#salad freak book

[abramsbooks]

RECIPE: BLT Potato Salad (from Salad Freak by Jess Damuck)

By the middle of July, I start eating a BLT almost every day, and each time I am reminded that it’s the perfect sandwich. Crispy, salty bacon, and crunchy lettuce. But the big slices of fat, juicy tomatoes, seeping, mixing in with the fat of mayonnaise—that is what I’m addicted to. My friend Steve in Bovina grows the best tomatoes I’ve ever had, tomatoes that are bursting with flavor and begging to be sprinkled with a bit of flaky salt. These are the kind of tomatoes, so plump and ripe, that just the memory of them can keep you going through the winter—perhaps they’ve somehow stored the warmth of the sunshine inside you. Since it’s no guarantee that even peak heirloom tomatoes somewhere else may be even half as good as Steve’s, I’ve used cherry tomatoes here, because those little guys are so plentiful in the summer months and delicious no matter who’s growing them and hold up a bit better if you’re traveling to a picnic or barbecue. This is the perfect way to share the feeling of a BLT with a group, or a wonderful excuse to eat more than one combination of bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes in a single day.

PRODUCE

1½ pounds (680 g) baby Yukon gold potatoes

2 cloves garlic

1 lemon

2 heads Little Gem lettuce

1 pint (280 g) cherry tomatoes

4 scallions

¼ cup (11 g) chopped fresh chives

MEAT

1 pound (455 g) bacon

PANTRY

¼ cup (60 ml) mayonnaise

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Extra-virgin olive oil

Flaky salt

COOK: Put 1½ pounds (680 g) baby potatoes in a large pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil. Cook until easily pierced with a knife, about 12 minutes. Drain and spread out on a baking sheet to cool. Once cooled, consider slicing them—I think they are a bit easier to eat when cut in half, but if your potatoes are small enough, this might not be necessary.

PREP: Use a Microplane to grate 2 cloves garlic into a large bowl. Add the zest of 1 lemon, mix together, then stir in ¼ cup (60 ml) mayonnaise and season with salt and pepper. Add the potatoes to the bowl and toss.

MAKE THE LEMON VINAIGRETTE: In a small bowl, combine the juice of ½ lemon with a couple tablespoons oil. Season with salt and pepper.

ASSEMBLE AND SERVE: Separate the leaves of 2 heads lettuce and tear them into bite-size pieces; wash and spin dry. Put the lettuce in a large bowl and add a bit of the dressing to lightly coat and arrange on the serving platter. Scatter the potatoes on top of the lettuce.

Cut 1 pint (280 g) cherry tomatoes in half and slice 4 scallions, and add them, along with the chives, to the bowl you used to dress the lettuce. Add the rest of the dressing, toss, and scatter this mixture on top of the potatoes.

Crumble 1 pound (455 g) cooked bacon (precooked weight) on top. Sprinkle with a bit of flaky salt and some more pepper.

One of TIME’s most anticipated cookbooks of Spring 2022

One of Food & Wine’s best cookbooks of Spring 2022

A USA TODAY and PUBLISHERS WEEKLY bestseller!

Delicious and beautiful recipes from Martha Stewart’s personal salad chef and the self-proclaimed “Bob Ross of salads.”

Offering more than 100 inspired recipes, recipe developer and food stylist Jess Damuck shares her passion for making truly delicious salads. Salad Freak encourages readers to discover and embrace their own salad obsessions. With the right recipes, you will want to eat salad for every meal and never get bored. By playfully combining color, texture, shape, and, of course, flavor, Damuck demonstrates how a little extra effort in the kitchen can be meditative, delicious, and fun. The recipes—such as her Citrus Breakfast Salad; Tea-Smoked Chicken and Bitter Greens Salad; Caesar Salad Pizza Salad; and Roasted Grapes, Ricotta, Croutons, and Endive Salad—are meant to be hearty enough for a meal all year round but versatile enough to be incorporated into a larger menu. For Damuck, the perfect salad balances each bite, with something tart enough to twinge your cheeks, something sweet to balance out the bitter, and something with a little salty crunch to finish. Salad Freak is not just about eating to feel good; it’s about confidently combining flavors to create fresh, bright, and satisfying meals that you will want to make again and again.

For more information, click here.

#abramsbooks #abrams books #salad freak #salad freak book #blt #blt salad #blt potato salad #recipe #free recipe #4th of july #4th of july recipe

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

❤️What scene do you think your readers will love/anticipate the most?

🍑Pick your favorite of these and explain why: fade-to-black love scenes, open door love scenes, or a story without love scenes 😂😂😂

😇Describe the plot of your story as if you’re explaining it to a beloved elderly family member. I'm so sorry please don't kill me

Thanks for the ask Elli... *glances up* I think... :') From this ask game

❤️What scene do you think your readers will love/anticipate the most?

Umm. Heh. For Shattered Dreams, I think it would be the Hallin chapters. They're the first chapters Alaia finds any measure of acceptance and happiness in the book, and then I did what I did and... but I know several betas loved those chapters (yeah, I'm cheating a bit lol). A bright spot if you will :')

For Shattered Soul, I think the chapters where Darian takes Alaia into the city will be favorites. Maybe bc *I* love them so much, but readers are supposed to be able to tell when the author loves a scene, right? 😅

🍑Pick your favorite of these and explain why: fade-to-black love scenes, open door love scenes, or a story without love scenes 😂😂😂

Oh geez. What did I ever do to you? 😶 don't answer that 😅😅

I like aesthetics... So I generally prefer open-door love scenes over fade-to-black, as long as they're tastefully done and not overly drawn out. God I don't want to read 5 pages about sucking dick please

That being said, all I really want is some kind of relationship between characters. It can be sexual, romantic, platonic, QPR... I just want some kind of commitment-but not even that, really. I want them to *really* care about one another. If they were to be separated, or if something were to happen to the other person, I want devastation from the other party. I want them to care about each other to that degree :)

😇Describe the plot of your story as if you’re explaining it to a beloved elderly family member. I'm so sorry please don't kill me

*glares* Please, let me explain my captivity/torture/sex story to my grandparents I WOULD RATHER DIE *cough*

SIGH

Oh hey grandma, you... you heard I was writing a book? What's it about? *clears throat nervously* Well, umm, you see... it's a nice fantasy love story.

Tell you more? *shitshitshit-racks brain* The female main discovers she has magic, which is bad. She spends the book trying to escape her situation, which is further complicated when she falls in love with a fellow mage and has to include him in her plans. She also gets a cute little dragon companion. Then, there's a couple more characters on the other side of the world with their own issues, but they get dragged into her problem as well. *sweats*

You want to read it? cue this internal reaction -> 😨😱 Well, um, you might not like it much grandma. It has *whispers* sex scenes in it. *turns bright red* I'd really rather you didn't.

#bc the sex scenes are totally the *only* reason i don't want my family reading this book 😅😂 #we'll completely ignore the... other things #iykyk #and if you dont-its in my wip intro cws lol #was your goal to embarrass me with these asks elli? 😅 #yeah yeah thats a me problem i know *snickers* #you are lucky i love you lol #or i might actually kill you for this #starlit plays ask games #i can even burn salad #shattered dreams #since i basically put a freaking blurb in here (a really truly bad one but still lol)

[monimccoythings]

Classy Turtle

Okay, here’s part 2. Second parts were never good but I was dying to make this one. Just the mental image of it. Been watching the critics reviews of this glorious movie and every single one I’ve read are just terrible reviews of movies the audience absolutely adored (it’s the freaking Super Mario Movie, it doesn’t have to be the new Godfather) And those people who want to cancel Bowser, the villain of the Mario saga, for acting like a villain and singing a villain song that slaps? Are they okay? Don’t they get the basic concepts of villainy?

Previous Parts: 1

Next Parts: 3,4,5

tags: @loveforfandomsstuff​ @harpy-space​

You kept coming back to the palace to visit whenever you had the time. You really enjoyed spending time with your new friends and learning more about the Mushroom Kingdom. It’s like everyday there was some new adventure!

You also met the famous fearless Toad who had accompanied Peach and Mario throughout their dangerous journey to the Kong Kingdom and were lucky enough to eat one of his even more famous meals. You weren’t sure you had tasted something so divine in your entire life, goddamn it, Toad, drop the secret recipe book.

But if there was also a not entirely malicious ulterior motive for your visits, it would probably be your endearing wittle piano playing turtle that on his free time commited war crimes. It’s not like you were obsessed (liar), you just found yourself completely enamoured by the concept of some tiny musical tot that spoke highly of himself in a high pitched voice.

You were no fool. You knew he was dangerous and that given the chance, he would commit all those atrocities again. But he was SO LITTLE AND CUTE NOW. You just have to be careful with your gushing. The least you wanted is to cause the literal Third World War over a turtle.

It became an habit of yours to bring some gifts for everyone of your friends whenever you came to visit, and that included him, be it a tiny chair from an old house, a Ken doll, that always ended with his head chewed off, some lettuce (or whatever this turtle ate)...

Presenting him your offerings always was a tricky task. Peach and the bros had kindly drawn a perimeter around his cage that was called the “no-no zone”. Anyone that dared to cross that line, would meet their untimely end at the hands of a flame with the burning power of some kid using an aerosol flamethrower. Maybe it was a bit dramatic but he nearly burnt part of your hair last time so better not risk it, as he was an amgery firey boi. Unfortunately for him, you had put your wicked mind to use and had developed a system that didn’t put your hair or any part of your body in danger of suffering third degree burns. You called it “The Salad Tongs Solution”.

You had decided to use them instead of sticking to the classic put them in while he sleeps. Next time you tried to put a blankie over him when he slept he got scared so badly he went inside his shell and started spinning against the walls of the cages like some deadly top toy. Never again. Poor baby needed his beauty sleep.

So today, you were bringing in a special gift. After some rumaging through your old toys, you found some old tuxedo from one onf your dolls, you didn’t remember which one. But hey, maybe he would like this one?

Welp, he didn’t. As much as Mario would have loved to see him in it, nope, this turtle had expensive tastes and apparently this old tuxedo wasn’t up to his standards. Awww, classy turtle. The high pitched voice just made his rant look like an angry smurf that swore like a sailor. It was so adorable, you were not even bothered he didn’t like it. “It’s okay sweet baby!” You cooed to him. 

Bowser was bewildered at your audacity, your nerve! How dare you not praise him like the feared warlord he is! This will not stand! He will get out, and when he gets out the world shall get a taste of his revenge! You will bow to him in reverence! You will- oh, there you go again, looking at him with that dopey smile and those adoring eyes. Disgusting. Embarrassing. He is NOT a cutie patootie, thank you very much. He is KING OF THE KOOPAS, the strongest and baddest there is! That’s why you should look at him adoringly! Not because he is burger shaped!

A couple of days later Luigi sent a message with a photo attached to the groupchat. Opening it was the best decision in your life: there he was, your little buddy dressed in the tuxedo with the most disgruntled face he could make and being held with the salad tongs. A warm feeling spread through your chest, and for the rest of the day a huge smile was plastered on your face. He was such a dapper little gentleman.

#bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #super mario movie x reader #mario movie x reader #bowser #y/n #mario movie #bowser x you

[holylulusworld]

Faking it all (2)

Summary: It’s date time. 

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 7 – Saturday, April 20 - Alpha/Omega for Hire

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, reader was an omega for hire, love-struck Dean, nervous Dean

Words: 700+

Catch up here: Faking it all

A/N: This is the last day of the event and the last story I wrote for it.

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

Dean wrings his hands. He didn’t listen and came to your apartment instead of waiting for you at the restaurant. The alpha tried to act like a gentleman and pick you up.

Now the clock is ticking and he’s waiting patiently outside of your home.

“Y/N, I came here to pick you up. I bought you flowers and all. At the restaurant, you cannot put the flowers anywhere.”

You sigh and open the door. “I told you to wait outside the restaurant for me,” you purse your lips. “You can’t even follow a simple order. This is our first date and you already messed everything up.”

“I came here to offer flowers to you,” Dean grunts. “I thought you’d be impressed because I tried to be romantic. I even booked a fucking horse carriage to drive us through the park after dinner.”

You watch Dean despair. He looks at the flower basket standing next to your doorframe, huffing as he messed up the first date with you.

“I wanted you to wait for me at the restaurant so I can drive home alone. Most alphas want to pick a woman up, believing they get laid after the first date.”

