your mother's home cooking

No Love (M) | Part One

Long List of Warnings (trigger warnings)

Angst, Unfaithful Reader, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Slight Sexism, Social Issues, Child Abuse (non-sexual), Unhealthy Relationship Depiction, Unstable Reader, Slightly Manipulative Reader, Sex & stuff.

Disclaimer: Other Kpop artist/Fictional Characters are portrayed in this, this is not an accurate representation of their personality so please do NOT get offended.  

Word Count: 9.9k+

Description: After a two-year breakup with Yoongi, you suddenly run into him again at your boyfriend’s party. Drunk and alone, Yoongi passes out on you, and you convince Jiwon (your boyfiend) to let Yoongi stay over for the night without telling him about your history. Jiwon, who invited Yoongi as a business colleague, is willing. But little does he know that it will wreck havoc on your relationship. (Takes place the morning after this happens.)

Request:  “Hey could you do a daddy kink with Yoongi, please?”

A/N: You probably expected this to be a hot smut without any emotional roller coasters at all, didn’t you? Title is actually a song by Lyves that I listened to while writing the reader opening Yoongi’s present scene. - Admin Baby  

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Mother and daughter ( jughead X reader)

Jughead X Jughead X jellybean

Wordcount: 1472

Warning : NONE

Request : no, my idea.

A/N : okay so basically I was day dreaming today and this topic came to mind… random i know but, i have to say i love this!! I hope you guys do too! JEALLYBEAN BETTER COME SOON! I NEED TO SEE JUGHEAD AS BIG BROTHER!!!!!

As always, sorry for any spelling and grammar errors. :)


Originally posted by mallverine

Currently I sat in the kitchen of Jughead’s dad’s house. To say it was a dump is an understanding, considering FP has bottles everywhere… Jughead and I just came back from school, most of the time Jughead and I would go Pop’s after school but i suggested i cook for him and jellybean.

“ Why do you insist on cooking for JB and I, i could easily buy Us all something to eat.” Jughead asks with confusion laced in his voice.

“ Juggie, you and Jellybean don’t have home cooked meals ever since your mother left . Not to mention that FP is never around, and when he is, he’s drunk. So I’ve made it my priority that you and JB eat at least healthy.” I answer him while checking the oven to make sure i don’t over cook the chicken .

When i get up from my bent position and turn back to look at Jughead. I find Jughead giving me a small smile with a whisper of a “thank you.“ I smile back and return to making our food… suddenly the sound of the front door slamming open is heard, indicating that either FP or Jellybean have arrived. Seconds later a small figure of a young girl with raven hair like Jughead’s walks in with a look of sadness on her face.

“JB, what’s wrong?” Both Jughead and i ask together, but the only response we get is her handing us a white paper. I grab the paper and read over the words. “You’re invited to the mother and daughter day tomorrow! Wear your best dresses and dancing shoes.” Automatically it hits me like a ton of bricks, I look at Jughead and notice that a sad look has also taken over his face. Wanting to change the mood I say food is ready.

“ Well JB I made something that will turn that frown upside down, guess what I’ve made for us to eat.”

Jellybean looks at me and starts to guess the way i do during tests. “Is it Mac n Cheese, Pizza, spaghetti, salmon… WAIT, is it the roasted chicken with the potatoes under it?”

I nod my head and move to the oven to take out the chicken. I place it on the set table and start to give everyone their pieces. Jellybean now has a smile on her face as she munches away on her plate of chicken. “Y/N/N, can you cook for Juggie and I all the time? I like your cooking more than eating from a frozen box or Pop’s.”

“ If that’s what you want, i have no problem. Just tell me a day before what you want to eat, that way I can buy the things for the meal.”

An hour has passed and we’re all done eating. Jughead sent Jellybean to do her homework and i tell her that if she needs help that she should call me. Of course Jughead has to tell me that i don’t need to help her but she’s family to me.

“Y/N, what am i going to do? Jellybean should not have to worry about this, our mother should be here and take her. Don’t take this the wrong way Y/N/N, but my mom should be the one cooking for us and helping Jellybean, not you. If we were to be living together, just Jellybean, you and I, people would think we’re her parents. My dad doesn’t even bother to attend any of her parent meetings, school plays or even her soccer games! It’s always me and you.. Never Dad and mom.” He speaks with anger as he pulls off his beanie from his head from frustration.

“ Juggie, don’t worry about it. Besides i don’t mind being there for you guys, just like you’ve been there for me when my dad left me… You just gave me a plan, what if i acted as if I’m Jellybean’s mom? I could skip school tomorrow and go with her.”

“Y/N, you’ve never missed a day of school, and you shouldn’t have to feel like you have a responsibility to do this! You’re just a teenager, you shouldn’t have to worry about me or Jellybean.”

Ignore him and stick to my plan, i get up from where I’m sitting and look at Jughead dead in the eye and say “ i said You’re my family and I’m going tomorrow whether you like it or not. Don’t tell Jellybean.” I hug jughead and run to Jellybeans room to tell her I’m leaving, she hugs me and tells me good bye. I walk home and get ready for bed because tomorrow will be A long day

My clock shows 6:30 A.M. I get out of bed to do my business and start to look through my outfits to find the perfect dress. I end up grabbing a tiffany colored flowy dress with a pair a white ballerina shoes. I apply my makeup, which is very light and just stuff my outfit and things in a bag. I run down to my kitchen to grab some pancake mix with some eggs and put them in another bag. I run out my house and walk towards Jughead’s home, once I arrive I pull out the extra key that Jughead gave me and walk into the house. I walk to the kitchen and start to make our breakfast, I try to make very little sound but no matter how quiet I am Jughead will always find me.

