kissed Stefan hard on the mouth, her hand on the back of his head; she grinned at the surprised moan in his throat and pulled away.

           “There. You tasted it. What do you think? Enough garlic?”

           “You know,” said Stefan. “I don’t think I could tell just from that.”

           And Stefan kissed her again, causing Elena to giggle. He dropped the spoon onto the counter and put his hand on the side of her face, turning around completely to intensify their embrace. Elena stood on tiptoe, running her fingers through his hair and Stefan began guiding her to the counter on the wall opposite the oven so that her back bumped against it. He held her tightly, smiling at the taste of his sauce, the taste of her lips on his tongue.

           Whoosh. Hiss. Sizzle.

           Stefan broke away and looked behind him to the stove. The pot with the spaghetti was overflowing. He rushed back over and lifted it off the burner, draining the pasta in the strainer.

           “You’re distracting me. You can’t be in the kitchen,” he said.

           “But I like watching you cook.”

           “Then you have to watch. Stay there.”

           “But I can’t see from over here. Let me help.”

           “Remember the last time?”

           “The fire extinguisher was right there! Come on, I can do something.”

           Stefan turned his head to look at her, she looked back.

           “Fine. Come here.”

           Elena grinned and skipped over to the counter by the stove.

           “You can start on dessert. Work the dough with your hands.”

           Elena shifted over to the sink and rinsed her hands beneath the faucet, wiping them off on a tea towel, and then she dug her hands into the silver bowl in front of her, kneading the dough.

           “Like this?”

           Stefan glanced over to what she was doing then turned the heat down on all of the burners and moved from the stove to the counter. He stood behind Elena, his front pressed against her back and he put his hands in the bowl with hers, their fingers entwining as they both massaged the dough. After a while, Elena hooked some on her index finger then turned around slightly to smear it beneath Stefan’s nose, giving him a moustache.

           “There,” she said, barely containing her laughter. “Much better. You look so much more sophisticated with a moustache.”

           Stefan stared seriously at her for a minute and then abruptly grabbed fistfuls of dough and slathered it in her hair.

           Laughing, he used his speed to zoom away from her as Elena reached for the cutting board and hurtled diced onions and tomatoes and parsley at him by the handful. Quickly, she opened the fridge, taking out a bottle of Heinz and raced toward Stefan, squeezing all of the ketchup onto his head. Stefan retaliated by grabbing clumps of the spaghetti and throwing it at her. They continued to run around the kitchen, their bodies a blur of speed, chucking fruits at each other, spraying condiments on one another, dumping juices and sodas on each other until they were grimed and slicked with food. Breathless and exhilarated, Elena hid behind the breakfast counter, stooped low as Stefan stood in the kitchen.

           “Surrender!” he said.

           “Why should I have to surrender? You surrender!”

           “I don’t want to!”

           “Neither do I!”

“OK how about no one surrenders. How about a truce?”

           A pause.

           “Agreed,” said Stefan.

           “So if I come out, that means you can’t throw anything!”

           “I won’t.”


           “How could you even ask that, you trust me, right?”

           Elena pushed her mouth to the side. “OK I’m coming out!”

           Before she could fully stand up, Stefan was at her side. They gazed at each other for a minute, smiling widely, and then Stefan lunged forward and kissed her. Elena threw her arms around his neck in response.

           “Dinner’s ruined,” she said between kisses.

           “That’s why they invented pizza delivery,” said Stefan.

           Elena kissed him deeply then pulled back. “Feel so gross. I need a shower.”

           “Love it,” said Stefan. He picked her up without warning, making her cry out in surprise. “Let’s go.”

           Stefan felt his body move, felt it speed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. And yet he was stuck. Yet he, his presence, his mind, didn’t go along with his body but stayed where it was —

           It was like the earth turned on its axis. For a brief second everything was beyond space, beyond time, or maybe between it. Stefan felt weightless. Then cold. Then bodiless.

           Suddenly, everything clicked back but he was no longer in the Salvatore Mansion; he was no longer in a living memory. He was in a … motel room? But he wasn’t really there, everything was grey and muted and removed. This was purgatory. This was death. He’d finally died. And that meant —

           There was the sound of a key turning in a lock and Elena walked into the room, her cell phone between her ear and shoulder.