“What? I—” Dean swallows thickly. His cock twitched in interest, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t think of getting laid. I only tried to survive the first date without fucking things over again.”

You cross your arms over your chest, simply watching Dean whine.

“Fine. Get the flowers and call that carriage dude. I won’t spend the night in a carriage. It’s cold, and I’m not in the mood to smell horse poop.”

“Poop?” Dean grins.

“Hurry up and get inside,” you open the door wider, walking with it to let Dean inside. He grasps the flower basket and hurriedly makes his way inside your apartment. “I got pasta, salad, and pie for dessert.”

Dean stops in his tracks to stare at you. “What? You cooked. But why?”

“I knew you’d not listen,” you coo and pat his shoulder. “Take off your shoes and coat and put the flower basket on the sideboard over there.” You point to the sideboard.

“You knew?” He quirks a brow. “How?”

“I knew the alpha hindbrain could not follow orders coming from an omega. And I knew you’re an eager puppy wanting to rub your scent into my stuff.”

His grin widens. Dean chuckles and crouches down to unlace his shoelaces. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

“Slow down and hold the horses,” you poke his back with your index finger. “You didn’t make it through the first date yet.”

“I…I don’t want you to work as an omega for hire any longer. I’ll help you find a better job or do anything to keep you away from other alphas,” he blurs out. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t want to say things like that. I’m not a control freak or try to dominate you.”

“As if I’d let you dominate me," you snort. "No alpha will ever tell me how to live my life."

Dean drops his gaze. He did exactly what he tried not to do. Now he lost the chance to get to know you better and win you over.

“Relax. My business went down the drain long before we met. The new girls did more than go on dates with my clients and ruined my reputation.”

You shrug and grab the flower basket.

“You don’t work as an omega for hire anymore?” Dean follows you hot on your heels. “Really? I mean…are you open to pups and nesting in my home? Maybe we can mate and look for a new home together. I got all these plans and…” He gasps at his words. 

You snort.

“Crap,” Dean curses under his breath. “Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry…again. Please, believe me, I’m usually not like this.”

You smirk.

“I swear!”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean whispers. He watches you turn around. His eyelashes flutter nervously when you cup his face with both hands.

“If you stop talking now, this can still be a nice evening,” you lean closer to peck his nose. “You should use your brain as a filter before speaking again. I don't need to know that you are planning to breed me like a horny dog.”

He chuckles nervously. It’s like you can see right through his cocky façade. “Okay.”

“Good,” you peck his nose again. “If you can tame your libido and stop saying stupid things, you can eat with me.”

“I promise to not talk about breeding or your job again. I’m an idiot, but not stupid.”

“As long as you’re not like your father,” you nip at his lips, making him purr against you, “we are golden…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #spnomegaverseweek2024 #a/b/o #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #x reader

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes and Romance

Part One 🥰

Dean x reader

A/N: this is my first ever written piece on here, so let me know what y'all think, much love my little twinkies💞

Warnings: Talking of killing, swearing, police case, not sure what else.

,..............

The smell of freshly grounded coffee beans fills the cozy little coffee shop. There's about six or seven tables in the middle, but you always choose the little corner seat, mostly everyday you sit there, watching people, listening conversations, finding inspiration.

No one except the waitress ever notices you, though that's the way you like it, sitting there admiring the way autumn takes over the leaves, its always been your favourite season ever since you were that little girl, running around, playing with the leaves, your parents would get so mad at you, for messing up the garden, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your thoughts get inturupted by the waitress, need a fill up? Ah! Yes please Julie, I'd appreciate that, not getting much work done today, saying with a smile. Sure, Julie said, you'll get there, one day I'll know what you do for a living I guess... You laugh a little, yeah one day.

It's not that your in the secret service or something, its just, you are a very private person, despite the fact that you're a social media influencer, and an author of three best selling books. You're actually busy working on a new book right now, but its going slow, you need inspiration of the male character, but just can't seem to find one, hell you can't even think of one, and since its one of those spicy romance books, you can't exactly base the character loosely on your brother, that'll be damn weird. Deep in thought, you hear the bell of the door, chime, welcoming a new customer. You look up from your laptop and see its two men , one man looks like a freaking giant, brownish hair, kinda messy looking, hanging over his ears, the other one a bit shorter but still tall, with his dark blondish hair, neatly spiking in the air, with a little stubble beard enhancing the already amazing, sharp jaw line, pink rose plump lips forming a smile when he excitedly said, with a kinda gruffy voice, look Sammy, they've got pecan pie. Yeah okay! Let's take a seat, and try to behave said the taller one.

You can't help it, you are drawn too him, like a moth to a flame, you quickly look in your flower tote bag, grabbing your sketch book and favourite pencil, and with out waisting anymore time , you pick up the pencil and start sketching the outline, of his nearly perfect face, getting swept away in the aroma of the coffee, the outline of his face, the way his savouring every single bite of the pie, you just have to sketch this man, maybe you can loosely base your books character on him, damn he sure is good-looking you think sketching away.

.............

Damn Sammy, this pie is just what I needed, Dean said. How is it possible that we never came to this coffee shop, Dean said, looking over at Sam eating his salad, dude he said, live a little, try some pie! I'm fine, thanks man, you know I prefer healthy choices Sam said with a not amused look on his face. Yeah well, whatever, I prefer living a little, we can die at anytime with our line of work Dean said.

Dean can hear a sort of muddled sound of his brother's telling him something, but can't really focus, in the corner, is a woman sitting with black jeans and a black top with a long mustard yellow jersey, with flat shoes matching the black, the light coming through, shining on one side, making her appear like an angel, with a messy hair bun and loose pieces of hair framing hair face, she's wearing glasses with a purplish frame, complimenting her pale, white skin, she's biting her lip, while focussing on something, not quite sure what it is. She is medium built, definitely not the type of women he goes for with their sleek long legs and high heels, but damn she was beautiful, a kind of beautiful Dean had rarely seen!

Dean! Hey! Dude! Snap out of it, Sam said while hitting Dean on the shoulder! What! Is your problem Sam, Dean said frustration clearly in his voice. What the hell man, I've been talking for the past few minutes, and then I just lost you. Bite me, Dean said. Clearly confused Sam taking a bite of his salad, you okay Dean, is it this case that has you all worked up? Yeah maybe! We need to get this guy before he kills anyone else, Dean said frown visible taking another bite of pie, keeping an eye on you in the distance, thinking you take his breath away without even saying a single word...

#winchester brothers #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #bobby singer #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #Spotify

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC questionnaire

Thanks to @eccaiia here, @mysticstarlightduck here and here, and @elsie-writes here!

Other questionnaires:

Robbie, Gwen, Maddie, Noelle, Jedi, and Kelsey here.

Carmen, George, Akash, Sam, Lexi, and Ash here.

Gabriel, Carla, Parker, Rose, Alex, and Ewan here.

Liam, Hye-Jin, Wendy, Wade, Issa, and CJ here.

Teo, Niri, Jazlyn, and Anathi here.

Below the cut, I will do Tyler, Xitlali, Atsila, and Raissa!

#1- Tyler

Are you an outdoorsy person or a fair weather freak?

“Outdoors suck. Would rather stay inside. Gym is inside. Books are inside. Why bother dealing with outside?’

Do you like animals? Have any pets?

“Have a poodle named Jolene. No, we didn't style her hair. She's perfect as is.”

What's one thing you keep on you at all times?

“... Did you know that the last thing you think about before you fall asleep is the first thing you remember in the morning? So the night before a big test, study right before going to bed! That'll keep you up at night.”

#2- Raissa

Do you have any weird or unusual habits?

“Absolutely not. There is nothing weird about me. Though John complains about me sighing too much. He once said I breathe out more air than I breathe in.”

Are you a night owl or a morning bird?

“These are ridiculous Ceteri phrases that make no sense. But my answer is neither, or both. You decide how to interpret it. I have devised a daily potion that allows me to properly function on a mere five hours of sleep, rather than the eight most people need. I'm up early and late. Now, if only I can get my team to help find a way to eliminate sleep altogether...”

Who is the person you hate the most? Why?

“Atsila McLain would be such an easy answer. And I can tell you want me to say her. But no. She was merely annoying. I try to avoid thinking about her Aequales as long as I can. She thought of us as nemeses, but it was one-sided on her part. But maybe if she stopped trying to take what was rightfully mine, I would stop. She never experienced anything I did. And in the name of peace? She was an awful person. It was a relief when I killed her.”

#3- Atsila

What are your biggest pet peeves?

“Oh, spirits, I hate when people aren't doing what they're supposed to do at the speed they should do it. I mean, how hard is it to adhere to a schedule and complete your tasks in an efficient manner? I don't understand it! I tell people to do something, and they don't do it! Or, they do it in the least efficient way I've ever seen. Even something as simple as walking. Walk diagonally to get somewhere faster. No need to stay on a certain path. But no it seems like every other person here is staying on the path.”

Who is the person you look up to the most?

“I don't look up to anyone. Literally, I suppose, everyone--I am rather short. Figuratively, no one. I suppose Carmen is rather efficient. And organized. She's highly intelligent and... She listens to me. I admire her loyalty and companionship.”

Do you have any major fears?

“Absolutely not. [Pause] I suppose boredom. Mediocrity.” if I may add - it's because she's terrified at the state she'll be in if something isn't going on Right Now

#4- Xitlali

Do you have any allergies?

“I think this is a personal question. I mean, what kinda questionnaire is it? Would rather not answer it. But ekaberries. I break out in hives if I eat it.”

How many people have you kissed?

“Not as many as I'd like, but I'm only twelve, so I'll probably kiss a few girls before long.”

What is your favorite number?

“My favorite number is 63. I find it incredibly satisfying knowing it's divisible by 7. 91 is a close contender for the same reason.”

I feel like this is all of the prominent TSP characters I feel need to answer these questions. Next time I'm tagged will begin the repeats.

Tagging softly @aziz-reads @thegreatobsesso @i-can-even-burn-salad @mk-writes-stuff @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

What is your favorite thing about rain? What is your least favorite thing about it?

@willtheweaver @elsie-writes @dyrewrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

What is something you don't mind waiting a long time for?

Have you ever been punished for something you didn't do?

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

#the secret portal #teaspoon #tsp #oc tag game #my ocs #oc questionnaire #tyler nakashima #raissa kamanzi #atsila mclain #xitlali zepahua #writing tag game #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community

[punk-in-docs]

🎃Trick? or Treat?🎃

Summary: Eddie’s friends don’t actually believe you’re really dating him, and they require some proof. Cause no way has the freak scored a girl like you- 3k- a dirty funky little drabble really…

Reader is related to my Eddie Series. Come take a look-

“There is no way. There’s just no way.” Dustin piped up. Dismissing it with a shake of his curly head.

“Agreed.” Mike pitched in, solidly. “I don’t buy it.”

They’re talking to each other like you aren’t even there.

“It’s gotta be a set up.” Comes Gareth’s opinion. Nodding as he points his fork at Mike. A wedge of yellow fruit speared on the end.

“A bet right?” Says Jeff. Crossing his arms and eyeing you up, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

You were currently sat at the Hellfire table, so dubbed the freaks’ spot by the jocks, in the canteen.

It was Fall. Inside there were paper streamers looped about the walls in twisting orange and black. Cardboard cut-out Jack-o-lanterns and skulls sneer from the walls.

Outside was a mucky amalgamation of Indiana Fall. Bone chilling rain and sticky brown-gold leaves, that had come off the trees days earlier. The huge windows in here misty muggy and smeared condensation with rain knifing down the glass the other side. The sky is dark grey, all bruised, and heaving with chowder thick clouds.

Droopy paper halloween decorations are tacked everywhere in this space that smells like stale pepperoni pizza. Hand made felt tip posters are tacked up on every surface for the ‘Fright Night’ party happening in the gym.

Now you were looking down the table at five very concerned faces. All of whom were waiting for you to spill the truth.

Quite frankly, they’re all looking at you like you’re Judas Iscariot at a disciples reunion.

Your eyes darted around from person to person.

They don’t believe you exist. They can’t believe it.

They cannot buy that you’re dating the curly haired scarecrow that is their metal headed Hellfire Leader. Your Eddie.

Who at this moment had dashed out in the rain to the parking lot with his black hoodie yanked over his wild hair, cause he left his lighter in his van.

And cause you’d left your chapstick in there in the glove compartment. And well, he did offer to retrieve it for you. Such a Prince.