“What are you doing (Y/N/N)? Jughead asks with a groggy voice.

“ nothing just thought I’d look at the stove, what does it look like?” i answer back with a hit of sarcasm.

Jughead laughs and tells me that he’s going to wake up Jellybean. Not 3 minutes later Jellybean is running towards me with full speed. “Y/N/N! You’re making us breakfast!”

I nod my head and turn back to the pancake on the stove and flip it before it burns. Soon all of us are eating on the table. Once we finish our food, i tell jellybean to get dressed in a dress and I’ll be there to do her hair soon. At first she’s confused but her face lights up as if i told her she’s getting a puppy. “Y/N are you taking me to school today, for the mother and daughter thing?!”

I tell her yes and she runs to me and hugs me as she cries.

“JB, don’t cry! Please, then you’ll make me cry and then I’ll mess up my makeup!” i joke as i rub her back trying to get her to calm down.

Jellybean pulls away and runs to her room as she starts to pick out her dress. I turn to Jughead and tell him i need to go change into my dress, he tells me to change in his room while he cleans the kitchen. When I’m done with getting ready I let my hair down and just leave it natural, i walk to Jellybean’s room and find her ready. I Fix her hair as promised.. It takes time since she wanted me to make her a fishtale braid, while i was doing her hair she starts to talk.

“ Y/N/N, Juggie always tells me that he likes you a lot.”

“ And I like him too JB, he’s my best friend.” Jellybean laughs and shakes her head.

“ No! He likes you, like he likes you, likes you.. He always says that if there was one girl he would marry it would be you… Don’t tell Juggie i told you.” After her words I feel like i might just faint…

“Well JB… Don’t tell Juggie i said this but I would marry him too..” Jellybean laughs and nods her head while making a zipper motion on her mouth. When I’m done with her hair we  then walk out to the living room. When Jughead see’s us he walks towards us and picks up Jellybean and pulls me into a hug.

“My two favorite girls look breath-taking.”

Jellybean laughs and tells Jughead what i just told her not to say.

“Thank you Juggie! You should marry Y/N/N like you said you would, Y/N/N said she would marry you too.”

Jughead and I both say at the the same time “ I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL.”

Jellybean mumbles a “ oops” and jumps out of Jughead’s grip and walks away, leaving Jughead and I alone. We both look at each other waiting for one of us to break the silence, Jughead then grabs my face so fast, that before i could even blink he pushes his lips firmly against mine. Suddenly Jeallybean shouts saying that we’re going to be late.

I pull away from Jughead and kiss his cheek quickly and utter “ at least now we know we like each other.”  I grab my purse and walk out the door with Jeallybean…


You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Heyy, if you’re up for it, can I request an imagine where Negan was coach before the apocalypse (your 18-19 now) and  he finds you by  the road, realising you were his student and he takes you back to the Sanctuary and is really protective of you?? Sorry if it’s too long, love your blog <3 – Via @maddiemoo16602

Ships: None
Words: 1,369
Warnings: Curses
Category: Angst with a dash of fluff


You were walking down a street of an abandoned town, dilapidated houses either side of you. You kept your eyes peeled for any sort of movement. You heard nothing except the winds rushing through broken windows and long absent streets.

Ivy crawled up the once neatly panelled houses like a parasite. The neatly trimmed lawns and flowers which may have once been well kept and colourful were now overgrown with weeds which had killed the beautiful roses and daisies that once bloomed there long ago.

Your stomach rumbled as it had been for the past week. You had eaten nothing but a dead rat and even then you only ate half of it, its milky eyes felt although it was staring at you from beyond the grave.

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Here’s a rebloggable masterlist which makes it easier for those who use the mobile app! (°◡°♡).:。

_________ Would Include…




Monsta X



GIF Reactions:




Monsta X



MTL (Most to Least):




Monsta X







Monsta X







Monsta X







Monsta X



Written Ships

Selca Ships

Astrology Ships

Chinese Zodiac Ships

MBTI Personality Type Ships





Monsta X







Monsta X



Originally posted by bisexualkevinday

The Red String (Bellamy Blake) 


Summary - According to the myth of the Red String, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the ankles of those that are destined to meet one another. 
On the ground, everything is different and the rules are non existent. In the midst of a war, this is how Bellamy Blake discovered that red string.

Word Count - 1.7k

“So, smart mouth,” Murphy announces, grabbing your attention as his lips turn up in a smirk, “you never told us why you were locked up.” He turns to you in his seat. You don’t face him. You just look down at the drop ship ground and furrow your eyebrows. Locked up. You’re considered a criminal here. You never thought you’d be in this situation.

 Life has never been hard for you, breezing through school with your mother’s handwritten notes in her old books. She was a caring soul - always kind and never hurtful. Everyone would talk about how beautiful she was and how much you resembled her when you were younger. The only thing different was your (Y/E/C) eyes. Hers were the opposite colour of yours. She became even more popular after your father was floated. Nobody would leave you alone. It was always “I am so sorry about your losses.” Or “Y/N, help your mother around the house!” Nobody knew that at that point you were the one running the house, cleaning up and cooking for your mother as soon as you got home from your classes. 