           Everything within Stefan shifted. He was nervous yet relieved, calm but excited; like always, the sight of Elena anchored Stefan yet sent him into a free-fall and he moved to rush over to her, to hug her, to kiss her, but then re-remembered that he couldn’t and suffered excruciating disappointment that devoured him; consumed him with sadness. He suffered through this cycle every time he died, every time he saw her because holding Elena had become more than a habit to Stefan, it’d become instinct, and instinct was something that could seldom ever be unlearned if at all.  

           “I didn’t find anything here. What about you?” Elena walked further into the room, tossing the keys onto a tiny nightstand table. “Well, did you find anymore leads when you were there?”

           Elena nearly brushed Stefan’s shoulder as she paced the length of the room and Stefan took a deep breath in as she passed him, feeling only the tension of a near-touch that suffocated him with longing. His entire body screamed with it — longing, desire, screamed with desperation for her to know that he was there, for her to know how unbearable it was to not be able to feel her, for her to know how painful it was to see her in pain and that if he could, he’d have cured her of that pain in an instant, cured her of her want for him.    

“OK well I’ll get the next flight out to South Carolina and then you and I — yes, I am coming, Damon. Are you giving up on looking for him?” Elena paused and then whirled around in frustration so that her back was facing Stefan. “So then why should I? You’re not the only one entitled to finding him! You’re not the only one who loves him!” She stood where she was, clenching her hair in her free hand. “How can you talk to me about school right now? You didn’t care about me going to school when you thought I’d be spending the entire summer with y — of course I want a regular college life but I won’t be able to have one if Stefan isn’t back!”

Stefan walked toward Elena, an expression of sheer anguish contorting his face. He stood directly behind her as he’d done in the kitchen all those months ago and slowly, he moved his hands across her shoulders, sliding them down her arms, wanting nothing more than to soothe her. Elena arched her back and quickly reached around with her free hand, spinning on the spot only to come face to face with nothing.

“But I felt …” she whispered. Then she shook her head and spoke into the phone. “Nothing, Damon. I’m just talking to myself. Look, it isn’t about whether or not I trust you, it’s about — Damon, I am not waiting on you to bring him back to me, if we’re both looking there’s a better chance of him being found, this isn’t up for discussion.”

It was cruel that Stefan could feel the panic in Elena’s words, feel it so deeply that her anxiety trilled in his veins but he was unable to experience her body next to his, she was unable to know just how much he wanted to trail his thumb across her bottom lip. His eyes were red with unshed tears, his forehead creased. He had to do it. He had to try. Like every time he saw her.

Stefan reached forward and then —

That familiar hook behind his navel. No. No. This wasn’t enough time! He’d barely been here five minutes! This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t ready! NO! NO! NO! Stefan looked around frantically, as if there were a door or a passage he could escape through so he wouldn’t have to return, so he wouldn’t have to leave. He couldn’t go back!

“No!” he yelled as he felt himself lose grips, lose his hold on his purgatory. “NO! I’M NOT READY TO GO! NO!”

Elena flinched.


Elena flinched and looked frantically around the motel room. She’d heard it. Not an echo but almost. There were traces of it bouncing off the walls. And it felt like Stefan. She’d be afraid that she was going crazy if she wasn’t so sure, if she didn’t know without a doubt what Stefan’s presence felt like, if she didn’t have such resolute hope, such stubborn faith that Stefan would hold on, that he would trust her to find him.  

“Damon, I’ll call you back.”

She hung up the phone and dialled Bonnie’s number immediately afterward.  The other end picked up.


“Bonnie? Hi. How are you? How’s Jer? Is everyone OK?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Worried about you. Caroline wants me to let you know that registration is on Monday.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Elena. “Listen. I need to ask you a question. A magic question.”

“Uh yeah. OK. Shoot.”

“Is it possible for me and Stefan to be linked somehow? Like is it possible that when I say I feel him, I’m literally feeling his pain? Or that he’s literally calling out to me and I can feel that call? That it’s not just an expression?”

“Well, Grams did talk about certain connections,” said Bonnie. “Like this is old magic, natural magic, beyond spells and incantations and it’s not love, it’s bigger than that. It’s life. When two people find life in each other, it’s a bond that’s able to transcend even space and time — it creates a sort of tether. It’s like the definition of a rare occurrence but it can happen. I mean, that’s what a soulmate is.” Bonnie paused. “And if any two people could find that, I believe it’d be you and Stefan.”

“I feel him, Bonnie,” said Elena quietly. “I swear, sometimes I feel like he’s in the room with me. Like he’s trying to … it’s like he’s touching me.”