“What part of are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask as you reach in your bag for your book, and your brown paper bag of home made lunch. Chicken salad sandwich and a bag of chips. Extra large portions. You knew who would be stealing half your lunch.

Your chunky blue sweater slides off one shoulder. Revealing a lilac bra strap and a definite indication of a grape-purple hickie nestled in the crook your neck. The mystery continues.

“It’s gotta be fake. You’re like, dating a jock or something, aren’t you?” Jeff narrows his eyes at you like you’re a suspect.

Your gaze is packed in snow. Something razor cold skimmed off the Arctic Ocean.

“I take offence at that, dweeb.” You lob your eraser at his head.

That move is eerily similar to… someone else.

You hold your hand out, palm up to him, with a thundering frown. He throws your pink eraser back.

“But you’re-“ Mike starts. Then his tongue stunts itself.

You pause. Brows shooting up your head.

“I’m what, Wheeler?” Your tone invites him to think very carefully about his next words.

“You’re a girl.” He splutters.

“Hey. Only on the outside, kid.” You wink and click your tongue at him. Grinning. Widening your eyes. You learnt that from someone else too. The Kubrick stare.

“No- you’re, like. You’re a girl, girl. Like, you’re popular and. Normal? You get good grades. You’re friends with Jonny Lopez’ girlfriend. You’re going to like, a big league college.”

“I wouldn’t say popular. And we’re not entirely like friends. She just sort of bitches at me, and I occasionally give her a ride to school.” You shrug honestly.

“And hey excuse me, I’m not normal.” You point out. “I was reliably told this was the table that celebrates being ‘not normal’ anyhow.” you curl your fingers with air quotes.

They shrink down a little with that point. “Well yeah- actually.” and a chorus of shuffles, awkward coughs, and agreeing grunts comes your way.

“Good. Cause if I wanted to be ordinary I’d go sit at that table over there.” You nudge your head across the way where Jonny and Linda are sitting.

He’s telling some stupid macho story about a keg party to his fellow guffawing gorillas. She was busy chewing gum, not listening and painting her nails slutty cherry red.

“Did he pay you to do this?” Dustin asks. “Like $20 bucks if you come sit over here and prank the nerds.”

You slowly crunch a chip on your tongue and shoot him a spiky look. “Careful, Henderson.”

“Who paid who, to what, to the nerds?” Bursts a new voice into the conversation.

Quite possibly your favourite voice ever.

Eddie thumps himself down on his throne at the end of the table. Nudges his chair right up close to yours.

He’s flicking rain drips off his hoodie, some beaded down his leather arms. Some still clung to his big dark doe lashes and his messy bangs now growing wonkily down into his eyes. You’d seen him loping into the trailer bathroom the other day with a cigarette on the go, and a pair of scissors to just whack at those bangs. Messy as fuck.

A few rolling rain drips are still skating down his forehead. Soggy black sleeves nudge your chapstick into your palm on the table. He shakes off the rain like a wet dog.

Eddie drops a kiss on your head. A soft “Mwah” before he takes his seat. His hair hanging on your nose smelling like your dreamy coconut conditioner, because he’d spent the night at yours last night.

Neither of you got much sleep, naturally. You were sore in places you didn’t know could be sore. That boy was a sexual menace.

“Dude. We were just talking about your not girlfriend here.” Gareth pointed out. Jeff was deciding to take a cowardly out and hide behind a comic book.

Eddie tilts his head at the guy. Winding his cold knuckles through yours. Right there on the table top. Skin chilled from the rain.

“Is that a challenge in that sentence I’m hearing?” He asks with a stormy edge to his expression.

Eddies gaze could be lethal if he willed it to be. Shredding metal he could cut you on. These geeks rarely wanted to be in the ireful wrath of their leader’s disapproval.

“There’s no way you’re dating! It’s a hoax!” Dustin exclaims, loud. Laying his hands on the table in emphasis. Almost rising out his seat.

Eddie flicks those dark eyes to his curly haired companion.

“Alright punk. What about this are you struggling to get through your little head?” He barks out.

“How about, I don’t know, all of it. The fact she’s sat eating here. The fact you’re supposedly dating…” Sinclair lays out.

“Stop putting adverbs and negatives before the word dating.” You scowl at them.

Eddie chuckles, sneers and slings an arm around your shoulders. Looping you right close to him. You’re munching your lunch and smiling as he brings you in closer.

“Is it cause I’m so hot and so so way out of her little arty girl indie state league? I know. Poor baby girl, she can’t help that.” He coos.

You twist your head and his smirk is right there. Would be a shame not to kiss it. You lean in and peck him on the mouth sweetly.

When you pull away the pair of you take great delight in the shock still on their faces.

Eddie nuzzles his nose into your neck to make you squirm. Then he sits there with his chin on your shoulder. Opening his mouth like a little baby bird when he wants you to feed him chips. You do and he bites and sucks on the salty ends of your fingers.

“Seriously Henderson, You couldn’t shell out the amount of money required to fake constantly wrangling this one’s humungous ego.” You pat Eddie’s cheek three times.

“Not the only humungous thing she has to wrangle.” Eddie leers. Does that curling devil tongue at you. Tries to shove his tongue in your ear. You laugh and bat him away.

“No. No. Gross.” Says Mike. Shaking his shaggy head.

“….Plus serious compensation would be required for anyone to sleep in his flea pit of a bedroom.” You tell. Eyes turned down towards your book.

Eddie reached over you with his free hand and pawed at your chip packet for more. Scooped up your sandwich and stole a bite. Extra crispy bacon. Lettuce, Chicken mayo and that spicy mustard he likes- oh he was in love.

“Hey, I tidied it up for you, pencils. I put clean sheets on the bed. Made sure you could see the floor.” He spoke through chewing. Cheeks full. Sucking a glob of mustard off his thumb.

And yet, they’re all sat there looking at you like you’re selling bullshit.

“Alright you little assholes.” You clap and dust your hands off. Some of them actually jump back. Flinching.

Eddies staring at you with literal red bursting heart eyes watching you get irate with his table full of nerds.

You’re sat here all puppy love bundled up with him. Cupid arrow pink kinda gooey love, enshrined with little hearts squished above the i’s. Surrounded by pink ribbons and fucking bluebirds. Mushy love like a damn Carpenter’s song, and you’re so fused together at the hip bones. Like it actually hurts to break apart.

They’re still not buying it.

“What will it take to convince you, that we, are a real thing?” You nudge your thumb at you and Eddie.

They eye you shrewdly. Mike is the first soldier over the top the face the clattering guns.

“What’s his favourite band?” He fires out. Twisting towards you. All elbows and angles and those Wheeler nuclear-family enviable cheekbones.

“Bandsss plural.” You correct. “Metallica, Black Sabbath, Megadeath, Iron Maiden, W.A.S.P, Judas Priest, and Van Halen...”

“Don’t you dare do it.” Eddie warns to that naughty gleam in your eye. “They’ll never look at me the same.”

The guys lean in all interested.

“… And Dolly Parton. Especially Jolene.” They descend into laughing uproar. Eddie throws chips at Sinclair who was cackling.

They were never to know you two hollered along to that at the top of your lungs, on the drive to school in the summertime. Windows open. Hair flying. Shades on. Soupy sunshine and enjoying another cloying Indiana July.

That was the month you’d met this gorgeous creature. Watching fireflies come out laying in the long cool grass at the trailer park, sharing a joint. You in a gossamer sundress the colour of blushing peonies. It was like a way too good fever dream. Hazy days and deep purple sticky summer midnights.

“Favourite food?” Comes the next.

“His favourite meal is a chilli dog, with jalapeño loaded dirty fries with everything, and I mean everything, on it, and one of those strawberry mega monster shake things you get at the diner over on Admiral. He also loves sour candy, like a ridiculous amount. Sour patch kids, nerds, jolly ranchers.”

Eddie who was eating next to you frowned through chewing your sandwich down. The whole thing was nearly gone. Your half was looking pretty tasty too.

“I also know he doesn’t really have a great sense of a varied diet. He won’t eat for hours and then he’ll scarf it down in five seconds like a seagull. Case in point-“ Wave your hand across at him. Like you were presenting him.

“Hey-“ He mumbled. Mouth stuffed with almost all your sandwich.

“All in all, Bottomless void when it comes to food. Runs almost entirely on nicotine and caffeine. Or gas station beef jerky, and out of date mini powdered doughnuts.” You finish.

“Celebrity crush?” Dustin points a finger at you.

“Eartha Kitt. In her skin tight Catwoman costume.” You smile sultrily. “Next?”

“Damn.” Jeff laughed.

“Favourite subject?”

Oh you scoff.

“DND. Obviously. He hates science and math. But he’s actually shockingly good at English. He’s a reader. Reads more comics and fantasy books, than anyone I know. If you can’t find him, guaranteed he’s in the fantasy section.”

“Wow dude, really?” Gareth asks.

Eddie actually blushed.

“It’s actually pretty cute. You know Mrs Coulter, the elderly librarian? Yeah. They exchange Xmas cards. She properly dotes on him. Adorable. Calls him Edward.” You chuckle.

“No way-“ Dustin grins. Giggling. “Edward.” He preens. Cheeks all squidgy with his smile.

Eddie flicks a gaze over at you. It’s almost edgy, but he’s smiling. He’ll remember that- for later on.

“Henderson, I will jam that fork in your eye.”

You overlap the violence and pat the back of your boyfriends hand. Nudge your lunch towards him as a consolation prize.

“He’s just terrible at being forced to read and write stuff. Nonconformer in him really rails against being told what to do.” You lay out nodding.

Cause that was kinda a given where he’s concerned.

“Oh, oh, I know. Favourite movie…” Jeff clicks his fingers at you.

“Friday 13th. The Goonies when he’s stoned out his crazy brain.” You pat Eddie’s head affectionately as you speak.

“Ok those are fairly standard. How about a random trivia round?…” Dustin decides very loudly. Slamming his fist down on the table top. Almost knocking over Mikes can of tab. Jesus Dustin. Watch it man-

You roll your eyes and think. You also shut your book cause you know you won’t be cramming for your English test with the current inquisition going on.

“What does Eddie hate… what are some of his dislikes.”

“Jocks. Uh, He uhm, hates mushrooms on his pizza. Picks the pickles out his burger. He prefers winter to summer. Cuts all the scratchy labels out his clothes cause they annoy the hell out of him. Gets hay fever pretty bad. He thinks playing or watching sports is dull as shit. He can’t stand CCR, or mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“I’m sorry but no ice cream should taste like toothpaste. It’s sick.” Eddie whines.

“He has little scars on his back that he likes to claim are scratches from sex.” You begin.

“Yeah he’s showed those us a lot. It’s sickening.

“Okay, wait til I tell you that he actually got them from falling ass first into my moms rose bush when he was sneaking in through my bedroom window one night.”

“I brought you chicken noodle soup when you were on the very verge of death. Pencils.” Eddie defends.

You turn and catch his pouty little eyes as he leans into you.

“He thinks I don’t know that he sometimes feeds the trailer park strays. Leaves out a can of tuna and bowls of water for them. Has given most of them metal names.”

Holy shit. Eddie makes this face at you like he’s in awe of all the little things you’d grasped about him. Made his stomach feel all slippy and gooey. Yeah. This is definitely love, kid.

“Awhh.”

Eddie snaps his eyes across to his friend who dares make that noise. He picked up the fork closest to him. Shooting feral eyes.

“Oh, He’s named his van.”

“Pencils.” He warns.

“Shut up.” Mike counters. “What is it?”

“Galadriel.” You chirp all sunny.

Dustin looks so happy.

“You’re single handedly ruining my reputation here, honey.”

You lean in and smack a kiss on the end of his nose.

“You have a sex rep I don’t know about, Munson?” You raise one brow. Up in his face about it. That jumper sliding down a silky skinned shoulder he wants to nose at. Call a spade a spade. He wants to bite it. Soothe the bite with his tongue and hear you coo oh, Eddie.

“Not in front of the halflings, Baby. They’re fresh faced and innocent right out the shire.” He dotes at you.

“Hey we’ve seen some shit.” One of them defends

“Not talking about a DND campaign you little pipsqueak.” Eddie smirks.

His hand is sliding around the waistband of your hip. Scooping around your back and pulling you to him. Clutching at his leathered shoulders and your thighs guided sideways over his lap. He snatched you right out your seat.