Soon after your father’s death, she lost her job along with her will to get out of bed in the morning. You guessed you weren’t enough for her. Even though you both hadn’t talked to these strangers in months, your mother appreciated every visit and kind words they brought with them. She never grew unkind or uncaring and her friendly soul never faulted. You still remember sitting on her bed with your hand in hers just talking about your day and she would always listen and never interrupt until you were finished. Then she would smile with her warm eyes and squeeze your hand gently.
 Over time, you learnt to cope with your father being dead and it got easier to not sugar coat it. You had friends who loved you with all their hearts and who you loved back like siblings. Though your mother never really got over it, you don’t think anybody could blame her. Murphy’s words float through your mind and your throat tightens as guilt travels through the pit of your stomach, making you extremely anxious. The memories of what had happened to get you imprisoned in the first place are deathly fresh inside your mind. You swallow hard, showing no emotion as you speak.

“I killed Bellamy Blake.”

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I had a dream about Seunghyun the other night…

He was home for his first extended leave from the military so anticipation was high. His mother held a get together at her house for his close friends and family so we met up there. During the entire shindig I could barely keep my hands to myself, placing light touches on his arm and back or holding his hand when no one was looking. I knew just how to push his buttons.

Dinner was served late because everyone was having a good time but eventually I sat across from Seunghyun. I decided to continue teasing thanks to the cover of the narrow table. We played footsies before I slowly started trailing north, starting with his calves and then thighs. His mother spoke to him right as he gave me a look that was a mix between ‘knock it off’ and ‘are you out of your mind??’ but I hid my amusement by eating his mother’s home cooked food and complimenting her. It was driving him nuts. Once the attention was off of him I started up again and this time I reached my destination. The moment my foot landed on his crotch he choked on his food and started coughing. His mother was asking him if everything was okay with the food so I started downing my wine to hide my laughter this time. After that I knew I shouldn’t press my luck any further since he gave me the same look as before, only this time with more fervor.

After dinner I helped his mother clean up while everyone else started filing out. When everyone was gone we shared one last glass of wine with his family before heading out ourselves. We took a taxi home since we’d both been drinking, and the tension was so thick even the driver was silent.

Once we were home and out of the taxi I immediately started apologizing. The time spent in the car made me think I’d taken things too far and that he was upset I was so disrespectful in his mother’s home. I tried to reason with myself that no one noticed so it was okay, plus we hadn’t seen each other in so long and I was desperate for his touch. We hadn’t even kissed since we met up at his mother’s house! Even still, knowing how reserved he is I apologized anyway, but he continued his silence.

After we were inside he slammed the door behind me and pinned me against the wall. I could barely register what was happening before his lips were on mine in a heated kiss. He lifted one of my legs and ground his erection against my clothed heat. Just as I was about to speak he beat me to the punch

“See what you’ve done to me with your endless teasing?”

I only nod in response, already feeling heated from the friction he’s causing, but he doesn’t let me enjoy it for long. He drops my leg and spins me around, pressing me up against the cold wall as his hands trail over my body.

“You naughty little vixen,” he chided as he pulled my dress over my hips and practically ripped off my flimsy underwear as he nibbled my earlobe. “I should make you beg for it,” he whispered and his deep voice rumbled all the way to my core. I was going to beg for it. I’d do anything for it, but then I heard the sound of his zipper and he continued “You’re lucky I can’t wait.” And the next moment he was inside me fucking me senseless.

By the end of it we were a sweaty, heaping mess on the floor, and just before I woke up I remember saying “welcome home” and hearing his laughter.

Stanford Surprise

Request: Could you do one where you like go to Stanford and stuff? Xx

Your name: submit What is this?

Getting acclimated to college was rather difficult when you decided to travel to a different country of school.  Even though Canada was just north of America, Leaving Toronto was challenging.  Especially when you were going to the west coast.

But once you made friends and got used to the amount of course work, college wasn’t too bad.  Although you missed your fair a lot.  It was the little things with them you missed; like sitting at home by the fire, seeing your dog get all excited when your father came home after a day in the office, or the smell of a home cooked meal by your mother.  

You also missed your boyfriend.  Even though Shawn wasn’t home often, due to his strict schedule as a musician, you missed him even more than you did when you lived back in Canada.  Because when he was on a break, he usually went back to Toronto to spend time with family.  And that was fine with you, you would rather have him see his family while he was on one of his short breaks.  But it didn’t stop you from missing him any more.

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Faith - AI // Ramadan Series

Originally posted by irwinsource

Word Count: 1557

In which Ashton bonds with your mother. 

Michael // Calum // Luke 

I just wanted to take a second to reach out to all my Muslim followers in particular with this series. And since I’ve posted the initial piece with Michael, I’ve gotten such an overwhelming positive response from you guys. I started this because I was looking for something I could identify with. 

That being said, I only have my own experiences to go on. I want this series to be an exposure to the culture and religion and community that I grew up around in. But culture and religion and community aren’t monolithic experiences. They’re all different. If there’s something you want to see in this series that I haven’t hit, please feel free to drop me a message or an ask. Tell me about your experiences, tell me about something you and your family do during Ramadan. I don’t want this series to just be my series. I want it to be ours.

Anyway, here goes nothing.