“Elena, that sounds way too specific,” said Bonnie. “That sounds like … it sounds like me when I was on the Other Side. When I wanted to touch Jeremy. It sounds like Stefan’s —”

“He’s not dead, Bonnie,” said Elena emphatically. “I’m telling you, I’m not being delusional, I know he isn’t dead.”

“Maybe not permanently,” said Bonnie slowly, as if she were thinking her idea through as she said it. “Maybe he’s dying over and over again because he’s a vampire and … you two are tethered so his spirit goes wherever you go. He’s literally trying to touch you and call out to you, like you said.”

Elena held the phone to her ear, not speaking, as she contemplated the horror of that situation; the frantic need to find Stefan turning reckless in her.  


“OK,” said Elena. “OK, I have a plan. I need to pack, get ready for the drive home.”

“Wait, you’re leaving now?”

“Yes now. Right now!”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, what’s the plan?”

“Well, it really boils down to this,”  said Elena as she opened her travel bag and started shoving her clothes in it. “I’m going to die.”

a1y-puff  asked:

EDM RP verse. They fight (again) and it's Kanda's fault somehow (feel free to elaborate). He ends up kissing allen senseless at the end of the day an Allen's like NOT FAIR coz then he can't stay mad. :'D

HAHAH OF COURSE <3 hopefully we’ll be able to use this one too! This was ridiculously fun to write. I swear these two fight like an old married couple

Kanda knew he’d fucked up. He knew and he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to fix it. Or maybe he was in the process of fixing it, but of course the arguing always came first. It was a theme with them, after all.

“But you still need to be careful!” Allen was checking over his hands, or to be more percise, he had grabbed his fucking hands and done a twice over–thrice over, now, to check for any still healing wounds. Which there weren’t any, because at this point Allen should have known how fast his healing was. He’d witnessed it how many times now?

“And I’m telling you I’m fine. See?” Kanda jerked his hands out of Allen’s grip and sighed, “It’s not like I do it all the fucking time!”

“But still!” Allen snapped, “I just saw you take out not one but two pans! And then you lifted a hot pot with your bare hands to dump pasta into the strainer! Without potholders! You know where they are–you bought new ones!” With little kitten faces all over both sides.

Kanda wanted to groan, but honestly Allen had a point Or would have, except–”They’re still drying.”


“They’re hanging over the dryer. Downstairs.” Kanda sighed, “Tim knocked over a glass earlier. They were still sitting out on the counter. So they needed to dry–”

“But that was over two hours ago!” Allen’s worried look turned to one of worry and annoyance and–oh hell. Kanda was digging himself even deeper. “Don’t tell me you picked up a hot pan–and pot–because you were lazy? I thought I was the lazy one!”

Kanda made a face. Okay he knew if he didn’t stop it that this would just get worse

So he did the only thing he could think of and leaned in for a kiss, landing one smack on Allen’s lips. And pressing–hard.

Okay so he added a little bit of tongue too, and sort of. Pressed him against the counter because he fucking could and Allen made this half-whine sort of noise that had Kanda grinning a little in relief–before finally Kanda pulled away. “I’m. Fine.” He reiterated. “My hands are fine. It’s okay.”

Allen opened his mouth and for a moment Kanda worried that it wasn’t enough, but then Allen leaned back against the counter and sighed, “You know, I really really should be mad at you still–or worried, but. You win. For now. But I will be watching you cook next time–especially when you’re putting stuff in the oven. And,” He tugged one of Kanda’s belt hoops, “I’m making sure we buy more pot holders, okay?”

Psychotic - Chapter Five ❧  Dylan O’Brien

Warnings: Minor descriptions of blood and gore

Chapter Five

The next day, Judith had spent the day sleeping in after spending the majority of her day yesterday with Dylan. She was exhausted and truthfully, she deserved some rest. But now, she was awakened by her phone. She sighed and flipped over, grabbing it off of the nightstand to look at it. After seeing the name on her phone and realizing who it was, she instantly perked up and quickly sat up to answer it.

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When I was in college I didn’t have enough money to afford a strainer so I would always strain my pasta with a pot lid or a plate or what have you and I got so used to doing it that way that even after I was in a more financially comfortable position, whenever I saw strainers at the store I’d just be like “well I don’t really NEED that right now”

But when I was sitting there in the middle of the night last week trying to strain my spongebob macaroni with a plate without losing it all in the sink I just kept thinking “dammit I am 27 years old why don’t I own a pasta strainer”