“Children avert your gaze. Some very 18+ activities are about to happen here.” Eddie warns them as his hands smooth up your jumper. Over your hips and back. He growls when he gets his ring clad fingers clutching your ass through your jeans.

“Ok, I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Buckle up, Pencils.” He whispers into your ear and brushed his tongue over your pulse.

“I’m going for public indecency to prove a point to these assholes.”

Then he seals his lips across yours and pushes his tongue into your mouth, as with any wild Eddie kiss, you melt. You feel his jaw open.

Your spine uncurls and slopes down your body like jello. It’s a movie star kiss that demanded Dolby technicolour and surround sound. A swooning kiss off the silver screen that could curl toes, and bloom whole fields of daisies.

You grasp his hair and reel him in. Kiss him back all spitty and wet to prove a point, and you’re not shy about shoving your tongue in his mouth. He moans.

You scratch his scalp. He sucks your bottom lip like you’re a delicacy. It’s way too much. So filthy. Fucking beautiful is what it is.

Then you feel his wicked, wicked hand pinging dangerously at your bra clasp. Snapping it to your skin. He bites his lip when he pulls back and shoots you those sultry black bedroom eyes.

“This is the one I hate getting off isn’t it? The goddamned purple one.” He says all lusty as he rubs the tip of his nose into yours. Your cheeks are so hot. Blood lava hot pushing in your face.

“You’re a trooper. Munson. You’ll figure it out.” You tell him with a teasing voice that you can feel makes his dick throb under your thighs.

“Can’t wait to get in those panties, later.”

“I’ve got art class after school. Come by around eight. Moms out tonight.” You flirt. Which means takeout, and suffocating, hands wandering, kisses, til you can’t remember which way is up or down. And so much Eddie. It feels like you’ll burst with love of him.

His lips taste like sugary tab and, now, your chapstick. Ash swirls on his breath from his last smoke. He’ll be itching for another one soon. Maybe you’ll sneak away and join him. Make out for the remainder of lunch time.

“Good. I really love it when you can scream loud when I bury my face in your pus-“ You clap your hand over his mouth.

“They don’t need chapter and verse. Baby.”

Eddie responds by licking a big hot stripe up your palm.

“You know, guys, maybe they’re not faking it.”

“Please, people are trying to eat here!”

“I’m definitely gonna barf.”

~

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie my boy #EDDIE DESERVED BETTER #EDDIE MY BELOVED #eddie drabble #wrote this in like half an hour lol #its silly #eddie feels #eddie x reader #eddie x oc #eddie x pencils ride again #love #lovers #fake dating #dustin henderson #welcome to hellfire #hellfire club #mike wheeler #jeff & gareth

[roselyn-writing]

🌼💚Layla Buyunni OC lore 🍀🌳

Name meaning: ‘Night’ in Arabic. ‘Buyuuni’ means ‘The Keeper’ in the old Virginian language

Date of birth: 3rd of September 1440 (in Virginian time and year)

Age: 23 (Youngest Oc so far).

Zodiac sign: Virgo.

Hair: Long straight blonde hair.

Eyes: Green.

Skin tone: Porcelain.

Favourite food: roasted veggies, veggies, broth veggies, omelettes, Chickpea sandwiches, peas quinoa salad.

Least favourite food: Beef, Chicken, Jelly.

Aesthetics: Gardener, librarian, flowers, nature, forests, green aesthetics, plants, cottagecore, greencore.

Favourite colours: Green shades, white, Turquoise, Brown, Gold.

Job: Florist, Librarian.

Likes: Nature, learning new things, animals, quietness, cleanliness, reading books, writing poetry, likes to take care of her plants/flowers, Pixies and fairies, green clothes, green jewels, etc.

Powers: Plant-based powers, psychic abilities. Plant manipulation, Chlorokinesis, slight sound manipulation, Immortality, and Complete control of plant life. Healing magic, Her eyes glow green when she uses her powers, self resurrection, immortality, Hair manipulation (only in Verdant Seraph form)

Items: Eternal Verdant core (Its shape is similar to the heart of Tefiti from Moana, but it is bigger and has a heart-like shape with plant-based runic, etc.) Later, it infused with her soul making her a god-like being.

Hate/dislike: sexism, plant abusers, animal abusers, bigots, racist people, liars, criminals, parents who abuse their children, rude people, people who hate other people for being different, etc, nature abusers, etc.

Pet(s): Layla has a plant-like creature that she made out of her powers and pure essence it is similar to “Bellossom” from Pokemon, She named it ‘Marigold’

Faceclaim: Meghan Ory.

voice claim: Stephanie Sheh (Usagi Tsukino English VA)

Personality: Layla is very shy when she sees new people, but when she gets to know them very well, she won’t be shy with them at all, she talks and interacts freely with them.

"I feel the verdant energy coursing through me, surging like vines in search of life and sustenance. I harness its power and focus my will. The plants around me respond by swaying in rhythm, weaving a thick, green tapestry of life, And I swear by the holiness of nature I will use it for good!" ______ Layla Buyunni’s quote

Her lore is inspired by Anne Jefferies and the fairies but I decided to make it darker and bloodier hehe 😝.

[The Lore] CW: Blood, Death.

Across the north where the wind from the south meets the northern sea of Ma’chilga town as if they were lovers from different parts of the world, There, was a happy little girl called Layla Buyunni, She works as a florist and a caregiver to an old lady called ‘Granny Mira’

Layla is known among the people as a happy and carefree girl, let alone a very beautiful and popular girl in the town too. Every day, she finishes her morning chores in Granny Mira's house then she goes to the market to buy groceries so she can cook and prepare a meal for herself and Granny Mira.

This was her daily routine for years until one day, she was cleaning the backyard with a broom, when she heard a rustling in the bushes, at first she didn’t care at all, she continued to clean the backyard until the rusting became more frequent and annoying, she decided to go and see what is hiding behind the bushes and she saw nothing at all, confused, she decided to head back to the yard and continue cleaning it.

This time, she heard a lot of voices and more rustling in many bushes near her, she was beginning to freak out. She clenched her hands onto the broom as if it were a weapon, she gasped with utter shock when she saw 6 dwarves dressed in green and white garbs coming towards her way. They stopped when they came face-to-face with Layla. They looked at her and smiled.

“Hello, Fair Maiden,” The leader of the dwarves greeted her.

Layla was so shocked that she didn’t reply, she kept looking at them and said nothing, at first, she thought she was dreaming or something. Until one of the dwarves climbed on her feet and she yelped in shock as she backed away from them.

“Worry not, fair maiden,” Their leader said, his tone genuine and soothing, Then six dwarves dressed in green and white outfits came to meet her. They all stood in a row in front of Layla and smiled up at her.

“A-a-a-are you r-real?” Layla finally spoke, she was stuttering and her tone was scared and shy. She was in disbelief, still not believing what she was seeing, she rubbed her eyes with her hands and looked at them and they were still there.

The dwarves laughed at her; They nodded their heads while doing so.

“Of course, we are, fair maiden,” said their leader, It is a dwarf who wore a white hat while the other green ones.

Terrified, she fiercely swung her broom at the dwarves, They dodged her attack and looked at her in complete confusion, Their leader, Mattan, raised her hand at her in indifference so that he could explain the situation to her.

“Layla, stop it!” Mattan declared with a firm tone.

In complete bewilderment, Layla dropped her broom, she lifted a surprised eyebrow “How did you know my name?”

“We know you, but you don’t know us,” came his vague reply.

Layla only blinked twice or thrice at this, she didn’t know what to do or say; Dwarves appearing in your garden isn’t something you see every day or something you can barely process. Layla swallowed hard, trying her hardest to understand the situation she was in.

“Okay? And what do you want?” Layla inquired.

Mattan stepped closer, he gently raised his hand and touched the hem of her dress. He didn’t say anything in the least, He only did some hand gestures. A thick white fog like a cloud in a clear sky enveloped them and in fear, Layla covered her eyes.

It didn’t take long for Layla to take her hands from her eyes and see what happened. She is in a different place now – a jungle — a forest, She is in a forest-like place, full of thick trees and green grass. As if she is in a perfect forest in some fairytale.

The dwarves started to walk and Layla trotted behind them. Mattan was talking about the history of this glorious forest while Layla was eagerly looking around the place. She smiled as he mentioned something about ‘willow trees’ she loves them so much.

In a flash, Mattan and his dwarves came to a halt, Mattan looked directly into Layla’s eyes as he pointed a finger at her.

“Layla, You are the daughter of the mother forest,” Mattan announced suddenly.

Layla, bewildered at his claim, she calmly shook her head. “No sir, I’m no such thing,” She replied.

Mattan, still determined to prove himself right. “You are!” He said determinedly.

Layla shook her head. “No, Sir.”

“You are!”

“No, Sir.”

Mattan breathed to calm himself. Layla is as stubborn as a mule to accept the truth.

Mattan sat on a big rock. “Haven’t you asked yourself, where are your parents?” Mattan asked.

Layla’s eyes fixed on him. “I have, many times to count,” She said in a quiet tone.

“Both of your parents are gone, sadly,” Mattan told her, his tone is soft and mild. He paused then after long moments. “But, You must know your heritage, You are a verdant, a being of the forest and we need to protect you until you grow up into a powerful Sylvan!”

The dwarves nodded as they looked at Layla.

Layla was still in disbelief and she refused to believe any of this. “No, I’m no such thing.”

Suddenly, five dark creatures rushed towards Layla but Mattan easily blocked their path from Layla.

Layla gasped in utter shock and horror. From the look of them, they are dark dwarves, evil beings of chaos and evil. They are dressed in black and red clothes and they carry axes with them.

Mattan looked at Layla, He used his abilities to transported her back to her home. Layla was thankful to him for saving her life.

After days of this event, Layla discovered that she has some abilities, she can grow plants, flowers and everything that is plant-based. She told Granny Mira and the latter was shocked and scared.

“Please, Do not let the king know of this!” Granny Mira begged.

“Why?” Layla asked innocently.

Granny Mira breathed. “He hates magic, Because ‘magic’ is the reason for his wife's death,” She answered then she paused as if to remember what she was going to say. “Also, He will punish anyone that is doing magic or complicit in it!”

Layla was shocked, she didn’t know about this at all. No one in town said such a thing about magic.

“Okay, I got it,” Layla muttered as her head hunged down.

She was so happy about her gift, she wanted to help everyone and make their life easier, but now? She has to keep her gift a secret or everyone she knows will suffer.

Layla decided to look at the bright side. Granny Mira is right, she needed to keep this secret. Because if not: everyone she cares about is threatened with death. She decided to use her gift in secret and she won’t tell anyone about it except for Granny Mira, she already knows.

Days go by, and the dwarves finally come again to see Layla and to talk with her. They brought with them food and bread.

They sat in Layla’s room and surprised her. Layla smiled at them, it was the first time she smiled at them and she greeted them.

“Hello, Friends,” she greeted them happily.

The dwarves smiled and greeted her too, both were happy about their friendship. They decided to celebrate at little and the food they brought.

Layla took a bite of the bread, it was delicious and sweet, It was as if angels were singing in her mouth, she never tasted something as delicious as this. She thanked them for the food, she ate slowly and with manners, savouring every taste of it.

“This, this is delicious!” Layla spoke after she swallowed the bread.

“Glad you like it, It is called fairy bread,” Mattan exclaimed happily.

Then, The dwarves left, they brought with them so much food that Layla decided to put it on the hall table.

Later that day, Granny Mira invited her other friends, who were all older women just like her, she offered them the food that the dwarves brought to Layla. They took a bite of it and they were happy, they were praising Granny Mira for the delicious food she offered to them.

“This is delicious!”

“I have never ever tasted something like this!”

“This is out of this world!”

Granny Mira's smile flickered with a hint of bewilderment as she listened to their enthusiastic claims about the bread. Doubt crept into her mind, but curiosity got the better of her, with a determined nod, she reached for a piece and brought it to her lips. The moment she took a bite, her eyes widened in astonishment. The flavours exploded on her tongue, sending waves of delight through her senses. In a frenzy of hunger, she devoured the rest of the bread, savouring every delectable morsel as if she were a ravenous beast.

All her friends nodded. “See?” They chuckled at her display of hunger.

Granny Mira chuckled in agreement. She was embarrassed by her own inability to control herself. She is a well-mannered lady and she must show it.