A peal of loud laughter startles you awake. You’re disoriented and it takes a second for you to realize you’re back in your childhood home, tucked beneath a thick, fuzzy blanket you’d pulled from the hall closet. A quick glance to the bedside table and you groan, ready to roll over and shove your head back beneath your pillow; 3:47 AM glares at you from the screen of your phone.

You’re almost back asleep, mind gone hazy and eyelids just sliding shut, when another laugh echoes through the quiet house. Growing up in an enormous, loud, extremely vocal and opinionated family has conditioned you to sleep through almost anything. But the second laugh, you realize, doesn’t belong to your mother. Nope. It belong to the six-foot-something, sandy haired Australian you’d left sleeping on the couch last night.

“Why the hell is he awake?” you grumble, tossing the blanket off your bare legs and settling your feet onto the bare floor. You take a second to tug a pair of leggings up your legs and slip into the hoodie you’d abandoned on the floor last night, leaving the hood up from where it catches on your haphazard bun.

The sight of Ashton, fully awake, sitting at the bar with his arms crossed in front surprises you. What doesn’t, though, is your mother. She’s always been an early riser, always up at the break of dawn for Fajr before she’s out the door, and Ramadan is no exception. She’s up and dressed, her hijab pinned neatly around her face and already kneading dough against the countertops.  No doubt she’s awake to make food for suhoor but you still pause at the landing to the stairs, confused.

She’s smiling across the counter at your boyfriend before gesturing at the dough beneath her hands. Ashton looks surprised for a moment, hazel eyes gone wide before he pretends to look around in confusion, like he can’t believe she’s talking to him. 

You’re close enough that you can hear their conversation when “I don’t want to ruin it!” slips past Ashton’s lips.

“Come here, I’ll show you.” She reaches over, tugs on the hem of his sleeve and pulls him around the counter. Ashton slides up beside her, towering over your tiny mother like the true Australian giant that he is.

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"Imagine falling asleep during the journey every night knowing Thorin would watch you sleep, to make sure you are always protected."

butttheavengers || imagine

Life on the road was harsh.  Despite traveling for two months now, there were still comforts that you missed – your soft mattress was on the top of the list.  Often, you had trouble falling asleep due to sharp sticks and rocks digging into your side.  You also missed your feather-pillows and the quilts that your mother stitched up for you.  You missed your mother’s home-cooked meals, your father’s booming laughter, and your brother’s snarky smile.

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Go and live in a country, far removed from your own. Don’t stay in one place, for the the whole of your days.
Learn another language - even if only the basics. Try. Choose a place that intrigues or terrifies you - a culture you know little about and move there. Pack for a year, even if you do not stay that long.

Speak to the people and bond with them. Even if only for a moment in time - by facial expression or mime, connect. Learn how to eat in this new land. What rituals are meant for which part of day. Learn how to greet; whether to shake hands, hug or kiss. Find what being alive means to them and how love is expressed.

Do not compare it to what you have known, do not belittle it because it is strange. Life will teach you that even strange, is relative. And you are equally as alien to those you find alien, as they are to you. But even strange, is life. And even there, there is love and laughter.

What greater adventure can there be, than to find this out? What greater beauty, for a heart to see? When humanity and kindness, transcends all barriers? Where learning a way, and teaching them yours, can bind?

When the shopkeeper demands that you must stay for tea, don’t leave. Accept. Drink with him in his market stall. Have dinner with your neighbours and sit with them on the floor. Pay attention. Observe how they eat and eat like them too. With your hands, with sticks or even a spoon.

And if it becomes too much for your heart to bare. If the strange soil conquers your body and makes you ill - leave. Don’t stay. Go home. Eat your mothers cooking. Sleep in the house you grew up in. See the doctor, who treated you as a child. Eat the food that grew your body this big, for a time.

And when you are better, and when you are well. And when you find yourself searching for the food of the places you’ve been. Or receiving strange looks from friends, for the new habits you’ve brought with you home. Pick up your map and try again.

No experience is a waste. However short or difficult. You may not see the change, while it is happening. But you will change, nevertheless. But do not travel, intending to save the world. Do not presume, your way is the best way of all. Be open, be willing. Life has much to teach you still.

—  all this world awaiting, fgabdon

anonymous asked:

What do you think of people who aren't feminists?

it depends, if i asked somebody in casual conversation if they were a feminist and they weren’t, my opinion of them would be entirely conditional based on how they phrased it

in short summary: i think there’s a big difference between saying “i’m not a feminist” and “i’m anti-feminist”, and the former is much more understandable than the latter for me personally

in long ramble:

saying “i’m not a feminist” usually either means one of two things:

the first, that there’s been a misunderstanding of feminism somewhere down the line either due to being misinformed or due to previous misunderstandings of feminism by awful people who are, regrettably, generally the most vocal and who receive the most attention, which isn’t actually really an error by the person saying “i’m not a feminist”, because they’re basing their perceptions on experience which is just what everybody does

the second, that the person saying “i’m not a feminist” is a person of colour whose voice has been disregarded or spoken over by white feminists, or a disabled person who has to constantly fight against ableism and expects, rightfully, that the feminist movement as a whole would make some attempt to help with that, only to be met with even more ableism from people within the movement or even just being straight up silenced and shoved to the side, or trans women who can’t even exist without constantly being harassed just for daring to be who the fuck they are- all of those people are pretty much entitled to say “i’m not a feminist” because they’ve been screwed by the movement and shouldn’t have to force themselves into social circles or events that don’t accommodate for them