When Granny Mira's friends left. She told Layla about the delicious bread and the food that was on the table, she laughed at how her friends, devoured it all, as if they were starving for days.

Layla smiled at this, she was happy but she was a little concerned since Granny Mira mentioned they ate the food that the dwarves gave her, and she was terrified that her caregiver friends would ask more of that food.

“Wellness, Granny,” Layla chuckled, trying her hardest to push her nervousness and concern away.

“You made it right? You always make delicious food,” Granny

Layla sighed. “No, I didn’t make it,” she confessed.

Granny blinked her eyes in pure confusion. “Y-you didn’t make it? Then who?”

Layla sat on the sofa. She looked at Granny and smiled “The fairies, or the dwarves, whatever they were,” she shrugged her shoulders. She was nonchalant and she didn’t know why.

“Layla, Tell me the truth,” Granny said as she sat beside her on the sofa.

“I told you the truth, It was the dwarves who made it for me.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It is the truth!”

Granny crossed her arms. “Layla! There are no such things as ‘fairies’ or ‘dwarves’”

“Fine! You want me to prove it to you?” Layla stated as she got to her feet and went to a different spot in the room and she started to move her hands as if to summon a paranormal creature.

It didn’t take long as a green glow sparkled in the room and six figures emerged from it. They were short and dwarves-like, unlike dwarves who were known for their green skin and ugly features, these dwarves had fair skin tones and good-looking facial features.

Granny placed her hands on her lips in pure astonishment. “Oh my! You are right! They are real.”

“See?” Layla grinned at her.

Granny Mira nodded and smiled. “Of course, But you must not tell the people about them Let alone the King,” Granny declared.

Layla nodded at her. “Of course, Granny.”

Times go by, and The dwarves continue to visit Layla and bring food for her, Granny’s guests enjoy the food and tell Granny how talented her daughter is for making the food, They were unaware of the dwarves or the fairies or even of Layla’s new gifts.

Unfortunately, One day, one of the King’s advisors heard some voices in the house of Layla and her Granny, They weren’t human and they didn’t belong to Layla or Granny, He heard of local stories of witches and glowing creatures, etc; he decided to take a permit to investigate the house.

He took a permit and he is heading to investigate Layla’s house. He saw things, He didn’t wish to make accusations without evidence.

Layla and Granny welcomed the King’s advisor. At first, He didn’t find anything regarding the ‘witches’ or ‘the glowing creatures’ that he heard or saw.

Unbeknownst to Layla or Granny, The King’s guards were awaiting the advisor's word so they could enter and capture Layla and Granny. but he didn’t give his signal at all.

The King’s advisor still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the house. He is still looking for clues and he sees glowing green spots on the floor. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Layla and her Granny.

“Oh, that? That is some rare herbs I found deep in the forest!” Layla lied. She smiled as she looked him in the eye.

The King's advisor nodded. He didn’t know that it was a lie, her tone was genuine and sincere. and her body language didn’t show nervousness or lack of expression.

But the unexpected happened and one of the dwarves blew his cover as he fell from one of the top drawers of the kitchen.

The King’s advisor looked at Layla and Granny, He immediately lifted his finger and gave a signal towards the King’s guards. They came by kicking the door open and arrested Granny and Layla.

“Please! Please let us go!” Layla begged. “It is not what you think!”

His reply was a slap to her left cheek as he looked at her with disgust. “Silence! You witch!”

The guards took Layla and Granny to the King’s Yard for judgment.

At this moment, Hadi and Arouj were walking around the town, They heard people talking about a girl named Layla and her Granny, and that they were accused of witchcraft and magic.

Hadi’s interest was piqued by this. He knew there was more than meet the eye, He decided to do a rescue mission for Layla and her Granny, So, He pulled Arouj’s hand and they were running towards the King’s yard.

By the time Hadi and Arouj reached the place, the judge had said his final verdict and he saw Layla and her Granny were tied and ready to be executed.

His hand already glowed with green magic, With a snap of his fingers, the ropes on Layla and her Granny loosened, Layla quickly saw her chance and used her chlorokinesis, she shot out her palms, Thick hard vines curled themselves around the guards’ ankles and they were thrown away as if they were stones thrown by a catapult.

People gasped with horror and shock. They were scared of Layla’s powers, They ran at the sight of it. The King ordered his guards to kill Layla and The Granny.

So far, The King’s guards couldn’t get closer to Layla at all, until the King himself took Granny by surprise and killed her by decapitating her head with his sword. Layla gasped in shock and anger. The King’s sword is coated with blood, her Granny’s blood, She used her Chlorokinesis once again, she killed all the guards as her ravenous and scary monster plants killed the complicit in her Granny’s death.

Hadi magically pushed the guards away while Arouj used his lashers to kill them quickly, He didn’t want to but they forced his hands.

Layla growled with anger as she shot her palm against the king and his remaining guards. She commanded the ravenous vines to attack the evil King and his guards.

The King fought for his life till the end, But Layla decided to finish him quickly, One of Layla’s plant vines pierced him his heart, He yelled and gurgled as he placed his hand on his heart as if he was trying to lessen the pain but he couldn’t and died.

Hadi decided to intervene now. He slowly and carefully walked towards Layla. “We need to go,” He said urgently.

She smiled at him and nodded. “Let us go.”

Layla, Hadi and Arouj left the town, Hadi’s hands wreathed in a green glow as he conjured a portal to his home. Layla, Arouj and Hadi entered the portal before they were followed by the King’s guards.

Layla thanked Hadi for saving her and offering her a new place to stay, one where she could freely express herself and be herself.

She knew that she had fallen in love with Hadi Because he was the only guy who didn’t look at her as the guys would. He saw her as a friend and a great one. Layla fell in love with him and she likes him.

Aliyaa, Hadi and Arouj welcomed Layla and thus she stayed with them, as her new family. Layla also decided to look for answers about who she is and what happend to her parents.

#Roselyn writes #Roselyn posts #Roselyn speaks #Roselyn OCs #Layla Buyunni #oc community #oc lore #oc bio #oc story #oc backstory #oc biography #original character #amwriting #creative writing #writing #fiction #i’m writing #writer #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers #oc writing #oc #The Nature Nymph #The EarthChild #The Nature Spirit #The NatureChild #The Heart of Nature #oc creation

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄

❝ Audrey Beiste was absolutely no stranger to bullying or how cruel other people could be. Having lived with her aunt Shannon, known to most others as Coach Beiste, since she was seven and her father had gone to jail, she had always known very well what other people thought of her and the only family she really had. She had heard people mocking her aunt for the way she looked and sounded, calling her every single mean name in the book and, when it was adults who were doing the insulting, only smiling condescendingly when young Audrey had attempted to stick up for her auntie. And Audrey herself was no stranger to taunts and insults, either; she’d been being bullied for her size since she could remember, mocked with loud pig snorts or yelled suggestions to eat a salad almost every time she walked down the school halls.

She’d never let it affect her, however, at least not the cruel words directed at her; Audrey was the kind of person to always choose kindness and sunshine, and she did her best to honor that principle, constantly having a sweet smile on her face and a positive comment on her lips, even when those around her rolled their eyes at it and went right back to insulting her. The only pain or anger she ever allowed herself to show, outside of defending her aunt against people who were old enough to know better than to be so rude, was in the pages of her songwriting notebook, in the lyrics she spent most of her free time jotting down and singing out loud to make sure they sounded right. She put her pain into those lyrics and kept the notebook that housed them close to her heart, knowing in her soul that one day she would turn them into actual songs that could be used to prove wrong all the bullies that had told her she would never amount to anything.

When her aunt decides to take a job offer to coach a struggling football team in Ohio, Audrey hopes for a fresh start, a place where she and her aunt can begin again away from those who tormented them. But her illusions of the grass being greener in Lima are quickly shattered when she starts attending McKinley High - a fatphobic word painted on her new locker and a slushy in her face ruining one of her favorite sweaters will do that to a person. Desperately trying to find a place where she can be free of judgement, Audrey auditions to join the school’s glee club, and there she finds a great deal of drama and divas, but also a group of people who love music as much as she does and who accept her as she is, because they’re all freaks in the eyes of the rest of the school, after all.

However, it’s also there that Audrey quickly develops a crush on one Finn Hudson, an awkward football player with a heart of gold, and the first boy who’s ever called Audrey pretty. But of course, there’s also the issue of Finn already having a girlfriend as well as a complicated relationship with his cheerleader ex, and anyway, someone like him would never go for someone like Audrey, even if they’re part of the same chaotic, unusual found family… right? ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @oneirataxia-girl, @ocappreciationtag.

#my ocs #introducing my ocs #ch: audrey beiste #oc: audrey beiste #fic: cardigan #queerocs #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahgleeocs #glee oc #finally making a finn love interest!! #all of my ‘glee’ girlies may cheer now

[buckybarnesss]

on fire: a teen wolf novel chapters 4-6 chapters 1-3 here

cox communications doesn't respect 3rd shift workers so last night i had to go into my brick and mortar office. i was able to get a lot of reading done but due to rules and regulations i was unable to write down my thoughts as i went. instead i used those little sticky note tabs to mark passages of interest so that's why this post took a little bit longer as i had to review what i had marked.

anyway.

our national nightmare continues.

ngl this book is weird. it's bizarro season 1.

it's non-canon compliant post-episode 5 the tell. i genuinely do not understand why they just didn't tap nancy holder to write a novelization of season 1.

warning: kate argent's existence and general grossness.

so buckle up buttercups here's a preview of what's to come:

we start this chapter from kate's point of view and it makes me feel dirty already. cast it into the fire, isildur. she’s just vile. just look at these nauseating quotes that she has all within the first page: 

“nothing beat the feel of cold, hard steel -- unless it was the rippling muscles of a well-built man.”

this bitch.

”god, all those muscles. the last time she’d seen him, he’d still been in high school. still a kid. a stupid, gullible kid, who should have died in the hale house fire along with the rest of his family.”

tell me again how the intention wasn't for derek to have been a minor when kate was grooming him? tell me fucking again.

“maybe she should’ve taken advantage of derek while he’d been down on the floor, writhing from the nine hundred thousand volts she’d sent skittering though his kick-ass body. for old time’s sake.”

chris and victoria are there too, being way more normal about things. they brought egg salad and cold cuts which feels like it’s hitting the beat where victoria comes in with cookies in the show. 

despite having grounded allison for her skipping school with scott on her birthday they are perfectly fine with her having not only a study date with lydia but allowing her to sleep over. it’s apparently to cover the arrival of a shipment of weapons. kate isn’t impressed that they’re still hiding everything from allison and disappointed there isn’t some super-special weapon in the shipment. 

this entire time she’s being weird and kind of sexual about an uzi. like, fuck off kate. 

now we’re back to scott and allison at the seedy motel plot where they are trying to locate jackson. “scott’s first instinct was to throw his arms around allison and duck, but she yanked the door open and barreled inside the motel like a superhero.”  uou are goddamn right, scott. that is ally a. 

the motel is basically an off the books brothel. one of the patrons supposedly saw something in one of the windows when he went open it for a smoke but saw something that scared him causing a heart attack. allison and scott ask a few people if they’ve seen jackson then have to book it when sheriff stilinski shows up.  these two idiots duck down in her car. i think we see stiles and scott do this a few times in the show.

lydia calls allison freaked out that she hadn’t called her back yet and harkens back to the tell by saying “a....window?” when they tell her about the man having a heart attack and scott describes her as sounding odd. i appreciate that lydia's trauma isn't being ignored because that just happened to her in the tell.

all this use of the generic where’s my phone app and using conference calls to sneak around feels like an adaptation of the plot beat in wolf’s bane.

the sterek agenda continues. derek and stiles spend a significant portion of the coming chapters together much like they do in the back half of season 1. it starts with the possible origin of the derek being in stiles’s room trope. stiles muses over the text he’d received from scott about the incident at the motel and as if being summoned derek is just suddenly there in his room. look at this bullshit:

he texted back, muttering, “so, scott, saw what? saw derek?” “yes?” derek said from behind him. “yeaoww!” stiles shouted. he turned around to find derek leaning against the wall. he did that on an irritatingly frequent basis, both at scott’s house and casa stilinski. he was wearing his black leather jacket and he looked especially pouty and broody. “could you not do that anymore? it is so not cool.”

irritatingly frequent basis? how many times has derek randomly appeared in your room stiles? and i’m sorry “especially pouty and broody”? what a totally super casual observation that is.

it gets even better. derek questions what scott is doing and stiles deadass answers “doin’ stuff.” which naturally irritates derek and derek requests stiles tell scott he wants to meet him. they’re interrupted by the sheriff calling for stiles to which we get:

“gotta go get that.” Stiles pointedly shut down his desktop -- Derek actually growled -- and slid his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “don’t touch anything.”

derek why are you growling? weirdo.

stiles talks to his dad and probes for information about the motel guy and they discuss his homework. it's actually a pretty great conversation between the two and pretty much the only time it occurs in the book.

there’s a mention of stiles’s mother and the sheriff asks stiles if he’s taken his adderall that day. so again, clearly whatever notes holder received very much indicated stiles's ADHD.

back in stiles’s room we get derek pointedly having ignored stiles’s directive to not touch anything: “he zoomed back into his room to find derek clacking away on his computer keyboard.” and “hey,” he said. “keep your paws off.” derek gave him one of his trademark sour glares.” this just continues to confirm for me that holder received some kind of outline of character and plot beats. casa stilinski? sour glares? derek and stiles doing investigative work and going to a hospital? stiles having a low key bisexual crisis over derek? it’s all there. i mean bro look at this:

“look,” derek leaned toward him and the hairs on the back of stiles’s neck stood straight up.”

and the banter:

“but don’t do anything wolfy in my jeep,” he said, opening his door and peering into the hallway. the coast was clear. “like stick our head out the window to let your tongue hang out --” “shut up,” derek said. 

here's another werewolf moment i find rather intriguing. scott and allison have made it to the preserve by this point still hot on the trail of jackson who lydia had told them was somewhere in the preserve. scott has a moment where in his mind he hears the how of a wolf. it says “an echo inside an echo” and “one wolf calling to another. seeking the pack.” that's pretty cool and it's not something shows up in the show.

jackson has finally arrived. i miss this asshole. he's in the woods being pissy about meeting the private investigator that had left him a note and a picture of his supposed biological father.

jackson’s perspective on what happened in magic bullet is just [chef’s kiss]. he refers to derek as scott’s drug dealer.

“mccall’s creepy drug dealer had shown up at school. when jackson had stood up to him, he’d grabbed him by the neck, and, like, gouged him with his fingernails.”

in jackson’s narration something caught my eye. “things had been fine before the start of the school year. Then it was almost as if McCall had concocted some kind of scheme over the summer to ruin his life.” so not only is this book an AU of season 1, the time frame seems off. the show starts the first day after their winter break in january. wolf moon takes place during the episode. the book places this before wolf moon has occurred which comes up later in derek’s narration. 

 this is such a good line and is a window into jackson’s mentality: “everyone wanted something jackson had. it was usually money or popularity. the secret? they were exactly the same thing.”

allison and scott are still in the woods. they’ve been kissing for a while but then they run into a wolf. they are really so soppy in this book and it's both accurate and annoying. allison is awed and scott is quietly panicking. allison goes on about how she thought it was beautiful and scott’s mind wonders if he’ll ever turn into a wolf like how Laura did. which, lol, no baby because you never make peace fully with being a werewolf. 

annnnd we’re back to the stiles and derek plot line. they’re playing dress up. i kid you not. these two are pulling a dean and sam. 

“my new best friend and i are at the hospital.” stiles said, twirling the listening end of a stethoscope in a little circle. so far he’d been unable to hypnotize derek with it.

there’s another small dig about derek not being a real person in stiles’s narration. this book hates derek, okay but i have a lo more on that later. for now these two idiots infiltrated the hospital by pulling the old stand by of Looking Important. stiles has a conversation with scott which is invoking wolf’s bane so hard:

“and you’ll never guess what. you can get past hospital security if you steal a white coat out of the storage room and parade around with it and a clipboard.” derek grunted. he was the one holding the clipboard, but he had passed on wearing a lab coat.”

stiles continues his observations of derek like the freak4freak he is:

“stiles covered the phone, “he can’t talk about wolfie matters,” he reported back to derek.  “because he’s with her,” derek said, looking even more dour than usual. stiles had never realized there were so many degrees of the brood until derek hale came into their lives.”

there’s a bit of back and forth regarding scott reporting that he and allison saw an actual wolf. derek’s disbelieving and cranky to which stiles ponders this totally normal thought:

“maybe if he gave derek a sugar cube -- or threw him a piece of raw meat -- derek might cheer up. stiles would have to try that someday. but today wasn’t looking good for that.”

derek then snatches stiles’s phone to question scott’s whereabouts. he is still cranky. meanwhile stiles is reading derek’s body language and it’s way too detailed for a normal person. like, stiles no one cares derek’s hand is in his jacket pocket while he grumps at scott and emphasizes “like always”. stiles how hard have you been watching derek? he may have complained about derek showing up in his room unnaounced but he's like

before we get into derek’s narration which ooh boy guys you aren’t ready. stiles and derek have their classic bickering-bantering some more. 

derek’s insisting stiles take him to the preserve so he can scent scott out. stiles is appalled and is like “oh my god derek you weirdo there’s an app for that.” and gets a little red riding hood dig in.

derek refuses to admit stiles has a point but orders stiles to give him his phone. stiles all but says Fuck You No and derek brings out his oldie but goodie:

“tell me or i’ll rip your throat out.” 

stiles probably thinks “don’t threaten me with a good time” but instead he says that he knows derek’s not telling him everything and insists he’s going with derek to find scott. 

it ends on this exchange:

“all right,” he said, “but we’ll take your jeep.” stiles huffed. “why can’t we ever take your car?” 

alas the camero. we barely knew her.

now we switch to derek’s point of view to narrate and so begins a piece of characterization that i don’t like, isn’t actually accurate to the character at any point in the series and frankly chaps my ass. i’m just going to give you all the paragraph as a whole.

“hey, you have to take me with you.,” scott’s annoying little sidekick insisted as derek stalked out of the hospital. derek took a tiny bit of satisfaction in the way the human had to trot along to stay abreast. he was sick to death of taking the weakness of humans into account while formulating his plans. de respected power, and few humans had any.”

besties, this book may very well be the origin of Derek Thinks Humans Are Weak trope. now, i’m sure some of you are like heather aren’t you perhaps being a tad dramatic? 

no. no i’m not. at first i considered this might be because of derek’s experience with kate. it would make sense that perhaps based off the information holder had that derek might be wary but than this fucker drops this line:

“werewolves didn’t share information with humans, ever.”

but he follows this thought with this:

“except for him, derek hale. he had shared information with a human. he hadn’t meant to. and the results had been disastrous.”

i will definitely get into more detail about this attitude he has because it really comes out in some later chapters because ooooh boy y’all ain’t prepared for the nonsense ahead. in actual canon derek never behaves this way or express this kind of opinion about humans. it stands out starkly in contrast to the episode this moment is paralleling in wolf’s bane. derek thinks stiles is annoying but not because he’s human. 

we end this chapter on jackson’s point of view. de had met with the so-called private investigator and they tit-for-tatted and jackson bolted when he sensed danger in the woods. now he’s lost in the woods. he’s scared, doesn’t want to admit it and sends a text to lydia.

it's here in these chapters where i realized that the character of deaton is missing entirely. since all of season 1's plot past the tell is omitted deaton's significance went with it.

also the mystery of the alpha is present but she's unable to really do anything with it so peter's presence is still regulated to comatose burn victim.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #teen wolf #on fire: a teen wolf novel #sterek #or the teen wolf AU #heather reads #kate argent is her own trigger warning

[mac-lilly]

@galentir & @wolfpats YOU TWO REALLY NAILED THIS, HUH?!

Fascinating. Really, really fascinating. *boop boop* 🐾

2.) What's your feel-good movie?

Kimi no Na wa (or Your Name) is one of my favorite movies. Like yes, it makes me bawl my eyes out. But in such a satisfying way. The characters hit the final dialogue, and the last song starts to play, and I'm just ... my soul is at peace. 

Also, Dieses bescheuerte Herz (This Crazy Heart, which is apparently the official English translation... huh, interesting) is just such a good comfort movie. It makes me laugh. It makes me cry. It's just so good. 

10.) What's something you're excited for?

JAPAN!!! 🤩

I'm going to Japan in October for 3.5 weeks, and I'm so freaking excited. It's been a dream for so long. But it always got postponed due to Covid. But now the flights are booked, and we have our hotels, and the schedule is done. I literally have a counter on my phone's home screen to tell me how many days are left. (Still 170 days left ...)

30.) What reminds you of home (doesn't have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

Hm, never really thought about it. Honestly, I don't know. My cats make me feel at home. But they do not particularly remind me of home. Maybe when I cook or bake my grandparents' recipes - like my one grandma's potato salad or my other grandma's Stachelbeertorte. So, yeah, most likely food I used to eat as a kid. 

Thank you girls! Feel booped! 🐾

#personal

[abramsbooks]

RECIPE: Beets, Tomatoes, and Cilantro (from Salad Freak by Jess Damuck)

Sarah Carey (the food director at Martha Stewart, formerly my boss, always my second mom) introduced me to this flavor combination. I think she’s single-handedly proved to me that adding cilantro to any combination of vegetables is not only delicious, but feels fresh and revelatory every time it’s done.

This recipe is a perfect way to savor that sweet spot at the end of summer and the beginning of fall when the nights start to get cooler and the last of the juicy tomatoes are plentiful at the market. Get greedy. Buy more than you think you need, or scramble to save the ones left in your garden before the first frost. Serve this with a simple steak or roasted chicken, or eat it alone until there are no more tomatoes left to eat.

PRODUCE

2 bunches red or yellow beets (about 9 medium)

3 to 4 large heirloom tomatoes

1 pint (280 g) cherry tomatoes

½ cup (15 g) fresh cilantro leaves

PANTRY

Extra-virgin olive oil (this is a great time to use your fancy oil)

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Flaky salt

COOK: Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).

Roast 2 bunches trimmed beets in foil packets with oil and kosher salt and pepper for about 60 minutes.

PREP: I recommend using a plastic cutting board that can be easily washed for this part. Also, if you have a pair of latex gloves handy, you could wear them to keep your hands from getting stained. If you have different-colored beets, you’ll want to keep them separate. Using a paper towel, rub the skins gently to remove them—they should come off quite easily. Clean up your mess and then thinly slice 2 bunches red or yellow beets.

Thinly slice 3 to 4 large heirloom tomatoes and slice 1 pint (280 g) cherry tomatoes in half.

ASSEMBLE AND SERVE: Arrange the beets and tomatoes on plates or a platter. Drizzle with oil. Sprinkle with the cilantro leaves and a little black pepper and flaky salt.

STYLING TIP This is a great time to showcase a variety of tomatoes. Different colors, shapes, and sizes transform this dish into something really striking and completely irresistible—the more the merrier.

One of TIME’s most anticipated cookbooks of Spring 2022

One of Food & Wine’s best cookbooks of Spring 2022

A USA TODAY and PUBLISHERS WEEKLY bestseller!

Delicious and beautiful recipes from Martha Stewart’s personal salad chef and the self-proclaimed “Bob Ross of salads.”

Offering more than 100 inspired recipes, recipe developer and food stylist Jess Damuck shares her passion for making truly delicious salads. Salad Freak encourages readers to discover and embrace their own salad obsessions. With the right recipes, you will want to eat salad for every meal and never get bored. By playfully combining color, texture, shape, and, of course, flavor, Damuck demonstrates how a little extra effort in the kitchen can be meditative, delicious, and fun. The recipes—such as her Citrus Breakfast Salad; Tea-Smoked Chicken and Bitter Greens Salad; Caesar Salad Pizza Salad; and Roasted Grapes, Ricotta, Croutons, and Endive Salad—are meant to be hearty enough for a meal all year round but versatile enough to be incorporated into a larger menu. For Damuck, the perfect salad balances each bite, with something tart enough to twinge your cheeks, something sweet to balance out the bitter, and something with a little salty crunch to finish. Salad Freak is not just about eating to feel good; it’s about confidently combining flavors to create fresh, bright, and satisfying meals that you will want to make again and again.

For more information, click here.

#abramsbooks #abrams books #salad freak #salad freak book #salad recipes #summer produce #free recipe #recipe

[bee-barnes-author]

Writing Share Game

tagged by: @tabswrites

tagging: @johnna-oneal-trash-writer @jezwrites @milkhoney531 @violeaes

fuck it, here's the ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER of my upcoming book, 'THE BEAST IN THE GLASS HOUSE'.