now, i’m white, incredibly so, and am so probably guilty of speaking over or disregarding the voices of people of colour tbh, like, i could even say exactly the same thing as a person of colour and be seen more favourably just because i’m white, so the point about people of colour’s voices being spoken over is not based on my personal experience- it’s what i’ve seen people of colour say over and over, and i’m just boosting it because as a white feminist that should be my job

but i am disabled, and trans, and i’ve met with so much ableism and transphobia/transmisogyny from within feminist circles- and people say it’s only radical feminists who say and do those things but it isn’t, liberal and intersectional feminists are just as guilty- so it has been frequently difficult for me to identify with the name because it shouldn’t be my daily duty to sit through general cissexism because i haven’t physically transitioned yet (and though i want to, i don’t think people should have to if they don’t personally want to, you can know yourself to be a different gender to how you were assigned at birth and not currently desire a physical change, whatever, it’s cool) or being patronised or mocked because i’m autistic, but at the end of the day there are goals of feminism that haven’t been met yet and i can’t very well stop being a feminist until they have been

now, to move on to the concept of saying “i’m anti-feminist”

this is a term almost exclusively spouted by total shitlords, who spend more time harassing teenagers online for having the word “feminist” in their bio than any feminist actually devotes to any cause, and who will probably send similar messages to me for answering this question

the term intrinsically implies that the person saying it is completely opposed to any and all goals of feminism, and if it’s a woman saying it, it’s usually a woman whose life has already been bettered and improved by the feminists of the past and present- sort of like if you came home, ate dinner that your mother cooked for you, then said “i’m anti-motherhood. i’m happy to sit here and benefit from what mothers have been through, but i will harass mothers at every possible opportunity for no discernible reason other than a desire to always control conversations and prove i’m smarter than everybody else. insecure? me? shut up i’ll fight you”

so i’m super happy to be friends with people regardless of whether they’re a feminist  or not, there are so many reasons why a person wouldn’t  be and even just because they’re not right now doesn’t mean they won’t be in future, it’s not like i came out of the womb and immediately started demanding equality- i was more into screaming incessantly for no good reason

it’s people who still scream incessantly for no good reason and send hundreds upon hundreds of messages to young feminists just to assert some weird form of dominance over everybody they meet that i have an issue with

i hope that made sense, and if anybody wants to get some harassing done today, feel free to tell me i’m wrong over and over until you’re blue in the face <3

the signs as restaurants⭐️
  • Aries: the energetic, loud barbeque restaurant, all equipped with a bar and a flat screen, the food is hearty and the colors are bright, warm and fun and the music, lights, and happiness emits an aura of excitement and good memories beginning all around
  • Taurus: the delightful, wine and dining restaurant with soft, fabric covered booth seating and delectable, heavy foods that burst with flavor, light music, and a dessert list that seems to go on for miles, you will leave feeling filled to the brim, a truly sensual experience
  • Gemini: the fun frozen yogurt and ice cream shop, with light, airy, creamy desserts, upbeat music, windows all around and stools lining the counter where glass encovered ice creams sit before they are scooped onto a crunchy cone, perfect summer's treat
  • Cancer: the friendly restaurant with a breakfast food themed menu, comfortable seats and kind servers, with food that reminds you of home, of your mother's cooking, of pancakes and french toast with cartoons on a Saturday morning, of your childhood
  • Leo: the perfect, high end, expensive, classy dinner and a show restaurant, with servers setting flame to your food right in front of you, with a stage for kareoke and dancing, a fancy yet fun night out, a restaurant that fulfills the dream of good food and good experiences
  • Virgo: the old fashioned diner with food prepared by people who have been preparing it for years and years, jukebox music and healthy fruit milkshakes, with alternatives and twists worked into the food that will leave you feeling refreshed, an experience that will put a practical spin on fun food
  • Libra: the restaurant that's the essential place to be, modern and hip, yet perfect for a couple's night out, a restaurant with clean cut lines and beautifully prepared dishes that can be mistaken for art, yet still have a balance between overindulgent and restricting, a place that has people talking
  • Scorpio: the dark, mysterious steakhouse with dim lighting and food that appeals to every taste profile at once, a restaurant with secretive ingredients that many want to discover yet few will actually figure out, yet a place that has fine meat and wine, and will leave you curious for more
  • Sagittarius: the restaurant that isn't a restaurant, the streets of a busy city, lined with vendors selling international foods that crowds gather around to get a taste of the exotic flavors, the smell of different cuisines mixing together under the open sky, excitement bubbling wherever you look
  • Capricorn: the simple restaurant with reviews upon reviews, food prepared using old family recipes passed down from generations before, using ingredients many find hard to pronounce, with well known faces lined up outside to get a taste of food that's so simple that it's incredibly successful
  • Aquarius: the experimental, make it yourself restaurant, with ingredients out in the open ready to be picked by the customer, many will pick unconventional food combonations that just seem to work, the place with modern technology touches and a fun new way to make food personal
  • Pisces: the shack by the sea, with foods inspired by the open tides, smoothies and shakes being prepared for customers to enjoy while laying on the soft, warm sand, the ocean kissing their feet, the experience of being with the ones you love and enjoying foods that remind you of yourself
oh no I wrote a thing

In light of this week’s episodes, I decided to write this—I always wondered why Laura and Carm were at each other’s throats in Ep. 22 and then seemingly fine in the next episode. Thus, this was born.