Anticipated release June 10 2025

Trigger Warnings: Misogyny, gore, body horror, graphic descriptions of murder and violence, abuse through controlling food, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, allegorical rape, abuse of bodily autonomy, rape revenge.

Chapter 1

June

The first time I see you, I fall in love instantly. At the butcher's counter, ignorant to my stare at your back, you ask the clerk, “Can I get a pound and a half of ground beef? Ten percent fat, please.” I can’t pinpoint what it is about you exactly, but I can’t look away.

I’m not finished shopping, nowhere near, but when you take your cart to the cashier, I can’t help but follow along. There’s two couples and their full carts between us, giving me cover so I can watch you. You’re careless with your personal information, and say your phone number out loud instead of typing it into the pin pad. Thanks, in part, to my condition, I have a fantastic memory. This means I don’t need to scramble for a pen to write your number on the back of my hand. 

I pay for the rosemary sprigs and half dozen eggs that are in my cart, and make my way to the parking lot. If you’re still here, I can catch your license plate tag, too, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself by rushing outside. A small part of my brain wonders why I’m so immediately connected to you. It’s not your looks that stole my breath away, though you aren’t lacking in that department by any means.

It’s something about your spirit. Something about the way your energy rolls off of you in waves, and crashes carelessly through others. I swallow down an eager, “Aha!” when I spot you in the parking lot, half folded into the trunk of a white Subaru. You deposit your armload of groceries, straighten, and close the trunk.

The way the sun glints off your hair stops me in my tracks. Then it hits me. You’re my mate. Oh. Of course you are. Finally. I’m on the older end of thirty. Until now, it felt like I would never find my perfect other half. I’m so stunned by the realization that I forget to note your plates as you drive by.

I know how that sounds, okay? It’s not like that—I’m not a freak with ill intent. I am simply a man in love, who has access to a wide variety of resources. One of those resources is a man named Mister Chance. He finds people for me. I don't ask how he does it; I don’t care either. All that matters is that he gets fast results and covers his tracks.

Instead of going back inside the grocery store to get the salmon filets I had originally planned on picking up, I go to my car. Once I’m home, I make two calls. One to Mister Chance and the other to a nearby sushi restaurant. I order a deconstructed sushi bowl with an extra serving of seaweed salad and a large side of fried calamari. My personal chef is off for the evening. I promised Elijah he could enjoy his date without interruption, and I intend to uphold my commitment. 

Mister Chance is quick. Faster than the delivery boy on his moped. I’ve learned your name before I even have my chopsticks cracked open. Freya Moore. It sounds like an alias but Chance promises it’s God-given.

I have your address. The numbers dance across the computer screen as I stare. According to the map, you’re just over thirty minutes away by car. It takes every ounce of restraint I have to stop myself from going to your home right now. I want to discard my dinner and wait outside your window with a boombox like a love-struck idiot.

But I don’t. I eat my dinner and listen to Mister Chance tell me about you. You’re young, but that can’t be helped. Love is love and you’re, quite literally, my soulmate. Fortunately, twenty-two is a perfectly legal age for me to date publicly. I’ll learn to ignore the inevitable ribbing I’m to get from Elijah. Anyone seriously bothered by the age gap can fuck off, for all I care.

Sushi bowl in hand, I pace the length of my third-floor bedroom. My skin itches like it’s the night before the full moon. It’s been a long, long time since I had to battle for control over my instincts like this. I feel like a teenager again. Every nerve inside me screams at the distance between us. I need to be close to you.

My mind keeps rushing to catastrophic disasters that you could suffer while away from the safety I offer. Dozens of irrational scenarios that I can’t stop conjuring. Are you giving me an anxiety disorder, Freya? Is this what loving you feels like? I take a moment to pity your ex’s before I wish death upon them for touching you. No one will touch you but me from now on.

The only exception will be our children. A thrill sings down my spine at the thought. You will rebuild my pack. My perfect human mate. We’ll be the pride of the west coast again. An exemplary family that lycans across the nation will look up to.

My phone beeps. Mister Chance follows up our phone call with an email detailing everything we already discussed and much, much more. Including your work schedule, a digital clone of your phone so I can see everything you do on it as you do it, and access to your desktop computer if I want it. Hell, I can even sit in on your therapy appointments. I shoot a message to my assistant to let him know I won’t be in the office tomorrow.

I’ll be busy learning about you.

I finish dinner reading through medical files from your childhood. You had a suspicious amount of broken bones and emergency room visits all chalked up to youthful clumsiness. Apparently, you grew into your limbs and developed grace around fourteen because those visits stopped. Coincidentally, that was also around the time your father died from taking a nasty tumble down the stairs. They found no signs of foul play. Good for you.

For the moment, I set thoughts of you aside and go take a shower. I do my usual thorough routine, not skipping a step. I’m in no rush. Unless I’ve got a woman with me, I only take cold showers. Men like me, we run hot. Things get sweaty, so I take two showers a day to avoid stinking.

I crawl between my sheets with a smile on my face. Tomorrow, after breakfast, I’ll take a drive to see you.

Goodnight, darling.

***

The next day, blinking against the harsh morning sun even behind my sunglasses, I stand across the street from your place. There’s a Starbucks within eyeshot of your apartment building. I stop by for a black coffee. Of course I pay with cash. The timestamps on your bank statements imply that this is the place you get your morning brew when you’re in the mood for something more complex than black coffee and almond milk creamer.

You’re already two hours deep into your workday at the costume shop by the time I take my first sip. It’s not good but not bad either. I’ve just had better. My machine at home makes a much better cup. 

I’m waiting for your roommate to leave while I read about her on my phone. Cindi Song—twenty-one, about to turn twenty-two in a few weeks—a full-time waitress in a full-time sports medicine program. A hard worker if ever there was one. I appreciate people with work ethics like Cindi’s. Her file mentions she’s in daily contact with her mother. Her mother also regularly sends you two small gifts she finds while online shopping.

I hear the barista's stomach digesting her breakfast. Gas bubbles in her gut. The sound travels like rocks through a tunnel, but I’m the only one that can hear it. Phlegm crackles in the throat of the old woman ordering her drink. The smell of the burned milk invades my nostrils and I take my not-good-not-bad cup of coffee with me to sit out in the sun. Ever since I saw you, my senses have heightened to a painful degree, like I’m subconsciously straining to find you at all times. I feel raw and on-edge. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit about the mild noise inside the shop, but you’ve knocked me off balance.

Before long, Cindi opens the front door to your shared apartment. She’s in form-fitting athleisure wear with her big backpack protruding over both of her shoulders. She’s pulled her shiny black hair up into a high ponytail that bounces rhythmically as she jogs to her car.

I wait twenty minutes before I get up, toss my mostly full cup in the garbage, and jog off in the opposite direction that Cindi drove. A full block down, I cross the street, then make my way through the back of the complex to your unit. Casually, I walk to the sliding glass door on your patio and test the lock. It doesn’t budge. Good. At least you’re smart enough not to leave this unsecured.

It’s easy for me to grasp the handle with one hand, and grip the opposite edge of the glass with the other. Then all I have to do is lift it and wiggle it for a moment. I glance around as the lock pops open to make sure there aren’t any eyes on me. As far as I can tell, I’m in the clear, so I slip inside and slide the door shut behind me. Blinds and curtains closed, I’m left in a dark living room.

Even from out here, it’s easy to tell which room is yours. I recognize your scent from the dozens I came across at the grocery store yesterday. Your sweat smells like onions and musk. I love onions. Your room is tidy, but could still use a good dusting. I spy your bed pressed against the far wall. It’s dressed with a set of spring green sheets and a canary yellow blanket.

You have two pillows, and a giant stuffed husky dog resting at the top of the bed. Laundry detergent wafts up from the cotton sheets. It’s clear you washed your bedding in the past few days. I sit on the edge of your mattress and take the room in. You have two bookshelves. One is chock full of novels, mostly fantasies and thrillers. You’ve organized them by color. You stuffed the second bookcase with manga, and different gaming devices take up the remaining shelf.

In front of your window is your desktop computer. It’s a cheap gaming rig, but you have decent enough monitors that I don’t feel the immediate need to replace them. When you’re mine, you’ll have the best of everything. While I’m thinking of your shopping list, I decide to buy a sliding door lock and ship it to you under Mrs. Songs’ name.

I can’t do that until I have a key, though, so I head out of your room and into the kitchen to search the drawers. The website for your apartment complex stated they give one key per tenant over the age of eighteen, plus one to have as a spare before they charge for extras. I just hope you haven’t already gone through your free copy.

The universe must be thinking good thoughts about soulmates because I find it in the first drawer I open. Glued to the thick cardstock that was stamped with the apartment logo was the very key I wanted.

After I tuck my shiny new key into my pocket, I leave through the same sliding glass doors that granted me entry. With my keen eye for detail, I scan your home one last time to make certain I leave the inside of your apartment as close to the way I found it as possible. Speaking of your apartment, I hate it. As I leave, music pumps from your neighbors' unit, despite it being before noon on a weekday. Marijuana and tobacco smoke stink up the air. You’re surrounded by losers and dropouts. Useless members of society. As soon as I can, I’m moving you into my home. And if I can’t get you to move in with me, I’ll put you up in a penthouse downtown.

Never forget that your mate is a very wealthy man, my sweet girl. I won’t claim to be the wealthiest man in the world, but I know for a fact I’m quite high on that list. That much money gives me access to a frankly obscene level of influence over the world.

And yet my pack is weak.

We are fifteen men strong, but just that- we are only men; even among those chosen few, I’m the only born werewolf. I turned the rest of them over the course of the past decade as they proved their worth. It takes a spectacular amount of self control to turn someone. Vampires have it easy. All they have to do is share blood, stop the initiate’s heart however you please, then bury the corpse and wait for the fledgling vampire to rise in their own time.

Werewolves have a much harder time propagating our species. In order for me to turn a human into a lycanthrope, I must attack them. A single bite won’t do it. They have to be mauled so viciously that their immune systems crash, thus allowing the werewolf virus to infect them. Even then, it’s not guaranteed. The initiate must survive the fever and their injuries.

It’s better to allow the infection to spread over the course of a month, where it will grow to its ultimate form under the light of the full moon. This allows the initiate to adjust physically and mentally to their new bodies and new instincts. As the alpha of my pack, I take the month to bond with my new beta.

I bring them to my family’s estate in the mountains where we once had a very lucrative silver mine. Believe me, the irony is not lost on me. A family of werewolves that owns a silver mine? Ridiculous. Yet, own it we do. Of course, we had none of our kind down in the mine shafts themselves. We kept them above ground where they wouldn’t die of silver poisoning just by breathing the air.

The veins have dried up in the past thirty years, so now the property is used to contain newly turned wolves. Even though it’s only us out there for hundreds of miles, I don’t let my wolves run around, causing havoc. Until they’re under my control, and won’t lose themselves to their instincts, they stay in the mines on full moons.

If they don’t submit by the end of the first night, I break their will before the moon thins. I do not allow any wolf to deny my status. If they are in my pack, they bend to my whim. Loyalty is an utmost priority. If they can’t commit to the pack, I rip their hearts out. Fortunately, I’ve only ever lost one new wolf in such a manner. The fifteen other men I’ve turned so far have become integral to my way of life.

They’re all employees of mine. My driver, my private security team, my home chef, my doctor, my lawyer, and the two groundskeepers that stay year round on the mountain to manage the estate and keep the property in shape are in my pack. 

Born werewolves like me are rare. Our mothers are humans, but come from lycan bloodlines. Meaning they carry the werewolf gene. Then, when combined with our werewolf father's genes, we born werewolves greet the world, kicking and screaming. You don’t seem to come from a lycan bloodline, but deep in my gut, I know you’ll provide me with lycan children.

A handful of blocks away from my destination, I pull a KN-95 mask out of its plastic wrap and stick it on my face. Then I put a plain dark blue baseball cap on. I tie it all together with a pair of thick wire-rim glasses.

As a werewolf, my eyesight is better than the best human's. The lenses are just for show. I don’t want you to recognize me later when I truly introduce myself. I want you to fall in love with a stranger who sweeps you off your feet and leaves you aching for more.

What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.

I park my car outside of the business next to Costume Avenue. You’re visible through the front windows, even though you’re tucked towards the back of the shop. I have a clear line of sight. That must have been on purpose.

Half the reviews on Google are about you, so I don’t doubt that you’re a large draw for business. It makes sense your boss wants you to be easy for customers to find from the front door. Not many places have a full time historical customer on staff and your work is more than worth boasting over. For example, recently, an up-and-coming starlet wore one of your gowns to the Oscars after-party. 

If you hadn't left so fast last night, perhaps we could have hit it off naturally. Your timing is off, is all. I have to admit, as impatient as I am to be with you, I appreciate the opportunity to learn about you. I didn’t become the rich and powerful man I am today by jumping the gun and rushing into things. In business and in love, I need to keep my wits. 

I can’t wait too long, though. If I’m too slow to act on our soulmate bond, the possessive animal in my blood will lash out. I might wake up one day on your porch, naked as the day I was born, my wolf having brought us there to paw pathetically at your door while I was sleeping.

The double doors of the building are wide open to welcome in both customers and the cool late spring air. There aren’t any heads bobbing around inside aside from yours. You get up from your sewing chair to stretch and take a walk around the building, tidying shelves and racks as you pass them. You stand in the doorway to glance at the parking lot and your gaze passes over me as if I’m not even there. Good.

Your cell phone rings and you glance around for customers. Seeing none, you answer it. Your smile makes you look younger. “Hey! I can’t talk for long. I’m at work. What’s up?” I hear you say as a greeting to whoever is on the other end of the call.

A woman's voice says, “I’ll be quick. Shaun wants to know if I can cover his shift Saturday night, so I was hoping we could have girls' night Friday night instead?”

You tilt your head slightly in thought and make a wincing expression. “Saturday is two for one at the Forty-Five, though.”

“Please, Freya?” The woman wheedles, “I’ve been trying to get an in with Shaun for so long! This is my chance!”

You roll your eyes. “You cover his shift at least once a month.”

“But I can feel this time is different! I’m so close to getting into his study group I can taste it.”

You laugh, and it’s musical. “Okay, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.”

“Deal!” Your friend is grinning. I can hear it in her voice. “I’ll see you there at eight?”

“Friday night. Eight o’clock.” You agree, and the two of you exchange goodbyes before you hang up.

I’ve never been to The Forty-Five, but I’ve heard about it from my men. It’s supposed to be a respectable sort of place, and quite expensive, so I understand your hesitancy to agree to full priced drinks. You won’t have to worry about that, though. I’ll take care of you.

I start my car and drive back to my house. I think it’s time we meet face to face, and what better spot to fall in love than on the dancefloor?

#writeblr #tag game #horror novel #booktok #book boyfriend #werewolf #dark romance #stalker horror #werewolf bf #monster fuqqer #writing #creative writing #writing community #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writerscorner #writing prompts #writers and poets #writers #authors of tumblr #indie author #self publishing

[cwritesforfun]

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader: Golden MV Inspired

Inspired by the Golden music video ~ I attached above :)

Y/N = Your Name

Harry Styles' POV

It was our 2 year marriage anniversary and we wanted to do something special. I told Y/N that I wanted to take her to Italy and she agreed. Thank goodness because I had already booked a cute villa and a reservation at this pasta place near the water. I would do anything and everything for Y/N. She's the most precious person to me. I literally am in love and am in awe of her.

The flight is smooth for the most part. It's an overnight flight because we are flying across an ocean. Because of that, I find myself leaning on Y/N's shoulder to sleep. I made sure it was okay with her before I did so because it was a long flight and I didn't want her to be in shambles.

When we arrive, we're driven out to the villa we're staying in. Y/N immediately jumps for joy and freaks out. She's so cute!

Y/N's POV

Harry and I are in Italy! Omg! It's literally so amazing. We're going to a pasta place tonight and I'm thrilled. Pasta is bae. Sorry H. Lol no he's the real bae aka my hubby. Gosh he would laugh hearing my thoughts right now. Haha.

I get dressed up and he puts on a blue suit (from the music video), which fits him so well. Wow. I love him.

We head out and we walk to the restaurant. He tells them our name and we get our seats out on the balcony. We order champagne, pasta, and salad.

As we wait for food to arrive, I look out at the sunset and exclaim "Wow I cannot believe we're in Italy. I'm so happy and this trip wow. I'm so excited. H, I love you baby." He replies "Awww love. You're adorable. I'm glad you enjoy it so far. If you are loving it so far, then know it's just getting started." I reply "Yay!"

We order two glasses of wine when dinner arrives. Harry exclaims "I love you Y/N. I love being here with you and I'm glad we got to come to Italy. I also cannot believe it's only been 2 years. It's the bee's knees." I smile and say "It's been an amazing two years and I cannot wait for more to come." He replies "Here here!" He holds up his glass and we cheers to ourselves.

We down the glasses of wine and eat dinner. We enjoy our dinner then we get gelato down the street mainly because I asked nicely.

Since we're both a little tipsy, we both take turns spinning around and skipping back to the villa. Truly a wonder no one's gotten hurt yet. I hope neither of us do.

We make it back to the villa and we take a shower together. We then cuddle in bed and talk about all the things we love about each other. Cheesy yes I know we are.

.......................................................................

THANKS FOR READING!!! LOLOL kinda short but hey I loved the music video and was inspired to write this.

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles x oc #harry styles x fan

[sing-you-fools]

I think we fucked up when we stopped letting authors be weird little freaks in living cabins and never talking to anyone.

I want to write my book. I want to tell this story. Ideally, I'd like to tell a lot more after this one, too. I want people to read them and like them.

But I don't want to be a celebrity. I don't want to be a public figure at all. I want people to love my books, but I don't want to have Fans.

I'm good with words, I think - I wouldn't write if I didn't, right? But I need time to think about how to say what I mean. The idea of ever having to do a live interview is kind of terrifying. The idea of sitting on a panel of authors at a convention or something and an audience question attacks me using the worst-faith interpretation I've ever heard of something I said scares the crap out of me - I'm awful at keeping my cool in the moment, and I don't want to ruin my life because I snapped at someone who was being an asshole.

Everything is political. But I understand the famous people who insist they aren't. I have beliefs, of course, but I really suck at talking about them. My writing is definitely political, but I'm no Ursula Le Guin, and put on the spot, my answer to an excellent thought-provoking question would be more like "capitalism bad." Given more time, maybe I could say, "here's some stuff you should read if you're interested," but I don't want to be shoved into the "political educator" role. It's not one I would be good at.

My processing is slow. When I'm listening to someone talk, or reading something they wrote, in the moment, I always feel like they're making a lot of sense and plenty of good points (well, not always; word salad is word salad). Sometimes I will realize a day later that, wait a minute, that guy didn't actually make sense! Or worse - that did make sense, but it didn't mean what I understood it to mean at the time, and I agreed with him. This is very much not something I want to do on a public scale.

Philosophically, I don't really want to explain my work. I don't want to tell people what I was thinking, why I made this choice, and so on. I want to let it stand for itself. I also don't want to accidentally spoil anything. But I also have an extremely hard time shutting up, and unlike Tom Holland, there's no way to keep me in the dark. Not when it's my own work.

Sometimes I think World's Greatest Author Chuck Tingle has the right idea. Cover my face, use a pen name, play a character, don't let anyone perceive me. But that wouldn't actually solve most of the reasons I don't want to be perceived. I'm not sure what options there are for me, though. Can I just be a recluse? Can a reclusive author succeed these days? Probably. But can I manage to both be a recluse professionally and continue being very online personally? Would I be able to keep it separate? Would I be able to see a shitty take about something I wrote and scroll past it?

I realize and take comfort in the fact that the likelihood of achieving that level of success is vanishingly small. I remind myself that Neil Gaiman is not the average published author. He is not even the average very successful published author. These are worst-case-scenario worries for a situation that will never happen. I'm still not done with Step 1 (Write a First Draft). I just wish I could work on Step 1 without my brain saying, hey, what if someday someone's mean to you because you wrote this?

#musings #writeblr #sing-you-fools

[cyberphuck]

ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE ABRIDGED: CAST OF CHARACTERS

THE EXPLAINING REALM OF THE ELDERLINGS TO RAZZ PROJECT SO THEY DON’T HAVE TO READ THE BOOKS BUT THEY CAN STILL ENJOY MY SHITPOSTING ABOUT IT

PART ONE: ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE PART ONE-A: CAST OF CHARACTERS THE FARSEERS (The royal family of the Six Duchies, every member of this clan is a hot mess. I will also be including Farseers-by-marriage in this category). Nameless/Fitz/Fitzchivalry: The POV character, King-in-Waiting Chivalry’s bastard whose name is literally “Chivarly’s Bastard.” Prince Chivalry: Fitz’s father who never has an on-screen appearance. He was first in line to the throne but abdicates when Fitz shows up. Prince Verity: Chiv’s younger brother, the Nice Uncle who becomes the new King-in-Waiting. Honest as his name and good at sports. Prince Regal: Chivalry and Verity’s younger half-brother, the Mean Uncle. Vain and power hungry and has like negative three redeeming qualities. King Shrewd: Current king, kind of getting on in years but not yet totally decrepit. He’s an ends-justify-the-means guy but not in an evil way. Chade: King Shrewd’s older half-brother on the wrong side of the sheets. An assassin. Lives in the walls. Has a weasel. August: Fourth? In line for the throne, he’s someone’s cousin, I forget whose, but he can do the Skill, so he’s here. Queen Constance: Chivalry and Verity’s mom. Shrewd’s arranged-marriage wife. Dead. Queen Desire: Regal’s mom. Shrewd’s midlife crisis trophy wife. Suffers from what we will discreetly call “substance abuse disorder.” Is a Mythic Bitch. Patience: Chivalry’s wife. Has ADHD. Can’t have children. Weird, but nice. (Kettricken is grouped with Rurisk so he doesn’t get lonely). CASTLE AND STABLE FOLK (and Molly) Burrich: Fitz’s pseudo-father and keeper. Stablemaster of Buckkeep, former right hand man to Chivalry. Was an adventurer like you until he took a pig to the knee. Cobb: Burrich’s apprentice. That’s kind of it, but he’s worth mentioning. Hands: A stablehand and Fitz’s friend. Likes redheads. Claims to have fucked a million women. Hasn’t. Lacy: Patience’s serving woman and bestie. Makes lace, nods indulgently and will stab you. The Fool: Albino freak-child who serves as King Shrewd’s jester. People are kind of afraid of him. Sometimes appears to yell word-salad at Fitz or walk his dog for him. Galen: Potions, er, Skill-master. Walks around the keep sneering at people. Supposed to teach people how to Skill, but isn’t good at it. Skill Students: Will not become important until next book. Molly Nosebleed: A pugnacious street girl who lives in Buckkeep Town. Fitz hangs out with her when he can. MOUNTAIN FOLK Rurisk: Prince of the Mountain Kingdom. Took an arrow to the chest and kept on truckin’. Used to be friends with Chivalry, is a pretty stand up guy. Hope nothing happens to him. Kettricken: Rurisk’s younger sister, betrothed to Verity (and later married) late in the book. Picture Gwendolyn Christie. Now give her a sword and a sense of duty that’ll blow you into next Tuesday. Jonqui: Kettricken’s aunt. No nonsense. Thinks Fitz is cute. PETS Nosy: Hound dog puppy. Bonded to Fitz. Smithy: I think Smithy’s like a French Bulldog or something? Fitz calls him a “terrier” but he’s not a ratting breed, he’s kind of muscly... anyway, bonded to Fitz. Sooty: Fitz’s horse. Best mare, perfect cinnamon roll and can do no wrong. Vixen: Burrich’s dog and Nosy’s mother. Good dog. Slink: A weasel belonging to Chade. MAGICS (I know magic is not a character, but they do have to be explained somewhere) The Wit: The ability to “bond” with certain animals and speak with them, as well as sense life force and to do a kind of mental shove at people. You tend to act a little like the animal you’ve bonded to. Witted people are considered gross and animalistic and are run out of town or put to death. The Skill: Telepathy. Considered the “birthright” of the Farseers. Most people can sense it at least a little, but it takes inborn talent and a lot of careful training to do anything useful with it. Skilling apparently feels awesome but if you give in to the temptation to fully open yourself to it you can get sucked out of your own  brain.

#rote #assassin's apprentice #spoilers #aa abridged #farseer trilogy abridged