Laura sat at her computer poring over her Lit notes, yet actually accomplishing little. It would seem that being bitten by one’s vampire roommate does not contribute much to focusing on one’s studies.

“Okay so…an anastrophe is when an object or event is placed in a time period it doesn’t belong in. Wait, that doesn’t sound right. Oh fudgesicles I’m going to fail…”

Laura was torn away from her studies (or lack thereof) as she felt a light tickling sensation down her neck. Her hand flew to her neck. When she brought the hand in front of her face, it was wet and smeared crimson. She let out a shriek and frantically reached for her hand towel, flinging her notes to the ground in the process. It had been a few hours since she had been drained like a Capri-Sun pouch, and she was certain the bleeding had all but ceased by now.

With the shower still running, Laura rose and hammered on the door.

“Carmilla! Get out NOW!”

Laura continued to pummel the door until it swung open. Carmilla stood in the doorway, fully dressed and dabbing her hair nonchalantly with a towel.

“What’s eating you cupcake?”

Carmilla snickered at her own joke.

Laura shoved her aside and ran the towel under the faucet. She pressed the cloth tightly to her wound, but still the blood continued to flow.

“Oh God its still bleeding. Why am I still bleeding?”

Laura gingerly removed the towel to inspect the bite in the mirror. Sure enough two puncture marks could be seen, colored a deep dark red against her pale skin. A wide trail of blood marched down the length of her neck, pooling slightly at her clavicle.

“Its not going to stop with you just slapping a towel on it and hoping for the best, that’s for sure.”

Laura stomped out of the bathroom, her brown eyes flashing with anger.

“Well then, since this is your fault anyway, do you have any bright ideas?”

Carmilla sighed and ventured into the bathroom. When she returned, she had produced a somewhat worn glass vial, a clean washcloth, and several band-aids. Carmilla offered them sheepishly.

“May I?”

Taken aback, Laura sat on her bed and nodded mutely.

Carmilla opened the vial. She poured a tacky, light-blue liquid onto the washcloth and began to gently dab at Laura’s neck. Laura couldn’t help but let out a slight hiss and winced. Carmilla drew the cloth away.

“Does that hurt?”

“A little. It stings mostly.”

“I’ll be more careful then. This won’t take long, I promise.”

Carmilla continued her ministrations.

“There’s a…I dare not use the word ‘venom’…a substance in our fangs that discourages the platelets in your blood from clotting. It makes it easier to feed, as you would imagine. That’s why your wound isn’t healing. This balm will help encourage the bite to start healing.”

“Oh.” Was all Laura could manage to say.

Carmilla poured out more of the goop onto the towel and dabbed on another layer to Laura’s neck. After several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, Carmilla sighed.

“I’m sorry.”


Laura turned her head in shock to stare at Carmilla. She winced again at the sensations in her injury. She supposed the balm was doing its job, only because she felt a strange feeling somewhere between stinging and tingling where Carmilla had applied it.

“I said I’m sorry. I have been told before that it is impolite to bite people you are friendly with. And I’ve already given you enough reasons to believe I am a monster, I don’t particularly need to give you any more.”

Laura furrowed her brows and pushed Carmilla’s arm away.

“Carmilla. I have never, not once, thought of you as a monster. A terrible roommate? Sure. An insufferable, inconsiderate, secretive, filthy acquaintance? Of course. An all-around pain in my backside? Absolutely. But never a monster. Never.”

Carmilla smiled slightly, and stared down at the washcloth in her hands.

“Even so, I intruded in your personal space and violated your trust, and for that I apologize.”

“Well, thank you. I accept your apology.”

Carmilla continued her nursing efforts and the two roommates sat in a comfortable silence. Carmilla tenderly finished cleaning Laura’s bite and placed the tiny cork stopper back in the vial. She put the vial and cloth aside and began fumbling with the band-aid wrapper.

“So…what do I taste like?”

In shock, the band-aid slipped out of Carmilla’s perfectly manicured hands.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. What does blood taste like? I’m dying to know. Call it…journalistic curiosity.”

Carmilla bent down to scoop the bandage off the ground.

“I honestly have no idea how to answer that question. No one’s ever asked before.”

“C'mon, tell me! You know when you bite your lip really hard and you taste blood and its all bitter and metallic-y? Is that what its like?”

Carmilla scrunched her face and nervously began to play with the band-aid packaging.

“Its not so much as taste, I guess as a…feeling. After I feed, I feel…satisfied. Sustained. Its almost like eating a home-cooked meal made by your mother. Its warm and welcoming. But that’s the point I suppose.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully. Carmilla, finally tearing away the wrapping, peeled out the band-aid inside.

“Do some people taste better than others? I bet you’ve had your fair share of blood over the centuries. I want to know where I rank.”

Carmilla sighed, exasperated.


“No, no, c'mon tell me. Is it bad? Do I taste bad? I can take it, I promise. Just tell me! Please?”

Carmilla growled slightly.

“Yes, people taste differently.” Carmilla grumbled, unsure how to phrase her answer.

“Its actually a lot like love…unfortunately. People I have no emotional or…intimate interest in taste bland. Like food with no seasoning. If they peak my particular uhm, interests, they will taste more appealing, and I am likely to feed on them for longer periods of time. Its like when you eat ice cream out of the container and you can’t really bring yourself to put it down. When you bring emotional significance into the picture, I am wagering it would overall enhance the experience…but I’m not really too sure about that. I wouldn’t really know.”

Carmilla gently applied the bandage over Laura’s bite marks and saw the visible concern on her face. She couldn’t help but feel warmed that she was able to have this conversation. Laura, as lovely and considerate as she was, was not judgmental. She earnestly wanted to know and understand Carmilla better. A part of her was relieved to open up to someone again, especially to someone like Laura. It was freeing and terrifying, all at once.

“So?” Laura prodded.

Carmilla chuckled slightly.

“I can assure you Laura, that you are not the worst thing I have ever eaten.”

Laura’s chest stuck out a little bit then, satisfied with her response.

“There. You are all fixed up and free to go.” Carmilla said.

“Yeah, free to cram my brain for two hours until it explodes. There’s no possible way I’m going to pass this stupid mid-term.”

Carmilla paused and picked up Laura’s copy of 'The Jungle Book’ from off her desk.

“Its on this Kipling stuff, right? I might have leafed through it a couple times. The important thing is to notice the themes of order and chaos within the different animals…”

- - -

Hours later, Laura walked out of her Lit class, reeling. She felt somewhat akin to a chair in a WWF brawl. As she prepared for the long trek back to her dorm in the chilly October weather, she felt an itch at her ear. She found her hand lingering over the bandage on her neck, and she smiled.

You are everything I wanted when I was young.
You’re skipping stones, you’re broken bones,
You’re scraped knees when I fall from the playground. 

I’m striking matches, you’re chewing gum.
We share a cigarette in the shade of an oak tree.

There’s a bruise on your forehead from when I pushed you over.
It’s raucous. It’s easy,
It’s a hundred hours in the space of a day.
Sun on our backs with the sprinklers on, 
And your bike with my bike leaning against the park fence.

How is it justified? How is it real?
Your eyes are fire stars.
Your lips are sweet wine when I’m still too young to like it, but I do.

Down the path we take to home. 
Your house is left, mine is right,
Your mother is cooking dinner.

You are everything I wanted when I was young.
But we’re older now and the joy is brief and hollow.
Back to taunts. Back to pummeled pillows in the middle of the night,
Because being older means we understand the consequences.
It means you’ve been pushed over too many times,
But not by me,
And I wasn’t there to help you.

Meet me again when we’re younger. When the world is kinder.
Let me feel your fingers when you drag me to the park. 
Let me hear your feet splashing in the lake.
Let me run to the left and taste your mother’s cooking,
And sleep in your bed when the sun is setting.

It’s not wrong. It’s not bad.
It’s everything I wanted when I was young.
And everything I want right now.

—  boys will be boys and love other boys // t.a
[Ereri 365 Project] Day 289 : Talk (High School AU)

They’re cuddling on the couch at Eren’s house when Eren mutes the TV over the commercials.

Levi looks at his boyfriend. “What?”

“I looked into finding someone to talk to,” Eren says, wringing his hands together. “Like a therapist or counselor or whatever.”

Levi stares for a moment before smiling. “I’m proud of you.”

Eren looks up at him. “My first appointment is after school on Wednesday.”

“Good.” Levi sits up on his knees and plays with the pink parts of Eren’s hair. “How are you feeling about going?”

Eren drapes his arms around Levi’s waist. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be, it’ll be fine.”

“The woman I talked to sounded pretty nice.” Levi smiles. Eren looks up at him. “Will you go with me?”

“You mean drive you?”

“Not exactly, my mom’s driving in case she has to fill any paperwork out with me, but I wanted you to come.”

“I guess, if you want me to.”

Eren pulls Levi against him for a hug. “Thank you.”

The door opens. Levi looks up to see Eren’s dad walk in. The older man looks at them, shakes his head, and walks down the hall, presumably to his room. Levi doesn’t bother greeting the old man, content to pay his boyfriend attention instead.

Eren lets him go and unmutes the TV so they can continue watching reruns of Bones. “I’ve already seen this one,” Grisha says.

Both teens look over to see him standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. “Hi Dad,” Eren says, slipping his hand into Levi’s. “I didn’t notice you come in.”

Levi is glad Grisha doesn’t comment on that, in favor of going into the kitchen to make something. Eren fingers tighten between Levi’s. Levi looks at him, he looks nervous. Grisha makes coffee and walks back out with it in a travel mug. “I’ll bring home dinner so tell your mother not to cook,” he says, taking his keys out of his pocket.

“I will,” Eren replies.

He opens the door. “And Eren?”

Eren looks up at his father. “Sir?”

“Don’t you ever do something like that to your hair without asking again.”

Eren looks back down at his lap. “Yes sir.”

Grisha leaves and Eren leans on Levi for support.

“Did you really keep your hair secret from him for three days?” Levi asks.

Eren shrugs. “The first day he came home late, I wore a beanie the next day, and he came home late again yesterday.”

“I like your hair.”

“You like most things about me though, he doesn’t.”

Levi plays with the pink locks again. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “You have me and your band and Mikasa and your mom, he doesn’t matter.”

“I guess not,” Eren replies.

“You should especially care about your mom over him because she’s great and she loves you so much and she’s worth worrying about.”

Eren smiles. The door opens again and Carla walks in. “Hey there boys,” she says with a grin. Eren gets up and gives her a hug. She looks confused but happy and returns the hug. “What’s this for?”

“Because I love you.”

Levi smiles at them.

Harry's Close Encounter

You couldn’t believe it.  He was here, he was actually here.  After many long months of communication only through Skype calls and cheeky texts, your boyfriend Harry Styles was finally visiting you at your family’s farm in Iowa.  You’d tried your best to explain the farm to Harry in words, but you knew you could never do it justice.  He’d been here for a whole day now and you’d taken him through each of the daily chores you had to do to help maintain the place while you were home for the summer.  Now you were laying together, cuddling silently on your bed after eating a wonderful home-cooked meal provided by your mother.  


“I’m so glad you could finally make it,” you whispered to Harry with your head on his chest.


“I’ve been dying to see the place - almost as much as I’ve been dying to see you,” he smiled down at you.  He leaned in to kiss you softly and you giggled.


“Wanna go take a walk outside? The sky is beautiful this time of year,” you asked, sitting up.


“Why not!” Harry smiled as he grabbed his coat and yours and walked downstairs.  


You opened the oak front door and stepped out onto the wooden porch into the brisk August air.  You grabbed Harry’s hand and led him out to your favorite star-gazing spot just outside the corn fields.  Once you found it, you sat down and grinned up at your handsome boyfriend, beckoning him to join you.  He sat down quietly and you both laid down, resuming your position on your bed, and you both gazed up at the dark sky speckled with spots of light.  


“You know what?” Harry began. “Laying right here with you? One of the highlights of my short life.  Honestly, Y/N, you really are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”


Your heart swelled at these words.  What more could you ask for in this life?  


“I love you so much, Harry.”


“I love - what the…?” before Harry could finish his sentence, you were both startled by a bright light shining down on you from the sky.


“What the hell is that?!” you screamed.


“¡Hola!” shouted a voice from what seemed to be a flying saucer hovering above the two of you. “¡Buenos dias! My amigos and I are here to see a certain Señor Styles,” shouted the creature from above.  You and Harry exchanged puzzled and terrified looks.  Before either of you could utter another word, Harry seemed to fly into the light coming from the saucer.  He had been pulled onto their ship.


“HARRY NO!” you shouted, but it was no use.


“¡Adios muchacha!” you recognized Harry’s voice shouting from the ship. “See ya never, motherfucker!”


And just like that, you were left alone forever, resorting to removing yourself from technology and civilization, becoming your very own Little Y/N on the Prairie.

sleepy thoughts

I woke up at 5am today and couldn’t fall back asleep. For one thing, I’m getting my dog in 3 days and I can’t stop thinking about it and ALL THE EXCITEMENT.

but this morning, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, I couldn’t shake this thought:
“there’s more to life than my body.”

I started thinking about how so much of my life has revolved around being obsessed with my weight and how to change it – literally the past 8 years. Fuck, that sounds awful when I realize how long that is. I’m 22 years old and all of my adult life has been dominated by a desire to look a certain way.

And then I started realizing that I care much less about how my body looks than I have in years. Really, I can have FULL days now where I get up, throw something on, and go to school all day without thinking about how fat/skinny I feel. It’s still rare, but it happens here and there. And I wondered if it’s because I’m getting older and “maturing,” or if I’m just at a point where I’m so mentally exhausted from it that I can’t do it anymore.

And then I thought about some of the women I know who seem to reach age 25-27 and stop talking about their weight or their new diet as much, and ultimately stop trying to change their bodies. It’s not many women I know (unfortunately), but I can think of 2-3 of my closest friends who are not actively trying to lose weight.

I used to think that these women just “got lazy.” They gain 10-30 lbs from high school to college and then just “get used to it” and stop trying to lose it. I thought they just didn’t want to be healthy, that they just “gave up." I realize now how flawed this thinking is. Beyond the fact that it’s ridiculous for me to make assumptions about whether or not another woman is happy with her weight (and, in reference to the women I spoke of above, I have no idea how truly happy they are with their bodies, I only know that they are not trying to change themselves) – the real thing I’ve realized now is that it’s not "laziness” to accept your body. It’s freeing, it’s almost a rebellious “fuck you” to society’s standards, and it’s sure as hell a lot healthier than the cycling yo-yo dieting I put myself through.

And you know what else? It gives you the ability to live your damn life. Because when you’re in your 20s and working your ass off trying to balance school, work, relationships, whatever it may be – you’re going to be able to do it a lot better when 80% of your thoughts aren’t directed at your body or what you’re going to eat that day.

And when you look back,that spontaneous night of baking cookies and drinking wine with your roommates, or surprising your mother for a weekend at home without going to the gym, or cooking dinner with your boyfriend and eating until you’re so full you both lie down and spend hours talking and laughing…. these are the moments that make up the richness of your life. I don’t know about you, but when I look back at memories, I want to know that I was there, in the moment, living and loving everything around me – instead of being unhappy in my core, and wasting so much energy and time thinking I can’t or shouldn’t do these things if I “really care about losing weight” or whatever dumb shit I’ve convinced myself the past eight years.

Eight. fucking. years. Here’s to the next eight years of my life, in which I’ll actually focus on living.